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My Loving Family Ch. 01

By: sealawyer



Willa's story

Chapter One

I was born and raised in a very religious family on a small farm in Manitoba. One brother was several years older, but my other brother, Sam, was my twin. 

We were home schooled by Mama so we had very little contact with other children. As a result, Sam and I were very close. We played together and quite literally grew up knowing only each other.

The result of that closeness occurred one spring evening with awful results. Sam had been pestering me for a long time to see what my boobies looked like, and how they felt. To be honest about it, I was equally curious about the thing he carried between his legs, so we made a promise to each other. I promised to let him see my bare chest if he would drop his pants and let me see his thing.

One thing led to another until that awful evening. We had promised to meet in a secret place only we knew about down by the river. I'm blushing as I tell this, but the awful truth is, Sam and I were looking at each other when we heard a roar, "What the hell!!!?"

Papa was standing, like a bearded avenging Jehovah, on the edge of our secret clearing, a tree branch held over his head. Sam turned white and attempted to cover himself with his hands while I instinctively closed my eyes and curled myself into a tiny ball. 

I heard the swish of the branch coming through the air and braced myself for the blow. Sam cried out instead as the heavy limb fell across his bare chest. He attempted to roll out of range of the next blow, but Papa was demented with rage, and as he pursued Sam, I quickly leaped to my feet and snatching my dress off the bush, began to run for home.

When I was out of sight of the two struggling men, I slipped my dress over my head, and continued to run for the safety of Mama's kitchen. The kitchen proved not to be so safe, after all. Mama knew something was wrong the minute I ran through the door and closed it as if the demons from Hell were after me. "What's wrong, child?"

I didn't know what to say. How could I explain what had happened? I turned and ran up the stairs to my room, but she followed me. Her voice had a harder edge as she strode through the doorway. "You'd better tell me what happened, child!"

I still couldn't find the words. The enormity of what Sam and I had been doing was beginning to surface in my mind. I threw myself into Mama's comforting arms and began to cry. "I've been awfully bad, Mama," I sobbed. "God will strike us both!"

Mama was not a fool. "Us? Who is 'us'? Just who are you talking about, child?"

"Me and Sam," I whispered.

Alarmed, she held me at arms length and studied my face. "What did you and Sam do?" I couldn't respond. The shame was simply too great! "You'd better tell me, girl, before your father comes home!"

For the first time, I wondered if Sam was still alive, and began to cry anew. This time I was mourning my lost brother. "Papa was beating Sam and I ran away," I said.

Mama suddenly realized I was wearing no undergarments. "Did you two have your clothes off? " Her voice was hard with suspicion. Dumbly, tears streaming down my face, I nodded.

SMACK!!

A white flash of pain accompanied the jolting blow as Mama slapped my face! SMACK!! Again, she hit me, and yet again and again. My nose was bleeding and my cheeks were numb. She eventually tired. "You're to stay in your room until I tell you you can leave," she ordered as she left, slamming the door behind her.

I flung myself on my bed where I cried myself asleep. The door burst open. ". . .RIGHT NOW!

The room was dark, but I could see it was Papa standing in the doorway. "The Deacon's waiting for us downstairs, you little Jezebel," Papa said contemptuously. "That's your mother's doing. If it was left to me, you and Sam would no longer belong in this house! But she sent Fred for the Deacon before we got home, and since he's a good Christian man, he came to see if either of you is worth redemption."

I was stunned. The Deacon, I understood. But Papa had never spoken that many words to me before in a single conversation. He turned and left. I padded silently behind him.

When I came downstairs, I was immensely relieved to see Sam. He was on his knees, his head bowed, as he and Deacon Nies prayed together. Fred was also on his knees, praying. Papa sat stony faced at the table watching the deacon and listening to his son pray for redemption.

I sat silently next to Mama, who wore a scarf over her hair. Little wide-eyed Rachel sat on the other side of her. I knew my turn would be coming next, but I was more concerned about the dried blood on Sam's face. I hoped nothing internal was broken. 

The men's voices droned on and on, seemingly for hours. Then, abruptly, they stopped. Deacon Nies looked up in my direction. Mama handed me a scarf, and I joined the men, kneeling in front of the Deacon next to Fred. My memory of that next hour, mercifully, has disappeared. All I recall is how dreadfully my knees hurt and how my face stung where Mama had slapped me.

I do recall, however, the funeral atmosphere at the table that evening when Papa looked at Mama and said, "It's time she was married." No mention was made of Sam, who had disappeared while the Deacon pleaded with God to forgive my sins. Rachel later told me that Papa had ordered him to "live in the barn with the other animals," and that he was no longer a member of the family!

A week later, I was introduced to Mr. Enders, who Papa had invited to dinner. He was a member of the congregation, of course, a middle-aged widower whose wife had died in childbirth six months earlier. When I met him, I knew I was meeting my husband, and I saw a heavy set man with thinning reddish hair, a large mustache, crooked teeth and bad breath. Two weeks later, we were married. He, I later learned, was 46. I was barely 18.

I'd rather not dwell on my wedding night. Let's just say Mr. Enders was accustomed to getting what he wanted and was impatient with things, like my maidenhead, that temporarily stood in his way. Like the ordeal with the Deacon, my actual memory of that first penetration is lost. I only recall his enormous satisfaction when he saw my bloody night dress and the stains on the sheet. I also remember his comment. "I was taking a chance on you, little Miss. I knew about you and your brother, and I wasn't sure he hadn't beaten me to it!"

I met his brood, my ostensible step "children," the next day. Nels was the oldest and was several years older than me -- he was 22 or 23, I think. He was hired out to a farmer across the valley and I saw him only at rare intervals. Julia was next; she still lived at home. She was two years older than me, and all she could talk about was getting married. In that place and time, a girl who remained unmarried at 20 was getting dangerously close to spinsterhood.

Janice and I were almost exactly the same age, but she was mean and spiteful and watched me closely, looking for any missteps she could gleefully report to Mr. Enders.

Then there were the two little ones. Hester and John. Hester reminded me of Rachel at home. She was a shy child and needed mothering that neither older sister could or would provide. John was a delightful six year old who quickly began following me around like a puppy.

Mr. Enders also employed a hired man who took care of the farm while Mr. Enders was away on business. The hired man -- everyone called him Paul -- ate with the family but slept in the barn. He was a strange man who rarely spoke and never looked anyone in the face. In a rare confidential mood, Julia told me one day that Mr. Enders had arranged for Paul's release from jail and that if Paul ever gave any of us any trouble, we were to report it to the sheriff who would put Paul back in jail. Julia continued in her role of family cook, while I became the maid, washing dishes, waiting on Mr. Ender's children and trying to keep the house neat and orderly. Mr. Enders gave me an allowance each week to cover the family living expenses. Julia made the shopping list, while I was expected to harness the team and drive the wagon into Virden for supplies. Janice usually rode with me. The rest of my life lay before me like a well beaten track. But then one day, a kindly Providence intervened.

On that Saturday morning, after Paul left for the woodlot, Janice began complaining of cramps, so I was left to harness the team. Breeching harness is heavy and this was a job that required more lifting, tugging and adjusting than one small pair of hands could easily handle but I knew she disliked the smell of horses and anything involving manual labor, so I wasn't surprised. 

I expected her to recover as soon as the team pulled the wagon out of the shed, but when I stopped at the back door, she shook her head and waved me on. That was the Saturday when, as I was loading my purchases in the wagon, I saw Sam.

He saw me at the same moment. As our eyes met, an instant tiny spark of lightning ignited between my thighs and a remembered itch began to plague my breasts and especially my nipples.

It had been almost six months since that awful day. He had been sent away to relatives in the next county. He was even more handsome, taller and heavier than I remembered. I had changed, too. I was then in my fourth month with Joseph and was just beginning to show.

"Sam!"

"Willy!"

Indifferent to the fact that we were standing in the center of town, or that we were surrounded by people, I flew into his welcoming arms, and he, equally recklessly, gave me a passionate kiss that had no resemblance to a brotherly peck. The spark between my thighs ignited a sharp yearning and I felt suddenly very moist and very empty. My breasts ached for his touch, and as we clung together, I could feel his member stir and begin to grow.

"Let's find somewhere so we can talk," I said breathlessly, although I'm not sure talking was all I had in mind.

"I know a place," Sam said. "I'll get my team. You follow us."

I began working myself into a frenzy as I waited for him. There was never any doubt in my mind about my feelings for my brother, but now, especially following the brutality Mr. Enders had subjected me to, I longed for his gentle touch, his soft mouth, and yes (dare I admit it?), his beautiful member! I only hoped he shared my thirst.

"Come on, Willy!"

Jolted out of my reverie, I shook the reins and spoke to the horses. They swung behind Sam's cart and followed him to the edge of town. The road, little more than a grassy track, was new to me. It passed through a stand of cottonwood trees, then dipped to the bed of a small stream and up a shallow climb on the opposite bank.

Sam's team unhesitatingly splashed through the shallow water but instead of going on across the ford, they turned downstream and were quickly lost to view around the bend. My horses were uneasy at first, but then I let them stop and drink their fill.


"Over here, Willy!" Sam was standing on a boulder in the stream. Even as I swung the horses to follow his track, a vision of his beautiful rigid member with its purple head peeking from behind its loose skin flashed through my mind. I shook the reins again to hurry the horses. 

Sam's team was standing just above the stream in a shadowy glade. My horses whinnied a greeting as we swung next to them. Meanwhile, Sam had removed his cart cover and spread it on the springy grass.

He was standing in the middle of it as I set the brake and hurried into his arms. Again we kissed, our tongues and lips working together. My womanhood was a seething cauldron of liquid fire between my thighs that only his cock could extinguish. Neither of us hesitated. The itch in my breasts was unbearable, and as we sank to our knees, still locked together, I began to undo his buttons, while he rubbed my breasts through my dress.

"Wait," I said. I stood again, and quickly drew my dress over my head and my underclothes fell in a heap. Sam stripped just as quickly. I saw his manhood, even stronger and more beautiful than I remembered, tilting up into the air like a miniature arm held up in a salute. I couldn't help but compare the beauty of his weapon with the thick, stubby tool my husband possessed, which I had seen only on my wedding night. At the same time, he noticed my altered condition. "Willy, are you . .?"

"Yes," I said, "am I ugly?"

"You could never be ugly, darling."

Darling??? This was the first time he had ever used a term of endearment with me! I ran to him again, this time deliberately pressing my bare belly against his rampant cock. Again I raised my mouth to his, wallowing in the sensual pleasure caused by mashing my full breasts against his chest.

Again we sank to our knees. This time, I would not be denied. I rolled on my back and spread my legs. "I want you in me, Sam, right now!"

He rolled between my trembling thighs. As I raised my knees to accept him, he loomed over me, his earlier passion replaced by concern. "Are you sure, Willy?" For an answer, I reached down and seized his cock which I attempted to guide into my secret place, but he still resisted. "Are you sure it won't hurt the baby?"

I wanted to scream, "fuck me!!" except I had never heard that word before. I renewed my effort to pull him into me, this time seizing his buttocks with both hands. This time I was successful. I don't know why I'm telling you all this detail, but the minute I felt Sam's beautiful cock slide inside me, wave after wave of pure ecstasy washed through my body. I was transported to some place beyond the stars. I could never have imagined that sex would be so wonderful!

When he began thrusting himself into me, those wonderful waves of pure passion continued to ripple though my body, and I found I was lifting myself, thrusting up to greet his member as he pounded himself into me. All the pent up frustration since our youngest days when he first saw my cunny and I, his little boy erection in the hay loft, up to the terrible moment when Papa caught us lying together flowed away when I felt his wonderful penis begin to spasm as he bathed my insides with his hot seed.

After we held and caressed each other, he stroking my taut swollen belly and incredibly sensitive breasts while I gently massaged his softened and sticky penis and balls. I was horrified when I realized that I suddenly felt a strange need to taste his member; to feel that beautiful cock growing on my tongue, but I realized in time that if I attempted such a vile thing, he would be repulsed, and rightfully so. Reluctantly, I released him. We dressed without daring to look at each other.

Even without having revealed my perverted impulse, Sam was deeply troubled by what we had just done, and he put his thoughts into words. "Willy, what we just did was just about the worst sin there is."

Tears were too near the surface for me to dare speak. Instead, I nodded.

"We can't ever do this again! We'll go to Hell for sure if we do." Again I nodded. I can't honestly say whether my tears were tears of repentance, or frustration, having experienced the most glorious moment of my life only to have any possibility of experiencing it again rudely snatched away. Still, common sense told me Sam was right, if only for purely practical reasons. I sadly kissed him goodbye, and we parted.

Fortunately, Mr. Enders believed that sex for pleasure was a sin; that the only reason God allowed it was so the human race could multiply as the Bible required. Consequently, he regarded me as one might regard a brood mare. Once he was satisfied that I was "settled" as he put it, he left me alone, and I was eternally grateful for that because Mr. Enders not only lacked skill as a lover, he was almost sadistic as if he were punishing me for being a woman.

If Mr. Enders had been even the slightest interested in making love, I could better have endured his crude manners in the bedroom, but his idea of foreplay was to lift my night dress to my waist, wedge himself between my thighs and force himself into me. When that happened, I found myself thinking of Sam. I even tried to pretend that his pig-like rooting in my cunny was Sam, but even that was a small consolation. I even tried to anticipate his whim so I could prepare myself with my fingers and make his entry into me much less painful. Now, of course, I know some of the reason for his hostility. Papa had paid him $1,200 to marry me.

Fortunately, Mr. Ender's visits had ended when he realized I was pregnant. Mr. Enders also began spending more and more time away from the farm, so I spent many happy nights with my fingers and loving memories of Sam to comfort me. I didn't realize it at the time, but Mr. Enders was working on a project for an investment company in Winnepeg.

(To be continued) 

My Loving Family Ch. 01



My name is Raja and this is the story of we (my mother, mother and wife) became a loving family.

I was 19 then and living with my mother Rukmini, 39. We were pretty rich and lived a luxurious life, my father had run away when I was 3, so I never knew how or who he was.

My mother had a best friend Padmini, who was 3 years younger to my mom, she was 36. They used to work in the same office and her husband was a drunkard who was 12 years older than her at 48. Now both my mom and her friend are very good looking. Padmini was a 39-27-37 and my mom 39-29-40. She lived in the next street and everytime her husband was drunk and was beating or something she would come to our house with her daughter Rekha who was a year younger than I was around 18.

Rekha was very beautiful and had a sexy looking body, must have been a 34-24-34.

She and I had grown up and together and I was pretty muscular as I used to work out in the gym and she was studying in a nearby town staying in the ladies hostel, as her mother did not want her father's drinking to create problems for her

One day, my mother called me and said Padmini has asked me to get you married to her daughter, "what do you think son?"

I said "mom what is the hurry I am only 19."

"yes, son you can marry her after 2 years, she thinks you two will make a great match and she is very beautiful you know" mom said.

"what about Rekha, what does she think about it" I queried.

Padmini told me, Rekha likes you a lot and is in fact she who told her mother that" said my mom.

I was surprised and at the same time I did not know what to do, but I had a crush on her mother Padmini!!

I said, "let me think about it" and went outside.

When I came back I saw Padmini at home crying.

I asked "what is wrong Padmini aunty, did your husband beat you again?"

She said "He wanted to, but I came running here"

I said "It is ok, you stay here only from now on, dont go to his place"

"No, No " she protested that wont be good.

I firmly said No and said I will look after your husband's drinks, since you are going to be my mother it is ok for you to be here.

My mother was happy hearing this and also insisted on the same.

I immediately went to her husband's house and made a deal, saying I will provide you drinks if you leave her alone. He was more than happy and I also said I will marry your daughter.

My mother had quit the job by now and was not working, my college was near Padmini aunty's office and I used to visit her as often as I could, always meeting her for lunch

She used to talk about the office personnel, I used to ask her about Rekha and how she was, she used to tease me about her, I started flirting with her more and more telling only because mother is beautiful daughter is beautiful She used to blush hearing comments like that.

She used to wear sleeveless sarees to her office and sometimes while we were having food, her pallu used to fall and I would catch a glimpse of our beautiful breasts.

I always used to bring her back from the office on my bike. She used to cook for her husband during the day and come in the night to our house.

I stole a glimpse of her in all stages of dress everyday and one day my mother caught me!! I aplogized to my mother and said sorry, but I cant help it, she is so beautiful, I told my mom, I wish I can marry her instead of her daughter.

My mother was angry and she said, she is also my age, you think that of me as well and she slammed the door and left angrily. She ordered me not to drop her or pick her from the office, I am not going to tell her, she said.

I however continued to meet her for lunch and flirted with her a lot, one day she started crying saying "u r so nice, my daughter will be very happy with u, I am so glad to have found you for my daughter, you will take good care of her wont you" she asked me

I immediately sat by her side and wiped her tears and she leaned on me, I kissed her on the cheeks, i" will take care of my wonderful mother too" I said and smiled. She smiled back and asked "y dont you pick me up anymore" I said "our timings are clashing, so I am having difficulty my mom thinks I am thinking of u, not Rekha" I blurted out

She looked at me surprised "why is that You are like my son she said and kissed me on the forehead" but I think she felt my hard on poking when I was turning towards her

I said "yes" and I escaped from the situation.

My mother then had to go a wedding in a nearby place and in this time, they had another fight and she said "I wont go to office" I said "I wont go to college either" and stayed with her and she cooked. I asked her to feed me.

She looked at me strangely, I said "I miss my mother and you r like a mother to me"

She started feeding me, her pallu fell down and she did not pick it up, I kept noticing at her breasts and I just bit her finger, 

She immediately took it and said "what r you doing"

"I love you Padmini and I want to marry you " I blurted "So your mother was right about you" she said "What do you mean" I said "She warned me to keep away from you as you are a young boy" I did not say anything, but just went and hugged her saying "I love you I love you"

She looked at me and asked what about my daughter "I like her," but I want you.

She just looked at me and I kissed her on the mouth, do you like me Padmini "Yes, I love you a lot, you have always been by my side when I needed you, I was the one who said Rekha likes you a lot just so that I can be with you atleast as a mother"

We deeply kissed each other and she said "wait" and handed me a mangalsutra to tie around her neck, I was very glad and tied it around her neck saying Padmini, you are my wife and you will have my baby" she said yes, my love and I took off her clothes slowly and kissed her on the neck, breasts, tummy, navel, and her legs" I lifted her petticoat and kissed her cunt

She moaned deeply, Raja my love, my husband I lifted her and took her to my huge bed and I lay her down and kissed each part of her body one by one, sucking her nipples, as she moaned, I smelt her cunt and told her, my baby will come out from here, and she smiled at me. She put her hand on my head and went through my hair as I started sucking her cunt.

I kept telling her how beautiful she was and I was love with her even as a kid she said, "now you want me to have your kid" and smiled

I now kissed her on the thighs and slowly pushed into her cunt, she gasped "Oh Raja this is so wonderful, it is so hard and thick"

"Yes my love" and I kissed her. Now our hands were together each others fingers in each other as I started pounding her I started banging her faster and faster and the moans became heavier and heavier and finally I exploded inside of her.

She lay smiling saying "I wanted this for a long time, but I had to wait until you were grown up and ready." I kissed her. She started worrying about her husband, so to calm her I said "if we give him drinks he wont care what is happening" and we both laughed. She then asked "what about my daughter?" I didn't know what to say.

"we will see about that, but I saw her once or twice and she likes me a lot" I revealed to her. She looked at me and asked "Did you do it?" I said "No" and then she was ok.

We spent the next few days making love all the time, she took leave from the office and I made her try various dresses and even made love calling her mother and she loved it.

Then the day my mother was coming back, we were still in the bedroom making love and my mother entered...

To Be Continued...



My Loving Family Ch. 02



Synopsis: Willa and her twin brother, Sam, were caught playing "show me yours and I'll show you mine," by their very strict father. Sam was sent into exile, while Willa was married off to a middle-aged widower. Her life was harsh and unloving, but her husband, Mr. Edgers, got her pregnant. Then, unexpectedly, she met her brother. They had beautiful sex, and then they parted.

* * * * *

Usually, Paul drove Mr. Enders to the station, but he wasn't always available, in which case that chore fell to me. I didn't really mind when the weather was nice, but I hated to make that hour-long trip in the winter because when the dirt road was bare, the wagon bounced jarringly as the wheels crossed the frozen ruts. Otherwise, the horses would have to drag the wagon through heavy snow drifts, and it was awful cold, especially when a north wind was blowing. Joseph was born in the early spring. Mr. Enders was in Winnepeg, and the roads were virtually impassable. Julia tried to help me -- Janice was nowhere to be found -- but neither of us really knew what to do. The agony was so great that I finally pleaded with her to get Paul. He had birthed two calves and a colt, so I thought he would know what to do.

I can't remember much about what happened next. I was just faintly aware through a fog of pain that rippled through my entire being like sheets of lightning, of another person besides Julia moving around my bed. I also remember a man's strangely familiar voice urging me to push harder, and then a sudden searing agony followed by a feeling of emptiness and a baby's cry.

But I quickly recovered sufficiently and was aware of Julia's happy smile as she handed me my warm, blanket-wrapped baby. Little Joseph was a tiny but very active baby, and was born hungry. As I studied the frown on his face, it quickly disappeared as I brought his mouth to my nipple. But the biggest surprise of all was when Sam came into the room! 

I'm sure I must have looked as astonished as I felt. How in the world?? Where?? Questions that were still to be answered. For the moment, however, all I could do was sink back into myself, knowing that all was right at last. Julia lifted my baby and I closed my eyes.

Later, Julia told me that when she had asked Paul to come and help me, he had refused, and almost immediately ran away. Desperate, remembering how her mother had died, Julia had harnessed the team and despite the the storm and snow drifts, drove into Virden for help.

Unfortunately (or luckily, as it turned out) old Mrs. Beardsly, who had birthed babies in and around Virden as long as anyone could remember, was attending a woman on a farm several miles away. 

As Julia climbed back on the wagon, a young man had stopped her to inquire about me. Julia didn't know Sam, of course, but when he introduced himself, she told him about the trouble I was in. He insisted on returning to our farm with her. Julia was in too much of a hurry to argue.

That's how Sam came back into my life. Of course, there was hell to pay when Mr. Enders returned to the farm a few months later and found Sam living in Paul's corner of the barn, but there wasn't much he could do about it because Paul was gone and the sheriff had no replacement. When Mr. Enders realized that Sam was willing to work for little more than room and board, he left the outside chores to Sam and industriously set himself to the task of "settling" me before returning to Winnepeg. Almost every night for two solid weeks, Mr. Enders applied himself to my weary cooze. 

What he didn't know, of course, was that Sam had overcome his fear of everlasting damnation. Three months after Joseph was born, I found myself daydreaming with increasing intensity about that wonderful hour we had spent together by that little stream near Virden nearly a year earlier, and especially that momentary weakness when I had wanted to taste his beautiful cock.

Unaccountably, whenever those thoughts entered my mind, I would begin to feel an moist, aching emptiness deep inside, and my breasts would begin to tingle so badly that I would even awaken little Joseph sometimes and bring his hungry mouth to my nipple to quiet the awful need I felt. Finally, however, even little Joseph's demanding mouth could no longer quell the fire that raged within me.

One Sunday morning, while we were at breakfast, when just his mere presence caused the tingling and aching to become almost unbearable, I boldly asked Sam if he could spare the time from his chores to take me and my baby for a picnic. "I just need to get out of the house for a while," I explained. As he turned, leveling his eyes on me, and smiled, I actually felt a sudden faintness, and wondered for a moment if the warm moisture between my thighs meant that my "course" had again begun to flow! Fearing that blood would stain my dress, I had actually excused myself and gone to the outhouse to investigate! There was no blood.

Three hours later, I packed a picnic lunch while Sam harnessed the team. Then, after bundling little Joseph in his blanket, We three climbed into the wagon and drove out to he woodlot, where we stopped in front of a small stream. I held Joseph while Sam spread a blanket on the ground and placed the picnic basket in the center of it. Then I sat and began to unlace my bodice so I could feed Joseph who was beginning to fuss.

I had not consciously intended to expose myself to Sam, but neither did I turn away when he sat facing me on the other side of the basket. Instead, I made no attempt to conceal my full breast as I offered my nipple to Joseph. His greedy little mouth pulling on my nipple and Sam's openly admiring gaze were both causing that familiar dampness between my thighs, and when Sam said, "Do you remember the vegetable stand?" the dampness became a flood, and I found I was nearly sick from that familiar, but much stronger ache in my belly.

"If you only knew how many times I've thought about it," I said softly, "And other things, too!"

"Me, too," Sam said. He crawled around the basket and sat next to me. "You still have that effect on me, Willy. Look."

I didn't want to look. I knew what he had in mind, and I knew it wasn't right, especially while I was nursing my baby. Still, I had to peek as I moved Joseph from my empty breast to the full one.

His beautiful hard cock, lined with blue veins, and with its red tip just beginning to appear beyond his stretched foreskin was standing proudly from the front of his pants.

Involuntarily, I gasped as my hand, unbidden, reached out to touch it.

"Sam," I heard myself say, "you shouldn't...I mean we mustn't..." while just the feel of that silky hard object under my fingers caused my stomach to tighten, my womanhood to turn to mush, my belly ache with emptiness, and sweat begin to trickle down my ribs. Again, I had an almost irresistible need to taste his maleness.

Sam was grinning. "You want it as bad as I do, Willy," he said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't leave both your tits hanging out!"

"Oh, God, if only you knew..." Then I shyly dropped my eyes. "Could I just kiss it, Sam?" I whispered.

That set him back. "What on earth for?" he demanded. "That ain't natural!"

"I just need to feel it in me, Sam, all over. I can't help myself."

"What about the kid?"

"He's full. I'll just burp him and we can put him in the wagon. He won't tell."

Sam laughed at my feeble little joke. While I burped the baby, he made a cradle from some hay in the wagon bed. I carefully laid Joseph on his little bed. When I turned around, I saw a man god. Sam had stripped his clothes off, and stood, arms and penis raised to welcome me.

While I hastily undressed, I studied his sturdy body; muscles I hadn't noticed before rippled as he breathed. God, he was beautiful! My inhibitions fell away like leaves in an autumn storm, and I eagerly fell to my knees before his magnificent manhood, cupping his balls in one hand while I stripped his foreskin back with the other, and for the first time took a man's penis in my mouth.

The taste was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Beneath the mixed flavors of urine, male sweat and the tang of a clear liquid that was beginning to flow from his cock was the pure essence of man. I was torn, frankly. One part of me wanted to continue the novelty of holding Sam's cock in my mouth, but another, more urgent desire roiled in the emptiness between my thighs.

I fell back, lifting and spreading my legs. "I need you, Sam. More than I ever needed anything in my life. Please come here."

My plea was unnecessary. Even as I spoke, I felt him push my legs further back as he lowered his body over mine, and his stiffness probed my bottom, seeking the entrance to my pussy. He found it. "Ohhh, my Goddd!"

He worked his cock into the opening of my pussy -- I felt a distinct 'pop' when the head was inside my inner ring. Then, as my tissues parted under his insistent thrusting, I thought I would die from the exquisite pleasure waves that rolled through my body. Soon, I felt his balls slap against my bottom. 

He rested for a moment while I rejoiced in the healing fullness he was giving me, and tried to memorize that wonderful feeling so I could relive those exquisite moments in my memory. Again, however, I was mistaken. 

The pleasure I had experienced as he penetrated me was nothing compared to the ecstasy I felt as him began his in and out thrusting and I felt the engorged head of his manhood rub and stimulate the lining of my cunny. In and out, in and out. With each stroke I felt myself elevated to still higher levels of pleasure until I reached my peak. I felt him tense, and his penis grow even harder and thicker as he began pounding me with a primeval need.

Again and again and again until I felt I had to scream to release the built up energy, when suddenly a series of convulsions rippled through my body and I felt like warm butter and honey. I know my cunny must have squeezed mightily on his manhood, which began to spurt scalding hot sperm into my thirsty pussy.

He slumped down, and I felt my milk trickle down my ribs as my breast was squeezed beneath his muscular chest. He took me in his arms, and we rolled to the side, still joined, while he kissed me, stroked my hair, and told me how much he loved me. It was a perfect moment.

The ice broken, Sam and I made love at every opportunity. I'm sure the girls must have suspected something, but when Mr. Enders returned to the farm a year or so later to breed me again, neither he nor Sam knew I had missed the previous period. Thus, while Mr. Enders applied himself to giving me another child, I rejoiced because I knew I was carrying Sam's baby.

Satisfied that he had once again successfully performed his "duty," Mr. Enders left the farm and returned to Winnepeg. Janice ran away shortly afterwards. Julia never really forgave her for disappearing when I was in labor, and insisted that she assume my responsibilities.

Janice had responded by taking the grocery money to town and using it to buy a ticket to God knows where, leaving the team tied to the hitching post. She disappeared and I never heard anything about her afterwards. She simply vanished.

By the time little Abraham (Sam's child) was born, Mr. Enders had virtually abandoned the farm. He had begun traveling overseas and I saw him only once again three years later when he returned briefly to sire our daughter, Ruth. I never saw him again.

Meanwhile Julia moved to Virden, and became a schoolteacher. That left Sam and me with five children. Three of my own and the two step children. John proved to be a sturdy young man well suited to the rigors of Canadian farm life. Shortly after his 16th birthday, he left to join Nels, his older brother, in a logging venture.

Hester was already engaged to be married to a young doctor who had replaced Mrs. Beardsly in Virden. After she was married, Sam moved into the farmhouse (and secretly into my bed). Ours was an idyllic life. But it lasted only five precious years.

Sam cut his thumb with a sharp farrier's knife while he was shoeing one of the horses. The cut didn't amount to much, but a week later, his hand turned dark and began to swell. He soaked it in hot water and epsom salts, but the next day, the veins in his arm turned red. His skin felt hot and dry to my touch and his eyes were bright with fever.

Although he didn't want to go, I harnessed the team, bundled the children up, and drove him in to Virden. The doctor took one look at his hand and said, "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Hermann, but you have blood poison!"

I know I must have turned pale -- I suddenly felt faint, but Sam just stared at the doctor. "Can't you cure it?"

The doctor sadly shook his head. "I can try, but to tell you the truth, you'll probably die unless I take your arm off, and even that's no guarantee! There's no telling how far it's gone, and we have no time to waste!"

The nearest hospital was in Branden, but the train had already gone. Sam shrugged. "Can you do it here?"

The doctor shook his head again. "I don't see how," he said. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait. But I can try to drain some of the poison."

Sam spent the night in the doctor's office, lying on a makeshift bed, while I prayed by his bedside, begging for God's mercy and forgiveness and bathing his feverish forehead with cold cloths. In the morning, he was delirious, and by noon, my dear sweet brother, my lover, was dead! 

(to be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 02



A Small note: Thank you for the response to my first part of the story, here's the second part many of you have mailed me for, hope you enjoy. Thanks again folks.

Story so far : Raja unoffically engaged to Rekha, my mom Rukmini's best friend Padmini's daughter, Raja gets Padmini to bed finally after years of having a crush on her and is caught by his mother fucking her........

I and Padmini did not notice my mom and continued our rendezvous, me fondling her and thrusting inside her over and over again, my mom was standing outside, suddenly Padmini's eyes froze fixed on the door, I turned around and saw my mom, I still could not stop, I continued pumping my hard cock into Padmini and until I emptied it into Padmini's all devouring cunt!!!!

My mom was so shocked she just stood there, so was Padmini who did not utter a word, I was standing naked in front of my mom not knowing what to say, my cock dripping with cum. Padmini, took a bedsheet to cover her and ran out of the room, I was left alone to deal with mom. 

"Mom, I could not help it, she is so beautiful, I wanted to have her". I finally spoke.

My mom did not speak to me and just went to her next door and closed it hard. Inside I could hear her sobs. I decided to go out and went outside and came back late in the night, that night after a long time, Padmini did not come home that night, saw my mom finishing her cooking and laying on the table. I went to the table silently and both of us had food, nobody talking.

Then she looked at me at said, "You have made me very alone now, I have lost a good friend and now have a really bad son, you are more and more like your father, you will also run away from me in search of more cunts, you are just another womanising bastard".

I was surprised at her words, she never said these kinds of words ever!!!

"I am sorry, but I really like her, it is not that I want her for one day or night," I said.

"What do you mean, you sick pervert, she could be old enough to be your mother," My mom shouted.

"That may be, but I still want her, she is beautiful, she is smart, she is sexxxy and besides her husband don't care for her?" I answered back.

"So? she is my friend, you should not have even thought of that, even I don't have a husband who cares for me, so will you fuck me too?".

I kept silent.

"Answer me you pervert," she shouted.

"Oh, I am not beautiful, is it ,is that the problem?" she shouted.

"I am sorry mom, but I really like her. You are very beautiful and lots of men ogle at you, I have seen that," I said my face lowered.

"So are you saying you would fuck me too, would you?" she questioned.

I again bent my head and kept silent.

She just banged the plate, locked the door and went to sleep. In the morning I got up and when I saw Padmini outside, saw she was all bruised, I got really angry and went to her husband asking what he was doing.

"She is fucking you, isn't she and you are her knight in shining armour," He told me looking at my face.

I said "Yes," back to him.

I took her arm and took her home my mom was there and when she Padmini's state she cooled down, she asked me to bring some ice and she applied it to her.

Padmini was silent and fell at mom's feet and asked for forgiveness.

"Rukmini, Your son has always been sweet and helpful to me, I felt so protected with him, and I am always fighting with my husband, and it just happened," Padmini said.

Mom did not say anything and just patted her on the forehead, asked me to make the bed, and Padmini slept on it.

My mom was silent for a while, in the evening, Mom called both me and Padmini to her room and said ," I have decided to forgive you both, you are my best friend and you, my son". Dont repeat it she said

We both nodded, after 2-3 weeks but there was some other news in store, Padmini missed her period and after a fortnight of waiting found out she was pregnant with my baby!!!!!

My mom was flabbergasted and she was angry with both of us, I was secretly thrilled and Padmini was shaken, I just hugged her and kissed right in front of mom and lifted her up.

Mom watched us in disgust and shook her head and sat down.

"Mom, this was meant to happen, I want her to have the baby, my first baby and your first grand child".

Mom looked at Padmini and the look said she also wanted to have the baby. My mom shrugged everything and hugged both me and Padmini,Mom meanwhile was wearing sarees, lower than ever, and I could catch a glimpse of her breasts every now and then.

That night, I asked mom to let Padmini sleep in my room.

Mom agreed and I and Padmini were alone in the room.

She was very shy and I asked her, "are you happy?".

She said "Yes, very happy".

"Rukmini has accepted us, that means a lot to me," she said.

I hugged her and I kissed on the forehead I removed her saree and blouse and kissed her naked breasts, played with her nipples. She started moaning loudly "aaaaaaaah, aaaaaaaah".

"O Padmini I missed you, I love you".

Then I kissed her navel and she squealed in delight, I rubbed my finger on her cunt and she whispered, "Careful, your baby is coming out of there," and I was even more excited by her words and kissed her hard on her mouth.

I was very tender and kissing her all over, touching everywhere and hugging, my cock was hard and went in slowly and she gasped. I kissed over and over again, as I kept pushing and pulling my cock inside her cunt. We were making noises and giggling like a couple of teenagers all night.

In the morning, mom teased both of us, "I was hearing lots of noises". Hearing this from mom made me more horny, I was thinking of mom now. The next night, I asked Padmini, "whether her relationship with mom has changed".

She said "In some ways, I now find it uncomfortable to discuss you," I said, "We can make that go away and you can help," "I want to make love to mom too," I blurted out Padmini looked at me and smiled "You naughty sexxxy boy, lusting for your own mother!!!!"

She was pleased and said she would share anything with mother as she loved her a lot including her lover boy if that can help get back to her old relationship. She started telling mom about our juicy love making sessions and mom was clearly excited. she told mom, she should find a man too, to which mom remarked, you are lucky you found one, I hope I am as lucky as you.

"Yes, I am very lucky, your son is a wonderful man and lover, Rukmini," "Yes, Raja is a very good man, maybe if you had a son, I could be with him," Mom teased. Padmini Replied "Raja was like my son for a long time until ...!!!!!" Mom looked at Padmini and both smiled.

As Padmini was telling me this, I was getting so horny, I just wanted to go mom's room and tell her I wanted to fuck her.

Padmini said "Darling, what are you doing when I am in the office?" and she naughtily smiled.

The next day, I dropped Padmini in the office and she wished me good luck and winked. I went home and mom was in a sexy nightie, I could see her bra and panties through it. I had a ready hard on and mom noticed it, you have to wait until the night she said looking at it.

I said, "It has a lot of energy, always wanting"

"Bad Bad Boy, not tired of making those noises with my friend and your very own mother Padmini," She remarked sexily.

"Your friend is very sexy, and she likes being in my bed," I said

"She is very lucky," mom remarked

"She is beautiful, has guys half her age going after her!!!!" mom said

"You are beautiful too, you could have any guy you want," I said 

"You think your mom is beautiful?" she asked

"Oh yes, very beautiful"

"sexy?" 

"Oh yes, very sexy," I was barely talking now

"You think I can find a young guy for me, your mom?"

"Oh yes," 

"Know anyone in particular?" she was looking at me straight.

we were both flirting like this, my hard on all too evident, and my mom moving her eyes and lips very provocatively.

"I do know, but not sure if you would want him," I replied

"Well, what are you waiting, tell me how to get a hold of this guy and maybe your mom will like him, I will go with whoever my son wants me to fuck!!!" there was a small pause and mom continued..

"Tell me, my darling son," I am waiting eagerly.

"Oh Mom, I want you in my bed," I blurted out.

"You want your sexy mom in bed, is it?" she replied without batting an eyelid.

"Yes," and without waiting I hugged her tight, and my hard cock touching her panties through the nightie.

"My, my!!!! no wonder my friend could not resist you," she said winking at me

"Don't tease me mom, I am so hot for you"

"Oh darling," she replied and kissed me on the forehead.

"Do you want your mom in your bed?" she asked "What about Padmini, won't she mind, are you not cheating with her?" she teased knowing fully well that I had her consent.

"Mom, Padmini loves me and loves you, she wants me to have you as a lover, so she can go back to her previous relationship with you being free and all," I replied.

"What about you, you want to do for her or for yourself?" she questioned.

"I want it for myself and you," and I kissed her on the mouth.

Mom moaned and I moaned too. "Oh my darling raja," she moaned and kissed me.

My hands went to her waist and I squeezed her there, she cried in pain and looked at me wantingly. I kissed her on the nose, nibbled at her ears. I removed her nightie and her bra, and I kissed her breasts and nipples kissing and biting "This is where you had your first food," she said looking lovingly stroking my hair.

i smilingly kissed it, "I am grateful for that".

Then I kissed her navel, and her cunt

"It is so beautiful mom," I said

It is yours, my son, all yours," she whispered

"This excited my more and I start licking her cunt, while playing with her thighs her hand were all over my hair and she was moaning with delight

"Mom, want to get back inside you," winked at mom

"What's stopping you, son," She replied

I plunged my hard cock into her cunt, it was so tight, years having gone by without sex for her, it felt awesome as I rammed into her cunt, I slowly start moving in and out.

"aaaaaaaaaaaaah," mom moaned, "You are so big and thick, slowly darling"

"Yes mom," I replied and slowly start moving in and out, my pre-cum already lubricating her cunt walls, I was kissing her on the mouth as my rhythm increased faster and faster

"Faster son, Faster son, I LOVE IT," "Mom, you like your son fucking you?" I asked "Yes, Yessssssss," she cried as she wriggled her ass as she said it and I started fucking her harder and harder.

There were no words, just the sound of the wetness inside her sweet motherly sexy cunt getting rammed by the hard cock of a son. I came and she came , both in joyous unison of a beautiful love formed. we both hugged tight after that and kissed. "Now you can be sisters again," I remarked "Yes, Thank you son," she smiled lustily. We kissed again, our tongues playing with each other.

"What about Rekha?" she asked

"You two did not talk about it," I asked

"well, she likes you a lot , I know and maybe we can all live together," she replied

"What if she does not want to do this?" I said

"What if she creates problems?" I asked again

"I don't think so," she said

"Is there something I don't know," I asked

"Well, both me and Padmini went and talked to her after her pregnancy finding," she said

"What? did you tell her it was me?" I was a little angry and surprised

"Yes, it came out better than we expected," she said

"She did not mind?" I asked

"Well, she did at first, but realizing what her father had put her and her mother through, she took it well," mom said

"And she still wants to marry me?" I queried incredulously

"Yes, she always loved you, you were her ideal man after looking at her father, obviously both mother and daughter think alike!!!!" mom said winking at me.

"Oh," That's all I could muster

"Well she said if you like her she would not mind sharing with her mom," mom said

"I cannot believe it, what about you?"

"Oh I have changed, I think we can all live together happily," she winked again

I just kissed mom again and made love to her, in the evening, I picked Padmini back from the office and told her what I did to mom on the way back, she was so excited hearing about it, she was totally wet by the time she was home.

As soon as we got home, she wanted to make love to me, I did with mom watching us, then I made love to mom with her watching, I made both of them stand kiss me turn by turn naked. I made love to Padmini in the night, mom content to let her have me, while I made love to mom in the morning, before going to the college.

Rekha's exams had gotten over and I and mom went to pick her up as Padmini was way too pregnant at the time, everyone thinking what they wanted to, rumour being my kid. As soon as Rekha saw me outside she hugged me tight and kissed me. Mom was around and she blushed.

She whispered "I hear you did things to mom"

I kinda blushed and said "Yes"

Then she got bold and said "I want you to do the same to me"

Mom sternly intervened "You will get pregnant only after marriage"

I said "Yes we should both complete our studies and then only we should get married and have kids"

She kept quiet and then teased, "at least we can play and looked at mom, you need someone when my mom is not available," not knowing I was banging my mom.

I looked at mom and winked. we kept quiet the rest of the journey, occasionally Rekha's hands on my legs while driving, Rekha was in front and mom in back, I kept looking at mom in the rear view mirror and she kept making lewd gestures, I had a hard time , literally HARD!!!!

We reached home and Padmini was waiting. Both mother and daughter hugged and fed each other sweets. I then kissed Padmini on the mouth right in front of Rekha, Rekha was looking straight.

She started teasing me , asking if I should be called "Dad". Padmini looked at her and smiled. I said, right now you can call me "Raja, after I marry you, I will call your mother, my mother," and we all laughed.

She did not even want to see her father, who did not care what was happening and was just happy I took care of his food and drinks. I told her she should and I went with her and asked for his daughter's hand in marriage along with my mother

He said," you already have my wife, you want my daughter too"

I kept quiet and said," I want to marry your daughter Rekha, she loves me and I love her"

"I don't want anything from you and I will take care of everything," I said.

He said "Fine, it is ok"

I was relieved to have got that out of the way and spread news that I was marrying Rekha so I could dispel rumours of me and Padmini go away even though I did not want to. At night, I was in Padmini's room making love to her and my mom and Rekha could hear our loud love making, then I went to mom's room and kissed and made love to her. Rekha could not believe her eyes when she saw me fucking my mom.

She was so aroused she came into the room and hugged me tight, "please fuck me now," she begged.

"Now I know why mom loves you," she said, I kissed her. 

she fell at my mom's feet asking for her blessing, she did the same at her mom's feet. Both of them blessed her and asked her to enjoy but no kids now. Then both came to me and told me to take care of her, "be tender, sweetheart," they advised.

I took her upstairs to another room and we both kissed "I love you, Raja," , "I love you too Rekha"

She hugged me on hearing that and I asked if she was willing to share me.

"If that is way it has to be I am ok, I hope you are satisfied with us only and not more," she replied

I said," I am glad to hear that, you are the only women I loved and now I want all of you," She kissed me and I laid her on the bed slowly I lifted her legs and sucked her toes, she had just finished her periods and was not fertile, so I did not have to wear a condom

My tongue was licking her legs slowly moving to her thighs and then I licked her inner thighs, she just moaned. I removed her skirt and she was in her panties I now lay on her and kissed her mouth and nose, we had a long kiss and I removed her blouse , playing with her lovely boobs, my fingers moving along the sides of her boobs. I pinched at her nipples and she moaned. "You are so beautiful, Rekha," I said, she blushed, my hands were roaming on her back and waist a pulled her up to me. We were now sitting and kissing each other, I placed my hard cock in her hand and she looked at in amazement. she bent down and kissed it, "it is so HARD," she said looking at me

"For you darling", I whispered and started kissing her again.

I put my fingers into her cunt slowly rubbing, her pubic hairs getting stuck in my fingers, I kept taking out and blowing them. I knelt down and smelt her cunt, it smelt so gooood, I kissed her cunt and she moaned again, she was squeezing my cock hard and I liked it. I rubbed my cock around her mouth and she tried to swallow it, but almost gagged.  I smiled and took out, "Try it next time, dear," She smiled back and lay there waiting for me to make the next move. My hands rolled over her arms and waist and I slowly pushed at her cunt with my cock. It was difficult to push in, but I pushed in hard.

She moaned, "Ohhh, it is paining," she cried

"Dont worry, you wont notice the pain," I said "Yesss," she cried again

I slowly started moving up and down, increasing my strokes steadily, she was moaning, no words coming out of our mouths and just looking and kissing each other, while I was increasing my pace more and more. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh, this is so nice," she cried "Yeah, it is so hotttt", I agreed

HARDER AND HARDER...

FASTER And FASTER...

I came in her cunt, cum overflowing in her cunt slowly I came back and kissed her she hugged me, she slept in each others arms naked when in the morning our moms came and woke us up, I pulled both of them to the bed and kissed them, and fucked all three on the same bed. It was so sexy seeing my darling Padmini, her beautiful daughter Rekha and my sexy mother Rukmini in the same bed all naked and exposing their lovely bodies to me.

I pulled Padmini onto me as my mother rubbed her cunt over my mouth, Rekha watched as her mom was riding me and I was sucking mom's clit. I hugged Rekha and we made love once before and during breakfast all the women took turns sitting naked on my lap and me feeding them.

I finally married Rekha couple of years later, her sister and my daughter watching me during the marriage, and I had a baby with Rekha a year later.

All of us live happily now together, taking care of each other,my mother,mom and wife and my two kids......

MY mom wants her own baby, I am very aroused by the idea and both Rekha and Padmini feel Rukmini needs one, maybe next year, my mom will be my kid's mom too!!!! 



My Loving Family Ch. 03



Willa's story

Chapter Three

Nels and John returned to the farm when they heard that Sam had died. I was certain God was punishing me for my wicked ways, and except for cooking and taking care of the children, I spend most of the day, every day, in my room, praying for Sam's soul. 

Then, a month later, when things couldn't get worse and I was still sick with grief and despair, Nels brought me a telegram from Mr. Enders' office in Winnipeg. "We at Bose, Rothchild and Gibbens are very sorry to inform you that Mr. Joseph Enders passed away in Malaysia on the 19th of last month from complications from malaria. His lawyer tells us he hopes to read Mr. Ender's will on the 10th of next month. We're looking forward to meeting you." It was signed, "Sarah Kincaide."

Now, even the brutal security Mr. Enders represented was gone! Wordlessly, I handed the yellow paper to Nels. "Well, this changes things, doesn't it?" he said.

I could only nod. "I'll tell the others at dinner," I whispered.

Nels and I took the train to Winnipeg. I called the Sarah Kincaide who had sent the telegram from the train depot. She insisted that as soon as we were settled in a hotel that we come to her office.

When we arrived at the hushed, carpeted offices of Bose, Rothchild, and Gibbons, we were met by Sarah Kincaide. She was a woman about my age, dressed in a short, dark dress that seemed to emphasize her bust line and her long, shapely legs. I wondered briefly what it would be like to wear a dress as revealing as hers.

After extending her condolences, and offering us tea, she invited us to sit on a leather covered couch while she sat in a plush easy chair facing us. "I don't know how much Mr. Enders may have told you about his work for our office, but he was a highly valued employee. He was overseeing the opening of a tin mine when he became ill.

"Naturally, as his widow," she said, looking directly at me, "you're entitled to his pension and an indemnity payment. Unfortunately," she continued, "it's not a large sum, but the partners would like to express their gratitude for his devotion to the firm by offering you an opportunity to join us in whatever capacity seems best."

I must have betrayed my surprise, because she quickly added, "Please, I didn't mean to sound so crass; it's just that, as personnel director, my mind naturally leads me to dot the "i"s and cross the "t"s." She smiled for the first time. "Please join me for lunch. Then, I understand, you have an appointment at Brothers and Steele at 2 pm?"

Sarah quickly added, "Those are the lawyers handling your husband's estate. Nels stood. "I'd like to join you," he said, "but I can use this time to look at some tractors. I'll meet you at the lawyer's office. OK?"

Although none of us were practicing Mennonites, we still clung to the old ways and the idea of a tractor on the farm seemed odd. My surprise must have been obvious, because Nels had smiled. "Times change, mom."

Mom? This was the first time in the 20 years I'd known him that he called me anything but Willa. What was he trying to say?

That question remained in the back of my mind as I followed Sarah down the hall to the elevator. She had noticed Nels' peculiar form of address, too, because later, after we had been seated in a quiet restaurant on the ground floor, she mentioned it. She looked up from her menu. "It's none of my business, Willa; may I call you Willa? But I'm curious why Mr. Enders referred to you as mom? He's clearly several years older than you are."

I had nodded. "Yes, he's nearly 40 years old. This was the first time he's done that, and I'm as surprised as you are."

There was nothing more said about Nels. Our conversation veered into different channels, and I don't know if I have ever met a more interesting person. Sarah explained what Mr. Ender's role with the company had been. I was surprised. I had thought he was a sort of traveling overseer, but evidently he had been directly in charge of various overseas ventures. Sarah explained, "He had a wonderful talent for getting the most out of the local natives."

I shuddered inwardly, because I knew about that "talent." Knowing his feeling about sin, I doubted whether he had sired half-caste children, but I was sure he had been a brutal boss. But I was listening with only part of my brain because I think I fell in love with Sarah almost from the very beginning. When she asked me to return to her office after meeting with the lawyer, I was almost giddy with joy. I longed to touch her hand and to give her some indication of the feelings that were bubbling inside.

Sarah flagged down a cab, and gave the driver very explicit directions. She also gave me her business card and told me that when my business with the lawyers was finished, that I should show the card to another cab driver.

Nels was waiting for me in the lawyers anteroom. As soon as I walked in the door and identified myself to the pretty receptionist, she led us down a short hallway to Mr. Steele's office.

A very personification of Mr. Pickwick rose to greet us. He briefly expressed his condolences and after we were seated, he opened a file. "This won't take long," he said. "Mr. Enders left only two bequests. He directed that his real property, which is the farm, should pass to his oldest son, and that his personal property should pass to his widow." He paused to let us absorb this news.

Then he continued, "There is a problem with the first bequest, since under the law of Manitoba, the deceased cannot cut off a widow's portion of real property. Therefore, unless you two can resolve this issue, I'm afraid this matter will need to be settled in probate court."

I was completely confused. I had no idea what the man was talking about, but Nels seemed to understand because he was nodding his head as the lawyer spoke. I started to ask for a more detailed explanation, but Nels patted me on the hand, and said, "I'll explain this later." Then he stood, although it seemed to me the lawyer had more to say, thanked him, and taking my hand, led me out of the office. In all, the reading had taken less than five minutes.

Once back on the street, Nels said he wanted to look at more farm equipment, so he put me in a cab and gave the driver the name of our hotel. For some reason, I remained silent until he turned away. Then I handed the driver the card Sarah had given me, and asked instead to be taken to that address.

The Bose, Gibbons offices occupied much of a modern, seven story building in the very heart of downtown Winnipeg. I paid the driver, and feeling very brave, entered an elevator alone for the first time in my life, and pressed the button for the third floor. Sarah's office was near the end of a long corridor. I knocked on her door and heard her respond, "Come in!"

Sarah was standing to one side, silhouetted against a window, as I entered. Her slender form caught my eye, and I blushed when I realized I was wondering what her nude body might look like. 

She greeted me by taking my hands in hers and leading forward to kiss me on the cheek. "Was it very difficult for you at the lawyer's office?" she asked.

I shook my head. "It was over so fast that I hardly remember anything the lawyer said." Then, as best I could, I told her what I had seen and heard. It was a very short description. Then she asked if the lawyer had described the personal property I had inherited. I shook my head. "Nels was upset when he learned that the will would have to go through a court." 

Then I told her how Nels had cut the meeting short even though I was fairly sure the lawyer had more to tell me.

We were sitting facing one another in the soft furniture in the corner of her office. She had not released my hand since I had come into her office, and she continued to hold it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

"Has it occurred to you, dear, that Nels may not have your best interests at heart?"

Obviously, it had; otherwise, I would have let him know I was returning to Sarah's office, but I loyally shook my head.

"Tell me about your family."

I began by describing the farm, and then my children. Whether it was her quiet acceptance, the first sympathetic ear I had found since Sam's death, or something more basic, I can't say, but I was horrified when I suddenly realized I was telling her about Sam, and I began to cry. Sarah moved from her chair to the couch where I was sitting, and took me in her arms.

The floodgates opened. The first thing I knew, I was telling her about our incestuous relationship between great wrenching sobs, and Mr. Ender's brutality. I was also clinging tightly to her. She tilted my head up and kissed me softly on my lips.

Something passed between us in that instant. I was astonished to feel a familiar tingle in my nipples, and a warm wetness in my panties. Then I realized that Sarah was also crying. Partly to comfort her, and partly because I wanted to taste the sweet flavors of her mouth once again, I put my arms around her neck and pulled her mouth to mine. 

There was nothing soft or tentative about that kiss. Rather, it was a lover's kiss; open, demanding and wet. My heart soared as she responded with a passion that equalled my own. Then, breathless, we released one another and sat back. Her makeup was a mess. I hadn't worn any except a touch of lipstick.

She spoke first. "That was a surprise!" 

I could only nod in agreement. "I've. . .never. . ."

She smiled. "There's always a first time for anything." Then she added, "Did you feel you wanted to go further?"

Shamefaced, I slowly nodded.

"So did I," she said. "It's only natural. Some women do this all the time. Did you know that?"

I shook my head. Then I looked at my watch. "I must go meet Nels," I said.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

I sadly shook my head. "I'd really love to, but we're leaving in the morning. I have a family to look after, you know."

"Your children must be old enough to look after themselves."

"Ruthie is 13. Abe is 15 and Joseph is 17. They're old enough to get into trouble, you mean." 

Sarah stood and held out her arms. I allowed myself to burrow into her solid warmth, and as we held each other in a tight embrace, our open mouths met again in a wet lover's kiss. By unspoken consent we stepped back and openly regarded one another. She spoke first. "I don't think I ever met anyone who attracted me more on such short notice than you do, dear. May I call you dear?"

"Call me anything you like, darling," I whispered in return. "I feel the same way." Then an odd notion seized me. "Can I ask for something special?"

"Anything, dear."

"I wonder what your bare breasts would feel like against mine?"

"Let's find out," Susan said as she swiftly stepped to the door and turned the lock. I watched, mesmerized, as she slipped out of her jacket, unbuttoned her blouse, pushed her slip shoulder straps down, reached behind and unhooked her brassiere. 

I waited, holding my breath, for my first glimpse of another woman's bare breasts. And then she lifted her brassiere away

I was stunned by their beauty. Creamy, lushly pear shaped, they stood away from her chest, canted slightly apart. Her nipples were almost like tiny penises, betraying her arousal by standing hard and alert from their beds of pink puffy areola. Never taking my eyes from them, I hastily unbuttoned my dress, slipping it off my shoulders, and then removing my own brassiere. 

We stood silently for a moment, each studying the other's body. Then she opened her arms to me and I happily entered her embrace, enjoying an incredibly erotic feeling as our engorged nipples and puffy breasts touched, then crushed as we tightly hugged each other. Again we kissed.

I don't know what Sarah was feeling, but I was almost faint with arousal, and I distinctly felt moisture trickling down the inside of my right thigh!

Reluctantly, we separated again. "I wish we were in my apartment," Sarah said. "But we can't go further than this in my office -- if anyone were to see us like this, I'd be out of a job in a heartbeat."

Impulsively, I leaned over and licked a crinkled rosy nipple and was instantly rewarded by Susan's swift intake of breath. Then I kissed her hard little spike, and reluctantly picked up my brassiere.

Still flushed, I ran my fingers through my hair, kissed Susan goodbye, and left her office, but not before she hastily scribbled her home address and telephone number on another card and gave it to me.

Nels was impatiently waiting for me in the hotel lobby. "Where have you been?"

I shook my head, asked for my room key, and hurried to the elevator. Once inside my room, after turning the night latch, I quickly undressed, and drew a hot bath. Then, as I soaked, remembering the taste of Sarah's mouth and the crinkly texture of her bare nipple, I began trying to relieve the urgent itch in my own hard nipples by twisting and pinching them with one hand, while my other hand responded to the cravings of my body by exploring the mysteries in my delta.

Masturbation was nothing new, but the intensity of my arousal was. The only time I could remember when I might have been more excited was when dear Sam and I finally consummated our love for each other years ago in that grassy meadow near Virden.

Memories of that blessed moment combined with the stimulation of my recent encounter with Sarah, helped by the urgent stroking by my busy fingers, soon caused a tidal wave of relief to wash through my body. When my breathing slowed, I quickly dried off and got dressed. Then I returned to the lobby. 

Nels and I had supper in the hotel dining room. Then he asked me to marry him. It wasn't a flowery proposal on bent knee with a proffered engagement ring. We were finishing our coffee. He had been withdrawn during supper, and for a guilty moment, I had wondered if he somehow knew about my sudden infatuation with Susan. I needn't have worried.

He looked up from his coffee cup. "You know, Willa, I've been thinking. I mean, I have two-thirds of the farm while you evidently have one third. Why don't we get married so we can each own the whole thing?"

I stared at him in surprise. 'You mean so you can own the whole thing,' I thought as I studied his face. He not only talked like his father, be was beginning to resemble him, and evidently was even beginning to think like him. I shuddered inwardly at the thought.

I couldn't imagine marrying the man, but something warned me to avoid irritating him. "That's an interesting idea," I said, "but marriage means more to me than a business merger."

"I didn't mean it to sound that way," he said. "I've been thinking about asking you ever since we came to Winnipeg."

"It's been less than a week since we learned that Mr. Enders had passed away, Nels," I reminded him. "To be honest, I think it's much too early for us to be talking about getting married. After all, your father is hardly cold in his grave."

Nels nodded solemnly. "You're right. I just wanted to let you know how I feel before you take up with somebody else."

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Nels." Hoping I wasn't leading him on, I added, "And I'm flattered that you think someone else might be interested in an old woman like me!"

I expected him to respond with a courteous, "You're not that old," or something like that. But instead, he merely nodded and said, "Think about it."

We returned to Virden the next day. 

Nels was never much of a talker, but he scarcely said two words to me after my gentle refusal at supper the previous evening. Instead, he morosely stared out the train window at the passing landscape.

When I stepped down from the railroad car, I was relieved to see our team tied to the hitching rail by the tiny depot. Maud and Molly were getting along in years, and were much less likely to be spooked by the train than younger horses who were sometimes tied out of sight of the train depot.

Joseph helped his brother load the wagon with things Nels had bought for the farm. Then he surrendered the reins to Nels, and sat between us for the hour-long ride back to the farm.

Three nights later, I woke out of a deep sleep to feel a hand on my breast. At first, I thought I might be dreaming, but the hand was too insistent; too aggressive, and I suddenly realized that someone was in my bed!

My first impulse was to scream, but as quickly as I took a breath, a rough hand covered my mouth to stifle it. "You don't want to wake the kids!"

It was Nels! "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I come to claim what's rightfully mine!", he said as he stripped the covers away. 

"You stop it this minute!!" I whispered.

Instead of replying, he straddled my body, sitting on my thighs, and reached for the collar of my night dress. I tried to stop him, but my pitiful strength was of no use. Ignoring my feeble efforts, he ripped the fabric all the way to my waist. Then he reached through the opening he had created, and began rubbing and squeezing my tender breasts. 

I beat at his invading arms with my clenched fists, but my efforts seemed only to goad him into taking further license with my body because he moved further back and ripped the material down to my knees. "Why are you doing this, Nels?" I asked between sobs.

"I have my reasons," he muttered as, holding my wrists in one hand, be lifted the hem of my ruined night dress to my waist with the other. Then he shifted his weight and wedged a sharp, bony knee between my thighs, forcing my knees to part. "If it was good enough for my daddy, it's good enough for me!"

I suddenly realized that Nels was naked! Still holding my wrists in one hand, he forced my legs further apart, and I felt a searing pain in my crotch as he began thrusting his naked cock at my womanhood seeking my pussy. 

It seemed an eternity before I felt his cock enter me. The pain was excruciating as he savagely thrust himself into me. I was sure I was suffering physical harm, as he continued his mad dance into my privates. Suddenly, he went rigid, and I felt his seed splashing into my womb.

He grunted his satisfaction and withdrew his cock. "You're my woman, now," he hissed, "and don't you forget it!" 

If I had had a kitchen knife at that moment, I would have killed him!

In the morning, as I served breakfast, Nels treated me no differently than on any other day. After breakfast, he and Joseph went out to the barn to harness the team. I knew they would be gone until dinner time, so after they disappeared, I hastily packed a bag. Then I sat down with Abraham and Ruthie and told them I had to leave the farm; that they were free to come with me or stay behind, just as they chose.

It broke my heart, but Abraham, the child I had borne my brother/lover, Sam, elected to remain with his brothers. Ruthie, however, seemed glad for a chance to leave the farm and chose to pack a bag for herself. Together we trudged out to the main road.

It wasn't long before a truck stopped, and we gratefully rode the rest of the way into Vinton. The driver was kind enough to take us to the station depot, and it's a good thing he did because we were just in time to catch the train into Winnipeg.

When we reached Winnipeg, I called Sarah.



My Loving Family Ch. 04



Synopsis: Willa, now widowed, was raped by her stepson and, taking her daughter Ruth, left the farm and ran away to Winnipeg where she called Sarah.

*****

I was raised by a single mother in a small apartment in Winnipeg. Mine was an ordinary childhood except we were poor. In the wintertime, I remember I was almost always cold. 

I was a bright girl and graduated from high school with honors. That led to a small scholarship at a local college. I managed to complete nearly three years of my program before we, my boyfriend Graham and I, realized I was pregnant. 

Since we were both students, we had very little money. My mother had passed away two years earlier (for which I was grateful because she would have been scandalized to learn about my condition). Graham's people were barely able to pay his tuition, so our planning for the baby meant one of us would have to drop out of school and find a job.

Graham was ahead of me, so it seemed only logical that I should go to work. After he graduated, it would be my turn to return to school, at least on a part-time basis. I found a receptionist's position at Bose, Rothchild. 

In due course, Nonnie was born. Graham and I had kept postponing our wedding, but we were as happy in our tiny apartment as newlyweds, and I knew it was just a matter time before he made an "honest woman" of me. 

Nonnie was a happy baby, content to lie on her back for hours playing with her toes. She was truly the light of my life, or perhaps I should say, our lives. I knew Graham cared as deeply for her as I did. Or at least I thought he did.

He graduated on schedule, but instead of seeking local employment, went straight away to a stock broker's position in Toronto. "Just wait, dearest, until my commissions begin rolling in. Then we'll be on easy street and together forever." He had a way a tickling my neck that was very distracting, and somehow, every time he said that, he'd tickle me and I'd forget to ask him to be more definite. I wonder how many other gullible girls have fallen into that trap?

At first, Graham wrote to us every day, glowingly describing the firm, the partners, and his wonderful prospects. However, whenever I'd ask him to contribute to Nonnie's support, he'd either ignore my request or promise that he'd put a check in the mail "next week." Next week, of course, never came. 

A year went by. A year when we were nearly as poor as I was in my own childhood. A year of frustrating promises that never materialized, and finally a dull realization that Graham had closed the book on his college "fling" with me, and was no longer interested in his little family. Even though we had not married, I still clung to the hope that we could be reunited.

Almost exactly a year after he left, I bundled little Nonnie up for a train ride to Toronto. If he wouldn't come to us, then clearly we had to go to him. I thought even if he had lost interest in me, that when he saw our baby, he would remember his responsibilities.

Traveling any distance with a baby is always very exhausting. The trip from Winnipeg to Toronto particularly so, since it required almost a full 24 hours. Sitting up all night in a coach while trying to prevent the baby from disturbing other passengers was almost more than I could handle. Thus, I was groggy when, at last, we arrived in the big city.

It was about nine o'clock in the morning when I found a telephone booth and after searching the directory, found Graham's number and dialed it. I was sure he would be at his apartment, since it was a Saturday morning. The phone rang, and then I heard a young woman's voice. "Hello?"

I gently hung the receiver back on its hook, took a deep breath, and on shaky legs, made my way to a bench. As you could imagine, I was more than shocked; stunned might be a more accurate description. Yet what did I expect? Was it reasonable of me to assume that because I was playing the game straight that he would do the same? After all, I had Nonnie, while he, theoretically at least, had no one.

More urgently, as the surprise wore off, I had to consider what to do next. Should I confront him and his girl friend? Or should I quietly retreat to Winnipeg and pretend someone else had made that fateful telephone call?

As you'll learn when you hear the rest of my story, I seldom retreat quietly. Picking Nonnie up again, I stepped out of the train depot and flagged the first cab in line. I don't remember much about that cab ride because my stomach was in knots and I feverishly rehearsed first one scenario, then another. But even in my wildest imagination, I could never have guessed the surprise I was about to receive.

The apartment house where Graham lived seemed a bit old fashioned, which suggested that its tenants would be living modestly. His apartment was on the second floor. I climbed the stairs and paused for a moment to catch my breath and hopefully quiet my fluttering pulse. Number 4 was directly across the hall. Taking a deep breath, I resolutely pressed the doorbell button.

It seemed an eternity -- indeed, I even had an insane impulse to turn and run -- before the door opened and I stared into the eyes of a very pregnant statuesque redhead wearing a revealing housecoat. "Yes?"

This was all wrong. Graham should have answered the door! What should I say? "Is Graham here?" seemed inane, almost foolish. Of course he was there! On the other hand, "I'd like to speak to Graham" seemed harsh.

Just then, Graham's face appeared behind the redhead. "My God! Where did you come from, Sarah?"

The redhead looked perplexed, especially after Graham invited us in. Silently, he ushered us into the sitting room. I had expected at least a welcoming hug and a kiss, even with his girl friend standing to one side. I had not expect to be treated like a distant cousin.

We sat facing one another. Graham was decidedly older than the enthusiastic young man who had left Winnipeg a scant 12 months earlier. I thought I detected imbedded worry lines in his face. He spoke first.

"You're looking just as beautiful as ever," he said with an obviously forced joviality.

There seemed only one way to respond. "I don't understand, Graham. You're acting almost as if you're unhappy to see your fiancee and your baby. You do remember her, don't you?"

I was surprised when the redhead perched herself on the arm of Graham's chair. I had expected her to at least remain in the background if not leave the apartment. She seemed almost defiant.

Graham seemed to be groping for words. "Of course I remember her," he said. But things have changed." He paused, then blurted, "There is no nice way to tell you, Sarah, but you see, Tammy, here, is my wife!"

I felt suddenly as if I had been kicked in the stomach. I'm sure I might have fainted had I not been seated. "How. . .? Ahh, ahh, what did you say?" was the best I could manage.

"Tammy and I were married about six months ago; shortly after . . ." Graham looked meaningfully toward her prominent stomach.

A girl friend, even a live-in mistress, I might have been able to work myself around -- but this was the ultimate betrayal! I was suddenly very angry. 'Never forget, Mister, your name is on her birth certificate!" Rising, I heard myself say, "You may be able to duck out on me -- but you can bet your ass, you'll be paying child support for the next 18 years. Your new wife," I nearly spat the word, "will have to make do with what's left!"

Gathering Nonnie to my breast, I stormed out of the apartment. I don't know when I've been more angry. In a way, I suppose anger was more preferable than the sick despair I began to experience after checking into a hotel near the train station, because I must have cried for hours in the privacy of our hotel room. All my hopes and dreams, all my beautiful plans for the future, were suddenly trashed.

Nonnie and I had a late supper in the hotel dining room, and after returning to our room, I reflected on a bitter irony. I was raised by a single parent, and now it seemed likely that poor little Nonnie was destined to carry on the tradition. However, there was a difference. My father had died. Nonnie's father was alive and well. With that thought firmly in mind, I began to search the yellow pages in the phone book for a lawyer.

The showdown with Graham had occurred on Saturday. The next train to Winnipeg would leave Monday afternoon, so Nonnie and I spent Sunday window shopping and admiring the big city. Shortly after eight o'clock on Monday morning, I got an early appointment to see a lawyer. That afternoon, we boarded the train for an unhappy ride back to Winnipeg.

On that trip, I had something of an epiphany. As I sat holding Nonnie on my lap, watching the Ontario landscape flow past my train window, it occurred to me how foolish I had been to waste a year of my young, vital life planning for a future that did not exist. More than that, the experience with Graham left an invisible but indelible mark on my psyche. 

I also knew, without even thinking about it very much, that it would be a long time before I trusted another man. On the other hand, now that I was free of my obsession with Graham, I actually found myself getting moist as I speculated about a man sitting across the aisle, frankly wondering how skilled he was with his tongue and fingers and -- of course -- how well endowed he might be.

Shaking my head to clear it of those unbidden thoughts, I turned my attention to Nonnie, who was becoming restless and obviously needed changing. Upon my return with the baby from the lavatory, I found I had company. A young man about my age was carelessly sprawled across the facing seat, ostensibly reading a magazine.

I tried to ignore him as I turned away to open my blouse so I could feed Nonnie as unobtrusively and modestly as possible. However, even though I shielded my exposed breast under Nonnie's burping towel, and never looked up, I nevertheless felt his eyes on me and that, combined with Nonnie's vigorous and noisy assault on my nipple caused endless ripples of tiny lightning sparks to descent into my delta, and the moistening I had experienced earlier now became an unpleasant, aching emptiness.

Despite my resolve, almost involuntarily, I glanced up and saw him openly staring at my partly exposed breast. Suddenly angered by his unwarranted invasion of my privacy, I snapped, "Haven't you anything better to do than stare at a woman feeding her baby?"

I spoke more loudly than I intended, and was terribly embarrassed to see heads in adjoining seats turn to stare at me. The older man sitting across the aisle leaned over and spoke to the young man. "I'd suggest you find another place to sit before I have to call the conductor," he said in a pleasant tone.

My young tormentor began to frame a reply, then retreated. He turned to me. "Sorry if I upset you, Mam," he said. He stood, and holding his magazine, wandered up the aisle looking for another place to sit.

I relaxed, closing my eyes, as I enjoyed Nonnie's rhythmic pull on my nipple. When she emptied one breast, I offered the other one but she was satisfied for the moment. I put her head on my shoulder and patted her gently until I was rewarded with her after-lunch belch. Then I laid her across my lap and put myself back together.

"I hope you didn't mind when I interfered just now." Startled, I looked up. My middle-aged benefactor was standing in the aisle, looking anxiously down at me.

I smiled. "Of course not, I'm grateful. Sometimes I wonder where they learned their manners." Then I remembered my own, and invited him to sit where the young man had lounged previously.

I now recognized his Australian accent. "My name is Sarah," I offered.

"My friends call me Jack."

"Are you on vacation?" I asked.

"No, this is a business trip," he replied.

"I don't mean to pry," I said, "but I'm naturally curious about strangers and I hope you don't mind if I ask what you do?"

"I'm a mining engineer," Jack said. "My mates and I have a nice little prospect that is worth opening up. The problem, as always, is money." He made a wry face. "I'm going to Winnipeg to talk to a bunch of investment bankers."

"You are? What a coincidence!"

Jack gave me a curious look. "Don't tell me you're an investment banker!"

I had to laugh at that. "Not exactly," I said. "But I work for an investment company. Mining is one of the things they do." Later, I would try to remember if I had mentioned the firm's name.

Before much longer, Jack moved to sit beside me. Then, despite my protests, he bought sandwiches and steaming cartons of coffee for us from a food peddlar who came aboard the train at one of our many stops. "You've got to eat," he gently reminded me, looking meaningfully at Nonnie's sleeping form.

Somehow, as the landscape outside our window darkened, I discovered my head was resting comfortably against his arm. Twice, I entrusted him to look after Nonnie while I went to the lady's loo, so it seemed only natural.

I must have dozed. When I woke, I smelled the comforting odor of tobacco, a male deodorant, and a subtle unidentifiable scent that made my pussy itch. Gradually, I became aware that the material against which my cheek rested was different than the coarse weave that covered the seat.

Jack was holding me and my baby gently against his chest. He felt me stir. "Had a little nap, did you?" he murmured.

Abruptly, I sat up. Only the glow of the carriage's night lights broke the darkness. Glancing around, I saw that most of my fellow passengers had succumbed, as I had. Only here and there did a reading light penetrate the general gloom.

As I stirred and stretched, Nonnie abruptly woke and began to cry. Desperate to prevent her from waking the other passengers, I carelessly pulled my blouse from my skirt, and lifted my bra rather than unhooking it, thus exposing both breasts. Then, as she took a deep breath to announce her frustration and hunger, I popped a swollen nipple into her open mouth. Her cry quickly became a contented gurgle as she began to suck.

"Ah, she's a lucky lass," my seatmate breathed in my ear.

I immediately understood his double meaning and was suddenly conscious of his arm around my shoulder and hand dangling carelessly within inches of my exposed breast. Both nipples began to tingle; one from my daughter's energetic chewing and pulling, and the other in anticipation of an "accidental" touch that I knew was imminent. I felt my panties getting wet.

Several minutes went by while I waited for his touch. In the meanwhile, as the tension surrounding our little world continued to build, I was startled by an assault from a different direction. Nonnie was nursing from my left breast and consequently, I cradled her in my left arm. At a year and a half, she was too heavy to be held for very long unless I could find a position that supported my elbow.

Here, while my attention was divided between Nonnie and the incipient caress I was sure Jack was about to bestow, my elbow rested innocently in his lap. Suddenly, I realized the tip of my elbow was pressing against something in the front of his trousers that was very hard! Unbidden, the famous line, "Is that a flashlight in your pocket or are you glad to see me" popped into my mind, and tense with anticipation and nervous heat, I giggled. 

Like a collapsing dam, the sexual tension was suddenly broken. Somehow, it seemed perfectly natural that Jack's hand was firmly cupping my bare breast, his thumb gently rubbing my nipple. He pulled me closer to him, causing my elbow to press more firmly against his erection. Fireworks were going off in my pussy, and to my enormous surprise, when he leaned down to kiss the hair on top of my head, I felt a sudden, violent tidal wave wash through my body. I know my skirt was wet, but somehow it didn't matter.

Oblivious to the wonderful feelings her mother was experiencing, Nonnie continued to suck contentedly at my breast. Careful not to disturb her, I slid my right hand under her and into Jack's lap where I wrapped my fingers around his stiff erection through the cloth covering his lap.

"Wait a sec," he whispered. I felt him lift himself and heard the quiet metallic brrr of his zipper being lowered. "It's all yours, sweetheart." he said.

I worked my hand through his open fly and through the slit in his shorts. My hand closed around his hot, hard penis, and I automatically began caressing it by gently sliding my hand back and forth, feeling it's silky rigidity and irregular, lumpy surface where engorged blood vessels gave it character and substance.

I felt damp and achingly empty. As Nonnie released my nipple and yawned, I felt a sudden impulsive need. I handed her and her towel to him. "You burp her," I whispered as I lowered my head over his lap while gently working his sturdy cock up through his clothing.

I gazed lovingly at the blunt end of his straining member, automatically comparing it with Graham's while slowly sliding his foreskin back, exposing its thick crimson head, glistening in the dim light from the lubricating fluids secreted under that protective covering.

Acting impulsively, I opened my mouth and explored the underside of the head with the wet tip of my tongue. The odor and sharp, astringent flavor sent a thunderbolt into my belly, and without a second thought -- although I had never done this before -- I engulfed as much of his penis in my mouth as I could and I began to suck as industriously as Nonnie had minutes earlier on my nipple, and with even greater hunger.

His foreskin was fully retracted. Careful to prevent my teeth from touching the sensitive mucus membrane covering the end of his cock, I directed it into a pouch in my cheek, all the while stimulating it with my continuously swirling tongue and by pumping his rigid member with my hand.

By this time, I was cupping his balls in my right hand, while pumping with my left. His balls suddenly began to tighten. I swirled my tongue around the head of his straining cock one last time, and, pulling my head away, caught his seed in the end of Nonnie's towel.

"That was lovely, darlin'," he whispered gratefully. "I wish I could do the same for you, but people might notice."

I couldn't help it. The picture he painted was so ludicrous, I giggled nervously. He misunderstood. "Let's see if we can't work this out," he said with typically Australian daring. I quickly tucked my breasts back into my brassiere, and lowered my blouse. "Here. You take the little darlin' back."

He handed Nonnie back to me. She was sound asleep. I pulled a corner of her blanket over her face to shield it from the dim light in the sleeping coach, and was suddenly aware that my skirt was being lifted and my knees separated. Looking below Nonnie's sleeping form, I saw Jack on his knees with his head beneath my skirt! "No! Not here, Jack!"

He looked up at me with an impish grin. Instead of a sedate businessman in his mid '40s, I saw an obstreperous teenager grinning up at me. "If not here, where? If not now, when?"

Despite myself, I had to smile. "I've got to get some sleep," I said. "Why don't you go back to your seat and do the same?"

We pulled into the train station in Winnipeg right on time. As we stood, preparing to file off the car, Jack offered me his business card and told me the name of his hotel. "Please give me a call," he said. "I'd love to take you to dinner." 

I merely shrugged. "We'll see." 

(to be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 05



Synopsis: Sarah's college lover abandoned her and her baby, but she meets a man on the train who comforts her. On an impulse, she gives him a blow job. He asks for a date later in the week, but she has other things to think about.

Part II -- Sarah's Story

Chapter Five

Two days later, I received a strange summons to Mr. Bose's office. It was almost unheard of for a receptionist to be called to the third floor, so I was frightened, but at the same time, intensely curious because I knew that if I were to fired, that message would have come from Personnel, not the executive office suite. After calling Sally to relieve me, I hurried into the ladies to make myself as presentable as possible, sadly wishing I taken more care with my hair that morning and had selected a different ensemble. Then I entered the elevator.

This was the first time I had been to the third floor and I had no idea what to expect, but even so, I was surprised at how drab and unassuming the furnishings were. The only difference I could see between the furnishings on the first floor and the third was the beige carpet. Otherwise, like the first floor, a receptionist's desk faced the elevator. The same cluster of chairs and coffee table occupied a small space against the wall to the receptionist's left. A dark hallway opened on the right.

I gave my name to the gray haired woman behind the desk. She nodded briefly, and picked up her phone. Then she really looked at me for the first time. "Mr. Bose will see you now," she said. "Third door on your right," she added, nodding toward the hall.

I smiled, expecting a smile in return, but her stare was entirely neutral, which, in the circumstances, seemed very strange. Puzzled and slightly frightened, I tapped on the third door. A metallic woman's voice responded from a small speaker over the door. "Please enter."

I pushed the door open. "Miss Kincade?" A pretty blonde about my age was standing behind her desk.

Nodding, I swiftly surveyed the rich furnishings of this room compared with the drab austerity of the reception area. My surprise must have been obvious because the woman smiled. "You're not the first person to see the incongruity." Her voice took on a confidential tone. "It's Mr. Boses way of impressing our clients. Come this way, please."

She led me to an ornate door. She tapped briefly, then without waiting for an answer, opened it and ushered me inside. "Miss Kincaide," she said.

A heavyset man sat behind a large mahogany desk. "Thank you, Miss Johnson," he said. "Please sit down, Miss Kincaide." He waved his hand toward a chair facing his desk, as I heard the door behind me close.

Sunlight streamed though a tall window directly behind Mr. Bose, making it difficult to read his features, or even to see them very clearly. He appeared to be a man well into middle age with thick graying hair and a pleasant smile. "I'm sure you must be wondering why I asked to see you, Miss Kincaide." He paused briefly, then continued, "Before getting into that, however, let me see . . ." He was thumbing through some papers in a file. I suddenly realized, with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, that it was my personnel file!

"Let me see," he repeated, "you've been with us now for roughly two years. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir," I said, wondering where this was taking us.

"Are you happy, here?"

Dumbly, I nodded.

"I understand you're a single mother. I'll bet you'd like a raise, wouldn't you? And maybe find a career path with us?"

More puzzled than ever, I nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. "I like working here, Mr. Bose, and I'd especially like to plan a career."

"Tell me about your family. It says here that your mother passed away several years ago. What about your father?"

"I don't know anything about my father. I never met him."

"Brothers? Sisters? Cousins?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You're not planning to get married soon?"

A quick bitter memory of that awful moment in Toronto flashed across my mind. "Not in the least," I said firmly.

"Nobody even on the horizon?"

Mr. Bose was beginning to irritate me. He was asking highly personal questions that he had no right to ask, but the tantalizing thought of a raise kept me in my chair. I shook my head.

Evidently, he realized he had pushed me about as far as I was willing to go. "Believe me, Miss Kincaide, I have a special reason for asking these personal questions. You'll understand why in a moment." Then he pushed a legal looking document across his desk. "This is a non-disclosure agreement; the same agreement our agents sign before going into the field to audit and otherwise inspect our investments. In exchange for your signature, we will raise your salary $100/month. In addition, you may be paid production bonuses as appropriate.

"However, unlike the business related subjects covered in the agreements our agents sign, let me stress that this confidentiality obligation includes any internal conversations or discussions concerning your employment or job assignments. Do I make myself clear?

"One more thing," Mr. Bose added, "I want you to go into this with your eyes open. You should realize that if you were to breach this agreement by disclosing to third parties the substance of any of those conversations or discussions, that you would be subject to immediate dismissal with prejudice and in addition incur considerable civil liability."

I wasn't entirely clear about the implications, although I knew that "with prejudice" would essentially amount to a negative job recommendation, as though I were suspected of being an embezzler, but that extra $100 in my paycheck seemed like found money. I nodded my agreement.

Mr. Bose smiled benignly. "I thought you'd see the advantage of this opportunity. He pressed a button on his deck.

The door behind me opened, and I heard Miss Johnson say, "You called, Mr. Bose?"

"Yes. Come in please, and close the door. I want you to witness Miss Kincaide's signature." Both Mr. Bose and Miss Johnson watched intently as I accepted the pen he offered and scrawled my signature on the dotted line. That's how I became the company whore.

It didn't happen all at once, of course. It was that chance encounter with Jack Longdon on the return trip from Toronto that caused it to happen at all. After Miss Johnson was dismissed again, I learned that Jack had mentioned our meeting to Mr. Bose, and had expressed his disappointment that I had not called him at his hotel. I'm not sure how graphic his description of that meeting was, but evidently Mr. Bose had some idea what had happened.

If, during the next 15 years, I heard Mr. Bose say "A satisfied client is a happy client" once, I heard it a thousand times. But I heard it then for the first time. "Miss Kincaide, I suggest you give Mr. Longdon a call at his hotel today, and accept his dinner reservation. After all, a satisfied client is a happy client." 

He paused and frowned. Then he added, "This is a bit awkward, Miss Kincaide, but I've been married long enough to know that women in general are much more concerned about their appearance than men, especially out in public. Therefore, please let me make this as easy for you as possible."

He opened his wallet and extracted four $100 bills which he laid on his desk. "Why not take the rest of the afternoon off so you can make proper preparations?"

Although Mr. Bose had framed his request as a suggestion, I knew it was a veiled order; that it was part of my new job. Feeling already soiled by my ready acceptance of his outrageous proposal, I accepted the money. Consequently, I called Jack Longdon at his hotel as soon as I returned to my apartment. I suspect he may have been expecting my call, but he had the good grace to act pleasantly surprised.

"Why Sarah," he had said, "this is a pleasant surprise! I thought you had forgotten about me."

"It's just that I've been very busy, Jack. I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier."

After a brief chat, Jack said he'd have to make arrangements for dinner. "Shall we say at around eight o'clock?" That was fine with me. I told him I'd be out for the rest of the afternoon, but that he could leave a message for me on my machine if I failed to reach him when I returned from running my errands.

My first stop was at a neighborhood beauty salon for a cut, comb-out, and a manicure. Mr. Bose also bought me a facial while I relaxed, speculating how the evening might play out. Then I went shopping for a "suitable" dress. My clothes were either vintage undergraduate casual or severely conservative business clothes; high necked blouses, long pleated skirts and concealing jackets; that sort of thing. Hardly suitable for my new role.

The truth was, however, that I honestly didn't know how to dress for this kind of occasion without looking like a blatant streetwalker. I decided to seek expert advice. Consequently, as I searched through a half dozen stores crowded with racks of clothing, I was looking more for the right sales clerk than for the right dress.

I found her in a small clothing store. A young woman wearing a snug knit dress. She wore her dark hair in a stylish swirl on one side of her head, a tad too much lipstick, and a dress which revealed somewhat more cleavage than one might expect in a women's store, and which ended perhaps three inches above her knee. Not exactly a tart, but not Mother Teresa, either.

There were only two other women in the store idly browsing through the racks, so I had the clerk's undivided attention. After I explained my dilemma, and described my limited budget, she immediately led me to the designer dresses -- a strange place for a single mother on a limited budget. "Just how hot is this date?" I honestly couldn't tell her. "Well, how hot do you want it to be?" Again I shrugged.

She seemed baffled by my indecision, but we began feeling our way through the intimate designs that she felt suited my figure and my plans. When she found one that she was certain was me, one I wasn't even sure I could wear out of the dressing room, she pointed out that my underpinnings did not fit the cut of this "killer" dress. 

Next stop: Lingerie. "Well, you'll need an underwire," she said, eyeing my generous chest. Then she snapped her fingers. "I have a better idea." She pulled open a drawer behind the counter, and removed a black lace bustier with hardly any cup at all.

I had never owned such an exotic undergarment before, so when I tried my new ensemble on in the dressing room, I was surprised at how everything balanced, and how the dress caressed my newly pert chest that threatened to spill right over the top at any moment. Nice engineering, I thought. 

The sales clerk laughed at the look on my face. Then, without commenting on my cotton flower-sprigged panties, she asked, "Do you have any thongs?" When I shook my head, she said, "You don't want a panty line."

Frankly, I blushed at the wisp of black lace she fished from another drawer and waved as if it were a hankie before dropping it silkily in top of the other garments. Panties? hardly!

Finally she added a package of thigh-high hose to the growing pile on the counter. I was eager to try on my new clothes in the privacy of my apartment and embarrassed by the attention I was drawing from the other shoppers who were watching me with avid curiosity. The clerk snapped her fingers again, and took the package of thigh-highs from the pile.

What now? A garter belt? I almost giggled at the thought of that much hardware under the slip of a dress we had selected. But no. She opened still another drawer and reverently brought a slim box to the counter, opened it, and pulled the tissue aside to reveal black silk stockings with a fine-knit lace top to grip my thighs. 

As she wrapped my purchases and I paid with the money Mr. Bose had given me (and an additional $150 on my charge card), I saw that my audience had drawn nearer while the sales clerk made a big deal out of smoothing out the items and lowering them carefully, one at a time, separated by layers of scented tissue paper into the dress box.

I blushed again, to my dismay, as she arranged the lace thong on the bustier, remembering how exposed my heavy breasts were above the dress's decolletage. The salesgirl had laughed at my crimson face as I asked, "Isn't this a little . .?"

"Nope. It's what they are wearing, and frankly, I think this dress was made for you. One more thing. Shoes will make this outfit! Not the pumps you probably have in mind, but strappy shoes. Go around the corner to Trilby's, ask for Frank, tell him that Dolly said you need three inch heels."

"I haven't worn heels for . . ."

"It doesn't matter. Take them home and wear them for an hour or so around your apartment. Not too long. Just long enough to get used to the height, but before sore spots can develop.

"One more thing. Pick up a tube of darker lip gloss. Remember, you're not trying for a natural look tonight!"

The phone was ringing as I let myself into my apartment, and I quickly picked up the receiver. It was Jack. He had managed to get reservations for 7:30 in the most expensive restaurant in town. 

It was a little later than that when my cab arrived at the restaurant. Jack was waiting for me in the vestibule. When he saw me being ushered through the front door, his jaw almost literally dropped. His obvious pleasure at my appearance was very complimentary; so much so, as a matter of fact, that I was somewhat embarrassed.

"Forgive me, Sarah. It's just that . . ."

"We're not sitting on a train in the middle of the night while I'm trying to take care of a crying baby," I said. "Tonight, she's in the care of her baby sitter."

I know I must have blushed at his next remark, "You mean I won't have to hold her again?" That was going a little too fast. Hurriedly I changed the subject but the maître d' interrupted us at that point and led us to our table. 

The dinner, the elegant surroundings, and Jack's obvious admiration were intoxicating enough, but in addition, I had had a cocktail before dinner in an effort to quell my nervousness, and during dinner we were served two different wines. For a person unaccustomed to alcohol, especially one who had skipped lunch to comply with Mr. Bose's instructions, that was a substantial amount; enough, at any rate, so when Jack suggested going to a night club, I readily agreed.

We were seated side by side in the club. I was beginning to feel as sexy as I must have looked. I was going to make it as long as I did not glance down where my breasts rode proudly, in plain view with the silk of the dress warm against my shoulders. When he invited me to dance, I stood and led the way to the already crowded small dance floor. 

The band was playing a slow number, so throwing caution to the winds, I wrapped my arms around Jack's neck, feeling my breasts firm against his chest while he pulled me tight enough against his body so his engorged manhood was pressed just as firmly against my abdomen. Almost immediately, his warmth, his musky odor and, of course, the manly object pressing against my belly caused a gentle clenching deep within me. Uh-oh, I thought as my head spun when he steered us in circles.

As we moved together, my nipples, always engorged, began tingling, telegraphing all sorts of messages and causing ripples of muscles tensing and relaxing, as if warming up for play, from my oh-so-alert belly around to the small of my back where his hand moved gently to stroke what must have been noticeable spasms, around and down to the moist curls within that lace thong and into my vulva. 

Someone, not me, but someone was orchestrating that I had not used for a long time, and I found myself thrusting my pelvis hungrily against his.

He whispered, "I can't take much more of this. I'm afraid I'll embarrass us both. Would you like to come back to my hotel for a nightcap?" Without a moment's hesitation, I nodded. To be honest about it, I was as eager as he to shed the clothes that interfered with the meeting of our bodies and to take up where we had left off a few days earlier on the train. It never once crossed my mind that I was doing exactly what Mr. Bose wanted me to do. I was doing this because I wanted to.

Instead of pausing at the hotel bar for a nightcap, we practically raced to the elevator, and once inside, as the car rose to his floor, Jack held me in a tight embrace, his open, wet mouth sucking on my lips. One hand held his head against mine while the other one played naughty games and explored his impressive outline. I was so hot by this time that I did not care about the convulsion that his tongue's thrust in my hungry mouth had caused, resulting in dampness that the lacy thong could not contain.

Once safely inside his suite, neither of us wasted time. He had partly unzipped my dress in the elevator while I was fondling him, so it required only a quick reach and a shrug and I was standing before him with my dress and incredible wet panties puddled on the floor around my feet, wearing my bustier, thigh- high hose, and those strappy heels. I backed up toward the bed, and only then did I begin to undo the bustier. . .one hook at a time . . slowly, letting it fall where it may. I moved around the room, knowing his eyes were on me, eating me up as I strutted . . . for me as much as for him.

If a look could ravish, Jack had already impaled me before he opened his trousers. He was sitting on the bed removing his shoes. "Here, let me help," I said, strangely eager to serve him.

Wearing only my hose and shoes (I don't know why men find heels so sexy!), embarrassed by the way my milk-filled breasts swung every time I moved, I dropped to my knees and removed his shoes and socks. I did it as slowly as possible, seeing his sweat and enjoying prolonging what I knew was coming. I drew off the sock and stroked his foot. Daring him to rush me, to make the first move.

He stood. I unfastened his belt, unbuttoned his waistband, and lowered his zipper. His trousers dropped around his ankles. My attention was fixed on the seemingly huge bulge in his boxers. I exposed his magnificent penis, standing tall and proud, by gently tugging the elastic material over his jutting manhood. His hairy scrotum hung bull like, between his muscled thighs.

While I admired his phallus, he untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Then he stood and pulled me to my feet and again held me in a tight embrace. I could almost feel my toes curl as I luxuriated in the feel of his warm, bare hairy body against mine.

He fell backward on the bed, pulling me down on top of him. I pushed myself out of his grasp. "I want to feel your bare hairy chest with my breasts," I said. I moved my torso back and forth dragging my breasts across his chest.

Unavoidably, my left breast was leaking, and slick trails of moisture followed their movement. "It's been over forty years since I last tasted mother's milk," he said as he captured my nipple between his lips and sucked it against his teeth deep into his mouth. My entire vulva seemed filled with sparks! Desperate with need, I straddled his body while I guided the tip of his beautiful penis into my hungry vagina. Then I slowly lowered my body, savoring the delicious sensations rippling through me as I felt his tool parting the moist, hot membranes in my body. I sat still for a minute or two adjusting to his size. Then I leaned forward again, this time rocking my pelvis back and forth while slowly swinging my breasts and dragging my nipples across his face.

"Hang on," he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. Then he rolled us over. I suddenly felt like a young girl about to lose her hymen when I heard him say, "I'm going to give you the fucking you deserve!"

He lifted my legs up to his shoulders and began slamming himself into me, seemingly penetrating me deeper and deeper with every hard thrust. A great tidal wave began to build deep in my loins, extending like a huge curling wave over me. I heard a woman's voice cry, "Oh, fuck me Jack, oh God, oh God, harder, HARDER, a little more, a . . .CRASH!!! The wave broke over me at the same moment I realized the voice was mine.




My Loving Family Ch. 05



I suddenly felt his penis spasm in me, and an after shock ricochetted and rippled through me. And through me. And through me.

He let my legs down and we laid tightly wrapped in each other's arms as he rained little love kisses on my cheeks, on my nose and on my lips. "I don't think either of us has to ask . . ."

I started to giggle, then abruptly stopped as I felt myself expelling his still prominent manhood. I wanted this moment to last forever, except he was heavy. "Let's roll over," I whispered.

Then remembering what he had started to say, I added, "Jack, in all seriousness, I want you to know one thing. I've never been so thoroughly fucked in my entire life!"

"You're not so bad, yourself," he replied, kissing the tip of my nose.

Only later, as I was wrestling with an uneasy conscience while settling down to sleep for what little was left of the night after sending a sleepy baby sitter home, did a phrase I had seen in a magazine pop into my mind. "The Happy Hooker." It described me perfectly.

I never saw Jack again, but my next pay envelope contained, in addition to my now augmented check, three crisp $100 bills clipped together with a brief note: "Balance due."  



My Loving Family Ch. 06



Synopsis: Sarah is recruited by her boss to serve both as a receptionist and as the company "entertainer" or, as she expressed it, "the company whore." Her first "date" with the man she had met on the train was very successful.

Part II -- Sarah's Story

Chapter Six

Three months went by before Mr. Bose again summoned me to his office. "A Mr. Anderson may call this evening asking if you'd join him for dinner. Here's another $400 to cover your overhead. Take the rest of the day off."

Just like that. As I turned away from his desk, he stopped me. "I didn't mean to be rude, Miss Kincaide. It's just that I have other things on my mind at the moment, and you should know that Mr. Anderson will play a central role in a very important project. Be nice to him."

Back to the beauty salon and then to my friend in the dress shop. She remembered me and inquired about my date. I reported that the dress she had helped me select had led to a very hot evening. 

She smiled. "What are you looking for today?"

"Something a little more sedate; the sort of thing I could wear to the office; something a bit daring, but only a little."

She rummaged for a moment through a nearby rack. I noticed it was a rack of size sixes. "I'm an eight," I reminded her.

Ignoring me, she held up a darling little dress in what looked like crushed velvet. It was a dark green with gold flecks. "Something like this? I think this would be super with your coloring."

I nodded, and carried the dress into a dressing room. Oh, oh! She was right about the color. It had a very flattering bust line and seemed appropriate for the office, except that it was way, way too short.

I almost changed back into my street clothes, but decided to show the clerk how it fit and how very short the skirt was. Instead of shaking her head, however, the clerk gave me a wide grin and clapped her hands. "Perfect! First try and we have a winner!"

"I couldn't possibly wear a dress as short as this one."

"Why not? That's the style these days. If you think this dress is short, you should see some of the junior styles. Even I wouldn't wear some of them. But this one is perfect for you. Not every woman your age could wear it, but you have the figure and legs for it."

"Not every woman my age? Just how old do you think I am?"

The clerk blushed, and stammered, "Ahh, I didn't mean it the way it sounded . . ." she began, but seeing how discomfited she was, I decided to let her off the hook. "I'm only 25," I said.

"Yes, well, I was still thinking about the juniors, I guess. I'm sorry I misspoke. Forgive me?" She smiled appealingly.

"Of course," I said. "You're sure this dress isn't too short?"

"It's fine," she said earnestly. "Trust me; it's my business to know fashion and style, and I certainly would do nothing to embarrass a repeat customer."

That 'repeat customer' business convinced me. "OK, I'll buy it. what about accessories?" "Well, you'll want to see Frank again for a pair of shoes. Just remember that while the first dress you bought emphasized your bust, this dress features your legs. When you're talking to Frank, show him the material and lift your skirt to approximately the same height as the one on this dress so he can help you chose the most flattering shoes."

I returned to my silent apartment shortly after five. Then I went to my babysitter's apartment and collected Nonnie. I also asked Sherrill if she would be available that evening to babysit.

All the while, of course, and especially while I was relaxing in a bubble bath (with the phone within easy reach), I reflected on my new assignment. I had known what to expect with Jack, of course, but this Mr. Anderson was only a name. As I speculated about the evening ahead, again it occurred to me that I was well on my way to becoming a one-girl escort service.

I was trying to decide how I felt about that when the phone suddenly rang. It startled me. The noise seemed especially loud in the confines of my tiny bathroom. I let it ring twice before I picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Is this Miss Kincaide?"

"Yes"

"You don't know me, but my name is Paul Anderson. I'm at loose ends here in Winnipeg, but a friend gave me your number and suggested I call and see if you would be agreeable to having dinner with me."

Should I be coy and ask the name of his friend? I was sure a professional escort would, but did I want to sound like a professional? On the other hand, I didn't want to sound simple, either. "Could you tell me, Mr. Anderson, who gave you my number?"

"I don't want to mention names, but he's a partner in a local investment company. He said you'd know who it was."

"What did you have in mind, Mr. Anderson?"

"I thought perhaps we could meet downtown at Brown's. I've never been there, but the concierge here in the hotel recommended it. He said he thinks I can still get reservations since this is a week night. Will you join me? We could meet in the cocktail lounge, say around 7:30? I promise I don't bite!"

"How will I recognize you?"

"I'm a big guy with blonde hair. I'll be wearing a red tie, and I'll be on the lookout for a beautiful woman standing uncertainly at the entrance to the lounge."

"All right, 7:30 it is." 

Although I had gone on the pill after my date with Jack, I still slipped a few condoms into my bag while giving last minute instructions to Sherrill. A girl can't be too careful.

Paul Anderson turned out to be an amiable dinner companion. He was an older man -- when I saw him in a stronger light, he appeared to have at least as much gray as yellow in his hair. As he had said, he was a big man. If I had to guess, I might have thought he had been a college athlete now gone somewhat to seed. 

He was, however, a more than satisfactory lover, although we didn't reach the heights of passion I had shared with Jack or, earlier, with Graham. When I say more than satisfactory, I still had little to compare him with, but he was gentle and loving, and genuinely concerned that he not hurt me. But I'm getting ahead of my story.

After a truly delicious dinner in a restaurant where my menu was innocent of a price schedule, he asked if I'd like to go dancing "to work the dinner off," as he expressed it. After I nodded my accent, he flagged a cab, and we rode back to his hotel.


It was difficult to control the hem of my short skirt as we sat in the cab, but somehow I felt reassured when he leaned over and whispered, "I think you have the most beautiful legs I've ever seen; why struggle to keep them covered? Relax, you're among friends."

Later, in the hotel ballroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in a hall mirror and silently thanked the girl in the dress shop. My legs did look damned good! We each had a couple of drinks and danced for perhaps a half hour, when Paul -- we had gotten on a first name basis almost from the beginning -- casually asked, "Would you like to go upstairs?"

I wish I could have responded with something off hand like "To see your etchings?" Instead, I merely smiled and nodded. He led the way to the elevators and ushered me into a car. This was nothing like my earlier elevator ride with Jack. His overt display of passion amounted to nothing more than simply holding my hand until we were inside his room. Then he lifted my hand, and in a supremely erotic gesture, licked my palm.

I felt that familiar tingle in my vulva, and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his head down so I could show him an erotic trick or two, myself. 

However, he straightened up. "Let's sit in the easy chair," he suggested, leading me to the corner. He sat and pulled me down on his lap. I felt like a little girl at first, but when I felt his hand under my skirt on my bare thigh, I sat up and began to undo his tie.

We slowly undressed each other, caressing and kissing each bit of newly revealed skin until it was time to get naked. I stood and allowed my dress to fall from my shoulders, carefully stepping out of it and draping it over a chair. While I was releasing my bra, he had his shoes off, and was stepping out of his trousers which he neatly laid over the back of the same chair.

Then as I slid my thong down over my hips, he pulled his briefs down. Although he was only partly erected, his penis seemed huge! I certainly had never seen one that large before, and I couldn't imagine being able to accommodate it! 

He held his arms out and I gladly hugged myself tightly to his nearly hairless body. "Don't worry, darling," he said, "I won't hurt you. Sit down in the chair."

This was a new one. He stood before me, then parted my knees, sank to his knees between mine, and leaned forward. Another first! I knew what he intended to do, but I had never experienced cunnilingus. When the tip of his tongue touched the seam between my thighs, I thought I might explode!

He was an artist. He brought me to the very edge of orgasm a dozen times, each time with a building intensity, then backed away. Finally, when I could take no more, when sparks were flying in all directions, when all I could think of was the aching void between my thighs, he slid back to the bed and laid on his back.

His erection was huge, but I was so desperate for the solace I knew it would bring that I recklessly straddled his body, crouching almost over his chest as I lifted it and placed it at the entrance to my vagina. Then I pressed back against it, literally skewered myself, a fraction of an inch at a time, then pulling forward and back again, a little further each time until at last I sat upright on his groin, his mammoth penis -- I'm sure it was the size of a three-cell flashlight -- buried deep inside me.

After waiting for a few moments, savoring the incredibly full feeling I had, I began to move. Slowly at first, but with increasing enthusiasm, I raised and lowered myself on his enormous erection. He began raising himself to meet my downward plunge, and suddenly a haze settled over my eyes and I nearly lost consciousness. Then I felt his strong arms holding me in an upright position as he continued moving within me. That familiar tidal wave washed over me again and again and again.

He gripped my hips and thrust himself up once again, this time holding me still. I felt his urethra contract and then his whole penis seemed to come alive convulsing and spasming as he bathed my insides with his hot seed.

I was a wreck. I was utterly, completely satiated, and limp as a cooked noodle. After resting on his chest for a time while he gently stroked my hair and sweaty back, he said, "Let me draw you a bath. I promise, you'll feel better. I felt fine, but I just couldn't seem to find the energy to move.  Paul gently rolled us to our sides and I felt his softening penis begin to slide out of me. "Oh, no," I said as I tried to recapture it with the muscles in my labia. But I was too late. As it came out, our broken connection made a curious sucking sound. 

After my bath and a halfhearted effort to do something with my hair, I dressed and Paul led me down to the lobby and on to the taxi stand. "Can I call you the next time I'm in Winnipeg?" "Oh, yes! Please do," I said eagerly. "Thank you for a wonderful evening -- all of it." **********

I don't mean to bore you with a blow by blow recital of the clients I "entertained" for Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons over the years, but I got quite good at it. In fact, to be honest, I found I was enjoying it, an appetite that would cause difficulties later. 

At first, Mr. Bose put me in a small office near his where my principle duty was to respond to his buzzer with a sheaf of papers. He insisted that I wear hose and very short skirts. The bras I chose were cut out over my nipples, leaving them bare under my dress.

Whenever he buzzed, I knew he wanted to show me off to a client, so I made a production of leaning over his desk so his visitor would see my skirt rise to expose the backs of my thighs all the way up to the dark band at the top of my hose. This didn't happen often; perhaps on average, only once or twice a month. But when it did, I always felt the heat of sudden arousal when I heard the buzzer. I would pinch my nipples before entering Mr. Bose's office so they were prominently displayed through my dress. If the client looked interesting, I sometimes leaned even further, making sure a tiny strip of bare skin above my hose was visible. I'm certain the other partners knew what was going on; our office wasn't that large. Mr. Bose finally promoted me to the personnel office, but I continued to serve as the company whore. And then Willie called.

I had wondered how she had fared with Nels after returning to the farm, but I hardly expected to hear from her again so soon. "Sarah, I've just got to get out of here before Nels finds that I'm gone. The train's going to leave for Winnipeg in less than an hour. I don't have any money. Is there any way you can arrange for tickets for me and my daughter from your end?"

I was more shocked by the desperation in Willa's voice than her message. "Certainly, dear," I had said. "Consider it done. The tickets should be there in ten minutes." I quickly hung up and called the CNR ticket office, explaining the urgency for the tickets and giving them a credit card number.

The following morning, Willie called again, this time from the local train station. I told her to wait; that I would come get her, and I did. I'm sure her daughter, Ruthie, was surprised to see her mother greet another woman like a long lost lover because, indifferent to the curious stares of others standing nearby, we happily hugged one another and exchanged lover's kisses. Then we collected their meager baggage, and I led the way to my car in the parking lot. 

Willa sat next to me as I drove to my apartment. She was exhibiting an array of emotions from gratitude to something very close to shame. Consequently, little of what she had to say made much sense.

Once inside my apartment, I showed Ruthie to Nonnie's room so she could watch TV while her mother and I sat in the living room sharing a bottle of wine as she unburdened herself.

Naturally, I was very curious about the obvious urgency of her visit, so I moved next to her on the couch with my arm around her as she told me, between sobs and gasps, how Nels had raped her, and how she had run away.

"You're here, now, dear. You're safe. He can't hurt you again, but you can make things very serious for him!"

Willa shook her head. "If I have him put in jail, what have I gained? My son chose to stay with him, but the boys and I alone cannot operate that farm. I'll just have to get even some other way." 

I was relieved to see a small smile cross her face, and rewarded her with a tender kiss.

"I'll have to find a place for us," Willa said.

"Nonsense. You have a place right here."

"Oh, no. We couldn't impose."

"I can't imagine why you'd think this was an imposition. I'll have to find another bed for Ruthie, but there is plenty of room for her in Nonnie's room. But to keep up appearances, we might have to begin looking for a bigger apartment."

I watched her closely to gauge her reaction to the possibility that we might sleep together. She sighed as a child might, and seemed to relax even more in my arms. I had my answer, and bent to give her a soft kiss.

That afternoon, after Nonnie came home from school, she seemed pleased to learn that she had a new little sister, although there were only three years between them. I had gone out to a surplus store and picked up a folding cot and mattress for Ruthie. After supper, the girls disappeared into their room and I was happy to hear occasional giggles and exclamations of surprise and wonder as they exchanged teenage confidences and secrets. That night was also a special occasion for we two adults. I made up a bed for Willa on the couch, mostly for appearance's sake, and then, after another bottle of wine to relax us both, we retired to my room.

Once inside the door, I gathered Willa in my arms, holding her tight as I teased the corners of her mouth with the tip of my tongue. Her mouth gradually opened, allowing me to explore the inside of her mouth and for only the second time, taste the sweet flavors of her mouth.

While I held her, I allowed one hand to cup her tight little ass and bring her mons into even closer contact with my own, rubbing myself against her. She responded by touching my breast.

She was surprised to discover that my bra had been altered so only my thin blouse covered my nipple, but she was quick to begin teasing it by pinching and twisting it, then stretching it.

Every time she touched it, I felt a tiny electrical jolt in my vulva which was beginning to itch. I reached behind her and unhooked the top of her dress zipper, which I slowly lowered. When I reached her bra strap, I unhooked it and then continued to lower the zipper all the way to her hips. She hunched her shoulders forward, and her dress and bra fell simultaneously to puddle around her ankles.

I had seen her breasts a few days earlier, but the rest of her figure had been concealed by the ill fitting dress she had worn. Now it was revealed, and it was stunning! As I said earlier, her breasts were larger than mine, and somewhat more pendulous, and her hips a trifle wider, but her abdomen and thighs more than made up for it. I felt weak in the knees as I watched her lower her pantyhose and her curly blond pubic hair was revealed.

I realize, now, that the instant love that flowed between us was a special thing. Frankly, I was mildly surprised by the degree of attraction I felt toward Willa, and it seems not unlikely that she was similarly unprepared for the intensity of feeling that characterized our relationship almost from the beginning.

Guided by instinct rather than experience -- which neither of us had -- we began by holding one another closely, reveling in the sensuous feel of silky warm skin and soft curves pulsing against our own. Our wet lips and questing tongues hungrily explored each others mouths, tasting, probing, caressing, while our hands slid easily and wonderously over each other's backs, sides, bottoms, and after drawing slightly apart, our breasts, nipples, and mons veneris.

Ours was a love dance as old as time, yet for us, as new as the morning. I thrilled when I tested the resiliency of a different breast and hard, engorged nipples for the first time by cupping Willa's soft breast. Intense longings accompanied by tiny sparks of electricity began radiating from my vulva when I felt her hot tongue bathe my breast, and her lips capture my equally engorged nipple.

Then I slid my hand into her delta, through her moist curly bush and began to explore her folds with my extended middle finger while she did the same for me. I rolled away from her on my back and spread my thighs. The next thing I knew, she bestowed a hot, wet kiss on my mons, and began exploring it with her tongue.

"Two can play at that game," I said eagerly, "come here!"

So it went for at least an hour. I enjoyed two shattering orgasms -- not as intense, perhaps, as those I had experienced with Jack, but wonderfully enervating nevertheless. 

Willa seemed to melt after her climax, and began to sob.

I held her, soothing and loving her little body until she quieted. Then she told me why she thought Nels had raped her. "I think he was hoping to make me pregnant so he could take over the farm," she said, shuddering slightly. I held her tightly against me as if to protect her forever from the Nels of this world, and we fell asleep that way. Our daughters found us the next morning, still wrapped in each other's arms.

Well, so much for keeping up appearances! We did, however, need a larger apartment because Nonnie, by this time, was 15 and needed the privacy of her own room. Consequently, we moved about six weeks later.




My Loving Family Ch. 06



I wouldn't mention it except that Willa found my "party" dresses while we were packing -- my wardrobe had expanded considerably since those early experiences with the firm clients (I'm tempted to make a bad pun by adding, 'I'll say they were firm!') I've already described -- so I explained my personal situation to her as tactfully as possible. 

I wasn't sure what her reaction might be, but I didn't expect her to come right out and ask if it was fun and whether I thought she might fit into the program "in case a couple of clients wanted to double date."

Frankly, I didn't know what to say. That possibility had been raised twice before -- Mr. Bose had asked me if I could find another girl who would like to "party" and I had immediately thought of Dolly -- the pretty sales clerk who had helped me select my first "party" wardrobe.

As it happened, when I had approached Dolly, and explained the situation, she confessed what may be a fairly common fantasy -- that of being paid for "it". She was quite willing to earn an easy $500 doing what she enjoyed as long as her husband didn't find out -- I hadn't realized she was married, or I wouldn't have approached her -- but she turned out to be one of those people who can't handle liquor. She managed to get sloppy drunk.

She had come to my apartment directly from work (I have no idea how she explained her absence to her husband) with a "borrowed" dress from her shop. We had taken turns bathing and preparing ourselves for our "dates." The plan was that we would both return to my apartment so she could change back into her regular clothes before returning home.

If I had thought the first dress or two she had helped me select were immodest, then the selection she made for herself was downright scandalous. The pale pink dress itself was moderately daring when worn properly, but the smooth silken sheath she had chosen was not intended to be worn over a body of her dimensions that was entirely nude.

The top of the dress was loose enough so that her every movement, every motion, caused her hard nipples to dance enticingly across the front of her dress, emphasizing the sway of her heavy breasts. At the waist, however, the material was gathered so tightly that the garment might as well have been painted over her bottom and lower abdomen, including her thighs and prominent mons. In fact, her mons seemed to thrust forward to aggressively that I wondered if she had somehow managed to pad it!

Our dates had arrived on time. As usual, we enjoyed a delightful dinner (although I privately wondered how she could possibly consume anything without tearing a seam in her dress), but she and Doug, her date for the evening, seemed to enjoy playing with each other as much as they enjoyed the food.

I noticed, however, that every time Dolly's wine glass was replenished, her laughter seemed a bit more boisterous, and her hands seemed even busier under the table in Doug's lap.

Just before we left the restaurant, she and I had excused ourselves to go to the ladies' for our final adjustments. I watched her in the mirror as I was refreshing my lipstick while she reached up under her dress and extracted a wisp of lace which she wadded in her hand. 

Then when we returned to the table where the men were waiting for us, she walked up to Doug and held her clenched hand up to his nose. "Smell this. See the effect you have on me? Give me your hand." He extended his open hand and she gave him her wet panties. We went straight back to their hotel. As Jack had done with me years earlier, Doug began to lower the zipper holding her dress closed while she brazenly fondled the lump in his trousers, even though we were not alone in the elevator. 

As soon as the elevator door closed behind us, Doug lowered the zipper all the way, and suddenly Dolly was naked in the hall. While I stooped to retrieve her dress, she fell to her knees in front of Doug almost instantly and began unzipping his trousers.

Doug was as embarrassed were Robert and I. He quickly pulled her to her feet. "Not here!" he said sharply.

"I was jes gettin' started." she slurred. "Wouldn't it be fun to fuck here in the hall? I'd like that! Let's do it!"

Doug impatiently took one arm while I took the other, and we half dragged, half carried Dolly to our room. After that little display in the hall, everything that followed seemed almost anticlimactic.

Robert and I enjoyed a quiet hour together in the bedroom while Doug and Dolly noisily and energetically screwed each other on the floor, bent over the furniture, and in other ways I could only imagine, but all was quiet when we returned to the living room. 

The problem was that the mini bar was all too available. The door to the little refrigerator was open, but Dolly was out cold, lying on the couch, legs spread, with their combined juices flowing out of her vagina, staining the furniture. Doug was watching her. "What do we do now?"

It would have been all but impossible to try to dress her in the clothes she had worn, and even if we had been successful, it was too much of a stretch to imagine dragging her through the lobby, so we decided to let her sleep it off where she was. I don't know what she may have told her husband later, but I'll bet it was ingenious. When I reported to Mr. Bose what had happened, he seemed to agree that the risk of getting others involved in what was, after all, merely an expression of company goodwill toward a handful of important clients, was more than the company wanted to assume. 

However, when I now reported to Mr. Bose that Mr. Ender's widow was interested in joining me as another company "entertainer," he nodded thoughtfully said he'd think about it.

Evidently, he didn't think very long because scarcely a week had gone by before I received a familiar buz from his office. It was a bit dicey because I was interviewing a young man seeking an accountant's position we had advertised. I told him I had to interrupt the interview for a few minutes and asked him to wait in the outer office. As soon as the door closed behind him, I quickly changed out of my office dress into the much more revealing tart dress I kept in the coat closet, made sure my seams were straight and added a bit more lipstick before seizing the file folder I used, and hurried past our surprised accountant candidate down the hall to Mr. Bose's office where I performed the same charade before a couple of new clients that I had done dozens of times earlier to cause them to begin salivating. One of those clients, Peter J. Crockett, was to become my husband. 

(To be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 07



Synposis: Sarah and Willa decide to live together. Sarah tells Willa about her "extra" job assignments, and Willa asks if she can join in the fun. In the last scene, Sarah was summoned to Mr. Bose's office to perform. One of the men she shows off for will become her husband.

Part III - I'm Peter. This Is My Story

Chapter Seven

Compared to the stories you've already read here, mine is uneventful, almost boring, except for my early childhood, because I was raised by hippies. My daddy was a Yank who had run away to Canada in '65 to avoid the American draft. 

My mum was a true flower child -- her father was an English teacher in a small college in northern Alberta. Mum used to say he was a remittance man from a well known family close to the Crown, which explained why her maiden name was Evening Star from her mother's side because her father was already married at the time. Her mother had been a student; a young and some might say very naive, Athabascan girl from the Northwest Territories.

However colorful my antecedents might have been, they were nothing compared to the life I found with Sarah. I vividly remember our first meeting in Winnipeg. I was only a rough and ready prospector at the time. Jack Whittier and I had stumbled over a molybdenite deposit while prospecting for gold on the southern shore of Great Slave Lake.

Actually, when we first saw the silvery streaks, we thought it might be silver, but the Assay Office in Yellowknife quickly set us straight. Meanwhile, Jack and I had staked practically the whole hillside. Then a government geologist came to the site. After nearly two hard weeks of digging test holes and breaking ore samples open, he gave us a preliminary report. We had a potentially valuable mining prospect.

Now we needed money to develop the property. Consequently, Jack and I found ourselves sitting nervously in Mr. Bose's office when the door opened and a sexy secretary about my age came into the room. She walked past us, trailing a scent that reminded me how long it had been since I last held a naked woman in my arms. But that was nothing to what I felt as I watched her lean over Mr. Bose's desk, and the hem of her short skirt accidentally climb above the lacy tops of her stockings, showing me a sliver of bare skin. I knew it was wrong to peek, but I couldn't help myself. I felt my cock stir even as she straightened and turned around, facing us.

The first thing I noticed was her beautiful smile as she looked straight at me. She cocked an eyebrow as if she were reading my mind, and then walked past me. I couldn't help but notice the tantalizing way her breasts swayed under her dress as she walked, and the play of her thigh muscles under her short skirt. With a woman like that around, how did they get any work done? Mr. Bose smiled. "Miss Kincaide often has that effect on our visitors," he said. 

I'm sure he must have been referring to the expression on our faces. There was no way he could have seen the way my cock had responded, but even so, I was embarrassed. "She's very pretty," I ventured.

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Bose replied. "And she has a fun loving disposition to go with it," he added.

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but overcoming my temporary shyness, I asked, "I'm not sure what you mean. . .?"

"Nothing, really," Mr. Bose replied. "It's just that clients sometimes tell me that they invited her to dinner, and that she always seems to have a good time."

"Do you think . . .?"

Jack piped up, "Wait a minute, partner, I saw her first!"

Mr. Bose smiled again. "No need to quarrel; perhaps she has a friend. . . Of course," he added quickly, "I don't know whether she'll accept your invitation, but as the man said, it never hurts to ask . . ."

He looked briefly at his Roledex and scribbled some numbers on a card, which he pushed toward me. "Here's her phone number if you're interested. I know how lonely a strange city can be at night." Then he abruptly changed the subject and we again began discussing the financial aspects involved in opening a new mining property.

Later, back in our room, I must have lifted the phone a half dozen times before I found the courage to dial the number Mr. Bose had given me.

"Hello?"

"Er, ahh . . . is this Miss Kincaide?"

"Speaking"

"My name is Pete Crockett. I saw you in Mr. Bose's office this afternoon . . ."

"Yes, I remember you, Mr. Crockett."

"Well, this is our first time in Winnipeg. I know this is very short notice, but I wondered if you'd have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Why that would be lovely. I'd like that very much."

Jack was making a hideous face and waving his fist in the air. "Oh, ahh, my partner was wondering if maybe you could fix him up with a friend?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Feeling somewhat braver, I asked, "About 8:00 o'clock?"

I could almost sense her nod. "Fine"

"I don't know where you live."

"That's all right, we can meet at the restaurant -- Brown's at 8:00. I'm looking forward to it. I've always been curious about the Northwest Territories."

After hanging up, I thumbed through the phone book looking for Brown's Restaurant. Then I called for an 8:00 o'clock reservation.

We had another brief meeting with Mr. Bose the following morning after he had discussed our proposition with his partners and they had examined the geologist's report. That afternoon we spent wandering around the Exchange District, looking at mining machinery, and impatiently waiting for 8:00 o'clock. We accidentally found Brown's. It was on a side street with a colorful view of the Forks where the Assiniboine joins the Red River.

Shortly before 8:00, dressed in my best (only) suit, (Jack didn't have a suit) hair combed and shoes shined, we arrived at the restaurant and made ourselves known to the maître d'. Then we retired to a corner of the bar and ordered a couple of drinks.

We had worked out a simple plan by flipping a coin. I had won the toss. If Miss Kincaide arrived alone, Jack would excuse himself after dinner, saying he had work to do. On the other hand, if she had been able to find another girl, we'd just have to see how the evening played out.

"Hello, Mr. Crockett."

I whirled around, almost spilling my drink in the process. It was Sarah and a friend. I couldn't imagine how she managed to get behind me that way. "Miss Kincaide!" I said, momentarily thrown off balance. I had seen a beautiful woman in Mr. Bose's office. But that brief encounter was nothing compared to the vision she and her friend now presented.

She smiled at our obvious surprise and delight. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Willa," she said.

Jack introduced himself to Willa while Miss Kincaide turned back to me. " Please, Mr. Crockett, my name is Sarah."

I'm sure my mouth must have been hanging open, but I managed to respond, saying "And I'm Pete. You're absolutely stunning, by the way. And so's Willa!" You both belong in Playboy!" 

And they did, but Sarah laughed in a self-deprecating way, saying, "Oh, stop it. You're embarrassing us," she said, showing me for the first time the dimple in her left cheek.

The fact was, however, that the over all effect both women presented was enough to stop traffic. Sarah's friend was a busty blonde who exuded sex appeal. Her pretty silvery dress wasn't as short as Sarah's but it was cut very low in front, showing the tops of her plump breasts. I doubted whether she could lean very far forward for fear her breasts might simply fall out of her dress.

Sarah's tight fitting black dress was more modest in front, but it was very short, and if she bent far enough over, I was sure anyone standing behind her would have gotten more of an eyeful than we did in Mr. Bose's office. We were seated. Sarah and Willa plied us with questions about Yellowknife and the Territories in general while we ordered our dinners. Jack was telling them how we had made our strike. "Even though you're looking for gold, it pays to keep your eyes open to other possibilities," he said.

The rest of the meal passed quickly as we told them stories about that fabled corner of the Territories and some of our whacky experiences as optimistic prospectors. I wasn't trying to impress her; I knew better than that. I was just hoping to prolong the evening.

Sarah interrupted my flow. "Do you gentlemen dance?"

"Well, sort of," I said grudgingly.

Willa suddenly blushed, and said, "I hope you'll excuse me, but. . ."

Sarah immediately pushed her chair back, too. "We'll be right back." 

Jack and I looked at each other. "What do you suppose they're cooking up?" he asked.

"We can always hope they're trying to figure out how to separate us," I said hopefully. 

"Yeah, that or they're trying to figure out how to ditch us," Jack replied sourly. "Here they come," he added.

"We know a place where we could have some fun," Sarah said.

I settled the bill, and out on the sidewalk, Jack flagged a taxi.

Sarah gave instructions to the driver, and minutes later, we were standing on the sidewalk in front of a dramatic entrance shaped like the opening into a cave. A neon sign over the doorway confirmed my initial impression because it read, "The Cave."

Inside, we were ushered to a small table in a room that seemed lit mostly by the sputtering candles on each table. Our table was adjacent to a crowded parquet dance floor. Sarah ordered a glass of sherry. Willa shook her head, and asked for water. I ordered whisky-rocks. I don't remember what Jack ordered. Smiling, we four silently toasted each other, Willa making do with her glass of water. Knowing what was expected, I then stood and offered my hand to Sarah.

I may look and act like the roughneck I am, and my mum may have been from the back country, but she knew how important good manners were and drilled them into me so deeply that when, as now, the occasion merits it, I automatically act the part of a gentleman.

Therefore, I was surprised when, after holding Sarah in a formal way, her right hand extended to the side while I guided her with my right, and we successfully shuffled once around the dance floor, she wrapped both arms around my neck and pressed her sensuous body tightly against mine. "Hold me closer," she whispered in my ear. "I like to feel the man I'm dancing with."

I glanced back toward our table and saw Willa and Jack, heads close together, having what looked like a serious discussion. The next time I looked, they had left the table and I smiled, thinking how hard she must have argued to get Jack out on the dance floor. But I quickly forgot them, because my senses were literally being bombarded. 

I'm not at all sure what it was, but a mixed aroma of something faintly sweet on top of a pungent, musky scent filled my nostrils, while I was keenly aware of her breasts pressed against my chest and her thigh which sometimes seemed to linger between my legs, and the feel of her breath on my neck as she rested her head on my shoulder. I couldn't help it.

I felt my cock twitch and tingle in response to her closeness, and especially when her thigh accidentally touched it. Frankly, as my cock stiffened, I became very embarrassed. I attempted to conceal it from her by holding myself away, but she persisted. 

Finally, when I'm sure I must have presented a comical picture by dancing like a contortionist, she kissed the side of my neck, and whispered, "I don't mind. I take it as a compliment when a man becomes aroused by dancing closely with me. Let me feel it."

She deliberately arched her back, rubbing her pelvis against mine. I'll swear my cock grew another two inches, but I was beginning to sweat, so she suggested we sit the next set out. Back at our table, we ordered another round. Then I excused myself. I had to. My cock was making a very obvious tent in the front of my pants, and I thought if I could take a leak, that embarrassing lump would disappear.

I went first to the sink to chill my hand under cold running water, Then I'll bet I stood over that urinal for a good five minutes trying to force a urine stream to begin. Other men came into the restroom, relieved themselves, washed their hands and left while I stood there willing my erection to subside.

A few drops finally appeared. Those drops became a drizzle, which gradually strengthened, to my enormous relief, into a regular urine flow. At the same time, I felt my erection disappear. But when I returned to our table, it was empty!

I assumed Jack and Willa were still out on the dance floor, but where was Sarah? When I began to sit down, I realized she had left her clutch bag on the seat of my chair, hidden under the table cloth. I'm not an expert on women and their habits -- and I knew much less then than I do now -- but I knew she was as likely to leave an arm behind as her purse. 

She hadn't gone to the ladies, since her purse contained stuff she'd probably need, so I began to scan the dancers. She almost had to be dancing.

And she was. When I saw her in the arms of a big guy, who seemed to dwarf her, I was surprised by the odd sequence of emotions that stirred within. At first, of course, I felt a sense of relief. But then, when I saw that she was apparently giving her partner the same full body press she had given me -- her arms were looped around her partner's neck and she was resting her head on his chest -- a jealous pang sent a darting pain through my midsection, but almost immediately, that was replaced by a sense of wonder.

While we had been dancing, I had tended to concentrate on my own feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment. Now, however, even as I studied the way the short skirt of her form fitting black cocktail dress was pulled up as she pressed herself against her new partner, her beautiful legs -- the same legs I had seen earlier in Mr. Bose's office -- were again exposed all the way to the tops of her dark hose, giving the onlooker an occasional daring flash of white skin.

But then as I studied her svelte body, I realized that instead of holding her close with his arms around her waist, her new partner had both hands on her ass, and was practically dry humping her on the dance floor! Another pang of jealousy darted through my body, especially when I saw how enthusiastically she was rubbing herself against her partner. 

I tossed off my drink and signaled the waitress for another. The distraction caused by the waitress's arrival provided a needed interlude, so by the time I returned my wallet to my pocket, I was able to watch dispassionately until the end of the set when her new partner walked her back toward our table. 

He turned abruptly away even as I was rising to welcome Sarah back. She flashed me an impish smile. "He was just a little too eager," she said. "I prefer men who take their time, who see me as a person instead of a piece of ass."

I must have blinked or otherwise betrayed my surprise by her directness and choice of language, yet at the same time, I appreciated her candor, because I was still very much a country boy, and I liked knowing where I stood. "Where are Jack and Willa?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "She left a note on my purse that they were leaving; that's all I know."

We danced another set, but then she looked at her watch. "My goodness. It's getting late," she said. "Perhaps it's time to call it a night."

I knew she was right, but God, how I wanted this evening to last forever. We paused in the club foyer to reclaim her wrap and then stepped out on the sidewalk. "How long will you be in town?" Sarah asked.

"It depends on how long it takes your boss to gain the approval of his partners, and then find the financing," I replied. "I'd guess another day or two."

"Will I see you again?"

"Can I?"

"I'm open tomorrow evening," Sarah murmured in her customary way. "How'd you like to have dinner in my apartment?"

"I'd love it! But I don't want to put you out . . ."

Sarah smiled as she opened her bag and handed me a card. "This is my address and telephone number," she said. "Shall we say around 7:30 - 8:00 o'clock?"

Astonished by my good fortune, I could only nod.

"Be a dear and flag a cab for me."

Just then a cruising cab rounded the corner. I held up my arm. The cab stopped. Just before stepping into the cab, Sarah put her arms around me and kissed me softly on my lips. Then she disappeared into the cab. I closed the door, and she was gone. 

I was left standing on the sidewalk touching my lips with my tongue, savoring the moment, and trying to sort out a sudden rush of strange emotions. Emotions I hadn't experienced in a very long time.

(To be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 08



Synopsis: We now meet Pete Crockett, whose story this is. Pete is a prospector from the Northwest Territory who meets Sarah in Mr. Bose's office. After his first date with her, he discovers unusual feelings.

Part III My Story

Chapter Eight

You see, I was once married to a girl I thought I loved very much, and perhaps I did because when she left with a long distance truck driver, I was left with a broken heart. I mean literally. 

I suppose I should have realized something was going on because of unexplained absences, and occasional overnight trips out of town to visit "relatives," or the one time I had come home early and found her wearing lingerie I didn't recognize only partly covered as she struggled to straighten her clothes, but I ignored it as well as her mussed hair and smeared lipstick, partly out of youthful arrogance, but truth be told, mostly out of fear of losing her. I dove straight into a bottle, and for six months managed to stay drunk most of the time. I sobered up only after the constable carried me off to the lock-up where I spent a miserable two weeks in the company of some Indians in the same condition, and the town bum.

The second time I was locked up, it was the result of a fight I had gotten into with some Mexican field hands. I was with a different set of Indians but the town bum was just finishing his sentence and was due to be released in two days. I'll never forget him.

"Listen, kid," he had said, his dark eyes looking straight into my soul while I contemplated his wasted features, "I seen you in here before. No woman is worth killing yourself over. And the next time you get into a scrap with them Dagos, one of 'em will put a knife in your ribs! I know what I'm talking about!" He pulled the tail of his shirt out of his pants and raised it, revealing a jagged, sunken scar about four inches long running diagonally along the bottom of his rib cage. "Lucky for me, all he had was a razor. If he'd had a real knife, he's have sliced my liver in half!"

I dreamed about that scar off and on for weeks afterward. But it was the man himself who turned my head around. Feeling his eyes penetrate me was like peering into the deepest pits of Hell. The second time I was released, I found a job as a helper in a carpenter shop. Business was good, and eventually the boss hired another young fellow. That's how I met my partner, Jack Whittier.

Since we were both bachelors, we began spending some of our free time together, hiking and exploring the nearby hills. Jack's great uncle was one of the few lucky prospectors who had found "color" in what was to become the Yellowknife District which, after the Klondike, became one of the major gold producing areas in Canadian history.

Jack was enrolled in a general course on mining geology with special emphasis on precious metals. It was sponsored by the Yellowknife Chamber of Commerce as a way of attracting (luring might be a better word) young men into a prospector's life. They saw it as simply good business to recruit young men to search further and further afield for gold, in what was generally recognized as one of the most mineralized areas of the country, at no cost to the company.

Jack had the fever which proved contagious because I also began carrying a rock hammer whenever we went for a tramp in the woods. We knew, of course, that the ground for miles around the first strike had been thoroughly examined by scores of young men as well as seasoned prospectors. 

Then, ten years ago, we decided to get serious. Although we both were earning journeyman carpenter wages, we quit and decided to prospect in a different, but geologically related corner of the Great Slave Lake. We were looking for gold, so we tended to stick to stream beds. However, we'd occasionally find an interesting outcropping or other indication of a mineral formation. When we did, Jack always noted it in his field diary.

That was how we discovered the molybdenite prospect. We had passed it over two years earlier, but having found no "color," we decided to retrace our steps. Now it looked like we really had something.

I don't know what time Jack came in because I was sound asleep. I knew things had gone well with them, however, because when I had come to our room the previous night, the bed Jack slept in was badly rumpled. The next morning, he was all smiles and all during breakfast all he could talk about was Willa. Although he never said anything directly about it, it wasn't at all necessary.

However, when we returned to Mr. Bose's office, a message was waiting for us. It seems one of his mining school classmates had seen or heard something that led him to think somebody was planning to jump our claim. We hadn't proved up on it yet, and had even talked about him staying behind to guard it while I took care of our business with Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons.

After a quick telephone call, he left immediately for the train station, not even taking time to stop at the hotel to pack or check out. As it was, he barely caught the train.

And I was in love again. In love with a woman I had seen only twice, and one unfortunately who seemed to share Amy's trait; an abiding interest in other men, if her performance with the big stranger the previous night was any indicator. For a time, I almost decided to cancel my dinner invitation. I couldn't bear the thought of repeating the hell I had gone through with Amy. But neither could I force myself to cancel the dinner.

Promptly at 7:45 the following evening, I tucked the bottle of wine under my arm to free a hand so I could press the doorbell button. Almost immediately, the door opened. Sarah was wearing a long translucent gown in a pale green shade that highlighted her beautiful brown eyes and elaborately arranged auburn hair. She wore matching undergarments that seemed designed to attract attention rather than conceal her most intimate parts.

Like a fool, I held out a bouquet of roses in one hand, and a bottle of merlot in the other. Possibly mistaking my intent, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her body against mine while her open, working lips seemed to suck my lips into her hot, moist mouth.

Naturally, my unruly cock responded almost immediately to her erotic welcome. She felt it stir, and responded by deliberately bumping it with her pelvis.

Then she released me and accepted the flowers and wine with a gracious smile. "Let's get out of the hallway." I followed her into her apartment and was almost immediately surprised by how large it was. She must have sensed what was passing through my mind because she explained, "I share this apartment with Willa, so we needed three bedrooms."

Three bedrooms?

Seeing the question on my face, she quickly added, "The third bedroom is for our two daughters -- my Nonnie and her Ruth. Nonnie is 15 going on 25, while Ruthie is 13. Believe me, they're a handful!"

This woman was full of surprises. Had anyone asked me, the way she was dressed, I would have sworn Sarah was no older than about 25. However, it seemed unlikely that she would have had her daughter when she was 10 years old.

Correctly reading the expression on my face, she smiled and with characteristic directness, said, "That's the nicest compliment I've received all day! I'm an old hag of 35."

I couldn't believe it. She was only two years younger than me, but if one could overlook the sweet curve of her bosom and the womanly flare of her hips, she could easily have passed for my daughter. Her face and hands were as smooth as a child's.

She invited me into their living room and left me while she went into the kitchen, presumably to attend to our dinner. The quiet tones of a familiar classic provided soothing background music. She quickly returned with a wine glass in one hand and a highball in the other. "I hope I chose the right one," she said, handing me the highball. 

The glass contained a double shot of the smoothest single malt Scotch whisky I had ever tasted. "Nectar," I said. "This is best single malt I've ever tasted!"

"I'm glad," she said, folding a leg under her as she sat on the couch, facing me. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Meanwhile, Tell me all about Pete Crockett."

I quickly summarized my background and career as a prospector. Then she said, "I'll bet it's ready. Come into the kitchen with me so you can open the wine."

I dutifully followed her into the kitchen and was immediately struck by the delicious spicy smell of homemade spaghetti sauce. "The bottle opener is in that drawer," she said, pointing to a drawer behind me. "Let's have that merlot you brought with dinner."

She was busy tossing a salad while she spoke. I was enchanted as I watched her moving from task to task around the kitchen, smoothly and efficiently bringing things together. "I hope you won't mind, Pete, if I just dish up our food here at the stove? Serving dishes are such an unnecessary bother."

Then, after we were seated at the table, she said, "Well, now that you seem about to come into money, what do you propose to do? What would you like to do?"

"I suppose get married and settle down -- but there's one thing I'd really like to do, although I know it sounds silly, coming from an old roughneck like me."

She waited expectantly, while I tried to think of a rational way of explaining. "I like to draw," I blurted. "I've been doing it all my life -- but recently, I've begun to wonder what working with color would be like."

"Are you any good at it?"

"People seem to think so," I said modestly. Actually, I knew I was damned good. "Here. Let me show you. Do you have a sheet of paper handy?"

"Let's wait until supper's over," she said, smiling at my boyish impetuosity.

Changing the subject, I congratulated her on her cooking. "A home cooked meal is a real treat for me," I said, adding, "especially one as delicious as this cooked by such a beautiful woman."

"Why, thank you kind sir," Sarah responded. Despite her flippant tone, I thought I had seen new color in her cheeks when I had complimented her. I was sure of it when she added, in a quieter, almost somber way, "I meant this to be special, Pete."

We finished our meal in silence, each of us busy with our private thoughts. After supper, still pensive, we jointly cleaned up the kitchen and returned to the living room.

She changed to another musical selection, and returned to the couch where I was sitting, this time with a sheet of typewriter paper in her hand. "Is this OK?"

I picked up a magazine that was lying on the coffee table to use as a drawing surface. "What are you going to draw?"

"You," I said. "Please sit down like you were before." I took my old fashioned fountain pen and quickly began to sketch Sarah. In less than five minutes, I was satisfied and silently handed the sketch to her.

"My God!" she exclaimed while she stood. "This really is me! How did you do that so fast?" Not giving me a chance to respond, she leaned over and gave me another warm kiss.

"Now it's your turn," I said. My voice had deepened. Having had a chance to demonstrate my ability as an artist, I felt on more solid ground. "Tell me about you."

She matter-of-factly told me the circumstances of Nonnie's birth and of the cruel way her lover had abandoned her. Then she briefly gave me, as I later discovered, a highly edited version of her career with Bose, Rothchild, and Gibbons. "And here we are," she concluded. 

Since she had been so open about the circumstances surrounding Nonnie's entry into this world, I felt compelled to share some of the pain and -- it hurt to admit it, but it was true -- shame I felt about the way Amy had run away. She listened intently, interrupting only to ask occasional questions.

I was so absorbed in reliving the most painful chapter of my life that I failed at first to realize she had reached out and was covering my hand with one of hers.

"It still troubles you, doesn't it?"

I nodded.

"And you blame yourself, don't you?"

I nodded again. "If I had been more attentive, if . . ."

Sarah frowned. "Don't play the 'if' game because it's a game you can't win. I know that from personal experience. You can't change the past, so there's no point in even thinking about it, except to remember some of the lessons those experiences may have taught you."

Her hand felt so warm, so friendly, that I took it in mine. As I did so, she impulsively leaned forward and gave me another soft kiss. "I think Amy was a damned fool," she said quietly. "You're one of a kind, and don't you forget it! Now, I'd like a hug."

As she spoke, she had moved closer to me, so it was easy to extend my arms. She slid even closer, and rested her head against my chest while my arms automatically drew her even closer. Impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed her beautiful auburn hair. As I did so, I automatically marvelled at the rich tones and wondered if I could ever find an artificial match on a painter's palette. At the same time, my nostrils were filled with the same delightfully sweet and pungent scent I had noticed on the dance floor the previous night.

Unbidden, I felt my cock twitch at the memory of my earlier arousal. She burrowed deeper against my chest and murmured, "Can't you hold me a little closer?" Her arm lay innocently across my lap.

The picture of her short skirt and the bare skin above her stocking that had been briefly exposed as she danced with that stranger flashed across my mind, and I felt a familiar tumescence in the front of my pants. In an effort to conceal it, I attempted to turn away from her arm, but I was unsuccessful. More than that, a tiny spark of electricity in my scrotum made me realize she was gently, almost surreptitiously, massaging that growing lump with her forearm!

In desperation, I said the only thing that came to mind. "Is this a bad time to ask for another drink?"

"Yes, it is," she replied as she raised her head and looking me in the eye, touched my face with her other hand while raising her parted lips to mine. Her forearm rested firmly, and somewhat uncomfortably on my erecting cock, but that didn't stop me. I leaned forward, and for the first time, tasted her sweet lips, while our tongues met and caressed.

I felt the tip of her tongue explore my mouth, especially the corners of my lips. My cock was becoming uncomfortably cramped in my pants, so I shifted my position, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. 

As I did so, she also moved, sitting more upright. I leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, while almost automatically cupping her warm covered breast in my hand. All pretense was gone. She shifted again, thrusting her chest against my hand while her hand closed over the lump in my pants.

Her swollen nipple felt like a small stone in her bra as I tested the resiliency of her breast. "Wait a minute," she said. She stood and released a hidden clasp in her gown behind her shoulder. The folds of the green material parted, shimmering into a puddle around her ankles, leaving her standing in front of me wearing only a mesh bra and high cut lace panties. Then she kneeled on the couch by my side and began untying my tie.

"I can take care of that," I said. I quickly removed my tie and began unbuttoning my shirt while she opened my belt, my waistband button, and gently began lowering my zipper. Then she seized my hardened cock through my tented shorts.

She leaned over me, whispering, "The clasp is in the back," then fastened her mouth over mine, her hair forming a screen around our passionate kiss. I reached behind her and released her bra strap. 

She shrugged her shoulders, causing her bra to fall away, and for the first time, I felt her hot, soft breasts, each with a stone in its center, burning holes in my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the delicious feelings I was experiencing, both on and inside my body.

Her hand impatiently reached through the fly in my boxers, and closed on my bare cock which she pulled through the opening. "So this is the log that was poking against me last night," she said, glancing down at my swollen member. "I thought perhaps you had a flashlight in your pocket."

I smiled at her tired old joke, and attempted to respond, saying in an equally jocular tone, "I'll bet you say that to all the fellas."

She stopped and looked seriously into my face. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded sharply.

"Nothing," I said quickly, "I was just responding to your joke about flashlights; that's all."

Her expression immediately softened. "Give me another kiss," she said, as she resumed stroking my manhood, sliding my stretched foreskin back and forth over my usually pink, now purple and engorged glans. "You men have such interesting equipment," she said into my mouth as our working lips sucked and caressed each other.

"Feel how wet I'm getting," Sarah said, directing my hand into her lace covered delta. I slid a finger under her panties, and touched her vulva. I was surprised by her sudden reaction. She gripped me tightly, and I felt her body tremble and shudder. I held her until her tremors stopped.

"Whew! That surprised me!" she said. Standing, she extended her hand. "Come on, lover, let's get more comfortable." Sarah's slightly pendulous breasts swayed enticingly as we crossed the room. She led me into her bedroom and closed the door. 

"Now we can have some real privacy." We sat on the edge of her bed. For a moment, she was serious. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea," she said. "It's just that I find you so very attractive that I've let myself go this evening."

Already in a near dream-like state from the wholly unexpected turn this evening had taken, I was momentarily jolted by the impact of her words. Without thinking, I replied, "I feel the same way. I don't know when I've felt as close to anyone as I do you right now." 

Gently, tenderly, I leaned over and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down on the bed. Then she raised herself on one elbow and peered earnestly into my face. "I meant what I said."

"So did I," I replied. She collapsed into my waiting arms, and after a full minute of reveling in the rich feeling of her warm, silky skin pressed tightly against mine from head to toe, we began to caress and explore each other's bodies.

I started with her ears and that special place on the side of her neck, kissing and licking. Then she began playing with my tiny nipples, licking, sucking and biting. That was a first time for me, and I was surprised by the resulting series of tiny jolts I felt in my scrotum and groin, which seemed to further stiffen my cock.

Sarah then surprised me by raising herself above me, throwing her left leg over my legs, and, after leaning down to kiss me again, seizing my cock and holding it in place while she slowly began to settle herself on it. 

I felt a distinct plop as the head of my cock penetrated her inner labia lips. Then she began a slow ritualized dance as she gently settled herself on my member. 

When I felt her buttocks settle on my thighs, she paused, giving herself time to adjust to me. Then she leaned forward, dangling her breasts tantalizingly above my face, and began rocking herself back and forth, carefully keeping my member deeply buried inside her.

I found myself trying to thrust myself even deeper into her by rapidly raising and lowering my hips. She evidently decided to make it easier for me, or maybe she wanted more stimulation, but soon we developed a rhythm so while I was thrusting upward, she was lowering herself on me.

Our combined efforts soon had us both breathless, but the exquisite sensations radiating from my cock throughout my body seemed to take charge, and I soon -- much too soon -- felt my scrotum tighten, the familiar padded tongs grip me across the small of my back, and the essence of my life begin to flow.




My Loving Family Ch. 08



By this time, I was gripping her waist with both hands, adding my strength to hers in a desperate attempt to bury my entire being into her secret garden. I felt my urethra fill, and my cock begin to spasm as I pumped my seed deep inside her welcoming belly.

I was too involved with my own feelings to be aware, at first, that she had collapsed on top of me, and was shuddering through her own relief, but I automatically wrapped my arms around her trembling body, and hugged her close to my chest for several minutes while we both attempted to regain our breath.

Finally, she broke my grip and raised herself on her hands so she was above me, looking deeply into my eyes. Her hair, which had been so carefully arranged, hung loosely around her flushed face. "Wow!" she said. "It's been a long time."

I wasn't sure what she meant, but neither was I inclined to inquire. I was too busy comparing this experience with the loveless couplings I had had with "MoonFace" Nelly and other Indian girls in Fort Resolution when I needed something more than the solitary solace provided by my right hand. There was no comparison.

She coughed. I felt myself slide out of her. She immediately rolled off of me and, cupping her hand over her mons, ran into the bath. When she returned, she gave me a broad smile. "You must have been saving that for a month! But it sure felt good. Move over."

I slid to one side of the bed, and held out my arms. With a single fluid movement, she flowed into my arms, and raised her mouth for a kiss. After hugging her tightly against me, rejoicing in the feel of her plump breasts pressed tightly against my chest, we exchanged a thousand little lover's kisses on each other's eyelids, nose, cheeks (I love that dimple), chin and lips. 

Twice, she started to say something, but I was busy admiring the slope of her jaw, the delicacy of her skin, and the shape of her eyes to pay much attention.

I heard the sound of voices in the other room and suddenly I remembered where I was and felt a pang of guilt, knowing I was probably over-staying my welcome. "I've got to get back to the hotel," I said stupidly.

"Why?" "It's getting late. I can't stay here all night."

"Why not?"

It was becoming more difficult to respond. "Well, it just wouldn't be right. Your kid is going to . . ."

"It's too late. Nonnie has already seen your trousers."

"God, I'm sorry. I wonder what she must think."

"She probably thinks I got lucky tonight."

"I don't understand . . ."

"I tried to tell you earlier, so you wouldn't feel rushed, and so we could relax and enjoy each other. Nonnie's practically a grown woman. She's been on the pill almost a year. I don't pry into her activities, and she's equally considerate of me.

"I don't want to give the wrong impression," she added quickly. "It isn't that I make a habit of dragging men into my bedroom . . "

I smiled at the picture she painted, but nevertheless felt a pang of disappointment -- or was it jealousy? -- at the thought that other men had rested where I was resting. But then I sternly reminded myself that I had no right to feel anything; after all, we scarcely knew each other.

I think Sarah must have read my expression. "I hope this doesn't shock you, Pete, but you can't possibly think I've been celibate since Graham left me. After all, it's been 14 years."

She was right. Mentally, I kicked myself for being such a righteous fool. "I'm sorry, dear -- may I call you dear? -- it's just that things have been happening so fast. . . I'm just a country boy, you know." Secretly, I wondered if I should mention Moonface Nelly just to even the scales, but I didn't have to.

"Of course. You may call me anything you like. I assume you're extending the same privilege to me . . ." She paused, then added, "As for the other thing, I certainly doubt whether you've slept alone every night since your Amy left you."

She had me there. I grinned at her. Somehow, Sarah had made things all right, again. I gathered her in my arms and silently hugged her. Then we kissed again, this time with open, passionate mouths. I was astonished to feel myself beginning to stir. She felt it, too.

"Everything OK?" she asked. Her eyes were dancing as if we shared a secret joke. For an answer, I hugged her again and then pinched a convenient nipple. 

"Oh, Pete," she whispered into my neck, "I'm so glad we found each other!"

I have no idea how many times we made love that first night, but the sun was streaming through the windows when I woke to find myself alone in Sarah's bed. My clothes were neatly piled on the chair. A note rested on top of them. It read, "I decided to let you sleep so you'd regain your strength. See you tonight? Call me at 733-8770, ext 74. There's coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself. - - Sarah."

(To be continued) 



My Loving Family Ch. 09



Synopsis: Peter enjoys a lovely dinner and a wonderful dessert in Sarah's apartment where he spends the night.

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

I returned to Ft. Resolution with terribly mixed emotions. On the one hand, I knew that no matter what happened next, Sarah Kincaide would always have a permanent place in my heart. 

Instead of reading, I sat staring out the window of the coach seeing, instead of the passing scenery, nothing but a constant replay in my mind, over and over again, of the precious minutes and hours I had spent in Sarah's company and her bed. 

It wasn't so much the sex, although I felt a pleasant tingle in my loins as I remembered how great sex with her had been, as it was a constant review of our conversation and a mental search for covert clues that might help determine her attitude and feelings toward me.

She had been friendly enough, but I was looking for something deeper, something special that I could keep with me in the days and weeks ahead because I didn't expect to see her again any time soon, and despite the fact that we had spent the night in each other's arms, I didn't feel I knew her well enough to begin a romantic correspondence. Those poignant memories faded during the following days and weeks as I worked with Jack, fighting the rapidly shortening hours of daylight and the steadily descending snow line on the surrounding hills in a rush to complete those essential tasks that had to be completed before freeze-up. It gets damned cold in that country during the winter, and human activity slows to a crawl.

Although most prospectors now used snowmobiles during the winter traveling to and from the creeks where they dug prospect holes looking for "color," Jack and I still relied on our dogteam.

Dogteams may be slow and require constant care, but they don't run out of gas or throw a track when their driver is 20 cold miles from the nearest warm bed. That meant that we also had to catch and dry hundreds of fish as trail rations to supplement the dried food we cooked into a hot mush for them every evening at our headquarters.

Our camp routine was interrupted in mid October when we received an urgent message from our factors, Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons in Winnipeg, requesting me to return to Winnipeg as soon as possible to discuss the details of our mining proposal with a representative of the London investment company who was flying to Winnipeg for that purpose.

I hastily packed my kit. Jack drove me to the train station the next morning, and the following morning I arrived in Winnipeg.

Jack probably thought my ill concealed joy to be returning to Winnipeg so soon was to close the deal so we'd be free to get on with our lives. He knew my heart wasn't really in the back-breaking labor real prospecting entailed, and I thought he might even be glad to be rid of me so he could find a more congenial partner.

As soon as I set foot in the big brick train station, I went directly to the bank of pay phones against the far wall and dialed Sarah's number. No answer. Of course! She would be at work by now. I called her office and was quickly put through to her.


"This is Sarah Kincaide. How may I help you?" At the sound of her voice, my heart began beating at twice its normal rate, and I found I was panting like a dog. My palms were slick with sweat and I felt moisture beading on my forehead. I even had difficulty speaking. "Hi," I croaked. "This is . . ." I paused, cursing myself for a fool as I tried to remember my name . . ."Pete . . .ahh, Pete Crockett. Remember me?"

"Well, hello, Pete. This is a surprise. I didn't expect to hear from you again so soon."

"I just got off the train. Mr. Bose wanted me to come in to iron out some details, and I was wondering . . ."

"Oh, Pete, I'm sorry. If only I had known . . . but I'm afraid I'm going to be busy tonight. . ."

"What about tomorrow night?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to see. Call me again around noon tomorrow, will you? I'd love to see you again."

Yeah, sure. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. I was so disappointed, I almost felt like crying. But I tried to sound cheerful. "I understand, Sarah, short notice and all that . . ."

"I hope you do, Pete. I'm really looking forward to seeing you again; it's just that this is one engagement I can't break, but I wish I could. Call me tomorrow, please?"

She sounded sincere, and I immediately felt better. "I certainly will; you can count on it!" After checking into the hotel, I called Mr. Bose's office. His receptionist was expecting my call and told me a meeting was scheduled for that afternoon. I took off my shoes and gratefully stretched out on the bed for a short nap. It's well that I did.

Mr. Bose and a lanky young man were in his office when I arrived. "Pete, I'd like you to meet Ian Christy. Ian represents the London group. As I told you on the phone, we need to go over our proposal once again."

We shook hands. The minute Ian opened his mouth to say "G'day" which he pronounced "G'die," I knew he was an Australian. They have an accent that's unlike any other. He opened his briefcase and extracted a folder. For the next two hours, he questioned me not only about our claims, but also about the community, the availability of labor, transportation and many other pertinent matters. At the end, as we shook hands again, I suggested that since we were a couple of bachelors on the loose in the big city, that we might have dinner together.

Ian shook his head. "I'm sorry mate (which he pronounced "mite"), but I'm all tied up tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

As we turned to leave the office, Mr. Bose cleared his throat and said, "Pete, would you mind waiting a moment? There's something I need to ask."

I paused while Mr. Bose ushered Ian out of his office. Then he closed the door. "Mrs Bose -- Cynthia -- is very interested in the Yellowknife District. She asked me, if it was convenient, to invite you to supper at our house this evening. We'd like to get better acquainted, too."

I can't say I was eager to spend an entire evening in Mr. Bose's company, let alone in his company and that of woman like him, but since he knew I had no other plans, I couldn't think of a polite way to refuse, so I pretended enthusiasm and said, "Why that's very kind of you, Mr. Bose. What time and where?"

I envisioned a stately home in the country somewhere and was surprised to learn that he and Mrs. Bose lived in a penthouse apartment in a hotel at the other end of the block from my hotel. At the appointed hour, I was standing in the hall juggling a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers while I reached for the doorbell.

The door opened and at first I thought I must have the wrong apartment because Mr. Bose hadn't mentioned a daughter and the woman I saw was hardly more than a girl. A very lovely girl with long incurling silvery blonde hair resting just above her shoulders, a classic oval face, slightly slanted green eyes, and a generous, very kissable mouth with puffy lips brightly painted with lip gloss.

"You must be Mr. Crockett," she said with a welcoming smile. "Please come in."

Like the country lout I am, I thrust my burden of wine and flowers in her hands, mumbled something incoherent, and stumbled across the threshold. 

She stood aside to let me pass, then turned and said, "Here, let me take these in the kitchen. Roscoe is on a long distance call just now, so please step into the living room and make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

Apartment living rooms tend to be on the smallish size, and this one was no exception. The floor was covered with a colorful oriental rug. An overstuffed sofa was strategically placed against an inside wall so that people sitting on it could enjoy the twinkling city lights through the full length windows on the opposite wall. A matching chair was placed at an angle to the sofa so that a person sitting there could also enjoy the view while still facing whoever was on the sofa. A reading lamp and side table next to the chair, a coffee table between the chair and the sofa, and a large TV in the corner completed the furnishings.

I sat in the middle of the sofa since if Mr. Bose was like ninety-nine percent of the male population his age, the chair was probably his. Mrs. (or was it Miss?) Bose appeared in the doorway, walked across the room to the chair, and sat down.

Only then did I notice the long slit in her narrow skirt that opened it almost to her hip. I still wasn't sure whether I was dealing with a wife or a daughter until I noticed her wedding rings. She carefully arranged her skirt and managing at once to call my attention to the way her skirt was cut while at the same time concealing most of her exposed thigh. We studied each other for a brief moment. 

I expect she saw a middle aged roughneck with a new haircut and a tie that didn't go with anything I was wearing. I, on the other hand, saw a beautiful young woman with a piquant smile wearing a brief red cocktail dress that seemed strangely out of place in a Bose household. I also thought I saw a wary look in her eyes, and a certain puzzling tension in the way she held herself. 

Then she abruptly stood. "I'm sorry," she said. "Where are my manners? Can I get you a drink -- a cocktail perhaps? Dinner is still a few minutes away." 

"A whisky/water would be just fine, Mrs. Bose."

She smiled. "Cynthia will do just fine, Mr. Crockett."

"In that case, Cynthia, my real name is Pete." Then as she turned, I studied her retreating figure. Her skirt undulated as she walked, betraying the play of her thigh, hip and butt muscles under the thin material. When she returned from the kitchen with a glass in each hand and bent over to place my drink in the center of the coffee table, she seemed oblivious as her decolletage gaped open, revealing two soft, white breasts. She was not wearing a bra.

My cock gave an involuntary twitch, and I hastily crossed my legs, hoping she hadn't noticed my physical reaction. 

Just then Mr. Bose walked into the room. I began to stand, but he motioned me down. "We're informal here, Pete. I'm sorry I was tied up on the phone. I was talking with our English friends about our little project. I see Cynthia's been entertaining you . . ." 

He abruptly turned to his wife. "Dear, would you mind fixing me a Martini?"

Then he sat in the chair his wife had vacated. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she? I can see the question everyone asks on your face. Yes, Cynthia's my second wife. We're very much in love. It's wonderful to have someone like her to come home to after a long day at the office. She's a damned good cook, too. I think you're in for a treat!" 

Mr. Bose lapsed into silence. I didn't know what to say, so we sat looking at one another until Cynthia returned bearing Mr. Bose's cocktail. I had drained my glass by that time, so she silently took it out of my hand and returned to the kitchen.

"This is a lovely apartment . . ." I ventured.

"It should be," Mr. Bose replied. God knows it costs enough!"

"But look at the time and money you save being able to walk to work," I said.

"Oh, it's convenient, all right. I'll certainly give you that."

We were interrupted by Cynthia's quiet return. As before, instead of handing the glass directly to me, she chose to place it on the coffee table a second time, thus exposing her bosom to a stranger in front of her husband! This time I knew it must be deliberate. What the hell?

As if to confirm my suspicions, she leveled her piercing green eyes on me as I involuntarily glanced down, secretly hoping to see the pink tips of her plump breasts, and she smiled, then winked.

Again, even as I shot a nervous glance toward Mr. Bose who was still sitting comfortably in the overstuffed chair, apparently oblivious to the clandestine message his young wife had just given me, I wondered how much of this was real? That is, was this gorgeous young woman so bereft of male company that anyone in pants who walked through their front door was fair game? Or was this a carefully arranged scenario planned by both of them to somehow compromise me, thus gaining an economic advantage in our mining negotiations?

A third possibility never occurred to me. My mind was busily attempting to process this unexpected bonus, as I remembered the erotic way her twin melons had quivered when she had displayed them to me. My cock gave another involuntary little lurch. 

She sat next to me, just a little too close, on the couch. "I can serve dinner any time you gentlemen are ready," she said. I glanced at her and was shocked to see that the revealing slit in her skirt was gaping open and that her left sleek, silken thigh -- the one next to me -- was partly exposed all the way to the lacy top of her stocking. A hint of white skin appeared in the apex of the slit. My cock twitched again. I was almost afraid to look at her husband for fear he might have noticed her obvious display. 

However, Mr. Bose seemed quite oblivious to his wife's odd behavior. Instead, he stood, saying, "I need to wash up. Go ahead, dear, I'll be right there." 

As he turned to walk out of the room, his wife put her hand on my thigh, and as he disappeared in the hall, she said, "Like what you see so far? This is a little game Roscoe and I sometimes play. Don't worry. He's not going for a shotgun!" With that, she stood, but not before trailing her fingers gently over my erecting cock.

Again I admired the way her muscles caused her tight skirt to undulate across her ass. Unbidden, an adolescent expression popped into my mind: Like a sack full of wildcats!

Mr. Bose returned to the living room. "Would you like to wash up, Pete? The lavatory is just around the corner to your left. Come into the dining room when you're finished."

Then he turned and followed his wife out of the room. I waited until he was gone before I dared stand because I knew my partial erection would be immediately obvious to him. Once in the lavatory, I ran cold water over my hands until my skin was chilled, then opened my pants and brought my still stiff member out into the fresh air.

The combination of my cold wet hands and absence of further stimulation did the trick. I was able to pee a few drops, rinsed my hands again and walked into the dining room and into a scene I'm sure I'll never forget.

I was stunned! Cynthia -- it now seemed ridiculous to call her anything else -- had changed her clothes while I was in the bathroom. She was placing a soup tureen on the table as I approached. Then she turned. She now wore a very short miniskirt, a blouse that was almost transparent, her stockings and her high heeled shoes. Her small breasts, dark nipples and surrounding areola were clearly visible, even in the subdued dining room lighting. Her erect nipples made little tents in the front of her blouse, betraying her excitement as she smiled her welcome.

Mr. Bose chuckled at my obvious discomfort. "Cynthia told me you seemed willing to play our little game. I hope I haven't misjudged you, Pete! If I have . . ." 

"Uhh, no, Mr. Bose . . ."

"I think, Pete, in the circumstances, that it would be more appropriate if you would address me as Roscoe. . ."

"Yessir, Mr. uh, Roscoe." Mentally, I was cursing myself for being such a country bumpkin; such a hick! Before I could further embarrass myself, Cynthia stepped in front of me and wrapped her warm, soft arms around my neck, putting her hands behind my head, and pressing her open, wet mouth against mine. Her tongue slid between my lips, and before I knew what was happening, I was returning her kiss, teasing her tongue with mine, and nibbling her lips. Her breasts were mashed against my chest, but the erotic memory of her perky nipples and the feel of her belly rubbing against me caused my cock to spring to full attention.

Then she stepped away. Even in the dim light, I could see that she was flushed, and was breathing rapidly. "I think he's ready to play, Roscoe," she said, as she reached down and openly fondled my erection. 

Mr. Bose -- it's still hard for me to think of him as 'Roscoe' -- smiled. "All in good time, my dear," he said. "But now let's have dinner, before the food cools. It will only improve our appetite for dessert later." 

My God! The man was unbelievable!

Cynthia obediently sat in a chair across the table from me. Roscoe sat at the end of the table facing us in profile. "Umm, this soup is delicious, dear," he said, as he spooned the last of it into his mouth. "Shall I open the wine?"

Cynthia mechanically carried the soup dishes away. Roscoe followed her into the kitchen and I heard the indistinct hum of their voices. Then he returned with an opened bottle of wine, and was immediately followed by his wife carrying two dinner plates, one of which she placed on the table in front of her husband, and the other before me. 

As she leaned over me, her breast softly caressed my shoulder and she whispered in my ear, "Here's a surprise especially for you." 

Puzzled, I turned and openly admired her breasts which swayed enticingly as she turned away and returned to the kitchen. When she came back into the dining room and realized how intently I was staring, her smile broadened and her walk became almost a stripper's strut.

The dinner was delicious. Rice covered with an especially pungent goulash -- almost a curry -- blanketed most of my plate. I was hungry, and dug in with great enthusiasm. I was so intent on the sensuous flavors in the goulash that I was momentarily surprised when I felt Cynthia's foot part my knees and her toe begin to caress my crotch. Then my fork snagged something buried in the rice. At first, I thought it was simply a piece of fabric that had somehow gotten mixed up with the rice, but then as I lifted it clear of my food, I realized it was a tiny black lace panty.

I looked up to see both Mr. Bose and his lovely young wife, her eyes sparkling with subdued amusement watch as I realized she had taken her panties off in the kitchen and buried them in the rice.

"We thought their unique flavor might improve your appetite for dessert," Mr. Bose said.

I responded by twisting my fork to wrap the tiny garment around the fork's tines, then slowly sucked the material into my mouth. "What a wonderful garnish," I said, this time speaking directly to Cynthia after I slowly withdrew it from between my pursed lips. Then I stood and walked around the table to her, leaned over, and gave her a warm, open mouthed kiss with plenty of tongue as my hand gently lifted and tested her breast's youthful resiliency while my thumb pressed against her aroused nipple.

Dinner was over. Cynthia briefly sucked on my tongue, then said, "Wait, lover. I know a better place for dessert." She rose and led the way back through the living room into the hall, and into a bedroom. "We call this our dessert room," she said.

Turning once again so she was facing me, she wrapped her arms around my neck, whispering, "Now where were we?" just she pressed her open, mouth against mine, offering her lips and tongue to my hungry, needing mouth. Our tongues were intertwined, and I savored the natural flavors of her mouth over the artificially perfumed scent and taste of the lip gloss with which she had caked her generous lips (and as I soon discovered, her nipples).

I was so absorbed by the taste of Cynthia's hot, wet mouth, the scent of her passion which seemed to envelop both of us, the feel of her hand stroking my face and of her body pressing against my hard erection that I failed to realize that Roscoe had slipped into the room behind us, and was now sitting in a chair watching as I made love to his wife.

Cynthia stepped back and began to unbutton my shirt even as I shrugged out of my jacket and slid my tie off. Then, while I was still struggling out of my shirt, crossing her arms in the single fluid motion that all women seem to master at a very young age, but which is utterly beyond the ken of men, Cynthia removed her transparent blouse, and crushed her naked breasts against my bare chest while throwing her arms around my neck again, pulling my head down for another hot, wet open mouthed kiss.




My Loving Family Ch. 09



My cock felt as if it were about to burn a hole in my pants. Cynthia released me, and at the same time pushed me backward. The edge of their bed caught me at the back of my knees, and I abruptly sat on a soft comforter. 

Cynthia swiftly knelt in front of me and began untying my shoes and pulling off my socks. "Now for the best part," she said as she reached up to unbuckle my belt, unbutton my waistband, and pull my zipper down.

I raised my ass so she could slide my pants down and off. Then she reached up again and lifting the waistband over my straining cock, slid my boxers down.

"What a beautiful cock," she breathed as she took it in one hand and lifted my scrotum with the other. She then leaned forward and kissed the tip of the red glans that extending beyond my retracting foreskin. Then she did something entirely unexpected.

She stood, pushed me flat on my back while I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, pulled her skirt up and, straddled my chest, walking forward on her knees until her inflamed and swollen dripping vulva was directly over my face. Then she settled herself on my thirsty mouth and surrendered to my tongue which instinctively began tracing and penetrating those intricate folds. As I felt my tongue penetrating the essence of her womanhood, her labia seemed to unfold like an opening flower.

I was so keenly atuned to the taste, aroma, and texture of her smooth vulva, and the way she reacted when I touched the impertinent little nubbin near the top of her crease, that I failed to realize at first that my cock seemed to have found a warm, wet home of its own. For a moment, I wondered if Cynthia had somehow managed to turn herself around without my noticing it it, but when I reached down, I realized the face that was engulfing my cock had a 5 o'clock shadow! 

Cynthia, perhaps sensing that I was distracted, impatiently rubbed her vulva even harder against my mouth, but I was lost to the sensations in my groin as the pressures in my urethra built. My cock abruptly swelled in response to the gently sucking mouth and tongue which was cleverly stimulating that special place under the head of my cock (which probably corresponds to the "G" spot in vaginas), where a man's sensory nerve endings are concentrated.

Without warning, my cock began to spasm and I began involuntarily thrusting myself as I sent stream after stream of semen into Roscoe's waiting mouth. I thought I heard Cynthia say something, but her thighs were pressed so tightly against the sides of my head that I wasn't sure. 

But now that my tensions had been temporarily eased, I decided to experiment. Cynthia was still aggressively rubbing her vulva against my mouth, so I opened my mouth and first gently nipped the edge of her dangling labia with my teeth and then sucked it deep into my mouth, all the time rolling her outer lips between mine. When I bit her again, this time more sharply, I heard her muffled cry as her body began shuddering, trembling, and jerking. Cynthia liked a little pain.

She suddenly sprawled forward and rolled on her side. I quickly scooted up so I was fully on the bed. I took her in my arms, holding her, stroking her hair, gently kissing the top of her head as her temors slowly subsided. Then she gave a deep sigh, and pulled away from me so she could look into my face. "I don't know what you did, Pete, but I can't remember ever coming like that before. God, it felt good!" Then she reached down and captured my soft cock in her hand. "Do you think there's any hope?" 

I wanted to fuck her so badly that I could almost taste it, but Roscoe had beaten her to it. I glanced in his direction. He had returned to his chair, but was naked from the waist down, and was slowly stroking a cock that was as hard as mine was soft.

He smiled. "Why don't we trade places for a while, Pete. I'm sure you'll recover before the evening is over."

He was right. I was temporarily useless, so I rolled off the bed and walked around to the chair Roscoe had vacated. The seat was still warm. 

He wasted no time, and neither did she. While we were changing places, she had slipped out of her skirt, and now she welcomed her husband with raised and widely spread legs. He unceremoniously raised her thighs above her head and in a single stroke, plunged his cock deep into her body. God, how I envied him that triumphant entry!

Cynthia's toes curled, and a deep flush darkened her face and chest. I could see her stomach muscles undulate. After waiting for her orgasm to subside, Roscoe began fucking his wife with a steady succession of thrusts, culminating when I saw his scrotum tighten, in a rapid series and an obvious ejaculation deep inside her.

Almost immediately, he withdrew his now semi-hard cock, and walked to the door, turning just before he left the room to say, "She's all yours. Have fun." Then he left, closing the door behind him. 

I'm happy to report that after nearly an hour of cuddling and whispering and stroking, we managed to raise the dead, and I gratefully sank my cock into her wonderfully hot, wet and energetic vagina. Unfortunately, both of us were already satiated, so that last fuck was more of a courtesy than a passionate coupling.

Later, after I returned to my hotel and reviewed that evening, three related incidents came immediately to mind. Cynthia's surprising exhibitionism in the dining room, her reaction when I bit her labia, and that warm wet mouth and tongue that had coaxed the best out of me. It was only then that I realized that I had been the unwitting pawn in a well rehearsed game. 

It was not by accident that Cynthia had retained her skirt when she presented her vulva to my mouth. It was deliberate, to keep me from seeing, if I happened to come up for air, what her husband was about to do in case I was squeamish about being sucked off by a man. 

(To be continued) 



My Loving Family Ch. 10



Synopsis: Peter was invited to dinner at Mr. Bose's home, where he was seduced by Bose and his "trophy" wife. Remember, Peter still does not know how Sarah earns her "extra" money.

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Ten

 Frankly, I was very embarrassed the next morning when Ian and I met in Mr. Bose's office. I could scarcely bring myself to look Mr. Bose in the face after the events of the previous evening, although I saw nothing in his demeanor to suggest that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. 

 I remember wondering if the man was made of stone, but then realizing that a person equipped emotionally for a full partnership in a dynamic factoring firm like Bose, Rothchild had to have a certain amount of ice water in his veins.

 The morning seemed to drag on and on. I was watching the clock on the wall, urging the hands to move more quickly so I'd be able to meet my noon appointment to call Sarah and confirm our date for that evening.

 I'm afraid that with the memory of Roscoe's warm mouth on my straining cock, and my eager anticipation of the evening to come with Sarah, I wasn't entirely focused on the direction the conversation was taking. Indeed, Ian had to repeat himself twice before his question sank in. "What's your estimate of the distance we'd have to lay track from the mine to the nearest railroad trunk line?"

 I knew that we were some 20 miles from the nearest train station, but that was by a rather circuitous road. I could only guess. "It would depend on the route your engineers chose, but my guess is that it would be between 15 and 18 miles."

 Ian had several additional questions of a general nature. I tried to be careful with my answers; I didn't want to make the project sound too difficult or too expensive; yet at the same time, neither did I want to construct a verbal house of cards that would collapse at the first disappointment his principals encountered. Therefore, I answered his questions slowly and deliberately.

 Time seemed to speed up, and I was surprised when Mr. Bose stood. "Well, gentlemen, I think it's about time we broke for lunch. I can highly recommend Murphy's across the street. Suppose we meet back here at, say, two o'clock.

 Ian and I knew we had been dismissed, so we took the elevator downstairs, and made our way across the street. The regular noon hour rush was largely over, so we were readily seated. I excused myself and made my way to the bank of telephones I had seen in the restaurant's vestibule while Ian went to the men's room.

 Cursing my trembling finger and the cold weight that settled in my stomach the moment I lifted the received from its hook, I dialed Sarah's number, praying she hadn't given up on me.

 "Hello?"

 "Uh, is this Sarah?"

 "Is that you, Pete?"

 At least she recognized my voice. Feeling better, I asked, "Are we on for tonight?"

 "I'm so sorry, Pete, but the prior engagement I told you about yesterday has materialized. But I'm open tomorrow, dear. I hope you're not too disappointed. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow. Is that OK?"

 What choice did I have? "I'm disappointed, all right," I said, "Because I'll be catching the train tomorrow back to Ft. Resolution."

 "Oh, Pete, now I'm the one who's disappointed! I'm so sorry. But there's always a next time. . ."

 I made no effort to conceal my disappointment. "I guess so," I said despondently. "Whenever that is . . ."

 "Please, Pete, don't make it any worse than it already is. We'll get together next time . . .I promise!"

 Slightly cheered by the strength and conviction in her voice, I said, "I'll be counting the days."

 "So will I, sweetheart."

 We hung up and I made my doleful way back to our table where Ian was waiting for me. "Why the long face, cobber?" he asked.

 I told him I had thought I had a date lined up for the evening, but that it had fallen through. He shook his head, commiserating with me. "Ah, women," he said philosophically, "We can't live with them, and we can't live without 'em!"

 Ian proved to be just the medicine I needed. He had a rich repertoire of stories about joeys and wallabys and great white sharks and the people who live in Australia -- Austrilia was the way he pronounced it -- so by the time we had to leave for our appointment with Mr. Bose, we had become good friends.

 Just as we were walking through the restaurant vestibule, he stopped and put a hand on my arm. "I just had a great idea," he said. "Why don't I call my date and see if she has a friend?"

 My first impulse was to decline. I didn't need anyone's pity. But the thought of a lonely evening in my sterile hotel room quickly caused me to change my mind. "Well, OK, if you think I won't be a wet blanket."

 Ian hurried over to the same bank of phones I had used earlier. In less than two minutes he was back, a big, self-satisfied grin on his face. "I got you fixed up, mate. If she's anything like my girl, you'll have your hands full!"

 The afternoon session in Mr. Bose's office went quickly. Again, Ian and I left together, this time pausing in a bar on our way back to our hotels where we had a couple of drinks. I tried to get more information about our "dates," but Ian didn't know anything more about the friend than he had already told me. Finally we left the bar and went our separate ways, me to my hotel and he to his. We agreed to meet in the lobby of his hotel -- which, by a stroke of irony turned out to be the hotel where the Boses live -- in an hour's time.

 I took a quick shower, shaved, and slapped on some of that aftershave women seem to go for. Then, dressed, I walked up the street to Ian's hotel. Just before entering the lobby, however, it occurred to me that there was a possibility I might run into Cynthia or Mr. Bose. It could be embarrassing if Ian were find us together, so I carefully surveyed the lobby to make sure there were no familiar faces before entering. Then I quickly bought a newspaper to hide behind if necessary, found an empty chair away from the center of activity, and settled down to wait for Ian.

 Promptly at 7:30, he strode out of an elevator. Laying the newspaper to one side, I waved to attract his attention. We briefly shook hands and went out to the sidewalk to catch a cab. I had no idea where we were to meet the women, but I wasn't surprised when the cab pulled up in front of Brown's Restaurant.

 "We're to meet them in the bar," Ian said. I followed him through the revolving door and into the bar where Sarah and Willa waited.

 Sarah hadn't noticed me yet, and I felt the color drain from my face as Ian and Sarah warmly embraced and exchanged the open mouthed kisses of lovers. Willa was standing slightly to one side looking very unhappy as her gaze shifted back and forth between me and the couple enthusiastically exchanging kisses. Then the lovers parted and Sarah saw me.

 Her face also paled, but she quickly regained her composure. She held her hands out to me "Well, Pete! This is a surprise! Don't tell me you're Willa's blind date!"

 I felt numb, but I managed to smile and nod as I took her small hands in mine. Despite the self-pity I was feeling, I thought I saw something in Sarah's eyes -- perhaps a plea for my understanding?

 Ian was standing to one side watching us. "I guess I don't need to make introductions," he said. His remark broke the tension, and we all smiled, although a bit painfully. Willa came into my arms and looked up into my face. "Hi, Pete. Remember me?" she asked quietly.

 Just then the maître'd came up to us and tapped Ian on the arm. "Your table is ready, sir." He led the four of us through the busy, noisy dining room into a quiet alcove. Since I was at the end of our little single file group, I had an opportunity to get my mind straight, and even compare the dresses the women wore, and they way they filled them.

 Sarah was wearing a dark maroon off-the-shoulder cocktail dress that reached only midway between her knee and hip, giving any onlooker an expanse of shapely feminine leg accented by sheer black hose to admire. The dress was so snug in her waist and hips so that she might as well have been nude as her hips swung in the tantalizing hip swinging walk high heels seem to require.

 Willa was a little shorter than Sarah, and seemed to lack some of the other woman's style, but she more than made up for it in a cuddly sort of way. She seemed less self assured than Sarah, almost like a teenager in her prom dress except that the woman in front of me was no teenager. If nothing else, the womanly flare and swing of her hips betrayed a certain maturity not found in youngsters, and the dress she wore was no prom dress, either.

 Like Sarah's, it was snug enough so a panty line should have been visible. Her skirt was a bit longer, but her bodice was far more daring. Her plump breasts were exposed almost to the nipple.

 The table the maître'd led us to was round and barely large enough for four place settings. A semi circular cushioned seat provided seating for Sarah and Ian, while Willa and I sat on soft cushioned chairs facing them.

 The tinted soft light that flooded the room created a romantic aura and softened the women's features. Drinks arrived, and Ian offered a toast to the four of us in whatever adventures lay ahead for us. I was still trying to adjust my thinking to accommodate the new reality that Sarah was not exclusively mine, so I responded with a neutral toast to our joint mining venture.

 While we were waiting for our food, the women excused themselves to visit the restroom. After they were our of earshot, Ian said, "Gor blim'y, mate! I never in a thousand years would have guessed that you and Sarah knew each other. Is there something special between you two?"

 That was my perfect opening, and I blew it. But instinctively, I thought I wouldn't be doing Sarah any favors by trying to reclaim her, so instead of telling Ian the truth, I shrugged. "We've been out a couple of times; that's all."

 Ian looked enormously relieved. "Ah, you had me worried there for a minute, mate." He paused. "She's one hell of a piece of ass, isn't she?"

 I had an instant black urge to stand and beat the man to death, but I managed to curb it. Fortunately, the dim lighting served to conceal whatever emotional stress may have been revealed on my face. Gradually, my fists unclenched, and I even managed a curt nod in agreement. But my neck still felt hot and I had to work at forcing a smile. "That she is, mite," I said, mocking his accent.

 I was still contemplating murder when I felt soft cool fingers touch the back of my neck, and I caught a whiff of an exciting perfume. I stood while Sarah slid into her place next to Ian, and held Willa's chair for her. Almost immediately, the waiter appeared with a large tray and a waist high folding stand. After placing the tray on the stand, he served our dinner.

 Conversation was muted while we slowly ingested the delicious meal. I was swallowing a morsel of steak when I felt something nudge between my knees. Soon a stockinged toe was caressing the front of my trousers. I looked up sharply and gazed into Sarah's pleading eyes while our two companions, oblivious to our silent conversation ate on.

 I nodded my understanding to her. She responded by digging her toe even harder into my crotch as if she were expressing her relief and thanking me. Suddenly, I felt Willa's hand on my thigh. I gave Sarah's foot a squeeze between my knees. 

 She evidently got the message because she quickly withdrew her foot and not a moment too soon because Willa's hand soon replaced it, touching my growing tumescence. She instantly withdrew her hand and leaned over to whisper, "Did I cause that?"

 I put my left hand on her thigh, gently squeezing her leg. "What do you think?" I whispered back.

 "Hey, you guys. No fair whispering at this table!" Ian was pretending to be upset. Sarah reached up, turned his face toward her, and kissed him. "Let them whisper if they want to," she said. "After all, they have some catching up to do."

 I felt a jealous pang at her indirect confirmation of the boast Ian had made while the women were away, but Willa's busy little hand returned to my crotch and began massaging the growing lump in the front of my pants, and the pang disappeared, to be replaced, to my enormous surprise, by a wave of pure lust as I pictured a naked Ian mounted on Sarah, her bare legs wrapped around his waist and his cock deeply embedded in her body.

 What the hell was wrong with me?

 Revolted, not so much by the image as by my physical reaction to it, I consciously focused on stroking Willa's thigh, gradually inching her skirt higher and higher until I felt the lace band around her stocking top. I was prepared to go further, but we were interrupted by the waiter who poured another round of coffee.

 Sarah smiled at me as if we had reached a silent understanding and said to Ian, "Let's go to the Cave. I haven't been there in ages."

 I was relieved to see Ian open his wallet and lay his credit card on the dinner check. "Tonight's festivities are courtesy of Cromwell & Perkins, Ltd. of London," he announced, adding, "although I daresay the old boys would be very envious if they could see Pete and me now."     We stopped in the cloakroom to retrieve the lady's wraps, stepped out to the curb and hailed a passing taxi. In scant minutes we pulled up in front of the Cave, which was just as crowded as I remembered it. We found a vacant table near the dance floor. Ian went to the bar for our drinks while we three attempted to make embarrassed conversation. 

 I was still trying to get my head straight. After all, Sarah hadn't told me she was visiting a sick aunt. Of course she hadn't told me she had a date with Ian, either, but why should she? It wasn't as if we were engaged. Actually, it was none of my business what she did or with whom.

 I was feeling better about this evening's activities when Ian returned with a waitress to take our orders. Then, wasting no time, he asked Sarah to dance. I deliberately tried not to look in their direction. Despite my rationalizations, I knew how Sarah preferred to dance, and I was certain she found in Ian a willing partner. 

 I'm sure Willa must have realized what was on my mind, the way she stroked my thigh. It suddenly occurred to me that I was behaving badly. Belatedly, I asked Willa if she'd like to dance. 

 She shook her head. "I never learned how," she said. Then she explained her religious background. "Although I can't remember any discussion about it, I know my parents would have considered it sinful."

 In vain, I told her I was strictly a country dancer -- all enthusiasm but very little skill, and suggested we could learn together.

 Willa smiled. "Sounds like fun," she said, "but not here; not in front of all these people." Then she added, "don't you suppose we could find a place quieter than this where we could have a real conversation instead of having to shout over that loud music?"

 I had caught only a glimpse of Ian and Sarah dancing, but a glimpse was all I needed to send that cold cannonball into the pit of my stomach again. They couldn't have been more intimately entwined if they were lying in bed! I didn't really think I could handle much more of that without doing or saying something I knew I would bitterly regret. I nodded and smiled. "Sure. There's a quiet bar in my hotel. I could use some fresh air, too."

 I left some money on the table. Willa tucked Sarah's purse out of sight on her chair, and we left. Cabs were readily available. As soon as we were settled in one, Willa asked, "Wouldn't you rather come back to the apartment? The girls are at a slumber party."

 "Well, sure, if that's all right," I replied.

 She gave the driver her address. Then rested her hand on my thigh again. I already had an arm around her shoulders, so it was a simple matter to reach up and turn her head so she was facing me, pull her close, and give her a gentle, kiss on her closed mouth.

 I was surprised by her response. She quickly wrapped her arms about my neck and pulled herself against me. Then she returned my kiss, her mouth open and working against mine. I felt the tip of her tongue caress my lips, teasing me by tickling the corners of my mouth, and when I opened my mouth, driving her tongue inside my mouth to dance with my tongue. 

We were a wet, slobbery pair when she finally pulled away so she could breathe. "Wow!" "I like you, Pete," she said. "Or maybe I'm a just pushover for guys like you who come from the country. I'm still just a farm girl at heart, myself." Then she placed her hand squarely on the growing lump in my pants. 

 I responded by sliding my free hand under her skirt, so I was able to tickle bare skin on the inside of her thigh above her stocking top. She clamped her legs tightly shut, trapping my errant hand in place. "I'll give you ten minutes to stop that!" she whispered.

 In much less than ten minutes, we drew up in front of her apartment building. I retrieved my hand so I could fish my wallet out and pay the driver. Then we climbed a flight of stairs to her apartment.

 "Let me get you a drink," Willa said, as I sank into the sofa. I nodded and looked around the room. Not much had changed since my previous visit -- except the woman who stepped through the kitchen doorway, a brimming glass in her hand. She handed it to me. "I hope it's not too strong." 

There was none of the coquettishness Cynthia had displayed when she had leaned forward to give me a glimpse of her bosom. Willa was much more direct. 

 As she sat next to me, I asked, "Aren't you having a drink, too?"

 "I never learned to like the stuff," she said, "besides, having a handsome man sitting beside me is all the stimulation I need." She put her hand on my thigh again.

 The drink was almost pure Scotch. Despite its superior tang and flavor, it nevertheless burned as it slid down my throat. I coughed, and tears came to my eyes.

 "Oh, dear," Willa said. "It is too strong. Let me put some more water in it."

 I felt my cheeks flush as the alcohol took hold. The anxiety I had felt watching Sarah and Ian faded, and really for the first time, I saw Willa as the very desirable woman she really was. Willa stood. "Let me put some more water in it," she insisted.

 I handed her the glass and sat back, trying to envision what she might look like naked. At the same time, another part of my brain was trying to tell me that if we had sex, it might very well mean the end of anything romantic developing between Sarah and me. I certainly didn't want to risk that, but . . .

 My thought processes were interrupted when Willa floated back into the room. Instead of her dress, she was wearing a diaphanous wrap. Even though the front of her body appeared to be shielded by two layers of the gauzy fabric, her nipples and surrounding areola were clearly visible, as was the dark mat of pubic hair covering her mons. I must have gawked like a schoolboy because when she saw my reaction, she smiled. "Now I really feel like a cocktail waitress," she said as she handed me my glass and sat on the sofa facing me with one leg folded beneath her.

 She leaned forward. I put the glass down and I gathered her into my arms. This time, as we kissed, she met my open mouth with hers. I sucked on her lower lip, and then slid my tongue into her mouth, caressing her tongue and her inner mouth. She pushed her chest against me, and began to explore the outline of my rapidly stiffening cock through my trousers with her free hand.

 I pushed her back on the sofa so I could lean forward and delicately touch the end of her engorged nipple through the wrap she was wearing with the moist tip of my extended tongue. She shivered, and I felt goosebumps rising on her arms. "That tickles," she said. Then, "Let me up. I know where we'll be more comfortable." 




My Loving Family Ch. 10



Not bothering to try to conceal the lump that was painfully distending the front of my pants, I stood. Taking my hand, she led me into her bedroom. "Close the door," she said. 

 I did. When I turned, I saw that the bed had already been turned down. Willa was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. She held out her welcoming arms, and as I sat next to her, put her arms around my neck, and pulled my head down hers. Our lips met again, this time more hungrily as we each attempted to devour the other.

 Breaking our contact, Willa leaned back and looked at me. "You're a really good kisser, Pete, but don't you think you're a little overdressed?"

 Reluctantly, I released her and stood. While I slipped my tie off and unbuttoned my shirt, Willa was unfastening my belt. She unbuttoned my waist band, and I watched as she slowly lowered my zipper. She looked up at me. "This is the part I like best," she said. "You men are all different, but all so beautiful."

 Then she let my pants fall around my ankles and slowly lifted the waistband of my Jockey shorts over my straining cock. I thought she would take the end of it in her mouth, but instead, she slid my foreskin back and forth in her warm hand and said, "I can't wait to feel this in me, Pete. Please hurry. I'm so hot I can barely stand it!"

 I sat next to her, and quickly removed my shoes and trousers. Then it was my turn to lie back and extend my arms. Her wrap floated to the floor, and Willa eagerly fell forward, mashing her soft breasts against my bare chest and her belly against my rigid manhood. I took her in a tight embrace as she squirmed against me, her body between my spread legs.

 "Oh, my God, Pete! Feel how wet I am!" As she spoke, she straddled my right leg, rubbing her hot, soggy mons on my thigh. I had just about reached my limits, too, and I pulled her up on the bed with me, luxuriating briefly in the feel of her warm trembling body against mine before I rolled her over on her back.

 Say what you will about the various sexual positions men and women can enjoy, and no matter how loudly more sophisticated lovers may scoff at the "missionary" position, there is something so intimate about being able to gaze into each other's eyes, and to exchange deep kisses while a male member is exploring the depths of his partner's body, that I prefer it above all others.

 My first experience with Willa was like that. Even before I managed to squirm into position above her, she had eagerly raised her spread legs and now rested them on my shoulders. Her hand found my probing sword, and inserted its tip into her cunt.

 I'm always a bit cautious the first time I fuck a new woman because all women are different. Some women, even though they may have had children, are so tight or in some cases so dry, that a fast penetration can be very painful. Therefore, I was careful until I felt my cockhead pop through her inner labia. Then Willa went crazy!

 She reached down and seized my ass with both hands, and while hunching herself up to give me the best possible line of approach, quite literally pulled me into her, moaning loudly as she did so. It took only a moment before our bodies were tightly joined. I paused to savor the most glorious feeling humans can experience while my cock soaked deep in her body, bathed in her hot juices.

 However, Willa was an impatient lover, and quickly began urging me to greater efforts by moving her pelvis against me. Slowly at first, I began to respond by slowly moving myself in that time-old dance of love. my slippery cock sliding easily back and forth in her clasping tunnel.

 She continued to urge me to more strenuous thrusting, and soon I was recklessly slamming myself in and out of her as fast as possible! The greater my efforts, the more abandoned she became, throwing her head wildly from side to side, while she pumped herself vigorously up to meet each of my thrusts. 

 All too soon, I felt the telltale gripping in the small of my back signaling the beginning of my ejaculation. Her eyes widened as she felt my cock stiffen even more as it become even more engorged, and suddenly, I began to spasm, flooding her cunt with my hot seed.

 When she felt my cock begin to erupt, her eyes grew wider still, and her body stiffened. A look of intense concentration crossed her face, and suddenly her stomach muscles began to ripple beneath me. She closed her eyes, and gave a long sigh. 

 I held her trembling body in a close embrace until I felt her begin to relax. Then I kissed her again -- a soft, lover's kiss. She responded by gripping me even more tightly while flexing her pelvis against mine, trying to milk the last fading sensations from our coupling. 

 "God, Pete, that was goood!"

 Still trying to catch my breath, I could only nod a silent assent.

 "You're getting heavy; let's roll over," Willa whispered.

 Holding her tightly, I rolled us to my left and promptly fell asleep.

(To be continued)             



My Loving Family Ch. 11



Synopsis: Ian fixes Peter up with a blind date. Peter is stunned when he discovers that Sarah is Ian's date. Nevertheless, he manages to rationalize away his jealous feelings and has a very satisfactory session with Willa (Sarah's house mate).

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Eleven

 It must have been much later -- I had no idea what time -- when I woke to find myself sleeping with my arm around a warm, soft body, my hand cupping a full breast. I was momentarily confused, thinking at first that I was back in Ft. Resolution, and that my bedmate was Moonface Nelly. Then I remembered the peculiar turn of events the previous night when, quite unexpectedly, I had found myself fucking Sarah's friend, Willa.

 As my memory came flooding back, I realized suddenly that if Sarah knew what I had done with Willa, I could kiss any hope of a future relationship with her goodbye. Of all the dumb things I had ever done -- and there was a long list of dumb things to choose from -- bedding Willa had to be near the top of the list!

 I didn't know whether Sarah had returned to the apartment but I couldn't afford to take any chances. As carefully as possible, I disentangled myself from Willa's lush body, and slipped quietly out of bed. Then I crawled around to Willa's side, and by the dim glow of a night light, found my shirt, pants, shoes and one sock.

 I didn't take the time to search for my underwear or the other sock. Instead, I crept to the door, dragging my clothes behind me, quietly opened it, and escaped into the living room where I quickly dressed, found my coat, and feeling like a burglar, slipped out of the apartment.

 Once on the street, I began walking toward the cluster of bright lights on the horizon. I suppose I must have walked a mile or more -- I know I raised a hell of a blister on my right foot -- the one without a sock -- before a cruising cab came down the empty street. 

 When I heard it approaching, I stepped out into the street and flagged it down. When the driver saw how disheveled I looked, he grinned knowingly. "Looks like her husband came home early," he said.

 I grunted some sort of noncommittal response and gave him the name of my hotel. In less than five minutes, he pulled up in front of the brightly lit entrance. According to the clock over the registration desk, it was 3:30 in the morning. 

 I quickly walked through the deserted lobby, entered an open elevator, and soon was back in my room and my own bed. Only then did I remember that I had forgotten my necktie! I was sure, if Sarah saw it, that she would recognize it. I might as well have left a note. I tried to remember if it was in the living room or (hopefully) in Willa's bedroom. With that dismal thought in mind, I drifted off to sleep.

 Promptly at 7:00, the telephone rang. It was the desk clerk making my wake-up call. Two hours later, I was back in Mr. Bose's office shaking hands again with Ian. Surreptitiously, I studied his face and demeanor, looking for clues that might reveal how and where he had spent the night. All I saw, however, was a clean shaven young man, at least ten years my junior, who was excited about catching a noon flight to Toronto on the first leg of his return trip to London.

 The morning session lasted only an hour and half. Then we shook hands all around and said our farewells. Ian left to return to his hotel. I made a beeline to the lobby where I found a pay phone and quickly dialed Sarah's number, waiting with a mixture of dread and anticipation for her to pick up the receiver.

 "Hello?"

 "Hi, Sarah," I said, "this is Pete. Are we on for tonight, I hope?"

 We quickly settled on a time to meet at Brown's restaurant. I had the rest of the afternoon to kill, so I popped into a movie theater where I spent a couple of hours enjoying a spritely musical. Then I returned to my hotel and spent the rest of the afternoon organizing my papers and jotting notes to myself concerning the negotiations I had been involved in. Finally, I showered and made myself presentable.

 I still hadn't decided how to reconcile the deep feelings I had for Sarah with her dating Ian, much less my own behavior with Willa -- or Cynthia the night before. I didn't try to sugarcoat that. I had been ambushed by the Boses, but I had gone quite willingly with Willa to their apartment, knowing full well what was likely to happen once we were inside the door. Frankly, I was both guilt stricken and remorseful when I met Sarah that evening.

 As usual, Sarah was stunning in both her dress and style, but I was scarcely aware of it because I was too busy trying to read whatever inscrutable message lay behind her sparkling green eyes. I was immeasurably relieved, therefore, when Sarah greeted me with an enthusiastic hug and a warm kiss. "I'm really selfish, Pete. I'm so glad to have you all to myself this evening!"

 This was not the reproachful Sarah I had feared. My relief must have been tangible, because as we walked side by side to a table near the corner of the cocktail lounge, she put her arm around my waist and gave me a special little hug as if to reassure me. At that moment, I knew I was going to ask Sarah to marry me.

 Later that evening, instead of going to the Cave again, we decided to have a nightcap in the hotel lounge. I was lost in thought, trying to think of a tactful way of declaring myself that would not require a definitive reply from her -- frankly, I was suddenly terrified of a flat rejection because I knew things between us would never, ever, be the same again. 

 She broke the silence. She reached across the little cocktail table and took my right hand between hers. "Something's on your mind, Pete. Maybe I can help?"

 Glumly, I nodded. "I . . .I don't exactly know how to say this . . ." I began.

 She interrupted me. "Pete, if it's about last night . . .?"

 "No, dear," -- the endearment slipped out unbidden --

 "Is it Ian, then?"

 "I don't know," I said. "I think it's about a lot of things because. . I'm just finding out how much I really care for you!"

 Her eyes softened. Her grip on my hand tightened. "That's the nicest, most flattering thing I've heard in a long, long time." She paused, then continued, "Because I'm beginning to feel the same way about you!"

 I felt almost faint with relief. One part of me wanted to stand on the table and loudly share my good fortune with the other customers in the room. Another part wanted to take Sarah tenderly, lovingly, in my arms and kiss every part of her treasured face; her lips, her nose, her cheeks, even her precious eyelids. Instead, I tightly gripped her two slender hands between mine, and I felt tears burning in my eyes.

 "Let's get married," I blurted.

 Her happy face became suddenly still, almost solemn. "It's way too early to talk about marriage, Pete. There are things we have yet to find out about each other. At least, there are things about me that you don't know and that I don't know how to explain."

 Is she secretly married to someone else? Is she suffering a fatal disease? What can it be? Just then the waitress interrupted us and I ordered another round. Thankful for the temporary distraction, which gave me an opportunity to gather my thoughts, I turned back to her. "Darling, if you feel just a small part of the attraction I feel for you, there is nothing --nothing at all -- that we can't work out!"

 "I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sarah replied. I heard the bitterness in her tone. Oh, oh. Something is wrong!

 "It's a long story," Sarah continued, "and one I'm sure will cause you to change your mind about me. You see, Pete, everything is not how it appears on the surface."

 "If you're talking about Ian . . ." I said.    "Ian is just a small part of the problem . . ." she began. But again I interrupted her.

 I felt myself flushing with deep seated emotions, and answered more heatedly than I intended. "I don't understand," I said. "I mean, if you screwed Ian, so what? I screwed Willa." My God! What did I just say?

 Instead of recoiling in horror, Sarah smiled sadly. "I know you did," she said quietly. "That's the way we planned it."

 "What??"

 "Oh, God, how can I explain so you'll understand and not hate me?" she said, almost despairingly.

 "Explain what?"

 "All right, you asked for it! I've never told this to anyone before!" Then she told me about Graham and Nonnie, and how she had been seduced on the train, and how it became easier and easier for her to meet and have sex with casual acquaintances until, she concluded, "After fifteen years of casual sex, I realized that sex, for me, had become a drug; one to which I was (and am) addicted.

 "I have to be honest with you, Pete. I think I'll always crave variety in my sex partners. That's why marriage for me is out of the question. I could never be faithful to one man!"

 I was literally stunned. I simply didn't know how to respond. It had never occurred to me that sex could be addictive. I must have been very obvious in my reaction to her explanation -- I was going to say "confession," but to me, a person who confesses something is implying remorse. There was no remorse is Sarah's passionate explanation.

 While I was searching for a suitable response, Sarah added, "What about you, Pete? Before you get all righteous, what about you and Willa? I'm sure there have been other women as well since your Amy left you."

 Despite myself, remembering how I had crept out of Willa's bed, I found myself nodding. "Did you set that up?"

 "Not exactly," Sarah replied. "I didn't know you were going to spend the night in our apartment. That could have been awkward if I had brought Ian home, too." I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile in her eyes as she spoke, and I'll admit I had to smile at the idea of meeting Ian in their kitchen this morning, drinking a cup of coffee.

 "You're putting a heavy load on me, dear, but since we're laying our cards on the table, I might as well tell you how I spend Monday night." Then I described the evening I had spent the previous night in the Bose penthouse, except I didn't feel obliged to tell her about "Roscoe's" peculiar behavior.    "Let's not waste any more time, Pete," Sarah said. "Let's go upstairs. I'd invite you to the apartment, but the girls will be there tonight, and even without them, I'd guess you might feel a trifle inhibited when you saw Willa."

 Later, as we were lying on our backs, holding hands while stretched full length on the bed, Sarah turned her head and kissed my ear. "Do you hate me, Pete?"

 "God, no!" I said. "It's just that I'm still trying to sort things out."

 She released my hand, and cupped her hand around my shrunken, sticky cock and scrotum. "At least Junior, here, didn't seem very upset." When she touched me, she triggered an altogether strange reaction. "Just out of curiosity, dear, how many . . .?"

 "How many men?"    As she spoke, I felt the faint stirrings of arousal. "Yes. Do you have any idea?"

 "Not really. I haven't thought about it. They were almost all one-night stands. It would be several hundred, I expect. What's this?"

 Her gentle hand had felt my cock twitch at the thought of her lying naked, legs in the air, under a faceless multitude of men strenuously giving as much as she got. "Don't tell me it excites you to think of me with other men . . ."

 Somewhat ashamed by my involuntary reaction, I silently nodded.

 Sarah hoisted herself up on one elbow so she could peer into my face. "You're taking this better than I thought you would," she said. Then she added, with a sly little smile, "Maybe when I know you better I'll tell you some bedtime stories."

 My cock really jumped at that promise. Sarah softly laughed and reached down to bestow a soft kiss on my cock. "That's going to have to hold you until next time, lover," she said, adding with another little smile, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I've got to go home." She slipped off the bed, quickly dressed, kissed me on the end of my nose, and was gone.

 All the way back to Ft. Resolution, my mind was so completely preoccupied trying to sort out my relationship with Sarah, that the conductor had to ask three times for my ticket before I heard him. My new briefcase, bulging with copies of the papers our long meetings had produced, lay forgotten in the overhead rack.

 Sarah had left no doubt in my mind about her ability -- or willingness -- to forsake all others, to use the quaint language customary at wedding ceremonies. But neither had she rejected my proposal out of hand. The door was still open -- on her terms.

 The only question confronting me was whether I could accept those terms. On the one hand, I remembered the agonies I had suffered when I first began to suspect that Amy was cheating, and the black despair that had enveloped me when she actually ran away with her latest lover.

 On the other hand, the circumstances were entirely different. I was no longer an idealistic youngster with entirely unrealistic expectations. Also, Sarah was entirely unlike Amy in virtually every way. One day perhaps, with luck and the wisdom born of experience, Amy might acquire the maturity and inner beauty that Sarah possessed in such great abundance, although now, in the harsh light of remembered small deficiencies, it seemed likely that she lacked the necessary intelligence and character.    And there was, in addition, a certain compelling eroticism about my mental image of Sarah's couplings with faceless strangers. I even wondered, for a moment, if she would ever let me watch her fuck other men?

 Jack and I spend a day with our lawyer in Ft. Resolution reviewing the various proposals and stipulations contained in the papers I had brought back for Jack's approval. One issue regarding a required easement that we were evidently obliged to negotiate for a road to the mine across Crown lands seemed ambiguous, so our lawyer felt obliged to call and resolve the question with counsel for the London investors. Once that point was clarified, Jack and I signed the relevant documents, and sent the originals to Winnipeg for an endorsement by Bose, Rothchild before being sent on to London.

 A month later, we each received cheques for £20,000 as an advance against royalties. After paying our debts, Jack and I celebrated for three days, at the end of which I was sick, tired, and feeling like hell, but we still had money in the bank -- over $18,000 apiece.

 Jack and I shook hands for the last time at the train depot, and I boarded the train to Winnipeg. One chapter of my life had closed and I was opening the first page of an entirely new chapter.

 Sarah and Nonnie met me at the train station. For the first time, seeing them standing side by side, I realized how similar they were in size, coloring, and general physical appearance. They looked much more like twin sisters than mother and daughter.

 I had called Sarah when the money had arrived from London, and had told her I was returning to Winnipeg; that my prospecting days were over and that Jack and I had dissolved our partnership. Then I had called her a second time during our three-day celebration and again asked her to marry me. I only vaguely remembered making that call, but somehow her reply had stuck in my memory. "Ask me again when you're sober," she had said.

 And I had, shortly before boarding the train. Her answer was still evasive, however. "We'll talk about it when you get here," she had said. 

 Consequently, I had managed to work myself into a fine state of mind when, at last, the train had pulled into the station in Winnipeg. I had not expected her to meet me, much less to bring Nonnie with her. Suddenly the significance of them coming to meet me became crystal clear! We were a family! She was saying "yes!!"

 I dropped my bag and sprinted the last 100 feet like a teenager, gathering both women at once in my arms and indiscriminately kissing them both. Sarah's lips tasted salty from the tears on her cheek, and Nonnie quickly, and with teenage embarrassment, disentangled herself and went back to retrieve my bag while her mother and I welcomed one another with a quick series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

 It's always possible, of course, that part of the salty taste was from my own emotional response to her dramatic acceptance. Nevertheless, I was mildly embarrassed when I realized that my body was reacting in quite a different way as I tasted once again, the flavors of her mouth and lips. My cock was beginning to swell.

 Sarah felt it. She released my neck and leaned back in my arms so she could study my face. This thrust her pelvis and lower belly hard against me. Then, slowly, she swung her hips back and forth and happily grinned, "You really are glad to see me, aren't you?"

 "I sure am," I said as I pulled her slender body close to mine again. This time, however, I realized we were blocking traffic, so I released her. Hand in hand, we walked with the crowd toward Nonnie, who was waiting for us at the gate, my duffle bag over her shoulder.

 "I'll bet you're hungry," Sarah said as she expertly swung her car out into the traffic. "Would you like to eat? Or can you wait until we get to the apartment?"

 Whoa! "Who said anything about going to your apartment?"

 A rosy flush crossed Sarah's face. "I guess I just assumed. . ."

 I was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. It's just that you've had time to get used to the idea that we'll have a life together, while for me, it's a brand new idea. Of course, if you want me to come to your apartment, I'm more than willing. I'm easily led!" I was watching her profile as she maneuvered through the downtown traffic. When she turned to look at me, I smiled to show my willingness to follow her lead.

 "I hope you're not saying that just to be polite. . ."

 "Not at all, dear. I guess because I wouldn't have been bold enough to suggest it, I was surprised that you did. I assume, of course, that we're both talking about the same thing?"

 "About you coming to live with us? Of course. Why waste money on hotel bills? We've come this far. Let's see how much further we can go. I'm assuming, of course, that you intend to make an honest woman of me?"

 "As soon as possible, dear," I said. "Win, lose or draw, we're in this together for the long haul. There is one tiny little problem, however."

 "Oooh?"

 "I never divorced Amy. I have no idea where she is, or even if she's still alive. I think I'd better see a lawyer about that before we apply for a marriage license."

 "I suppose, in a way, you're right, but why complicate things? Can't we just pretend you never met her?" 

 "Ordinarily, I'd agree with you. But . . .," I paused, trying to organize what I was going to say next ". . .suppose the mine really begins to pay off big time. Amy's got relatives in the Yellowknife District. Some of them may be in touch with her. We don't want her showing up to demand a share of it, or if I were to get shot by a jealous husband, I sure as hell wouldn't want two widows fighting over my estate!"

 "I see your point." Sarah turned to look at me and smiled as if to say, 'I really do understand.' "I'll ask around at work tomorrow for a good domestic relations lawyer. I'm sure some of the girls will know of one."

 Willa and Ruth were out shopping when we arrived at the apartment. Nonnie carried my bag into her mother's room, while we paused in the middle of the living room to exchange a hug and a kiss. "It's going to be so good to have a man around the house," Sarah whispered into my mouth, while her naughty little hand groped the front on my pants.

 Nonnie had been watching from the doorway. When she saw her mother fondle my growing cock, she reacted with typical teenage disgust. "Come on, mother (with heavy emphasis on the last syllable), at least let the poor guy sit down! You know what he's got down there -- if you can remember, that is!"




My Loving Family Ch. 11



Nonnie's indirect reference to her mother's sexual appetite caused Sarah to blush. "You go set the table, young lady! When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!"

 I followed Sarah into the tiny kitchen. Sarah then turned to me. "She's 18 but she thinks she's 26! She may have trouble adjusting to you, Pete, because she discovered sex about a year ago, and I've had her on the Pill ever since." Sarah sighed. "I'm afraid she takes after me in that respect."

 I watched Sarah fill three bowls with steaming hot vegetable soup and I helped carry them to the table. Nonnie was out of sight. "Lunchtime, Nonnie," Sarah called.

 A sullen Nonnie emerged from her room. "Soup again?" she muttered. Sarah ignored her. "You sit there, Pete, at the head of the table. This way, Nonnie and I can kick at each other under the table and you'll never know."

 Nonnie smiled. "How come it's always me with the bruised shins?" Peace was restored.

 After lunch, Sarah and I sat on the sofa catching up on everything that had happened at the mine. Nonnie was carelessly sprawled in an overstuffed chair looking at a magazine, and openly displaying her slender thighs under her short skirt. I could see the potential for serious problems with her. As I said earlier, she was as tall as her mother, but she lacked her mother's heavy bosom or womanly hips. Nevertheless, she had the potential to be as lovely as her mother, and already was displaying a well filled sweater.

 Tiring of her magazine, she soon left the room. In a few minutes she returned, putting on her jacket. "I'm going over to Sandy's place for a while," she announced, loudly closing the front door behind her as she left the apartment.

 "Now you're at me mercy, me little turtle-dove," Sarah said as she unzipped my fly and slid her hand through the opening. "You've been teasing me with this thing ever since you got off the train. Now it's my turn to do a little teasing of my own."

 I almost came the instant I felt her cool fingers close around my rigid cock. She slowly extracted it through my underwear and allowed it to stand tall and proud above my opened trousers.

 "You have such a beautiful cock," she said quietly as she slowly slid my elastic foreskin back. "I wonder if I like it better this way," as my glistening purple head was completely exposed, ". . .or this way?" as she pulled my foreskin up so it completely covered the end of my cock. She smiled. "Now you look like a little boy -- a very big little boy.

 "I think I like it this way, best," she said, again sliding my foreskin back, completely exposing my ultra sensitive glans. "Now it looks like a strawberry icecream cone. I wonder if it tastes like one?" She leaned over. Her hair formed an auburn halo in my lap and I felt the wet warmth of her mouth as her lips closed over my cock and she began tickling the extraordinarily sensitive underside of my glans with the tip of her tongue.

 "You're going to make me come," I whispered desperately.

 "Ummm phum," was the only reply I got as I felt the familiar glorious thrill throughout my body as my seed began its exquisite journey down my urethra, through my spasming cock and into her mouth. I had attempted, in a half-hearted way, to lift her head when I felt that journey begin, but she had resisted me, and instead had begun to pump my cock more vigorously until I literally exploded in her mouth.

 "God, I'm sorry. . .," I began.

 "Ummm Phum," she said, as she continued to wash my shrinking (and now hyper sensitive) cock with her tongue and lips.

 She raised her head from my limp noodle, her eyes shining to match the broad smile on her face. "That was gooood!" she said, licking her lips. 

 I began to apologize again, and again she cut me off. "Shhhh. When you're going down on a girl, don't you try to make her come with just your lips and tongue?"

 I nodded, "Yes but . . ."

 "No buts about it," Sarah said firmly. "Girls -- or at least some of us -- get a big charge out of it when we can stimulate a man with our mouths and tongues to where he shoots off. You enjoy tasting a woman's juices, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Why do you think we're any different? Woman juice is intended merely to oil the wheels as it were, but man juice contains the essence of life and therefore is very, very precious."

 "I guess this was the first time you've come in a girl's mouth. Right? Well, get used to it. Hell, in time you might even come to enjoy it!"

 I was tempted to tell her about my bizarre experience with her boss, but decided against it. I didn't want to upset her relationship with him -- and of course, at the time, I was quite unaware of the real relationship she had with Roscoe Bose and their firm, Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons.

 Willa and Ruth returned to the apartment burdened with packages in mid afternoon. Willa greeted me pleasantly enough, but without any of the passion of our earlier encounter. I was surprised by how grown-up Ruth appeared. At 16, like Nonnie, she seemed far more mature than her years indicated. 

 I suppose I was influenced in part by her precocious appearance because even though I knew three years separated the girls, Ruth seemed much more "developed" physically than Nonnie. Already, her hips had broadened with a womanly flare, and her bust line seemed fully developed. I'll bet she was exceedingly popular with the boys at school, especially if she treated them to the same flirtatious smile with which she greeted me.    Nonnie returned shortly before dinner time. To celebrate my return to Winnipeg, and to suitably mark the beginning of an entirely new chapter in my life, I prevailed upon the ladies to allow me the privilege of escorting them to dinner at Brown's. 

 At first, much to Ruthie's obvious disappointment, Willa attempted to demur, arguing that this should be a special night for just Sarah and me, but I insisted that since we were all in this together, we should share dinner together. Sarah agreed with me and insisted that the others accompany us.

 Both Sarah and Willa gave their daughters sips of wine during dinner, which relaxed any inhibitions the girls may have felt as a result of my presence. Indeed, as we were having dessert, Nonnie, slightly flushed with the wine, looked appraisingly at me and then asked, "Pete, would it be OK if I called you Dad?" Eyes downcast, she continued, "I've never had a dad before, and I think it'd be neat."

 I felt immensely flattered. "Of course, Nonnie," I said. "That's a real honor. I'm flattered to be your dad."

 Ruthie, not to be left out, piped up, "If you're going to be Nonnie's dad, how about if I call you Uncle Pete?"

 "Thank you Ruth," I said. "It makes me very proud to become Nonnie's dad and your uncle. You're both making me feel very welcome. Thank you both!" An important bridge had been crossed.

 Later that evening, after a prolonged and sensuous honeymoon fuck during which we thoroughly explored one another's bodies and levels of sexual endurance, and finally lay exhausted, tightly wrapped together, Sarah whispered into my mouth, "Do you really love me, Pete?"

 "What kind of a question is that? Of course I do!" I searched her face for clues in the dim glow of the night light and gave her slender body an extra squeeze to emphasize my declaration.

 "No, I mean really, really, 'I'd walk over live coals for you' kind of love?"

 With a sudden chill of foreboding, I realized Sarah was being utterly, completely sincere. I knew she was on the verge of telling me something -- probably a deep dark secret out of her past -- and I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear it. Nevertheless, this was something that was obviously of great importance to her, and the least I could do was encourage her to unburden herself. "I sense you want to tell me something, but are afraid of my reaction."

 She silently nodded.

 "Well, darling, I have no idea what your terrible secret could be, but the only thing you could say that would make me leave you is 'get out of here!'" I gave her an extra squeeze for emphasis.

 "OK, then, here goes." She took a deep breath, and rapidly said, "I won't be home tomorrow night. I've arranged with Willa to keep you company if you like."

 What the hell?? "What do you mean, you won't be home?" I demanded.

 "I sometimes do extra work for the company," she said. "Often times, it means I won't be finished until sometime well after midnight."

 "I don't understand."

 "Of course not, darling. But look around. Even though I'm now director of personnel, do you think I could afford to keep a three bedroom apartment in this building on my salary?"

 The significance of that remark went straight over my head. Instead, I said, "There are two of you . . ." 

 "Yes, but Willa works only once in a while. She does have a steady income, but it's like your mine -- she's potentially a very rich woman, but at the moment, she receives only a modest stipend from her late husband's investments."

 "What sort of extra work do you do?"

 "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, darling," she said, kissing the tip of my nose. "Mr. Bose made me sign a paper years ago that literally sealed my lips. I couldn't tell you, not even if you were my mother!" She kissed my nose again. "I'm not even supposed to let you stay here -- but," her mouth tightened, "he'd have to fire me before I'd ask you to leave! But please, no more questions."

 Of course, I didn't like it, but I was only too keenly aware of my status as a guest in Sarah's home, and that meant we played by her rules. I liked it even less the following evening when I watched her preparing for her night-time duties.

 I had been out for a walk to familiarize myself with the neighborhood. The bathroom was still steamy when I returned. Sarah was standing in profile, leaning forward in front of the mirror over the dressing table, applying her make-up.    I paused, absorbing the sensual profile she unconsciously presented. She wore only thigh high patterned dark hose, which accentuated the beautiful sweep down her back, around her tight little bottom, and down the backs of her slender thighs. I admired the shape of her bottom almost as much as I did the incredibly sweet curve of her upswept breasts.

 I could almost see the moist mat of auburn hair covering the mysterious delta between her thighs. Despite myself, I felt my manhood twitch. She saw my reflection in the mirror, and swung around. I felt a sudden wave of desire, and I stepped toward her, but she shook her head.

 "I don't have time to play right now," she said. "I'll be late as it is. Willa's in the kitchen fixing your supper. Why don't you go in there and tell her how horny you are?"

 Reluctantly, I turned and walked to the door. Then I turned so I could watch her dress. First, she powdered and daubed a musky scent between her breasts, on her softly rounded belly, behind her ears, inside her elbows, and inside her thighs. Then she carefully pulled on a loose, gauzy black blouse that ordinarily would have been worn over a conservative black bra. Her pink nipples looked like stop signs under that thin, almost transparent material.

 The last garment she selected was a leather miniskirt. The skirt was about 14 inches long and reached just above mid thigh. Watching herself in the mirror, she leaned forward, backward, turned, raised her leg. Only when she bent deeply forward did the skirt pull above her stocking tops. 

 I couldn't help myself. "It looks to me like you're getting ready for a date instead going to work," I said, much more harshly than I intended. Sarah flushed a deep red.

 "Pete, I'm going to say this to you only once again! No more questions! Do you understand?" There was no mistaking the angry tone of her voice, or the unspoken menace in her words.

 I was thunderstruck. I had three options, none of them happy ones. I could go into the bedroom, pack my bag and leave. Or I could go into the living room and sulk. Or I could turn to Willa for comfort and sympathy. The last option was the only one that made any sense at all. I went into the kitchen. At least that spared me the anguish of watching my beloved Sarah walk out the door, and undoubtedly into the arms of another man.

(To be continued) 



My Loving Family Ch. 12



Synopsis: Peter has moved into Sarah's apartment and has asked her to marry him. She's afraid of his reaction when he learns the nature of her "extra" duties, but has confessed a strong and abiding interest in sexual variety and tells him she could never be faithful. Then Pete watches her dress for an evening "assignment." He tells her it looks like she's preparing for a date, and she tells him she won't answer any more questions.

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Twelve

  Despite Willa's best efforts -- and a half bottle of that wonderful single malt whisky Sarah evidently kept for special occasions -- I was disconsolate. I could not rid myself of haunting memories of the agonies I had suffered when I first began to realize that Amy was cheating on me with a steady stream of truck drivers at the truck stop where she worked as a waitress.

 Eventually, I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room. The next thing I knew, I smelled fresh coffee. Sarah was gently rocking my shoulder. "Jim," she said softly, "why did you sleep out here?"

 Instead of answering her, I attempted to sit up, and was rewarded with a blinding headache which made it difficult to open my eyes. My mouth was dry and my lips parched. I pried one eye open. Sarah was standing in front of me, wearing her dressing gown. 

 "Jim, we really should talk about this. . ."

 I shook my head. "Not now," I croaked.

 "Here. Take a sip of this; it'll make you feel better," she said, wrapping my hands around a hot cup of coffee.

 I took a tentative sip. Ahhh, she had spiked it with a shot of whisky. I rolled the liquid around in my mouth, and swallowed it. Almost immediately, I felt warmth spreading throughout my body, and soon took another sip, and another.

 I was beginning to look forward to life again when the last of the coffee royal she had prepared disappeared. Sarah took the empty cup into the kitchen and returned almost immediately with a refilled cup. This time there was no whisky in it.

 "Would you like some breakfast?"

 I felt my stomach lurch at the mention of food, and shook my head.

 "Well, I'm not going to the office until noon," Sarah said, sitting in the chair facing the sofa. "Let's just make this a slow, lazy morning. We're alone. The girls have gone to school and Willa's gone for a job interview. When you feel up to it, I think we should talk about last night. Our conversation just before I left has been on my mind, and I'm worried that you might think I'm fooling around on you."

 I glumly nodded. "That's exactly what I think," I muttered.

 "Well, I'm not," Sarah said firmly. "I know how it must look to you -- how it might look to anyone -- but last night was strictly business."

 She correctly read the skepticism on my face. "No, really. I mean it," she said. "I guess you're just going to have to take my word for it for now," she added. "As I told you last night, my contract is very explicit. I can't discuss it. Besides, last night might not happen again for weeks. I never know.

 "I told you," she went on, "right from the very beginning, that my sexual needs were unusual. I won't deny that I had sex last night, but it was with a man I scarcely knew and who I'll never see again. In fact, I'm not even sure I can remember his name!"

 As she uttered those words, I felt my stomach turn over. For a moment, I thought I might vomit, but I managed to swallow the bile that was surging into my throat. At the same time, as that urge receded, I was surprised to feel a tiny glow of pride as I reflected that the woman who had chosen me was so desirable to other men.    At the same time, I was strangely aroused, and even felt my cock twitch as I imagined her naked body writhing under a faceless stranger.

 I suppose my face must have reflected that series of conflicting emotions, because she suddenly grinned and flipping her dressing gown open, spread her legs, showing me her pussy. "See? I haven't suffered any irreparable harm. It's just the same as it was this time yesterday. She looked meaningfully at my crotch where my cock was beginning to swell. "But the idea seems to have a different effect on you. Do you think we ought to go into the bedroom and talk this over?"

 Without waiting for an answer, she stood, took my hand, and led me into our bedroom. She slipped out of her robe, and stretched out on the bed. "Come here, you big lummox, and make love to me!"

 Something in her manner warned me that this was no time for jokes about headaches -- even though my headache was no joke! I quickly stripped and dropped beside her on the bed. She rolled on her side facing me. 

 She reached for my hardening cock with one hand while pulling my body tight against hers. She fastened her wet, open mouth on mine, and I felt the tip of her tongue touch the corners of my mouth. "You may be upset," she whispered, "but my friend down here isn't!" She squeezed my cock for emphasis.

 I was fully erect -- my cock was so swollen that my foreskin was beginning to retract and I was beginning to feel an urgent need to sink that distended member into the soft, wet solace that rested between her thighs.

 "If this is what happens when you think I've been with another man, what would happen if I gave you some of the details?"

 My cock answered for itself, and I knew I must be dripping precum on her hand. She pulled away, slightly, and slowly licked my precum off her hand. "How much detail would you like? Would you like me to tell you what his erection felt like when we were dancing?"

 Instantly, I pictured her unknown lover dirty dancing with her, his cock rubbing her belly, his hands cupping her ass, pulling her tight against him.

 "Or how he tasted after he opened my bra and began to play with my tits?"

 How he tasted?? Strange, intense feelings rippled through me as I pictured her taking his member in her mouth. On the one hand, a dart of painful jealousy caused my stomach to churn -- she had never offered to take me in her mouth -- but at the same time, I was incredibly turned on by the vision she had given me; so aroused in fact, that I knew I had to find solace for my painfully throbbing erection. 

 Impatiently, I tried to roll her on her back, but she resisted. "I want to get this all out into the open," she said firmly. "Right now, before you begin to get all righteous on me!" "Would you like to see me with another man?"

 Even though her question at any other time would have seriously jolted me, because I would have said anything at that moment to gain access to her sweet pussy, I muttered "Yes." But at the same time, strangely, I found the idea of watching another man make love to her -- of her legs resting on his shoulders while his glistening cock slid in and out of her grasping tunnel, probing her depths -- so titillating that I nearly ejaculated!

 My response was hardly necessary. My extended cock told her what she needed to know. She rolled on her back, lifting her spread legs high in the air. "Here it is, dear. All yours for the taking!"

 I gratefully sank my tortured cock as deeply into her body as the law of physics allowed, and rested there, feeling her cunt muscles rippling against me. I suppose we remained locked in that position for a good minute or more, but then she began to move under me.

 "God, Jim, you have no idea how hot it makes me, knowing that you understand and accept my strange needs. I love you to pieces, darling, for that and for this," here she gave me a bump with her pelvis, "and just for being you!"

 She threw both arms around my neck and pulled my head down so she could give me another of her open mouthed kisses that never failed -- even now -- to ignite a spark in my scrotum.

 Later, as we rested in each other's arms trying to gain control over our breathing, I rolled us, still coupled, to the side. Sarah pulled her head back, her face suddenly still and solemn. "You do still love me, don't you, Jim?"

 As an answer, I pulled her slender body tightly against mine and held her as closely as I could. Then tenderly, lovingly, I kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose. "Now, more than ever, darling," I said. I meant it, too. "Let's get married."

 For a moment, I wasn't sure she had heard me because she gave no indication she had. Then she sat up, and leaned over me, a hand resting against the bed on either side of my head, while she peered down into my face.

 "Are you serious, Jim?"

 "I was never more serious in my life!"

 "Even knowing what you know about my 'needs'?"

 "Yes"

 "I can't give you an answer now, Jim. Let's wait six months; then if you still feel the same way, ask me again." She hadn't said yes, but neither had she said no.

 Then, briskly, as if she were putting the idea on a shelf in the back of a closet, she said, "Do me a favor. I'll feel a lot better when I'm out with someone knowing that you're being looked after, too. When I'm gone, I want you to sleep with Willa!"


 That startled me and I began to remonstrate with her, but she put her finger over my lips. "I'm not finished," she said. "We've talked about it and Willa is more than willing to be my substitute -- she's looking forward to it -- unless we happen to be double dating. But that's only happened twice before -- and the second time was with you and Ian."

 That ended our pillow talk. Then, as couples do from time to time, we began to discuss our finances. We both recognized that the advance against royalties I had received from the mine would not last indefinitely, and that it would be a year or more before the mine would be opened. I had to find a job, so the next morning, after Sarah left for work and the girls for school, Willa and I went our separate ways seeking jobs. You may recall that Jack and I had met while we were working as carpenter apprentices. Jack had dropped out early because of his fascination with prospecting for precious metals. I, on the other hand, had stayed the course, and was a qualified journeyman carpenter. Consequently, I began making the rounds of construction sites and carpenter shops. 

 My timing was bad. Virtually all outdoor construction in Manitoba ends with the beginning of winter, and no jobs in my trade were available. So I began to branch out, hoping to find something in a local door factory or one of the small cabinet shops in and around Winnipeg.

 I drew a blank at the door factory, but I had better luck when I applied at Winston's Cabinets. My training as a rough carpenter hardly qualified me as a cabinet maker, but it did open the door to a position as helper -- a position scorned by local framing carpenters.

 The pay wasn't great, but it was adequate. It enabled me to pay a portion of the rent and to buy the necessary groceries. Most importantly, it enabled me to regain some self respect. At least I was no longer a "kept" man.

 There was another bonus, as well. My boss was a redheaded Irishman named Rick O'Conner. He was a very skillful cabinet maker, and, as it turned out, one hell of a nice guy. We hit it off right from the beginning. I hadn't been working at Winston's more than a couple of weeks before he invited Sarah and me to join him and his wife on a drive up to Lake Winnipeg. It seems he had a boat up there that needed to be hauled out for the winter.

 Sarah jumped at the opportunity for an outing, especially since, despite the years she had lived in Winnipeg, she had never seen the lake. Besides, I suspect she was glad to leave Winnipeg behind, if only for a few hours.

 Saturday dawned bright and clear. We were in the midst of Indian summer, and it seemed more like June than October except sunrise was much later. When Paula and Rick arrived in their old sedan to pick us up, I was surprised to see that Rick's wife was a black woman with pleasant open features. I couldn't see much of her body, but I could tell at a glance that she was obviously well nourished.

 After we exchanged greetings, Paula turned to Sarah. "This is such a lovely day, I brought my swimsuit. Why don't you bring yours?"

 Sarah colored slightly. "To tell you the truth, Paula, I don't have one. I can't swim so I never felt the need for one."

 When we arrived at the lake, the first thing I saw was a large body of water similar to our Slave Lake with perhaps a dozen white spots distributed randomly over its surface. When Rick stopped the car, he turned around. "Hey, what do you say instead of going swimming, we take old "Fun Times" out for the last sail of the summer? There isn't much wind, but at least we'll have a chance do a little sun bathing."

 Sarah looked doubtful. "I've never been on a boat before," she said.

 "There's a first time for everything!" Rick replied. "What about you, Jim?"

 "This would be my first sailboat ride, but I'd like to try it. Wouldn't you like to, dear?" I said, turning toward Sarah.

 Sarah's expressive mouth tightened in a look of determination. "I'm not going to be a wet blanket," she said, "but remember, I can't swim."

 "That's why we carry life jackets," Rick said comfortably. He and Paula led the way toward a splintery dock that was surrounded by boats of all sizes and descriptions.

 "Wait a minute, folks," I said when I saw people clustered around a food stand. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right! Let me buy a picnic lunch for the four of us." 

 "That sounds delightful," Paula said. "You guys buy some sandwiches. And don't forget the beer! Sarah and I'll go on out to the boat."

 Rick and I trudged through the sand and joined the group milling around the food stand. We placed our orders, and stepped away from the counter. Rick nudged me and nodded his head toward a particularly spectacular blonde standing in a group of young people, beer bottle in hand, smiling and laughing with the rest. None of the women in the group were over-dressed, but she wore only three small triangles of bright red material; one on each nipple, and one guarding most of her mons Venus.

 "That's Karen Olerud," he said. "I don't see her husband around, but he's usually close by. His dad was old man Winston's partner."

 Just then the counter man called our number. We paid for our food and two six packs of beer. I would have liked to watch the blonde a little longer, but Sarah and Paula were waiting for us, so we made our way around beached boats and piles of sails and bedding, and all sorts of miscellaneous stuff piled on the beach between the boats. Everywhere I looked, people were industriously cleaning their boats and preparing them for winter.

 The wooden pier wasn't as crowded as it had originally appeared. "There she is," Rick said, indicating a sailboat near the end of the dock.

 Knowing little about boats, I really didn't know what I was looking at except for the exotic vision standing by Sarah's side. Paula had changed into a yellow string bikini top that barely contained her voluptuous breasts. Her mahogany coloration made Sarah, still wearing her shirt and shorts, seem almost unnaturally pale by comparison. As if she were aware of the unflattering comparison, Sarah had freshened her lipstick.

 I tried not to stare at Paula, but she was more than merely spectacular. She was earth mother. Her broad hips and heavy bosom, to say nothing of her soft thick lips, broad welcoming smile, and slightly slanted eyes, gave her an erotic aura that most women could only envy.

 Rick and I stepped aboard his little sloop --I shouldn't say "little," because his boat was big enough to have a small cabin and an inboard engine. He started the engine. Then he and Paula swiftly untied the mooring ropes which they looped over the pilings next to his boat. He stepped down into the cockpit and began backing his boat out of its slip while Paula stripped the covers off the sails.

 Once we were clear of the pier, he stopped the engine. Then he and Paula quickly raised the sails. The light breeze filled the sails, and the boat leaned slightly as she began moving through the water. The silence was so absolute after he shut the engine off that we could actually hear the water gurgling past the hull.

 Rick was in his element. He sat in the cockpit wearing only his shorts and a big grin, facing forward, his right hand carelessly holding the tiller. Almost as soon as the sails were set, Paula and Sarah went up to the front of the boat and lay on the deck, their heads in the shade offered by the sail while their bodies were exposed to the sun.

 Paula removed her top. "I know it'd be hard to tell," she said, "but I don't want any tan lines. Hand me the lotion, please."

 I watched, transfixed, as Paula gently rubbed sun lotion into her soft breasts. Her black nipples, stimulated by her hands, formed sharp spikes that were clearly visible even though I was standing a good fifteen feet behind her.

 I felt my cock twitch, and suddenly began hoping that Sarah would follow suit. For some reason, I was as eager to show Sarah's tits to Rick as I had been to see Paula's soft mounds. As if she had read my mind, Sarah abruptly sat up. "I don't need tan lines, either," she said as she unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her arms out of the sleeves. "Hand me that oil, will you please?"

 Rick was standing by this time, openly staring at the two semi-nude women, watching Sarah rub the lotion into her soft breasts. I couldn't help but glance down and was secretly gratified to see a telltale lump in the front of his shorts. Obviously, I wasn't the only person who was enjoying the view.

 Paula rolled over on her stomach, cradling her head in her folded arms. "Do my back, will you, Sarah?"      Sarah obligingly sat up, giving Rick a delightful view of her pear shaped breasts that swung and jiggled as she poured the oil in her hand and then transferred it to Paula's back.

 Rick sat down again to concentrate on steering the boat. I was mildly shocked to see the tip of his partly erect cock appear on his thigh below the hem of his shorts!

 The sun was intense. Less then fifteen minutes later, the women stood and came back to join us in the cockpit. "You guys ready for a beer?" Paula asked.

 Paula ducked down into the little cabin. Sarah, meanwhile, sat in the cockpit. She unconsciously licked her lips as she nervously studied the end of Rick's cock peeking from his pant leg. 

 Rick intercepted her stare, and uncomfortably shifted to end his little exhibitory game by straightening himself up just before Paula returned with her hands full of beer cans. She was also wearing the shirt she had worn earlier. Sarah muttered something more to herself than to us, and made her way back to the front of the boat where she retrieved her shirt.

 This time, however, instead of buttoning it again, she tied the shirttails together, partially covering her breasts but leaving her midriff bare.

 All too soon, Paula dropped the sails and Rick started the engine. Instead of returning to the pier, he gently eased his boat into a narrow cement basin at an adjoining marina. "We have to use the travel-lift," he said. "She has a permanent keel so we have to block her up for the winter."

 The travel-lift operator soon lifted Rick's boat out of the water and deposited it on its keel in a row of similar boats, all propped up and braced with strong timbers to prevent them from falling over on their sides.

 Shortly before we reached the apartment on our return to Winnipeg, Paula turned to Sarah. "Do you folks play cards?"

 Actually, the subject had never come up between us, but Sarah answered, as if it were the most common thing in the world, "Well, some. What do you have in mind?"

 "We love a good bridge game," Paula said enthusiastically.

 Sarah looked doubtful, so Paula quickly added, "We haven't been playing long ourselves, but it's real easy to learn, and it's a lot of fun. Would you like to try it?"




My Loving Family Ch. 12



Without any hesitation, Sarah replied, "It sounds like fun. We'd love to try it."

 We agreed to meet at their house -- they had a teenager and a younger kid -- the following Friday evening. Thus began our weekly card games.

 We met faithfully every Friday evening for the next three months at their house, and we gradually came to enjoy the game as much as we enjoyed their company. However, shortly before Christmas, something occurred that changed our relationship forever.


(To be continued) 



My Loving Family Ch. 13



Synopsis: Pete has found a job in a cabinet shop. He and Sarah have formed a close friendship with Pete's boss and his wife, and have fallen into the habit of regular weekly card games. Until one night . . .

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Thirteen

 Both women had been sipping wine during the evening while Rick and I enjoyed a couple of bottles of Molson's. Rick and Sarah grossly overbid a hand and went down seven tricks. Rick suddenly threw his cards on the table. "Let's have a real drink," he said. "After all, Christmas is nearly here, and it's time we were getting into the spirit of things." With that, he abruptly stood and walked into the kitchen. Paula excused herself and followed him.

 I turned to Sarah. "Think it's about time we went home?"

 She shook her head. "I'm having too much fun," she said. "A drink or two won't hurt us. Let's stay a little while longer."

 I shrugged just as Rick and Paula re-entered the room, each carrying a glass in each hand. "This is one of Rick's holiday specials," Paula said. "Taste it. If it's too strong, I'll add a little more eggnog."

 Knowing Rick's propensity for pushing things, I took a cautious sip. WOW!! I felt tears stinging in my eyes as alcohol burned its way down my throat. I coughed and handed the glass back to Paula. "Is there anything in this besides rum?"

 Paula smiled. "Take another sip," she said. "Then if it's still too strong, I'll add more eggnog."

 I was astonished to see Sarah and Rick casually sipping their drinks without any trace of discomfort. Although I had earned a well deserved reputation as a two fisted drinker in my younger days, I was clearly out of training. I took another sip. This one went down much more smoothly. I gave Paula a weak smile.

 Paula patted my hand. "I knew it would be all right," she said comfortingly. 

 I wasn't so sure because I already felt somewhat light headed. Rick picked up the cards. "Let's go down to the rumpus room," he said. "Then we won't disturb the kids."

 I was evidently missing something, but the ladies seemed to agree with him, so we trooped back through the kitchen and down a flight of stairs into a typical rec room. 

 We'd never been down there before, and I curiously looked around after Rick flicked on the lights. Some dusty decorations left over from a long forgotten party still hung from the ceiling, but other than that, the room was furnished in typical rec room style. An old sofa and a couple of casual chairs grouped together around a small area rug on the linoleum took up nearly half the room. A small bamboo bar, a card table and a few folding chairs at the opposite end completed the ensemble. 

 Rick led the way to the card table. He carefully set his drink down and began unfolding chairs for the four of us. Paula seemed to know what he had in mind, but Sarah and I exchanged bewildered expressions.

 "I can take only so much bridge," Rick said as he sat at one side of the table and began shuffling the cards. "Every now and then, we have to change our luck. What do you say we play a few hands of strip poker just for the hell of it?"

 I felt the same thrill I had experienced on Rick's boat months earlier when I had been mentally urging Sarah to take off her shirt. However, Sarah looked doubtful. She darted a quick look toward me and said, "I don't know how to play poker."

 "Our rules are so simple," Rick said, "that anyone can play. The dealer passes each player five cards face down and two cards face up. Then each player picks up the five, and using his two open cards, tries to assemble the best five card hand he can. Here's the list and ranking of the various possible combinations." Rick laid a piece of cardboard in the middle of the table. Then, looking directly at Sarah, he added, "We'll take it easy. Will you play with us?"

 I was mentally urging her to agree. Instead she turned to me. "What do you think, Pete?"

 "Well, you girls weren't shy when we were out on the boat, and that was out in the open where anyone could see you. I don't see why this would be any different." Actually, truth be told, I was eager for another glimpse of Paula's soft breasts and black nipples.

 "I suppose this wouldn't be any different," she said. "OK, what happens after the cards are dealt?"

 "That's the easy part," Rick said confidently. "This is like a regular game of poker, only the person with the best hand gets to tell one of the others to give up an article of clothing.

 While Rick was explaining the rules, Paula had quietly gone upstairs and now returned with a bottle of Lemon & Hart rum and a pitcher full of yellow frothy liquid. She refilled our glasses.

 "I'll deal first," Rick said. "First each player gets five down cards," he said as he swiftly made five passes around the table. "Now you get your two open cards."

 "Now pick up your five and build the best five-card hand you can. Throw your discarded two cards in a pile in the middle of the table."

 I looked over Sarah's shoulder. She had two pair, queens over fours. I pointed them out. We laid our hands down. I had three sixes. Paula and Rick each had a pair of aces, but Paula also had a king while Rick's high card was a nine.

 "Paula, give me one of your shoes." 

 "OK," she replied, handing me a slipper.

 Paula shuffled the cards and dealt the next hand. This time Sarah held the winning hand and Rick lost a shoe.

 Without the usual betting or theatrics, the game went almost too quickly. Soon, we were all barefooted. Now the game became more interesting.

 Sarah held the winning hand with two pair. I expected her to demand Rick's shirt or pants, but instead, she looked slowly around the table. "Paula, give me your bra."

 Paula protested. "I thought the girls were supposed to undress the guys," she said.

 "If that's a rule, Rick forgot to mention it when he was explaining how the game is played," Sarah said primly. "What do you guys think?"

 Rick looked ruefully at his wife. "Sarah's right," he said. "We always played girls against the guys and vice versa, but I don't see why it has to be that way."

 Paula didn't look happy, but she accepted the verdict, and in the mysterious way women have, soon was withdrawing her bra from her right sleeve. "Here you are," she said, handing it to Sarah. 

 Rick won the next round. This time, there was no hesitation. Looking at Sarah with a burlesque leer, he said, "Sarah, please give me your panties." 

 Sarah retired discreetly behind the bamboo bar, and soon emerged, panties in hand, which she gave to Rick as she returned to the table.

 Rick made another comic leer, this time holding the scrap of cloth to his nose and noisily sniffing. "Ahh, prime stuff," he said.

 "Rick, you cut that out," Paula said sharply. "You keep that up and our friends will walk out on you!"

 Sarah smiled. "I'm glad Rick's having a good time," she said. "Don't worry about us, Paula."

 I won the next hand. I looked at Rick. "Hand over your pants, old buddy," I said.

 Without a moment's hesitation, Rick stood, unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. Then he unbuttoned his waistband, and let his pants fall around his ankles. All eyes were fastened momentarily on the prominent bulge tenting the front of his boxers before he sat down again. "See what you did to me, Sarah?" he asked in a mock whiny voice.

 Sarah smiled complacently.

 Paula win the next hand. She looked at her husband. "I'll take those boxers, if you don't mind," she said.

 Again Rick stood. This time he lifted the elastic waistband over his engorged cock and lowered it, slowly exposing his red bush, magnificent erection, and hanging scrotum. Even I was impressed, and the rapt expression on Sarah's face left no doubt regarding her admiration.

 Paula looked at Sarah with a broad grin. "See what I have to live with?"

 Sarah didn't hesitate a moment. "Is he like that all the time?" she asked innocently.

 Paula snorted. "Ha! Don't I wish!"

 I won the next hand. "Sarah, dear. Please give me your blouse."

 Sarah quickly stripped it off and handed it to me, while I enjoyed watching Rick's expression as Sarah's overstuffed bra came into view. She had selected a see-thru bra that left almost nothing to the imagination. Her flattened nipples and rosy areola were clearly displayed.

 Sarah dealt the next hand. I was sure I held the winning hand with a spade flush, but I deliberately discarded one of the spades because I was beginning to feel overdressed. Paula held three nines.

 She looked speculatively at me. "Pete, will you remove your trousers?"

 Like Rick, I stood and made a production of unfastening my pants and allowing them to drop. Also like Rick, my cock was as stiff as a crowbar, but I didn't have the luxury of baggy boxers to partly conceal my condition. Instead, I was wearing Jockey briefs which sharply outlined my balls and cock. I have my audience a brief bow and sat down.

 I would have won the next hand too, since I held a full house, but I discarded a trey and a six, leaving me with only a pair of threes. Rick won the hand with a pair of fives, and looked at me with a diabolical grin. "Let's give the ladies a thrill," he said. "Hand me your shorts."

 I stood again. As I started to teasingly lower my briefs, Paula said softly, "Could I do that for you, Pete?"

 I shot a quick look in Sarah's direction, but she merely smiled as if daring me to step around the table. I moved quickly to Paula's side. I'll swear my cock swelled another inch as I felt Paula's warm fingers lift the elastic band over my straining cock. She was intently watching my cock emerge, and I'm certain I saw her involuntarily lick her upper lip when, after its release, it jutted forward toward her face.

 My foreskin had started to retract, and the tip of my cock was slick with precum. My shorts fell around my ankles. I steadied myself by holding her shoulder as I lifted first my right leg from its folds, I felt her hand briefly cup and lift my scrotum as if she were weighing my balls, while her other hand softly brushed my cock.

 My back was to Rick, but this all took place not more than four feet directly in front of Sarah. I looked anxiously in her direction for her reaction to Paula's overt fondling, but she merely smiled again. "Whose turn is it to deal?

 Sandra's bra went next, followed by Rick's shirt. I now realized Rick had been playing to lose, just as I had. "What happens when a player runs out of clothes?" Sandra asked. 

 I had been wondering the same thing, but I had been distracted by Rick's open admiration for Sarah's breasts which, despite nursing Nonnie, still possessed most of their youthful shape and resiliency. Remembering Paula's pendulous breasts, I could easily understand why they were so appealing to him.

 Paula answered. "The way we do it, when a person has nothing more to give, then they have to do whatever the winner tells them -- within reason, of course."

 Rick won the next hand and Paula lost her shirt. This was more like it! I'm sure Paula noticed my interest because she seemed to preen, thrusting her chest out while glancing meaningfully at my waist where the table obscured her view of my cock. Her black areola seemed to pucker under my gaze, causing her thick black nipples to become even more engorged.

 Sarah lost her skirt after the next hand was played. As Rick and I had done, she stood to remove it, slowly baring the neatly trimmed patch of hair immediately above her clitoris. Paula gasped audibly as she slowly lowered her skirt, revealing the styled pubic hair surrounding her wet and obviously aroused labia.

 Sarah grinned at our host's reaction. Then she sat down. "Looks like we're at their mercy," she said to Rick.

 I took a quick inventory. Paula was still wearing a skirt and panties while I still had my shirt. Rick won the next hand. Then it was our turn to be surprised because when Paula stood and slowly removed her skirt, it gradually dawned on me that she hadn't worn panties! A thick mat of black curls completely covered her mons.

 Sarah won the next hand. "Paula, go help Pete take off his shirt." Paula obediently padded around the table, her heavy breasts swaying as she walked. She paused behind Rick's chair, bent over, and kissed the crown of his head. Then she stepped around to me.

 I stood and turned to make it easier for her, but she said, "You turned the wrong way, Pete."

 I turned so I was facing her, my cock aimed directly at her belly button. She unbuttoned my shirt, then pushed the cloth back off my shoulders. Undressing me that way required her to press her naked belly against my cock, her plump, tawny breasts against my chest. It was all I could do to keep from reaching around behind her, to grip her ass and pull her soft body even tighter against my own.

 She bent forward, pulling the sleeves down my arms. I felt one of her breasts brush the tip of my cock, and then, as she made a final bow, retrieving my shirt, I felt a brief kiss on the end of my cock.

 She then straightened up, and continued on around the table pausing behind Sarah's chair to drape my shirt over her head. Then she sat down again. Rick's eyes were still glued to Sarah's chest. "I wish I had a shirt on that you could take off," he said with a grin.

 The game was over. Rick stood, not bothering to conceal his raging erection, and walked over to a small table in the corner. Soon, the soft tones of "I'll be Seeing You" drifted into the room. Rick walked around the table to Sarah's side and held out his hand. She hesitated, glanced at me, then nodded and stood, holding out her arms.

 I watched with growing excitement as she and Rick, holding each other in a tight embrace, began to move around the tiny dance floor in time to the music, but I was distracted when Paula touched my hand. "There's no reason why they should have all the fun." 

 She stood and came to stand beside me. I began to reach down for my shorts, but she stopped me. "I want to feel you against me, Pete, like those two."

 "You're sure? As you can plainly see, I'm in a kind of an embarrassing condition," I said.

 Paula grinned down at me. "Me too, only you can't see it! And if you think you're embarrassed, look at them."

 I glanced at Sarah and Rick again. They were standing perfectly still in the middle of the room, locked in each other's arms while their mouths worked together, exchanging deep, passionate, open mouthed kisses. I couldn't be sure, but it looked as if Sarah's hand was playing with Rick's cock.

 Paula was urgently tugging on my arm, so I reluctantly rose. My member was so stiff that it rose up at a rigid forty-five degree angle; something it hadn't done in years. Paula smiled approvingly when she saw it. She held her arms out to me. "It's our turn, now," she whispered as she rubbed her furry pussy against my cock and her breasts against my hairy chest. She giggled.

 "What's so funny?"

 "I was just thinking -- your thing tangled in my hair and my nipples tangled in yours!"

 I fastened my hungry mouth on hers, and sucked on her tongue while her lips caressed mine. Her nipples were like small stones against my chest, and I began to wonder if I would cum just from the friction in the way she was rubbing her hairy mons against my hardness. Coming up for air, I quickly glanced around to see what Rick and Sarah were doing.

 At first, I didn't see them, but then I realized they were in the corner on the couch.

 Paula did a small grind and bump against me, I'm sure causing my cock to extend even further. "You suppose we should go chaperon those two?" she asked with a sly grin. Not waiting for my response, she led the way to the corner.

 I heard Sarah's familiar orgasmic moan as we approached the couch. Sarah was lying on her back, her right leg hooked over the back of the couch, and her left leg resting on Rick's shoulder as he crouched above her, his butt muscles flexing as he drove himself into her.

 Paula dropped to her knees and briefly tasted my cock. Then she rolled back on the area rug and spread her legs. With both hands, she parted the black curls concealing her vulva, revealing the startling pinkness of her labia and inner labia. "Hurry Pete! See how wet I am?"

 I dropped to the floor and slid my head and shoulders between Paula's spread knees. I gently touched the moist tip of my tongue to the inner part of her thigh, slowly tracing a wet path up to the outer edge of her dark swollen labia. Pausing, I gently nibbled and pulled with my lips on her thick genital hair and outer lips, and, just as gently, traced her crease with my wet tongue. As I touched her with my tongue, her labia began to open like an unfolding flower, revealing the entrance to her womanhood.

 Sarah's moans were becoming louder and more insistent. I was spurred on by Rick's grunts and the rhythmic protests of the creaking couch as my boss hammered himself into my betrothed.

 Sexual tension hung like a heavy fog in the room, blurring my vision, sharpening my tactile sensations. Paula exuded the musky scent of a woman in heat, and my erection was aching for relief. I slid the length of her body, pausing only to kiss that sweet and vulnerable place where her hips joined her pelvis, to poke my tongue into her belly button, and to lick between her breasts, tasting her salty warmth accented by the astringency of her perfume. I nuzzled and licked the hollow of her throat.

 Suddenly, Paula began to tremble. I held her body tightly and felt her stomach muscles begin to undulate against my body. She moaned softly in my ear, as her shuddering quiver grew more violent. Abruptly, she relaxed, giving a great sigh.   "Wow! That was a surprise," she whispered. "I never came that way before! You weren't even in me. Let me rest a minute." 

 I held her close, kissing her neck and jaw line while my fingers idly caressed her breast and rigid nipple. The creaking couch, and Sarah's moans and gasps, punctuated by the rhythmic slap of colliding male and female flesh, filled the room and served to further stiffen my already painful cock. I began to stroke Paula's breasts more urgently.

 She stretched, and murmured, "I want you in me, Pete . . . now!"

 I rolled between her spreading legs. As my cock dragged across her hip, it left a viscous stream of precome on her skin. She felt it. "I guess you're ready, at that," she said. 

 I braced myself on hands and knees, holding my rigid member at the moist entrance to her tunnel. Paula murmured, "Wait, lover. Let me get it wet." I felt the slightly abrasive feel of her genital hair against the tip of my glans as she rubbed it up and down her slit. "That's better," she whispered. Her little fists attempted to stuff me into her secret opening. "I want you so badly, Pete," she said. "Push!"

I pressed myself against her yielding vagina. At first, only my glans popped through her tight, wet opening. She writhed beneath me, kissing my chest, and humping her pelvis up to encourage me. 

 "Push again!" she whispered urgently. I crawled forward on my knees, while she seized her thighs and pulled her legs high in the air and further apart. 

 I thrust into her a second time, and felt the tissues deep within her belly part as I sank deeper and deeper into her hot clasping tunnel.

 "More, more," she cried. "God, I love this! You white boys know how to fuck!" 

 I began working back and forth in her. Finally, I felt my scrotum collide with the bottom of her V. At that moment, my brain went into neutral, and raw animal instinct took over. I began trying to thrust my entire body into that wonderful, mysterious well of life.

 "Oh, God that feels sooo good! Harder! Harder! Don't ever stop!!"

 It might have been five minutes later when I thought I felt Paula's second spasm. Her clasping tunnel fluttered, and her legs began to tremble. She gave a long sigh.    I could hold back no longer. I felt as if I were being drawn inside out; my seed began its exquisite journey across my aching back, up my urethra, and spurted into her thirsty, clutching womb with explosive force.




My Loving Family Ch. 13



She opened her eyes and grinned up at me. "Wow!"

 I couldn't answer. I was drenched with sweat and was gasping for air. I could only nod.

(To be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 14



Synopsis: The card players grow tired of bridge and play a torrid hand of strip poker, which leads to Peter and Sarah's first swing.

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Fourteen

Our relationship with the O'Conner's -- and my relationship with Sarah -- was changed forever. Now, our bridge games almost always ended early, usually when one of us suggested a trip down to the rec room where we quickly undressed and began to play. 

I was slightly puzzled, and even a little hurt, by Sarah's seemingly endless appetite for sex with my boss, but I gradually came to see that there was a purpose behind her enthusiasm.

As I became increasingly comfortable and even titillated watching her writhe in organic ecstasy under another man's plundering cock, I began to realize that secretly I not only no longer feared or even resented her work assignations but was actually beginning to look forward to them. She was inoculating me against jealousy by introducing me to recreational sex before we married.

Although that realization made me feel somehow unclean, I had to admit it. Just as I had gotten excited hoping Sarah would remove her shirt when we were on the boat, I now found the mental picture of Sarah's naked -- or better yet, half naked -- straining body bucking up to receive a plunging cock belonging to a faceless man incredibly exciting and extremely arousing. I even began helping her prepare for her extra- curricular activities.

As she dressed, I constantly pictured how an unknown male hand would, later that evening, insinuate itself between the carefully spaced buttons on her blouse -- especially when she elected to go without a bra -- or the hand might slide slowly up a sleek thigh under her skirt only to discover that her mons was unguarded by even the briefest of lace panties. 

Later, when she returned to the apartment, hair mussed, lipstick smeared, reeking with sex and the odor of a foreign cologne or aftershave, and sometimes even with a strange taste that I later learned (from kissing Willa) was the taste of semen in her mouth, she'd set me on fire!  When she sometimes whispered the details of her evening's adventure while we were fucking, I'm sure my cock must have gained another inch! 

Another thing: Willa always offered to "keep me company" while Sarah was out on a "date." She was slightly heavier than Sarah, although their breasts were strikingly similar in both size and texture. Frankly, I couldn't tell the difference except when I was sucking one of Sarah's nipples, it would erect almost immediately, the firm rubbery texture almost demanding to be nipped and pinched. Willa's nipples were much softer and more tender. I had to be more careful with her because she bruised more easily.

I remember holding and caressing her one evening soon after we began to swing with the O'Conners, while Sarah was out doing her duty for Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons. We had just enjoyed a powerful mutual climax, when she whispered in my mouth, "Wouldn't you like to be a fly in a corner watching Sarah right now?"

I was instantly revived, thinking of Sarah's activities, and Willa was quick to take advantage of my revived tumescence. "I thought so," she whispered as she wrapped her cool fingers around my rigid cock. "While you're thinking of Sarah fucking a client, let's put this where it'll do the most good," she said, lifting a thigh over my body so she was straddling me. 

She raised her little body as high as possible above my torso, and inserted the tip of my cock into her inner labia. Then she slowly settled herself while I felt her hot inner membranes slowly part to receive me for the second time that evening.

Willa began to slide back and forth while leaning slightly forward so her clitoris was in constant contact with my hairy belly. She began to vibrate, and as she did so, I felt the muscles in her cunt massage my cock like tiny fingers. She leaned further forward, resting her breasts on my chest and fastening her mouth to mine. "Oh, God, Pete! If only I could tell you how good this feels!" 

I seemed to penetrate her even more deeply, or perhaps my cock was still growing. Whatever it was, something magic happened to us in that moment. I reveled in the feel of her nipples brushing my chest, of her energetic hips moving in circles, up and down, and from side to side, as she sought to experience even greater sensations. 

Almost without warning, I erupted. When she felt my cock stiffen and begin to spasm, she leaned forward and took me tightly in her arms. I felt her stomach muscles ripple against me as she shuddered through a series of orgasms. "Oh Pete, that was wonderful," she murmured against my neck as I lay gasping for air. "Can I ask for a special favor?"

"Of course you can, dear, anything at all." I said as I cuddled her in my arms.

"I'm embarrassed to even mention it," Sarah continued, "but you realize that Nonnie is on the Pill and is having sex regularly with someone -- I assume one of her school chums. Well, Ruthie's almost 18 now, and she tells me she's ready to have sex, too. She even asked me to get our doctor to prescribe pills for her, as well."

It came as a shock to realize those little girls were growing up so fast! "OK, but what has this to do with me?"

"One of the most important moments in a young girl's life is the first time she has sex. A bad first experience can have all kinds of lasting effects -- I should know." Willa fell silent as I pondered the significance of that last statement.

"But what does this have to do with me?"

"I want you to be her first, Pete. I know how loving and considerate you are. It would be so much better for her than some fumbling, pimply adolescent mounting her in the backseat of his father's car!"

"Whoa!" I said. "Do you realize what you're saying?"

"Perfectly well, Pete. Would you be willing to do that for a girl who loves you as if you were her daddy?"

"Aw, come on, Willa. That doesn't make any sense at all," I said. "After all, she has a right to pick her own partner. It shouldn't be something her mother arranges!"

"She has. She picked you."

I was as stunned as if I had been hit over the head with a 2x4. Ruthie was a pretty girl, and quite possibly, as she matured further, she would become a beautiful woman. Already, her gawky angular appearance had softened as her body filled out, and I won't deny I had sometimes speculated how firm her young breasts must be.

But . . ."I don't know, Willa . . .it just doesn't seem right!"

"Just don't say no right now, Pete. Think about it. Talk to Sarah; see what she thinks."

"All right," I said reluctantly. "I'll do that if it means that much to you, but I'm not making any promises, you understand."

"Thank you, Pete. You really are a love whether you know it or not!"

I don't know what time Sarah came in, but she was sound asleep when I woke the next morning. She hadn't bothered to remove her make- up and her mascara had run, giving her somewhat the appearance of a sleeping raccoon. I tucked the covers around her when I got up. 

Willa already had the coffee on when I walked into the kitchen. Nonnie and Ruth were nowhere to be seen -- but I had long ago quit wondering about their mysterious comings and goings. I remembered my own adolescence and how much I resented having to give an accounting of my time.

Neither of us mentioned the bizarre conversation we had had the previous evening as we sat at the kitchen table sipping our hot coffee. In fact, neither of us had much to say at all until Willa had finished her second cup and was leaving the room. She turned in the doorway. "We're counting on you, Pete." Then she turned and disappeared.

I can't tell you whether my imagination was playing tricks or whether Willa's strange proposition was being echoed by her daughter, but nearly a month later, immediately after I sat down to read the evening paper, Ruthie walked into the room. The temperature seemed to have gone up ten degrees. I picked up the paper, but despite myself, I watched her walk across the room.

She seemed mysteriously older. Puzzled, I studied her form, then realized that seen in profile, her bosom seemed much fuller today that it had yesterday. Or perhaps the sweater she wore was a size or two too small. Her skirt also seemed even shorter than usual, reaching only a few inches down her coltish thighs, but there was something else -- and then I realized that she was wearing her hair up and seemed to have applied some makeup. Her eyes seemed unnaturally dark and her lips unnaturally crimson.

She sensed I was watching her, and turned, giving me a coquettish smile as if to say, "Like what you see?"

I quickly averted my eyes, focusing on the newspaper. Despite myself, however, I found my gaze straying to her animated body as she perched restlessly on the edge of the sofa watching TV. I don't know whether she noticed my furtive glances, but once, I was shocked to look up and see her sitting with her legs widely parted. She wore no panties and I was treated to an unobstructed view of her virginal pussy; a tight seam between her thighs, lightly covered with downy hair!

I silently cursed myself and quickly looked down at the paper which covered my lap as I felt my cock twitch at the mouth-watering sight. Willa called us to supper. I purposely hesitated until the others had gone into the kitchen before I stood and followed them so I could conceal my aroused cock.

After supper, after the girls had cleaned up the kitchen, and we had settled down to watch some boring TV, the two girls decided to liven the evening by putting on a style show. There was a good deal of whispering and giggling coming from their bedroom before Nonnie emerged, wearing one of her mother's killer dresses.

I was astonished at how bold she was. This dress was made of a pale pink gauzy material that covered her from her neck to an inch or two below her knee and clung like a second skin. It had obviously been designed to be worn over a matching bra and panty set, but Nonnie had neglected to put them on, and as a result, the sweet upswept curve of her breast, her protruding nipples and puckered areola were clearly visible. Her delta was plainly marked by a dark smudge of pubic hair.

If I had thought that Nonnie's costume was daring, when Ruthie appeared through the doorway, I know my jaw must have dropped! She wore a transparent nightgown that would have been invisible had it been any color other than black.

Her perfect teacup size breasts and puffy, protruding areola and nipples were on full display, as was the inviting shadow between her thighs. I began to feel the familiar tightening in my groin as I contemplated this erotic display. I even began to wish I hadn't been so quick in my negative response to her mother the night before.

Ruthie was, in every sense of the word, a physically mature young woman, and even as I watched her prance around the room, I realized I was the hapless foil in the hands of four strong women who were determined to use me.

I still thought it was terribly wrong, but at the end of her dance, when Ruthie came to sit on my knee and shyly leaned forward to kiss me softly on my mouth -- something neither of the girls had done before -- I felt almost stifled in my frustration. How I longed to caress those pert little breasts with their puffy areola and hard little nipples.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked. Before I could answer such a complicated question, she continued, "what do you think of my new nighty?" As she spoke, she shifted her weight and now sat squarely on my throbbing erection! She wiggled on it like a little girl while leaning forward to kiss me again, this time more aggressively, allowing her soft lips to open.

I felt the tip of her tongue touch my lips, and a tiny spark of electricity fired in my scrotum. Although it had been many years since I had last tasted the sweet flavors of a young girl's lips and mouth, I was barely able to restrain myself from wrapping my arms around her as distant memories of my youth came flooding back.

Nonnie, meanwhile, had returned to the bedroom, and now emerged fully dressed. Sarah floated into my field of vision. "Pete, dear, there's a movie on that we've been planning to see, and we just have time to catch the 7:30 showing. We'll be back around 11:00."

In a moment, the front door opened and shut. Ruthie and I were alone. "I'm so glad, Uncle Pete, that you'll be my first," Ruthie said, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her nearly naked breasts against my chest. 

"Ummm," she added, this would feel even better if I were able to rub myself against your bare skin." She leaned back and began unbuttoning my shirt.

I know I wasn't any help, but the little hollow between her bare shoulder and neck looked so inviting, that I leaned forward, first licking, then kissing it.

"Ohh, you're giving me goose bumps, Uncle Pete," Ruthie said. She wasn't kidding. I could see the prominent little bumps on her forearms. Then I put a finger on the tip of her nipple. "Squeeze it a little," she urged, "while I'm getting you unfastened."

I could wait no longer. I leaned forward and sucked the tip of her breast, nightgown and all, into my mouth. "Ohhh, ohhh," she moaned as she wiggled around on my covered erection. "That's making me sooo hot, Uncle Pete. . ."

That wasn't the half of what she was doing to me! My cock was so engorged, it was painful. I wrapped my arms around her slender little body -- I doubt whether she weighed more than about 80 pounds wringing wet -- and pulled her tight against me. Her nipples felt like hard little stones against my chest. I stood, holding her tightly against my chest. "Let's get more comfortable," I murmured as I kissed the side of her neck again. Where would you like to go? Your room or mine?"

"I have a better idea," she said. "The most important things in my life -- like being born -- were in my mother's bed. I want this to be there, too."

Holding her body tight against me as if she were only half her age, reveling in the feel of her hard little breasts pressed flat against my chest, I carried her frail little body into Willa's room. Obviously, this, like everything else this evening, had been planned. The covers were thrown back and a thick soft towel had thoughtfully been spread in the middle of the bed. "Mommy says first times are sometimes messy," she said apologetically.

I gently laid her on the bed, then, feasting my eyes on her restlessly moving body, her pointed little breasts, girlish hips and open arms, I quickly shed my shoes, socks, shirt and trousers. When I began lowering my briefs, Ruthie said, "Wait, Uncle Pete, let me do that."

I stepped next to the bed as she rolled over and got up on her knees. Taking my waistband in both hands, she stretched it out and over my swollen manhood. Her eyes grew wider as more and more of my cock was exposed. 

"My God!" she whispered. "I never saw one as big as that, before! There's no way -- " she paused and caught herself. "Yours is covered with skin!" she added as she focused on my foreskin.

"I'm not really that big, Ruthie," I said. "It's just that you may not have seen a man's penis before."

She was still staring at my phallus with an expression that seemed to express apprehension, curiosity, and, more subtly, desire.

"Go ahead, touch it," I urged her. "Play with it. Slide the skin back and you'll see it looks just like the others."

She timidly reached out and gently touched it. Then, since it only twitched, she delicately placed her thumb and fingers on both sides of my cock, and gently began to slide the cone of loose skin covering its moist head back out of the way. She continued to retract my foreskin until it disappeared completely, exposing my bulging, reddened glans. "Ohh, this is neat!" she said. "Why doesn't Billy have one of these?"

Well, well. Perhaps little Ruthie isn't quite as innocent as Willa thought! "You play with Billy's penis?"

Ruth nodded. "Twice," she said. "I even made it spit that white stuff once," she added, looking shyly into my face to gauge my reaction. I smiled. "Your soft hand could make anyone's penis spit," I said, "but I know a better use for it."

I lay down on the bed and began to pull her down next to me. "Wait," she said. She sat up and quickly slipped the diaphanous negligee off her slender shoulders. Then, pulling her shoulders back as far as possible, she leaned forward over my body so her small, bare nipples just brushed the hair on my chest. "Ummm," she said, "that tickles! In a good way." Then she rested her upper body on mine and fastened her soft mouth on mine. 

Her lips parted, and I felt another electric jolt in my scrotum as the tip of her wet tongue traced the outline of my lips. Then, while our lips caressed and nibbled, I rolled us back on our sides and began to stroke her back and the curve of her buttocks.

Meanwhile, as we continued kissing, she began grinding her pelvis against my hard cock. "Don't forget what we're here for!" she whispered into my mouth.

For an answer, I rolled her on her back. After licking and kissing the side of her neck under her ear and again under her jaw, I slid down so I could lick her breast and tease her nipple with my teeth. Then I slid further down, leaving a trail of saliva as I licked and kissed my way across her belly to her belly button, and then further down. kissed her tenderly while gentle massaging her hard little breast and gently tugged on her puffy areola and hard nipple. 

She raised her knees, expecting me to enter her, but I slid further still until my face was on a level with her thin pubic hair. Then I put my hands on her thighs, and lifted her body so her tight little vulva was fully exposed. 

Wetting my tongue, I slowly moved my broadened tongue up her seam. She gasped, leading me to think that this might be yet another first for her.

"Ohhhh, Uncle Pete! Do that again!" She was beginning to lift her pelvis urgently against my mouth. "I'm getting so hot, Uncle Pete, I don't think I can stand it!"

Every time she innocently said "Uncle Pete," I felt a strange pang of added excitement. Clearly, there was an element of the forbidden in what I was about to do. It wasn't really incest, of course, because Ruthie wasn't a blood relative, although emotionally we had grown as close as a father and daughter; perhaps that explained it. 

Then too, Ruthie was a virgin, and I had never fucked a virgin before. Whatever it was, I was having a terrible time controlling my primeval need to drive my rigid cock as deep into her little body as I could reach.

Instead, I lowered my head again, and this time I was more forceful with my tongue, digging into her outer labia with it as I again slowly drew it the length of her slit. Then, using my fingers, I opened her outer lips, and forced my tongue into the entrance to her vagina. I was unable to gain an entry, so I slowly worked my way up, searching for a telltale bump near the top of her vulva that would indicate her clitoris. 

I found it, a tiny, almost indistinct lump hidden within the folds of her vulva. I caressed it with my tongue while I began to hum. Her hands were on the back of my head pressing my face into even closer contact with her pussy. At the same time, I probed for her tiny opening with my finger. 

"UNCLE Pete!!! Oh, Oh, Oooooohhhhh," Ruth cried as she impatiently tried to impale herself on my finger.  I must have licked and sucked various parts of her pussy for at least five minutes, but she began trying to pull my head away. "I can't take any more," she gasped. "I need you!!" 

Her eyes were wide and imploring, Sweat glistened at her hairline, and her little body was restlessly moving beneath me. Finally, she raised and separated her legs as widely as possible, pulling her girlish thighs back with her hands.




My Loving Family Ch. 14



I quickly slid my body up and rolled on my side so I could reach the KY jelly Wanda had thoughtfully left on her bedside stand and quickly lubricated my cock. Then I rolled back and began probing with my cock for the soft entry to her womanhood. 

"Help me," I whispered. She let go on her right leg, and I felt her tiny hand grip my rigid cock and pull it into position.

"Push!" she commanded.

I probed and probed for her tiny opening, but I still couldn't find it, so I slid my hand between our pulsing bodies and searched for her inner labia. My finger found her soft wet spot.

Using my finger as a guide, I followed it with my cock and as gently as possible, began working myself into her tiny opening.

It took several minutes as, her eyes wide, I slowly worked the head of my stiff cock into her tiny cunt. She seemed to be holding her breath when I felt the head of my cock head pop inside her inner labia. 

Involuntarily, she pulled back. "It hurts, Uncle Pete," she said.

"I know," I said quietly. "But just for a minute. Then it will begin feeling good." I rested on my knees and elbows, and gently kissed her mouth while she slowly began moving beneath me, adjusting herself to my size. Gradually, her movements became more enthusiastic.

"I don't know what to do, Uncle Pete."

"Just do what feels good," I replied. "Does it feel better now?"

She nodded her head, so I began gently, slowly moving myself within her, the age old dance of love, gaining a tiny fraction of an inch each time I moved forward. Soon, however, I encountered a spongy barrier.

"This is the hard part," I said. "Lets just play for a minute. When you think you're ready, nod your head." 

Ruthie smiled to indicate she understood. I began a series of rapid small thrusts, almost completely pulling out of her, then pressing forward. Ruth began meeting my thrusts by raising her pelvis to meet me. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations she was experiencing, took a deep breath, and said, "Now!"

This time I didn't check myself when I encountered her hymen Instead, I thrust my cock against that fragile piece of tissue. Ruthie winced as it tore, but the pain apparently was only momentary because when she thought I was about to stop, she whispered, "It's gone. Now fuck me! Make me a woman!"

I couldn't believe how tight her sheath was. Her cunt felt as if it were lined with wet, hot corrugated velvet, and it gripped me far tighter than my fist ever did. It would not have been possible to fuck her at a normal pace because thrusting into her tiny body was like what I imagine thrusting into a tube of thick, molten molasses might be like. She was not only incredibly tight, but she was also terribly hot.

Fortunately, the jelly her mother had provided plus the girl's own natural oils blended to coat her sheath and make my cock slippery, so as she adjusted to my size, her grip on me lessened, and soon, I found myself recklessly plunging into her again and again while she meowed like a kitten.

I wanted her first fuck to be as notable as possible, so to slow my impending explosion, I whispered, "Let's turn over," into her mouth. At the same time, I paused with my cock buried deep in her belly, and wrapping my arms around her, rolled over on my back so she was straddling my midsection, our bodies still tightly joined.

"It's your turn," I said, grinning into her flushed face. "You do what makes you feel the best." This was wholly unexpected, of course, and at first, she merely rocked back and forth, her eyes tightly shut, her face a mask of concentration. 

"How's it feeling now?"

"You're turning my insides into butter," she murmured. "I just can't imagine ever feeling better than I feel right . . ." Her jaw suddenly snapped shut as she stiffened, and her face froze in a teeth grinding rictus grin. Her eyes were tightly shut when her stomach muscles began to undulate, and she abruptly leaned forward, resting her hard little breasts on my chest as successive shudders shook her small frame. Of course, I had both arms around her, holding her tightly against me. 

Gradually, her trembling ceased. She opened her eyes briefly, took a deep breath and sighed as I softly kissed her mouth. Then she began breathing slowly and deeply. She had fallen asleep!

My erection had begun to shrink when her orgasm first shook her body, and now, as we slowly rolled over, my cock slipped out of her. Careful not to disturb her, I slid off the bed and quietly dressed. I was reading the paper when the movie party returned.

Willa came to stand in front of me, unasked questions plainly written on her face. I smiled at her. "Everything's fine, Willa. Ruthie is asleep in your bed; I left her there, thinking you might want to cuddle her tonight."

"Did . . .?" Willa asked hesitantly, glancing at Nonnie who pretended to be skimming a magazine nearby, but whose interest in our conversation was obvious.

I nodded. "It worked out very well, Willa, and I think that although she will no doubt be a little stiff and sore in the morning, that she thoroughly enjoyed herself."

"Oh, thank you, Pete. You can't possibly know how much this means to me!"

Willa's face colored slightly, when I responded, saying "You don't need to thank me; I had a good time, too. I'm glad I was able to be of service."

I glanced in Nonnie's direction to see how she was receiving this bit of information, and was slightly startled to see that she was looking at me in an oddly speculative way. 

(to be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 15



Synopsis: Pete is becoming more comfortable with Sarah's "extra" assignments how that they have begun to swing. 

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Fifteen

 Sarah and I were married shortly before Christmas. It was a simple ceremony performed by a justice of the peace in City Hall. Nonnie at tended, of course, as well as Willa and Ruth. Rick and Paula completed the guest list.

 Afterward, we enjoyed a magnificent dinner at Brown's. Then Sarah and I retired to a honeymoon suite in the same residential hotel where Mr. Bose and Cynthia lived.

 I wouldn't have wasted the money, but Mr. Bose had arranged it, and the bill was paid by Bose, Rothchild and Gibbons as a wedding present.

 After I carried my bride across the threshold in proper wedding tradition, and we opened the bottle of champagne waiting for us in a cooling stand, we solemnly toasted each other.

 I knew, of course, that she was naked under her dress, which stoked my libido even while I repeated my vows. Unlike the more provocative way she dressed when entertaining a client, she now wore a low cut, mid thigh length, spaghetti strapped light blue sheath with the color almost exactly the same as her eyes. A single strand of pearls bisected her chest calling attention to the beginning of her cleavage, pearl stud earrings, dark stockings and heels completed her ensemble. If her breasts had seemed to wobble and jiggle more than was usual as we had entered the judge's chambers, everyone present had politely ignored it.

 Now, as we sat sipping our wine, Sarah broke the silence. "Wow!" she said.

 "Are you feeling as strange as I am, considering our new status?" I asked.

 Her eyes sparkled. "This is a second time for you -- but I've never been married before. This is going to take some getting used to." She nervously twisted her wedding band around her finger.

 I nodded. "Buyer's remorse setting in already?"

 Sarah grinned. "Hardly. I saw your hard-on while we were standing in front of the judge, and all I could think of was how good it would feel sliding into my married pussy."

 "I guess some things never change," I said.

 "Well, speaking of changes, now that we're married, I'll have to tell Mr. Bose to find another escort for his clients. . . won't I?"

 That question had been uppermost in my mind since we had applied for a license and set the date. Sarah was looking more intently at me. "Well, won't I?" she insisted.

 I didn't know what to say. My conventional side was urging me to agree -- yet the devil sitting on my other shoulder was reminding me how much I had begun looking forward to her occasional assignations. I recognized that feeling stemmed from a serious moral lapse on my part -- and yet . . .

 I attempted to temporize. "I don't know," I said slowly. "How would you feel giving it up?" She started to reply, but I cut her off. "The thing is," I went on, "if I say 'yes', I'm afraid in time you'll come to resent me just like Amy did. . ."

 Sarah was shaking her head. "Oh, no you don't," she said. "You can't put your trip on me. I've been completely honest with you -- how about showing me the same courtesy?"

 Frankly, I didn't know what to say. She saw the indecision on my face. "Come here, dear," she said. "This is our honeymoon. Isn't it time we got better acquainted?" She stood and turned her back to me. "Unhook me, please," she said. 

 My fingers turned to thumbs as I clumsily seized the fabric and attempted to disconnect the tiny bits of metal at the top of her zipper. Finally, in frustration, she turned toward me again, put her hands behind her neck, and released the hook from its eye. I heard the quiet purr of her zipper being lowered while the fabric sagged from her body. She smiled, did a small bump and grind, slipped the straps from her shoulders, and stood before me, holding her dress in her hands, her firm breasts and taut, proud nipples betraying her arousal as she watched the expression on my face. Then she lowered her dress and gracefully stepped out of it, draping it over a nearby chair. Uncharacteristically, she posed, turned slightly to one side, one hand on her hip and knee partly bent, obscuring the sparse auburn hair that protected her mons. "Like what you see, sailor?"

 I had seen her nude countless times during the time we had lived together, but she had never, ever, presented such an erotic picture as she did at that moment. Frankly, I was literally speechless as I drank in her beauty. Her hair had been arranged in to frame her beautiful, almost classic features. She wore a modest amount of eye shadow and mascara to emphasize her large blue-green eyes, and her lips had been coated with a glistening gloss and were almost as red as the crinkled areola and engorged nipples that topped her slightly pendulous, pear shaped breasts. The pearls she still wore contrasted beautifully with the darker tone of her skin.

 My eye followed the slope of her softly rounded belly to the juncture between her thighs and the wisp of hair that covered her womanhood. Dark thigh high hose and heels that sculpted her legs completed the picture. Here was my very own Aphrodite! Sarah would never be more beautiful than she was at that moment.

 "My God . .!" was all I could manage.

 My face undoubtedly told her what she wanted to hear, and she smiled in return. "Here I am," she said, breaking the spell, "what you see is what you get!"

 I swept her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and we exchanged a deep, passionate kiss. Then, while we were still teasing one another with our hot, wet lips and tongue, I released her and began trying to undress. She released me and began to help by unbuckling my belt and lowering my zipper while I unbuttoned my shirt.

 My cock had never completely softened, and now, as her cool fingers gently seized it after pulling my Jockey briefs down, it immediately began to stiffen again. She pushed me back. As my legs came into contact with the bed, I abruptly and unexpectedly sat down.

 Sarah dropped to her knees in front of me. Leaning forward, she briefly skinned my foreskin back and licked the underside of my cock, teasing the frenulum -- that incredibly sensitive juncture of nerve endings under the head of any man's cock -- with the wet tip of her practiced tongue. Then she slid my foreskin shut and turned her attention to my shoes and socks, after which she stood and pulled my pants off my legs. "This is a one time deal," she said, grinning at me. "You're a big boy . . ." she leaned forward and while I admired the sway of her beautiful breasts, she closed her hand around my cock -- "a VERY big boy," she continued, "and the next time you can take your own shoes off!"

 While she was talking, she had slowly, sensuously moved her body, kissing her way while sliding her breasts up over my thighs, my turgid cock, my stomach, finally coming to rest and flattening under her weight on my chest. Our mouths eagerly met and worked together while our tongues licked the other's lips, explored the secret corners of the other's mouths, entwined and caressed in a timeless dance of love.

 I don't know how long we clung to each other, savoring the rich, silky warmth of a lover's skin, silently declaring our love for each other, but slowly we began caressing each other.

 "I want you in me, Pete," Sarah whispered, "right now!"

 As she spoke, she released her grip on my neck and rolled on her back, spreading and raising her legs. Just as quickly I was between her legs, resting them on my shoulders, while she reached down and fed my swollen member into her opening.

 "Ahhh," she sighed, "this is so good, Pete," while I slowly worked my way into her yielding tissues. When our bodies were tightly joined -- when I could go no deeper -- we clung together and revelled in the rich sensations we were both experiencing. 


 Suddenly, Sarah's stomach muscles began to undulate. Her eyes were closed tight, and I could feel the ripples of her orgasm in her rigid arms and legs. I held her as tightly as possible, but she continued to experience wave after wave of a crashing orgasm.

 This was something new! I was beginning to wonder what I should do when she suddenly went limp in my arms. The intensity of her orgasm had caused her to loose consciousness!

 I continued to hold her until I felt her begin to stir. "What . . . what. . .did I really pass out?" she whispered as she opened her eyes. I silently nodded, and began stroking her hair and the side of her face. "You scared me for a minute . . ." I began.

 "I scared myself!" she said. "Let me just lie here for a while."

 I had lost my erection the moment she lost consciousness, and now lay, holding her in my arms, as I continued my gentle stroking. "Can I get something for you? A drink of water? Another sip of wine?"

 "Wine would be nice," she murmured.

 I rolled off the bed and pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed over her still body. Then I leaned over and softly kissed her closed eyelids before going to the dresser where the wine bottle rested. When I returned to the bed, Sarah was sound asleep. 

 Rick and Paula invited us to join them and another couple for a New Years Eve party. Since Nonnie and Ruth had plans of their own, we asked our hosts for permission to bring Willa because we didn't want her to be left alone on New Years Eve.

 Sarah had been in touch with Paula during the week. I was surprised, when we dressed for the party, that Sarah wore the same revealing dress she had worn on our first date over a year earlier. Willa wore a snug black dress that emphasized her full bosom and fit snugly around her bottom. 

 It seemed very short, reaching only half way between her knees and hips, but what did I know about women's styles? Sarah had laid out a comfortable pair of slacks, a turtleneck sweater and a sports jacket for me.

 It had not snowed for a week, and the streets were relatively dry, so we made good time and arrived at the O'Conner's shortly after nine and parked behind an old Caddy. Every light in the house seemed to be lit as we climbed the steps.

 Paula opened the door and almost immediately gave me a hug and a kiss. "Happy New Year, folks," she said, taking Sarah and Willa by the hand and leading them around through the kitchen and downstairs into the rec room.

 The spectacular blonde I had seen briefly at the lake shore when Sarah and I had gone for a boat ride with Rick and Paula stood in the corner talking to Rick. She was dressed in a shimmery dress that seemed to change color from silver to green and back, depending on her movements. 

 She walked toward us as we entered the room. A younger man, glass in hand, also approached us. I had eyes only for the blonde. She possessed a rare ethereal quality that captivated me before I even noticed that her abbreviated neckline threatened to spill her breasts at any moment, or that her brief skirt hinted at the lacy elastic bands at the top of her stockings.

 Introductions were made all around, and I fell almost instantly in lust with Karen Olerud as I offered my hand and lost myself in the unfathomable depths of her liquid brown eyes.

 Her husband, David, seemed to be a likeable young man. His forthright grip and friendly smile made me feel I had just met a friend. "I understand you and Rick work together at the shop," he said.

 I nodded. "I'm just a poor wood butcher from the Territories," I said. "Rick is my boss."

 David smiled. "From what Rick tells me, you're being pretty modest. I've been fascinated with the Territories ever since I was a kid. Maybe we can chat about them some time."

 Paula interrupted us. "You're way behind the rest of us," she said speaking to me. "Let me get you a glass of Rick's special punch. Of course, if you'd rather have something else . . ."

 I looked around. Rick was already leading Sarah and Willa to the impromptu bar in the corner. "No, punch will be fine, thanks," I replied. Then to David, "I've lived all my life practically within spitting distance of the Great Slave Lake. But that's as far as I've been into the back country."

 "Fascinating," David murmured, but I could see I had lost his attention, and followed his gaze.

 Sarah was already dancing with Rick to the muted strains of an old Guy Lombardo recording. She had both arms around his neck, which pulled her dress even higher on her thighs, and as I glanced in her direction I saw teasing flashes of bare skin above her stocking tops. Rick had one hand on her ass and seemed to be pulling her even closer. If Sarah objected, it wasn't obvious from across the room.

 I felt a twinge in my cock as I watched her flirt with my boss. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned. Paula was smiling up at me. "You do dance, don't you?"

 "Sort of," I responded. "At least slow ones like this." I shot an apologetic glance at David, but he was already walking toward Willa, so I put my glass down, took Paula in my arms, and we began to sway and shuffle in time with the music. I had to smile at the irony. Normal relationships usually begin with a dance -- ours had begun with a card game and had led through fucking to dancing.

 Paula soon had both arms linked around my neck, and was pressing her lush body against mine, deliberately caressing my growing tumescence by rubbing her mound against it, and provocatively stroking it with a thigh she cleverly inserted between my legs from time to time. 

I straightened up and looked questioningly into her face. "Tell me about your other guests," I asked.   Paula smiled, her dazzling white teeth made brighter still by the party lighting in the room. "You mean Karen and David?"

 Seeing my nod, she continued, "Those two are the original party animals. They both love to fuck, but poor David sometimes has a problem getting it up. You'll see."

 Somehow, I wasn't surprised at either revelation. I had sensed that Karen was a free spirit the moment we met -- of course, I was probably influenced by her choice of bathing suits, if those scraps of cloth I remembered so vividly from that day on the beach could be termed as such.

 Just then Karen stepped out of the gloom and tapped Paula on the shoulder. Paula glanced in her direction, shrugged, muttering something about freshening our drinks, and stepped back.

 Karen replaced her, flowing into my arms as if she had always been there. Dancing with her was as effortless as gliding across a freshly frozen pond. I was keenly aware that the erection I had enjoyed rubbing against Paula's soft and compliant stomach was stiffer still as it met more resistance in Karen's midsection.

 She looked up at me. "Are you always like this?" she asked, deliberately bumping herself against my cock.

 "Only in the company of lovely ladies," I said. I listened in amazement and some embarrassment at the bold words I had just uttered. It was that damned rum talking!

 "Whatever it is," Karen continued, "I like it. I think most girls would be complimented -- I know I am." She tightened her grip around my neck, and I felt her small, firm breasts press tightly against my shirt front as she rested her head against my shoulder.

 I glanced around the room. Sarah was similarly entwined around David who was cupping her ass with both hands while they slowly shuffled around the floor. Rick was holding Willa much the same way. As Paula dimmed the lights, Karen stopped and took my hand. "Let's sit this one out," she said.

 She led me to the couch. "Ahhh, this is much better," she said, sinking gratefully into the cushions. "I had a long photo shoot today, and I'm just a wee bit weary. Besides, my feet hurt."

 "I'm good at rubbing feet," I said, again surprising myself by my unaccustomed boldness.

 "That would be lovely," Karen replied, "But would you be a dear and bring me another drink, first?" 

 I nodded and walked across the room to the bar. I felt another twinge in my hardened cock when I noticed in the gloom that Sarah and David seemed to have forgotten the music or that they were supposed to be dancing. Instead, still standing in the middle of the room, they were locked in a passionate embrace, mouths joined, one of his hands under her skirt, massaging her ass while his other was around her shoulders. Sarah was also busy, one hand vigorously rubbing the lump in his trousers while her other arm was looped around his neck.

I didn't see them at first, but as I stood at the bar, pouring another glass of punch for Karen and one for myself, movement in a far corner of the room attracted my attention. I felt a twinge of jealous envy when I realized that Rick was seated in an old overstuffed chair, his pants open, while Willa was on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock deep into her throat -- she had never done that for me. It looked as if Willa's dress was puddled around her waist and Paula knelt behind her, her hands massaging Willa's bare breasts.

 I hurried back across the small dance floor to the couch where Karen sat. She smiled as she reached for her glass. "Thanks, Pete. Remember your promise?" She held a foot up.

 I glanced down and saw that she had kicked her shoes off. "Of course," I said, although I had forgotten it. I sat on the other end of the couch. Karen swung around and put her feet in my lap. 

 I began massaging her arches and her toes. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Oh, Pete, if only you knew how wonderful that feels. . ." she said, digging her heels against my tumescence.

 I wasn't sure what felt so wonderful, but I was enjoying myself, becoming increasingly aroused as I watched David sucking on Sarah's bare breasts while they lay on the same rug Paula and I occupied during our initial swing with the O'Conners. She had opened David's pants and was stroking his stiff cock at the same time.

  Evidently, Sarah had curing him of any impotence he might have experienced.

 Karen's heels were digging more insistently into my hard-on. I glanced back at her, and discovered that her skirt had mysteriously risen to mid thigh. Then, as I watched, she deliberately raised one knee, causing her skirt to slide down her leg, exposing not her panties, but a bald delta with an intriguing seam that disappeared between her thighs.

 I know I must have gawked like a schoolboy as I stared at her tiny slit. And it was tiny. Her outer lips were tightly closed, giving her mons the appearance of a young girl's. I was instantly reminded of Ruthie's young pussy, although Ruthie did have a sparse scattering of genital hair.

 I shot a quick look into her face, and discovered she was watching me with a look of amusement. "My feet aren't the only part of me that needs a massage," she said.

 I ran my hands up over the calves of her legs, and began teasing the tender warm skin of her inner thighs. She reached down and gripped my wrists, pulling my hands into her delta. "This is the part of me that really needs a massage," she said as she spread her thighs.

 Her bald vulva was as smooth as a baby's ass. I leaned over while spreading her vulva's folds with my fingers, and delicately touched the pink inner lining with the tip of my tongue, slowly moving my head up until I encountered a pronounced bump. I no sooner closed my lips over her hooded clitoris, gently sucking while humming "Old Man River" deep in my throat, when I heard her gasp.

 "Ohhh, my God!!" she breathed. "I'll give you ten minutes to stop that!"

 Encouraged, I repeated the maneuver, only this time, I tried to penetrate her inner labia with the tip of my tongue. She responded by pulling her legs back with her hands, exposing her rectum and perineum. 

 I can take a hint as well as the next guy, so I touched the rim of her rectum, then wet and tickled the tiny area between her rectum and vulva with my tongue, and was rewarded with, "Ohhh, yessss! That's the spot!"




My Loving Family Ch. 15



The seam between her thighs that had seemed so tight and virginal a few minutes earlier, now had quite a different appearance. Her outer labia had darkened and unfolded, exposing her inner labia. I inserted a crooked finger into her vagina, and began searching for the slightly roughened area in the wall of her vagina that indicated her "G spot." 

Meanwhile, with my other hand, I stretched the skin near the top of her vulva, which exposed her clitoris, which I took between my wet lips. The intoxicating odor and flavors of her secretions had caused my cock to swell to unbelievable proportions, so to relieve my discomfort as I lay between her thighs, I had lowered my zipper and freed my swollen cock from its encumbering underwear. Karen's head was restlessly turning from side to side as I licked and tickled her pussy, but now she seized my head with both hands. "I need you in me right now!" she hissed.

 In an instant, I raised myself over her. Her legs were on my shoulders. My cock met a temporary resistance as it parted her inner lips, then slowly sank into her body as it parted the slick membranes that line her vagina.

 While I was thrusting into her, she kept hunching herself up to meet me. Both her hands were on my ass, trying to hurry my penetration. "Ohhh, this feels so gooood!" she whispered. "Take your time. I want this to last!"

 I leaned down and, for the first time, kissed her pouting mouth. Our tongues met and caressed. But then I heard Sarah's orgasmic moan and was suddenly aware of the curious little gasps Willa makes as her orgasm approaches.

 Karen wiggled under me. "Don't go to sleep on me!"

 She had my undivided attention. Slowly at first, savoring the novelty of her physical presence and every subtle nuance of her love-making technique, I began moving in her, but spurred on by the erotic sounds around me in addition to the beautiful blonde under me, I began to fear that I might disappoint her by coming too soon, so I deliberately slowed my pace again.

 However, Karen was so abandoned in her responses to my plundering cock that I soon lost conscious control over my movements. Almost without being aware of it, I began a series of strokes as deep into her belly as it was possible for me to go, wishing I could thrust my entire being into that magic well of life, and I felt my eruption deep inside me begin its urgent journey through my cock and into her straining body. 

 Karen suddenly threw her arms tightly around me, pulling me down against her. I felt her body undulate and shudder as she experienced a series of orgasms. This opened my flood gates, and I hurled myself even deeper into her body as my cock began to spasm.

 Karen had recovered fully while I was ejaculating and lay under me, enjoying her golden afterglow. "I think this is the first time I've fucked while fully dressed since high school," she murmured. "It's good to meet you, sir. You're really a very good piece of ass."

 Sharing her happy mood, as I slowly regained my breath, I responded, "I'd like to compliment you, madam. Your wiggles were superb."

 I softened rather quickly, and soon slipped out of her. She gave me a push to indicate she wanted to sit up. I quickly stood and zipped my pants up. Karen also stood, but she cupped her hand over her vulva and ran for the lavatory in the corner.

(To be continued)



My Loving Family Ch. 16



Synopsis: Pete and Sarah enjoy new partners.

Part III -- Our Story

Chapter Sixteen

After that initial meeting, we were invited to the Olerud mansion -- that's really the only accurate way of describing the stately Victorian era home that David's grandfather had built shortly after the turn of the last century -- at least twice a month. 

Since the Oleruds had no children and no live-in domestic help, their's was the only logical venue for the sort of parties that Sarah and I both enjoyed. 

It was equally convenient for Rick and Paula, since their two teenagers still lived at home, although the older boy, Fred, had graduated and was a sophmore in a local community college, while Seth, his younger brother was set to graduate from high school in the spring. 

Perhaps it was only to be expected, but Nonnie had begun seeing one lad exclusively -- he was a newly minted pharmacist named Roger Carlson. I don't know this for a fact, but if true, it's a wonderful irony, because Sarah insists they met when Nonnie went to have her prescription for birth control pills refilled. Roger was a polite young man, and I know Sarah liked him.

Meanwhile, Ruth and Seth were thrown together during some of our family excursions, and soon developed a relationship of their own. Willa encouraged it, and soon, with Willa's blessing, Seth was spending several nights a week in Ruth's room. 

The Olerud social guest list was a long one, but for the sort of parties I enjoyed the most, it included only a half dozen couples and two single men, one of whom, Kenny, was Karen's photographer. I never learned how the other single man fit into the group, although Sarah told me that he was in an "open" marriage, and came to our parties when his wife was entertaining one of her lovers at home.

Our little swing club became a permanent fixture on our social calendar. Even on the rare Friday nights when Sarah had a late dinner date, I would attend, usually with Willa, but if she was otherwise occupied, then I'd go stag. Until one Friday evening that I'll remember for the rest of my life. 

It was an Olerud night, but I just didn't feel like getting the car out and driving through a blizzard to get there. Sarah and Willa were out on one of their rare double dates. Young Seth had joined the two girls and me for dinner, but shortly after the dishes were put away, he and Ruth disappeared into Ruth's room.

Nonnie and I watched TV for a time. Then, bored with the insipid program we were watching, I picked up a pocket book I had bought at a newsstand on the way home, and turning away from the TV, began to read. Soon I was engrossed in the story. It was well written with believable characters in real life circumstances that included many scenes of explicit and well described sexual activity. 

The descriptions were so graphic, in fact, that I felt myself becoming aroused, and once I even had to adjust my cock so it was more comfortable in my tight jeans. I scarcely noticed when Nonnie quietly turned off the TV and went to bed.

So, wishing Sarah (or Willa, or Paula, or Karen, or any of the other sexual partners I had enjoyed during the previous year) was waiting for me to relieve the pressure I felt in my semi-stiff cock, I laid the book down, turned off all but the hall light, and went to bed.

I knew Sarah had come home early from the office and had taken a nap in preparation for the evening activities, so I wasn't surprised that the bed covers were rumpled and turned back and scarcely glanced at the bed as I undressed and, after turning out the light, slipped into bed. 

"Do you always sleep naked?"

If I was startled by her voice, it was nothing compared to the sudden feel of her cool hand closing around my cock!

"What the hell. . .what the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.

"What do you think?" Nonnie coolly replied. "I was sitting in the living room watching your cock grow as you read that dirty book. Then, after I went to my room, I could hear Seth and Ruth fucking. I know you fucked Ruthie --so I decided it was my turn tonight. I came in here and waited for you. When I saw your cock swinging in the breeze, I knew you'd be ready for me! God knows I'm ready for you!"

For once in my life I was speechless, but my cock had responded for me as Nonnie continued to stroke it, pausing from time to time to reach between my thighs and cup my scrotum in her hand.

"Ummm, you men have such wonderful equipment," she continued.

I was still trying to sort through the many ramifications Nonnie had suddenly presented. We all knew she had been sexually active for at least three years, but Sarah's daughter in bed with me? I had no idea how Sarah might react to that. However, my misgivings evaporated, as her gentle fondling caused almost continual sparks to ignite in my scrotum.

I had been softly stroking her back and side while we talked. She abruptly rolled over on top of me, pressing her firm young breasts tightly against my bare chest. She released my hard cock and threw her arms around my neck, squirming against me while she fastened her hot seeking mouth against my lips. 

As I hugged her tight against me, and began to respond to her sudden assault, her wicked little tongue slipped into my mouth. We lay quietly for a moment, each rejoicing in the feel of warm, living skin.

I turned, rolling her off of me. In a moment, I kissed and licked the side of her neck, her shoulder, and down to her perky little breast. Then I began sucking and nibbling on her nearest nipple while teasing the other by gently tugging and twisting it. 

Nonnie began pumping my cock as if urging me to get on with the program, but I wanted this to be special; something she might remember for the rest of her life.

I began to lick and kiss my way down to her navel, which I dampened with the tip of my tongue and then tickled with my warm breath as I gently blew into it. Proceeding further, I passed over her nearly invisible pubic hair, and moved down so my body was lodged between her thighs.

She raised her knees, expecting me to enter her, but instead, I licked and kissed the inside of her thighs, nibbling very gently on her tender skin, first on one side, then on the other, gradually working my way toward the garden that lay between her thighs. 

I continued to play with her nipples as I inched forward. When my nose reached her hair, I was rewarded with a swift intake of her breath. I thought she might try to stop me, but instead her legs opened even wider. 

Laying her hair to one side, I let the tip of my tongue trace an outline around her vulva, taking care to leave a trail of moisture behind. Then I blew on the moist surface.

Her thighs abruptly closed on my ears. I hunched myself a little closer, then with the pointed tip of my tongue, softly caressed the length of her slit, from bottom to top. When I reached the top, I touched a hard little nubbin, and she jumped as if she had received an electric shock. 

Her hands seized the back of my head and she tried to pull me closer into her pussy, but I resisted as long as I was able, despite her urgent pleas to "Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck your hot little Nonnie!"

When I did rise above her, she quickly steered my cock in the right direction, and as I pressed myself against her opening, I felt a distinct plop as the head of my cock slipped inside her inner labia. 

Even though my body was screaming for release as loudly as hers, I paused and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. Then I kissed her mouth, eyelids and cheeks, and slowly began forcing my member into her. She was very wet, but her vaginal tissues yielded reluctantly as I thrust again, and again until my pubic bone ground against hers.

Her vagina was tighter, if that was possible, than Ruth's. Again I held her in a tight embrace, even though she began impatiently rocking her pelvis against mine. Then we began to fuck.

I lifted her legs to my shoulders, and with my hands on her shoulders, began to drive myself into her, harder, harder, harder. Her face contorted while she began making soft grunting sounds and leveraged her pelvis up to in time to meet my thrusts. Her moans and grunts gradually grew louder and louder as my passions drove me to ever greater efforts. It never occurred to me that the kids in the next room, Ruth and Seth, could plainly hear us through the thin apartment walls.

I don't know how long we fucked. Her hot, clasping tunnel was turning me inside out, and I began desperately trying to wedge my entire body in her well of life, when, without warning, my cock began to spasm and squirt my seed deep inside her belly.

I was so preoccupied with my own delicious feeling of relief that I was floating down to earth before I felt her stomach muscles begin to undulate while her arms pulled me tightly against her breast.

We lay that way for several minutes before she sighed. "Daddy, that was good, but you're getting awfully heavy."

I abruptly remembered where I was, and with whom, and felt an instant rush of guilt. "I don't know how your mom will take this," I said tentatively as my now flaccid cock slid from her cunt.

"I'm not worried," Nonnie said. "It's not as though we were doing anything behind her back, you know."

"Yes, but still . . ."

"Hush!" Nonnie said. With youthful exuberance, she threw her slender upper torso across mine again, squirming her firm little breasts against my hairy chest. Tiny sparks began firing in my scrotum again as I distinctly felt her bullet-like nipples move across my chest. Again, she fastened her mouth tightly against mine. "I've had the hots for you ever since I was a little girl," she said. "Remember when we met you at the train station? I was jealous of Mom even then!"

She paused and resumed scattering small kisses across my face. "One reason I wanted to call you daddy was because even then I knew about incest -- it's so deliciously naughty -- and I wanted to be your little girl. Now I am," she added proudly.

I didn't know how to respond so I contented myself with giving the girl another tight hug and a wet, open mouthed kiss. Nonnie gave me one last hug, then sat up. "I never know when Mom will get home," she said. "I'm sure she'll be OK with me fucking you, but I don't want her to find me asleep in her bed when she comes home. Ruth and Seth have probably shot their wad, so maybe I can get some sleep, now. Besides," she added, you've given me a lot to think about. Goodnight, Daddy-lover." With that, she slipped out the bedroom door and presumably returned to her own room.

Sarah broached the subject the next morning while we were sitting at the kitchen island sipping our coffee. "Is there something you want to tell me, Pete?"

The guilty feeling I had experienced the previous evening returned in spades! "Well, ahh, yes, I guess there is," I said reluctantly.

Mentally cringing, I went on, "Nonnie and I . . .well, we sort of got it on last night. We didn't plan it," I added hastily, "it just happened."

Sarah regarded me silently for a moment. Then she said quietly, "I'm glad you told me, Pete. That means a lot to me." 

"I don't understand."

"A woman always knows when another woman has been in her bed. I could smell Nonnie's scent on the pillow." She paused, then continued, "The reason I'm glad you told me is because I want to feel I can trust you, no matter how embarrassing the truth may be. I can't imagine anything more embarrassing than having to tell your wife that you fucked her daughter!"

"You're not mad, then?"

"Of course not, you fool! I knew it would happen sooner or later! Nonnie's old enough to make up her own mind." Sarah lowered her voice. "How did she get you into bed?"

Sarah found my account of the evening's events highly amusing. "With all the sex going on around here, we're going to have a problem keeping track of who's who."

Sarah was prescient. But even she couldn't have guessed the next startling development in our growing entanglement with the O'Conners and Oleruds.

As usual, Sarah and I were spending a Saturday evening with the O'Conners in their basement rec room. Paula seemed unusually buoyed, acting as if she had come into money from a distant relative. Rick, on the other hand, was unusually somber. Somehow nobody seemed in the mood for fun and games, so we simply sat in a circle drinking Rick's beer and exchanging humorous anecdotes.

Sarah had just told the O'Conners how I had been bushwacked by Nonnie, when Paula seemed about ready to explode. Rick knew what was coming, and he frowned at his wife. "Even as close as Sarah and Pete are to us, Paula," he began, "I think some things should not be discussed."

"Oh, come on, Rick," Paula said, "lighten up! I did it once and I plan to do it again no matter what your precious Father Donovan has to say." Then she turned to us. "I think Fred's old enough to be included in our games -- after all, he's almost 21. Where could he get a better sex education than with experienced women like us?"

We sat quietly contemplating Paula's outburst. Slowly the implications of what she had said began to sink in, but as usual, Sarah was way ahead of me. "Do you mean you've . . ." Sarah seemed to have trouble finding the words she wanted.

"If you're trying to find a tactful way of asking me whether I fucked my son," Paula said, staring levelly at Sarah, "then let me spare you the trouble. The answer is yes."

"God damn it!" Rick exclaimed, "it's bad enough that you did it. There's no reason to spread the news! I still think you should be very ashamed of yourself!" Rick got to his feet. "I'm going upstairs for a while. There's more beer in the frig."

Rick disappeared up the stairs. Sarah reached over and took one of Paula's hands between her own. "Dear, don't feel that you have to say any more. . ."

"But I want to!" Paula exclaimed. "Rick won't talk about it and I'm just bursting to tell someone!" 

The mental picture of lanky young Fred mounting his plump mother was both erotic and funny, but I felt an involuntary twitch in my cock as I imagined the possibilities.

"OK," Sarah said, "you already know more about me than I'd care to share on the front page of tomorrow's newspaper, so fire away. You can be sure whatever you want to tell us will stay in this room."

Paula nodded. "That's true," she said. "Well, it all began about six months ago when I accidentally walked into his room and caught him masturbating over a tattered copy of Playboy. He was lying on his back. He couldn't see me because he was holding the magazine in front of his face. For some reason I cannot explain, I stood in the doorway watching as his fist began moving so fast on his stiff cock that it seemed almost to blur.

"Like most mothers with normal growing boys, I had found wadded up tissues stiff with his dried semen under his bed, and even occasional streaks of crusted semen on his sheets, so it wasn't a surprise to see him playing with himself, but I was surprised and a little frightened by my reaction to it.

"I was actually weak in the knees, and suddenly felt that wonderful itchy empty feeling in my belly. At the same time, I could feel my panties getting damp. My first unbidden thought when I realized what I was watching was to wonder what his cock would taste like -- hardly a suitable reaction for a boy's mother.

"I was instantly ashamed of myself, but I found I couldn't tear my eyes away as he began to ejaculate several strings of thick, cream colored semen that landed on his stomach and coated his hand.

"Naturally, I stepped back out of his line of sight before he lowered his magazine, so I'm sure he never realized I had seen him. But I had, and I found, during the days and weeks that followed, that often while I was washing dishes, or cleaning house, that a mental picture of Fred's cock spitting his seed would come to mind.

"When I saw him, it was even worse. It got to where I couldn't see him, even sitting at the dining room table, without picturing his beautifully hardened cock.

"Almost without realizing it, I was developing a crush on my oldest son! Rick noticed it before I did because he commented that I seemed to be entering my second childhood early, the way I was dressing and behaving. He encouraged it, thinking it was the result of the parties we were having with you and the Oleruds.

"Actually, I surprised myself when I found I was actually dressing for and flirting with Fred. I "accidentally" left the bathroom door ajar, for instance, when I was taking a shower, and began wearing only a thin housecoat -- no bra or panties -- around the house, especially when I knew he and his friends would be in the house.

"I managed, almost every time, to "accidentally" let one of the boys see a tit or a nipple, and I was always gratified afterwards when I stepped out of the room, to hear their frank comments to each other (and to Fred) about his sexy mom.

"Things came to a head last weekend. As you know, Rick and Dave were off on their annual hunting expedition. Fred had to write a paper for his history class, so he stayed home, but Seth had gone with the men. After supper, Fred sat at the dining room table working on his paper, while I was in my chair across the room crocheting a Christmas present for Rick's mother. 

"I couldn't keep my mind on my work, but kept glancing at Fred, admiring his broad shoulders and the set of his manly jaw. I let myself dwell on the electrifying memory of his spurting cock, and for the first time, consciously wondered how that cock would feel in me! I felt myself begin to grow moist at the thought, although I really tried to push it out of my mind, but almost unconsciously, I stood and crossed the room. 

"Almost in a trance, I found myself standing behind Fred's chair. I put my hands on his shoulders and began kneading the muscles in his neck and shoulders, saying, 'You look tired, son.'

"Fred leaned back, resting his head against my warm breast. 'Ummm, that sure feels good, Mom,' he said. I wasn't sure whether he was referring to my half naked bosom, or the way I was massaging his shoulders, but I leaned over him slightly, sliding my hands under his loose shirt collar, and began to rub his chest. One breast fell out of the front of my housecoat touching his ear. He turned his head, and kissed it. My knees nearly buckled as I felt his lips touch the side of my breast.

"I said, 'That felt nice, too. Do it again.' He turned his body then and captured my naked breast in both hands, bringing my nipple to his mouth. I'll tell you, I almost came when I felt his lips close over my nipple! Then he began to suck my nipple, and I suddenly found I had to sit down.

"Come over to the couch," I said, "so I can sit down."

"I didn't need to say it twice. He was up, out of his chair, in a flash, and followed me to the couch. I knew, now, what I was going to do, and I was thrilled to see the lump in his pants. We sat side by side. He seemed hesitant, but I put my arms around his neck and pulled him down so I could reach his mouth with mine. The moment our lips touched, tiny rockets began firing in my dampness and my nipples suddenly began to itch.

"His lips parted slightly as I pressed my tongue against them, and I was incredibly gratified to feel his hand tentatively slide into the opening of my housecoat and gently cup a breast.

"I can't begin to describe the thrill that shook my very being when he extended his thumb and began to caress the top of my nipple. 'I want to see you, Mom -- all of you,' he said.

"I released his neck and shrugged the housecoat off my shoulders. I knew, of course, that my sagging old tits couldn't begin to compare with the hard little tits his girlfriends had, but you never would have guessed it from the reverent way he lifted each breast to his mouth, or the loving licks and kisses he put on them. When he lightly scraped a nipple between his teeth, I thought I would pass out from the sheer waves of darting sensation that seemed to center in my pussy.




My Loving Family Ch. 16



"Unbidden, my left hand was rubbing the hard lump in his pants. 'Take it out,' I whispered. 'I want to see it and feel it.' 

"Obligingly, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. Then he raised himself, sliding his pants and underpants down to his knees.

"At first, of course, I had eyes only for the beautiful erection that sprouted from a mat of coarse black hair. Like the rest of him, his cock was a beautiful light chocolate color, and seemed ready to burst with his excitement. I seized it in my hand, striping back his foreskin, and was thrilled to realize it was as large, if not larger than his father's!

"I was almost faint with need by this time." She paused, looking in my direction. "You know how hot I can get, Pete!"

I nodded. She continued, "I scooted away from him, back to the arm of the couch. Then I lifted my right leg over him, and hooked it over the back of the couch. 'I want to feel you in me,' I said, 'right now!'

"But Mom . . ." When I heard him begin to protest, I went a little crazy! I reached up and pulled him down on top of me, holding him tightly in my arms. He was trembling, so I soothed him as I did when he was little. At the same time, I worked one hand down between us, and found his cock which I held against my labia, as I began to wiggle down and work my pelvis until -- blessed relief -- I felt his cockhead pop inside my hot, wet cunt.

"He felt it too, of course, and the shy, hesitant boy suddenly disappeared, to be replaced by a man driven with a need to plant his seed in a fertile garden as securely as possible. Young men are so driven!

"I could feel his entire body, from the heavy muscles in his thighs and flexing buttocks to his expanded chest and tense neck muscles, working as he pounded himself into me. Much too soon, his body became rigid as I felt his cock spasm, squirting his essence into me. At that moment, I was so stunned by my own crashing orgasm that I nearly lost consciousness.

"He momentarily slumped in my arms as he tried to gain control over his breathing. I expected him to soften and slide out of me, but I had forgotten how very virile young men can be.

"He never softened, but as his breathing slowed, he began sliding himself in and out. I quickly began to respond. This time, he lasted a long time, and I was beginning to tire before I felt him convulse and begin to fill me once again with his seed.

"That's how it started."

Sarah and I stared at Paula for a moment. My cock was so hard that it was beginning to ache. Then Sarah said, so quietly that I almost didn't hear her, "That's the most erotic thing I ever heard! Have you fucked him since?"

Paula slowly nodded. "That's why Rick is so pissed off," she said. "We slept together that first night, and the next morning I was so sore, I could barely walk."

"Wow!," Sarah breathed, her eyes shining with excitement.

"You're not disgusted with me?"

"Heaven's no," Sarah said. "You've only made me wet and envious."

"And you, Pete? How do you feel?"

Before I could answer, Sarah reached over and patted the growing lump in the front of my pants. "Does that look like he's upset?" she asked.

"Thank you -- thank you both," Paula said softly.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did Rick find out?" Sarah asked.

"I told him," Paula said. "I couldn't keep something like that from him. Besides, when they got back from their trip, Fred and I had been going at it almost non-stop except for snacks and brief naps for two days, and the house looked and smelled like it, too."

"What happens next?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not sure. It just depends on whether Rick can accept the idea. I think he will. I'd like to bring Fred into our parties." She paused, then said almost in an aside to Sarah, "I had forgotten how good a young lover can be! I'm sure you and Willa and Karen would enjoy him."

Sarah happily nodded.

"I look at it this way," Paula continued. "I can't get pregnant; I've had my tubes tied, and like I told Rick, giving a youngster like Fred a chance to learn how to please an older partner is just about the best gift we can give him."

"Willa feels the same way. I don't know whether you realize it, but she persuaded my husband, here, to teach Ruthie the fundamentals before she and Seth became an item."

Paula visibly perked up. "I guess we're not so far apart in our thinking after all!"

The telephone suddenly rang. Rick answered it upstairs, then we heard him run down the stairs. "There's been a terrible accident! Karen asked her nurse to let us know. I'm going to the hospital now. Do you want to come, too?" 

To be continued



My Loving Family Ch. 17



Synopsis: Both Pete and Paula have sex with their children -- in Pete's case, with his step-daughter, Nonnie, and in Paula's case with her son, Fred. There was a phone call from the hospital.

Part III - Our Story

Chapter Seventeen

David was gone. The Olerun Jaguar had been virtually crushed by a head-on collision with an on-coming pickup truck that had somehow crossed the centerline. The driver's side had been obliterated. Dave probably never knew what had hit him.

Karen was still in surgery when we arrived at the hospital. We spent nearly two unhappy hours pacing the tiny waiting room and trying to console one another before a solemn faced surgeon wearing traditional hospital garb came into the room.

"Mrs. Olerud survived the surgery," he began, "but I hesitate to hold out too much hope. She was fearfully mangled, but she's young and otherwise healthy, so I expect her body to heal.

"We're primarily concerned because her windpipe was crushed, and we're not sure how long she was deprived of oxygen, so there's no way of predicting whether her brain lost any of its function. We'll know more when she wakes up -- if she does."

Everyone began speaking at once, but the doctor held up a hand and we fell silent. "There's nothing you can do tonight, so I suggest you go home. As matters stand at present, if she regains consciousness, we'll allow two visitors tomorrow for only a few minutes. Since she has no known relatives, you can decide among yourselves which two it will be. That's all I have for you tonight. I wish I could be more encouraging." He turned and left the room.

We were a silent, thoughtful bunch as we trooped back to Rick's car. We had very little to say as we reflected on the tragedy that had befallen the Olerudes.

Nothing was said on the long drive back to the O'Conner house. When we reached the house, I stepped out of the back seat and turned toward our car, but ever practical Sarah had other ideas. "I think we ought to decide tonight which of us will visit poor Karen tomorrow," she said.

Rick said, "Well, I knew David as well or better than my own brother," he said. "I should be one of the two."

We all nodded. He was right. "Would it be all right if I went with you, Rick?" Sarah asked. "Unless Paula wants to go, of course."

Paula shook her head. "Hospitals depress me," she said. "If you want to go, Sarah, be my guest." We agreed on a time to meet, and then parted. Karen had barely regained consciousness the following afternoon when Rick and Sarah were allowed 15 minutes with her. "She seemed to know who we were and where she was," Sarah said hopefully. 

Rick shook his head. "Well, maybe," he said doubtfully. "I didn't get that much out of a single hand squeeze."

"But the doctor seemed more hopeful, today," Sarah insisted.

Rick slowly nodded his head. "That's true," he said. "But he was still very guarded concerning her ultimate recovery."

And so it went for the next 10 days. But then, Rick and Sarah returned from their brief visit, both wearing pleased smiles. "She spoke to us today," Sarah announced. "She's still not out of the woods, of course, but the doctor thinks her amnesia is only temporary; and that her brain seems not to have suffered any permanent damage."

Paula and I heaved a collective sigh of relief. "That's just great," I said, expressing, I'm sure, what we all felt.

Karen's memory continued to improve over the next three months. Shortly before she left the hospital, she advertised for a live-in nurse- housekeeper. She interviewed several applicants, but none of them were satisfactory.

When she left the hospital, she still could walk only with the aid of a walker, so Sarah invited her to stay in the apartment until other arrangements could be made. Nonnie had moved in with Roger -- they planned to be married in the spring -- so her room came Karen's bedroom. Willa was home most of the time, and the two women became practically inseparable, although they were a generation apart.

As Karen continued to gain strength, she naturally became increasingly restive, wanting to return to the home she had shared with David.

Willa volunteered to accompany her. Ruthie, naturally, wanted to remain with her mother, so in a relatively short span of time, the old Olerun mansion became our social center.

Meanwhile, our weekend swings with the O'Conners became history. That was partly because of David's death, but it was also a consequence of the increasing friction between Fred and his dad. 

Apparently, Rick suspected that Fred and his mother were still enjoying incestual sex. In Rick's eyes, there was no greater sin than that. I'm not sure whether Rick's suspicions were well founded, but Sarah seemed to think they were.

"If you know what to look for," she said, "you can always tell when a middle-aged woman has a young lover," she said. "There's an indescribable something about the way they look and move that indicates the smug satisfaction of a woman in possession of a young cock. Paula has that look."

Things usually work out for the best. Because of his constant attention to Ruthie, young Seth had virtually become the man of the Olerud house. However, some tasks were simply beyond his young strength. When that happened, he often asked his older brother for help.

Fred evidently found the atmosphere in the Olerud house far more congenial than the constant tension he experienced at home -- and it wasn't long before he transferred his sexual allegiance from his mother to Willa! And possibly even Karen, although I was never sure of that.

One Saturday morning, while we were enjoying a leisurely breakfast, Sarah said, "You know, sweetheart, I miss the good old days when we were never sure, when we woke up on Saturday morning, who our bed mate was likely to be. Don't you?"

I nodded. "Me, too," I said.

"The kids are gone; there's no reason why we can't invite the O'Conners over for the weekend, is there?"

My cock stirred in happy rememberance of Paula's musky flavors when she was ready to be fucked. "None at all," I said emphatically. "I'm ready when you are."

"I'll give Paula a call," Sarah said. "Why don't you talk to Rick at work and see how he feels?" At first, Rick was dubious about continuing our swinging parties. "I'll be straight with you, Pete. Paula and I have been going through a rough patch lately, and I'm not sure how she might feel." He cocked an eyebrow at me and grinned, adding, "But I wouldn't mind partying with Sarah again."

"If Paula doesn't feel up to it, how about a threesome with Sarah?"

Rick rubbed his hands together. "Anytime!" he said heartily.

When I reported back to Sarah, she smiled at the thought of two lovers. "But I don't think that's wise under the present circumstances -- at least not with Rick." She paused. "I could call Paula, but you've given me an idea. Suppose we find another man? Believe it or not, I've never had a threesome, but I've always been curious."

"Maybe we're talking about two things at once, here," I said. "I think we both have an itch that needs to be scratched. Rick told me about a new swinger's club that just opened up in town. Suppose we go check it out?"

Sarah was quietly studying my face. "I have another idea," she said. "I don't know if it's a good idea or not; you'll have to be the judge of that. I received a call at the office the other day from a man named Paul Anderson. I dated Paul several times over the years. He's a nice man, and I think you'd like him. Anyway, he told me he would be in town for a couple of days toward the end of next week, and asked if I would care to have dinner with him. I'll bet he'd like to do a threesome. What do you think?"

As often and eagerly as I had helped Sarah prepare for her occasional nights out as the company escort, her dates had all been anonymous. The only thing I knew about them was that they were men. Suddenly, one of those nameless and faceless entities had become a real person, and I wasn't sure whether I was ready to face that reality, so I temporized. "How would you find out?"

Sarah, as the saying goes, could read me like a book. "Look, Pete, it was just an idea, that's all. It's nothing to get worked up about."

Feeling suddenly very foolish and immature, I demurred. "I didn't mean that," I said. "It's just that . . .well, I guess I find thinking about your dates exciting, but only in the abstract. Meeting one of them, knowing how he must regard me, makes me uncomfortable. Almost as if I were pimping you."

"Yes," Sarah said softly, "I can understand how you might feel that way, especially since you know I earn a "bonus" whenever I have a date, but my dates don't know that. I'll be honest with you, Pete. Now that your mine is beginning to pay off, we don't need that money -- if we ever did --but I find it exciting and sexually stimulating knowing I'm almost 40 years old, and am still sufficiently desirable to be paid for sex -- and that's what it really amounts to, you know. I think, as much as anything, that's why I was so grateful to you after we were married because you didn't ask me to give it up."

Sarah fell silent, then added, "I want you to know, Pete, that I love and respect you so much, that there is almost nothing I wouldn't do for you!" She smiled. "I knew my little adventures excited you; that's one reason I wanted to continue. Now, what about Paul?"

I wasn't really ready to make a commitment, but I slowly nodded. "OK, if you can make it clear to him before hand that we have an open marriage and that we each respect the other's right to enjoy other relationships."

"I can do that, darling," Sarah said. Her eyes were shining as she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a loving hug. "This is going to be such fun!" she whispered in my ear. "I can hardly wait!"

Despite my reservations, I found myself becoming increasingly excited at the prospect of actually watching one of Sarah's "dates" fuck her. Of course, I had seen her many times writhing passionately in David's arms and energetically thrusting herself up against Rick's pillaging cock, but those were recreational activities; I had never seen her fuck for money. That was, perhaps, a crass way of putting it, but something so deviant, so ... so sinful (what an old fashioned idea!) was, in a very perverse way, extremely exciting. 

Consequently, I felt a powerful sexual tension as I watched Sarah, fresh from her shower, prepare for our date. First, after dabbing a trace of scent behind her knees, on the inside of her thighs, behind her ears and between her breasts, she slid a wisp of black lace up her thighs. It barely covered her freshly shaven mons. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed, she slowly drew sheer, gray thigh-hi hose up her slender legs. 

She moved gracefully to the bench in front of her boudoir table and began applying her makeup. I never tired of watching her breasts sway as she moved her arms but perhaps I was a bit too eager. She half turned to face me. 

"Pete, your hovering is making me nervous. Please be a good boy and go fix us both a drink. Take your time; I do this better without an audience."

"OK," I said cheerfully, as I left the room. I belatedly realized that my nervous excitement was probably infectious. Anyone applying mascara needed a steady hand. Consequently, I fixed myself a drink and sat in the living room waiting for my bride to appear.

When she appeared, I whistled my appreciation. She whirled, and smiled down at me. "Think Paul will like this?" Sarah was dazzling in a dress I hadn't seen before. It was a very short, black dress with a decolletage cut so deeply that her cleavage was bare almost to her waist. The dark color emphasized her light coloring and drew immediate attention to the fact that her full breasts were unfettered. When she had whirled, a deep split in her skirt had flared revealing the lacy tops of her stockings.

Three inch heels completed her ensemble. Her hair was carefully arranged in a coil on her head, and it looked as if she had spent the afternoon in a beauty parlor. She wore a heavy coating of lipstick that with her heels and revealing dress, gave her a faintly sluttish look. 

I had an instant erection. "My god, you look like every man's wet dream! Know what I'd like to do right now?" 

Sarah looked down at the lump on my pants and smiled coquettishly. "Down, Tiger. There'll be plenty of time for that later. We have to call a cab, now, or we'll be late. Paul doesn't like waiting."

Soon we found ourselves following the maî'tre'd to our table in a dark corner of Brown's restaurant. Sarah had warned me that Paul was a big man, but the shadowy figure who rose to greet us was bigger than I had expected. He bent to give Sarah a welcoming kiss and extended his ham like hand to me. "I'm glad to have the opportunity to meet you, sir," he said formally as we shook hands.

I liked his firm grip. I murmured my greeting while sizing him up. Anderson was a big man; taller by a couple of inches and considerably heavier than me; yet he wasn't fat. He had a pleasant open face under short cropped blonde hair and an engaging smile. I could easily see why Sarah found him attractive.

Our table was round. Sarah slid onto the curved padded bench so she was seated between us. Anderson and I were almost -- but not quite -- facing each other. Sarah reached out and covered my hand with her right hand and Anderson's hand with her left. "I'm so glad the two most important men in my life have finally met," she said, looking first toward me, then toward Anderson. "You two have a lot in common. For one thing, you're both in the mining business. For another, you're both important to me." She gave my hand a little squeeze for emphasis.

Anderson lifted her hand and kissed it. "I swear, dear, you are more beautiful every time I see you." Then, still holding her hand, he looked across the table at me. "I salute you, sir. You are indeed blessed to have found this jewel."

I'm not much for hand kissing, and I was still trying to size Anderson up. "You're in the mining business, Mr. Anderson?" I asked.

"Please call me Paul. Yes, but not as directly as Sarah tells me you are. I'm just the financial officer in Gold Bay Ltd. Please tell me about your mining property." 

"My name is Pete," I offered. "There isn't much to tell. I'm just a damned lucky prospector." I then went on to tell him how Jack and I had stumbled across the molybdenite deposit while we were prospecting for gold, and how we had staked it after despairing of finding "color." Then, suddenly realizing I was talking too much, I fell silent.

Paul asked a couple of polite questions, mostly, I think, to show he had been paying attention. Then he turned toward Sarah again, and continued to flatter her. The waiter brought our drinks and took our dinner orders. Paul raised his glass. "Here's to the happy couple."

Sarah flashed a smile toward me and gave my hand another squeeze.

"Thank you, Paul," I said, "that's very kind of you." Then I raised my own glass and said, "Here's to our friendship."

Paul smiled broadly as he raised his glass. "Indeed," he murmured, "hear, hear." 

The waiter interrupted us. Later, while we were savoring glasses of after dinner Grande Marnier, Paul said, "I hope it wasn't presumptuous of me, but I took the liberty of reserving a table at the Cave, thinking it would give us an opportunity to become better acquainted."

He meant, of course, that it would give us two males a chance to see whether we wanted to go further. We were both well acquainted with Sarah on almost every possible level.

Sarah enthusiastically nodded her head. "That's wonderful, Paul. I was hoping I'd have a chance to show off my new dress."

Minutes later, we were shown to another round table, this time in the subdued lighting of a nightclub. The band was playing a swing tune from the '40s. Sarah put her purse on the table and turned to Paul. "Let's dance," she said, holding up her arms.


Paul smiled apologetically at me, and took her hand, leading her to the small dance floor. Seeing the two of them side by side made me realize what a giant Paul really was! I was surprised to feel pangs of anxiety gnawing in my belly. Frankly, I was torn. 

On the one hand, I was really looking forward to seeing Sarah in action with one of her "dates." On the other, if Paul's cock was in proportion to the rest of him, I had difficulty seeing how the three of us could possibly have a good time.

I don't mean to suggest that I was suffering from penis envy. I've never had complaints; but I was concerned that Sarah might not be able to accommodate him -- and then, just as quickly, I realized that Sarah knew all about the weapon Paul carried between his legs, and this, after all, was her party. 

Sarah was obviously enjoying herself as she clung tightly to Paul on the dance floor, but after a short set, when the band retired, Sarah was breathless when she led Paul back to our table. "Let's go back to the apartment. . ." Then she looked up at Paul, "Unless you'd rather we went to your hotel?"

I hadn't thought that far ahead, but somehow the idea of the three of us in our bed was disturbing. It's hard to explain, but I had managed to convince myself that Sarah's evening "dates" were something separate and apart from us, although I was eagerly looking forward to tonight's romp, but still, it felt better to keep it at arms length.

Consequently, before Paul could respond, I interrupted, saying "Paul's hotel is a lot closer than our apartment."

Paul looked pleased as he nodded. "You're right, Pete. Is the hotel OK with you, dear?" "As long as your room has a big bed," Sarah said, "it's fine with me."

During the brief cab ride to Paul's hotel, I tried not to notice as Sarah eagerly accepted Paul's embrace while their mouths joined in a marathon kiss. Her hand massaged his crotch while he reached inside her decolletage, and I saw the shadow of his fingers through the fabric manipulating her aroused nipple.

I looked away but even then imagined I could hear her licking and nibbling on Paul's lips. I definitely felt my cock stir as Sarah began softly moaning as she does when she's well on the way to becoming completely aroused.

We went straight across the hotel lobby to the elevators. I trailed behind the lovers who were walking with their arms around one another, feeling like a fifth wheel. Sarah must have sensed my mood, because she paused, waiting for me to catch up. Then she kissed me and wrapped an arm around my waist, so we entered the elevator three abreast. Once the doors closed, however, Paul swept her into his arms and held her tightly.

Again I felt a pang of unaccustomed anxiety -- or perhaps it was annoyance -- when I saw how eagerly she clung to his massive body with one hand behind his head and, tilting her head back, offered her open mouth to his. Their lips worked tightly together, nibbling and sucking, while their tongues met and teased. Both his hands were on her ass, lifting her, and holding her close to his groin where, I'm sure, his cock was stiffening against her warm, soft belly.

At the same time, however, I found that expression of unbridled lust incredibly arousing, and twice during the brief elevator ride found it necessary to adjust the uncomfortably growing lump in my own pants.

The elevator stopped at the eleventh floor. The lovers released each other, and as soon as the doors opened, hurried into the corridor. I followed close behind, and as Paul fumbled with the card to unlock his door, I was comforted to again feel Sarah's hand grasp mine.

The door swung open. Paul stepped aside, allowing Sarah and I to precede him into the room. He closed the door behind us. "Would you like a drink, Sarah? How about you, Peter? I have some of Sarah's favorite Chablis on the cooler and I also have some really good single-malt whisky."




My Loving Family Ch. 17



"Thank you, Paul. A glass would be nice." Sarah smiled her appreciation.

"I'll have what you're having, Paul," I said, adding, "good single-malt is always welcome." I mentally kicked myself for sounding like a pompous ass, but Paul merely nodded and turned to the side board. In a moment the three of us were sipping our drinks and somewhat uneasily eyeing each other. I was in a soft overstuffed chair. Paul was across the room on a settee, while Sarah sat perched on the end of the bed.

Abruptly she stood up. "I don't know about you guys," she said, "but I'm horny!" She reached behind her neck with both hands, releasing the catch at the top of her zipper and then shrugged her shoulders, allowing her dress to slide down her arms and puddle on the floor around her shoes.

I was as surprised as Paul. It was obvious she hadn't worn a bra, but I hadn't realized she had been equally naked below her waist. "Ta Da!" she called, as she stepped out of her dress and whirled around. Her cleft was bare of any genital hair and with her legs closed, looked like that of a young girl. 

Despite the fact that she was old enough to be a grandmother, her breasts sagged only very little, and clad only in her thigh-highs and heels, she was Aphrodite rising from the foam. "How come I'm the only one naked?"

The spell was broken. Paul got the jump on me. I had to unlace my shoes, but Paul had only to kick his loafers off, pull off his tie, unbutton his shirt and release his belt, so he was sitting on the end of the bed, pulling Sarah onto his bare lap while I was still struggling with my clothes. Well, that's the breaks!

By the time I was ready to join them, Paul was lying on his back, stretched full length on the bed. Sarah was on her knees leaning over him, holding the biggest cock I have ever seen and licking its swollen bulbous head. I couldn't even guess its size, but she was holding it in both hands like a baseball player holds a bat except her fingers could not close around it, and her hands were at least two inches apart!

Paul's eyes were closed. His left hand was idly caressing Sarah's breast and gently tweaking her hard little nipple. I could tell at a glance how aroused she was. A pink flush had spread across her back and her toes were curled. I stepped up behind her and ran my hand between her legs, touching her clitoris. 

She was so wet, moisture was trickling down her right thigh. She squatted back against my caressing hand. I knew what she wanted.

I pulled her back closer to the edge of the bed, and gently inserted the tip of my cock into her clasping tunnel. Then, holding her still with my hands on her hips, I drove myself into her with a single prolonged thrust. I heard her sigh with relief as she felt me fill what must have been an aching void. 

Although I desperately tried to prolong my climax by stroking in and out of her at a fairly slow pace, she hastened my end by restlessly thrusting herself back against my invading cock. All the while, her vaginal muscles were flexing like a milking machine, caressing, manipulating and encouraging me until I could hold out no longer. 

I felt those familiar tongs grip me across the small of the back at the same moment Sarah had her first orgasm. 

Her little body seemed to freeze and then begin an uncontrollable shuddering as I felt the exquisite agony of my seed beginning its long journey down my urethra and into my spasming cock. Instead of relaxing while my cock shrank in her sheath, she abruptly pulled away from my hard cock and threw her left leg over Paul's inert form sliding forward until her crotch was over his stomach.

Then she stuffed pillows under her knees to raise herself as high as possible and seizing it in her right hand, gently began to feed the tip of his cock into her dripping cunt. Aided, no doubt, by the semen I had just injected into her plus her own juices and her relaxed vaginal muscles, half of his monstrous cock slid into her little body quite easily.

She began to rock her torso back and forth, each time taking just a bit more of his rigid cock into her until only about two or three inches of his shaft remained outside her body. At that point, Sarah cut loose! 

Her face was contorted into a mask of concentration, her breasts bobbing and her hair flying wildly around her head as she began to bounce up and down on his cock. I had never seen her act as wantonly, as wildly, as she did impaled on Paul's stiff cock.

Her eyes were tightly closed and she began to moan through gritted teeth. "Oh, God, I'm COMING!" Her body stilled for a moment as she shuddered through a prolonged orgasm. A deep red flush crossed her face as her lips peeled back in a rictus grin, and she fell forward on Paul's chest. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace. His cock was still deeply embedded in her.

At that moment, I became aware that I was stroking my own cock which had been revived by the raw eroticism of the scene taking place on Paul's bed. Sarah began to stir -- I hadn't realized until then that she had actually passed out -- and Paul released her quivering body.

"I'm sorry, Paul,. . ." she began, but Paul silenced her with a loving kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry for, dear. I guess I'm more inhibited than I realized, so it's not your fault I didn't come." I knew, of course, he was referring to me.

Sarah scrunched forward allowing his still erect cock to slide out of her cunt. I distinctly heard a dull splat when it fell on Paul's stomach. Sarah quickly rolled to one side and turning, seized his glistening cock in both hands. 

Without saying a word, she began to lick the underside of his cock, paying particular attention to the juncture beneath its head where the nerve endings seem to be concentrated, while at the same time energetically sliding his foreskin back and forth.

Her dripping cunt was invitingly open as she kneeled by his side, so I stepped forward once again and slid my aching cock into her. I met no resistance as my stomach came to rest against her delightful ass. She had obviously been stretched, but as I worked myself back and forth, her vaginal muscles began retracting and gradually the pressures on my cock increased, At the same time, Sarah started thrusting herself back to meet me and she redoubled her efforts with Paul.

He came. I hadn't yet begun to concentrate on my own orgasm, and I was aware that he had been thrusting his cock with increasing vigor into her clasping hands. Suddenly he grunted, and a ropy stream of semen shot from his cock striking Sarah in the face. She was ready for his second spasm and directed it into her open mouth. She was still swallowing when the third ejaculation erupted, this time landing in her hair. It was then that I lost it. My erection wilted, and ignobly fell out of her cunt. 

I rolled onto the bed next to Paul. We moved apart creating a nest between us for Sarah who obligingly stretched out between us. "Wow," she said, "I haven't ever come like that before. I've just got to rest for a few minutes."

"Me, too," Paul said. "You did all the work, but I'm out of commission."

We lay cuddled together for perhaps half an hour before Sarah sat up. "I hate to be the party pooper, but I've got to get a shower and we've got to think about getting home. I have to go to work in the morning."

Then, somewhat to my surprise, she added, "Would you like to wash my back, Paul?" And I thought the party was over!

Actually, it was over. I didn't ask, and Sarah didn't volunteer any information on the way home, but I think she just wanted a few minutes alone with him. 

(to be continued)Synopsis: Both Pete and Paula have sex with their children -- in Pete's case, with his step-daughter, Nonnie, and in Paula's case with her son, Fred. There was a phone call from the hospital.

Part III - Our Story

Chapter Seventeen

David was gone. The Olerun Jaguar had been virtually crushed by a head-on collision with an on-coming pickup truck that had somehow crossed the centerline. The driver's side had been obliterated. Dave probably never knew what had hit him.

Karen was still in surgery when we arrived at the hospital. We spent nearly two unhappy hours pacing the tiny waiting room and trying to console one another before a solemn faced surgeon wearing traditional hospital garb came into the room.



My Loving Family Ch. 18



Synopsis: Pete and Sarah have a threesome with one of Sarah's "regulars."

Part III - Our Story

Chapter Eighteen

The first thing Sarah said the next morning as we sat down to eat breakfast was, "God, I feel like I was fucked by a Marine regiment! My pussy still feels stretched out of shape!"

Then she looked at me. "Paul asked me last night if we could get together again tonight?"

Honestly, I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I was still suffering what I think was a small emotional hangover, but on the other, remembering the intense eroticism I had felt as I watched my beloved impale herself on Paul's massive member, my cock evidently had other ideas, and it twitched as if to remind me of that fact. Still, I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of an encore. "Tell you what," I said slowly, "suppose we try something different." 

Seeing the expression on Sarah's face, I quickly added, "I know how you feel toward Paul, and I respect that. I was merely going to suggest we go for broke.

"Let's invite him over here," I said. "We can have a dinner catered in -- or, I could even fix my world famous Mulligan stew. There's no reason we should waste a lot of time and money in a fancy restaurant when we all know the purpose of the evening is to enjoy as much sex as possible." 

While my suggestion was almost an attempt to be flippant, it suddenly made a lot of sense. I knew I'd be more comfortable in my home surroundings and that the chance of the sort of intimacy I had found disturbing in the taxi the previous night was unlikely to be repeated here.

Sarah looked doubtful, but she was a good sport about it. "Do you think you'd be more comfortable here?"

I nodded. The more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

"OK, then," Sarah said, "but no Mulligan stew! Let's have a nice dinner catered in. I'll arrange it at the office. You might spend a few minutes picking things up around here so the place is halfway presentable."

Alas, the best laid plans . . . Sarah called shortly after noon. "Paul won't be able to make it. He's already left for his home office."

I can't say I shared the disappointment I heard in Sarah's voice, but I tried to console her. "There's always a next time, dear . . ." 

As it turned out, if Paul had been able to come to dinner, things might have become a little sticky. Willa, who had become an almost constant companion to Karen, unexpectedly came home almost immediately after dinner (I had fixed Mulligan stew, after all). Sarah was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I was very surprised to see Willa standing in the hall.

"Where's your key?"

She smiled apologetically. "I couldn't find it in this mess." She held up a crowded key ring. "I know it's there somewhere, but I was afraid that if you heard me trying every key until I found it, that you might have thought burglars were at the door!"

She followed me into the apartment and went directly into the kitchen. It was obviously time for some girl talk. I heard the low murmur of voices over the sound of the dish washer. After several minutes, Willa and Sarah came into the living room where I was reading the evening paper.

"Pete, Willa has a proposition for us. Hear what she has to say. I think she makes pretty good sense."

Sarah sat on the couch while Willa chose the chair directly across from mine. She came right to the point. "Pete, something has come up and I think maybe you and Sarah might be the solution."

She paused as if collecting her thoughts. I waited for the rest of it. "Karen had a check bounce this afternoon." She paused again, as if waiting for my comment.

"That's the way things happen, sometimes," I said philosophically.

"You don't understand, Pete. She's broke and she's terrified. All she owns is the house and part of the cabinet shop which hasn't been doing so hot lately. Apparently what money they had was spent on medical bills and David's funeral. The son-of-bitch who ran into them is dead and it turns out he didn't have any insurance. I know what it's like to be broke!

"Karen doesn't know I'm over here talking to you two -- she'd have a hissy if she did. She's planning to go to the bank tomorrow and take out a mortgage on her house -- but with her scars, her modeling career is over, and she really has no way of paying off any mortgage she might get." 

I started to ask what she thought we could do, but she silenced me by holding up her hand. Sarah spoke for the first time. "Let her finish, Pete."

"I got this brainstorm this afternoon. The Olerud house is a regular mansion. I know you've been over there plenty of times, but I'll bet you haven't seen the whole thing. There are at least six, maybe seven closed rooms upstairs that are sealed shut. The radiators in those rooms have been shut off and drained so they won't freeze. The same thing with the entire third floor. That's a lot of empty space. . ."

I was beginning to see where she was going. "You want us to give up the apartment and move into Karen's house? Is that the idea?" I thought Willa was going to kiss me.

"Well, yes," she said hesitantly. "But not all at once. I'm not at all sure how Karen would take it if you put it to her like that. She's a very proud woman and I'm sure would react badly if she thought for one minute that you were offering her charity. My idea is that Pete and Rick, both being carpenters, might suggest converting some of that house into an apartment --God knows it's big enough.

"Actually, half of Rick's family already lives there, but that's a different problem. One they'll have to settle. What do you think, Pete?"

"It does make sense," I said slowly. "How do you feel, sweetheart?" I asked turning toward Sarah.

"Like you, Pete, I think it's an interesting idea."

I turned back to Willa. "Where do we take it from here?"

"Maybe this would be a good time to see if Rick might be interested. I know he's a stubborn Mick, but this could give him an indirect way of reclaiming his family."

I nodded. "OK," I said. "I'll mention it to Rick tomorrow while we're having lunch, and see how he reacts." 

"I knew I could count on you two!" Willa said happily, The first thing I knew, Willa was sitting on my lap, both arms around my neck, her hot mouth fastened hungrily to mine.

It had been a long time since I had held Willa in my arms, but all my cock knew was that a hot and apparently willing female was squirming on my lap.

"It looks as if we might have a threesome after all," Sarah said in my ear as her clever hand insinuated itself between Willa's excited ass and my lap. "My, what DO we have here?"

As if it had a mind of its own, my right hand automatically cupped Willa's left breast, testing its resiliency and weight while my thumb pressed against her nipple.

"That feels so good, Pete," she whispered, reaching around to kiss me again. "You have no idea how good a man's hand feels." 

Her slight emphasis on the word "man's" reminded me that her most recent sex partners -- at least those I knew about -- were Rick's youngest son -- and possibly even his older brother (when Ruthie wasn't looking).

Truth be told, I really had no idea who was fucking whom in that household, but I was certain both young men had all the nooky they could handle. The image of a boy young enough to be Willa's son shoving his stiff young cock into her eager cunt -- and Sarah's patient manipulation -- was causing my cock to expand uncomfortably in my pants. 

"I don't mean to be impolite, Willa, but you're getting awfully heavy. . ."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pete. I felt Sarah's hand under my ass, but I had no idea I might be maiming you!" Yeah, sure.

Sarah stood. "I think we all have too many clothes on for comfort. What say we all peel down a little?"

Willa nodded happily and quickly reached behind herself to unbutton her skirt's waist band. Then, after lowering the zipper, she slid her skirt down and stepped out of it. She carefully folded it and laid it across the back of her chair. Then she began unbuttoning her blouse.

Sarah, meantime, had stepped out of her dress and was reaching behind her to release the clasp on her bra strap. "I know where it's more comfortable," she said, turning and running into our bedroom.

I never tire of watching any woman's tits bounce, quiver and sway as they move, and watching Willa's somewhat more pendulous bare breasts bob and sway as she followed Sarah, my cock grew even harder. I quickly kicked off my loafers, and slid my pants and boxers down and off. I pulled my t-shirt off and followed my hard cock which was pointing straight ahead as Willa disappeared into the bedroom.

By the time I caught up with the women, they were already clinging tightly together. Sarah was gently stroking Willa's face while hungrily feasting on her lips with her open mouth. Willa's arms were tightly wound around Sarah's restless body, holding her in a tight bear hug. Both women had their eyes closed.

My cock stirred as I watched Sarah's knee part Willa's legs. Since both women were lying on their sides, Willa had to lift her leg to give Sarah's thigh access to her doubtlessly very wet pussy. Sarah raised her leg and Willa began humping it much as a mongrel pup I had as a kid used to hump my leg.

I was torn. Like most men, I find it arousing and exciting to watch women make love, but at the same time, my cock would not be denied, not within sight and smell of two women in heat. I slid onto the bed spoon fashion behind Willa and reaching around her body, worked my hand between the women's warm, pliant breasts which were mashed tightly together.

I cupped Willa's breast. Her aroused nipple felt like a small stone against my palm, while Sarah's hard nipple teased the back of my hand. I worked my bottom leg under Sarah's and scooted as close as possible to Willa's back, so my extended cock rested snugly between her ass cheeks. Then I began slowly dry fucking her soft ass cheeks.

"Wait a minute," Willa's voice was muffled. She arched her back, tilting her ass toward me. Realizing what she had in mind, I pulled back, giving her more room to maneuver. 

As I readjusted myself, I discovered the tip of my cock had already found Willa's back door. I gave a gentle forward thrust, and felt my glans pop inside her anal sphincter muscle.

Other than a soft grunt, and a subtle squat against me, Willa gave no indication I had penetrated her. She continued rubbing her pussy against Sarah's thigh. Meanwhile, I was holding her hips, trying to work my cock more deeply into her bowels. Then, having reached as deeply as I could, I began a slow thrusting motion. 

Forgetting Sarah's thigh, Willa began pushing back against my invading cock. I think perhaps Sarah then realized what was going on because she withdrew her leg, replacing it with her hand. At the same time, she sucked one of Willa's breasts into her mouth.

It was a powerfully erotic feeling -- one I hadn't experienced before -- to feel Sarah's active fingers against my pecker through the thin membrane inside Willa, separating her cunt from her rectum. At the same time, Sarah managed to cup her hand so at the end of each inward thrust, my balls rested in her hand. 

This triple stimulation, plus the overheated condition I was in at the beginning, all combined to shorten my fuse, and long before I was ready, and despite a desperate mental recitation of the national hockey standings, I felt the beginning of a monumental tidal wave of an ejaculation building in my loins, and before I knew it, I had Willa's waist in a death grip as I attempted to thrust my entire body into her hot rectum.

With enormous relief, I felt my seed explode from my straining cock in a series of huge spasms. Almost immediately, my cock began to deflate, and when Willa shifted her weight, I slid ignobly out of her. 

Sarah raised her head. "Go wash that thing off and then you can come do me," she said.

Always obedient to commands like that, I hurried into the bathroom and gave myself a thorough wash in the sink. When I returned, it was Willa's turn. She quickly stood and ran into the bathroom.

Sarah was sitting up, leaning against the headboard. "Well, what do you think?"

"About doing you?"

"No, silly -- about Willa's idea."

"Do you think she was serious?"

"Absolutely. And I've been thinking, Pete. . ."

"What about?"

"I hate to admit it, but to tell the truth, I was kind of relieved when Paul was called home early."

"Oh?" I was secretly cheering, but I was careful to hide it. "Why?"

"This isn't an easy thing for a woman to admit, dear, but I'm afraid I may be getting too old to comfortably take on a man with Paul's size and stamina. Of course, I know only too well how unusual his size is, but I felt like hell this morning, and that's one of nature's warning signs.

"I've been thinking about it all day, and to be completely honest, I'm not sure I still have what it takes to continue much longer as a company hostess. The mine won't begin paying off for at least a year, and you're not making a lot of money at the cabinet shop."

"You mean we're broke?"

"Of course not! But looking ahead, I don't think my salary will let us keep this apartment much longer, so if we have to move, why not join forces with Karen? She can evidently use the money . . ."

Just then, Willa emerged from the bathroom. "I don't know what you put in me, Pete, but it's acting like a great big enema. Ooops, here I go again!" She quickly ran back into the bath.

"Now where were we?" I asked.

"Well, how would you feel, Pete? Isn't it every man's dream to be surrounded all the time by at least three hot and willing females? Maybe we could expand even further -- God knows the house is big enough!"

And that, dear readers, brings us back to the beginning.

It was an adolescent's dream come true. I felt my cock twitch as I gazed fondly around the living room. A half dozen naked and partly dressed people sat in the room with me -- one pair playing chess in the corner, another couple sitting on the couch cuddling and casually touching one another; she stroking his thigh, he idly plucking at an elongated nipple, while my daughter sat curled up in a big easy chair, reading a novel.

Unlike the others, she wore a thin pair of panties which nicely emphasized her beautifully sculpted ass.

Just then Sarah, came in from the kitchen. Her soft breasts shone with a fine perspiration from the heat, and as always, I admired the way they rolled and jiggled as she crossed the room and bent over the couch, casually giving her (our) son a warm, open mouthed kiss.

His response was immediate and enthusiastic. Even Willa, the woman in his arms, greeted her by reaching up to touch her soft, quivering breast.

I was enjoying the byplay, wondering if it would mean delaying dinner, and was mildly annoyed when my daughter looked up and said, "Hey, Mom, lay off. I thought you were going to do my hair before supper!" 

Sarah straightened up and smiled at her daughter. "Sure thing, Nonnie. Let's go to the bathroom."

I watched as my daughter rose to follow her mother. The two women were similar in size and coloration. Although 19 years separated them, and in spite of faint stretch marks on Sarah's belly and breasts, breasts which no longer had the firm resiliency of her daughter's, the only obvious physical difference between the two was that while Sarah's pubic bush was lush and as colorful as the hair on her head, Nonnie's thin panties betrayed the absence of genital hair.

I smiled as I remembered the mild shock I had experienced when, late one night, my probing fingers had encountered only slick smooth skin surrounding my daughter's vulva. When I asked her about it later, she had giggled and said, "So you can tell the difference between me and mom in the dark!"

Karen still had the lithe figure of a professional model, and, as she stood next to one of the chess players, ignoring the scars on her chest and mangled left leg, I took full notice of the delightful contrast between her Nordic good looks, tiny breasts, slender hips and thin, wispy, genital hair shielding her mons like the shadow of a passing cloud (and a tight, tight pussy I knew well), and those of Paula, on whose shoulder her hand now rested.

I had spent many happy hours between Paula's soft thighs, playing with the turgid black spikes that tipped her soft, somewhat pendulous breasts. Even their coloring was almost diametrically opposite, because unlike her husband, who was a redheaded Irishman, June was African-American. 

Paula and Rick, like us and Karen, were co-sponsors of our communal home where the only rule was that everyone was free to touch everyone else and that the only constraint on sexual activity was mutual convenience. Clothing was strictly optional. 

Author's note: I'd appreciate hearing from you about this or any of my other stories. Most of these yarns are based, at least in part, on various experiences I've had over the years. For instance, Velda, my current wife, and I met at a clothing optional party nearly 30 years ago.