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Death By Fucking Ch. 01

By: thebullet



PART 1: Chemical Attractors: His Story

There can’t be such a thing as love as first sight. That’s certainly impossible, regardless of what you’ve heard. People are mistaking love for lust. I believe lust at first sight happens occasionally. I’m an eyewitness. 

I talked to her long before I physically met her. The first time I talked to her on the phone I hoped her voice was reflective of her looks. I saw a movie recently where a guy got off of the phone with a woman he had never met and said that she was ‘audibly blonde’. When I talked to Deirdre on the phone I thought she was audibly fuckable. I’ve never had that happen before. I made a simple business call, asked to talk to someone who had called my office requesting me while I was out. I was returning a call, for crying out loud. I wasn’t expecting a life-altering experience with a simple phone call. 

Deirdre was with a consulting firm that was supposed to tell my company how to do its business. Our company has only been in business for 55 years. Why should we know how to do our job? It was obvious we needed someone to come in to tell us what we were doing wrong. Deirdre was a consultant with Brown and Raymond Management Consultants. I was one of the liaison guys who were supposed to give BRMC the lowdown on how things worked. Then they were going to tell us what to downsize, who to downgrade, how to cut expenses and generally fuck up the atmosphere in a previously great place to work. I think I can safely say that only upper management in our firm thought kindly of BRMC. 

I reluctantly returned Deirdre’s call. It was my job, after all. I was to cooperate in everyway possible with the BRMC team. The lady called me. I called her back. Simple as that. I hate those voice mail systems that a lot of companies have installed in the last decade. They are a major indicator of the decline of the quality of life in our country, generated in part by an over dependence on technology. Just because we can do it doesn’t mean it should be done. Fuck voice mail.

After dealing with “please listen carefully because our menu options have changed” and blah, blah, blah, I finally reached a real person. She answered the phone “Deirdre Martin”. I didn’t know that I was about to be hit by a truck.

Our company is located in the mid-west. We aren’t near to being a Fortune 500 company, but we are publicly traded and have over 5000 employees in three facilities, two in Ohio and one in Indiana. We’re respectable. 

I’m the fair haired boy. I’m a department head, even if it is only a small department. I’m the youngest department head in the company. The next youngest department head is twenty years older than me. She’s forty-five, so that makes me twenty-five. I’m in charge of software development for our process control division. I also have a hand in some web-site development and in supporting some people in our general area who don’t have time to wait for the IT department to actually respond to their requests. 

I have three arrogant little pricks working for me as software developers. They’re all teenagers, right out of high school. Some jerk-off in Human Resources heard that in today’s market you either farm your software development out to India or Israel or some such shit, or hire little dorkfaced numbnuts who are so young they don’t cost any money. They also have no experience other than playing around with other dorkfaced little numbnuts. And guess what? They don’t know how to follow through. They get 90% through a project and they get bored. They keep giving me buggy programs and don’t understand why I’m upset with them. I end up finishing up the programming myself, or the damn shit just wouldn’t work. Yes, I learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid, but at least I was never a dorkfaced numbnut. 

I have my own axe to grind. I’ll admit it. These BRMC guys are coming in here to tell us how to do business, but I already know what it’s going to take. We’ve got to get a real internet presence and start conducting eBusiness. We are in the Stone Age in computing terms. We have a “calling card” kind of internet presence. We don’t have our customers on-line for purchasing and delivery info. We don’t try to sell our products on the net. We could be targeting new markets. We could be moving into the 21st Century. Instead we’re using the tried and true same old method of doing business, while everyone else is trying something new. Eventually we will be shit out of luck. At least that’s my opinion. 

So I’m one of the guys who are dealing with BRMC. I have nothing else on my plate except trying to clean up half a dozen almost completed projects that will not go live till I have debugged them and given them a professional look. These kids wouldn’t know a professional look if it came up and bit them on the ass.

Deirdre Martin has the kind of voice that turns my knees to putty. She speaks with a Southern drawl, but she certainly has been influenced by her time in the North, because it’s not as strong an accent as I’ve heard from other people from Georgia. I asked where she was from when I first heard her speak. It was a natural question. I guess she gets it all the time, being a transplanted Southerner. She’s been in Ohio for three or four years working for BRMC, doing her business consulting thing. 

Her voice was magic. It’s a kind of little girl’s voice, soft and charming. There was laughter in it, and sultry sexiness. My secretary walked into my office while I was on the phone with Ms. Martin. She stood waiting for me to finish. When I hung up, I just shook my head and said “Wow! That woman is audibly fuckable. She has the greatest voice I’ve ever heard. What a Southern accent! Maybe this assignment won’t be as bad as I had thought.”

My secretary, a very nice but rather dumpy 48 year old mother of four shook her head at my language. “Drew, please don’t use language like that unless you plan to back it up. Besides, she’s probably an elderly black lady.”

“Thanks, Carol, for bursting my bubble. Well I’ll see it when I believe it. Or vice versa. This woman is going to be a goddess. In a just universe, a voice like that would have to be attached to a heavenly body. Please, universe. Be just!”

Over the course of a week or two, Deirdre and I exchanged emails, faxes, databases, spreadsheets, all the paraphernalia that are the hallmark of the modern business world. I even slipped in some of my own ideas about developing an internet presence designed to keep us current with standard business practices. I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

We became friendly over the phone. She had a great voice, but I never forgot that her voice belonged to a potential enemy. Maybe a potential ally, too, and you can never have too many allies, especially ones who are going to have a major say in how your company is going to be run. It was a sticky political situation. I was in a position to push my own agenda if I were able to catch Deirdre’s ear. Sure, I would benefit from that, but I really believe that it’s a good course for the company to follow. 

We did all of this preliminary legwork, but the real work was to begin when Deirdre spent two to three weeks at our plant to learn first hand how things worked and what our methods and problems are. I was to spend two to three weeks in a room with Deirdre. The thought occurred to me that this could be heaven or this could be hell. What if she doesn’t look like her voice? Well, I could live with that. That’s only my wishful thinking at work. I really had no reason to believe that my relationship with Deirdre Martin was going to be anything but professional. She might be able to help me professionally. She might be able to emasculate me professionally. She wielded power over me. That was an uncomfortable thought. 

It was a Monday morning. I was a few minutes late (a tractor trailer flipped over while making an exit off of the interstate and everything was a mess – that was the story I planned to tell). When I got in Carol told me that Deirdre was in the conference room waiting for me. I took a deep breath and marched to my potential fate.

Deirdre was sitting at the conference table when I entered, and rose to greet me. I was stunned. She had stolen Joanne Woodward’s face: the young Joanne Woodward, the Joanne Woodward of “The Long Hot Summer”. Her hair was short with curls: blonde. Of course she was blonde. She wore a business suit that concealed her body effectively except that she was obviously slim with curves, but I didn’t care about her body. I couldn’t see her body. All I could see were her eyes. She had these blue-green eyes: round, innocent eyes; eyes that beckoned, invited, questioned. But there was more. She smiled and reached out to shake my hand. Her eyes lit up as if she had turned on a switch. I was mesmerized! She was enchanting and I was enchanted. And then it happened.

Our hands touched. She shook my hand in a friendly business-like greeting, but I was suffering from sensory overload. 

I need to interject a crackpot theory I’ve been working on. It’s a theory I developed because my most sacredly held beliefs are now being challenged, and I need something to meet that challenge head-on or I may see the total destruction of my belief system. 

It’s a chemistry thing. That’s what it is. It must be. Chemistry and physics, too. Electricity comes in there somewhere. Our hands touched and it was like I had come home. A simple hand shake, but every point of contact seemed to be an energy source. Her skin is like velvet: soft, very soft, smooth and tanned: velvety. Something in her skins cells, some chemical, some DNA thing, some hormone or whatever, attracts like-minded somethings in my skin cells. 

My theory is this: certain people are chemical attractors to certain other people. Their body chemistries are meant for each other, attract each other like iron to a magnet. Some kind of endorphin thing, maybe. Her endorphins fit into my receptors. Something fit into my receptors, because I was receiving big time.

That touch was the most exciting instant I had experienced in my life. I didn’t know what had come over me. This was a simple damn business meeting with a person who might have life or death power over my job, and I was acting like a love struck teenager. I could feel myself flush. My breathing became a little labored. I was lost in her eyes, holding her hand. Worst of all, my erection went from 0 to 60 in five seconds. If she had been standing any closer to me it would have knocked her over. As it is, I think she had to jump to get out of the way.

I was in a situation here. I couldn’t seem to let go of Deirdre’s hand. I have no idea if I was saying anything to her or was merely making little gurgling noises in my throat. My ears were buzzing, so I couldn’t hear much anyway. 

Deirdre gently removed her hand from mine and sat back down. I came to my senses and took a seat opposite her at the conference table. Checking her out I could see that she was older. I couldn’t guess her age. She could be a mature twenty-five or an extremely well-preserved forty. Somewhere between 25 and 40 was my guess. She got right down to business as if she weren’t facing a semi-crazed stranger with an erect cock. 

I could see instantly she was way out of my class. I had absolutely no hope of getting close to this woman. She was beautiful. She was smart. She had a big time job, probably making four times as much as I made. She had those eyes. But she was out of my class. I felt like the high school nerd looking at the head cheerleader with envious eyes, knowing that he had no chance to ever get close to that magnificent creature. 

I knew she was unattainable and that helped me regain my self-control. Okay, I said to myself. Okay, enjoy being around her. That’s all that can come of this. You can spend some time with the most magnificent thing you’ve ever been around. Just don’t get involved, because no involvement is possible. Talk about whistling past the graveyard.

We talked. We talked business. I had trouble concentrating at first, but then I learned I could effectively focus on the business information we were trying to glean while at the same time keeping my total attention on Deirdre. We sat there all morning talking about this department or that, various reports that I had given her and the meaning of some of the trends those reports highlighted. And the whole time, through it all, I maintained a hard-on. 

My face was stoic through it all. I never let my emotions show on my face. I’ve been studying Mr. Spock since I was a kid, and I know how to turn a Vulcan face to things. After my first indiscretion of acting like a child (well, a child with a hard dick) when we first met, I thought I had done a good job of staying on task, giving her the things she needed for her to do her job properly. 

But it was hard. She was a continual distraction to my attention. I wanted to memorize everything about her. From her point of view, I was a little kid with a questionable education, and maybe she was thinking that I’ve risen as high on the corporate ladder as I was ever going to rise. It took me a while to integrate my logical cogitations of things into my emotional being. But I finally did it. I finally knew deep down that she was desirable, eminently desirable, but entirely unreachable. My entire body finally understood that. Well, all of my body understood it except one 8 inch tube of unquenchable lust. It just wanted to fuck her.

Two days passed. We were making progress, but I could tell she was getting uneasy with my distractibility. And I had maintained an erection for the entire time she was in the room with me. I couldn’t help it. On Tuesday and Wednesday I wore looser fitting pants, just so it wasn’t so obvious what was going on down there. It didn’t make any difference. It was obvious anyway. I was hard. Nothing could change that.

Frankly I tried to mitigate Deirdre’s effect on me by jacking off as much as possible. Well, actually, I just HAD to jack off or I was going to die of a terminal case of blue balls. I jacked off before I came to work, thinking it might take some time for me to rejuvenate. I rejuvenated in the time it took for my eyes to take in Deirdre’s entire body. 

I want to tell you this was not fun. I was in an agony of unfulfilled arousal. Wednesday morning was a replay of Tuesday and Monday. I was distractible, nervous, ill at ease, and generally doing a less than perfect job as an interface between the company and BRMC.

Deirdre had lunch with another BRMC person who was working in another area of our building. I sat at my desk with a sandwich and wished I was dead. 

We met again in the conference room after Deirdre had come back from lunch. I was waiting for her when she entered the room, sitting at a laptop trying to get some numbers together while I was free to act outside the range of Deirdre’s female pulchritude. She came into the conference room, gave me a wan little smile, and then closed and locked the door. Uh, oh, I thought. Here it comes. She’s had the shits of me.

Deirdre looked at me, not unkindly and said, “Andrew, we have to talk.”

Everyone calls me Drew. I guess the only person in the world that calls me Andrew is my mother. And now Deirdre calls me Andrew. It was one more distraction I didn’t need. I tried to get my head together.

“What’s the problem, Deirdre?”

“Andrew would you rather not work with me? You’ve been a bundle of nerves since Monday morning. I’ve been assured by your business associates that you are normally a calm and confident person. I enjoy working with you, but I get the feeling you would rather be anywhere in the world than here.”

I quickly shook my head. “That’s not true, Deirdre. I enjoy working with you!” Wait a minute. Maybe I said that a little too forcefully.

She gave another sad little smile. “We have to talk, Andrew. I need to know what the problem is between us. We’ve got a big job to do. There are a lot of people depending on us. We can’t allow some small conflict between us interfere with the progress of our project. If you don’t like me I can deal with that. I talked to Bob Simon over lunch, and he agreed to exchange liaison people if we feel it necessary. Melissa Thomas could work with me, and you could work with Bob.”

I felt a surge of panic. I was screwing this thing up so badly that Deirdre couldn’t even work with me anymore. That will look great on my record. Worse, it would mean I couldn’t spend my days with Deirdre. Talk about a disaster of biblical proportions!

“Deirdre, it isn’t like that at all. There is no one I would rather work with than you.” There. That didn’t sound too bad. I wasn’t falling all over myself slobbering on her like a schoolboy. A simple statement of fact, spoken with practically no inflection. I wasn’t throwing myself at her. I merely was saying that I liked working with her and would prefer to keep it that way.

I could tell that Deirdre wasn’t buying. “What’s the problem, then? Either you are the most nervous person I’ve ever met, or something else is wrong. Little boy, I’m told that nervousness isn’t your problem. So what is?”

I was in a corner, looking for a way out. Coming clean with this woman just wasn’t an option. First, she’s way out of my league. Second, we are business associates. Third, there is such a thing as sexual harassment. That’s three strikes. All I could do was look unhappy and claim that everything was fine.

“Andrew, you’ve got to talk. I don’t want to switch partners with Bob, but I will if I have to. This job is too important.”

I guess I looked miserable. I said, “Deirdre, I’m afraid that my problems aren’t work related. They have nothing to do with the work that we are doing. They certainly aren’t caused because I don’t enjoy working with you. It’s just something I will have to deal with myself.”

“Now Andrew, we’ve known each other for weeks. I know we only met in person the other day, but don’t you feel enough confidence in me that you can let down your guard a little? I promise that whatever you say will be held in the strictest of confidences. I won’t hold it against you.”

I muttered “Yeah, sure.” I knew better. But what could I do. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. Nothing I could do or say or not do or not say would make this situation better. It’s difficult to speak when you know that what you say is going to make you look like a complete jackass.

“Deirdre, I’ll talk. But I’m holding you to your word. You said you wouldn’t hold it against me, and I’m counting on you to mean it. I’m harmless. You’ve got to believe that I don’t have a mean or aggressive bone in my body. I’m not the kind of person to become fixated on another person. I’m an easy going guy. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Deirdre again gave that little half smile of hers. “Okay, you’re harmless. I never thought otherwise. So where is this leading?”

I guess the only option I had open was to tell her my theory. “It happened when we shook hands on Monday. Something magical happened to me. Only it wasn’t magic. I theorize that it has something to do with your skin. I was predisposed to react to you favorably, I’ll admit that. Your voice is like music. I’d been kidding around with my secretary for weeks, wondering what kind of body would be attached to such a voice. But I wasn’t like obsessed with your voice or anything. I just thought it was a fabulous, fabulous voice. I was excited to meet you because of that, but otherwise I had no preconceptions about you, I had no contingency plans in case your person lived up to the impossibly high standards of your voice. Carol had me half convinced that you were a sixty year old black woman. And then I met you and you were beautiful. Okay, I could deal with that, happily. It just meant that for the next three weeks I had someone very easy on the eyes and ears to work with. I was happy as a clam. But then you smiled. Deirdre, your smile is unfair to men. When your eyes lit up like they did, I was mesmerized. Don’t try to tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about. Men would probably die for the opportunity to look into your eyes. I know I would. But I could have survived even that. It was your touch.”


Death By Fucking Ch. 01



“When you touched me I was a lost cause. It has to do with your body chemistry, I think. Something in your physical makeup fits perfectly with something in my physical makeup, at least from my perspective. It’s an addiction, I guess. Whenever I’m near you this chemical attraction seems to take over from my normal self. Suddenly you’re all I can think about. I’m sorry, Deirdre. Don’t be concerned. I’m not a stalker or anything. I may appear to be obsessed with you. Shit I guess I am obsessed with you. But you never have to worry about me stepping outside of ethical boundaries. I’m telling you this because you insisted that I tell you. In a way I’m glad I told you, because someone like you deserves to hear every day of her life how incredible she is, how alluring, how attractive, how totally enchanting.“

“I won’t say another word about this. You don’t have to worry about any trouble from me. I’m a feminist, would you believe? I’m strongly opposed to sexual harassment in the workplace. Please believe me; I never intended to make you uncomfortable. I have no expectations whatsoever of you. If it’s okay with you, I would like to carry on our business as usual. I would consider it a real favor if we could just let this whole thing fade away”, I finished desperately.

Deirdre had this enigmatic look on her face. I was resigned to my fate, regardless. I had thrown myself on the mercy of the court. It was out of my hands. 

“Andrew, do you realize that I’m thirty-five years old? I’m ten years older than you.”

“Deirdre, you might be a million years old. You’re ageless, timeless. You’re the Mona Lisa. You’re Cleopatra. If you lived forty thousand years ago, some Cro Magnon artisan would be carving your body into eternal stone. Plato would have considered you the perfect model of ‘woman’, the essence to which all other women must be compared and found wanting. Age means nothing with you.” 

I had opened my mouth and all these words came pouring out. I didn’t think them through. These were the thoughts that had been running around my brain for three days. She asked me to say them and I said them. If nothing else ever came of it, at least I had my say.

I’m afraid that this wasn’t what Deirdre was expecting. I guess maybe she thought I had a little crush on her, and she could defuse it with a few kind words. But now she could see that this was far more serious than she had previously thought.

“Andrew, I’m just some old lady who, let’s be frank, could carry a lot of clout with your employers. Is that it? Do you think you can flatter me in order to improve your position? Well, buster, you better believe that isn’t going to happen.” I could see she was making herself angry.

“Hold on, Deirdre. You made me talk, remember? It never occurred to me that you could help me if I flattered you. I figured you could get me fired, though. That’s part of the reason that I kept my mouth shut. The rest of the reason is just that you’re way out of my league. You’re a step way up in class from me. You’re that unreachable star that people sing about. I know that to you I’m just a little kid. If you want me to be honest with you I will. I’m the best. I’m the best person working in this company. I’m the only one I know who sees where we could be going. Most of these other guys are just old farts with no vision. I like them, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t hold them in contempt, or anything. I just know that of the management group here, I’m at the top. But that is damning this company with faint praise. That’s why you guys are here. If I’m the best, we’re in trouble.”

“I’ll admit that I’ve tried to make you aware of some of my ideas about the company’s future. But they’re good ideas. And I would have told them to you regardless of my feelings for you. I would have told them to you even if you were a sixty year old black woman. It was just business, not personal.”

Deirdre seemed to be at a loss for words. She said, “Andrew, I’m a committed businesswoman. I took this job knowing that I would be working 80 to 100 hour weeks, traveling all over the country; staying in hotels; never having relationships. I don’t have relationships. I don’t have time for relationships. And I’m almost old enough to be your mother. You’re a very sweet boy. I really like you. I do. But I don’t have relationships.”

“Deirdre I already told you I have no expectations of anything from you. I’ve known all along that nothing would develop between us. You’re from an entirely different planet from me. I can’t help my body’s reaction to you. Believe me, if I could stop it I would. It’s a chemical attraction that’s beyond my ability to control. “

“It’s no fun knowing that the woman of your dreams is totally beyond your reach. I know that in a few weeks you’ll be gone. Maybe it will assuage your ego a bit knowing that somewhere there is a young man who loves you passionately and forever. But nothing is expected of you, nothing is required or requested. But let me say that there is no way you can hide behind this age thing. I know you’re busy. I know you are married to your job. I know that you went to Duke and I went to East Podunk State. Tell me those things and I’ll believe you. But don’t use age as an excuse. It just doesn’t wash.”

Deirdre actually smiled; not a little half smile, but one of those smiles that turns on some kind of switch and suddenly her eyes sparkle. When she does that I’m helpless.

“I think that it would be wise for us to try to resolve the short term situation. Our first obligation is to finish this project on time and under budget. I’m a management consultant. You’re a systems analyst, Andrew, between the two of us we should be able to come up with a solution that will make us both comfortable.”

How women can change gears like that is a mystery to me. I’m here pouring my heart out to her and she wants to talk business. I guess it’s her way of re-establishing boundaries.

I didn’t know what the fuck she was thinking. I said, “I don’t have a clue. If you can come up with some way that we can work more smoothly together, I’m all for it.”

She nodded her head. “Good. Because I do have a possible solution we might try. I hope you don’t find me too blunt, Andrew, but it is fairly obvious to anyone that you’ve spent the entire week in a state of shall I say tenseness. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as tense as you; and certainly not for as long as you’ve been tense, if you know what I mean.”

I’m afraid I did know what she meant. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that. I mean, how do you apologize for that sort of thing? Sorry, Ms. Martin that I’ve had a hard-on for you for three days in a row. I figure she has one of two possible responses to my constantly engorged dick. One: she might think I am a sex maniac who goes through life in a constant state of arousal no matter what. Two: maybe she realizes that my condition was directly caused by her. How would a woman respond, knowing a man finds her constantly arousing? She might be disgusted. But then again, a hard-on is the sincerest form of flattery. Maybe it doesn’t hurt her ego to know that she has it in her to make a 25 year old man almost crazy with lust. This might have a certain appeal to her. I resolved that henceforth I was going to be totally honest with Deirdre. I wouldn’t hold things back for fear of whatever. I probably will only get one shot at this, and damn it, I’ve got to go for it.

“Can I be open with you Andrew? You’ve been honest with me and I truly appreciate it. I can’t be in a relationship. You know that. I never become involved, even a little involved, with my customers. That’s just bad business practice. The possibilities for conflict of interest are endless. That’s a major consideration. But at least as important, is that we need to get this project done. We can’t be distracted by sexual tension. “

I could see where this was going. “So, what are you trying to tell me? You’re saying that I should masturbate to relieve the tension? Well honey, I’ve jerked off ten times in the last two days. It doesn’t do any good. As soon as you get close to me I have no control over how my body responds. It responds on its own. It doesn’t ask me what I think of the situation. I’m only along for the ride.”

“Don’t get testy, sweetie. I wouldn’t ask you to masturbate, and frankly I’ve already received more information on your masturbatory life than I care to know. I’ll tell you some unpleasant truths about myself. I never date. Never! I haven’t been with a man in almost three years. I miss it desperately, but I don’t have time for relationships. It’s true. I’m alone in strange motels more often than not. How hard would it be to walk down to the bar, pick up some lonely businessman, and work off some tension? That’s not who I am. Perhaps you will consider it prudish, but I don’t do one night stands. I’ve never had sex with a man I wasn’t at least a little in love with. It’s not prudery, really. I just don’t enjoy sex without love. If I need to let off some of my tension, well I can do that very well for myself. “

“But now we’re in this situation where you are suffering from this condition, and I feel obligated to help relieve your suffering. What I’m saying is: how would you feel about relieving that tension the old fashioned way?” Her face maintained that even keel smile as if she were asking me if I wanted a doughnut.

I on the other hand, knew that my mouth was wide open. I slammed it shut before flies flew in. 

I finally found words. “Old fashioned way? Old fashioned way!! Yes, I would be more than willing to attempt to relieve the tension the old fashioned way. Did you just say that, or was I imaging things?”

Deirdre reached across the table and took my hand. God, her hand in mine was so hot it felt like a China syndrome meltdown. It could have burnt its way to the center of the earth. She began speaking softly, wistfully telling me about her feelings.

“Honey, I took this job and I never looked back. My eyes were open. I knew what I was getting in to. But I do miss a man. You’ve touched me somehow. It’s been a long time since I felt attracted to a man. You seem to think this is all one sided. It isn’t. I’m not offering myself as some sacrifice on the alter of good consulting in order to make our group effort improve. Frankly I could stand to get laid. And I like you. I like you a lot. So maybe we can give each other something. I’ve never made anyone an offer like this before. Are you willing, or are you still wallowing in your inferiority complex fantasy?”

What was I supposed to say? “Yes! Of course! I’ll accept any scrap that falls from your table. I’ll hate myself in the morning, but this thing is out of my control.”

“Okay, then. Pick me up at my hotel tonight at 7 o’clock. We’ll have dinner and then we’ll attempt to relieve your tension. Are you okay with that, Andrew?”

“Absolutely. Whatever you want. Your every wish is my command.”

Deirdre smiled and said, “In that case, my command is that you relax and we get back to work.” As if.

After work I stopped at home, showered and changed, then made my way to Deirdre’s hotel. I called her cell on the way and she was waiting in the lobby when I arrived. Deirdre is always lovely, but tonight was the first time I had seen her in something other than a business suit. 

I stood with my mouth opened, taking in the beauty of the woman before I was able to croak out “You look lovely tonight”.

Deirdre smiled that smile that ignites a beacon in her eyes and stepped forward to take my arm. Her hotel was in the center of town so we strolled a couple of blocks to one of my favorite haunts, a small Japanese restaurant that served exquisite food in an atmosphere that suggested Japan but didn’t hit you over the head with it. Deirdre had sushi and assured me it was very good. I’m not a sushi kind of guy, but was pleased she liked it. I prefer my food cooked. Whatever, we had a wonderful time, with an attentive but unobtrusive waiter. We drank sake and I reveled in the chance to sit quietly with Deirdre outside the office and just talk. 

There was still tension there. When she reached out to take my arm when I met her at her hotel, my dick sprang to life and stayed that way through the entire evening. She does that to me. It’s just something I’ve got to get used to, I guess.

I loved talking to her over dinner, but was getting very impatient by the time the waiter had asked if we were interested in desert. She looked over the desert menu for a second, then looked me in the eye as she said to the waiter, “No thank you. We have something else planned for desert tonight.”

When the waiter brought the check I didn’t give him a chance to leave me with the bill and then pick it up later. The money was flying from my pocket and Deirdre and I were flying down the sidewalk almost immediately. I was practically dragging her back to her hotel. I was desperate for her.

We were barely into her room when I pushed her against the wall and kissed her for the very first time. I wanted it to be a tender loving kiss; a kiss to convey the depth of my feelings for Deirdre. But I couldn’t do it that way. My tongue plunged down her throat. My body pressed against hers, my hands roaming. I began to ravage her. I worked at removing her clothes. I couldn’t get them off fast enough.

In my dreams my lovemaking with Deirdre was gentle, adoring, romantic. I would hold her lovely face in my hands and kiss those sweet lips. Reality changed everything. 

I had her naked. I finally got a chance to see her lovely nudity. But I barely noticed. I was tearing my own clothes off so fast I’m lucky they are still intact. I had to have her. I had to have her right now! 

I hurried her to her bed, laid her down. She reached to me with welcoming arms. I wanted to hold her and whisper sweet nothings into her ears. I wanted to slowly explore her body from top to bottom. I wanted this to be an experience she could never forget. That’s what I wanted.

Instead I practically raped her. My cock found her center and forced itself into her. I was out of my mind. I fucked that beautiful woman. I was brutal. I pulled out, plunged in. Harder and harder I drove. She just laid there and took it. I could see I was overwhelming her. I wanted to slow down and take it easy. I wanted to. I couldn’t. I hammered into her over and over again. It was a driving, plundering, thoughtless taking of her. 

I was like the first australopithecine male who discovered pair bonding. I was possessing her with my cock, marking her with my seed. I was shouting from my soul that this woman belongs to me and nobody else! 

I was hammering my cock into her helpless pussy, brutally assaulting this bewitching creature. She tried to protest initially. I heard her say, “No, wait. Ouch, it hurts. No. No. Oh my God! Oh my God. Oh God! Oh GOD!”

Soon she stopped talking and seemed to grunt each time my cock slammed into her. She seemed to be screaming from time to time, I’m not sure. Then she was just making noises that didn’t seem to mean anything, little gurgling sounds coming from deep within her throat. 

I have no idea how long this lasted. My penis was like a piece of steel. I fucked her and fucked her and fucked her; harder and harder and harder. Suddenly a bolt shot through my like an electrical shock. My dick swelled within me and I was hosing the inside of Deirdre’s pussy with my seed, pumping time and again, deep within her. I was screaming. Deirdre was screaming. It was primal lust.

Then it was over. I slowly came to my senses. I was lying on top of Deirdre. She had her eyes open, looking off to the side of the room, saying nothing, appearing to be dazed. I suddenly realized that I had blown it. I had the opportunity of a lifetime handed to me and I let my raw lust overcome my common sense. 

I was very upset. I tried to explain it to her. “Deirdre, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I dreamed of making love to you, tenderly, lovingly. I had no intention of fucking your brains out. I’m sorry, Deirdre. God, I hope I didn’t hurt you. Are you all right?”

I think Deirdre suddenly realized that I was talking to her. “What? Am I all right? Certainly I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Deirdre, I’m sorry for being so rough, for ignoring your needs. I’ve always been a considerate lover. Something came over me tonight. I’m not like that. Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Why, Andrew, I’m not thinking anything. I have no brains.”

And then she laughed.



Death By Fucking Ch. 02



My life has been in a bit of a rut lately, if lately can be construed to mean three years. I travel, work, eat, sleep. Those are the four basic components of my life. I know that there should be more than that, but I made my bed, so to speak, and must sleep in it.

My name is Deirdre Martin and I'm a management consultant. I am brought into corporations to determine how to make those corporations more efficient, more profitable. Part of that means that I sometimes (well more than sometimes) have to tell my clients how to consolidate functions in order to improve service. That's a euphemistic way of saying I tell them who to fire. It's not a pleasant part of my job, and it doesn't make me very popular with the people I work with. They may be the very ones who are going to be downsized when I'm through, so how can I blame them?

In a consulting business, its people are its product, its inventory. I put that badly. Once a consulting firm has its people fully engaged with their clients, they have nothing else to sell. It can expand its business in two ways. A) Either hire more consultants (and we cost a bundle) or B) make the consultants they have work longer hours. Every consulting firm I know always chooses B) first. 

I'm not complaining. I knew this going in. I knew that I could expect long hours on the job followed by boring interludes in antiseptic motels rooms. I knew that I could expect loneliness. I knew that I didn't have time for relationships. I had enough failed relationships in the past to be a little glad that this was one thing I wasn't going to have to deal with any longer. 

I was raised in Georgia. I was raised close enough to Savannah that if people ask, that's where I tell them I'm from. But it was really a small town that wasn't thought of as a suburb until urban sprawl made it so. When I lived there, Savannah was the big city you went to once a month. So, I'm from Savannah.

Akron Wire and Cable was just another small company that needed rescuing. My company, BRMC, was engaged to bring this antiquated little company into the twenty-first century. It was going to be a big task. Heads were going to roll, no doubt about it. Several BRMC consultants were to spend a great deal of time and effort to tell this little company how to save itself. I wasn't sure it could save itself, given the current conditions, but we had to try. 

My primary contact at AWC was to be a systems analyst who I was told was the youngest department head in the company. He was an up and comer who I was assured would be the ideal person to learn not only what was wrong, but what the more progressive thinkers at AWC had in mind for the future. We talked on the phone, this Andrew Adkins and me. We teleconferenced, we emailed, we faxed; all in preparation for my spending time at the AWC office in Akron.

I was sitting in the conference room in the process control division when he walked in. He was running a little late and he babbled something about the traffic, but I didn't pay any attention. I couldn't seem to hear what he was saying. He was just so beautiful. 

He was young and tall, but not overly tall, perhaps 5'11" to six feet. He was slim and trim. I could see he was in excellent shape. I later learned he had been on his college tennis team and still played competitively. His face was soft and hard at the same time. You could tell by looking at that face that it smiled a lot. It was a sweet lovely face. 

He had those deep brown eyes that were so piercing. I saw him and smiled and then those eyes! They seemed to be forcing their way into my soul. I reached to shake his hand in welcome. The touch was electric. I felt tingly all over my body. I had to sit down but he didn't seem to want to give me my hand back. I couldn't pull away. Finally my knees gave out and I melted into my chair, my hand slipping from his grip. I had to pull myself together!

Then I saw it. It was the gallant reaction. That's what we girls used to call it in high school if a boy's or teacher's pants suddenly tented. They were having the gallant reaction. 

Andrew had the gallant reaction to me! I didn't understand it. After all, I'm quite a bit older than he is, ten years if you must know. I thought that perhaps this was some young Lothario who was attracted to every woman he was in contact with regardless of age or looks. I bet his dance card is full, looking like he does, acting like he does, reacting like he does. The women must be all over him.

The gallant reaction couldn't be for me. It's his reaction to every woman, I'm sure. I calmed down a little and went straight to business. After all, that's what we were here for. We weren't here for me to have these ridiculous fantasies about this beautiful young man. 

We worked all day, and we accomplished a lot, but there was this tension. I felt it at every turn. Andrew was tense. He seemed to be nervous. I had talked to him on the phone many times. He was always warm, sometimes flirtatious, but never tense and nervous. I thought that perhaps he had a personal problem that was interfering with his concentration. 

I am less qualified than many other women to comment on the state of a man's erection, since my experience with men is somewhat limited. Work has always been my number one priority. I've seen several men hard for short periods of time - way too short for my liking if you know what I mean (I'm a fan of "Whose Line is it Anyway.")

But Andrew was hard from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon. I know because I checked; often. I was starting to wonder if perhaps he was wearing something in his pants. I just didn't notice at the beginning of the day what he looked like down there. It was only after our hands touched that I sneaked a peek at his midsection. He was hard. He remained hard. I don't know how I got any work done. All I could think about was his erection.

Tuesday I arrived a bit early and went into the lady's lounge to freshen up. I came into the main office area and saw Andrew was sitting at a table with his back to me talking with several people. It was apparently the kind of pre-work talk session where company bonding took place. 

As I approached the small group I saw a truly beautiful young girl stroll up to the group from the other side. She sat next to Andrew, her breasts leaning into his arm, smiling and touching him in the way of young girls who are trying to elicit a response from an eligible young man. Andrew appeared to be oblivious to the machinations of the young minx, but I knew what she was up to. I was shocked to find jealousy creeping in to my emotions. 

When I reached the group and said hello, Andrew's eyes turned from the beautiful young thing throwing herself at him. His eyes focused on mine and never wavered. I had glanced at his crotch as I walked up to the group. Nothing was showing. I assumed that Monday must have been an aberration. But he saw me. He smiled at me. The front of his pants flew in my direction.

I was dizzy. My god, he wanted ME! He was hard for ME! I excused myself to go into the conference room. I had to calm down. But Andrew followed right after me. I didn't have a chance. I couldn't calm down. I had trouble looking him in the eye. 

We spent the day together working. He was hard the entire time. He seemed ill at ease, but was always a complete gentleman. I felt like his eyes were burning a hole in my body, but he never made a comment or insinuation that I could assume was in any way sexual. I was a mess.

Many men have propositioned me over the years. They tried to get into my pants. Occasionally they succeeded. But this boy never propositioned me. He was always polite and respectful. 

But every minute I was with him, his body told me "I want to fuck you". That's distracting. He wanted to fuck ME!! I'm the girl who hasn't been laid in three years. I haven't had a committed relationship in my entire life. I never even went steady in high school. This beautiful, intelligent, gentle, passionate, passionate boy wanted to fuck ME! It was too confusing, too overwhelming to contemplate. Before long I realized it. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to fuck me like I've never wanted anything in my life. 

I was a bundle of nerves. I could hardly concentrate on our work. I tried the 'personal relief' method of sexual fulfillment on Monday night. It hardly made a dent in my arousal. I tried it Tuesday night, too. I just had to do something. My body was on fire.

Wednesday morning was only worse. I walked in a little late. Andrew was in the conference room waiting for me. I reached out to shake his hand again, a business formality that is usually forgone after a day or two of meetings. But I wanted to touch him again. He stood and took my hand. Again his hand felt like fire. Again I saw the gallant reaction. It sprung up like it was shot from a gun. 

This boy found me irresistible I think. How could that be? He could have his choice of any woman in this company, I'm sure. He's the youngest executive in the entire company. He's smart, sexy, beautiful. Every girl here must dream of being the one he chooses. Why would he choose me? I just didn't get it.

By Wednesday I was wondering if we would ever get anything done. I was wondering if Andrew was ever going to make a pass at me. I was wondering if I should be on this project at all. I had lunch with Bob Simon, another consultant from BRMC.

I broached the possibility of changing business partners. He wasn't very receptive. I told him that Andrew and I were experiencing some 'compatibility problems'. He suggested we work things out. If no solution was possible, he would reluctantly change partners. But he felt we should be able to resolve the problem ourselves. 

I knew he was right, of course. But I knew of only one way to resolve our problems, Andrew and I. And that way wasn't exactly a professional solution, was it? It was to a point where sticking to my principles about non-involvement with clients might be hurting the project rather than helping it. I had to keep telling myself that, because otherwise, how else would I work up the courage to proposition Andrew? It looked like he had no intention of propositioning me.

After lunch I asked Andrew to meet with me privately. I even locked the conference room door to avoid interruptions. I needed him to tell me that he was attracted to me. If I had read this thing wrong, I would just die. 

I said, "Andrew, we have to talk."

I was somewhat frank with him. I told him that he appeared uncomfortable with me around. I wondered if he would rather work with another BRMC consultant, that I had even arranged it if that was his wish. He adamantly denied wanting to change partners. Good. But he still refused to open up with me. So I insisted. I appealed to his friendship. I needed to know what the problem was that was making it so difficult for us to work together. (I knew what my problem was, but I had to hear from him what his problem was.)

He made me promise that I wouldn't hold what he said against him. He implied that he was worried that I would bring a sexual harassment charge against him. I had to smile. The thought had occurred to me that he might do the same thing to me.

And then he opened up to me. For the first time one of us was speaking their true feelings. He spoke oh so passionately. It was like poetry. He had a theory. He blamed it on chemistry or something. We were free and clear according to this theory, not guilty of impropriety, since it was all outside our control. We were victims of a biological reaction which was impossible to control and so were not responsible for our own actions. I liked this theory.

He was worried that I would be afraid of him. He thought I might consider him a potential stalker. He asked if it would be all right to just go back to the way things were, ignoring the obvious for the sake of the project. In my mind I thought, "I don't think so."

I brought up the age difference. He was ready for it. If it didn't matter to him, why should it matter to me? Of course it didn't matter to me, except for me feeling inferior to his other possible partners who were certainly younger and prettier. 

Am I paranoid? Should I be wondering what's in it for him? I asked him straight out. Was he looking to get on my good side in order to use me in this company reorganization effort? 

I could tell from his eyes that he was hurt that I would even suggest such a thing. He didn't understand how vulnerable I had become. I've been on my own for years. It was my choice to be on my own. I only regret that choice every evening when I'm along in my hotel room. But could I give myself to this boy? How would he use me? I'm so lonely I'm an easy mark. 

It was then I realized that if I was such an easy mark, why hadn't I been laid in three years? I'm a consultant. Sometimes I'm too analytical. But I knew that if I let this boy into my life, I was at his mercy. That takes a lot of trust.

He reminded me that I forced him to open up. Of course I knew that. I can't help my insecurities. I told him of my inability to be in relationships because of my job. I put up every roadblock I could think of to our being together, and he saw through all of them. 

Then he started on some rant about class and business ethics and how I was far too sophisticated to be interested in a little nothing like him. I couldn't believe my ears! He didn't think I could be interested in HIM! The most beautiful, sexiest, sweetest man I'd ever met thought I was too good for HIM!

I decided that I had to have him as soon as possible. I just had to. I'm a businesswoman. I'm not good with my feelings. I'm good with a logical progression of ideas. But I came prepared with a business solution. Actually it was an excuse to get laid, but it sounded kind of like a business solution. 

I told him that we should do something to alleviate his gallant reaction. Two casual business associates do not generally sit around talking about one of the associate's constant state of arousal and how to address that arousal. I could tell that he was shocked by my proposal, but desperate. He agreed. I knew that I had to say more. I knew that it seemed like I was interested only in the project and was willing to do anything, even that, to make the project work. 

I admitted to Andrew that I wanted him to have me. I'm not eloquent like Andrew is. He made my heart sing with his praise, with his poetic protestations of devotion. I've never had a man talk to me like that. 

Finally he said yes! I was so excited. We had to wait till the evening. I could do that. I've waited for years and years. What were a few more hours? They were eternity. I thought the day would never end. 

I was as nervous as ever; more so. But now it was for a different reason. Would I be good enough? How could he want to be with me when he could be with so many other more beautiful women? I've got to get that thought out of my mind. He told me. It's a chemical reaction caused by our body chemistries. Yeah, right. I was attracted to him because he was beautiful, smart, funny, thoughtful, and the owner of an industrial strength penis (at least it looked that way). But what did he see in me? I was a nervous wreck.

After work I rushed to my hotel. I took an inordinate amount of time preparing for the evening. I did everything I could to make this tired 35 year old body attractive to that lovely 25 year old boy. I've never needed someone to want me before. I'm an independent business person who can look out for herself. But God, I needed him to want me. 

Andrew met me in the lobby of my hotel, looking dashing. I told myself to remain calm, to go out and enjoy the dinner, when I really wanted to grab him and drag him up to my room. 

We walked to a lovely little Japanese restaurant where the food was wonderful and Andrew and I could talk and learn a little about each other. I enjoyed it so, but by the end of dinner my patience was wearing thin. 

Andrew must have read my mind, because he paid the waiter as soon as he brought the check, grabbed my hand and hurried us outside the restaurant. We walked back to the hotel so quickly that I'm not sure who was dragging who. 

We got to the hotel and went up to my room. I closed the door behind us and Andrew was all over me. He pushed me to the wall and kissed me for the first time. It was the most passionate kiss I had ever received. The boy was hot for me! I felt his hands all over me. They were tearing at my clothes, stripping me faster than I could have stripped myself. His hands were demanding, forcing me to his will. 

He led me to the bed, I fell back in a haze of lust and something, maybe it was romance. My whole being centered on that bed, watching my lovely boy tear off his own clothes with no regard to their well-being. I hardly had a chance to gaze at his body before he attacked. He was on top of me in an instant. And then he was in me! There was no foreplay, no loving caress, no slow build up. Well actually we had been engaged in foreplay for three days. I was hot and wet long before we made it to the room.


I felt his manhood against my neglected pussy lips and tried to open to accommodate him. His penis hurtled into my pussy. He didn't make love to me. He took me. He took me hard. Suddenly he was inside me, pounding his cock in and out. 

I tried to protest. It was too much, too soon. "No, wait", I said. "It hurts." I tried to stop him but he was relentless. No one has ever wanted me so badly. It was like he was claiming me, taking possession of me. My protests became weaker. "No. No. Oh my God. Oh MY GOD. Oh GOD. Oh GODDDD." 

He couldn't have made more than a half dozen strokes before I was crazed with lust. This man who I thought was a boy was fucking me and making sure that I stayed fucked. I came. I came harder than I had ever cum in my lifetime. And still he plundered me. The power of his strokes increased. I was climaxing again. It didn't matter to him. His strokes became stronger, more brutal. 

I was screaming. Every time I came, I screamed again. I don't know how many times I screamed. It was a lot. 

In the past on the instances when I had a man inside me I would savor the moment, compare his size to other penises I had experienced. Andrew didn't give me a chance to savor anything. I knew that any man who had had me in the past palled in comparison to Andrew's size. He must be huge. He was filling me to the brim, fucking me madly. I was rising to a crescendo of lust. It seemed that his penis was expanding inside me. After all this time, I knew he must be ready to climax. Then it happened.

I felt the amazing feeling of his hot seed splattering against my cervix. It was all I could take. I screamed at the top of my lungs. My body clenched, jerked, clenched again. My pussy grabbed onto Andrew's penis, spasming over and over again. I saw an unending bright light. I seemed to be looking down a tunnel of light. My body went limp. My mind went blank; totally devoid of thought. I felt nothing but eternity and my own beating heart. I know now what it's like to approach death. I was close to death. I could see it in the obituaries, my name. Cause of death: death by fucking.

How can the human heart endure such passion? 

I heard someone speaking as if from the bottom of a deep well. I knew he was talking to me, but the words wouldn't register. 

I finally realized it was Andrew. He was worried that I didn't like his method of lovemaking, I guess. He seemed to think that he had raped me. Well almost. All women love semi-rape. Maybe not all the time, but sometimes, once you've decided that you are gong to have sex with someone, it really feels right to have him just take you. Everything is out of your hands and you are just plain fucked. For a working person like myself who always needs to be in control, being out of control like that is not just exciting, it's liberating. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 02



To say this was the greatest sexual experience of my life would be to denigrate it by comparing it with any other experiences I had, when no comparison is possible. 

And yet Andrew seemed to be upset. I pulled myself back to the real world. I had the strength to let him know that I was not unhappy, just fucked into oblivion.

And then I laughed. 



Death By Fucking Ch. 03



This is a continuation of the “Death by Fucking” stories. Due to the nature of the narrative, it is recommended that you have read at least one of those stories in order to be ‘up to speed’ on the situations existing at the outset of this story.

Part 1 His Story:

We were lying in bed in Deirdre’s hotel room recovering from a bout of mind-blowing liberating sex, at least from my point of view. I had wanted to make slow sensuous love to this woman who had suddenly become the focus of my life. Instead I lost my head and it turned into a long hard monkey fuck. 

It was a mistake. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was this guy trying desperately to impress the woman of his dreams. The next minute I was primal man staking his claim on Eve in the Garden of Eden. 

Is it right to want someone that much? Is it healthy? What have I gotten myself into? Christ, the woman is going to be gone in two weeks never to be seen again. 

I told her this afternoon when I accepted her invitation to try to work off the sexual tension that had developed between us that I would probably hate myself in the morning. I wasn’t kidding.

I’m starting to hate myself right now, for two reasons. First I may have pissed away the opportunity of a lifetime by losing control during our first (and maybe only) lovemaking session. Second, I’ve fallen in love. I’ve got feelings for Deirdre that run deeper than I thought myself capable of. It’s a hopeless consuming passion. I’m addicted to her like the worst crack junky to his dope. And I’m lying here knowing she will be gone in two weeks. I’m a complete idiot.

Deirdre had been laughing at some little play on words that she somehow had the presence of mind to make through this emotional morass I find myself in. Let’s be honest, maybe she isn’t in the same emotional morass.

I had apologized for fucking her brains out. When I asked her what she was thinking, she said “Why, Andrew, I’m not thinking anything. I have no brains.”

And then she laughed. It was that warm infectious little laugh that I had grown to adore. It infected me and I laughed too, defusing my anxiety a little.

Suddenly she stopped laughing and came into my arms. Our bodies touched for the first time. Well it seemed like the first time. The last time I was in such a state of unbridled lust that I hardly noticed her body. Now she molded herself to me and our lips met. 

Deirdre is soft, indescribably soft. Her skin is like nothing I’ve ever touched before. It’s so soft it’s barely a solid. My hands roamed her back as we held each other. Her kiss was one that poets try to describe with no success. The softness of those lips, the electricity in her touch, the warmth, the gentleness of her embrace were all sucking me down into a permanent abyss of unquenchable romantic love. It was like part of me was outside myself, watching me drowning in Deirdre. 

Have you ever said to yourself, “This is going to kill me” and went right ahead and did it anyway? That was me with Deirdre. This relationship was going nowhere. Deirdre doesn’t do relationships. My life was going to end in two weeks. This is going to kill me. 

But she was with me now. I would have to make it feel like eternity.

Our kiss seemed to last an eternity. Neither of us wanted it to end, maybe. I know I didn’t. When she finally pulled away, her eyes were shining. She has this thing with her eyes. There is some kind of internal switch thing that she seems to be able to turn on and off. When the switch was on there was a light in her eyes that was mesmerizing, beautiful, dazzling. I thought it only happened when she smiled. 

She said, “Thank you, Andrew. That was the most beautiful thing that’s every happened to me.”

I was still apprehensive. “I wasn’t too rough with you?”

She smiled a little, a lovely warm smile. “No, you weren’t too rough. You were a bit overwhelming. But sometimes it’s wonderful to be overwhelmed.”

“I promise that if we do it again, I’ll take my time and be gentle. Something came over me just now. I wasn’t myself.”

She laughed. Her laugh was rich and melodious. Her eyes, her entire face, seemed to be laughing. “If that wasn’t you, I want to meet that other guy who just about killed me.”

Deirdre was a playful, delightful lover. Humor is such an integral part of her person, and it seemed to come out even more in the bedroom. She has a sweet relaxed way of dealing with everything. 

We held each other and talked. I wanted to know about her. All I knew were these basic facts: she grew up in the South; went to Duke; worked for a big consulting firm; was beautiful; was the person I’ve been waiting for forever. Maybe she didn’t feel like the person I’ve been waiting for forever. 

My arms were full of Deirdre as she told me a little of her life. I was right where I wanted to be, forever. 

“I’m from Savannah. Well, from a town outside of Savannah. Daddy was a doctor. Momma was a housewife. I’ve got a sister named Donna, but we call her Donnie.”

I was pleased. “You mean there is another woman who has your bloodlines? Wow. Is she at all like you?”

“Yes, we are very much alike. We’re about as close as sisters can be. I talk to her all of the time, and we tell each other everything.”

I made the obligatory leering grin and said, “Everything?”

She laughed again. Deirdre didn’t giggle. She had none of the nervous mannerisms I was used to in the young girls I had dated. If she thought something was funny, she laughed. If she was nervous, she admitted it. She never giggled. 

“Yes, everything. She is going to love this story.”

I was a little flip with her. “Oh, you tell her about all your love affairs, huh?”

She took the bait. Her eyes flared with a different kind of spark, and I knew that this was as close to angry that I’d ever seen Deirdre. 

“I don’t do relationships, Andrew. And I don’t have casual affairs. I never tell Donnie about my love life because I have no love life. I don’t have time for a love life.” 

She seemed to calm down a bit as this came out. I held her even tighter and I could feel her tenseness relax. 

“I’m sorry, Deirdre. Maybe I’m a little vulnerable right now. This thing we are doing here, I know you don’t do relationships, so it can’t be a relationship. But it feels like a relationship to me.”

I heard her whisper, “Dee Dee”.

“Dee Dee?” I questioned.

“Yes the people closest to me call me Dee Dee.”

“Who calls you Dee Dee?”

“Momma, Daddy and Donnie are about it. I don’t have that many people I’m close to.” Deirdre was snuggling her head into my shoulder, kind of like a kitten rubbing against your leg. It felt wonderful. 

I said, “You wouldn’t mind if I called you Dee Dee?”

“I’d like it.” Deirdre wasn’t looking at me. Her face was buried in my shoulder.

I brought my hand to her chin and lifted her face next to mine. “Thank you, Dee Dee”, I said, and then I kissed her, a soft gentle kiss of gratitude. I know it sounds ridiculous. She merely let me call her by her nickname, no big thing. But I felt like some threshold had been crossed. This private woman with no friends was asking me to be her friend. I wanted more, but every journey starts with the first step.

I wasn’t horny. Jeez, I’d just had the greatest sexual experience of my life a few minutes ago. How could I be horny? But my mood was romantic. I took her face in my hands and planted a soft kiss on each cheek. Then I kissed her lips. It was one of those languid, no hurry kisses; the kind that seem to reach down to your heart and set it on fire. 

I slid my lips down her throat and began kissing her neck. God, it was a beautiful neck. I felt myself sucking on that neck, trying to make it mine. I finally came to my senses and let up the pressure, seconds before placing a serious hickey on the neck of a thirty-five year old business woman.

She didn’t seem to mind. Her eyes were closed and a soft lazy smile was on her lovely face. I worked my way down her chest. I was finally at her breasts. They were small and perfect. It was if she had been the model for the Champaign glass rather than Marie Antoinette. They were round, soft, white, and perfectly symmetrical, with small dark, perfectly suckable nipples. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I devoured those breasts. I made gentle love to those perfect nipples, softly licking them, gently biting them, then forcefully sucking them. By this time our previous encounter was a forgotten memory and my dick was as hard as a rock. But Dee Dee just lay there happily, allowing me to slowly worship her body. When I nibbled on her nipple I felt her body shudder and her chest pushed its way deeper into my mouth. 

I finally was able to pull myself away from her gorgeous tits and continued to kiss my way down her body. I reached her belly button. She has an ‘inny’. Every thing about Deirdre is provocative to me. Her belly button was absolutely sensual. 

There’s this theory I read about. It’s a good theory and I kind of subscribe to it. Here’s the theory: All primate males are ass men. When stated succinctly like that, I don’t suppose it’s much of a theory. But what it means is this: the females in primate species generally advertise their sexual availability by having an inflamed ass. Primate males are always aware of the state of a female’s ass, because he wants to fuck her whenever she is willing. Now an exception to the rule is Homo sapiens. Something happened during the course of evolution, something related to pair bonding maybe. But human females became sexually receptive year round. How did the human female evolve to advertise the fact that she is ALWAYS sexually available? She did it by evolving pseudo-asses all over her body. Look at the softness, the curve of a woman’s shoulder; the roundness, the cleavage of a woman’s tits. The knees, when bent, legs held together look like a small ass. All primate males are ass men, human males are no exception. 

This brings me back to Deirdre’s belly button, which to me looked like it was practically a second pussy. I attacked that pseudo-pussy with my tongue, practically fucking it. As I kissed my way down Dee Dee’s stomach, my hands had been fondling those lovely breasts, gently pinching those sexy nipples. Then I slid them down and beneath her legs and started squeezing her round soft ass. My body had slipped down between her legs. My mouth started working its way down from her belly button. 

Dee Dee’s eyes finally opened. She gazed on me with a look of apprehension. “Wait, Andrew. I’m not sure you should go there.”

My body was already between her legs. I brought my arms under her legs so that they were on my shoulders. I looked up to her with as innocent an expression as I could muster, given the circumstances.

“Go where?” I asked.

“You know perfectly well where. Andrew, we just made love!”

“So? What’s your point?” I can be oblique as the next guy when I want to be. In the meantime I had allowed my fingers to softly crawl across her inner-thigh. I was circling her sex without actually touching it. Dee Dee seemed to shift her hips, almost as if her pussy were seeking my fingers.

Her eyes closed in passion. She grimaced, as if in pain. Then her eyes opened again.

“Andrew, no one’s ever gone there before.” She was looking at me solemnly. 

I couldn’t help but grin. “So in a way you’re a virgin, at least in that”, I said.

“And in a lot of other ways that I intend to remain a virgin at,” she said. She was smiling now and I could tell her objections about the direction my mouth was going were no longer worrying her. Deirdre was playful in bed. The passion was fabulous, but between the heights of passion, Dee Dee was having fun. 

I licked her thighs. When my tongue touched that soft, soft skin, Deirdre shuddered. My tongue slowly worked its way toward Deirdre’s center. 

I blew softly on her lips. They were wet, red and swollen. My tongue reached out and traced a path along Dee Dee’s pussy lips. 

I was suddenly aware of her eyes on me. She was watching intently as I licked her lips. I lifted her hips a little more with my shoulders. Now I could work on her pussy with my mouth and look at her face at the same time. Our eyes locked in a look of passion, as my mouth took hold of one of her lips and I licked it, sucked on it, softly nibbled on it. 

She was moaning now. Her hips were swaying back and forth, round and round. It was as if she were working her pussy on my mouth. My tongue slid deeply into her and a cry escaped her lips. I replaced my tongue with a finger. I was exploring the walls of her pussy with my finger while my mouth sucked her lips, and then my tongue worked around the edges of her clit. I wanted her high, and I wanted her to stay there.

She was watching me with passion-glazed eyes, her hips moving to meet the rhythm of my fingers. I tasted her sweetness inter-mingled with the musky taste of my own cum. 

Her hip movements became more frenzied, her eyes closed, her head moving side to side. She was on the verge of a powerful orgasm; too soon, as far as I was concerned. I slowed my assault on her pussy, bringing the fast boil back to a simmer; a pretty damn fast simmer, I’ll admit, but at least she wasn’t in danger of boiling over.

Her eyes were open again, and this time that light was on. She was looking at me with her mouth open, an astonished smile on her face. She was gasping from her near-orgasm experience, but quickly settled back into the slightly slower rhythm I set for her.

I brought her to a boil again, again only to back off. Again and again I did it. Each time her level of arousal seemed to increase. Her face in the throes of passion is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. By now her hands were on my head, pulling me into her. Her knees were pulled up to her chest; her pussy was wide open, welcoming and demanding. 

God, I loved her. I sucked her clit between my lips, licking it with the flat of my tongue. I inserted a second finger into her pussy and worked her G spot. I heard her screaming.

Her whole body arched off of the bed. She was still screaming, but no sound was coming out. I felt her pussy clenching tightly around my fingers, her thighs clamping around my ears, her hands pulling my head to her middle.

I kept up the pressure, forcing her orgasm to higher and higher levels. Her arms were suddenly fluttering in the air, her eyes rolled back in her head. Finally she went completely limp, no longer able to actively participate in her own seduction. I kept gently eating her pussy, avoiding her clitoris. Her eyes were barely open, but she continued to watch the assault on her pussy. Before long I could feel her starting to respond again. The woman was deep in latent sexuality.

She reached out to me, beckoning me upwards. I took her hand and worked my way up her body. Our lips met, even though my face was totally covered in her erotic juices. As we kissed my cock slipped into her once again. 

I began a slow steady in and out movement. My hips rotated a little as I moved, forcing my cock to slide around as well as back and forth. The feeling was exquisite. Her soft warm inner walls seemed to massage my dick. 

We did that for a long time, gazing into each other’s eyes as I stroked in and out, round and round. I just had so much love for this woman. We were bonding in the way established by the australopithecines. It was as old as man himself, older than our species, the way Dee Dee and I made that intimate bond that belongs to every true couple. God, I hope she felt it too.

And then my passion came upon me. I started stroking in earnest, building up power, my lust overwhelming my love. I was slamming into her, eliciting a grunt from her with every stroke. Her legs wrapped around my hips as she gave herself totally to me. Harder and harder, higher and higher we climbed till there was nothing but the act of two people trying to achieve oneness through the intimate contact of their sex. And then oneness arrived. My dick seized, then sprayed shot upon shot of semen into her welcoming pussy. Her arms were around my neck, squeezing for all they were worth. She was deliriously babbling when her whole body tensed and a loud sharp scream signaled her orgasm.

We held each other for minutes afterwards. Deirdre’s eyes were closed as I kissed her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids and finally her lips. At last her eyes opened and the sides of her mouth curled up into an exhausted smile.

I thought I heard her whisper, “Death by fucking.”

Part 2 Her Story:

I’ve done it. I’ve opened myself up to a man for the first time in many years, maybe for the first time in my life. I’ve had sex in the past, not often perhaps, but with several partners. I’m not an innocent young thing. 

But that’s what I feel like. I feel like a virgin at the ball. I feel totally susceptible and yet totally accessible. What does that even mean? I’m vulnerable; very, very vulnerable. This could kill me. Can I take this kind of risk with this beautiful young man? I trust him. He’s good; deep down he’s good. But are we experiencing overpowering lust, or is there more to it? Is the lust based upon real values, true attraction? How can I know?

I’ve got to talk to Donnie. Maybe she can help clarify my emotions. I’ve got to get Donnie up here. She’ll know what to do, how to react. I don’t make any major decisions without my sister. I know that seems odd, but we are close; closer than any two sisters I’ve ever met. We are like two peas in a pod. When she meets Andrew perhaps she will be able to tell where physical attraction ends and emotional attraction begins. I’m afraid.

Andrew made love to me. I don’t swear very often. Momma and Daddy would die if they heard some of the things I’ve said to Andrew. I don’t think I’ve used the word ‘fuck’ a dozen times in my life, and yet here I am, thinking the word ‘fuck’ because that is the only word that applies. Yes, Andrew made love to me, but first he fucked me. What he did first could hardly be called lovemaking. It was fucking, pure and simple. I’ve never been so thoroughly fucked. 

I had been without a sexual partner for four years. Perhaps I had some built-up passion that had been waiting to be released. Andrew released it all. I am incapable of any more passion than Andrew provoked in me. 

We had just finished that wonderful animal-like fuck (I’m sorry but there just isn’t another way to say it). I wanted to be held. Andrew came into my arms and we kissed; a romantic, sensual kiss of gratitude and promise; gratitude for what we had given each other, promise of what was to come.

We talked. I wanted to know about this sweet man who had become the focus of my existence almost overnight. He’s from Ohio. He went to Youngstown State University. I had assumed he had majored in computer science, but I was mistaken. He majored in history! He is an endless well of surprises, all positive. Every time he talks, I learn something. He knows everything! 

I asked him the obvious question. “Why are you in computing when your degree is in history?”

He gave me a non-committal shrug. It’s no big deal to him. He said “I built my first computer when I was eight. You just pick things up. You’re part of the community and you share knowledge. Before I was out of high school I could have run most of the IT departments I’m familiar with. Why go to school for something you can pick up independently?”

So I asked another obvious question. “Why history? What in the world did you expect to do with history?”

“Oh it didn’t matter much which major I took. I was mostly interested in filling in my gaps in knowledge, in my understanding of the world. I took liberal arts, since the ability to think is a dying art, especially in America, where the authorities want to tell you what to think.”




Death By Fucking Ch. 03



“Andrew, I have a firm rule that I never talk politics in bed.”

He smiled an apologetic smile and said, “Sorry, Deirdre. I do get carried away.”

I asked him about his other interests. He’s interested in everything. He seems to have infinite obscure references at his fingertips. I’ve even heard him quote Betty Friedan. How many men can do that? How does all this information accumulate in one head? How is it so readily accessible for retrieval? He never seems to be stuck for a response. 

So I asked him. “How do you know all this? What good does it do you?”

He laughed. “I know all this because my brain is a repository of totally useless information, and I remember almost everything I read. I can’t help it. It’s not a talent, it’s a curse. What it’s good for is to play Jeopardy. I could be a professional Jeopardy player and make a lot of money. I’m waiting for the National Jeopardy League to come into existence. I’ll be taken in the first round of the draft. They’ll be selling Andrew Adkins NJL bubble gum cards.”

He builds these little imaginary scenarios that stand on their own but are just so ridiculous. How does he come up with them? I think it’s very funny. 

I asked him about his family. He’s from small town Ohio, father is dead, mother still living. He has a brother and sister, both living in mid-western cities holding down professional jobs. He isn’t close to any of his relatives.

I wanted to know about his love life. After all, I’ve made it perfectly clear that I have no love life. I didn’t want to appear too obvious, and I didn’t want to appear like it mattered to me one way or the other about his current love affairs, since they really weren’t any of my business. But I found that it did matter. I wanted to know. I guess I wanted to know what my competition was. Still, I don’t do relationships.

He was very open about it. “I’ve had a few somewhat serious relationships. I’m currently seeing no one that I expect to become serious with, present company excepted, of course.” (I felt a delicious tingle throughout my body when he said that.) “Nothing has panned out because I guess I’m looking for something that most women aren’t willing to give me.”

This was interesting. “What is it that you want that you can’t get?”

“I want someone who demands a relationship that is equal and open. I want a relationship where both people accept responsibility for making the relationship work. There has to be an open dialogue. I want a woman who I don’t bore to death and who doesn’t bore me to death. Unfortunately, that hasn’t been easy to come by. I’m interested in things that a lot of people find deadly dull. I want at least an intellectual equal. My ideal woman would be smarter than me, I guess. I want someone who thinks, who challenges me with her mind.” 

“I don’t want to find out that my partner has been brooding about something I said or didn’t say, did or didn’t do. If I do or say or not do or not say something that hurts my partner, I want to know about it immediately, so we can address the problem and get past it. “

“My last relationship broke up because this girl had been mad at me for over a month and I didn’t even know why. To this day I don’t know and I don’t care why. All she had to do was tell me. I asked her, of course, but she was like ‘I should know what I did wrong without having to be told’. What we had here was ‘failure to communicate’. No relationship can survive that. I let her down as painlessly as I could, but I had to let her down. We had no future without communication.”

“I guess I need a strong woman; someone who will tell me when I’ve failed to live up to expectations; someone who will insist that we work at our relationship every day of our lives. You have to have two people who think the relationship is the most important thing in their lives.” He got a sheepish expression on his face. He said, “I guess another reason I haven’t stuck with a woman is that I do go off on tangents.”

Well. I’m a girl whose every relationship has been built around the needs of the man I was with. I never felt that my opinions about anything really mattered to any of them. Mostly I was window dressing, and when they wanted an opinion from me, they would tell me what it was. 

I’m a smart person. I’m not embarrassed to admit that. I’ve got my MBA from Duke, and am close to my doctorate. But in my relationships with men, I’ve always been treated as if I were intellectually inferior. I think it’s kind of a Southern thing. I would be earning twice as much as my boyfriend, but would be treated like a child. Is it any wonder that I gave up on relationships? I’m not good at existing in that environment. 

And now Andrew is telling me his relationships failed for essentially the opposite reason. He needs a full partner. The women he’s been with wanted a traditional male-dominated relationship. Andrew just isn’t capable of that. He’s too sweet. He’s too considerate. He’s too smart. He needs a full partner. 

I’m getting scared. He’s so perfect. How could anyone be so perfect? How could we fit so well together? We appear to be the pieces that will fit into each other’s puzzle of a life to make both of us complete.

I’ve got to talk to Donnie. Andrew requires full disclosure. He doesn’t ask for anything except honesty. I haven’t been totally honest with him. It’s dishonesty by omission, but dishonesty nonetheless. After I talk with Donnie, I’ll decide about full disclosure. We are a strange family. I just don’t know if Andrew can handle that fact. But of all the men I’ve met in my life, I think that Andrew is the one most likely to accept me as I am, accept us as we are. I’m getting scared. I’m not sure if I’m scared that he can’t accept us or scared that he can.

We talked and laughed for a while. Andrew loves to laugh. He finds humor in everything. We spent the evening together and we were either laughing or making love the whole time. He knows how to fill all the time you spend with him with only good things.

Suddenly Andrew had enough of talking. He started to kiss me. He kissed all over my face. He started on my neck. There is something so sexy about having a boy suck on your neck. I think it’s because it reminds me of high school, when girls had to cover those love marks. I even got them on my breast, but I never showed them to anyone but Donnie. 

Andrew was doing all those high school-like things to my neck and it was giving me chills. He left my neck and went to my breasts. God it was like Andrew was the official breast inspector and he did all his inspections with his mouth. I’ve never had my breast so thoroughly inspected. His tongue was tantalizing. Under the circumstances, perhaps I should say, it was titillating, if you know what I mean.

I was totally passive throughout this process. I just laid there and let myself be loved. He is an expert at loving me; it seems he is the expert at loving me. Finally his mouth moved from my breasts to my belly button. His tongue just assaulted my belly button. It was such a sensual feeling. My state of arousal had been climbing, and now it was approaching a peak. 

I don’t know why I am so naive. I finally realized where Andrew was heading. My God, he was going to put his mouth on my sex! No one has ever done that for me. And we just finished making love. I was dripping with my own juices and with Andrew’s juices. I must have been a mess down there. 

Yes, I will admit that I have dreamed of someone doing that to me. Had Andrew told me he wanted to do it, I would have been properly prepared. I would have bathed and cleaned myself down there. I would have perfumed myself. Lord, I would have tied a bow around it. But not just after we made love!

Andrew was in total control. I had abdicated all responsibility, so I really couldn’t object to what he wanted to do, if he wanted to do it. That’s what I told myself. It was out of my hands. Thank God it was out of my hands. His fingers were teasing my sex, making me crazy. 

And suddenly, his mouth was there! His tongue licked a path right through the center of my pussy lips. It may have been the most wondrous sensual feeling of my life. His mouth was doing wonderful things to me. He claimed to be a history major, but I think he got his degree in pussy eating. I had to watch.

He caught me watching. I’ve never seen a person who enjoys his work as much as Andrew. I could see it in his eyes, his beautiful deep brown eyes. Our eyes met and I knew. He loves me. He worships my body. He loves to give me pleasure. How could the act of a man going down on a woman be so romantic? Andrew was making love to me with his mouth, and with his hands, and with his eyes. 

When we had intercourse that was just fucking, primal primitive mating. But now we were making love. It was so sensual, so lovely. I reached down and held his head in my hands. I just wanted to touch him. He was so relaxed, so unhurried. He seemed to be exactly where he wanted to be and would stay for as long as I let him. 

I know that when ‘tongue’ becomes an Olympic sport, Andrew will win the gold for length and strength. And he is a shoe-in for the tongue marathon. He’s been graced with two perfect sexual organs. I’m so lucky!

God, Andrew started working me over. He was playing me like a violin. I would almost be to my peak of passion, and then he would bring me down a little. Then he would bring me close to my climax again. I couldn’t believe it! He knew my mood. He knew what I was feeling. I became more and more aroused. My hips were pushing my pussy into his mouth. My legs were squeezing his head. The poor boy must be suffocating. I couldn’t help it. He had me so hot!

Oh, his fingers were in me. His mouth seemed to suck in my clitoris. He began to gently lick it as his fingers rubbed inside my passage. I screamed. My orgasm erupted! My body arched so high he almost fell off of the bed. But somehow his mouth stayed clamped to my pussy. His tongue pushed me higher and higher. I had achieved a continuous orgasm, but my oxygen supply was gone. I collapsed onto the bed just trying to breath. And still his mouth was on my pussy, loving it, massaging it, worshiping it. 

I have this person, this perfect wonderful handsome young man, and he worships my pussy! When I was sufficiently recovered, I reached out to him. I had to hold him. I had to feel him holding me. He came up and our lips met in a soft sensuous kiss. 

And suddenly his rock hard erection was slipping into me again. It felt wonderful. It filled me to the brim, making me stretch to accommodate its width, feeling its length touching my cervix. 

He was in no hurry. We looked into each other’s eyes as he slowly pumped in and out of me. I felt us bonding. I’ve never bonded with anyone except my sister. But this man, this wonderful loving man, made me feel so full of emotion that it kept threatening to come out my eyes. I held back my tears. I forced myself to hide them. 

We kissed again, so passionately, so lovingly. I was giving myself to him fully. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words, but he must know it! I won’t say it. I can’t say it till Donnie says I can. I know that sounds weird. I am weird. But if body language counts for anything, he knows. I can’t give him more of a commitment than that at this time. It wouldn’t be fair to him or to Donnie. But I love him.

That mutual, unspoken, acknowledgement of our feelings of love was what it took to move Andrew’s lovemaking to a different level. He had been in me forever. How long, really? It must have been close to an hour. And that was after he had eaten me for at least an hour. They were the two most wonderful hours of my life.

Andrew almost instantly reverted to the madly passionate boy he had been when he first came into my room. He was suddenly pounding me. Powerful and more powerful strokes were igniting me with waves of passion, waves of love, waves of lust. I wanted to hold him and kiss him forever. I wanted him to feel just a tiny bit of the ocean of emotion that had welled within me. 

He was riding me wildly. I was whimpering with my need. I opened up for him, made myself totally vulnerable for him. I spread my legs for him, wrapped my legs around his waist to give him deeper and deeper access to my being. I thought I would explode from the passion.

And suddenly the wave broke. I felt his hardness swell within me. I felt wave upon wave of liquid warmth filling my pussy. I was shaking with my release, screaming, then mouthing wordless noises, my body clenched on him, feeling only his wonderful penis as it spasmed its last shot within me. 

It’s impossible to describe my feelings. I never suspected there could be a time like this for me. He loves me. He said the words, but more importantly he told me with his eyes, with his mouth, with his heart. I believe him. 

I love him. I haven’t told him, but he must know. I’ve told him with my eyes. I’ve told him with my arms. I’ve told him with my heart. He must know.

To achieve that passion, that peak of emotion with your true love is the most perfect moment that we’ve been given on this earth, outside of childbirth. I never even suspected that this feeling was possible. How could I?

My body is awash in sexual satisfaction, brought on by a romantic, passion-filled coupling with the love of my life. I’ve never felt so complete. I’ve never felt more loved. I’ve never felt more love. I’m dizzy with the overflow of my emotions. 

Life can be wonderful and it can be awful at the same time. I’ve got two weeks to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.



Death By Fucking Ch. 04



 Chapter 4: Andrew's Story

We had spent an evening of love and sex, Dee Dee and I. It was time for me to be off. We both have work in the morning. Oh, boy. Wonder what that's going to be like? 

She was lying partially under the cover, one arm thrown carelessly above her head, her eyes closed and a sensual, lazy smile on her face. I could see her semi-nude form looking so warm and inviting and could feel myself stirring once again. 

I finished dressing and walked over to her bed, kneeled at the bedside and put my arms around her. I took her in my arms and gave her a gentle kiss. 

"Thank you, Dee Dee, for a wonderful evening. You know that if you ever need anything from me, all you have to do is ask."

She never opened her eyes. She seemed like a sleepy kitten. "Thank you Andrew. That was lovely!"

And just like that, she was asleep. I can take a hint. I kissed her cheek once more, and then made my way out and home. 

I figured if this wouldn't change the dynamic in our relationship, nothing would. I was more than a little apprehensive that Thursday morning as I entered the conference room. I saw that I was the first to arrive. Well, there are only two of us, so I could only be first or last. 

The previous three days of meetings with the lovely Ms. Martin had been tense, to use her word. Mostly I was in a constant state of arousal whenever she was near me. I split my time between worrying about a sexual harassment lawsuit and wondering about how I could get her to bed. 

Well I don't have to worry or wonder anymore. But I know Deirdre well enough to know that she is going to be all business. She's probably already had second and third thoughts about last night. She's worried about the appearance of impropriety. She may be worried about my respect for her as a business associate after I fucked her senseless and had her begging for mercy.

Yes, this morning would be interesting.

She came breezing into the conference room looking business-casual stunning. 

She said "Oh, hello Andrew. I'm glad you're here already. We have a lot of work to catch up on. Now that the tension is, ahem… broken, if you know what I mean." And then she laughed.

I had to laugh myself. The woman is funny in a cute, up-front sort of way. She doesn't avoid problems. She confronts them. But she confronts them with her little throw-away jokes that seem to defuse the problem as she confronts it. 

Actually this joke didn't exactly defuse my problem. Yes, I was glad to see Deirdre's reaction to our night before. But I thought she would be cool about it. She's always cool.

But if I thought that a little tension relieving would alleviate my natural physical reaction to her presence, I was sadly (or happily as the case may be) mistaken. There was an stirring at my midsection and suddenly my pants were again pointing towards Deirdre. 

If she noticed, she only showed it by allowing her smile to broaden a bit. Her whole being seemed to emanate contentedness, kind of like a warm, well-fed kitten.

Deirdre could have acted a number of ways when she came to work. She could have been nervous and self-conscious; acting like the whole thing had been a terrible mistake. She could have acted like a love sick teenager, allowing our mutual attraction to interfere with the jobs we both had to do. Instead she was all business with just this veneer of relaxed, happy sexuality. She was for all the world like a competent businesswoman, but one who had been thoroughly and pleasantly fucked and was basking luxuriously in the afterglow.

This beautiful girl seemed incapable of being anything but desirable. Every aspect of her personality as it was revealed showed her to be sexy, warm, and fully comfortable with herself. 

Deirdre and I spent the morning actually working and making great progress. I don't know if I mentioned it, but Deirdre is a brain. If she has an idea that I disagree with, with just a little explanation on her part I can be brought around to her point of view. I'm a logical kind of guy, and I succumb to impeccable logic. 

Yeah, right. I'll admit that it's difficult to be objective while staring into Deirdre's eyes. Generally speaking, if she wants something, I'll agree to it. 

Let me rephrase that. It's to the point that I'll do anything she wants. If she wants it, I'll do it. All she needs do is ask, and I'll give it to her. Anything; anything at all, I'll do.

This places me in a somewhat weakened negotiating position.

I'm into theories. I like to translate the happenings of the world and of my life into logical wholes to understand the meaning behind the facts, the 'why' of the 'what'. I often have insights, flashes of inspiration that reveal the mysterious workings of the world. Well, most of the time I have such insights it's when I'm high. The next morning I can never remember what they were. But I'm pretty certain they were insightful. 

Man thinks with his dick. Okay, you're saying that you may have heard this theory before and it's not exactly original, and by the way buddy, where's your proof? To the simple statement that 'man thinks with his dick' I add the codicil that 'dick-thinking' if you care to call it that, dovetails nicely with my theory of chemical attractors. As I work with this theory, I realize I am approaching a kind of 'unified theory', marrying the various theories into a single, workable whole. 

My 'chemical attractors' theory has it that very occasionally two people's body chemistries are so compatible that the people become almost like a drug to each other. It's something to do with receptors within one person that perfectly fit the pheromones or chemical secretions or skin or something of the other person. Well I'll admit that this aspect of my theory needs a little work. 

So we can use my 'chemical attractors' theory as the mechanism that drives my 'man thinks with his dick' theory. The likelihood of two people who are chemical attractors actually meeting each other is so small that it rarely ever happens. 

But when it does, it answers another universal question. You can look back in history; you sometimes see it manifested by people in your own life, sometimes even people in your own family, sometimes even yourself. Someone does something just crazy. And you say to yourself, "What the fuck was he thinking?" 

We have the answer. He was thinking with his dick; the fatal result of his being intellectually in thrall to his chemical attractor. 

This is a good theory! I'm not expecting the Nobel Prize or anything, but maybe the Pulitzer would be in order.

This is all in explanation of the fact that I will do whatever Deirdre wants me to do, and gladly. I'm living proof of the 'man thinks with his dick' theory. 

We had been at it for about an hour. I was sitting to Deirdre's left at the conference table since we were both looking at numbers being displayed on her laptop. Suddenly out of the blue I felt a hand on my dick. It went from three-quarters hard to full extension so fast I thought it was going to tear a whole in my pants. I must have jumped two feet in the air.

I said, "Deirdre! What are you doing?"

She removed her hand, smiled and said, "Just checking", and returned to the work as if nothing had happened. That kind of thing can make you crazy.

An hour later she did it again. All of a sudden her hand was on my dick, just kind of patting it like a favored dog. She shook her head with a mock-sad look on her face and said, "You poor thing. It must be awful to feel that way."

I said, "It's way better than the alternative."

She looked puzzled. "What's the alternative?"

"Not feeling that way."

She said "Oh" and then returned to the work with no further comment. She just kept to the job, but her demeanor all morning was so alluring that I was practically panting by lunch time. 

She glanced at her watch at about 12:15 and said, "Are you ready for lunch?"

Food was the furthest thing from my mind, but I responded "I could eat."

She nodded her head and said, "So can I".

Deirdre stood and walked to the door of the conference room. I was expecting her to leave, perhaps go to the Ladies room to freshen up. Instead she locked the door and turned to me.

"We're on our break now. We're off the clock. Now I can do something I've wanted to do all day."

She walked over to me. I was still seated, but turned my chair away from the conference table so I was facing her. She stood between my legs, took my face in her hands and brought our lips together in a kiss of greeting and promise. I felt those wonderful lips working their magic. I was enthralled with her again.

She finally broke the kiss and said, "Thanks, I needed that."

I was shocked as she slowly dropped to her knees in front of me. Her hands went to my belt, then to my zipper. She grabbed the top of my pants with each hand and looked into my eyes expectantly. I got the picture. I lifted my hips. She dragged my pants and boxers down with one motion and my dick jumped up and hit her on the cheek.

She laughed and grabbed for it with that dainty hand. She held my dick in her hand, only inches from her face. Her lovely eyes looked up at mine and she smiled. 

"I've never done this before. I've never even thought about it before. Andrew, I've been thinking about virtually nothing else since Monday morning. And, you poor dear: you need to work off some of the tension that's developed this morning. I think I can help you with that."

She brought my dick up and planted a gentle kiss on the head. It lurched up so fast I thought it was going to put her eye out. She licked the underside. 

"Oh, God!" I groaned. The woman made my head spin. She sucked the head of my dick into her mouth and I felt her tongue licking the head, swirling around the hole. Her hands cupped my balls, massaging them, gently squeezing them.

She took several inches down her throat. She was on her knees, her head at my lap, but her eyes never left mine. Let me tell you, this is the best way to get a blow job. That's a stupid statement. Any way you get a blow job is the best way to get a blow job. But eye to eye contact adds a thrill of intimacy to the act. It ceases being just a mechanical function. 

She was pleasuring me and loving it. I don't know if she found the act itself exciting, but I could tell that my reaction to what she was doing directly fed her desire to do more. 

If I didn't know better, I would swear she was acting like a person bestowing a special gift on the one she loves. 

Her head was moving up and down, going deeper, and then pulling out. Her tongue was doing magical things. I was moaning. My hips took on a mind of their own, pushing into her mouth, timing the thrusts with the movement of her head. I'd been hard all day. I needed relief desperately. My eyes were half closed; I was losing my sense of reason. I was rotating my hips on her face. My breath was coming in short gasps. 

Her eyes were still locked on mine. My balls tightened up. My dick started to swell. It was as if she sensed what was about to happen. Her eyes lit up! She turned on this switch and I was dazzled by the light in her eyes. It was all I could take. I began to cum. My hands were on the sides of her head, guiding her, holding her, as I shot my load down her throat. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head as she milked every drop of juice from my cock. I collapsed into the chair as Deirdre continued to gently lick my softening dick. 

I should note that we didn't have a discussion about me cumming in her mouth as it were. Perhaps I should have asked. Perhaps a true gentleman would have pulled out. But I'm not only a gentleman, I'm a systems analyst. I realized that had I pulled out of her mouth, I could have sprayed semen all over the place, even on that gorgeous business-casual outfit of Deirdre's. So it was in the best interests of all involved that I cum in her mouth. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Deirdre's mouth was still on my now-soft dick when I finally recovered enough to open my eyes and look at her. She was still looking directly in my eyes. She slowly, almost reluctantly, backed her mouth away from my dick. When she was sure that I was watching she opened her mouth and I could see it was filled to the brim with my cum. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed. 

Christ! It was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen in my life. I pulled her from her knees into my arms and kissed her. It was a passionate kiss of almost animal lust and I tasted myself in her mouth.

She pulled away from the kiss and said "I know you're not going to believe this, but I'm still hungry. How about lunch?"

What do you say to something like that? We kissed one last lingering time and then popped off to the corner deli for sandwiches. 

The afternoon went much as the morning. We were putting together our part of the project in a really timely fashion. Too damn timely as far as I was concerned. We had been allocated three weeks to get this done, but I could see now that it wouldn't take nearly that long. My time was running out.

Several times in the afternoon, Deirdre suddenly touched my erection through my pants. It sounds erotic, but let me tell you, it scares the hell out of you to have someone grab your dick when you aren't expecting it. 

Finally I couldn't take it any more. She grabbed me and squeezed. Then started rubbing my length with her palm. It was exasperating. 

I wasn't exactly angry. How can you be angry at a girl who likes to feel your dick? But it was making me crazy. I said "Deirdre, stop that!"

She looked repentant. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I just need to know that it still wants me."

I lowered my voice. I was afraid I might yell so loud that they could hear me in Cincinnati.

"Dee Dee! At 5:00 this afternoon we are leaving this office. We are going straight back to your hotel room. And I am going to fuck you senseless. Don't argue with me. Don't tell me you're hungry. Don't tell me you're not in the mood. We'll take care of any needs you have afterwards. But first I've got to fuck the living shit out of you. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head solemnly. "Yes, Andrew."

"Good. Let's get back to work then."

But the closer we got to 5:00, the more pressure built in me. It felt almost like anger but it wasn't. Maybe it was powerful anticipation, how do I know what the hell it was? I was ready to explode. My only desire in the world was to get my dick into Deirdre. I was fucking obsessed. 

Finally it was 5:00! I hurried Deirdre along, but she got the picture. She knew what I was going through and realized she better put out and fast, if only for the state of my mental health. 

She walked to the door of the conference room and turned back to me.

"Andrew honey, wait here ten minutes before you follow me to my hotel, okay?"

I was like a petulant child. "Ten minutes?" I asked. It sounded like ten hours to me. I was horny!

"Yes, Andrew, ten minutes. I have to pee. You will give the condemned prisoner a chance to pee before the execution, won't you?"

"All right! All right! Go! You're cutting in to my ten minute allotment here." She kissed my cheek, then opened the conference room door and was gone. 

Ten minutes takes a long time when you are counting backwards from six hundred. I felt like I was a kid again when my dad wouldn't let us go downstairs on Christmas until 7AM. Since we were always awake by 6, it made Christmas morning a living hell for us, watching that clock move slowly towards 7. 

I was out the door on the count of 1 and went straight to the hotel. I was overflowing with need. I needed her and only her right now. 

I knocked on her hotel room door. It opened. She was there, wearing only a silken robe. I quickly stepped in, closed the door behind me and took her in my arms. 

We kissed. It was a kiss of passion, romance, and lust. My hands opened her robe. It dropped to the floor and suddenly she stood naked in my arms. I didn't have time for niceties. I scooped her up and carried her to the bed. I tore at my clothes, throwing them everywhere in my haste. I clamored onto the bed and suddenly I was home. 

I was deep within her, driving into her, claiming her for my own. She was a full partner in her ravishment, her face a mask of lust. Her arms were around my back, her fingernails ineffectually clawing at me. Her legs were spread, her knees bent, her feet flat on the bed. I was roaring my passion, she was screaming hers. We were lust-crazed, primal animals. 

As I rode her she had several orgasms, but my dick was like steel. I couldn't even slow down, I couldn't give her a break. I needed to pour my seed into her. I needed to show her down in the most primitive parts of her organism that she belonged to only me. She had to know that. I couldn't share her with anyone. She was mine!

I was building to a massive release. Somehow I was driving into her even harder than before. I felt it coming, and then I was there! My prick exploded as her pussy was bathed in my seed. Her orgasm was triggered by the flow. She screamed her release, her head thrown back, body arched and frozen in its passion. 

And then she collapsed. She lay there with her arms extended, her legs extended, like a rag doll. Her eyes were closed and she was muttering something so quietly that I couldn't make it out. 

I lay by her side and took her into my arms once again. When her eyes opened I could see tears. I tried to comfort her. I stroked her face; I told her I loved her. 

"Sweetheart, was I too rough for you? I'm so sorry." I just wanted her to be happy. I just wanted her to love me.

She put on a brave smile and shook her head. "No, Andrew. You could never be too rough for me when you are like that. I don't know how to thank you for these last two nights. They are just so special to me." 

I kissed her and her soft passionate embrace was enough to stoke my fires yet again. I could never get enough of her. Never.

I worked my kisses down her body, spending time to worship and adore every spot along the way. My mouth came to her sex and I began to worship her in earnest. I worked her over slowly, bringing up her passion in a lazy curve, but always increasing. I so enjoy going down on Deirdre.

I inserted a finger into her and began a stroking motion as my mouth continued to make love to her pussy. She was starting to hump my face, her moans continuous as she was rocketing toward another mind-numbing orgasm.

But I had other ideas. I'm not a cruel person, you understand. But I needed to know something. I needed to know how she felt about me. She seemed reluctant to tell me how she felt. Perhaps with a little incentive I could get it out of her.

I could tell she was close to her orgasm, so I backed off a little, brought her down just enough to keep her near the edge but unable to go over the top. Several times she approached her climax, and each time she was denied. She was getting delirious. 

I gave her pussy a passionate kiss, ran my tongue over her clitoris, and then raised my head. My finger continued to plunge in and out of her pussy. 

"Dee Dee. Dee Dee, honey. I need to ask you something."

Her eyes shot open. She was confused. "What? What? What do you want?"

"Dee Dee, I need to know how you feel about me. I'm kind of lonely out here all by myself. Why don't you tell me how you feel?"

She shook her head. "No. Don't ask that, please. I'm sorry, but don't ask that."

I licked her clit a few times just to get her attention. I slid a second finger into her pussy. My other hand reached around and I gently rubbed her other hole with one finger. 

"Come on, Dee Dee. All you have to do is tell me, and I'll finish you off."

"God, Andrew. How could you be so mean!? Oh, Oh God, OH GOD, Please. PLEASE! ANDREW! PLEASE!"




Death By Fucking Ch. 04



I was feeling a little guilty about it, but I've never known a woman before who I could do this to, just have her begging for it. It felt good.

"Dee Dee. Dee Dee, honey. How do you feel about me?"

Again I allowed my tongue to circle her clit, giving just enough stimulation to drive her crazy, but not enough to finish her off.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"All right, you bastard! I admit it. I love you. I love you more than I love my own life. I love you now and forever. I LOVE YOU."

I couldn't bring myself to finish her off like that. Instead I took her in my arms and entered her. I had to be inside her. We loved each other. I had to fuck her. As my dick slid into her she screamed her orgasm. I pumped her viciously as I could feel my own climax quickly approach. Again I sprayed her full of my seed, again I staked my claim. She was mine. It was the happiest moment of my life.

We lay in each other's arms for at least an hour, dozing, and recovering. Deirdre had her eyes closed and had her head buried in my shoulder. Finally she rolled away from me buried her head in the pillow and began to cry. She was quietly weeping into the pillow, but the crying seemed to gain momentum and suddenly she was bawling piteously, great sobs wracking her body. 

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shuddered and moved away from it.

"Dee Dee, baby. What's wrong? Are you all right?"

She gasped out her answer between sobs. "I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible person! I know I'm awful! How can you stand me? You must hate me. Please don't hate me, Andrew. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say it!"

"Say what?" I asked disingenuously.

"You know perfectly well what!" she said. "Why do you pretend you don't know what I'm talking about?"

I tried soothing her. "Sweetheart, it's all right. I love you. I forced you to say it. I won't hold you to it. You don't have to love me if you don't want to."

Her wails increased. She could barely get the words out. "But I do! I do love you. I can't help how I feel. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. I'm an awful person!"

"Yes, Dee Dee, you're just about the most awful person I know."

She was gasping and crying. She was anguished. She asked "Could you still love me anyway?"

I said "Only till the end of time."

That may have been the right thing to say. She flung herself on me, her head buried into my shoulder, her arms around my neck, crying inconsolably. 

Men are dogs. This is not a theory, but accepted dogma among the cognoscenti. This poor girl was pouring her heart out to me. She was crying her eyes out; obviously broken-hearted at some real or imagined injury she apparently thought she was doing me. 

Yes, I felt tugs on my heart strings to see such a pitiable sight. Yes, I wanted to hold her to my chest, pat her head, comfort her. But mostly I wanted to fuck her. I felt like a pig, but what could I do? Please refer to my 'man thinks with his dick' theorem. 

Is there anything sexier in the world than a gorgeous naked woman, crying her eyes out, needing to be comforted the old fashioned way? And I was just the guy to do the comforting.

I reached to the night stand, grabbed some tissues and started to dry her eyes. I let her blow her nose a few times and then just held her. Slowly her sobbing stopped. She seemed to take a deep breath and slowly release it. I felt her go almost limp in my arms.

That's when I turned up her chin and deeply kissed her. The way I figured it was, for some reason she didn't want me to know how she felt about me. There was some deep dark secret lurking there, but I could worry about that later. 

The fact is I tortured the truth out of her. It was easy. I'm thinking of volunteering my services to work for the army. I could be the official interrogator of all female prisoners. I'd make 'em talk.

But the truth is out. She admitted it to me again. She loves me. My theory here is: she is ready to fuck. She really wants to be fucked. Because now she can be fucked by the man she loves and who loves her, and now both of us know it. That's got to count for something, right?

I know I wanted to fuck her and for the very same reason. It's like sealing a compact. It's that signature on the dotted line that changes you from fuck-buddies to soul mates. It's the moment in time when both people start thinking about forever.

I took hold of myself and began to rub the head along Deirdre's pussy lips. She was wet already. I bet her crying made her horny too. She was just so vulnerable. 

I didn't want to take advantage of her. I just wanted to take her.

I had her on her back, rubbing her with the head of my dick. I pushed the head between her lips and it slid in easily. It knew where it belonged. It kept going, moving slowly into her until it totally bottomed out. And there it stayed. 

Our eyes met, and I saw the look in her eyes. It looked like adoration. I know that look. I had the same look in my eyes. 

I whispered "I love you, Deirdre".

She said, "I love you too Andrew. You are my heart."

We slowly began to move, our hips achieving a lazy rhythm. I was moving only a few inches back and forth within her. We were loving each other. 

I tenderly kissed her while continuing our slow romantic lovemaking. My hands roamed her body. They just wanted to touch that soft, soft skin. They just wanted to fondle those small round breasts. They wanted to feel her ass cheeks; grab them; pull her tighter to me. 

She began to moan and hump. The romantic moment was building toward a sexual release. I rolled to my back, puller her on top of me, still impaled on my cock. 

She hugged me, her head on my chest. Then she sat straight up, looking down at me, and suddenly her tears were a memory. That smile, the one that ignites her eyes, was suddenly shining like a light above me. 

She said, "Oh, you're finally going to let me be in charge, you male chauvinist pig?"

I shook my head. "I may be naïve, but I'm not stupid. You've been in charge since the moment you walked into my life."

Her smile actually broadened. My God, she has a dimple! She leaned down and playfully kissed me, her tits rubbing lightly back and forth across my chest. 

Deirdre held that position, our pubic bones frozen together. Suddenly my dick was being massaged by Deirdre's pussy. It was being squeezed, rubbed, toyed with. 

I moaned, "Christ, Dee Dee!"

She smugly said, "You see? I'm not without talent."

She leaned forward, gave me a mind-boggling open mouthed kiss, then leaned back and started riding.

She said "Hold still, Andrew. Let me do this myself."

Her hips were grinding. She would lean forward, allowing a few inches of my dick to leave her pussy, then push backward, making those same few inches slide their way home. 

At first it was a lazy ride. But then she started feeling it. Her eyes never left mine, but her body was in constant motion. Her slow grind gradually sped up. Her backward motion became jerky. She started to throw her hips into it. She was fucking me with power, grunting with the force of her strokes. 

I realized she had achieved total role reversal as she was fucking my brains out and all I could do was lay there and take it. But I couldn't take it any more. She was riding and squeezing, squeezing and riding. I pushed back with as much force as I could muster and my passion exploded into her womb.

It was the push she needed as she arched her back, ground her pussy unmercifully against my dick and screamed her release.

We lay quietly for a long time afterwards in the glow of being in love. She was still on top of me; her head was lying on my chest. It felt good.

It was time that I learned what was bothering Deirdre. Whatever it was that was causing her such anguish, I had to address it. What kind of a lover am I if I can't ease her pain?

I held her as we talked. "Dee Dee. What is it that's bothering you? If there's some sort of problem, maybe I can help."

She just shook her head.

"What is it, Deirdre? Do you have a problem? Are you sick?"

She sadly smiled and shook her head again.

"You can't have babies, is that it?"

She sat up like a shot. "Babies! You never said anything about babies!"

I felt I was on shaky ground, here. She sounded angry. I wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that I had never said anything about babies. I didn't want to start her on another crying bender, so I tried to remain calm. 

I kept my voice soft and reasonable. "Sweetie, how could I talk about babies when you wouldn't talk about next Friday?"

She seemed to be somewhere else for a second. I saw a tear in her eye. She stood and held out her hand to me.

"Thank you for another lovely evening, Andrew. We better call it a night."

How could something that was going so well turn so wrong. I had to ask her. 

"Deirdre, are you angry with me? Did I say the wrong thing?"

She smiled and put her arms around me, hugging her head into my chest. "No, Andrew, you always say the right thing for me. We'll talk about this tomorrow night, maybe. I know you must be upset with me for not opening up, but it's not my choice to make. I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know as soon as I can."

What do you say to that? I wasn't going to get any answers tonight. My only option was to leave and hope for the best.

Friday at work was much like Thursday. We were plowing through the information now. We had a direction we were headed and everything was falling into place. I was glad for Deirdre, since obviously her performance is essentially evaluated with every job she does. She's good. She's really good. She seems to love her job. 

I was as into the process as she was on Friday, but I couldn't help thinking about the things we had said the night before, especially the part about babies. How was I to interpret that? We had been having unprotected sex. This was Deirdre. I certainly had no concerns about disease. And she had assured me on Wednesday that there was no chance of pregnancy, so I didn't have to bother with condoms.

Is she on the pill? A woman who never has sex on the pill? I wouldn't think so. Maybe my second guess was right. Maybe she is sterile. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Sure, I want kids, but we could adopt if it came to that. I'm for ZPG anyway.

It's better that I not try to guess. My theory is I'm only making trouble for myself by trying to decide what particular stick is up Deirdre's lovely little butt. She'll tell me when she tells me. I'll deal with it or I won't deal with it. 

Actually, I'm not really worried. Mostly I'm concerned about she and I being together. I couldn't think of anything that could possibly change that. 

Deirdre remained her lovely, sweet-tempered self during the day. She was all business, as usual. But her words, her attitude, were all filtered through this relaxed happy demeanor. I just love to be around her. 

As we were preparing to leave at 5:20, I asked her what I had wanted to ask her all day.

"Shall I see you this evening, Deirdre?" I guess my anxiety showed. 

She took my hand. "Of course, Andrew; we've got to sort this out. I think tonight we'll try to do it, if that's okay with you. Pick me up in my room at about 7 tonight, okay? We'll have some dinner, then talk. Maybe I'll have a surprise for you."

I said, "No, thanks. I've had all the surprises I can handle in one lifetime. See you at 7."

I went home and changed, turned around and came back into the city. It was one of those things, you know. I hit every green light on the way out and every green light on the way back. I drove the speed limit, took my time, and arrived twenty minutes early.

Rather than sit and wait, I went straight up to her room. I'd rather be with her than waiting for her anytime.

When I knocked on her room it was 6:45. I was feeling fine, none of the pent-up arousal that had made me crazy the previous two evenings. I think my body had finally gotten the signal that Deirdre was going to be around for a little while and I didn't need to rape her every time I saw her. That's a theory I'm working on. 

Standing in the hallway of that hotel, I was fine; calm, collected, fine. The door cracked open and she was there. She stood with the door partially opened, wearing a silken robe. Suddenly my hormones went crazy. My dick was suddenly engulfed with the flood of blood that roared into it. I felt a rush and was suddenly dizzy and passionately aroused. 

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me and took her in my arms before she could respond.

She had a startled confused look on her face. She looked scared. I covered her mouth with mine. 

We were kissing, a kiss of frenzy. My hands were working, untying things, and suddenly she was disrobed. I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on top of the spread.

I stepped back and began to remove my clothes, my eyes never leaving hers. I saw her watching me undress. She made little motions with her head, shaking it back and forth in slow little jerks. I heard her whisper "No…"

Her head may have been whispering 'no', but her body was screaming 'yes'. Her nipples were fully extended, and I could see that there was already moisture between her legs.

I spent as much time worrying about it as it took for me to remove the last of my clothes. I scrambled onto the bed, and I was with her.

She acted like she wanted to move but couldn't. I wasn't in a position to ponder her reluctance. I needed her worse than I had the first time we did this. 

I rubbed my dick along her slit to pick up some wetness, and then slammed into her. She screamed. Her arms suddenly grabbed my ass, pulling me into her, her fingernails clawing me. 

She felt different somehow. I was crazed with arousal. How could this woman do this to me? It was if the previous hard fuckings had 'worn off' and I had to reclaim my stake on her. 

We were fucking like animals. My dick felt like an irresistible force. I hammered into her, but she gave as good as she got. I heard her scream her way through another orgasm. It didn't stop me. It didn't slow me down. I had to fill her with my seed. I had to claim her for my own. I was roaring my desire, my love, my need to own her. 

I felt my climax building. My lips were on hers, demanding and receiving her passionate response. My dick expanded and filled with sperm. I was cumming and she was screaming again. I thought our passion would never end.

And then it was over. We both collapsed from our release. I took her in my arms to hold her. 

Her head was moving back and forth. I heard her whisper "She said death by fucking."

Suddenly she was crying. It was like yesterday. She turned away from me, forcing her face into the pillow. She was bawling her eyes out. She was mumbling but her voice got louder till I finally could make out the words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to do it. I'm such an awful person. I'm horrible."

Her breathing became labored as she was talking and crying at the same time, her breath coming in gasps. 

I took her into my arms and said "Don't worry baby. I love you."

She cried louder. "How can you love me when you don't even know me?"

I kissed her eyelids. "I've known you since the beginning of time. I've loved you forever."

She opened her eyes and looked longingly into mine, still sobbing. She said "She said you were wonderful!" And she kept crying.

Who said I was wonderful. Carol? I always thought my secretary thought I was an arrogant little snot. I am an arrogant little snot.

All men are pigs, me in particular. I was learning that a crying woman was a sure way to make an aroused man. My dick was recovering again. With no more stimulation than a crying, beautiful, sexy, nude woman, it sprang back to life. 

I had to be in her while I comforted her. It was an irrepressible need. I took hold of my manhood, found her nether lips, and slid into her again.

Her eyes flew wide. She said, "Oh my God! No, not again! Oh God! I think you should stop. Maybe you shouldn't do this. Oh God!"

Her eyes closed and again her arms were pulling me into her. 

Suddenly I heard a voice from behind us. It said "At least you could have waited until you were introduced!"

I turned and there was Deirdre standing in the doorway of the bathroom, naked except for a towel wrapped around her wet hair. 

I went into sensual overload.

"Damn, there's fucking two of you. I fucking knew it!!"

 

Donnie's Story

 

Dee Dee called me on Monday night. My sister had a new assignment in Cleveland, at a division of some company headquartered in Akron. We both work for the same company. We both do the same kind of work. We make the same salary. We own a house together. We've been together forever and it will remain that way, forever.

We're not just sisters. We're twins; identical twins. We're identical in every way. When we grew up no one could tell us apart. Momma used to dress us in identical clothes, so everyone knew they couldn't tell us apart. When we got old enough to know better, we insisted on separate wardrobes for each of us. That way people could tell us apart.

Well, that way people could think they could tell us apart. We regularly wore each other's clothes and pretended to be the other sister. It always worked, because we are truly identical. But now people thought they knew which one we were because of our wardrobe. Mine leaned towards pants and dresses. Dee Dee wore skirts with tops. 

Except when Dee Dee wanted to be me or I wanted to be her for a day. Then we would dress in each other's clothes, go to each other's classes, date each other's boyfriends. No one caught on. Not ever.

Momma couldn't tell us apart. We never mentioned that we wore each other's clothes, and she never asked, though I think she may have suspected. No one else ever suspected. Daddy was helpless, he called both of us "D". "Hey D. Come give your Daddy a hug" he'd say. He never had a clue which one he was hugging.

I'm Donna, but my family calls me Donnie. My family has this odd thing about it. It's hereditary, I suppose. It must be something in the genes. If it's not in the genes, then it's something from the Twilight Zone. Because in our family, we only have girls. We only have twin girls.

Momma is a twin. Her twin was killed when she was only five years old, hit by a car while riding a tricycle. She admits that all the time, everyday, she feels that something is missing. She knows what it is. It's her sister.

Momma's momma was also a twin. And her momma before her. It's hard sometimes to trace our family tree back very far, because sometimes people kind of hid what was happening in our family. Besides which, we have no single family name to trace. We have maternal bloodlines in a patriarchal society. 

Our family tradition is that the girls stay together, even after marriage. We have to. We wouldn't be complete without our sisters. I can't explain it any other way. 

Dee Dee told me Monday that she was working with a very handsome young man. She said he was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. I could tell that she was infatuated with him.

Tuesday night Dee Dee told me she was starting to be obsessed with him. He was so hot she could hardly stand it. She said that he kept exhibiting the gallant reaction. That's what we called it back in high school when some boy got hard in class. Neither of us have much of a sex life anymore. When we accepted our positions with the company we knew that our social life was going to come to a halt. 

Well our social calendar wasn't that full to begin with. We are thirty-five years old and I think we can now officially refer to ourselves as 'spinsters'. We are realistic about our prospects. The biological clock is winding down. Maybe our particular branch of the twin family tree is about to end.




Death By Fucking Ch. 04



Dee Dee asked if I would mind if she took him to bed. We do this. We talk about our prospective sex partners. We have to. We share everything and eventually if things get far enough along, we may have to share even that. 

What is the likelihood of both of us finding husbands at our age? No, we've pretty much decided that if one of us finds a man, he will have to take care of both of us. I know that sounds odd, perhaps even perverted. We aren't. I mean perverted. Dee Dee and I love each other like the closest sisters you ever knew, but that's as far as that goes. Any sharing we do of any real or imagined man we might eventually end up with will be male-female only, if you know what I mean.

She wants to seduce this young man. Well I'm okay with that. I'm even a bit jealous of her good fortune. But my jealousy is ridiculous in light of the fact that her good fortune will eventually lead to my own good fortune.

She called me Wednesday night at midnight. She doesn't usually call that late and I was getting tired. But I knew she would call so I waited, watching Letterman. 

I picked up the phone and before I could even say hello she said "Donnie, he was wonderful! I thought he was gong to kill me. Death by fucking: that's all I could think about as I lay there afterwards, almost in a coma."

I was shocked. I was excited. I don't remember hearing Dee Dee use that kind of language before. This guy must be great. I needed to know the details.

"Donnie, we made love twice. Nothing in four years, then twice in one evening! And Donnie! Not only that, he also, uh, you know..."

I didn't, uh, know. I'm as sexually innocent as she is. "What did he do, Dee Dee? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"He put his mouth, you know, down there!"

"Oh my God! Did you like it? Was it good? Or was it awful?"

"It was wonderful. We looked into each others eyes the whole time he did it. And he did it forever. It was like he was doing his favorite thing in the world. The only reason he stopped is because I made him stop. Otherwise I think I'd still be lying there with his tongue in me."

I shuddered at the image. "Oooh that's gross!" I said. But I knew it wasn't gross. I was wet just imagining it. 

She said, "Don't knock it until you've tried it. I'm thinking about becoming an addict. Donnie, I think I've fallen in love with him. You've got to help me!"

"You want me to stop you from falling in love with him" I asked facetiously?

"You've got to come up here. I need you now." She sounded like she had it bad. "He doesn't know about us. I told him I have a sister, but that's about it. He doesn't know about us, about how we live, how we need to live."

I said "You know you can't be getting serious about him before you tell him the truth. But I don't know if I can come. You know this project I'm working on is important. Call me tomorrow night. If you are still desperate, I'll see if I can take Friday afternoon off and fly to Cleveland. But I'm not sure I can. They need me here in Indianapolis." 

"Donnie you have to. You have to meet him. He's amazing."

Yes. I'll believe it when I see it. I've pretty much given up hope of any kind of romantic future for myself. 

"Oh, Donnie. Did I tell you? He's twenty-five years old!"

Oh my God! "Twenty-five? Are you out of your mind? What does a twenty-something stud want with an old hag like you?"

"I know, I know! I haven't a clue what he sees in me. But he finds me irresistible. He told me it's a chemical reaction or something and we're not capable of fighting how we feel. I think he's funny; he always has these odd little theories to explain things in life. The 'chemical reaction' thing is how he explained 'us'. Maybe it wasn't 'chemical reaction'. Maybe it was 'chemical attraction'. I don't remember."

"But Donnie, what if he's right? Had you thought of that?"

"Thought of what, Dee Dee? Why does it matter if his little pet theory about why you two are an item is right or not?"

She was excited. She said "Well you and I have the same chemistry, don't we? We're clones or something, aren't we? Doesn't it stand to reason if he is chemically attracted to me he would be chemically attracted to you and vice versa?"

I felt a chill run down my spine. I was already soaked 'down there' from her talk of oral stimulation. Now I knew I was just going to have to take care of myself as soon as we got off the phone.

I couldn't wait to meet him. But when I spoke to Dee Dee, I tried to sound reluctant.

"I don't know, Dee Dee. Maybe I can make it down on Friday, maybe not." 

She wasn't buying my act. "Don't try to fool me baby sister. I know you're almost as excited about him as I am, and you haven't even met him."

I hate it when she calls me baby sister. It's always when she's trying to prove that she's right and I'm wrong. I'm only her baby sister by forty-five minutes. That doesn't exactly give her seniority.

Thursday night she called again. She was in tears. I could hear it in her voice.

"What is it, honey?" I asked. Oh no, the 'item' must have fallen apart.

Instead she said "I'm sorry, Donnie. I couldn't help it. He tortured it out of me."

I said "Tortured you? He tortured you? What is he some kind of sicko? What did he torture out of you?"

Now she was mad at me. "Don't you dare call Andrew sick! I don't ever want to hear you talk about him like that again!"

I told her to calm down. "Didn't you just tell me he tortured you? What was I supposed to think?"

She said "You don't understand. He tortured me with his tongue."

I didn't understand. "He tortured you with his tongue? What's that about?"

She must have thought I was being oblique. "He tortured me with his TONGUE!! You know. Down there. He did it to me and wouldn't stop until I talked."

My first reaction was "Why in the world would you want him to stop?"

She said "You are a complete ninny! He wouldn't let me climax. He made me crazy with lust and just kept pouring it on. He wouldn't let me climax. I couldn't stand it. I would have done anything he wanted."

My mouth was dry. I wasn't surprised. All the moisture in my body seems to have gone to between my legs. I had to ask. "What did he want?"

"He wanted me to tell him how I felt about him. I tried to hold out. I did. I held out for at least several minutes. It seemed like forever. A lesser woman would have caved in instantly. I'll bet you would have talked immediately."

I wasn't prepared to discuss how long I could maintain my silence while being tortured by Andrew Adkins' tongue. I certainly intended to think about it more as soon as we got off the phone.

"What did you say to him?"

She was resigned to admitting her failure. "I told him I love him. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. He tortured it out of me."

"You could have told him you didn't love him. Had you thought of that?" I was a little exasperated. She was putting the cart in front of the horse.

"No I couldn't tell him I don't love him. I could never lie to him about something like that. I love him down to my soul. I could never say anything to hurt him like that. Donnie, you've got to come tomorrow. Please come. I need you now."

Wild horses couldn't have kept me away. Still I had to sound reluctant. I told her "I'll ask for the afternoon off tomorrow. It's short order cooking, if you know what I mean. They may have plans for me. If I can I'll come, okay?"

"Okay. I'm at the Hyatt Regency, room 713. Just come to the front desk and ask for your key. They'll give it to you."

I said "Honey, I've been your sister for thirty-five years. I know the drill."

Of course I fully intended to fly to Cleveland on Friday afternoon. I needed to meet this paragon of manhood who had so infatuated my sister. He's infatuated me, too. Two nights in a row I've had to get myself off after talking to Dee Dee on the phone. He sounds so sexy. I can't wait to be able to attach a face to that name: Andrew Adkins.

I caught a commuter flight to Cleveland with no problem. By five o'clock I was at the hotel and sat watching the news while I waited for Deirdre. She was so excited to see me! 

"Thank God you're here. I was so worried that you couldn't come. I can't wait much longer, Donnie. This is getting out of control."

I tried to act calmly, but her excitement was contagious. "How are we going to do this? Are we seeing this boy tonight?"

She nodded her head. "He'll be here at 7. We've got to get ready! I thought we'd break the news to him here in the hotel. At least I thought we would break the news that you and I are twins. That will be an ice breaker, then we can have dinner and you two can get to know each other. If things feel right, we can tell him more as we go along. We'll have to play it by ear."

I was skeptical. "This is going to be a long, embarrassing night for all of us. How do you think this Andrew is going to feel about all of this?"

"Donnie, I just don't know. He's SO passionate. He has more passion in his little finger than any other man I've ever met had in his whole body. He finds me irresistible, you know. If you're very lucky, maybe he'll find you irresistible too. If he does, we'll either make him the happiest man in the world, or drive him totally crazy."

Those were two extreme options. My personal feeling was that he will take one look at the two of us and run like hell. 

We were running late and I was a mess from having worked and then traveled half the day. I took first turn in the bathroom. I showered and then slipped on a robe to put on my makeup. 

When I came out of the bathroom, Dee Dee went right in behind me to take her shower. No sooner had she turned on the shower than I heard a knock on the door. It was 6:45. He couldn't be here already, could he? My God, I was practically naked here. At least I had my makeup on. My whole insides turned to mush. My knees could barely hold my weight. I could feel the wetness starting within me, just at the possibility that it might be him. What could I do? I opened the door.

It was him! My God. He was gorgeous! Dee Dee didn't tell me he was this gorgeous. His eyes! I looked into his eyes and I realized they were seeing my soul. I gasped at the feelings that were boiling within me. I didn't have a chance to say hello. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself.

He stepped into the room and I don't know what happened. I was in his arms. He was kissing me! His lips were magic. I was on fire. I tried to stop him. Suddenly I was standing in the arms of this total stranger and I had no clothes on. Somehow my robe had disappeared. I was picked up like a feather by these strong long arms and carried to the bed. I lay on the bed, trying to tell him to stop, but the words kept ending just before they reached my lips. I know I was shaking my head. I know I was trying to stop him. 

He was undressing. My God! His body is perfect: slender strong muscles; flat stomach; large chest; just enough hair on that beautiful chest to have fun with. My eyes went to where I had been trying to avoid. I looked at his penis. Could he fit that huge angry thing into little me? I kept trying to tell him. I wanted him to stop, kind of. He didn't want to stop.

And then he was there. I was back in his arms. I felt this monstrous intrusion at my pussy lips. I thought I was going to swoon. He pushed in. He was so big! He started to take me, hard. I couldn't help it. I wanted him so badly. I didn't know him and I loved him. It doesn't make sense, but we are identical. How could Dee Dee love him without me loving him? 

I had been dreaming of this moment since Wednesday night. By the time that huge member had settled totally within me, I had my first climax. It was like he didn't even notice. He powered through that first climax of mine and I was already approaching a second. I've never felt anything like it. I was screaming. I hadn't screamed since I was 12. We saw "Alien" in a movie theatre and we both scared half the patrons with this blood curdling scream we let out when the monster jumped on one of his victims. 

But it wasn't that kind of scream. It was a scream of total passion released. Each time I released my passion with a scream, Andrew forced me to confront more passion. Nothing seemed to stop his relentless quest to bring me pleasure.

He was taking me like he owned me. He was taking me like he had to own me. I was giving myself to him freely. I wanted him to own me. 

Finally, after an eternity of ecstasy, I felt him swell within me and suddenly I was being filled with his seed. It was too much! I climaxed again, with such force that I thought I would die of the passion. 

As I lay there trying to return to earth, I remembered what Dee Dee had told me on Wednesday night. The words just came to my lips. "She said death by fucking."

Andrew held me in our post-coital bliss, but my conscience wouldn't let me rest. I realized what an awful harlot I had been. I had never spoken a word to this man and already had given myself to him, and under false pretenses. He didn't know it wasn't Dee Dee. I'm the only one who knew that what we had done was wrong.

I began to cry. I couldn't help it. I was so embarrassed; so ashamed. I had tricked him! How could he love me when I wasn't even honest with him? How could Dee Dee love a sister who could have sex with her boyfriend without a second thought? I'm just awful.

Andrew was so wonderful. He held me, comforted me. He told me he loved me. I tried to explain that he didn't even know me. But it didn't matter to him. He told me he had loved me forever. That we knew each other since time began. He's a poet of love. I melted in his arms.

He was hard again! The man's passion knows no bounds! He was sliding in me and I couldn't help it. I was suddenly so horny! I started to climax again on his first stroke.

Then I heard her. "At least you could have waited until you were introduced." Dee Dee was standing in the bathroom door watching us. 

My eyes closed in shame and humiliation. I thought I was going to die.

 

My Two Sluts – Andrew's Story

I was caught in the act! Here I thought I was lying in bed with Dee Dee, my dick firmly implanted in her pussy, when suddenly there Dee Dee was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. My dick began to shrink like it had sprung a leak. 

I looked at her again. She was standing there with an indecipherable expression on her face. Good lord, she was standing there in just a towel. And the towel was around her hair! What could I say? Her body was fabulous, soft, small round mounds at all the right places, soft white skin. She was beautiful. I had to tell her.

"My God, Dee Dee. You look hot! I can't believe how gorgeous you are!" 

Even under the circumstances, I guess I should have been apologizing profusely for screwing around on her, or mad as hell for whatever subterfuge had been perpetrated on me. I could tell she wasn't exactly upset with me. Maybe it's flattering to be ogled by a man who is screwing another woman. Come to think of it, it can't be that flattering to a woman being screwed while her partner is being turned on by someone else.

My dick, which had been in the process of deflating, made a U turn and shot right back up again. The person I was in appeared to feel it too, because all of a sudden I heard her moan. And suddenly she was over the top. She screamed out her orgasm, working her hips on my engorged dick. 

What do you say at a time like this? Some woman I didn't even know was cumming on my dick while my beautiful sexy girlfriend watched! I couldn't help but see the humor in the situation.

When this lovely thing I was lying on finally came to her senses, her eyes shot open and she looked like a deer in the headlights. 

I said, "I assume you are Donnie. How do you do? My name is Drew."

She eyes opened even wider. "Drew?" she said. "Your name is Drew?" I could see the panic in her eyes. I remembered that Deirdre called me Andrew. Maybe this woman thought she had fucked a totally innocent bystander.

Dee Dee also caught the implications of Donnie's question. "This is Andrew Adkins, Donnie. You fucked the right man." 

I could see the panic leave Donnie's eyes, but then I could see that she was starting to tear up again. 

I couldn't help it. I started to laugh. I suddenly realized that this was the funniest thing that had ever happened to me. I was still hard. I was inside the womb of this almost total stranger, with my girlfriend standing there. It was so funny.

I think Dee Dee thought it was pretty funny too, cause I saw the smile on her face, the light in her eyes. She didn't appear to be jealous.

Donnie looked hurt. She asked me "What are you laughing at?"

I was starting to lose control I was laughing so hard. I finally calmed down enough to tell her.

"We may have set some kind of record here, you know. Does Guinness keep track of such things? Damn, we weren't even introduced. I didn't even know you existed. What's the all time record for making it like that? "

"Donnie, I hope you don't mind. I'm not a male chauvinist pig, at least not much of one. But this is too good! How could I not brag about this? This is a story that nobody will be able to top. I'm my own hero!"

"We have the world speed record for meeting for the first time and making it into bed. Zero to fucking in under two minutes."

Dee Dee had long since caught on to my little flights of fancy. She said "Maybe you better qualify that: Fastest fuck from a standing start, amateur division."

I was laughing even more. I didn't want to hurt Donnie's feelings, but this was just so funny! Then I realized that maybe Donnie was catching on to the atmosphere that had developed in the room.

She said innocently "But don't professionals have to negotiate a price?"

I laughed. "You're right: Fastest fuck from a standing start, open division, no prior arrangements. You've got to account for swingers whose idea of changing partners is moving their dicks to the next person in line."

I couldn't' help it. My dick was still hard, and the more I laughed, the more it moved around in Donnie. I had to kid her. I didn't even know her, but I felt like I had known her forever.

I told her. "Donnie, you could have your own wing in the sexual perversion hall of fame: First Contact to orgasm in under two minutes. You broke the two minute limit. I wonder who's in second place."

I was laughing, but I was hard. The movement of my laughter was really starting to get to me. I could see it was really starting to get to Donnie, too. I looked at Dee Dee and I could tell she saw what was going on. I said to her, "Look, Dee Dee. We have to talk. But first, if you don't mind…"

I rammed into Donnie. Her lust overcame her shame. It overcame her reticence. It overcame her. She enthusiastically returned my thrusts. 

And suddenly lust overcame me. I think it had to do with the fact that I now knew that this wasn't Dee Dee. My body wanted to claim her again, this time under no false pretenses. 

We fucked; hard sharp lust-filled strokes permeated the hotel room. The situation was so erotic. I don't know what made me do it. I needed to plant my seed in this woman I didn't know, because I needed to know her forever. A week ago I wasn't interested in any woman, and now I couldn't get enough of either of these beautiful girls.

I drove into Donnie, over and over. Sporadically she screamed. Then with one final scream from her we both went over the edge and I ejaculated deep within her womb. 

Donnie just lay there mumbling "Oh my God. Oh my God!"

Dee Dee finally came over and sat on the bed. She was still naked and I couldn't help but look at her, drink in her beauty. We had spent a lot of time fucking, but I had had very little time to just look at her. She is so beautiful. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 05



Andrew’s Story

Donnie and Dee Dee made me lie on the bed and watch a little TV while they prepared for dinner. Donnie insisted on taking another shower, though I didn’t for the life of me know why. 

Come to think of it, she insisted that I take a shower too; not together though. I wanted to get in with her, but she wanted to reset to zero with our relationship and act like we hadn’t just fucked each other’s brains out. I’ll never understand women.

There is something tremendously domestic about watching a woman getting ready to go out; fussing with her hair, fixing her makeup, all those things women do to make themselves presentable. I found out something about myself. I like to watch. I felt domesticated. I felt horny.

I personally thought that these girls were totally presentable when they were totally nude. But what do I know? By the time the ladies were finally ready, I wanted to stay in the hotel room. 

I had taken my shower, thrown on my clothes (slightly the worse for wear), and I was ready. I didn’t have to fix my makeup or my hair. 

All of a sudden I had two absolutely gorgeous women ready to go to dinner. It was very odd, because they were dressed exactly the same. Their clothes, their hair, their shoes, everything was identical. 

I was uncomfortable about something so I thought I would bring it out right then.

“Donnie, Dee Dee, can I ask you both something?”

Both of them looked up and nodded their heads in unison. This was getting weird.

“First, do you mind if I refer to you as girls? I never call a woman a girl at the office. I know it’s a sexist form of address. But when we get personal, I just feel more comfortable referring to you two as girls rather than as ladies. Just between us, I mean. Do you have a problem with that?”

They shook their heads, smiled, and said “No, Andrew.”

I said, “Do you girls always do everything in unison, or are you trying to freak me out?”

They looked at each other, turned back to me and both of them had smiles that lit up their eyes. Dee Dee has this thing. She can turn on this switch in her head that sends a light from her eyes. It’s the kind of thing that takes your breath away. Donnie has the same thing, apparently.

They said, “Maybe.”

Oh, great. Now they are going to be enigmatic. I just said, “Let’s get going while I’m still sane.”

I opened the door and out we went, me escorting the two most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I had one on each arm, and I could see the looks on the faces of people as we exited the hotel lobby and made our way to the street. The women looked shocked, the men looked envious. We drove over to the Ritz Carlton, where there is a restaurant so far out of my price range that I didn’t even know it was there until I started looking for one that might impress Dee Dee. (That’s a bit of an exaggeration. I knew it was there in an intellectual way, I just never considered it as an option before.)

The girls sat to my right and left and we shared some small talk as we placed our orders. I ordered a bottle of Mum’s Cordon Rouge, figuring the occasion called for as good a champagne as my limited experience (and budget) could come up with. 

Julia Child said that champagne is always appropriate. There is nothing like a bit of the bubbly to help people let down their defenses a little bit. The girls were no different, I guess. Neither was I.

I ordered the rack of lamb, the same thing I always order when I go to a restaurant good enough to carry it on the menu. Heck, I’m just a kid. What do I know about this kind of thing? 

Soon after we sat down I felt a small hand lightly rubbing my erection. Dee Dee knew that drove me crazy. No one said anything about it, and I certainly felt no need to point it out. It gave a whole new meaning to the term first class service.

The girls both ordered some salmon thing, crusted with pecans or some such thing. It was all strange to me, but they seemed to know exactly what they wanted. It was then I learned that they are semi-vegetarians. They will eat fish but no meat of any kind. 

I said, “Whoa! You mean you don’t even eat tacos? That’s a sacrifice beyond the call of duty.”

One said, “Andrew, you can make tacos without meat you know.”

I said, “Sure, but what’s the point?”

Our meals came and we dug in. My lamb had this mustard glaze. It was medium rare and just delicious. I had never had anything better in my young life. I reached over and touched the hand of the blonde on my right.

“Dee Dee, honey. Would you like to try a little of my lamb?”

She looked up startled and just shook her head. I turned and said, “Donnie, how about you? Rack of lamb, Donnie. Yum, Rack of lamb. What do you say, huh?”

I was playing with their heads, seeing how committed they were to this little vegetarian thing. 

Suddenly one of them said “I need to go to the powder room.” Turning to the other she asked “Want to go with me?”

With that both girls rose and walked away from me. I wondered if I had offended them with my little meat ploy. I’ve known vegetarians that were almost militantly anti-meat. But then, those were usually the vegan types, not the ones that bent enough to eat fish. Who knows what goes through the mind of a woman?

In a few minutes they returned and sat down. A few seconds later I felt a hand return to my erection. I could get used to eating dinner like this. Still I had to comment on it.

I turned to the blonde on my right. “What, is that seat the designated ‘grab Andrew’s erection seat’? You girls are too weird. I like my brother, but I would never just sit down at his half eaten meal and pick up where he left off.”

Both girls sat back and gasped. Suddenly I had two gorgeous girls rush into each arm, crying their eyes out. I had a head on each shoulder and they were bawling away, right in the middle of that four star restaurant. I didn’t know what I had said to cause this. These chicks were emotional.

I tried to calm the situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you were too weird. You’re just weird enough for me.”

Dee Dee calmed down enough to whisper “You knew!”

I didn’t have a clue what I knew. “Knew what?” I asked.

She said “You knew it was me!”

Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? I’ve had some odd experiences in my life, but this one was a pip. I asked “Who else could you be?”

She was sniffling. “I could have been Donnie.”

If they hadn’t been crying I would have thought they were playing with my head. Hell, they were dressed alike, they ordered the same meal, they switched places in the middle of dinner. They were playing something, if not with my head.

I turned to Donnie. “Donnie, honey, will you please tell me what she is talking about?”

Donnie had stopped bawling and was now successfully holding back her tears. “You can tell us apart, can’t you?”

“Of course I can tell you apart. You’re as different as night and day. Well, maybe midnight and one AM. You’re different from each other, anyway. Why shouldn’t I be able to tell you apart?”

Dee Dee said “No one can tell us apart. Momma can’t tell us apart. Daddy doesn’t have an inkling about which is which. People think we’re the same person. We’re not, Andrew. We’re different people. There are two of us. No one sees that.”

I tried comforting them. “Of course you are different people. It’s obvious. You shouldn’t be concerned what other people think of you. I think you’re both wonderful.”

I could feel Donnie stiffen in my arm. She seemed to pull away from me a little bit. I said, “Donnie, what’s the matter?”

She looked like the tears were ready to start again. She said, “Now that you know I’m not Dee Dee, how can you love me? You don’t even know me.”

I couldn’t help going for the laugh. “I know you in the biblical sense!”

That evoked a little smile and a swat on the arm. “I mean it, Andrew. Don’t be flippant about this.”

I said “I don’t know how I can love you. A week ago I didn’t love anyone. Then Dee Dee appeared like an angel and suddenly I was madly in love. I thought that every loving impulse I was capable of was fully engaged. And now you are here. And I know you’re not Dee Dee. But I can’t help it. I’m desperately in love with you, too. I just hope you can learn to feel the same way about me someday.”

Donnie leaned forward and gave me a mind-blowing, toe curling, heart stopping kiss. She sat back and said softly “Someday is today.”

I kissed her cheek and said “Thank you.”

I felt that small hand on my dick again. It squeezed it lovingly. I said, “Dee Dee, that’s a habit I’m going to have to break you of. Maybe in about thirty years.”

She smiled and said, “I’m sorry, Andrew, I couldn’t help it. You two looked so sweet and loving; I just wanted to be a part of it.”

I leaned over and gave her a short loving kiss. Her lips were every bit as soft and alluring as Donnie’s. Just different. I don’t know why. Just different.

Finally I said, “Will you two just eat your salmon and shut the hell up? My $27 rack of lamb is getting cold here.”

The girls looked at each other, stood up and changed places again. Dee Dee said, “I really have no interest in eating Donnie’s dinner, you know.”

“Well why the heck did you sit at each other’s seats?” I was baffled by this little gamesmanship that had been going on.

Donnie spoke for the two of them. “When Dee Dee came out of the bathroom tonight, you said that you knew there were two of us, even though Dee Dee had never told you that we were twins. By the way, Andrew, I hadn’t planned it but I want to thank you for tonight. That was the most wonderful sexual experience I ever had. You are amazing in bed.”

I guess I blushed a little. I said “Thanks, Donnie. I practice a lot on my own.”

Both girls laughed and hit me on each shoulder. Donnie continued her dissertation.

“Anyway, we both were surprised that you said that. Why did you say that?”

“I don’t know. When I kissed you, when I, ahem, entered you, you felt different. I didn’t know there were two of you then, I just thought Dee Dee was continuing to be her madly arousing, sensual, attractive self. She seems to be every woman. She’s a goddess. I assumed it was Dee Dee in a different persona. I don’t know; you were just different. When I saw Dee Dee coming from the bathroom, I was almost relieved. I thought I was losing my mind, I guess.”

Dee Dee said “That’s why we did this. That’s why we dressed alike. That’s why we ordered the same dinner. Well, we both like salmon. Perhaps we would have ordered the same dinner anyway. But when you offered me a bite of your lamb, you called me by name. Both of us were shocked. We went to the powder room and talked it over, then came back and sat in each other’s seats. We were testing you, Andrew. We didn’t expect you to pass. No one has ever passed that particular test before. But we were hoping.”

It was definitely time for my theory. “It’s a chemistry thing, an electricity thing, some kind of thing like that. Donnie, I have this theory. It’s a good theory, and I’m more and more convinced that it has validity.”

“We are chemical attractors. I felt it from the moment I touched Dee Dee’s hand. At least she is a chemical attractor for me. Her body chemistry, her pheromones, her something fits into my receptors.”

“What am I, do I look like Linus Pauling? I don’t know what it is. I’ve heard about physical fitness. But we physically fit. I would be hopelessly attracted to Dee Dee if she were seventy years old and had no teeth.”

‘Instead she is this soft, sexy, beautiful thing. Paul Newman would take one look at her, push Joanne Woodward aside and say ‘Honey I’m home.’”

“And you’re the same. The same, but different. You fit me too. I feel the same things in some different way. Your body chemistries are obviously identical, so you have to affect me in the same way. Perhaps it’s your life experiences that separate you. I don’t know. You’re the same but different.”

Both of their eyes were shining, and there was liquid in their gazes. Dee Dee said, “Why did you say that Paul Newman thing?”

I laughed. “What, are you fishing for compliments? You know perfectly well that you are the spitting image of Joanne Woodward only thirty years younger. Everyone must tell you that.”

Donnie said “No one tells us that. Yes, we have noticed a slight resemblance from time to time. No one else has ever noticed it before.”

I said “I’ll have to let you watch The Long Hot Summer or A New Kind Of Love. I have both on DVD. Then you will both see what you would look like as movie stars.”

Donnie asked “What is a young man like you doing with such old obscure movies? I should think you would prefer more modern films.”

What could I say? “I’ve always thought that Joanne Woodward is about the most beautiful woman in the world. And she’s one of my favorite actresses as well. I have a lot of her movies. I was watching The Three Faces of Eve just the other day. A couple of weeks ago I saw a movie on TV, I think it was called Passions. Richard Crenna (I think) was her husband and when he died she discovered he had a mistress and a son she never knew about. The mistress was beautiful, I forget who it was, Lindsey Wagner maybe, probably about 35, and Joanne was maybe 60. I didn’t care. I would have taken Joanne any day.”

I guess I got a sheepish expression on my face. “Sorry, I have a tendency to go off on tangents, don’t I? It’s even worse when I talk about Joanne Woodward. I’m crazy about her.”

The girls didn’t seem to mind. Donnie said “You can love Joanne Woodward as much as you want, Andrew. As long as you think we look like her.”

By this time we were thinking about desert. Both girls got some fruit tart kind of thing. I ordered a concoction labeled “Death by Chocolate”. It reminded me of something that Donnie had said back in the hotel room, just after we were in the throes of passion. She called it “Death by Fucking”. At the time, I knew what she felt, because I felt too. It was as if the act was so intense that we almost died in the process. Just thinking about it made my erection almost impossibly harder than it had been before. Dee Dee of course noticed, because as usual her tiny hand had been rubbing my dick through my pants. 

This is a woman who can eat her desert, carry on a conversation, look beautiful, and massage my dick all at the same time. Her talent knows no bounds.

Her eyes lit up and again I saw that beautiful dimple. “Andrew, are you experiencing some tenseness here? Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?”

I told her “At this time and in this place, there is absolutely no way that I could feel better than I do right now. At another time and in another place you could probably think of something that would, in fact, make me feel even better. But not here.”

She said “We’ll think about that later. But now we need to talk to you about some things. Do you agree, Donnie?”

Donnie agreed. “Yes, I’m convinced that we’ve got to tell Andrew everything; and right now.”

Here we were in this lovely restaurant, eating this wonderful food, knocking off our second bottle of my favorite champagne. I was with the two most beautiful women in the world (to my way of thinking, Joanne Woodward not being available), and one of them had her hand on my dick. Life was good. Yet these girls wanted to talk business. Oh well. 

“What do you need to talk to me about? Is this the deep dark secret you’ve been hiding from me, Dee Dee? I had figured it was just the fact that you and Donnie are twins. Is there more to it than that?”

Donnie nodded. “There is more than that, Andrew. Twins run in our family.”

That was interesting. “I read something about that. I heard that there are families that are more likely to have twins. It skips generations or something like that, doesn’t it?”

Dee Dee said, “We’re not like that, Andrew. We always have twins. ALWAYS! Do you get it? And we always have girls.”

I was a little confused. “I don’t remember reading about that particular syndrome in the literature. You’re telling me that every birth in your family is twin girls? That’s a little hard to believe. Do you mean like your mother is a twin. So you have an aunt who is your mother’s twin, right?”

Donnie fielded that one. “Yes, Momma is a twin, but we don’t have an aunt. Aunt Camilla was killed in an accident when she was five. Our Momma, whose name is Cassie, still feels the loss to this day. She always tells us that something is missing from her life. That’s how close we are.’

I laughed. “Donnie and Dee Dee; Cammie and Cassie; what’s your grandmother’s name, Betty?”

The girls exchanged a look. Dee Dee said to Donnie “I told you he was smart.”

“Smart? That was a joke, girls. What, was I right? You’re grandmother’s name is Betty?”

Dee Dee said “No, her name wasn’t Betty. Betty was her sister. Grandmamma’s name was Barb.”

“I get the picture. And her mother’s name was Andrea, right?”

“No, her mother’s name was Annie. Andrea was her sister.”

“Did I say you girls were too weird? Weird isn’t weird enough to describe you. So who came before Annie, then? We’re running out of alphabet here.”

Dee Dee looked like she had made a decision. She said “There were no twins before them. Annie and Andy were the first.”

My mouth was probably a little wide open by now. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that this twin thing started four generations ago? There were two, then there were four, then there were eight, and now there are sixteen? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Donnie answered that one. “No, it’s not that clean. There have been a few deaths and other extenuating circumstances along the way. There are only ten of us in the ‘D’ generation.”

“Your telling me there are ten women running around Georgia, all looking like Joanne Woodward?”

Dee Dee shook her head. “We don’t all live in Georgia (Donnie and I live in Cincinnati after all) and we don’t all look alike. We’re twins, not clones. There certainly is a family resemblance between all the girls, but we are four sets of twins and two singletons.”

“So the next generation will be the ‘E’ generation, right?” I could play along, no matter how crazy this sounds.

Dee Dee said, “Yes, the ‘E’ generation is next. What would you expect?”

I said “Anything but this. You’ve got to come up with… Wait a minute.” I pulled a pen out of my pocket and started writing on a little note pad I always carry with me. I still have a bit of the nerd in me. “That means you’ve got to come up with 56 girls names beginning with the letter ‘E’, right? It can’t be done.”

Donnie looked at Dee Dee. “He’s not as smart as you think he is. We’re growing arithmetically, not geometrically. And even then your math stinks. All things being equal, we are doubling every generation, not squaring. We only need to come up with 20 girls names that start with ‘E’.”

I rechecked my math. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I thought we were looking at some Malthusian explosion that would inundate the world in Joanne Woodwards. Not necessarily a bad thing, but there wouldn’t be any room for Paul Newman. As a favor to me, please don’t use Edith or Edna, okay? Wait a minute. Is the math that simple? Your family only gives birth once a generation?”

Donnie replied “Yes. We never have more than one set of twins per girl per generation. That’s the way it has always been and that’s the way it will remain.”

This was going way over my head. I’m just a simple little computer geek. “So you are saying that each of you will eventually give birth to twin girls, is that right?”

Dee Dee looked a little uncomfortable. “No, Andrew. It’s inevitable that some of the women of our family die young or bear no children for various reasons. Until recently we had pretty much decided that our branch of the twin family was going to end with us.”




Death By Fucking Ch. 05



I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes. “Oh. So you had decided not to have children, huh? A lot of professional women make that decision. Until recently? Wait, you mean you recently changed your mind and now you are thinking of having children again? What caused you to change?”

Both girls were obviously embarrassed. But in unison they both said “You did.”

I dropped a significant portion of my Death By Chocolate onto my lap. Fortunately Dee Dee’s hand was there to catch it.

“I did! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Dee Dee screwed up her courage. “Andrew, you’ve said things that made me think that you looked at us as having a future together. You’ve tried to make me say the same things to you. You even tortured me, you little bastard. Well I’m telling you now that you can’t have a future with only me. We are a package deal.”

I was finally getting my mind around the whole thing. “So you’re talking marriage, kids, the whole nine yards, is that it?”

Donnie answered, “We’re only saying that we want to consider it as a long term possibility. Dee Dee couldn’t even bring the subject up until she knew that I was willing. Andrew, I’m willing. You might hate the idea. I half expected you to run screaming from the restaurant and stick us with the check. But you had to know who we are, what we need. Only you can decide if you are interested in meeting our needs; or if we can fill your own.”

I might have had a bit of a shit-eating grin on my face by this time. It was more of a fantasy thing than anything else. Not the ‘two girls in one bed’ fantasy that one might expect from such a situation. It was more the fantasy of having Dee Dee and Donnie there all the time. Just to see those soft round bodies, those blue-green eyes. Hear those soft southern drawls. Damn that would be sweet. I made a semi-decision.

“Look girls. We’ve known each other for less than a week. Donnie, we’ve been together just a few hours. I want to move forward. But I want to do it sanely. I want you to get to know me. My little flights of verbal fancy might be cute the first few times. After about a hundred of them you might want to kill me.”

“I’m willing to try vegetarianism. But sometimes you just need a Big Mac! You live in Cincy, I live in Cleveland. Well, that’s not insurmountable, you know. You have these high powered jobs, flying around the mid-west, acting like big shots, firing people, having a ball. I’ve got this nice little job with a nice little company and possibly a nice little future. But I’m not married to it.”

“For quite a while I’ve been considering starting my own business, doing internet development and custom programming. When I start soliciting business (and I have lots of friends in the industry I can talk to) I could be up to speed within a few months. I’ve got all the hardware and software I need at home. It doesn’t have to be at home in Cleveland. It could be at home in Cincinnati. My only requirement is high speed internet access. I can’t live without high speed access. If you don’t have and can’t get high speed access, it’s either buy a new house or ‘see ya’.”

“I could even join you on your business trips. All the hotels have data lines in the rooms now. I can work from anywhere. I could spend a week with Dee Dee in Pittsburgh, then another week with Donnie in Wheeling. You wouldn’t have to come home in the evening to an empty hotel room.”

“Besides, the two of you probably make four or five times as much as I do. It might be nice living off of two little rich girls. Just kidding. I know there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. I pull my weight no matter where I am. But I might be able to give you each some stability, some sense of family while you are living out on the road. I guess what I’m saying is, it might work. I’d like to spend some time finding out if we are as compatible as it looks like we are.”

“Let’s be frank, girls. At some point in time I’m going to be alone with my own thoughts. Then I’ll be able to look this thing over objectively. But right now it’s kind of difficult to think logically with Dee Dee’s hand on my dick.”

Dee Dee had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, Andrew; I just wanted to be sure it still wanted us.”

“Dee Dee let me assure you. Regardless of any other issues that might arise between us, you should pardon the expression, that is not one of them. I will never tire of you that way. Never. However, let me quickly add that if you insist on checking up on me, I won’t object.”

I got that eye lighting smile again. Then she said “Donnie is only going to be here until Sunday. I don’t wish to destroy any boyish fantasies you might have been having about the two of us. But Andrew, we might be a package everywhere else, but in bed we are individuals and separate. Get it?”

I put a hurt expression on my face, at least I tried to. “Get what? I certainly don’t know what you are talking about! I would never think of such a thing. Really. Uh, you’re absolutely sure about this are you?”

Donnie nodded. “Certain as can be, Andrew. Sorry, we’re too old fashioned and straight for anything other than ordinary boring one-on-one interaction, if you know what I mean”. 

I said, “I know what you mean about the one-on-one part. It’s the boring and ordinary part I’m having a hard time with.”

Dee Dee said to Donnie “See I told you he always says the right thing. He is a world class bullshitter. Andrew, what I’m getting at is, are you done with us for the night, or would you like some company after dinner?”

“Dee Dee you’ve been torturing me for the last hour and a half. And you think I’m a little bastard? I only tortured you for a few minutes. And as I remember it, when you agreed to my terms I rewarded you with your heart’s desire. Well at least I finished you off. If you think I’m going to walk away from you now, you’re nuts.”

“Well then, why don’t you drop me off back at the Hyatt. Then you can take Donnie home to your place. I’ll bet she would like to be put through a little torture of her own. And you’re just the man to do it to her.”

Donnie was turning red. “Will you shut up? I don’t have the foggiest notion of what you are talking about, I’m sure. But I would love to see where you live, Andrew. Regardless of what the wicked witch of the South has to say.”

“Meeow! You girls are going to be fun to be around, I can tell. Let’s get out of here!”



Death By Fucking Ch. 06



Chapter 6: One of Us

Donnie's Story

Dee Dee and I broke some of the news to Andrew tonight. We told him the short-term important stuff anyway. It was all he really needed to know to make a decision about us. Dee Dee and I have been debating about the rest. She hardly believes it herself and sees no reason to involve Andrew yet. 

But I believe it. And Andrew has to know sometime. But I'll respect her point of view and keep quiet for the present, I suppose.

We dropped Dee Dee off at the Hyatt. She gave Andrew a deliciously demonstrative kiss before she left. Neither of us is jealous of the other, really. But Andrew might derive some benefit from the mild sibling rivalry that is bound to arise out of our sharing the same man. 

We love each other, Dee Dee and I. But who can tell what goes on inside the head of a man, if anything? After all, if he can really tell us apart, won't he also have an opinion of which one he likes better? Dee Dee has a head start, but I want it to be me. I am such a bitch!

As Andrew drove us to his apartment, we made small talk. Frankly, I don't remember much of what we said. At dinner I had used the pretense that I would love to see his apartment, but truthfully I didn't care one iota what his apartment was like. I was desperate to finish off what we had started earlier in the evening when Dee Dee interrupted us. 

Yes, after the three of us had talked, been introduced, made jokes about the situation ad naseum, Andrew and I finished each other off with a 'quickie'. Even that was more sex than I had had in four years. 

But that first encounter, the inadvertent one, when Andrew had stripped me naked, swept me off of my feet, and then took me like the dominating male animal that he is: oh my God! It was transcendental.

I do not succumb to the 'I'm going to take it and you're going to like it' type of man. With them it is ego, not sex. It's a power trip to know that they can dominate another person, and I'm not in to other people's power trips. The female in that coupling is merely a convenient orifice for the male's member. Any available orifice would do.

Andrew wasn't like that at all. With him it wasn't about power, it was about need. He needed me. No other woman in the world would have been capable of filling that need. Just me. Well, maybe Dee Dee. 

But he knows the difference. He's the only person in the world that knows the difference. And he still needed me. No one had ever come close to needing me like that. It's seductive; powerfully erotically seductive. You are the center of that person's universe. 

As you realize the incredible need in Andrew, suddenly your need is as great as his. I needed him. I needed him to take me, own me, plant his seed in me. What does that mean? Is it me or is it genetics? That's the question that has been bothering me all night. 

I don't believe the man knows what is inside himself. I can give him support and guidance. He's different, is our Andrew. He's not like other men I have known. His ego is fragile and he considers himself to be just a boy. But he is so much more than that. I can show him that. We can show him that. And we will.

Andrew lives in a vanilla garden apartment complex in the Cleveland suburbs. We walked into his apartment and I saw that it was exactly what I expected: a no frills, functional living machine. 

Andrew looked a little embarrassed as he showed me around. We sat down on his very functional but plan sofa in his functional but plain living room. His concession to establishing his identity in the room was the wall of computer equipment: servers, monitors, wires connecting everything. One had to know a computer geek lived here.

"Sorry Donnie, if this isn't very impressive. I'm just not into things. I get what I need and use them as necessary, but I don't care about objects. That's one of the reasons I haven't been that successful with women."

My eyebrow went up at that. "Oh? You seem to be quite successful with every woman I've ever seen you with."

He smiled a little. "You and Dee Dee are different and you know it. By my standards you are rich. You must have all the toys you want already. You can afford them so you must have them, at least if you want them. You don't need me to provide you with material goods. At least I hope you don't, because if you do you've got the wrong man."

I said, "Explain yourself young man."

"Donnie, I'm twenty-five years old. To you that may be awfully young, but in my profession if I really wanted to make something of myself, I would have been well on my way to my first million by now. But I don't. I don't really want to make something of myself. Do you understand that?"

"What do you want then, Andrew?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I don't want what other people want. I don't want to keep score. I don't want to compare my wealth with other people's wealth, my toys with other people's toys. I saw a bumper sticker that read 'The one who dies with the most toys wins.' I don't want to win. I don't want to play."

This boy's spirit is as beautiful as his body, as his face. He's one of us. I'm starting to be sure of it. 

"Donnie let's get our cards on the table here. I haven't spoken to Dee Dee about this, because until tonight I wasn't even sure if she was interested in me beyond next Friday. Why muddy the waters with true confessions? Next week we might have said to each other 'live long and prosper' and then just walked away. For that kind of relationship she knew all she needed to know about me."

"I have no ambition. There. Now you know. You two ladies are at the top of your profession. I'll never be at the top of mine. I don't care about my profession that way. I do it because it's fun and it puts food on the table. But that's all it means to me."

"Andrew I thought you were going to call us 'girls' not 'ladies'."

"When we are talking business you are women, ladies. When we are talking personal you are girls. This is business, not personal."

"Oh! A Godfather aficionado!"

"Donnie, I'm not sure you are taking this in the spirit I'm giving it. I'm trying to explain to you who I am and what you can expect if we are together."

"Andrew, sweetie, we already know who you are. Don't expect us to be shocked by telling us that you don't like living in the material world. We are like you in that at least. We are doing what we like to do. It fulfills us. Yes we each make $150,000 a year plus expenses plus benefits. But that's what the job pays. We do it because it's what we do."

"Christ, Donnie, you girls make $300,000 a year and I paid for dinner? This is one sexist world!"

I said, 'Honey, that's one of the things we want to change. Do you know something?"

"What?" he asked.

"I've got a secret. Dee Dee and I didn't tell you everything. Sorry, Andrew, but you're just not ready to hear the whole story."

"Aw, come on, Donnie. Don't do this to me. If you didn't want me to know, why bother even telling me the secret exists? You chicks are weird!"

"Oh, so we were ladies, then we were girls, and now we are chicks? We seem to be losing status in your eyes. Sorry, Andrew. I won't talk. I guess you will have to torture it out of me." I'll admit there might have been a little laughter in my eyes.

The look in Andrew's eyes was priceless. If I could have caught it on camera I could have sold it to Cosmo for their cover. It was feral. It was unadulterated lust. It was wild need. He transformed himself instantly from this concerned carrying young man into a passionate lust-filled male animal needing to mate. I felt a rush of fluid in my loins. 

Andrew stood and drew me to my feet. We embraced and kissed with passion and want. Suddenly I was swept off my feet and he was carrying me to his bedroom. 

Andrew's Story

These girls have the sweetest most indirect yet upfront approach about sex. On Wednesday Dee Dee has asked me if I wanted to relieve my tension the 'old fashioned way'. She was asking if I wanted to fuck her. She just blew me away. There is just no subterfuge in the woman. 

And now, Donnie, who had been being flirtatious and teasing as I tried to tell her my tale of woe came right out and asked me to go down on her. She was so sweet about it. She held out this carrot, this secret the girls have been holding back on me. 

She must want to tell me, but she wants me to force it out of her. And she obviously knows how I made Dee Dee talk last night. I made her talk with my tongue. It was hot. 

I don't know. It was the way her eyes looked when she essentially challenged me to torture the secret out of her. They were laughing, not at me, but at the fun she was having. This easy humor of theirs is so sexy.

We had been having an intellectual conversation when out of nowhere she makes an offhanded proposition and suddenly I was consumed with lust. We kissed; and then I just picked her up and walked into the bedroom. I guess I kind of forgot the foreplay part.

I can torture it out of her. Just watch me. I'll have her begging for mercy. I can't wait. 

I found the clasp and zipper on her dress. It slid off her shoulders and suddenly she was in her bra, panties and stockings. Damn what a beauty! Her skin couldn't be softer. Even her curves were soft. Everything about the woman is soft; sensual; delightful. 

I was vaguely glad that I had remembered to make my bed this morning. Having Dee Dee come to my apartment tonight hadn't even crossed my mind. And Donnie didn't even exist as far as I was concerned. 

Yet here I was with this fabulous, fabulous creature ready to make love; yes love. The passion was almost overwhelming but the fact is I love her. I met her at 6:45 this evening and I am wildly madly in love with her at 10:30. Figure that one out. It's got to be chemical attractors.

I unsnapped her bra - a skill I became quite adept at in high school - and then those round soft perfect mounds were free to my touch. She has soft symmetrical white breasts with small dark nipples. They are so soft and light they practically float away. 

I lifted her again and placed her on my bed. At least I had regained control of my faculties enough to avoid a repeat of the monkey fucking I had given her when we first met. Oh, we are going to monkey fuck, no doubt of that, but first I'm going to make her talk. She wants tongue? Donnie will get tongue like she never got before.

I removed my own clothes, just tossing them on the floor, not knowing or caring where they went.

Then I was with her. She molded her body to mine. We kissed and cuddled just a bit. 

I said, "Won't talk huh? Do you want to bet?"

The light in her eyes turned on. It must be a genetic marker or family trait or maybe I'm just nuts. "I promised Dee Dee. I'm not going to say a word, no matter what you do!" 

She was smiling with her eyes. She has this cat-like quality. Cat must run in her family, because that's what they remind me of: cats that like to be petted; cats that rub against you and purr. She was purring now.

I'm willing to accept her challenge. Maybe I can't make her talk, but we'll both have a hell of a time trying.

I worked my way down her body. I had to stop at those gorgeous tits. I now have access to the four most beautiful tits in the universe. (Not at the same time, of course. I've been told that in no uncertain terms.) What they lack in quantity they more than make up in quality.

I found I can cover one entire tit with my mouth and suck on that sexy erect nipple. God it felt great! 

I can remember back in college. If I happened to be dating a small-breasted woman and a fraternity brother commented on that fact, my stock response was 'anything more than a mouthful is a waste'. I had no idea how right I was.

Donnie's breast was a perfect mouthful. I would have been very unhappy if I couldn't get the entire thing into my mouth. I don't know why, but there it is. 

I just went to town on that breast. Finally I forced myself to leave it because I had been remiss. I hadn't paid attention to the second breast. It fit into my mouth just as perfectly as the first one had. 

Donnie's eyes were watching me. Her small hands were in my hair, guiding my head, pulling me to her. 

My hands were exploring where my mouth had yet to go. I felt that slender womanly waist. Her hips flared in roundness. Her ass checks were soft and round, everything about Donnie is soft and round. 

I pulled myself lower and finally my mouth gave up its hold on her tit. It wasn't easy. I could have suckled on that tit all night. I envied her babies. They will get to dine there.

I worked my way down her body, but I knew now it was time to get to work. She wanted to be tortured? Torture time is here.

There was a time when a pussy kind of grossed me out, I guess. What was I, maybe 16? I couldn't imagine going down on a woman. For some reason, the concept of her going down on me was perfectly fine. I just wasn't ready to reciprocate.

Now there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to devour that beautiful little pussy. In the manner of a true blonde, Donnie's pubic hairs were short and sparse. 

What am I saying? I've been to bed with a couple of dozen women in my life, I guess. I haven't exactly been keeping a spreadsheet listing hair color while correlating the quantity and texture of pubes. All I know is, the last two women I've been to bed with have been blondes, and both of them have sparse and short, curly and soft pubes. Coincidentally both of their last names are Martin.

I lifted Donnie's legs onto my shoulders. I wanted to be able to look at her as I ate her pussy. I love to look into her eyes. They are expressive, round, blue-green, electric. 

I started with her feet. She has these small, dainty feet. I'm no foot fetishist, but no man could help but love those feet. I licked her arches. I sucked on her toes, one at a time. I ran my tongue up ankle, blowing and kissing as I went. I reached her knee and tongued the back of it. 

Now I was getting into Indian territory. I slowly licked my way up the inside of her thigh, getting closer and closer to her sexy cunt. I could smell her. Already she was wet and waiting.

Nope. I wasn't ready for a frontal attack. Moving to the other leg I applied the same kind of loving attention to that soft, smooth beautiful thigh. Damn I could do this for a living.

I started blowing softly on Donnie's pussy. I could see by her expression that she was anxious. I leaned in and kissed her lips. A long soft moan came from her other lips. 

"Have you had many men do this before, Donnie?"

She shook her head no. "Never!" she gasped. She was having a little difficulty talking. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun.

My tongue snaked out and traced her lips, from bottom to top. My finger was playing with the skin between her pussy and her anus. I've always found that to be the perfect distraction for a woman. Doing that with your fingers while licking her pussy lips is a double dose of distraction. It gets them going alright.

I forced her legs higher, bringing her knees closer to her chest. I think my face was about a foot and a half from her face. She had a ring side seat to this one. 

I sucked on the lips of her cunt, pushed a finger, then another into her sopping pussy. She was hot. She began to moan and hump against my face. She was vocal. That surprised me, since Dee Dee barely said a word while I ate her.

"Do it Andrew. Eat me. Oh, God Andrew, please I wanna come. Don't stop, baby. Make me come, sweetie. Please I need it. I need you. Make me come. Now, please. PLEASE!"

I was feeling too good to torture her tonight. She liked this way too much. I wanted to make it special. I can torture her some other night. This night was just for her.

"Donnie, honey, do you like my tongue in your pussy? Do you like me to suck you clit? Feels good, huh. Yeah, I bet it does. Come for me baby. I want to see you come."

I stoked up the pressure. My finger found her G Spot and began rubbing it. My lips sucked in her clit and I tongued it gently but firmly. We looked in each others eyes, and that was when she started to scream. 

"GODDD! OH GODDD! SO GOOD. Oh SO GOOD!! BABY DON'T STOP!! OHHHH!"

Her hips were flying into my face and I was riding her like a cowboy, trying to keep my lips in place for the duration of her orgasm. I sucked her through it and she was almost rapidly building towards another. Her juices were everywhere, her face a mask of passion. She was beautiful. Her second climax seized her. I felt her whole body clench and shudder. 

Donnie collapsed on the bed. She was crying and babbling, taking gasping breaths, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen. I crawled up to her level, took her in my arms and comforted her.

"It's alright, Donnie. You'll be okay honey. Just relax sweetheart. Just relax."

She threw her arms around my neck and began kissing my check, my lips, my throat. 

"Thank you, Andrew. Thank you! Oh, honey I never even imagined anything like that. Oh God, how did I live through that? I can't believe it. Where did you learn that? Thank you darling."

"And I didn't even ask you any questions, I'll have you know."

She said, "It doesn't matter. I couldn't have answered them coherently anyway. I can barely breathe now."

"Do you want to talk about your secret now?" I asked.

She shook her beautiful head. Her breathing had begun to return to normal, but she was still gasping a little. Her neck and chest were red with the blotches caused by her passion. 

"Andrew, honey, now is not the time to talk about anything. Tomorrow; we'll talk tomorrow, I promise. I'll convince Dee Dee that you are in 'need to know' status, okay? Then you'll know everything we know. But tonight please let's not waste time on words baby. I'm only here a couple of days and I want to remember every minute of them."

"Me too, Donnie. Watching your climax was one of the most beautiful, sexiest things I've ever witnessed. It's all I can do to keep from ravishing you right now. But give me a clue, will you? What is this all about."

She smiled and her eyes fired up. "Your clue is this: You are One of Us."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean Donnie? I don't have a twin brother."

"That's all! You asked for a clue and I gave you one. Use that vaunted intelligence on it, but do it later. Right now I've heard idle talk about ravishing. Please, Andrew. Don't hold back on my account." 

Her eyes were smiling and shining at the same time. Damn she looked hot! I attacked her.

My erection was rock-hard. You try spending half an hour going down on the world's most perfect cunt and not be effected by it. I can't. I slid into her in one stroke and began to rampage through her pussy. I cradled her head in one arm, felt her tits with my free hand. I kissed those soft lips, but my cock was plundering her. 

We were fucking for all we were worth. I was plunging into her and she was hammering back at me. We were two wild animals pounding each other with our lust. Her first cock-induced orgasm swept through her and was gone, but who cared? There were plenty more where that came from.

These girls' cunts were made for my dick. They fit me perfectly. They massaged me, warmed me, gentled me, and raped me, all at the same time. Donnie's lust was endless, like she was making up for four years of abstinence in one violent heart-stopping fuck.

Donnie began to scream. Her knees were over my shoulders. I was sunk deeply within her cunt, practically entering her womb. My balls were slapping her ass as we fornicated like animals.

Finally she reached her apex, her scream was long and shrill. I felt her pussy spasm and my sperm was practically sucked up my length and into her cunt. I was seeing sparks, stars, just bright lights and sounds. My ears were roaring, our shouts were echoing through my bedroom. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 06



Donnie fell limply to the bed, no longer able to move. Her eyes were closed and I thought she may have passed out. I collapsed on top of her, no longer able to hold my head up. I was breathing in long deep gasps, trying to bring myself down from that delirious mating. I knew instantly that I couldn't handle many of these or I'd be a goner.

Death by fucking indeed.



Death By Fucking Ch. 07



Chapter 7: The Next Generation

Dee Dee’s Story

Donnie spent the night with Andrew. I knew she would; I even set it up. I was interested to see my own reaction. 

Donnie and I are close as we can be, and I love her as I love myself. But can we really share the same man? And what about Andrew? Is it too much to ask a man to love two women equally? 

If any man can do it, Andrew’s the man. His passion is boundless as the sea, his love as deep. He is a youthful romantic Romeo. He is the only lover, the only man Donnie and I will ever need. 

I love him to my soul, I want him to myself, and yet I feel no jealousy about Donnie – at least not much. A little sibling rivalry between us girls will only spice up our love lives. We’ll be vying to prove our love to our man, and we will all reap the benefits. 

Donnie and I already discussed that aspect of things. We discuss everything. This is the most important time of our lives. We’ve got to keep open the lines of communication.

We won’t fool him. We won’t seduce him with false promises or lies. We will do it in the name of love. We will seduce him every night. Every day will be foreplay. He won’t tire of us. He’s already told us that, but he doesn’t know the half of it. 

We will make his life endlessly diverse. He won’t tire of us because we won’t let him. We know what he needs and we will give it to him. He needs us now. He’ll need us forever. 

But now we’ve got to face the real question. Is he one of us? Is there an ‘us’? Donnie is sure of it, but I’ve always been a bit skeptical. She wants to talk to him about it but I’m not so sure.

He might think this is a bit odd, even for us. And he did say several times last night that we were ‘too weird’. He backed off. I could tell he was afraid he had hurt our feelings when he said that. We are weird, but too weird? I don’t think so. And Andrew likes us weird.

He is used to his little Playboy bunnies, with their big breasts and small brains; with their desire to be with the handsome young executive of AWC. And they bore him, I can tell. On Tuesday I watched a sexy little mindless thing practically throw herself at him and he barely acknowledged her existence.

He has a brain, does our Andrew. He’s much smarter than he lets on. He thinks that Donnie and I are his intellectual superiors, but that is his insecurities speaking. He’s the smartest man I know. And the most compassionate. And the most passionate. 

Andrew Adkins – an odd mixture of passion and compassion – a man among boys in this world where boys predominate. But that is what we are about. When we succeed, the world will be peopled by men.

Donnie and Andrew came back to the hotel room at 10:00 on Saturday morning. Donnie looked wonderful. She had what only can be described as a ‘well fucked’ look. I know that look, though I had only seen it twice before in my life. I saw it in the mirror on Thursday and Friday morning. There is a major difference between being ‘just fucked’ and being ‘well fucked. We were ‘well fucked’.

My goodness, before this week I rarely even thought the word ‘fuck’, and here I am thinking and saying it over and over. Andrew has me constantly thinking of sex.

When they came in, I tried looking stern. “Donnie, where have you been? You were supposed to be in bed by midnight!”

She looked at me smugly. “Don’t worry, Dee Dee, I was in bed before eleven.”

Andrew looked a little uncomfortable so I tried to put him at ease. I said, “Andrew, honey, I hope you enjoyed last night.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him. Okay, I’ll admit it; I put everything I had into that kiss. If he didn’t feel it down to his toes then he’s a dead man. Yes, this sibling rivalry thing could have very positive results.

After his breathing returned to normal he nervously said, “Uh, yes, it was fine.”

I smiled sweetly to try to ease his discomfort. “Andrew I know this is all new to you. It’s new to us, too. But don’t worry about us. We know you are a sweet loving man. We can handle this rather unique relationship and we think you can too, don’t we Donnie?”

I was standing on Andrew’s right. Donnie assumed the same position on Andrew’s left. We each put an arm around his waist, our hands meeting at the center of his back.

“Dee Dee and I don’t want you to be embarrassed in front of one of us, just because you’ve made love with the other. We’ve discussed this very possibility long before we met you. We had decided to accept a single man for the two of us if we ever found one who might be able to fill that role. How in the world could we ever hope to find two men like you? You’re it, Andrew, if you want the job. Don’t ever be embarrassed or ashamed. Don’t ever worry about jealousy between us; rivalry maybe, but jealousy never.”

Donnie is good at that. She talks logically then finishes with flattery. The fact that her face had a look of adoration on it and her right hand was stroking his cheek couldn’t hurt either.

He still looked a little uncomfortable. “What do you mean rivalry?”

I took that one. “Why Andrew, haven’t you ever thought of being the object of two women’s affection? Donnie doesn’t mind that you will soon be with me. But I bet last night she put just a little more into it so you wouldn’t forget what it was like to be with her.”

Donnie looked smug again. “I put a little more into it this morning, too.”

I had to laugh. “You are a slut! No wonder Andrew loves you. Andrew, this situation will take some getting used to by all of us. But don’t worry about jealousy, please. I could never share you with another woman. But Donnie isn’t just another woman. And she feels the same way.”

She took the cue. “Tomorrow night I’ll be flying back to Indianapolis. I know that Dee Dee will be with you. I’m glad she will. We’re both so glad you came into our lives. Please be glad with us.”

“Glad? I’m ecstatic. You are the sexiest, weirdest, most interesting women I’ve ever met. That fact that you are also beautiful beyond the realm of avarice is too good to be true. I’m still trying to figure out what you see in me.”

“But if I’m to be a part of this, I’ve got to know everything. I’ve got to be a full partner, girls. That’s the way I am. I explained that all to Dee Dee several days ago. It can’t be any other way.”

Donnie said “Oh, now we are girls, again, are we? Well that’s progress anyway. Andrew, honey, please keep telling us how beautiful we are. We girls haven’t heard that nearly enough in our lives, and we have a lot of catching up to do. I promise you, we’ll make it worth your while.”

“Donnie will you stop fishing for compliments? Andrew, you just say what you want whenever you want. Donnie is a shameless hussy and always has been. I’m the one who maintains our respectability.”

Donnie was squeezing Andrew tighter, but she still had to respond to my little taunt. “Me the shameless hussy? You bitch! I remember just the other day when some 35 year old tramp propositioned a perfectly innocent young boy. Well perhaps he’s not so innocent anymore. But you had the most to do with that.”

Andrew was catching on to our banter and no longer seemed ill at ease. Good; that’s what we wanted. “Girls, please! I know a place where they have female mud wrestling. I’m sure they would welcome a death match between two Joanne Woodward clones. Want me to set it up?”

Donnie said, “Very funny, Andrew. We haven’t gotten physical with each other since we were 15. That was when she went out with my boyfriend and let him feel her up. I hadn’t even let him do that. Imagine my surprise when he tried to do it to me and I stopped him! He was mad at me, and I was mad at her. When I went home I wanted to rip her hair out.”

“Donnie, are you still obsessing about that. It was just a little joke. I thought it was funny. I let a boy feel me up and it didn’t harm my reputation a bit.”

Donnie said, “Your reputation? What about my reputation? I never let you take my place with that boy again because I was afraid you would go all the way with him and make me look like the school slut.”

Andrew said, “Boy, being with twins is going to be interesting. Tell me; was your original plan to slip Donnie in on me while thinking it was Dee Dee? I mean, I know that is essentially what actually happened, but that was strictly a mistake. But were you thinking of going that route?”

We looked at each other a little guiltily and I could see Andrew picked up on it. “It’s okay, you know. I can deal with it. It wouldn’t work with me anyway. I can tell you apart in the dark. And Dee Dee, Donnie is far more vocal in bed than you are.”

I looked at her with my mouth open. “You are a slut!”

Andrew said, “Before you two get started again, let’s go down to the arcade and have some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but all this activity has left me starving. And we need to talk about something other than sex or we’ll never get out of here.”

Donnie looked serious for a change and said “Dee Dee, it’s time we talked about… You know.”

Andrew picked up on that one. “Are you referring to that ‘one of us’ comment you made last night when I, uh, how do I put this delicately, asked you under rather unusual conditions?”

I gasped. “Andrew, you didn’t! You tortured my sister? With your tongue?”

He laughed. “No, I didn’t. But I could have. Torture her, that is. I did other things with my tongue, but not that. I’m just too sweet a guy for my own good. But just remember, if you try to hold things back from me, I have ways of making you talk.”

I looked at Donnie. “So now you know what it’s like. What do you think?”

She blushed. “Oh my God! Dee Dee, do you think we can talk about this another time?”

I said, “Oh, yes. I think we are going to have to. Let’s go eat and find out if Andrew is one of us.”

Andrew said, “Just who is ‘us’?”

Donnie said, “Why, the next generation, of course. Let’s go.”


Andrew’s Story

‘The next generation’; what the heck is that supposed to mean? These girls play their little word games, wanting to see how I respond. They bait me just for the fun of it. I’ll play. I don’t mind playing their games. But something tells me this is more than a game. ‘The next generation’: I guess I’m supposed to infer something from that, but all I can think of is Star Trek. 

We went down to the restaurant and I ordered lunch. If I have my druthers, I druther have lunch than breakfast. The girls both ordered mushroom omelets. I guess they eat eggs, too, vegetarian or not. Following Julia Child’s edict that champagne is always in order, I ordered a bottle of Mum’s. 

Hey, it worked last night. Maybe I’ll get lucky again. I’ve gotten laid at least eight times in the last 3 ½ days and it hasn’t done a thing to take the edge of my horniness. Oh, yeah, I got a blow job too. Is this a great life or what?

We were seated away from any other customers. The girls insisted on that when the waiter seated us. They wanted a private discussion. 

I said “Girls if you wanted to avoid drawing attention to yourselves, you each should have worn a sack.”

They both smiled that eye-lighting smile of theirs. But Dee Dee said, “Andrew why don’t you tell us a little about your childhood. How did school go for you?”

“Dee Dee, I thought I was the one who was going to do the asking and you were the ones who were going to do the answering.”

“Patience, Andrew! I think we can answer most of your questions by letting you answer them for yourself. Now you were going to tell us about your childhood.”

“I was?”


“You were. Tell us about school when you were a child.”

Damn, why did this subject have to come up? It’s obvious enough to everyone that I’m over my head here intellectually. But now they want to prove it. Oh well.

“School sucked. When I was in first grade my teacher thought I was an idiot. She wanted me to be held back at the end of the year and she wanted me to be put in the class for mentally disabled kids. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Donnie asked “What did your parents think about your intelligence before you went to school?”

“What do you think? They were parents. They thought I was a shining star, the brightest most original child they ever knew. Just like every other parent.”

Dee Dee said “Did they go along with your first grade teacher’s recommendation?”

“Hell no. They went ballistic. They insisted that I be tested. They wanted to prove that that Nazi didn’t know what she was talking about.”

“Nazi? Oh, you mean your teacher. Why do you say she was a Nazi?” Dee Dee was doing the talking now.

“Everyone had to toe the line in that class. Get in line, don’t fidget, follow instructions to the letter, don’t question her authority, don’t question her logic, don’t question her answers, don’t question. I’m sorry, but I did question. She couldn’t stand me.”

Dee Dee said, “And did the school district test you?”

“Oh, yeah. I took some IQ test thing. What do I know, I was six? I had at least a small moment of triumph. Madame Hitler was there in a meeting with my parents and the school psychologist when he told us the results. My scores were in the top ten percentile; for eleventh graders.”

Donnie and Dee Dee exchanged a look. Dee Dee asked “What did the school district do with you?”

“They went right ahead and placed me in a class for the mentally disabled for the next term. The psychologist said the scores didn’t mean anything and I was probably some kind of idiot savant.”

“Did your parents go along with that decision?”

“Yes, for as long as it took for them to drag my ass out of the meeting and out of the school. I didn’t even finish first grade at that school. They found a private school with very small classes and no preconceptions of what intelligence was supposed to look like. It just about put them under financially. You’ve got to understand, my family was anything but rich.”

Donnie asked “How did you get along with other kids growing up?”

“Hey what is this? Are you trying to determine if my genes are right for your children or something? I’ll tell you right now, my genes suck. My family is poor, my brother and sister are mediocre, my Mom is wonderful but not that bright. Is that what you wanted to know?”

Dee Dee smiled gently at me. “My, my Andrew; it seems we hit on a tender spot. Is this why you are so unreasonably self-critical? This is all need-to-know information, I promise you. Everything you’ve said has done nothing to change our opinion of you. Rather, it’s confirmed what we already believed.”

“Okay. You already knew I wasn’t as smart as you two and you just wanted confirmation of the fact. Well I could have told you that without all of this third degree.”

Donnie reached over and lightly slapped me across the side of my head. “Will you relax? You wanted to know about the next generation didn’t you? Be patient and you will understand where this is leading. We know you are brilliant. Nothing you say about your childhood could change that. Now you were telling us how you got along with the other kids.”

I gave in, since they were being so nice to me. “Okay, I’ll talk. Other kids hated me, if you must know. I was a nerd. I talked too much. I couldn’t sit still. I didn’t pay attention. I was the class geek. I was the kid everyone picked on, until I started to grow and gain some muscle. When some bully started pulling that crap on me in fifth grade I kicked the shit out of him. After that they avoided me. It was better than being picked on.”

Dee Dee asked “How about high school? Did you date, did you have friends?”

“High school was a little better, I guess. I still felt like a geek. The other kids had interests that just didn’t appeal to me. I played in the band, which is a typical geek-like thing to do. But I had tennis by then.” 

“I was pretty much an outcast up until the end of my junior year, but then I won states. It was only Division 2, but I was the first state champion in any sport that my school had had in twenty years. That made me a celebrity, even though I was a geek.”

“So when I was a senior I could have been in with the in-crowd if I wanted to be. I just didn’t want to be. Girls came up to me and asked me for dates and shit. That was weird. I wasn’t sure what to do with a girl.”

Donnie asked “What about college?”

“Yeah college was much better. I fit in with most people. I had plenty of dates. I felt comfortable around the girls. I did pretty well with my tennis, but they had plenty of great athletes on campus, so that wasn’t the thing that made me acceptable. I just fit in better. I don’t know why.”

Dee Dee said “Well, Andrew, let’s see if we can look at your childhood and make some extrapolations. Tell us about mammals and child rearing.”

Now what the hell was this about? Talk about coming from left field. “So you’re done with the questions about my childhood huh? Now we’re going to have a biology quiz. You girls are weird. But I can play.”

“Let’s see. Mammals and child rearing: mammals are essentially the only family of animals that give birth to live young. Of course there are exceptions to every rule. Mammal mothers generally rear the children. The length of the mother-child relationship is generally linked to the amount of learned behavior the child has to be taught: the more instinctive behavior, the shorter the childhood; the more learned behavior, the longer the childhood. I don’t know; what else are you driving at?”

Donnie said, “Talk about childhood in humans.”

“Well I would assume that childhood in early man approximated the time it took to enter puberty. I don’t have a clue how long childhood was for homo habilis. Assuming it followed other mammalian patterns, perhaps they entered puberty a few years earlier than we do. Certainly the life expectancy of habilis was quite a bit shorter than modern man’s.”

“As man evolved he had to have a longer childhood. He had more to learn. The body of homo sapiens obviously matures before the mind does, I guess. Children enter puberty between say 11 and 14, but are still considered children until they are quite a bit older, based upon the society.”

“Let’s say in modern humans adulthood is reached by 18. Wait a minute! If we are looking just at the species as a whole, rather than looking at the mores of a particular society, maybe you should say that adulthood is reached shortly after puberty, say 13 to 15. Females can definitely give birth not long after they have entered puberty, so from some points of view that would make them adults. What is this all about ladies?”

Dee Dee said, “Well. Not bad for ‘shooting from the hip’, if you know what I mean. Let’s make the final connection, Andrew. How would you evaluate the length of your childhood?”

Shit I can put two and two together and make it come out five. “You’re trying to make me say that the problems I had growing up were related to the relative position of my maturity to other kids’ maturity at the same age? You are saying that my childhood was longer than other kids’ and therefore I was less mature? You’re saying that I didn’t leave childhood until I got to college, say 19 or 20 years old. Is that what you are saying?”

The girls seemed satisfied with my little dissertation, but where was this going? Were they going to try to make me draw some kind of conclusion from all of this?

Donnie said “Okay, Andrew, what is the logical result of that little logical exercise you went through?”

“Oh, no, Donnie! I’m not going there. I can see where you are trying to lead me, but you’ve got to do better than that. Why don’t you tell me where you are coming from?”

Dee Dee said “Andrew, just one more thing, I promise. Explain speciation.”

“Oh, boy, here we go again. Speciation happens when one species evolves into another species. There have been lots of explanations as to how it might occur. Generally speciation can occur when a small sub-population of a species is in some way isolated from the main body and goes its own genetic way. There might be a river between the sub-group and the main group, something like that. But if for some reason whatever barrier existed is broken down or lost, then the sub-group can easily be reabsorbed into the main group as long as the speciation process isn’t complete. From what I gather, speciation is very difficult to occur, but happens all the time. Sounds contradictory and maybe I don’t know what I am talking about.”




Death By Fucking Ch. 07



Donnie asked “What about speciation in humans?”

“From what I read, many people are talking about the end of natural evolution for humans. We cover the planet. We have transportation that is so good that a person can be in New York today and in Bangkok tomorrow. There is no place for speciation to occur because there are no isolated populations anymore. Evolution in the future will be caused by scientists doing genetic alterations.”

Donnie laughed. “You do know something about everything, don’t you?”

Dee Dee said, “You like scenarios, don’t you? Think about this scenario. One hundred and fifty thousand years ago a new species was born. The species was descended from a long line of animals called hominids, the most intelligent of animals ever to be on earth, probably. But the new species had something previous hominids did not: the inherent ability to use symbolic logic. Eventually language was developed to use that ability and suddenly the species was no longer just an animal. The species became man – homo sapiens. “

“Answer me this. For the next one hundred and forty thousand years man expanded across the face of the earth. Man improved his tool set, developed art, created quite a few other admirable things. But man remained a hunter-gatherer, just as previous hominids had been. But suddenly everything changed. Why?”

“In the last ten thousand years, man, starting with nothing, has taken over the earth. Man has discovered agriculture, discovered science, created government, and walked on the moon. The real advances, the major steps that have been made have really come within the last six hundred years. It could be said that most progress has been made in the last two hundred years. Two hundred years out of 150,000 years; that’s extraordinary. What caused things to change?”

I got the picture. I think I got where she was going with this. “You’re going to tell me that man himself has changed. You’re going to say that we are not the homo sapiens of 150,000 years ago, right?”

Donnie picked up the narrative. “You are close, Andrew. It’s not all of mankind. But homo sapiens has been attempting to speciate, evolve into a new species. Time and again a different type of man has been born, one who could go beyond the simple talents of homo sapiens. It is those misfits who have been the motivating forces for change. Plato, Aristotle, Jesus, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Eleanor Roosevelt, William Shakespeare, Voltaire, Einstein, Edison: who were these men and women?”

I shook my head. “Wait a minute, you’re telling me that these people were all ‘the next generation’ of man? That’s a little far fetched.”

Dee Dee said, “No, that isn’t exactly what we are saying. These were indications of mankind’s attempts to get to the next level. They were the prototypes of what was to come. But they were too few to create a movement. Their greatness allowed them to impact the flow of history. But they were like an upsurge in the body of man that fell back again into the whole, re-assimilated into the species, not unlike your sub-species scenario who merged back into the main group.”

“So where do you come in?” I asked. 

Donnie replied “We are the first of the effort to finalize the speciation effort. We and others like us are trying to breed our way to the next species. We’ve made great progress in not a long time. We are still homo sapiens, but we are an almost separate sub-species.”

“What is that supposed to mean? How can you know that?” This had gone from being a little unbelievable to a lot unbelievable.

“Andrew, do you remember when we first decided to ‘relieve your tension’? I told you not to worry about birth control, didn’t I?”

“Sure, Dee Dee; I was wondering about that. Are you on the pill or something?”

Dee Dee said “No, Andrew. It is very difficult for us to conceive with a normal homo sapien. Our Mother was with my father for many years before she was able to conceive us.”

“To be a member of the same species two individuals must be able to mate successfully and have their offspring successfully mate as well. We are close to being unable to successfully mate with any normal homo sapiens. I was sure there would be no chance for me to conceive with you in only one night.”

Donnie gave a little gasp. “But Dee Dee, what if he is one of us? Will conception remain difficult? Could we already be pregnant?”

Dee Dee stood up in a panic. “Andrew pay the bill! We’ve got to get to a drug store now!”



Death By Fucking Ch. 08



Chapter 8: Andrew gets a twofer

Dee Dee's Story

I'm not sure what I was feeling as we hurried out of the hotel restaurant. I just panicked when I realized what a fool I had been. I was rushing to a pharmacy to buy an early pregnancy test, but I realized the test probably wouldn't be able to detect a pregnancy after 3 days. I must be out of my mind.

I turned to confront Andrew and Donnie who had been trying to catch up to me. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I was running to get a home pregnancy test, but I'm sure I won't be able to use it for days or maybe even weeks. There isn't any rush to get one."

Both of their faces were unfathomable. I bet the look on my face was indecipherable as well. Why shouldn't it be? I have no idea how I feel about this. Panic. That's what I feel. But is it good panic, bad panic, or just plain panic? 

Andrew must have seen the looks on both of our faces. He took both of our arms and said, "Come on, let's go upstairs and talk this thing over."

As we went up to my room, I started to regain control. I was breathing deeply, calming down. Andrew asked to use my laptop and I of course let him. Donnie and I huddled on my bed, hugging and trying to make sense of this all.

"Donnie, we might be pregnant! If Andrew is one of us, what would that mean? He might be just as potent as any normal male would be with any normal female. I'm so sorry, Donnie, the thought just never occurred to me that he wasn't a normal human."

"It's okay, Dee Dee. How could you have known? And maybe he is just a normal man, had you thought of that? Maybe he is just an incredibly intelligent, wonderfully sexy, unbelievably sensitive normal human. Well I just talked my way out of that idea. If he isn't one of us, there is no 'us'."

I said "His touch! Do you remember the first time he touched you? Andrew called it 'chemical attractors', but that was just a theory. Maybe it's genetics instead. Maybe his genes and our genes recognized their kinship. Maybe we were irresistible to each other because we were made for each other." 

I finally realized Andrew was not a part of the conversation. He was sitting at the desk, fiddling with my laptop. "Andrew, what are you doing? Maybe you had better be a part of this conversation."

He said "Six days. You can take the test as early as six days after conception. You might get a negative result because an insufficient amount of some pregnancy hormone has been created and need to take the test a few days later, but if you get a positive result, that's it."

So we could find out in just a few more days. We had been sitting there holding each other. I had been panicked, then I was a little frightened. But all of a sudden I realized that a different feeling was permeating my body. 

Donnie and I looked at each other with our mouths open. She said "Do you feel like I feel?"

I nodded my head. "More so."

We both turned to Andrew with predatory looks on our faces, I guess. He saw them because he took a half step back and his hands came up as if to protect himself. 

He said, "Girls, I'm so sorry. I honestly thought you were protected. I've never come close to getting a woman pregnant before. There has never even been a question. It's my fault. A gentleman always takes care of a lady."

Donnie said "You are so right, Andrew. And right now you've got two ladies that desperately need to be taken care of."

Andrew was confused. "What do you mean? Aren't you upset with me?"

I had to laugh. He is so sensitive but sometimes he can be oblivious to the obvious. "Andrew you have two extremely horny sisters on your hands. I'm not sure why. You were already the most attractive man we've ever known. But we suddenly realize that you might be able to get us pregnant at the drop of a hat. We may already be pregnant! That is so erotic!"

Andrew was obviously shocked. "You think pregnancy is sexy? Huh?"

Donnie said, "You're not too bright. I like that in a man."

She stepped up to Andrew and put her arms around him and gave him a soul-felt heart-stopping kiss. When she finally released him, I turned him around and did the same, giving him the most passion-filled kiss my old body could deliver. I came up for air and Donnie again pulled him to her, lavishing him with another lascivious smooch.

Andrew pulled back, his face flushed, his breathing heavy. His erection was straining against his pants. 

He said "If this is foreplay, I'm a dead man!"

I had to be honest with the poor boy. "Andrew what we have here is two girls and only one boy. I know this is many men's fantasy, but I doubt if many of them could actually pull it off, at least to the satisfaction of both girls. You, my dear are the exception to that rule. I had intended to ask you to spend the rest of the weekend with Donnie, at least until she caught her flight. I'm sorry, Donnie, but I'm too horny for that. You understand, don't you?"

Donnie nodded her head. "If you are half as horny as I am Dee Dee, I don't blame you for wanting to share."

I said "Look, Andrew; normally we are two calm professional women who are in complete control of our emotions. But you have barraged us with feelings in the last few days that have turned us into simpering idiots. And now this! At least our reaction this time wasn't to cry. Be grateful for that anyway."

Andrew said, "But you established an unbreakable rule last night, I remember because I carefully listen to everything you say regarding sex. That rule was: male-female only. Are you planning on revising that rule?"

Donnie said, "No Andrew. You are a systems analyst, you do the math. You can see as well as we can that there are two beds in this room. I'm getting into one. Dee Dee is getting into the other. You are free to move from bed to bed as you see fit. This can't be a standard practice, but honey we both need you now!"

Donnie began removing her clothing and tossing them on a convenient chair. I began doing the same. Both of us were looking Andrew in the eye. He looked like a fish. His mouth was open in an 'O' shape, opening and closing as if gasping for breath. But he never took his eyes of us. I could tell he had so many things to look at, he couldn't decide where to put his eyes.

Donnie reclined in the first bed, I in the second. Both of us had pulled down the bedspread and allowed our naked bodies to be exposed to our lover. 

Donnie gestured to Andrew and said, "Well, the ball's in your court. Come, Andrew."

Andrew's Story

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I've got two naked goddesses lying in their beds, each waiting for little old me. And if they aren't pregnant yet, they sure as hell act like the want to be. 

I feel myself entering the zone again; that zone where my instincts tell me to pillage and plunder and take no prisoners. I'm going to take them both. I'm going to take them until I own them. 

I'm not like this normally. People are free, women are equal. No person owns another person. These women are superior to me in every way. But I've got to stake my claim for all time in both of them. This time when I plant my seed, it will grow in each of them. This is coming from so deep in my soul that no conscious thought is involved. 

Every sense I have is screaming: propagate.

Donnie invited me over to her bed. I have to start somewhere, but I must admit my inclination is to start with Dee Dee. It has nothing to do with a preference between the two of them, other that it feels right that Dee Dee become the first to be impregnated. 

'Impregnate': That is a word that takes 'fuck' to a whole new level. Especially here, where these women have become the center of my universe, where every emotion I've ever had toward a female seems to be pallid and tame compared to the incredibly intense feelings that well in me every time I think of these magnificent creatures.

They drive every other thought from my head. My heart swells with passion whenever I touch them. It will be my honor, my duty to impregnate them. And in the meantime I fully intend to fuck their brains out. 

I went over to Donnie's bed. She reached out, those gorgeous round soft breasts just inviting me to touch them. But she gave me an almost chaste kiss and whispered in my ear, "Andrew, start with Dee Dee. She should be your first tonight. She found you. She loved you first. Go and take her. Then come back to me."

I took Donnie in my arms and kissed her the way she needed to be kissed, passionately, deeply. I looked in her eyes and with a smile I turned to my first love.

Dee Dee looked almost surprised when she saw me turning to her. She reached out just as Donnie had. Her breasts are those same round symmetrical soft breasts that Donnie has. They are frighteningly alluring. I gave her one deep kiss while fondling those beautiful orbs, slid into bed beside her, and then slid into her.

She was wet and ready. She moaned as she felt my hardness fill her pussy. I was too crazed to be gentle. No sooner had I felt myself fully seated in her lovely little cunt than we began to fuck in earnest. 

I felt like some machine, a piston hammering my way into her cylinder, over and over, gaining in speed and power. She was mine to impregnate and I wanted to fertilize her with my seed. She was screaming in her passion. She needed to feel my sperm seeking her egg. I know she did. 

I lifted those lovely legs onto my shoulders to gain direct and deep access to her womb. Her knees were pressed to her tits; her legs spread widely; her face a mask of passion, pleasure and pain. 

I could feel my eruption building from my balls. It was like I had never had her before. I was taking what was mine. She belonged to me. Our child, our children, could be conceived tonight. 

I was ramming into her. Her body convulsed in a massive orgasm, her scream filled the room. Through lust-glazed eyes I noticed Donnie watching in the next bed; that magnificent body exposed to my gaze, one hand gently twisting an engorged little nipple, the other hand slowly stroking her slippery slit. 

I didn't have time to pay attention to her. Now I only wanted Dee Dee. She was calling my name, demanding my seed. "GOD!!! Come in my, Andrew! Please. Give me your child! I want your babies! Fuck me! ANDREW!!! FUCK!! I'M THERE!!"

My sperm exploded into her womb. I kept up my frantic pace as my seed shot into her again and again. I pushed into her as deeply as I could go and held there, my cock against her cervix, the last shot of cum marking the end of our coupling, marking her as mine. 

Our love is perfect. She belongs to me, now and forever. I will never look at another woman. These girls are mine, and I am theirs.

Dee Dee collapsed, crying and laughing, whispering endearments, her arms pulling me tightly into her still. 

She calmed enough to kiss me one last time and say "I will always love you."

I held her and whispered "That's because we were made for each other. It's a chemical attraction!"

Donnie's Story

Oh my GOD!! Watching Andrew take (and I mean TAKE) Dee Dee was the most erotic thing I've ever seen. How in the world did Dee Dee stay so calm last night, when she saw Andrew do the same thing to me? 

Tonight Dee Dee was just TAKEN. He was SO deep in her. Our cycles are almost always in synch. I know that this is my fertile time of month (or as fertile as we ever are, given our difficulty in conceiving with normal men). It should be hers as well. If she wasn't already pregnant, then this could do it. 

Could Andrew possibly be able to resuscitate after that fantastic coupling? How long will it take? I need it. I need him! I want him to impregnate me. It's what I was born for, what we were both born for. We are the breeders. Our cousins, the other twin families we've discovered, we are all the breeders. Time to breed! I am so aroused.

Andrew didn't even give himself a chance to rest. Dee Dee looks like she is down for the count. Oh my God, she still has enough presence of mind to place a pillow under her bottom, trying to make Andrew's sperm stay within her, trying to guide it deeply into her womb, give it the best chance of finding her egg. She's so smart. 

Andrew stepped into the bathroom. I heard water running, and then he returned, carrying a washcloth, cleaning himself. He was still semi-hard, but I don't think he could do much damage with it yet. I'll just have to be patient, but I'm SO HORNY!

Andrew slid right into bed with me and suddenly we were kissing, those passionate kisses that promised he would be giving me everything. 

His hands were everywhere, feeling my breasts, tweaking my nipples, sliding along my sex. A finger slid into me. I gasped. I've been waiting for this all day. Oh how I've wanted something inside of me. His finger will have to do for now, but I need his dick!

Andrew was moving his head down my front, suckling my breasts, moving down further, licking the skin of my stomach, working his way to my pussy. He's going down on me again! Thank GOD! I've wanted his mouth on my pussy ever since he did it last night, ever since Dee Dee mentioned what he did for her on Wednesday night.

I felt his tongue along my thighs. I was so wet I was afraid he would drown. I don't want to cum as soon as he touches my clit. Oh, please don't let that happen. I want it to last. I need it to last. 

His tongue circled my clit. I felt it slide along my clitoris and then I was cumming! I guess I may have been screaming. There were lights in my head exploding, drowning out every other sensory source. I didn't want to cum so soon!

But Andrew didn't notice, or if he did, he ignored it. His tongue left my clit and entered my pussy. Oh GOD, it felt so good! I hadn't had time to come down from my climax when I felt another building in me. Andrew wasn't going to be satisfied with bringing me off once. He is my god of pleasure. How does he know me so well? How can he fill me with such bliss? 

My hips were grinding against his mouth. He had a finger, no now two fingers inside of me. His tongue was working its magic on my nether lips, my clit, everywhere. I was becoming delirious with pleasure. I opened my legs wider, welcoming his mouth into my pussy. 

God he was working my clit again! Oh I can't stop it! My orgasm burst upon me, my legs clamping themselves around Andrew's head, forcing him to continue with his assault on my pussy. 

"Andrew, I'm cumming! Don't stop! Oh keep eating me. I love how you eat me. I love you! Oh, dear! It's wonderful! I'm cumming Andrew. Oh GOD!! I'M CUMMING!!"

What happened? He was down there and all of a sudden he was holding me in his arms. Did I faint? I must have passed out, but oh, I'm still so horny!

"Andrew, honey, please put it in me. I know you're ready, I can feel it against me: your wonderful hardness. I love it! I need it sweetie. Please Andrew put it in me. Please honey, I need it. Give me your baby, Andrew. Please!!"

I was so lust-crazed I had no shame. I needed him so badly. I wanted his baby! 

And then he was there! I felt the bulbous head of his huge erection sliding against my soaking pussy lips. It felt sooooo good. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling.

Andrew's passion took over. He slid into me with no resistance. I've never been so wet down there. And then he was fucking me. He was giving me what I needed: a thorough fucking. I needed to be fucked by Andrew Adkins. No other man would do. No other man will ever do. I need him, today, often and forever. How can I leave him tomorrow, knowing I may already be carrying his child? How can I leave him?

My passion took me. I seemed to be cumming after every few strokes. He is so BIG! My entire pussy was filled to the brim with Andrew Adkins. Any more would be wasted, because it just wouldn't fit into me. His size is the maximum I can handle and then some.

It is so sexy knowing what Andrew has between his legs. I'm convinced that size matters only when you are being fucked by a huge dick. Then, believe me, size matters. When it isn't fucking me, I don't care what the size of a dick is. How shallow is that? Men as objects: what a concept!

I would love Andrew just as much if his dick was half as big. But I'm so glad it isn't.

Andrew was picking up his pace. The continuous power fucking that Andrew was giving me seemed to be getting even more powerful. He was sucking on my neck while he pounded my pussy. I could feel a wave of passion start in my pussy and work its way up, coming out my mouth. I was screaming again. It was the loud shrill scream of sexual release. 

Andrew's motion never stopped. I could feel him growing inside me. And then it was there, I felt his sperm in my womb! Will this be the day? Will we be able to mark this day on my calendar as the day of my first conception! God I hope so. If not, I want to fuck Andrew every day until we are sure. I was totally consumed in passion. And then it was over. 

I've never felt so thoroughly fucked before. I've never felt so loved. Andrew's arms were cradling me. Our deeply romantic kiss let me know that he too was doing this in the name of love. I never doubted him for a second.

Andrew, Dee Dee and I: together forever. What do we care for the rules of men? He is my husband.



Death By Fucking Ch. 09



Dee Dee’s Story

We slept for hours on Saturday afternoon. We had all dozed off after making love for the first time knowing we could get pregnant. It never occurred to me that the act of sex can be so intensified by that knowledge. I don’t know when I’ve wanted to make love so much before. 

Well, Wednesday evening, the first time Andrew and I were together was incredibly intense. Actually, Thursday was pretty intense, too. I’m starting to sound like a broken record. Every time I’ve made love with Andrew was more intense than any experience I’d had before. But this was different somehow. 

When I woke, I looked over to Donnie’s bed, where Andrew had collapsed after servicing both of us sisters more than adequately. I was surprised to see my sister looking back at me. Andrew was still asleep. I don’t blame the poor boy.

Donnie slowly extricated herself from Andrew’s arms without waking him. She slid out of her bed and into mine. We pulled the covers above our heads and powwowed like we did when we were children.

“Dee Dee, that was the sexiest I’ve ever felt in my life! My God, I climaxed as soon as Andrew touched me, I was so excited.”

“I know! I know! Just the thought that he might be impregnating me gave me the shivers. Did he perform as well for you as he did for me? I thought he was going to kill me!”

“He is such a hunk, Dee Dee! How did we get so lucky? I thought we would never find a man to be with, and somehow we’ve found the perfect man. I realized while he was doing me that I have to leave tomorrow. Sis, it’s going to be so hard to leave him!”

“I know the feeling, Donnie. FYI, our project is going so well, we will probably be finished by next Friday. I’ll be going home. I haven’t spent one moment worrying about it before. But now I see I am going to be devastated. I feel like I could cry right now.”

“I guess now we will learn how he really feels about us. We are leaving him, we might be pregnant. Will he be as upset as we are, or will he consider himself well rid of us?”

“Donnie, you know perfectly well that Andrew is committed to us! Don’t even go there. That boy will never leave us until we force him away. He is ours forever. Never doubt him. We belong to each other. We may as well be married.”

“Married? Dee Dee, one of us is going to have to marry him! It’s obviously going to be you, sweetie. That’s going to be hard for me, I’ll be honest. But after Andrew and I made love today, the thought occurred to me that we are already married in the heart. That’s what really matters.”

I pulled the covers from over our heads and we peaked out at him. He was still asleep, lying on his back, looking so inviting.

I said quietly “Doesn’t he look sweet lying there? Who would believe that handsome young boy is such a man in bed? We really put the pressure on him today, you know. We asked him to do both of us. A lot of men would have wilted under that.”

Donnie’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of wilted, look at his penis! It’s hard! The boy is insatiable, thank God. Dee Dee, when Andrew did me, you know, orally, I couldn’t believe it. He was amazing! I would really like to return the favor.”

I had a disgustingly sinful thought. “We could both do him, had you thought of that? Wouldn’t that be an interesting way for him to wake up? It could be our little gift to him for taking care of both of us this morning.”

“Dee Dee, I thought you told him that we were firm about no group sex. We are supposed to be two separate couples in bed.”

“I know, I know. But we wouldn’t be doing anything to each other. Ever.”

“Good. In that case, this should be fun.”

And it was. We snuck quietly to his bed and crawled in on either side of him. He was still asleep (he must be a very sound sleeper). I softly took hold of his penis with two fingers and lifted it off of his stomach. It was already hard, and it is long enough that there was room for both of our mouths to work. Donnie took the head into his mouth, while I started to lick his shaft. I worked my way down and began to suck on his balls, while Donnie just took more and more of him down her throat. 

For a first time fellatiatrix (if that is a word), Donnie was doing a bang up job. Andrew’s hips started to push upwards, forcing his shaft into Donnie’s mouth. I fondled the base of his shaft while continuing to lick his balls. 

Suddenly Andrew’s eyes flew open. “What the…. What are you doing? Oh, DAMN! GOD! Donnie. DONNIE, Stop. I’m going to come!”

Maybe Donnie didn’t hear him or she just didn’t care, because she seemed to speed her efforts. Sucking sounds were coming from her mouth. Her eyes were locked with Andrew’s eyes. Andrew groaned, his hips left that bed, and he obviously began pumping his sperm into Donnie’s mouth. 

She was sucking and swallowing, having a ball. I was a tad jealous. Oh, well, I have at least a week to practice with Andrew all by myself. No reason to hog all the fun.

Donnie finally pulled off of Andrew’s softening erection and smiled up to him and asked “Are we having fun yet?”

Andrew shook his head. “Either I’m awake or I’m definitely having a major league wet dream. Damn! Aren’t you the girls who haven’t had sex for four years? Are you trying make up for lost time?”

I’m sure my smile appeared just a bit smug. “No Andrew. You looked delicious lying there all by yourself. I hope you don’t mind if we took some liberties. Besides, we need to talk and we didn’t want that over-active libido of yours distracting us.” 

He just shook his head in astonishment. “It won’t be distracting anyone for a while, I’m afraid.”

Donnie said “Good. Let’s talk.”

Andrew’s Story

Wow! This is becoming addictive. I have never, EVER, dreamed of having two girls go down on me at the same time. It’s not the kind of thing that a normally sane guy has for a fantasy. I mean if you are thinking along those lines you are totally nuts. Not to mention, you are totally selfish. Two mouths on one dick; beautiful identical twins with blue-green eyes and blonde hair, soft skin, warm mouths, pouring all of their attentions onto my poor benighted dick? How are you supposed to reciprocate for that?

Well the girls weren’t looking for reciprocity, apparently. After that blow job I was afraid I was going to be out of action for a while. Hope they weren’t expecting anything else from me along those lines, because they ain’t gonna get it. Then again, there they are, naked, beautiful, sexy, soft. They are a walking invitation to a riot.

Donnie had said ‘let’s talk’ so I started things off. I actually do think during the times I’m not acting as a stud service.

“Well we have to talk about two different areas: business and personal. I think we should address the personal first, don’t you?”

Deirdre agreed. “If we can’t come to a meeting of the minds on a personal basis, then the business part won’t mean much, will it?”

So I said, “You girls seem to think you might be pregnant. If one of you is, are you prepared to do the right thing?”

Donnie asked “What’s the right thing?”

I said “Marry me, of course!”

I suddenly had a beautiful naked woman in each arm, crying on my shoulder. I know this is physically impossible, but my dick was on the rise again. I’m a sucker for a crying woman. I’ve learned over the last few days that there is only one good way to comfort a crying woman. I only wish I had two dicks.

Donnie said “You want to marry us?”

“If you will have me. I want to do everything legally possible to bind us together forever. I want to be with both of you, but we should have at least one marriage, don’t you think?”

Donnie seemed to be the one doing the talking for the twins. “We think you should marry Dee Dee. You found each other first. She was your first love. That’s the right thing.” I could tell she was maintaining a stiff upper lip.

I took her in my arms and held her, comforting her for her bravery. I told her “Whoever’s name is on the marriage certificate, I’m marrying both of you equally. I’ll love you forever.”

She was crying again. I had been sitting on the bed, and was pointed straight up in the air, so to speak. Even as she was crying, Donnie stood up, climbed onto my lap and lowered herself onto my erection. 

I sat still as she raised and lowered herself, crying and grinding, hugging and kissing. Suddenly her grip around my neck (and my dick) tightened and she held her body very still except for the grinding motion of her hips. She issued a long loud moan and then grew still.

Her eyes opened as she realized what she had done. She looked at Deirdre shyly and said, “Sorry Dee Dee, crying makes me so horny.”

Dee Dee looked exasperated. She shook her head and said “You are such a slut!”

I was thinking “but what about my dick?” But I’m not that much of a pig. Close but not that much. I held my tongue, knowing that I should be grateful for whatever small attentions were thrown in my direction.

I said, “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, do you girls agree that we should have some sort of a legal document binding us together?”

Dee Dee said “If you say so, Andrew.”

I laughed. “Don’t pretend I’m not the junior member of this triumvirate. ‘If I say so’? Please just tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Donnie said, “The real problem is that you live in Cleveland and we live in Cincinnati. How is that going to be resolved?”

I said, “I’ll give my notice as soon as this project is completed. I’ll tell them the truth, kind of. I’m starting my own business and was just waiting for this project was over to do it because I’m such a nice guy. After that I’ll do whatever you want.”

The girls looked at each other. Was their relief on their faces? I said, “What did you expect me to do?”

Dee Dee answered. “Exactly what you are doing, honey. I told Donnie you loved us as much as we love you.”

I pushed on. “Now that that is out of the way, I have some other things to say. Donnie, I’ve talked to Dee Dee about this in the past, how I feel relationships should be. You’ll find out that I’m pretty easy to get along with, but I need certain things from a relationship and I’ve got to be up front about it with you.”

Donnie said, “Well, be up front. What is it you need from us?”

“Honesty; openness; frankness; I need you to tell me what’s wrong if I screw up. I need you to tell me when I’m not giving you what you need, emotionally, physically, whatever. I promise to do the same. If we have a problem developing we need to nip it in the bud before it becomes a major issue. Donnie, it’s important. I don’t know any other way to make a long term relationship work.”

Donnie said, “That’s a very feminine way of looking at things, Andrew. Are you sure you’re not gay?”

I reached up and fondled her soft beautiful breast. “Would you like to climb back on and decide for yourself?”

Dee Dee slapped my hand away from Donnie’s tit. “Don’t say that to her, Andrew. My sister is a trollop. I’ve seen enough of her passion for the afternoon.”

“Okay! I think it’s time we talked about sex. We’ve been doing it a lot, but we have never talked about it.”

Both of the girls seemed a little embarrassed. Donnie said “We never talked much about sex when we were growing up. What do you want to talk about?”

“You two are on the road. You are going to get anxious, tense as Dee Dee would say. I’m an eyewitness and I know that you are two very enthusiastic about sex. I just wanted to talk about what you plan to do about it.”

Dee Dee looked a little shocked. And stunned. “Andrew, we’ve gone years without any sex. We certainly know how to control ourselves when we are on the road. I’m shocked and stunned that you would even think that we would do anything about it.”’

“Hold on. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just saying that it’s easier to have no sex than not enough sex. Sex begets more sex; which begets even more sex. Before long, there’s a whole lot of begettin’ going on. I’m telling you that I understand that and I don’t have any expectations of you in terms of fidelity, I guess is the term.”

Donnie said “What, you are telling us that it’s alright with you if we have other men in our lives while we are away from you? That’s crazy.”

“But that isn’t what I’m saying. I want you all to myself. I’m selfish that way. But if it happens, I understand. Just do me a favor and don’t tell me about it. I don’t want to know. I don’t get off on knowing the women I love are attractive to other men. Any man who isn’t attracted to you is either crazy or gay.”

“But if you get that ‘itch’ and can’t wait till we are together again to scratch it, I just want you to know that I give my permission in advance. No guilt trips are necessary. But I’m insecure enough that I absolutely do not want to know about it.”

“I don’t own either of you. I know that when we make love I feel that way – that I want to own you – but I don’t and I can’t.”

Dee Dee was angry. “And what about you, Andrew? Are we to assume that you should feel free to have sex with whomever you please?”

I shook my head. “You girls are taking this totally wrong. I believe in serial monogamy. I never LOOK at another woman when I’m in a committed relationship. Serial monogamy? How about serial binogamy. Is that a word, ‘binogamy’? Whatever. But I’ll be having twice as much sex as either of you. I know there’s a degree of inequality there. I’m not saying I want you to screw around. I just don’t want it to hurt our relationship.”

Donnie and Dee Dee exchanged a look. Donnie said “Andrew if we can’t have you we don’t want anyone. We are not the liberated women you seem to think we are. You’ve taught us more about sex in the last couple of days than we had learned our entire lives.”

“Donnie, but now that I’ve taught you that, maybe you will want to practice it a little, if you know what I mean. Christ now I’m starting to sound like you two. I don’t want you to. But if you do, I understand. Damn I wish I’d just kept my mouth shut.”

My dick was starting to become flaccid again in the face of this discussion. Dee Dee noticed and reached over and started to stroke it. “What’s the matter, Andrew, don’t you love us anymore?” 

I sprung back to full attention. “What do you think? Girls, I’m not trying to start trouble. I’m just trying to defuse any situations before they begin. I’ve had previous relationships end because of this very thing. It would have been much better if I had given permission or at least my partner had asked before she did what she did. I’m giving permission.”

Donnie’s Story

Andrew must think we can’t keep our legs together. I’m very good at keeping my legs together, except when I’m around him. My God I just used him as my personal sex toy right in front of Dee Dee. And he didn’t even climax! I was so selfish. I’ve got to make it up to him, but I’ll have to wait until we are alone.

But I couldn’t let go of Andrew’s selfless but stupid permissioning of any future adultery on our part.

“Andrew, honey, we are not going to feel trapped in our relationship. Being in a relationship with you is the most exhilarating thing that’s happened to us, ever. We’ve been freed. Dee Dee and I are as committed to monogamy as you are, so let’s just forget the topic entirely, okay? ‘nuff said.”

Dee Dee was still softly stroking Andrew’s erection. He leaned back on the bed. It was obvious he was having difficulty concentrating. “Okay then. Let’s talk business. Tell me about the ‘twins’ thing and the ‘next generation’ thing. You aren’t the types to invent such stuff, so what’s the facts, ma’am?”

Dee Dee was obviously getting a little too involved with her stroking. She said, “Wouldn’t it be better if we talked face to face?”

And she climbed right on Andrew’s erection. And she called me a slut? She had never removed her hand from Andrew’s penis. She slipped it into herself and just plunged right down on him. Her eyes closed and her head leaned back, I heard her say “Yessss!”

Dee Dee pushed Andrew back so he was lying on the bed and then she just rode him. She leaned forward to kiss him (and I think she deliberately rubbed her tits against his chest, the bitch). His hands cupped both of her butt cheeks. Dee Dee started to moan loudly. 

Then her moans turned to verbiage. “God, Andrew you are sooo big!! You feel so good, baby. I want you to cum inside me. Please; cum inside me. Let me feel it! Please baby, I want to cum with you!”

The woman has no shame. Andrew was obviously buying into Dee Dee’s little act, and I must admit to becoming a bit hot and bothered myself. They were going at it like animals, humping wildly against each other. 

Andrew cried, “Dee Dee, baby, I’m there!”

Dee Dee only screamed her response. They both exhibited all the signs of having an extended orgasm, and then Dee Dee collapsed on Andrew’s chest. 

Dee Dee turned her head to me with a satisfied smile on her face and said “What did he say about you being more vocal?”

I had to laugh, but then I reached behind her and pinched her on her ass cheek. 

Andrew said, “You were about to tell me about the next generation…”

Dee Dee rolled off of Andrew’s chest until they were both laying on the bed, smiling and looking into each other’s eyes. We have just a wonderful love affair going. It’s truly amazing.

Dee Dee said, “Donnie let me catch my breath for a second. Why don’t you tell him about IAM.”

Andrew said, “Donnie come here. I want to hear all of this, but I would feel better if I could cuddle a little with you while you tell me.”

I didn’t need a second invitation. I lay down on the bed on the opposite side from Dee Dee. Andrew’s hand rested upon my tummy, a nice neutral spot to feel contact without raising the level of excitement. It felt wonderful. I saw that his other hand was resting on Dee Dee’s tummy as well. The boy just naturally understands how to push our buttons.

I began my story:

IAM: The Institute for the Advancement of Mankind is a foundation begun in Georgia before the War Between the States. There was a man named Howard Johns. He was extremely rich and fairly intelligent and had a large plantation inland from Savannah. 

He was a slave owner and raised quarter horses. Johns was not happy, however, because his three children, two boys, one girl, were wastrels and fools. He felt none worthy to carry on what he had created. By the time Johns saw his own end approaching, it had occurred to him that he had been cheated by life. The thing he respected most, intelligence, was missing from his descendents. 

Johns’ will was unusual though fairly straightforward. He felt obligated to care for his offspring, but left them only enough to live comfortably if they were frugal. (He didn’t think they would be.) 

He left the vast majority of his fortune to create the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. Its sole charter was to attempt to improve the average intelligence of humans. 

The board of the IAM foundation had no idea how to fulfill this charge. Science at that time (it was the 1850’s) knew little or nothing about genetics or the workings of the human mind.

But the Southern gentlemen who were the board of IAM knew how to breed things. They had been breeding dogs, horses, and slaves for hundreds of years for the purpose of forcing those possessions of theirs to develop more desirable characteristics.

It became obvious to them that the only way they knew to improve average intelligence was to breed for it. And that is what they did. 

Now at that time it was not easy even to test for intelligence. Generally the mind was looked at as a machine, and testing was based upon the speed of response to stimuli, visual acuity, things like that. 

Using those criteria, IAM began paying people to procreate. They sent representatives throughout the South, even into the North, to find and test seemingly intelligent people and then pay them to marry other seemingly intelligent people. Each time one of those couples had children, they received a certain amount of remuneration. That was the start.




Death By Fucking Ch. 09



The families that were to become the breeders developed from the offspring of the earliest of the IAM selectees. IAM tracked each family, one generation to the next, using the current level of intelligence tests to trace their progress. 

If a family gave birth to children who tested (using current methods obviously) low on the intelligence scale, they were culled from the program. Of course, exceptions were made for injury to children during birth, things not determined by breeding. Extra bonuses were paid to children of breeder families who married children of other breeder families. 

It is no surprise, I suppose, but this actually worked. Even today there are sperm banks holding the issue of geniuses and Nobel Prize winners, where women can have their eggs fertilized by the far end of the bell-shaped curve in intelligence. 

But something strange happened along the way. Perhaps it was mutation, perhaps it was evolution, but there developed a propensity among the families for the birth of female twins. In fact, when that started, those families who had that propensity never again gave birth to males. 

All other members of the families fell by the wayside, and the female twins became the focal point of the IAM foundation. By this time IQ tests were in vogue and it was found that the average IQ of each female twin was about 150, half again as much as the average of the population as a whole. 

But here is where things came to a halt. Each female twin bred true, if you know what I mean. Regardless of the father, that is, the father’s IQ, the mother gave birth to twins of approximately 150 IQ. But only one set of twins were born per generation per woman. 

The IAM foundation’s project has ground to a halt. It has been felt for quite some time that the twins were becoming a separate species from homo sapiens. But there were no males! We were now marrying into the general population, trying to achieve a breakout that has yet to come.

And by the way, most of the money is gone anyway, has been for quite a long time. They keep in touch with us, they try to help us if we are desperate, but they can do little else. We are on our own.

The twins families have been searching for years for signs that the population as a whole is issuing forth the males that will allow us to break through and out of the race of homo sapiens.

We believe there are such men out there. We even have developed a profile of the type of man most likely to fulfill our expectations as the progenitor of the next generation. 

We look for a man with extremely high intelligence, but whose social skills developed very late in life. In other words we are looking for a man who seems to have had an extended childhood. We are looking for a man who doesn’t fit in to sapiens society. 

Andrew, we told you a little of this last night. Homo sapiens have been around for 150 thousand years, but have only become ‘civilized’ in the last ten thousand years, perhaps even less. We have to deal with 140 thousand years of being a hunter gatherer, of needing to be a killer, of fighting against the odds in a world where man was small, weak and vulnerable. 

Of course because of his intelligence and his ability to cooperate, man became the greatest hunter on earth. But ingrained in the very essence of the sapiens experience is the feeling that one must be the aggressor to survive. 

Even the teachings of the early ‘civilized’ humans taught man the very same lessons. Be fruitful and multiply. Have dominion over the land and the beasts. These were rules established when there were less than 50 million humans on the face of the earth, when wild creatures regularly killed and ate unguarded humans.

They were rules established by illiterate sheep herders whose lives were a daily struggle for their very existence. 

But the times have changed, Andrew. Man’s numbers now exceed 6 billion. We live on every continent, in every nook and cranny of the earth. Our dominion over the land and the beasts has become a burden on the world. 

The times have changed, but sapiens have not. Sapiens are the products of their evolution and they no longer fit into the world that they themselves have created. Unless the next generation springs forth from the loins of men, a generation that does not feel the need to hunt, to acquire, to hold dominion, then mankind and the beasts of the field are doomed to extinction. 

So the man we are looking for is one who doesn’t belong in the world created by Sapiens. He is a man who can live in a world that is shared by all, not grabbed by the strong at the expense of the weak. He is a man who can live with and nurture the beasts of the field, be not a user but a steward of the environment.

That’s you, Andrew. If Dee Dee or I are pregnant, that will be the proof we need. But both of us can feel it already. We are different, somehow. You are it. You are us. You are the progenitor of the next generation.

Andrew’s Story – 2

Okay! So I’m the provider of the seed, the loins from which is going to spring the next evolutionary stage of man. I don’t think so. Donnie’s story was a lulu I’ll admit it. But if it is as she says it is, no wonder they aren’t making any progress.

“Girls, are you telling me that you are randomly looking for men who may be in evolutionary synch with the twins families in order to propagate homo whatever? You’re serious, right?”

Dee Dee said, “Of course we’re serious. That is our purpose in life, Andrew. We are the breeders.”

Donnie was now playing with my cock again. They seem to be fascinated by it. Now I like to have toys too, but I don’t have to be playing with them all of the time. Damn, her hand is so soft and her touch so gentle. I could feel myself beginning to rise again. This is getting ridiculous.

Donnie said, “Homo whatever. We don’t have a name picked out for the next species. Dee Dee, why don’t we call it homo erectus, in honor of Andrew?”

I said, “Sorry that name has already been taken, and anyway it sounds like a horny hairdresser.”

I continued, “The boys in Vegas would say you’re trying to make your point the hard way.” 

Dee Dee said ,”What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re going about this all wrong. You are hoping for random chance to find these men of the future. You should have them coming to you.”

Donnie didn’t get it. “How in the world would we do that?”

“Donnie this is the twenty-first century. We’ve been to the moon, we have remote control dongles for our televisions, and we have the internet. Let’s set up a website.”

Dee Dee asked “What kind of a website? How would anyone find us there?”

I was in my element now. “Well, we could set up a dating service. The Really Smart People dating service. We could screen all applicants till we find the people who are most likely to fit your little profile. How many twins are we talking about anyway? Do we have enough to make a go of something like this?”

Donnie said, “Oh there are at least twenty thousand of us now. More than half of those are of age to give birth and maybe sixty percent of those aren’t married.”

They could have inspected my teeth for cavities, my mouth was so wide open. “Twenty thousand twin girls in Georgia and nobody noticed?”

Donnie shook her head. “I told you we aren’t all in Georgia. We don’t all look alike. We maintain a very low profile. If you weren’t looking for us, how would you find us?”

“Okay, so you are saying we have something like six thousand girls who could be part of this dating service. That’s pretty good. What about the married ones? Say they’ve already had their twin girls. Would they still be interested in having more children?”

Dee Dee said, “Of course, most of them would. We were brought up to be breeders after all. It has never occurred to us that once we had our first pair of twins we could ever have more.”

I smiled. “Well, there you go. I could set up a RSMILF website.”

Donnie didn’t get it. “What does that stand for, RSMILF?”

“Really Smart Mothers I’d Love to Fuck.” 

Dee Dee grimaced. “That is disgusting, Andrew. How in the world did you think of something so gross?”

“Baby, this is the internet. We would only be adhering to standard procedures. We could set up assignations between total strangers (as long as the men fit your profile) and maybe we would be getting some more babies in the bargain. You’ve got to take advantage of the prevailing technology. Wishing and hoping isn’t going to do it.”

I had them now. “Girls we can jump start this evolutionary thing, assuming it’s true. If there are men like you hope for running around out there, we can find them. Hey, maybe I can hack into Mensa. We could get a copy of their membership database. They are so arrogant they probably are running a Microsoft Access database with little or no security. Or if you are old fashioned, you could ask to buy their database.”

Donnie looked shocked with me. “What do you mean arrogant? We are Mensa members, you know. You would probably qualify easily, Andrew. Why don’t you join?”

“I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members. No thanks. I’ll maintain my anonymity, if you don’t mind.” 

“Let’s face it girls, all of this is predicated on the possibility of you being pregnant. If not, then all bets are off. This should be an interesting week.”



Death By Fucking Ch. 10



He said, “But dreaming isn’t nearly as good as the real thing where you are concerned.”

Donnie took the phone from him. “Dee Dee, don’t let that man talk you into anything. We’re supposed to be the ones seducing him, not the other way around. Andrew, stop it! No! Ohhh! Lower, go lower, baby! Uh, Dee Dee, I’ve got to get off now. That beast just will not leave me alone, thank God!”

Yep. I figured that if Andrew had orally pleasured Donnie, he was just warming her up for the main event. His warm ups would kill most women. His main event is what made me understand the term ‘Death by Fucking’.

I was thinking of that on the plane ride home. We are ready to birth the next generation, the ones who will replace the current species of human as the dominant life form on earth. That’s the theory, anyway. If our children, or their children, or our children’s children’s children are indeed a separate species, then they will slowly displace homo sapiens. 

But they won’t do it as sapiens did to Neanderthals. We won’t kill them off. We will love them to death. We will replace them one at a time, we will nurture those that remain, and then love the current human race to death.

Homo sapiens won’t be exterminated by war. It will be death by fucking.



Death By Fucking Ch. 11



Andrew’s Story-Meeting Mom

I may look back on this year and say ‘that’s when it all started’. It might be the year that things changed just for me. Or it might be the year that things changed for the whole world. 

This might be the Year Zero. This could be our Genesis. Some future historians will look back and mark 2003 A.D. as the start of the new calendar, the third era of mankind. Naahh!

If I talk to people about this they will think I am nuts. They already think I’m nuts, going from no woman to two women almost overnight. 

My Mother! Oh, boy was this a shock to her? I thought of introducing Dee Dee and Donnie to her separately to lessen the surprise, make things go down a little more smoothly. But I realized that she just wouldn’t believe that there were two different women involved. She would think I was making some strange joke at her expense, yanking her chain for no apparent reason. 

Now she knows I’m not joking. We walked into the old homestead up in Canton. It was never much, and it looks even less now. Mom owns one of those duplex-type houses on about a half-acre of land. It’s the kind that you own both halves, but live in one half and rent out the other. 

After Dad died, that income came in real handy for Mom. It’s a nice setup for her, but bringing the girls home to Mom isn’t an exercise in affluence. One can’t pretend that my other house is a mansion. 

The girls seemed perfectly happy with my old digs. But ‘perfectly happy’ is not the term I would apply to Mom when I brought these two beautiful but identical girls into her living room and told her that I was spending the rest of my life with both of them.

I had called and told her I was coming; told her I was bringing guests; told her it was very important. I have no idea what she expected, but I bet it wasn’t this.

Mom greeted us at the door. I gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then led all four of us into the living room. I wanted Mom sitting down for this one. We took seats, Mom in her favorite chair, the girls on the couch, and me in the recliner that my Dad used to watch football games in. 

“Mom I want to introduce Deirdre and Donnie Martin.”

Mom looked a little unsure of herself, but smiled and said “Oh, aren’t you lovely! Are you twins?” She was always a few cans short of a six-pack.

Dee Dee said, “Yes, Mrs. Adkins, we are. This is my sister, Donnie, and I’m Deirdre. Please call me Dee Dee.”

Well that was a lost cause. Mom would probably end up calling them both Dee Dee. She had trouble remembering my name, and there is only one of me.

I could see Mom was confused – not an unusual state for her. “Andrew, I’ve always wondered if you would ever bring a girl home. I’ve never wondered if you would bring two girls home at the same time. Is there something I should know?”

Maybe she’s not so dumb after all. It could have been that both girls were looking at me with a bit of a possessive air. They appeared serenely calm and lovely. I on the other hand was a nervous wreck.

“Eh, Mom, Dee Dee and Donnie and I are like, uh, a permanent thing, if you know what I mean.”

Mom said, “No, Andrew, I don’t know what you mean. What exactly does ‘a permanent thing’ mean?”

The girls took over, seeing that I was uncomfortable and coming across as if I were a teenager meeting his girl’s father for the first time. This was my mother after all. I’m the one who has to tell her that her son is a pervert.

Donnie said, “Mrs. Adkins, Dee Dee and I have fallen in love with your son.”

Dee Dee said, “We know it’s unconventional, but it just happened, and we are too in love with him to end it because it doesn’t adhere to convention.”

‘Convention’, ‘unconventional’, ‘adhere’ – I wasn’t sure this was the approach to take with my mother who sometimes gets confused by Bob Barker on The Price is Right. But Mom seemed to be following. Maybe it’s a woman thing.

Mom appeared to be catching on. “There are two of you. Andrew wants you both? Isn’t that a bit greedy, Andrew? You are both very lovely, but, ahem, isn’t there an age difference?”

I said “Mom, there isn’t anything you can say that we haven’t already thought of. We know there’s an age difference. We know that there are in fact two women involved. Those are things we are going to have to live with. I’m very happily living with them right now.”

“You are already living together? Oh my! Are there, well, are there marriage plans in the future. Please, Andrew, tell me you only plan to marry one of them. No offense, ladies.”

The girls smiled that eye-lighting smile of theirs. Donnie said “Don’t worry Mrs. Adkins, Andrew will only marry Dee Dee. But I will still be living with him. We are going to be legal, so don’t worry about that. But I will be giving birth to your grandchildren too.”

Donnie said the right thing as always. Mom had been worrying about me for years: no girlfriend, no wife, no children, no grandchildren. She might have been overwhelmed by the sudden abundance of girlfriends, but the thought of grandchildren was enough to slow down the judgment process. 

Mom said “Oh. Grandchildren! You girls plan on having children? I thought that you were perhaps a little old, no offense, but maybe the biological clock was winding down.”

Dee Dee said, “Mrs. Adkins, we are both pregnant. We are in our first trimester, but before long you will be a grandmother again.”

Mom turned to Donnie. “Oh my! Well it appears that a marriage is in order. Dee Dee, will you be the one marrying my Andrew? Or will it be the other, what’s her name again?”

Donnie said “It’s Donnie. Me. I’m Donnie. Dee Dee is my sister and yes, she will be the one marrying Andrew.”

Mom said, “Oh, this is all very confusing, isn’t it.” She looked at Dee Dee. “How do you feel about your sister marrying Andrew? Won’t you be jealous?”

Dee Dee said, “I’m Dee Dee and I’m marrying Andrew. But Donnie won’t be jealous. It doesn’t matter which of us has the legal document. We are both married to him in our hearts even now.”

Mom was talking herself into a circle. “You’re both married to him? Isn’t that illegal? Perhaps you had better check with a lawyer about all of this. I’m sure I don’t know what I would do if I had two husbands to take care of. Andrew are you sure about all of this?”

I said, “Mom, Dee Dee was saying that we may as well be married, because we are so committed to each other. Get it? We aren’t married yet. I am going to have a legal document saying that I am married to Dee Dee. But Donnie and I will act like we are married because we will be, in our hearts.”

Mom decided to take her usual approach to things that confused her. She punted. “That’s nice dear. Would anyone like some iced tea?”

Donnie’s Story

We had our first argument the other day. It was more a discussion than an argument, I suppose, but there was certainly a difference of opinion.

Andrew knows perfectly well that Dee Dee and I are vegetarians. Granted, we will eat seafood occasionally, and we will eat dairy. We still consider ourselves vegetarians. We would be pleased if Andrew would join us in this, though we really can’t force him to do it. 

But I suppose we became a bit strident when Andrew went to the drive-thru at McDonalds and brought home a Big Mac for his lunch. We of course were having a salad: watercress and assorted greens with a light dressing topped with crumbled goat cheese. 

Dee Dee was trying to make Andrew understand our feelings about meat. “Andrew, do you realize the number of acres it takes to grow beef? Do you know how many more acres it takes to grow beef than it does to grow an equivalent amount of vegetables?”

Andrew answered, “No. Do you?”

That wasn’t the right answer. “What I know or don’t know is irrelevant. You are eating yourself into an early grave, supporting the worst excesses of corporate America. This food you are eating is poison! You’re turning into a junk food junkie, Andrew Adkins!”

Andrew wouldn’t take that lying down. He said, “Now hold on, little lady. You can say what you want about me. But you just better watch your tongue about the Big Mac. I’ll have you know that the Big Mac is America. Many of life’s greatest moments play out on a stage with a Big Mac in the background. I’m proud to say that I got a blowjob while eating a Big Mac. More than one. The Big Mac has been there for me.

I fully intend to be there for it when Communists and environmental weirdoes like you attempt to destroy an American icon! 

Did you know that the Big Mac is a semi-official unit of measure? Did you ever look at a package of food, and it says there are six grams of fat? Is that a lot of fat? Or is that just a little fat? I have no idea. What the hell is a gram? They might as well say that the package of food has .0000325 metric tons of fat. The number is just meaningless to me. 

But some enterprising newsperson or academic came up with the concept of using the Big Mac as a unit of measure, the criteria by which all fat-enriched foods can be compared. Suddenly everyone knew how much fat we were talking about. Everyone is familiar with the Big Mac and its fat content. 

So when some nutritional expert says that your little watercress salad with the water and vinegar dressing and a pound and a half of crumbled goat cheese has three times the fat of a Big Mac, then everyone is on the same page! 

You might say ‘the hell with it’ and eat the salad anyway. But you also might realize the insanity of it all and go ahead and eat three Big Macs instead. Suddenly you’ve got options, choices. This country was founded on choices.

It’s people like you who would undermine the very fabric of America by eliminating the Big Mac, or worse, turning it into a tofu burger. 

When you bad-mouth the Big Mac, you are bad-mouthing America. Well I am not just going to stand here and listen to you bad-mouth the United States of America!”

And with that he exited the kitchen and went down to the den to watch Ohio State play Michigan State while eating a Big Mac and drinking a beer. As I walked by the den on the way to the living room, Andrew yelled “Hey Donnie, what are your plans for half time?”

Andrew has learned to slip sex into every available waking moment. His is a time schedule juggler par excellence. Half time of the ball game is one of my favorite times to have sex.

If it’s a good game, Andrew will plan our orgasms to start just before the kickoff in the second half. If the game stinks, then Andrew will with a little encouragement forget the second half and give someone a good hard fuck.

I really love a bad football game. 

Dee Dee’s Story

Andrew is such a dear. He is willing to do just about anything for us, and being pregnant, we have no qualms about asking him for anything. That does not include running out to the grocery store at 2 o’clock in the morning for pickles and ice cream. I have no idea where that whole thing came from. I’ve yet to have a craving for pickles. I don’t like pickles. 

But we are eating a lot. My God, I’ve gained thirty pounds. I am a blimp. So is Donnie. Isn’t it odd that pregnant we continue to look alike, even to the size of our waistline? 

Andrew is probably happy that our breasts have been getting bigger, but he won’t admit it. My cup size has gone from A to B. He was playing baby with me last night. (It’s just a little game he came up with, where he spends a lot of time suckling on my nipple, then tries to go back into my womb, penis first.) Andrew does have issues, but we try to play along with him. After all, he is trying to service two horny pregnant women. 

Anyway, he was suckling on my nipple (this is a game I really like), when I mentioned that he must love all the additional material he has to work with, now that my cup size has increased. 

He repeated that old saw, “Anything larger than a mouth-full is a waste.”

I wasn’t buying that. “Andrew, why don’t you just admit that you’ve learned to live with small boobs, but would prefer something larger? We won’t be offended and we wont be surprised.”

Andrew actually laughed. “You two are sure hung up on the size of your tits, aren’t you? How have you bought into this American obsession with size? It’s designed to make women feel inadequate, when they are perfectly adequate. You, my dear, are the most perfectly adequate woman I’ve ever met. Your tits are two of your best features. I revel in your tits. I could live off of your tits. If you don’t have twins, I plan to use one side myself. If it weren’t for your eyes, your face, your hair, your ass and your legs, I would be looking at nothing but your tits all of the time. Oh, yeah, your back and your shoulders warrant a lot of my attention too. Did you ever hear that Gallagher line: Why do women wear a pair of panties but only one bra?”

I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him back to my nipple. Andrew is one of these people who given the opportunity can talk and talk and talk. He seems incapable of winding down on his own sometime. I’ve found the best way to stop him is to stick my tit in his mouth. It’s pleasant for both of us. I only hope our baby is half as eager as Andrew is. 

We’ve had an exciting few months together. Andrew and I got married in a civil ceremony. Even though I was a church member while growing up, I really have no religious affiliation at this time. Andrew, of course, is an agnostic. He claims it is difficult for him to believe in anything at all, let alone some God-thing. 

We were talking to Mrs. Adkins (I still have trouble thinking of that dear little lady as ‘Mom’.) She mentioned that he sang in a boy’s choir when he was little. That I would have loved to see. He had a beautiful soprano voice, according to her. We even listened to a tape they had made of the choir. After he had been in the choir a while (he was 9), his father asked Andrew how he liked it. 

Andrew said, “It’s great except for that God thing.” That’s our Andrew. 

So we had a civil ceremony. Donnie was the maid of honor. We wore the same outfits, the same shoes (Donnie and I). At some point in the ceremony when the J.P. wasn’t looking, we casually switched places. No one noticed except Andrew. He always knows who is who. He was glad. It was like we were both marrying him. Donnie was the one who got to say, “I do.” 

We spent our honeymoon in Niagara Falls. Since we got married in Canton to allow Andrew’s mother to attend our little wedding ceremony, it was only about a four hour drive. None of us had ever been there, and Andrew thought the idea was so corny that it was cool (his words) so away we went. 

We rode the boat under the falls and spent the rest of the time in our hotel making love. It was just a typical honeymoon. 

It’s always been my contention that a honeymoon is not a time to go someplace special. One spends the whole time in bed anyway. Why waste time and money going somewhere that you aren’t even going to have time to enjoy? 

Of course, who am I to think such things? A honeymoon was the last thing I expected to go on. 

And yet here we are married to a man we never even dreamed of. We never imagined this kind of happiness was possible for us. Our needs were so unusual, and after all, we were of a certain age. How could we even hope for such an outcome? And then we found Andrew. I don’t believe in fate, and I don’t believe that evolution has any predetermined path. But if neither of those things is true, then how is all of this possible?

After Andrew quit his job and moved down to Cincinnati to be with us, we established a firm rule about our sleeping habits. Andrew would alternate bedrooms, spending one night with Donnie and then the next with me. It was a simple and elegant solution. There was only one problem.

None of us liked it. Once you have your husband in bed, you want him there permanently. I know I did. So did Donnie. And Andrew complained almost immediately that he didn’t like not going to bed with whoever he wasn’t going to bed with that night. 

There really was only one solution: buy a bigger bed. That’s what we did. And from that point forward, we all slept together. Our rule about male-female only remains unbending. 

And almost all of the time our sex is still just one on one. In the mornings Donnie and I like to wake Andrew up with a blowjob sometimes; well, most of the time. But in the evenings it’s no oral sex for dear Andrew. We wouldn’t want to tire him out, poor dear. After all, he does each of us almost every night. 

We are two horny pregnant girls. We’ve found this man who somehow is very good at pleasing two horny pregnant girls over and over again, night after night, week after week. We watch a lot less television than we used to.

Andrew’s Story IAM what I am

It occurred to me that standing behind the entire ‘next generation’ myth is that mysterious organization the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. The girls had told me that it helped the twin families as much as it could but was running out of cash. We knew its history, but what is its present?

The girls said that once a year they received a mimeographed report that listed statistics such as the number of births in the current year, number of births to date, and number of current living twins. I asked them if they didn’t think it a bit odd that this organization was sending out its report on a mimeographed form. They said that the thought never crossed their minds.

The annual IAM newsletter listed a Georgia address, some town called Statesboro. We decided that we should visit this bastion of the future, the next great hope for mankind.

It’s something like seven hundred miles from Cincinnati to Statesboro. That is a trek. I’ll admit that if I hadn’t been in the same car with two incredibly beautiful women I might have been bored out of my mind. Instead I spent two straight days being horny. 

We made about 500 miles on Interstate 75 the first day and stopped somewhere near Atlanta. By the time we got there I was so horny I had no choice but to monkey fuck both of my beautiful wives. I mean they sit in that car and make their little subtle movements. Flashing me some leg then flashing me some tit, and suddenly I’m trying to look up someone’s skirt or down her top. 

I’m their husband, damn it. You’d think I wouldn’t be getting a thrill from peaking at them when they aren’t looking. But I do. They know it and they play me. It gives them some kind of perverse pleasure to know that they are driving me nuts. I personally don’t find it that amusing.

So we camped out at one of those vanilla inns that are dotting the landscape of America. They are all the same. There was a time in this country when there was character on the back roads. That was before McDonalds and Burger King, Taco Belle and KFC, Wal-Mart and Kmart, Comfort Inn and Hampton Inn and Sleep Inn and every other derivative Inn name that these guys can think of. They can think of different names but still end up with the same damn Inn. 

You used to drive through a small town in Ohio or Pennsylvania and see something. There was a town square, maybe. There were all the nice little locally owned stores that made up Main Street. There were quirky little restaurants which had been in the family for forty years. 

But then the big chains came in. They built the mall outside of town where the land is cheap and there is plenty of parking. They put up the damn strip shopping centers where the malls wouldn’t fit. They brought in their fast food places. And for the upscale people they brought in the upscale food chains to insure you could get the same damn dinner in Portland Oregon or Portland Maine. 

They ripped the guts out of the small towns of America by underselling the local ma and pa stores till they were forced to go out of business. Now the center of most every town has vacancies and charitable organizations where clothing stores and restaurants used to be. And the interstate that was brought through to make things easier just makes it easier for people to bypass the town altogether. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 11



We are watching the ruination and homogenization of America. I don’t even mind so much that things are the same. But why was the bar set so low? Why is this a lowest common denominator America? What happened to the country that was once so great, so varied, so original? 

I don’t want to get out of bed at my hotel in the morning and not be able to tell if I’m in Georgia or Michigan. I don’t want sameness. Fuck sameness. 

The next morning we put in a couple of hundred miles I guess, using the very same interstate highway that I so detest in theory but can’t avoid using in practice. Hypocrisy thy name is Andrew. We picked up I16 somewhere south of Atlanta and took it almost all the way to Statesboro. 

Well the IAM isn’t actually in Statesboro. It’s like in suburban Statesboro. That’s kind of like saying that it isn’t in the middle of nowhere, it’s in a suburb of the middle of nowhere. It turns out that the foundation is located in the original plantation of the very same Howard Johns who founded IAM over 160 years ago. I bet it looked better then.

How was I able to drive right to IAM? One word: Mapquest. Or is that two words? So we found this obscure old dilapidated mansion with multiple acres of land, all of which needed care. The place looked like it had weathered one too many hurricanes.

There was a large front porch with huge Grecian columns – with the paint pealing off. By the door was a discrete sign which read “The Institute for the Advancement of Mankind” in letters too small to read unless you walked right up to it. Donnie opened the door.

We walked into the main hallway of this antebellum mess. Dust was everywhere. The rug which covered the floor was worn and frayed. There was an open door to our left and we could see an old desk sitting in the middle of a small office. Behind the desk was a little old lady with gray hair held in a bun. Her wire-rimmed glasses gave her a bit of a John Lennon look. She was wearing a high collared dress with a crocheted shawl around her shoulders. 

I couldn’t begin to guess her age, but she had to be eighty if she was a day. When she spoke her voice wavered. Her lips seemed to be stuck together. I wondered when the last time she spoke was.

“May I help you?” the old lady asked.

I walked up to her desk. “We’re looking for the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. I assume this is it. Could we talk to the person in charge?”

The lady look surprised. “This is the Institute. You saw the sign didn’t you? What business do you have here?” She seemed to notice Donnie and Deirdre for the first time. “Oh, are you two of the twins?”

Dee Dee nodded her head. “Yes, ma’am. We are Donna and Deirdre Martin. At least we were. Now I am Deirdre Adkins. And who might you be?”

The old lady replied, “I’m Doris Johns. If you want to know who runs the institute, you are looking at her.”

I noticed an ancient mimeograph machine sitting in a corner of the small office. There were several rickety filing cabinets arrayed across the back wall. A manual Remington typewriter was perched upon the desk. I idly wondered how much all of this would fetch on the Antiques Roadshow. 

Doris suddenly moved from behind the desk and it was then I realized that she hadn’t been sitting down. The woman was about 4’ 8”. 

I said, “Ms. Johns, where is everyone else? Who helps you with all of this? After all, you send flyers to forty thousand people.”

“I do it myself, young man. Do ya’ll see anyone else? I only send out about ten to twelve thousand flyers, since I send one per pair of twins, and I don’t send any to children. Their mothers can keep them informed. I do about 1000 a month. That and keeping track of births and deaths has kept me busy these last sixty years.”

Donnie spoke up. “But mathematically this is getting worse every year, isn’t it? How will you be able to carry the increased workload as more babies are born and grow up? And pardon me for saying so Ms. Johns, but aren’t you getting on in years?”

Doris cracked a smile. It looked like the expression was superimposed on a piece of plaster. This is a woman who rarely smiles. “I’m only eighty-five. I’ve got a few good years left. But this is a boring job. I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland, but I just can’t afford to take the time off. And there isn’t a lot of money anyway.”

Dee Dee asked her, “Isn’t there anyone else to help you? Who is going to take your place when you retire? Really, Ms. Johns, you shouldn’t be working at your age. You should be enjoying your leisure time.”

Doris said, “Somebody has to do it. Since my husband died I’m the only one left. I’m afraid that when I go that will be the end of the institute. Anyway, what are you doing here? I’ve never gotten a visitor who didn’t want money. Well, I don’t have any money to give you. I’m sorry, but it’s all gone. I’ve barely enough to live on and pay the taxes on this monstrosity of a house that my husband left me.”

Donnie said, “We aren’t here for money, Mrs. Johns. We are sight-seeing, really. We just wanted to come here and see how things were being handled. But it seems to us you need help. Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Doris actually laughed. It sounded like sandpaper rubbing across a blackboard. “You can buy me out, that’s what you can do! Got ya, didn’t I? You didn’t expect that, did you young lady?”

My mind was whirling. The thought occurred to me that if this ‘next generation’ thing was going to get off of the ground, Doris Johns was not the person to get it airborne. Maybe I wasn’t either, but at least I had a longer life expectancy.

“Mrs. Johns, what would it take to buy you out? We might be interested in running the institute ourselves. After all, we are already part of it.” I didn’t look at either Donnie or Dee Dee, assuming they were aghast at my foolishness.

“Well, young man (and what is your name, anyway?) I’m not so sure. I’ve got to live, you know. I want to do a bit of traveling since I’ve never been further than Atlanta to the west and Savannah to the east. And I can’t keep up this old house let alone take care of the lawns. Make me an offer. But if you aren’t sincere about running the institute, then don’t bother.”

I thought it was time to cover my ass. “Sorry for the lack of introductions. I’m Andrew Adkins. Mrs. Johns, let me talk to my two associates here before we go any further. We really just came to see the institute. We hadn’t any intention of buying it. We’ll go outside and talk things over, if that is alright with you.”

With that, the three of us went outside and walked around the grounds. Dee Dee was the first to voice her concerns. “Andrew, are you out of your fucking mind? How are you going to run the institute? You don’t even know what it does. You don’t know what information they have. What about this house? It looks like it hasn’t been painted since the depression.”

I said, “But how do you feel about it?”

Donnie actually defended my position. “Andrew might be right. If we don’t do something, IAM is dead. If IAM is dead then any chance for the next generation is dead with it.”

I added, “We’ve got to find out if this little burg can get high speed internet access. Can’t do it without high speed access, you know.”

Dee Dee asked “Is that some sort of fetish with you? We’re thinking about changing our entire lives and you’re talking about high speed access?”

I tried to be reasonable. “It’s true. We cannot do it without high speed access. It’s a major consideration, because our primary method of dealing with the twin population would be on the internet. I know I don’t plan to send out ten thousand mimeographed flyers every year.”

Donnie said “Let’s talk money. How much should we be prepared to offer that little old lady? Let’s face it, this ‘mansion’ here is no prize. It will cost us a bundle just to make it livable. So Andrew, how much do you have to put into this?”

I grimaced. “Donnie you know I was just a lowly computer geek. I’ve got maybe 40 grand put away. How much do you think the old bat will need?”

Dee Dee and Donnie are the business experts in the family. I don’t know from nothing related to business. They, on the other hand, are PhD candidates. I’ve no illusions related to who should be making the final decisions about the family business. 

Deirdre decided to be less negative. “Right now Doris has nothing. We have no idea what she has in the bank, but her only real assets are this tumble-down plantation and the IAM mailing list. Let’s bargain with her. If we bought the place outright from her, where would she go? She would have to turn around and buy another house and try to take care of it. The woman is eight-five years old. She can’t be starting a new life like that now.”

Donnie picked up the line of reasoning. “We can make her an offer she can’t refuse. Let’s give her two options. Option one: find an assisted living facility where she can be taken care of and be with other old people. We can pay for her way into the facility and guarantee the monthly fee for the remainder of her life. And we could give her enough cash on top of that to travel a bit as well. Option two: we can let her stay in this house with us for the remainder of her life; with free room and board along with a healthy chunk of cash to let her travel. It seems to me that either of those options would be far better than her present situation.”

I said, “How much is a healthy chunk of cash? And how much is option one really going to cost? Can we afford option one and still rebuild this old house?”

Dee Dee chimed in. “Let’s talk it over with Doris. Let’s find out what it will take.”

So we walked back into the house to find Doris back at her desk, doing whatever she does. We let Donnie repeat what she had thought of. Donnie finished by saying, “We can write an air-tight contract so you can be sure that you will be taken care of for the rest of your life. You can give it to your lawyer and have him sign off on it. This is an awfully abrupt decision for us. We certainly had no intention of trying to take over the institute when we came down here. But the work you are doing is so important to us that we are willing to change our lives to make sure that it continues.”

Dee Dee said, “Doris, does any of this appeal to you? Do you have children? What are your thoughts?”

Doris gave us that granite look with the superimposed smile. “I have no children. My needs aren’t very great. I certainly don’t want to live with a bunch of old people. I’ve always been very comfortable right here, though I will admit that it needs a bit of repair.”

I said, “Yes it does need a bit of repair. We are very aware of that fact. But do you like option two then? Could you set a dollar figure that you would be happy with?”

Doris actually gave us a real smile. “Tell you what young’uns, Write up your contract. Instead of a fixed dollar amount, guarantee me two trips a year to any place in the continental US. Then give me time to think it over.”

Donnie said, “Okay. But let’s make it the Western Hemisphere. You might want to go to Mexico or the Caribbean or even Canada. You can watch over us to make sure we are doing it right. Oh, and Andrew says the deal is contingent on us having high speed internet access.”

Doris asked, “What’s internet access?”

And that’s how we became IAM. It didn’t cost us a penny out of pocket! Oh, of course we had to spend over a hundred and thirty grand to renovate the place. It needed a new roof. Who woulda guessed? 

It had to be painted. The plumbing was designed by the Marquis de Sade. Yes there was cable access. So we converted one of the downstairs rooms into a computer center. We took a wall out between two bedrooms upstairs to make a room for the three of us. 

Yes, by this time we had decided to combine our sleeping arrangements. It was just too difficult not to sleep with both of them. I’m not talking sex, I’m talking emotional comfort. So we have this enormous bed. I sleep in the middle and Donnie and Dee Dee sleep on each side. 

My favorite position is when they both cuddle up to me with a head on each shoulder. Cuddling two pregnant women at once is sensory overload in action, especially in the morning when I wake up to two beautiful girls going down on me. 

Donnie’s Story

We’ve had to make some concessions to our pregnancy, now that we are so far along. It’s just more and more difficult for Andrew to be on top, if you know what I mean. 

I like being on top myself. My tits are bigger and more sensitive than they were before. When I’m on top (especially at the start of our lovemaking) Andrew can spend much more time taking care of my tits. It feels so good. 

I can tell that Andrew is getting nervous about the impending birth. He’s never been with a pregnant woman before, and from his perspective we look like we could give birth at any second. We are big.

Andrew was going down on me. I love it when he goes down on me. He has an amazing tongue, does our Andrew. He starts so slowly, licking my thighs, feeling my tits, avoiding my center until I have to demand that he pay attention to my pussy. He can be very cruel that way. He likes to hear us beg.

But when he finally reaches my pussy! It hurts so good. To feel that long tongue of his sliding deep inside me! God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world. And then he starts with my clitoris. He always avoids my clit until I almost have to force him to pay attention to it. 

He was being his typical torturing self, drawing out my pleasure, avoiding my climax, making me crazy. It suddenly occurred to me that I could exact a measure of revenge. I was close, but I knew it was too early from Andrew’s point of view. He was going to bring me up only to bring me down a little. It isn’t that I mind so much. After all, when he does this my climax is beyond belief. But I just wanted to tweak him a little bit. 

He was head first between my legs, licking my pussy, occasionally sucking my clit between his licks (I love that one). Suddenly I cried out, “Andrew! My water’s breaking”

He dove off of the bed onto the floor. Perhaps he was afraid of drowning in amniotic fluid. It was so funny! I was laughing, my tits were bouncing, Andrew first looked confused, then angry. 

He said, “So your water isn’t breaking, is it?”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “If it makes you feel better, I have to pee.” And with that I hopped out of bed and waddled into the bathroom. I did have to pee. 

I came back into bed, still laughing. I’m not sure that Andrew saw the humor in the situation. I made him lie on his back and climbed right on. And then I had what I’ve come to think of as a laugh fuck. 

Maybe I’m perverted. Or maybe it harkens back to the first night I met Andrew. We had been caught in the act by Deirdre as she came out of her shower. That was when Andrew didn’t even know that I existed. 

When he finally understood the situation, that he had made love to me thinking I was Dee Dee, he started to laugh. He was still deeply imbedded in my pussy. And Andrew goes deeper than any man I had known before. 

But then he started to make jokes about the situation: this was a world record for meeting, fucking and coming to orgasm. It may have been a world record, but meanwhile we were still firmly linked together by that magnificent dick. And he was laughing. And I guess maybe I was laughing too. 

And the laughter felt so good as his rock hard manhood massaged the walls of my pussy. It made short stabbing motions, like little explosions inside me. Right in mid-laughter I climaxed. That might have been another world’s record, I don’t know.

It was a laugh fuck. So here we were again, Andrew inserting that long fat dick of his into my pussy. Well, perhaps it was me doing the inserting. He was flat on his back. 

Even though he had looked a little foolish diving onto the floor (very foolish come to think of it), he maintained his erection. I’m beginning to think it is an aberration of Andrew’s. No one can maintain an erection like Andrew can. When he is with us, just a flash of thigh, or perhaps a look at our derriere, and Andrew is hard. We do play with him that way. He tortures us with his tongue. We torture him by making his dick rise and fall. At some point it refuses to fall, and that’s when the game ends.

It feels so good to be impaled on Andrew’s dick. I’m just a big fat thing, but Andrew doesn’t seem to mind. And I was laughing. It was so funny watching him hit the floor. He’s so gullible sometimes. It’s hard to believe that he can be so innocent when he is so smart. 

I got into a laughing jag. I do that sometimes, especially now that I’m pregnant. My emotions are a bit out of control. There I was, riding Andrew, laughing while my tits bounced (before they couldn’t bounce), and my pussy jiggled up and down on his enormous erection. How is it possible to laugh and cum at the same time? Believe me, it is.

I was laughing, and then I was screaming. Andrew hadn’t been laughing until then (I think his feelings were hurt by my little practical joke). But when I screamed, then he started to laugh. I guess he thought I looked funny.

God it felt good. His laughter was pushing me higher and higher. I started squeezing his dick with my pussy, applying more and more pressure as his dick moved in short spastic strokes.

I leaned forward and then Andrew’s dick was massaging my clitoris. I was in heaven! I couldn’t help myself. I ground against him, our pubic bones tight against each other. I was trying to maximize the sensation and it was sensational. 

Suddenly Andrew’s hips plunged up, lifting my fat pregnant body six inches off of the bed, still fully impaled on his gorgeous cock. It was too much. I was screaming again. I felt him spurt inside me. I tried to make it last. I was screaming and grinding, grinding and screaming. My eyes were closed, my head swinging back and forth. God I must look like hell. 

And then it was over. I collapsed; a huge pregnant thing on my loving husband’s chest. He put his arms around me, pulling me tighter to him. He loves me! 

I’m fat and disgusting but he thinks I’m sexy. We cuddled for a long time, just enjoying the closeness. I love the feel of his skin, so soft and child-like. But beneath the softness are the muscles of a man. He only shows his soft side to us.

I knew that later tonight it would be Deirdre’s turn. I envied her, knowing that she would get to be close to our lover. I know I’m being greedy. I get more sex than the vast majority of women. How many women get laid almost every day of their lives? And get eaten out a minimum of several times a week? And try every possible sexual position (currently limited by our pregnant status)? 

And there are two of us. By simple mathematics it is easy to see that Andrew gets twice as much sex as I do. I just don’t know how he does it. No wonder he’s so relaxed. If I were him I would be comatose. We’ve got to get what we can now, because in a few more weeks the sex will have to stop. 

Poor Andrew, cut off in the prime of his life. I hope he really really likes blow jobs.



Death By Fucking Ch. 12



Chapter 12: Children of the Damned

This one’s for Shadowhawk, who is keeping me honest.

Andrew’s Story Telempathy

It happened one night. I had been going down on Dee Dee, giving her one of my patented ‘make her talk’ jobs. Because of her fragile condition (she is seven months preggers after all) I relented after only about fifteen minutes of gentle torture and got her off big time. Her screams could have woken the dead. But it wasn’t the dead she woke.

I lay there with my head on her enlarged belly. She is incredibly beautiful pregnant. Her face is aglow. Her tits are sensitive, her skin radiates health. I hear Donnie and Deirdre complain about how fat and ugly they are, but they just don’t get it.

They are ravishingly beautiful. Any man looking at them must be torn between wanting to protect them from harm and wanting to fuck them senseless. That’s the way I feel every day of my life. I spend fifty percent of my life protecting them from harm. I spend fifty percent of my life fucking them senseless. It seems like a fair trade-off to me.

I was hugging her gently, my head on her protuberant belly when I felt them. They weren’t kicking. Dee Dee felt nothing physical, I’m sure. I felt them inside of me. In my head, I guess. It was a presence. It was two presences. I just knew there were two things that were touching me, aware of me. I felt like the theme song of the Twilight Zone
 should be playing in the background.

Dee Dee didn’t even notice. She was trying to recover from her most recent orgasm, knowing that there were more on the agenda. But those orgasms might have to wait. 

My life hasn’t been exactly normal since I met Deirdre, but this took the cake. I suddenly knew that she was having twins. Of course we expected her to have twins. There is precedence after all; only like four generations. But we didn’t bother with ultrasound or any other means of determining sex or number or children. We opted for going as natural as possible. 

But here were these two motes, these tiny intelligences, and they were touching my being. Had Dee Dee woken them up with her screams? Well that’s a hell of a way to come to life: Mom screams in orgasm, child wakes up. 

Is it me? My first reactions were a mixture of awe, wonderment, disbelief and cynicism. My cynicism derived from the possibility, nay likelihood, that I was losing my mind. When one’s head is invaded by two other presences, believe me the surest explanation is that you’ve gone nuts. All other possible explanations pall on the probability scale next to ‘you’ve lost your mind’. That one approaches one hundred per cent, and all the other possible explanations fall into the realm of ‘not bloody likely’. 

I realize that a madman who diagnosis himself has a lunatic for a doctor. But my gut feeling was that I hadn’t gone crazy. Looking at my head in an objective way, what had I thought, said, or done that would indicate that I was losing my mind? 

Let’s consider. I had fallen in love with a woman ten years my senior. I had then fallen in love with her identical twin sister while still loving the original one. I quit my job from a place where I was the fair-haired boy to go into business for myself. I talked my wives (yes, for all intents and purposes, I have two wives) into accepting responsibility for a 175 year old plantation that doesn’t grow anything but termites. I took over some obscure organization that was being run by an eighty-five year old woman, invested every penny I have along with a fair amount of money from my wives to fix up a tumble-down wreck of a house, dropped everything and moved to fucking Georgia of all places. Why would anyone call me crazy?

I put the ‘I’ve lost my mind’ scenario on the back burner, willing to listen to my instinct that maybe I wasn’t crazy. If I wasn’t, then the second most likely scenario is that I was feeling the presence of my children.

What was I feeling? I tried to analyze it. It wasn’t thought. It was more like emotion: bewilderment, wonder, mild surprise, something like that. 

It was telempathy. Is that a word? If it wasn’t, it is now. They were projecting their emotions onto me. It’s a possible theory anyway. My theory is: these things, these fetuses, these future people, have no consciousness or at least no conscious thought. All they can do is feel, am I right? 

Perhaps they are conscious in the womb, almost certainly are, otherwise why the kicking deal? But what could they think? They have no language. They are in this warm wet place, hearing garbled noises through a wall of flesh, feeling the beat of their mother’s heart. They were inside of Deirdre. I speak from experience: they were in heaven. Let’s face it: it can only go downhill from there.

Does this telempathy only go one way? I can feel them. Can they feel me? I was already starting to be overwhelmed with emotion. 

These motes that had invaded my head, they were my babies! I was flooded with love, tears were in my eyes. My arms tightened a bit around Dee Dee’s waist. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to hurt them. I wanted to hold all three of them to my heart forever.

I felt their response! They knew what it was to be loved. They were content. And slowly I felt them leave me. They were going back to sleep happy.

Deirdre was looking at me. “Andrew what’s the matter? Why are you crying, sweetie?”

I merely shook my head. I felt it best to sit on this one for a while. Who knows if it would ever happen again? And why should I worry Dee Dee about the state of my mental health when she is in her delicate condition? 

I said, “I’m just happy. How couldn’t I be happy? I have the most beautiful wife in the world, and she’s ready to give birth to our children. I’m just happy, baby.”

Dee Dee smiled warmly. “I love you, Andrew. I hope you’re right about children. If it is only one child, I’ll never be able to lose all of this weight. I feel like a tub of lard.”

I could only respond with the obvious. “You look like an angel. There has never been a more beautiful prospective mother. You glow.”

She pulled me up to her. We lay side-by-side basking in each other’s company. This was the woman I had loved at first sight. Well I had lusted after at first sight. Maybe love didn’t come into the picture for a day or two. My emotions weren’t exactly under control back then.

And now she was giving birth to our children. Our emotions had to be the same ones shared by men and women since the invention of pair bonding. It’s a primal feeling that the race would continue, your line will continue. We are fulfilling the primary purpose of our existence. 

I held her to me and we kissed. Again she tasted herself on my lips. It seemed fitting somehow, completing a cycle like that. We are forever, Dee Dee and I. 

What is extremely weird about our situation is that in an hour or two I would be with Donnie experiencing the very same emotions all over again. Talk about your Déjà vu?

Would Donnie’s babies also be telempathatic? Hey, I’ve got to develop a whole new word structure here. Not to digress, but I could become famous as the man who introduced the term telempathy to the world. Yes, some people talk of telepathy as if it might exist. But I’ve got something real that does exist and no one has thought of it yet. Well if they thought of it, nobody told me. I better pass it through my spell-checker before I make any claims.

Anyway, what of Donnie’s babies? Are there two? Are they telempathatic? Why would they be? Why wouldn’t they be? Is this part of the ‘next generation’ or have the dice just come up sevens for Dee Dee and I? 

If it is a genetic thing related to the way Dee Dee and I mixed our DNA at the time of conception, then what is the likelihood of Donnie’s and my DNA mixing the same way? Not very, I would imagine. 

But maybe this is a trait that breeds true. Had you thought of that? (Damn I’m sounding more and more like those two women every day, if you know what I mean.) What if whatever combination of genes that has apparently developed within Deirdre is the natural result of the combination of our gene sets, rather than some fluke of nature, some aberration, some mutation?

That would answer a lot of questions. Well, it would create a lot more questions than it answers, but it would answer some questions that have been in my mind for quite some time. The biggy is: how can I tell them apart?

Yes, that is a question that has bugged me for a while. I don’t do anything special. I haven’t noticed any blemish on one twin that isn’t on the other. They are both blemish-free in my eyes. 

No one in their lives has ever been able to tell them apart before, not even their parents. How bad is that? But I can. I can tell them apart. Without even thinking about it I can tell them apart. Do we have a seed of empathy between us, so deeply ingrained that we don’t even know that it exists? Is that it? 

And is that seed set to grow even more empathy in our offspring, empathy to the point of telempathy? This is an interesting development, assuming it is a development. IAM might be breeding for intelligence and might end up with telempathy on top of it. How do you like them apples? 

Of course, this is just a theory I’m working on. Hey, I’ve only had one experience with Dee Dee’s babies. I still haven’t established my own sanity yet. That will be the first test. Then let’s see if I can feel Donnie’s babies. Well, that still won’t establish my sanity, will it? Rather the opposite, I should think.

There’s only one thing for me to do now. Give Dee Dee those promised orgasms. The rest will have to wait.

Donnie’s Story

It was late Sunday morning when my water broke. I was in the bathroom performing my morning rituals when it happened. Strangely, I wasn’t nervous or scared. I calmly went downstairs to inform Andrew and Deirdre.

Andrew was in the den watching the pre-game hype. I knew that he had his Heineken in the refrigerator and was thinking about making his noon-time run to McDonald’s for his Big Mac. He has habits that he lives by. Today they would have to wait.

“Andrew, my water broke. We need to go to the hospital.” 

He looked at me with a confused expression on his face. “You’re water broke? Are you sure?”

I said, “Andrew it’s hard to miss something like that.”

He was in denial. “But it’s Sunday. The Browns are playing the Ravens! It’s a grudge match! These kids won’t be born till tomorrow, right?”

I said to him, “Go call our doctor. Tell him what happened, and then ask him what we should do.” Let the doctor take the responsibility of blowing off the Ravens and the Browns. You would think that since we are in Georgia he would want to root for the Falcons.

I was headed to the kitchen to tell Deirdre when I bumped into her coming the other way. We both said, “Guess what! My water broke!”

We hugged each other and laughed. Tears were streaming down our faces. I told Dee Dee, “You tell Andrew, will you? He’s going to have a heart attack, and he’s going to miss his football game.”

Dee Dee waddled into the den with me waddling behind her. She said, “Andrew, our water broke.”

Andrew said, “What is this, an epidemic? Are you sure? This is Sunday, you know.”

Dee Dee laughed. “Andrew, get a grip. We’re having a baby! We’re having babies. Today; do you get it? You’re going to be a father today.”

We have different ways of dealing with our Andrew. Deirdre has him wrapped around her little finger. He’ll do anything she wants almost without question. I handle our relationship with laughter. He does anything I want too, come to think of it. Maybe he’s wrapped around my finger too.

Anyway, she convinced him to take our impending deliveries seriously. He called our doctor, who told him to take us to the hospital where she would meet us. 

As we got into the car, Andrew said, “Doesn’t it strike you as a bit odd that both of you had your water break at the same time?”

Dee Dee and I looked at each other. We’ve always done everything together. We get our periods together. Why shouldn’t our water break together? Such was our assumption. Andrew felt differently.

“Did it occur to you that perhaps both sets of children want to be born together?”

I laughed. “Andrew, you’ve had some unusual theories in your life, but that’s the strangest.”

He looked smug. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

We were over an hour from the hospital, Memorial Health in Savannah. We checked in, and I guess there was more than a little consternation on the face of the check-in person. Maybe they aren’t used to having identical twins deliver at the same time. All our papers were in order so we went right up to the women’s services area and prepared ourselves. 

We needed to be in the same delivery room. We had made arrangements through our doctor to arrange that, even though it was most unusual. We didn’t know that we would deliver at the same time, but both of us need Andrew to be with us. 

I’m not one to have my husband wait in the hall, smoking cigarettes and feeling miserable. Well, the hospital doesn’t allow smoking and anyway Andrew doesn’t smoke, uh, cigarettes. And I don’t want him being miserable. And I need him with me. And so does Deirdre. 

We planned on natural childbirth. We’d all been to the classes. We read the books. We watched the videos. We weren’t a bit concerned. And our doctor was quite satisfied with the progress of our pregnancies.

We went through the process, the dilations becoming greater as the frequency of contractions increased, just as all mothers go through the process. Andrew was looking at the clock, calculating the amount of time gone by in his precious ball game. 

But time passed, we were suffering just a bit. One should suffer a bit during these times. It makes the experience more starkly real. Too much suffering makes it too real. We were in a birthing unit, with parallel birthing beds. 

Andrew’s opinion was that we should remain upright for as long as possible to allow gravity to help with the process. I think he read that in some science fiction book so it must be true.

And then they started popping out. Andrew was between us, holding a hand of each of us. Dee Dee gave birth first. It was a girl! Shortly thereafter I gave birth. It was a girl! Not too long after that, Dee Dee gave birth again. It was a girl! Then I gave birth again. It was a girl!

As each baby came out, the doctor placed her on our naked breasts and allowed us to talk to her, comfort her, warm her. Then they took the tiny little thing to be cleaned, dried, weighed, and wrapped in a blanket. Andrew sat on a chair and waited. Each baby was crying as the nurse was cleaning her. Since Deirdre and I were still in labor, the nurse took each of the first two babies and gave them to Andrew, one in each arm. 

They cried the entire time they were with the nurse. But as soon as they were in Andrew’s arms, they quieted right down. The nurse was amazed. Here was this large, lovely boy holding two tiny, tiny babies. The little ones seemed perfectly content in those loving arms. They must take after their mothers. Those are the arms I want to die in.

Andrew didn’t say anything to the babies. He held them and looked in their eyes, although it is my understanding that new-born babies can’t track with their eyes for a while after birth. They just seemed to be comfortable with him.

When our second batch was prepared by the nurses, Andrew gave a baby each to Dee Dee and me. They were as identical as peas in a pod, and I certainly was unsure which baby was which. 

But Andrew just handed one to me and said, “This is Edie.” 

Then he handed the other baby to Deirdre and said, “This is Emma.”

He seemed to know and I believed him. We had agreed on the names Edie and Edda. Deirdre and Andrew had decided on Emma and Elle. I think the Elle name had something to do with a particular fashion model Andrew favors. 

The nurse handed our second pair to Andrew. Again they calmed right down and seemed content just to be held by our beloved. The nurse was shaking her head: four babies, all identical, from two different, identical mothers. It was a most unusual birthing. 

Andrew came over between the two of us. He leaned over and kissed Deirdre. Then he leaned over and kissed me. He put everything he had into that kiss, because exhausted as I was, I still felt it to my soul. All I wanted to do was sleep. 

Dee Dee’s Story

Something strange is going on with Andrew and the children. They absolutely never cry when he is near them. What kind of a spell has he cast over them? They adore him, and yet he barely speaks when he is around them. They just have a rapport that I don’t understand. Andrew not speaking is a major turn of events from our point of view.

With Donnie and me they act like normal babies. Poor Andrew must get up every night to get the babies for feeding time. We are lucky that all of them are on the same feeding schedule. How likely is that? 

So Andrew brings them to us. We apply one to each breast and let the feeding frenzy begin. Andrew helps with the burping process, the girls eat their fill, and then Andrew puts them back to bed. 

They are all so beautiful and all so identical that Donnie and I have no idea which two we are feeding. Andrew assures us that he is giving each of us our own babies, but we only have his word for that. Not that it matters. We long ago decided that we would be group mothers. I may have given birth to Emma and Elle. Donnie may have given birth to Edie and Edda. And I mean may. We have no idea who gave birth to who. It doesn’t matter anyway, because we are the mother of each of them.

But Andrew claims to know. He tells them apart, he confidently picks them up and calls them by name. Who knows? Maybe he can tell them apart. I think he may have talents that Donnie and I never guessed at. 

But it would be nice to know exactly what is going on here. We have five month old babies who think the world revolves around their father. Their mothers are merely their food source. 

I finally decided to force the truth out of him. There is something he isn’t telling us. I don’t know what and I don’t know why. I just know.

I confronted him after the morning feeding. The babies had stayed up for almost two hours, then Andrew put them back to bed. He touches them on the forehead as he places them in the crib and they fall right asleep. 

I made him sit with us. We were still in bed, Donnie and I. These feedings at all hours of the day and night are a bit trying. Of course, Andrew is right there with us, and yet he never seems to be tired. 

I asked him, “Andrew, isn’t it about time you told us? We are your wives, you know.”

He looked surprised. I know that look. It’s his ‘I’m surprised’ look when he was really not a bit surprised. “Told you what, Dee Dee?”

I was a bit touchy. I’m tired. “Andrew, don’t make me go through this again. You always know exactly what I’m talking about before I even ask the question. Yet you play innocent as if you have no idea where I am going with it. Do we have to torture you, or are you just going to spit it out?”

He was reluctant, I can tell. It was as if he thought we wouldn’t like the answer. But Andrew could never keep anything from us. 

“Deirdre, do you think I’m insane?”

So he wants to play it this way, huh? Okay, I’ll play. “No Andrew, we don’t think you are insane. Does that make you feel better?”

He forced the words out. “The girls and I understand each other.” 

“We know that. We just don’t know how or why. We’ve been with you a whole lot longer, we’re thirty-six years old, we’re doctoral candidates, and we don’t understand you. How can four five-month old babies understand you?” 

He said “I think they know me on a molecular level. Something like that anyway. We’ve been in contact with each other since two months before they were born. Seriously. Dee Dee, you remember the time. We were engaged in a little hanky panky of the oral kind. I had just ‘made you talk’ so to speak. Afterwards you thought I was upset. I was upset. I had just been in contact with Elle and Emma while they were in the womb. It was just about that time that Edie and Edda ‘woke up’ as well. And I’ve been with them ever since.”




Death By Fucking Ch. 12



“It’s an extension of my ‘chemical attractors’ theory, I think. It has to do with you and me and Donnie having this attraction that seems to go beyond logic, beyond reason. Well I think that the genetic makeup of the three of us combined in such a way that the girls and I have a biological rapport, the ability for our minds to touch, somehow. Who am I, Uri Geller or John Edwards? I know what happens. I don’t know why.”

Donnie said, “Well what happens?”

“I can feel their emotions. I call it telempathy. We are in some sort of empathetic rapport with each other. They feel me when I try to project to them. Maybe they feel me before I try to project to them. How should I know? We’re talking about five month old babies who have yet to say ‘mama’. I certainly can’t have a discussion with them about empathetic projection, now can I?”

Donnie and I were both flabbergasted; and maybe a bit skeptical, given the nature of the claim. We’ve been aware of the rapport between Andrew and the girls. Well this explanation is as good as any. But he knew them before they were born? Please.

“So how do you keep them from crying?” Donnie asked.

“I just try to project a feeling of love and comfort. I let them know that we understand what they want and are going to give it to them. It’s my understanding that young babies cry to let their mothers know they need something. They usually cry until they get it – food usually. But the girls know that what they need is coming and don’t need to cry anymore. That’s my theory, anyway.”

Donnie and I were both moving our mouths but nothing was coming out. Finally I spit out, “My God! No wonder they calm down when you are with them. But how? How does it work?”

Andrew had seven months to figure this one out. Knowing him he has a theory. I just can’t believe he kept quiet about it for so long. 

He said, “Sorry for holding out on you, but I wanted to be sure you saw there was something going on between the girls and me before opening up with you. I didn’t want the guys with the little white coats to come and take me away.”

“I’ve read stories about telepathy, things like that. The explanation is always that man only uses a small percentage of his available brain power. Since from an evolutionary point of view, that is an impossible proposition – if we didn’t need it, it would never have evolved – they further claim that telepathy (or whatever other special power is being used) was once used by man but then lost, though the ability remained, just lying dormant.”

“Naah! Sorry, but I just don’t buy that explanation. Those people who say that man only uses a small percentage of his available brain power are banking on the fact that science is still learning about the brain. Just because we don’t know what a part of the brain is used for, doesn’t mean it isn’t being used. Besides which, I’m pretty sure that current science has closed a lot of the gap about brain utilization. What they thought was just extra capacity back in the 1950’s now is something vital and obvious in 2004.”

“So where does that leave me and the kids? Have you ever heard of the term ‘exaptation’? It’s a term that refers to something that evolved to perform one function, then was seized upon to be used for an entirely different function. The classic example is bird’s feathers. How could bird feathers evolve? When the first birds or semi-birds flew, they already had feathers. Evolution doesn’t plan in advance. Evolution doesn’t plan at all. So how could birds evolve feathers for flight before they had flight?”

“The obvious answer is: feathers weren’t evolved for flight. They were evolved to provide insulation, maybe, keeping the animal warm. It was only later that one of those creatures that had evolved feathers – a dinosaur of course – happened to work its way to a point where it started to fly. The feathers made it easier, but they were there for a totally different purpose.”

“Now let’s talk humans. Did you know that man is the only mammal that can’t drink and breathe at the same time? Well, there is an exception, and you see it about every four hours. Babies can drink and breathe at the same time. But after about the age of two a human’s larynx drops down and suddenly we can’t drink and breathe – one or the other, not both. Now what kind of an adaptation is that? It doesn’t make much sense. It seems kind of counter-evolutionary to make man vulnerable like that.”

“But guess what. Because the larynx is low in the throat, man can make sounds that other animals are incapable of making. We can make the complex noises that developed into human speech. Other animals can make a limited range of noises, but man’s ability to create noise is limitless.”

“So the larynx dropped in order to facilitate human speech, right? Wrong, probably. The larynx dropped hundreds of thousands of years before speech was developed, probably. Sorry for all of these ‘probablies’, but I’m on shaky ground here. As far as I know, paleontologists can only guess why the larynx dropped. But because it did, later humans were able to use it for the purpose of speech, regardless of its original evolutionary function.”

“Now you see where I’m going with this, I bet. The ability to use telempathy (if that is what we are using) is an exaptation. The almost limitless functionality of the human brain has developed another function, using a portion of the brain that was developed for another purpose altogether, maybe combining several sections of the brain to create this new functionality.”

“How the hell should I know, Dee Dee? You want a theory, I give you a theory. I know I don’t want to make this information general knowledge or the CIA or NSA or the White House will descend upon us, dissect one of the babies’ brains (or worse, dissect my brain) and put the rest of us in solitary confinement until they figure out how to use this as a weapon against their enemies, foreign or domestic.”

“If this information ever comes out, it will be at a time of our choosing. If this function breeds true, that is if all of our descendants have this ability, we will wait until it’s a fait accompli. There will be so many of us that we can fight back. They can’t stop us and they need us.”

“How’s that for a theory?”

Donnie and I were looking at each other in wonderment. Andrew never ceases to amaze us. How did we link up with this person? If he isn’t the ‘next generation’ there is none. As usual, Andrew’s theory included consequences and responses to consequences. Our lovely boy always thinks several steps ahead. 

Donnie asked him “How do you know that it isn’t telepathy? The children don’t have language yet, so how do you know that when they start to think in words you won’t be able to hear each other?”

Andrew just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ve wondered about that one too. Are these girls going to be able to read my mind? How do you feel about a one year old using the word ‘fuck’ in every other sentence? I’m embarrassed to admit that I think the word a lot more than I say it.”

Donnie and I just started to laugh. Our babies are going to be corrupted by our husband! If they have access to any mind in the world, his is the one we would want them to have access to. Maybe they will be able to figure him out.

Andrew’s Story: Little Ones

Emma and Ella, Eddie and Edie: two sets of twins that could be quadruplets. No one else can tell them apart, not even their mothers. Me, however, I have no problem with any of them. 

We’ve got something going, those four little angels and me. I knew it when they were in the womb. They could sense me. They read me like a book even then, and I could feel them responding to me somehow. It was telempathy.

Now they are two years old, precocious to a fault; the kind of kids you want to hug one minute and then ring their pretty little necks the next. And the little tykes can read my mind. It’s very disconcerting. 

The other day we were just out for a drive. Donnie stayed home to do some work. We strapped all four little ones into their car seats in the back seat of that monster car we were forced to buy to accommodate them. 

We were riding down the road, and I was minding my own business. I never said a word, I swear, when some guy passed me in the passing lane, dove right in front of me and then slowed down. 

I like to drive with cruise control. It relaxes me. Nothing pisses me off more than to be forced to hit the brake because of someone else’s irresponsible driving. But I kept my mouth shut. I never said a word. 

A little further up the road we came to a light. Mr. Inconsiderate was making a left hand turn so we pulled up beside him. 

That’s when Emma rolled down her window turned to the other car and yelled “YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!”

Mr. Inconsiderate just gaped at the blonde haired angel with the dimples who was giving him the finger. I quickly pulled away as soon as the light changed.

Ella said, “Mommy, what’s a fucking idiot?”

Dee Dee was looking daggers at me by this time. She said, “That’s anyone driving a car directly in front of your father.”

Of course, that’s when Eddie had to come out with “Mommy, why don’t you pull up your skirt so Daddy can look at your pussy?”

Dee Dee’s turned bright red. I thought she was going hit me. I swear I never said a word. I was trying to will my little girls to cut it out, quiet down, get off of it.

Edie asked “Mommy, what does ixnay, ixnay mean?”

I threw my hand up in the air in surrender and just gave Dee Dee an apologetic look. Hey, I think what I think. It’s my opinion that if you don’t actually say it, then it doesn’t count. Of course now I have four little cherubs who like to repeat every thought that goes through my fucking head.

Emma decided to compound the problem. “Mommy, are you horny too?”

Ella, as always, asked “What’s horny?”

Dee Dee finally couldn’t resist and broke out laughing. Whew! I was getting a little uncomfortable there. I saw her slowly inch her skirt up and start to spread her legs until I could see ALL the way up. God, she wasn’t wearing panties! I tried to keep the car on the road, but it wasn’t easy.

My favorite little tattletale, Emma asked “Mommy, what’s a fantastic piece of ass?”

Eddie chimed in “What’s a pussy, Mommy?”

Edie said “Daddy’s getting hard again.”

I pulled the car over and came to a halt. I turned around to these four little things who continue to drive me nuts and said “Will you get out of my head!”

I’ve just got to find a way to keep these kids away from my head or I’ll never be able to get away with anything. What a horrible thought.

Emma said, “Daddy’s only fun to be with when you’re not around, Mommy. When you’re around he only ever thinks about getting laid.”

I said “Emma how old are you?”

She said “I’m two years old!”

I said “Do you want to live to be three?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut the hell up!”

Ella said “Oh, Daddy said a bad word! Shame on you!” 

Help me God. Please help me.

Donnie’s Story

I love spending time with Andrew and the children. When the children are around, Andrew doesn’t say much. The children do his talking for him. It’s very funny. Andrew seems to be resigned to it. 

When the girls started talking at eighteen months, they were speaking in complete sentences. I’m not sure how much they understand of what they say, but they say quite a lot.

We were in the den on a Sunday afternoon. Andrew was watching the ball game as usual, with a Big Mac and a bottle of beer. He acknowledges his own shortcomings related to the Big Mac. He knows he shouldn’t be eating it. But it’s a tradition. Andrew takes his traditions seriously.

The girls were on the floor of the den, playing with some Legos. They are four lovely little ones with blond hair, blue-green eyes, and dimples. Their voices are so sweet when Andrew’s words come out of them that it’s almost shocking. 

I’m afraid that Doris has been left speechless more than once when Emma dropped a four letter word in front of her. Emma is the troublemaker amongst our daughters. I’m sure she knows what she should and should not say. She just loves getting a reaction from us. That’s the reason she is the only one I can pick out among the four of them. It’s not how she looks, it the way she says things. 

Andrew has finally started to watch the Falcons. His devotion to the Browns verged on self-destruction. 

So we were in the den, Andrew watching the game, the girls playing, me watching them all. 

Emma was trying to put two pieces together when she yelled “Throw the fucking ball, Michael!”

Another one said “Why should Michael throw the fucking ball?”

A different one answered. “If he gets hit he might get hurt. Then the Falcons would be the same as the fucking Browns.”

Andrew’s mouth never opened. His eyes never left the TV. He acted like he was oblivious to all of this. 

One asked me, “Momma, what are you doing at half-time?”

I looked at her. What was I supposed to say? “I’m doing whatever your father wants to do at half-time, just as always.”

Emma said confidently “They’re going to get laid.”

Andrew finally spoke up. “Emma, you’re embarrassing your mother. I’ve told you about that. Do us a favor, will you? Leave us alone at half-time. Go bother Momma Dee Dee. I’m sure she will love to have four little brats annoying the hell out of her for half an hour. You can come back and annoy me after the half.”

Emma said, “We don’t annoy you Daddy. You think we’re funny!”

Daddy said, “But you will annoy me if you don’t let Momma Donnie and I alone at half-time, won’t you?”

Emma smiled. “Don’t worry, Daddy. We’ll take care of Momma Dee Dee and you can take care of Momma Donnie.”

She is a precocious little brat. I can’t wait till she is a teenager and starts to date. Then we are going to embarrass her so much! Until then I’ll have to grin and bear it. 

Half time finally arrived. It was a close game, so I knew that we only had a half an hour. Andrew never likes to miss the second half of a close game. 

The girls went out to the kitchen where Dee Dee was puttering around making dinner. Doris had come out of her cave for a change and was sitting at the table, occasionally offering criticism of Deirdre’s methods. When the little ones went running into the kitchen, Doris made a hasty retreat. Dee Dee probably breathed a sigh of relief. Doris can be a bit of a trial when she thinks we aren’t doing something right.

Andrew took my hand and we kissed. It’s always like the first time when we kiss. Well, not exactly the first time. It’s always like the first time after Andrew knew who I was. He puts so much love into his kisses. We have the little ones draining our energy, but there always seems to be enough energy left over for love. 

The children just don’t bother Andrew a bit. I mean they aren’t a strain for him. He lets them play in his office as he programs. They are with him almost from the moment he gets up until the moment they go to bed. They want to be around him and he loves their company. 

It makes it easier for Dee Dee and me to survive. Most mothers of twins are worn to a frazzle. We have essentially quadruplets, and still are pretty calm, relatively well rested. I think it’s a conspiracy between Andrew and the children so that Andrew can continue to have plenty of sex. The man is insatiable. 

But it is because of us, Deirdre and me. He finds us irresistible. I’m starting to believe him: we are irresistible. At least for him, we are irresistible. We don’t care what other men think. 

It took us months to get our bodies back to where they were before. Our weight is back down to 108, right where it was before we got pregnant. We have stretch marks, but Andrew likes them, he says. Makes us look lived in, he says.

Isn’t it odd that even our stretch marks are almost identical? Dee Dee and I are joined at the hip, figuratively.

Andrew and I went into the bedroom. When we are alone together, Andrew is like a poet of love. He speaks so eloquently of his love for me. He makes me feel like a princess. This young boy who is our lover cares for us so. I’ve always feel like I live in a cocoon of love.

We slowly undressed each other. His chest is beautiful. There is barely any hair on it, and yet it is so defined and muscular. He’s a very strong man, but with us and the babies he is so gentle. 

I’ve seen him exasperated, I’ve seen him frustrated. But I’ve never seen him angry. He will not lose his temper with any of us. Deirdre and I are a bit more mercurial. We have yelled at him upon occasion, usually in regards to his eating habits. But Andrew never yells.

When our clothes are off, Andrew picks me up in his strong arms and carries me to the bed. I feel like a child in his arms, protected and loved. And horny. Do children feel horny? I don’t think so.

He stands by the bed holding me in his arms. One hand starts to explore my body, feeling by bottom, working its way behind my knees, massaging my thighs. His touch leaves fire wherever it passes.

He places me down on the bed and crawls beside me. He must have more than two hands, because they are everywhere. My body strains against his, trying to increase our areas of contact. His skin is soft and smooth, wonderful.

His hands are playing with my breasts, now restored to their lowly ‘A’ cup size. He doesn’t seem to mind. He seems to love our breasts. 

I love it when he tweaks my nipple, then takes it into his mouth. My body arches to go deeper. It’s an involuntary reaction. By now most of my reactions are involuntary. Andrew has total control of my body and he takes me wherever he wants me to go. 

I am wet and wanting, needy. I can hardly stand it. I need him to put his hard cock into me. It feels so huge, so filling as it slides in slowly. Somehow he knows how to rub my clitoris as he rocks himself in and out of me. 

We start with a slow and loving rhythm, but as the pressure mounts our movements quicken. I feel that huge thing slamming into me. Andrew has cupped my chin with one hand as he draws my lips to his. We are kissing, his tongue playing with mine. 

His control is unbelievable to me. I have no control. I am under his control. He drives me wild with his lovemaking. I am building to a peak so quickly! Oh God, how I love him! I’m screaming. My climax is immense. I’m on the verge of passing out. 

I feel him ejaculate deep inside my pussy. It triggers another climax from me. I can’t take anymore. I collapse on the bed, exhausted and satiated. He makes me so happy. 

Andrew kisses my nose, then my eyelids, then my cheeks, and finally my lips. He says, “Thank you baby. What are you doing after the game?”

I groaned. “I’m looking after the children. Go ask Dee Dee what she’s doing.” A woman can only take so much.



Death By Fucking Ch. 13-14



Chapter 13 Sharing the Wealth

THE YEAR THREE

Andrew's Story

I've got so many balls in the air I wonder when they are all going to fall on my head. My business is going great guns. It's unbelievable what some simple little programming can bring in when applied in the right places.

IAM has finally gotten off of the ground. I've built several websites for various people to access: different strokes for different folks. We are getting regular hits from twins all over the country, as well as more than a few male geniuses who are interested in getting their rocks off. Hey, you've got to start somewhere.

We've done several mailings to the twins' database. That was a chore – loading forty thousand names, addresses, and family histories from the records Doris was maintaining. And Doris is no prize in the handwriting department. Maybe when she was young, say seventy, one could read her writing. But now her writing looks like the marks made by a lie detector. Try figuring that out.

So I created a SQL Server 2000 database added on a visual basic front end and away we went! I created some nice websites that interfaced with the same SQL database we were using locally and we were ready for business. 

Do you know what it costs to mail things to forty thousand people? You do the math. We aren't a charitable organization, you know. The IRS might not look kindly at some of my websites if we claimed to be a non-profit. 

We've got to pay for all of this. I let Donnie and Deirdre take care of the money end of things. They arrange for whatever dirty tricks they can come up with to minimize our costs and maximize our profits. What the hell do I know? I'm a lowly computer geek. I do my job and that's it. Let the big brains do the heavy lifting, business-wise. 

My computer room is state of the art, or at least as close as we can afford it to be, out here in the boondocks of east Georgia. We've got redundancy built within redundancy. We backup like there is no tomorrow. Actually it isn't mission critical that we stay on-line all of the time. If our T3 line goes down for a while we can live with that.

We had our second batch of kids last year. This really was a 'biological clock' kind of decision. Donnie and Deirdre were thirty-seven at the time and we just didn't want to push our luck by waiting any longer. 

Besides which, it may be a bit crass of me, but I really did want to see if we could get pregnant a second time as a kind of experiment. None of the twins of any family had ever gotten pregnant twice, to the best of our knowledge. And our knowledge is the knowledge of the entire institute, such as it is. 

It's kind of a key to the next generation's future that our match-ups be able to procreate without the restraint of a single birthing per female after long attempts at pregnancy. 

I don't want to brag, but I am one potent guy. We've only tried to get pregnant four times (two times per girl, after all) and I'm batting four for four. No blanks being shot here. 

The big news, the really big news, is that our second batch wasn't twins and it wasn't girls either. I knew by the seventh month. The twerps knew too, I might add. I made them promise on pain of death to keep their pretty little mouths shut.

Emma keeping her mouth shut is a physical impossibility. I detailed Elle with the task of watching over Emma. Her job (and she was glad to accept it) was to make sure that Emma didn't spill the beans to Donnie or Dee Dee. 

I threatened physical violence, though they never take me seriously about those threats for some reason. But Elle was more than happy to tackle Emma, and then sit on her until she agreed to keep quiet. That's what it took on more than one occasion. 

So when we made our trek down to the hospital in Savannah this time, the girls were expecting the same old thing: four adorable little girl babies. Instead they got two little boys. I didn't tell them because I wanted it to be a surprise. 

Was it ever! I thought they would never stop crying! Not the babies, they didn't cry at all. Donnie and Deirdre were beside themselves. They wanted to hold those little boys and never let them go. 

And we didn't have any boy names chosen. I thought I might have given it away when I insisted that our next batch of girls would include Edith and Ethel, two names that I totally despise. 

I actually scored some points with Deirdre early on. She wanted a girl named 'Eve' but I told her we couldn't have an 'Eve' since she was already Eve to my Adam. I can be romantic sometimes, given the proper incentive. 

So that's how Eric and Ethan came to be. I wanted 'Elvis' but Deirdre decided to be stubborn. Same story, different sex. The eBoys have the self-same capabilities as the eGirls. Trouble waiting to happen is six kids who can communicate with each other without words. 

The twerps love the babies. Em can make the boys laugh just by looking at them. My theory is she is telling them things a one year will find obscenely funny; toilet humor probably. She's good at that. She can come up with a hundred different uses for the word 'fart'. I mean, the boys aren't one yet. If Deirdre thinks I was a bad influence she hasn't seen nothing yet. Em will take the cake. 

I am not looking forward to them trying to keep a straight face during a solemn event when there are other people present. Em just won't let it happen. 

But now they are only eleven months, just toddling a little bit, learning to walk, laughing all of the time. It's the best time for babies as far as I'm concerned. 

Donnie's Story

It's a well known fact that the early years of childhood are the best for learning language. Until the fifth year or so the brain is very receptive to languages of all kinds. Dee Dee and I decided to take advantage of that fact. 

Well, we have a little money (Andrew is doing quite well in his business ventures), we have the time and the little ones are very intelligent. We decided to see how far we could push the envelope.

A language teacher comes each day to the house and teaches our girls a language. To rephrase that, each day of the week, a different teacher arrives to teach the girls a different language. Monday is French, Tuesday is Japanese, Wednesday is German, Thursday is Chinese, and Friday is Swahili. We want to see if language does come easily especially to our precocious little girls. Andrew insisted on French. He wanted someone to help him with the menu when we go out to eat.

I feel confident when I say that Emma is the only three-year old in the world who can say 'fuck you' in six different languages. How she got that information out of these very conservative teachers is beyond me. Andrew isn't a bit surprised.

Andrew agrees that languages come easily in the early years. I don't think he quite gets the point. Human languages are what are supposed to come easily. He is teaching the girls computer languages. Each day it is Pascal, then Visual Basic, then C, then HTML, then Java and who knows what else. Andrew claims that they are better than most programmers he knows already.

I worry about overworking them, but Andrew has a strict rule that the girls abide by. When they begin to get bored, they quit. Not one second of boredom is allowed. They go and play, or whatever they want to do.

Andrew had a crew come in and put a HarTru tennis court out back. Then he had a swimming pool put in. As often as they want, the little ones get tennis lessons or swimming lessons, or just play on the court or splash in the pool. Or play on the monkey bars and swing set. Or play on the computer. Andrew has all adult access blocked, but is pessimistic about the efficacy of the blocking in the face of Em's counter programming. He just hopes she isn't interested. It's the blocking that challenges her. Once she is past it, she will move on to something else to get in trouble about. 

Andrew gives them the lessons himself. He spends every waking moment either programming or being with the girls. Well, I will admit, he does spend a significant amount of time making love to Dee Dee and me. Add in eating and Andrew's day is pretty well taken care of. He doesn't seem to mind. His needs are quite simple.

Last year we got a letter from our cousin Danielle. She said that she had received our wedding announcement (well let's be honest, Deirdre's and Andrew's announcement). Later (but not much later) she had received our birth announcements. 

It didn't take much for her to put two and two together. She realized that we had to get married. And the fact that both of us gave birth at the same time made her realize that we shared the same man, and that he was obviously potent. 

We've known Danny and her sister Dory since we were small children. They are only a couple of years younger than us. Both have been married for years. Dory has twins, but Danny is childless. I suppose I wasn't surprised by what she wanted.

Danny wanted a shot at Andrew. How else does one put it? She wants her babies. They may never come, even though she tries and tries with Artie. 

Yes we know about modern methods to help induce pregnancy, but they just don't appear to work for Danny (or any of the other twins from what we've been able to gather). Danny may remain childless without the right kind of help: Andrew's kind of help.

I showed Dee Dee the letter. Our cousin was asking us to let our husband make love to another woman, namely her. She knew nothing of Andrew other than his name, and yet she wanted him as a bed partner. His only qualifications from her point of view: he can make the twins pregnant.

We should have seen this coming. I remember that Andrew had jokingly referred to this very fact when we first told him about all of the twins. The boy is so smart he even foresaw that probability with only a cursory knowledge of the facts.

Deirdre and I are not saints. The concept of sharing our husband's sexual favors with other women is not a pleasant one to us. But we are the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind, after all. It is our goal to create the next generation. Right now, Andrew is the only man we are aware of who may be able to do just that.

I feel like Shylock: my daughter or my ducats. How will our dear Andrew react to such a mission, eagerly or reluctantly? My theory, to paraphrase Andrew, is that he will refuse. But if Dee Dee and I are adamant, he can refuse us nothing. He loves us. It is time, I think, to trust in that love.

Andrew's Story

Well this takes the cake. We were having lunch on the patio. I was downing a PB and J, while the girls were eating something green. The munchkins were playing on the tennis court, trying to hit the ball over the net, occasionally succeeding. 

Doris is away on one of her little excursions. There is this little old lady from town who Doris has known for like fifty years or something. She is a widow and Doris considers her a friend. We just didn't feel right sending Doris on these trips all by herself. So when we found out about Janice Edwards, we offered to pay her way if she would agree to accompany Doris. So these two old chicks fly around the country, having a ball. They are in Arizona this time.

Just as I was taking a sip of my chocolate milk, Donnie springs the question. 

"Andrew, would you consider fathering a child for one of our cousins?"

Did you ever get chocolate milk up your nose? It isn't a pleasant experience, let me assure you. 

When I had recovered from the result of her question I tried to respond. "Donnie, please don't say things like that when I'm drinking. Now what the hell are you talking about?"

So she gave me this involved explanation about her cousin Danny, something like that. Then she repeated the question. "Will you do it, Andrew?"

Why do these girls keep throwing staggeringly difficult information in my direction? I'm this simple guy with simple needs. My simple needs are amply satisfied by my gloriously beautiful and sexy wives. I told them so.

"I have never looked at another woman since I met Dee Dee. You don't count, Donnie. Of course I've looked at you. I have no interest in another woman. How can I have more sex? I'm maxed out on sex as it is. There isn't time in my schedule for more sex."

Deirdre joined the discussion. "This isn't sex for sex's sake, Andrew. This is sex for impregnation. Well we are proud of you. We would expect you to give a good accounting of yourself. But Danny needs her babies. You know it isn't easy for us to think of sharing you with others. But what is the alternative? Until we find another man like you, who else can we turn to?"

Donnie actually looked like she might laugh. "'Give a good accounting of yourself?' Dee Dee wants to make sure that by the time Danny is pregnant, she is also jealous of us. Andrew, when she takes her first look at you she will be jealous of us."

I was like "But… But…" What do you say to a thing like that? "But I don't want to have sex with another woman. I've got the world's greatest sex life. The only possible direction it can go is down."

Donnie said "But Andrew, I thought you liked going down!"

"Donnie you're actually enjoying this. You love to make me squirm. How would this work? Where would it work? I'm not going anywhere for the purposes of having sex with some woman. I mean it. If it isn't here, if you two aren't here, then there is absolutely no deal."

Damn it, they had made me agree against my agreement. When I said 'forsaking all others' I meant it. I wasn't the least bit interested in this thing. Not even in the deepest most secret parts of my mind did I contemplate other women. I get laid twice a day every day of my life, pretty much, allowing for periods and the occasional headache (on my part). Who could ask for more than that?

Deirdre said "We'll bring her here, of course, sweetheart. We wouldn't make you leave us. We'll have to do it while Danny is at her most fertile. If we're lucky, it will be while Donnie and I are on our period. Had you thought of that? You wouldn't have to give up sex during our period, if it works out."

To be perfectly frank, I sometimes liked their period time. It relieved a little of the pressure, if you know what I mean. That's one bit of information my beautiful wives will never know. 

I am almost always an eager participant in our sex life. Actually especially on weekends I often go for three or four times a day. I love half times at football games. I don't have to watch the forced camaraderie between the talking heads. I leave the room, get laid, and am back just in time for the second half kick-off. My life is good.

So now the girls are proposing more sex, this time with a total stranger. Well at least she is a cousin. I wonder if she looks like Joanne Woodward. What if I have the same chemical attraction to her as I do to my wives? That would be awful. 

This might be a disaster waiting to happen. I've got to wiggle out of this if I can.

Dee Dee's Story

Andrew isn't eager to be with Danny. I think there is even more to it than his commitment to us. Andrew lives by his commitments. I've never seen him break a promise. But I think this whole idea about Danny scares him.

We arranged for Danny to come to meet us. When she arrived, we sat her down in the living room, Donnie and me. Andrew was in the computer room working. Danny didn't bring her husband. We asked her why.

"Artie knows about this, of course. I tell him everything. He even wants it to happen. We both want children so badly. But the theory is much different than the reality. He wants to pretend it isn't happening, and I'm going to help him to pretend. We love each other. I don't wish to cuckold him. But we need our babies."

By this time the poor thing was crying. Of course she was. She was willing to give up her most precious gift, even to the extent of creating this difficulty in her marriage, in order to get pregnant. I hope Andrew is up to the task.

I told her "Danny, Andrew is also very reluctant to do this, as are we all. But we are committed to the goals of the institute. And we know what you are going through. Until a few years ago, neither of us thought we would ever give birth. We were so fortunate to find Andrew."

Through her tears she asked, "Do you really think he might be able to impregnate me?"

Donnie only shook her head. "We don't know. Theoretically Andrew is capable of anything. He got us both pregnant the first time he was with us. But who knows the reality? Maybe he only works for us. But we are willing to have him try. Please be patient with him, because this will be very difficult for him."

She looked surprised. "He doesn't want me?"

I said, "Danny, Andrew loves us. He will do anything we ask, but asking him to be unfaithful is almost too much for him. It has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with our relationship."

Danny said, "I don't want to hurt you. If you want, I'll leave."

Donnie laughed. "Actually we're looking forward to it. It's always best to keep Andrew off balance. He can get set in his ways. He has these habits he falls into. I like it when he is uncomfortable. Don't worry. Why don't we have some wine? It's time you started getting into the mood. I'll get Andrew."

I brought in the champagne we had chilled for the occasion. Andrew is a sucker for Mum's Cordon Rouge. He is always horny after a few glasses. Well actually Andrew is always horny.

Andrew reluctantly left his work and joined us in the living room. I was surreptitiously watching Danny as he walked into the room. Her eyes widened as she saw this handsome young man, obviously seven or eight years younger than herself. He is tall and lean. He has deep dark eyes that see right through a person. I've never seen a woman look at him just once. He's beautiful.

Donnie introduced the happy couple. I could see Andrew slowly reach out to take Danny's hand, as if it might be poison to him. But she took his gladly. I could see his eyes light up. It was a look of relief. 

I knew it! He was afraid of his own reaction. Our sweet boy is so transparent to us. He was afraid of his reaction when he touched Danny, and he had no reaction. He was relieved. I was relieved too. He's ours alone. In his heart he belongs to us. Anything else is just housekeeping.

Andrew's Story

So I've got myself into this damn thing. And there's only one way out of it. The girls were kind enough to grease the wheels a little bit by shoving some champagne down my throat. That's a sure-fire way to relax me. But now I've got to perform like some hired gigolo. And I don't even want to, much.

This woman, Danny, isn't bad looking. I can see the family resemblance with my sweethearts, and that will make it easier. Whew, I was glad when I shook her hand. Nothing happened. No sparks flew between our fingertips. No lights went off in her eyes. She was just another chick: pretty, but not much of Joanne Woodward in her.

This was very awkward. We were sitting there drinking champagne, my wives, myself, and this woman that in a few minutes I was going to screw. I started to understand how a prostitute feels in a bordello. 

My wives' reaction was interesting. Dee Dee was merely concerned, hoping that everything would come out all right, wanting the experience to be pleasant for Danny and me. Donnie, on the other hand, seemed actually eager. I think the whole concept was turning her on. I wonder if she's looking for sloppy seconds. 

We have a guest bedroom that we use whenever I convince my mother to visit. It gets used maybe once a year. The girls' parents live about half an hour away and have never needed to stay overnight. 

This is going to become the official 'get Andrew laid' bedroom. After the wine was gone, we talked a few minutes more, just getting acquainted. Finally I could see no point in further delays. Besides which, against my better judgment I was getting horny.




Death By Fucking Ch. 13-14



Now, just because I was uncomfortable with the situation, and just because I sincerely wanted only my wives for bed partners doesn't mean that my body can't react to the inevitable. It knew it was going to get laid. Before long, it was eager to get laid. I guess the repetitive nature of my sex life had trained my dick to respond to the obvious.

The previous night, the girls had told me they didn't want me to give this woman Danny a 'wham-bam thank you ma'am' fuck. They wanted me to take care of her properly. Well okay, I always try to comply with my wives' requests. I am probably the most pussy whipped man on the planet. 

Danny's Story

I was so embarrassed. I just knew that when I got the birth announcements from Donnie and Deirdre that they were with the same man. Deirdre had a different last name: Adkins. Donnie still was Martin. What else could have happened?

Artie and I just aren't able to conceive. We've tried everything. We even tried sperm donors. It wasn't him it was me. I'm like all the other twins. I just have so much trouble getting pregnant. Our doctor found nothing wrong with either of us. He suggested relaxing. 

Relaxing is the last thing I'm able to do. I wrote to my cousins and frankly asked them to lend me their husband. It must be him. He must have something special to be able to impregnate two twins at the same time. I've never heard of that happening before.

So here I was, sitting in their living room. They live on a plantation! It is old and beautiful. They told me it has taken them three years to make it livable. 

They are going to let their husband Andrew try to make me pregnant. Artie has taken it so well. I promised him, swore to him that it was me, not him. He knows about the institute. He knows about the twins. We live next door to my sister, Dory. We just have to be together. He knows how long she took to get pregnant. But it's starting to look like I'll never be.

So here I am, about to meet the man who may father my children. I've just got to take the chance, no matter how humiliating it is for me and for Artie.

Donnie went to get Andrew. I was nervous. I was scared. I'm about to go to bed with a man I've never met. I feel like some sort of harlot. 

And then he walked into the room. My God he is handsome. He's tall and dark and slender and gorgeous! Artie better never meet him. I was afraid that I wouldn't even be able to respond, you know, sexually when I met this man. But I was wrong. He's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. He's so young! Lord, how old is he? How did Donnie and Deirdre land this hunk?

He seemed nervous when they introduced us, but then he smiled. I thought my knees were going to give out. His eyes are so deep and beautiful. His touch is so warm and strong. I felt myself getting wet down there and he has only touched my hand.

If it doesn't work the first time, I want to keep trying until it does work. That's what I'll tell Artie. I must be losing my mind.

Andrew gave both of his wives a kiss, then he took my arm and led me into the bedroom. Closing the door, he tried to defuse any anxiety he thought I was feeling.

He said, "Danny, let's just relax and have fun. I know this is hard for you. But Dee Dee and Donnie don't want you to feel embarrassed. And they don't want us to just roll on and roll off. They feel that if you do get pregnant, it should be memorable for you. I don't know if I can make it memorable, but at least we should try to make it enjoyable."

He seemed so sincere. I just wanted him to rip my clothes off and take me. Something happened when he walked into the room, and now I feel like a shameless hussy. He pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips are soft, his tongue just barely pushed its way into my mouth, barely touching my tongue, sparring with it a little bit. Wow! He is hot! I felt that kiss down to my toes.

My heart was already pounding, my breath becoming ragged. I could feel myself starting to flush red. 

His hands held my cheeks as he kissed me. They slowly dropped down to my blouse and began unbuttoning. I thought I would swoon!

He removed my blouse so easily, and then his hands were behind my back as he deftly unsnapped my bra. I had known this man ten minutes and he already had me topless and panting. His hands were magical on my breasts. He caressed them, cupped them, kneaded them. And then he began to work on my nipples. 

They were already extended, agonizingly erect. He gently touched them. I moaned from the passion. He took each nipple in his fingers, squeezing and tweaking them. I leaned into his hands, but his lips never left mine. 

I finally was able to pull back from him. I wanted to see him naked. I slipped off my skirt and there I was before him in just my bikini panties. He reached down and clutched his pull-over shirt, taking it off in a single stroke. His chest was smooth and nearly hairless, but oh so manly. His arms are sleek and muscular. 

He stepped up to me again, put his arms around me and grabbed two handfuls of my bottom, pulling him to me. 

I kissed him again, willing him to hurry. Suddenly he lifted me effortlessly and he was carrying me to the bed. I felt light as a feather. He laid me on the bed, then dropped his pants and boxers in one motion. 

Oh my God! He has a monster! It's easy to see how he can keep two women satisfied. His tool is huge. I wonder if he can use it. It was already erect, wide and very, very long. I was gushing down there. 

He climbed into bed with me and took me in his arms. He enveloped me. I felt so tiny and helpless. One hand attacked my breasts, the other went for my panties. They seemed to disappear and I was nude in front of him. 

I didn't care about foreplay, I just wanted him inside me. My conscience had gone on vacation. 

Andrew kissed me deeply, and then his lips kissed a path down my cheek. They latched onto my neck. God I love that. He was nibbling and sucking on my neck. My head was moving back and forth, my eyes closed, my breathing fast and shallow. God I wanted this man to fuck me!

Suddenly he was suckling on my breasts. I had a small orgasm and he hadn't even touched my pussy! I was in heaven. He could suckle forever as far as I was concerned. 

His mouth left my breasts and headed toward my middle. I couldn't believe it. Artie just doesn't go there. And here was Andrew, just there to impregnate me. I nearly fainted. His lips were there! I felt his tongue slip inside me. I think I screamed.

My hips were frantically humping on his beautiful face. His lips were kissing mine (my pussy lips!) and nibbling them, licking them. Well, damn! He sucked on my clit and suddenly I was cumming. I had a major orgasm, my thighs clamped around his head, my hands in his hair pulling him tighter to me. 

I felt myself begin to relax, but Andrew wasn't through. He continued to work over my soaking wet pussy and suddenly I was ready to cum again! But I wanted him inside me. I had no choice. I had to beg.

"Please, Andrew. No more. I want you inside me. Please. Fuck me now. I can't wait any longer. I need you to fuck me. PLEASE ANDREW. FUCK ME!"

Was I too loud? Could his wives hear me? I didn't care. I needed him now. He slid up my body and I tasted myself on his lips. It was the sexiest taste I've ever experienced. 

God, I felt that huge member sliding along my pussy lips. How could it possible fit? I wanted him to try to fit it right NOW! He just kept sliding it back and forth, never quite entering my tunnel. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Don't tease me, Andrew. Please stick it in."

Andrew smiled. He seemed to be perfectly relaxed while I was a complete wreck. "Don't worry honey. You'll get it for as long as you want it." I was so happy.

And then it slid in. I screamed again. He was huge! Only an inch or two made it in the first time. He wiggled it around a bit and pulled back out, till just the tip was inside me. I groaned in frustration. 

Then he slid in again, deeper, much deeper. I couldn't be wetter. He pulled out and attacked again. I felt him lift behind my legs, and suddenly my knees were practically touching my breasts. And then he slid in so deep! He was much deeper than any man before. 

He began to move, in and out, fucking me deeply with slow easy strokes. But with every stroke he seemed to increase his speed, increase his power. I came again. He didn't slow down.

He was bringing me to a peak I never knew existed. I felt his member grow in me, even bigger than before. Somehow it hit my clit on almost every stroke. I was crazed with ecstasy. 

I felt him start to spurt. It felt like it was entering my womb directly. It was too much! My body clenched in passion, my oxygen supply was gone. I couldn't' breath, I couldn't think. I screamed again but no sound came out. And then everything went black.

How long was I out? I have no idea. When my eyes opened, Deirdre and Donnie were in the bedroom and Andrew was gone. I was naked in front of my second cousins! I should have been embarrassed again, but I could barely move. I felt like I could sleep for a week.

I found the strength to ask, "Where's Andrew? What happened?"

One of them – I don't know which - smiled. 

She said "Death by fucking." 

Chapter 14 Preparations and Programming

The Year Five

Andrew's Story

It's the database that's important. I'd taught the twerps to program starting when they were three. They are a whole lot smarter than I am. Was three years old too young to learn to program? I don't think so. I've done the initial system design, but soon I'll turn that over to them, too. Let's face it, when the brains were passed out in this family, I was last in line.

Anyway their assignment recently was to build me a firewall. I've got a plan. It's a good plan and I'm proud of it. My theory is before long we are going to be under attack. People are going to want to get into my database, find out what we are about, sabotage our operation, even. 

We are trouble. Not short term, we are somewhat harmless in the immediate future, except for Em, who might be the most dangerous person on earth. I mean that. But if someone finds out what we really are doing, there must be some h. Sapiens somewhere who will want to take on the next generation. 

And we have our dark little secret. The girls are telepaths. I can read them but no one else. So I must have some incipient abilities. Maybe many h. Sapiens are born with that latent talent, but have no one at the other end of the line to link up to, so to speak. I've got my links in place. The eGirls seem to be able to read anyone's thoughts. I don't think anyone else can read their thoughts, though, except for the eBoys, of course and each other. 

So we've got to protect ourselves, data-wise at least. I've got some ideas about how to do it, but I'm not good enough to pull it off. I'll let the eGirls wrap their little brains around our problem, then see where they go with it.

Meanwhile I've learned to live with my mind being an open book to a pack of five year olds. I'm used to it. I've got nothing to hide. I'm not like a serial killer or jay walker or anything like that. Mostly I like sex. That's the key to Andrew. The little ones know it, even if the concept of 'sex' is foreign to them. There is no way I can hide it from them, so I figure a relaxed attitude is the only sane way to handle it.

There was a time when I could go for weeks at a time with no sex at all. Some female acquaintance might eventually call me up and suggest getting it on, and that would be that. Otherwise, I was dry. And it didn't bother me that much.

But now I live with two ravishingly beautiful, intelligent women. I'm constantly horny. I can't help it. They are sweet, warm and sexy. Every day I am with them I feel enveloped in warm nurturing love. Thank God the girls decided to quit their jobs not long after their pregnancies were confirmed. I couldn't have handled being away from them. 

They manage to keep busy, handling our business, managing the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. They even finished off their doctorates. They do housework too, occasionally. I mostly raise the little ones and do my programming thing. I do the cooking and grocery shopping too. You see a lot of good looking mothers in a grocery store. 

But I figure there is danger lurking. Somewhere in the future, someone is going to come after us. It will probably be the government. After all, one of the points of our movement toward the next generation is to poke a bit of a hole in consumerism. That won't go over well in the most powerful circles of this country. And our present administration likes to be in a position of total control. We are pretty uncontrollable. 

And let's face it we are creating a race of geniuses. I'm pretty smart, but I'm a mental midget next to the children of the next generation. I tried giving the eGirls an IQ test a while back. I took the test and scored 155. I felt pretty good about it. Then the munchkins went right off of the charts. Over 200 is the only thing I could confirm. How much over 200 I just don't know. 

Right now we are so small as to be invisible. But we are ready for a major breakout if our mating plans work out. Here in our own family, six years ago there were only two women. Now there are six females and three males. That's progress. Besides which, I've had one hundred and eighty-five kids through these informal liaisons with twins on the network that the girls have worked out. I've even had seven boys to accompany my eighty-nine sets of girl twins. As far as we can tell, they are all geniuses. And they all have the telepathy thing going. I do nothing. I know nothing. Suddenly some woman shows up at our house and I'm spending the afternoon valiantly trying to impregnate her. Mostly it works. My life is good.

Multiply that by twenty thousand and we start making some noise. I want to be prepared when that noise is heard. After all, how easy is it going to be to keep a lid on it when I've got a couple of hundred kids all over the stinking country? I'm a very prolific guy.

Donnie's Story

It was so horrible. We were peacefully sleeping in the middle of the night when Andrew was up like a shot. As he ran from our bedroom he yelled "Call 911. We have an intruder."

Dee Dee grabbed for the phone and placed the emergency call while I followed after Andrew. He was running to the girls' room!

He burst into their room with me only a few steps behind. There was a man trying to grab our little girls! Andrew was on him in a flash. He wrapped his arms around the man's waist from behind and fell backwards twisting as he fell. The man went down with him, falling flat on his face.

His head hit the floor so hard he seemed to go out like a light. Andrew was searching the man when Elle said "He has a gun, Daddy. It's in his pants."

Emma said, "Don't worry, Daddy. You knocked him out good."

It was then I started to go into hysterics. I couldn't catch my breath. I was crying. Deirdre came in and she was crying too. Emma was laughing.

Andrew found the gun. It was big and it was loaded. There had never been a gun in our house before. Andrew pulled the man's wallet out of his pants. He opened it and removed several cards. 

He said to Edda, "Eddie, go scan these into your computer. Email me a copy, okay?" He handed the cards to her and away she ran. 

Andrew backed away and pointed the gun at this big ugly man who had tried to take our babies. I thought he might shoot him. I was still crying. I couldn't help it. I was so scared for the babies. 

Dee Dee said, "Please Andrew. Don't shoot him. The police are on their way."

Andrew looked at me for the first time. "Calm down, sweetheart. Everything is going to be alright."

He turned to the girls. "When he wakes up, I'm going to ask him some questions. He won't want to answer. I don't care if he says anything or not. You munchkins listen to what he says in his head. But don't say it out loud. Let me know his answers silently, if you know what I mean."

Edie said "Okay, Daddy. He woke us up when he came into the room. He's a bad man."

Eddie came back into the bedroom and handed Andrew the cards. He put them back into the man's wallet and reinserted the wallet into the man's pants.

The big ugly thing was coming to. He sat up suddenly and reached in his pants as if to go for his gun.

Andrew said, "Too late, asshole. Sit there and don't move, or I'll shoot your child molesting ass."

The man turned and saw Andrew for the first time. It must have been an intimidating sight, seeing my tall strong husband looming over him with his own pistol, cocked and ready.

Andrew asked "What's your name?" The man said nothing.

Andrew said "Who sent you?" The man was silent.

"Who do you work for?" Still nothing.

We heard the police sirens in the distance and knew that Chief McArthur or one of his patrolmen would be here soon. 

Andrew asked "What did you want with my children?"

The ugly man refused to talk. Dee Dee ran down to the front door to let in the police. 

Then everything was chaos as the young police officer took over, arrested our ugly intruder and took our statements.

He tried questioning the girls but all he got from Emma was "We woke up and saw the big ugly man coming toward us. We called our Daddy and he came and saved us."

The cop took the man away in handcuffs. I was finally calm enough to hug Andrew, saying "Thank you. Thank you. You are so brave and wonderful."

Andrew shook his head. "The girls were in no danger. What do you say, Emmy?"

Emma laughed. She found this whole episode delightful. "Daddy told me not to hurt the ugly man. So I just made him stand there so Daddy could bop him. Daddy bopped him good."

Andrew laughed too. "At least I learned something from little league wrestling."

Deirdre and I gaped at them. It was dawning on us that Andrew had held out on us again! 

Dee Dee said to Emma "What do you mean you just made him stand there?"

Emma said, "Whoops! Was I supposed to say that, Daddy?"

Andrew smiled. "It's okay, baby. Your Mommies need to know that you will always be safe." Then he looked at us. At least he had the grace to appear a little embarrassed. "If they have to, the girls can take over a Sapiens' mind. It's a little difficult for them to do individually yet, Emma's the best at it, but four of them together would be overwhelming. They know they aren't allowed to do it unless I say it is okay. And they know that if they harm someone they'll be in deep shit. Don't you girls!"

Eddie said, "We don't want to be in deep shit, Daddy."

Elle said, "Emma does it more than anyone else. She plays jokes on people."

Emma said, "Elle! Shut up you tattletale. I'm going to get you if you don't be quiet!"

Andrew quieted them down. "Girls, tonight I'm not going to be mad no matter what. Please, Em, you know you are supposed to use your powers only for good, just like Spiderman. Cool it with the telepathic control, would ya'?"

I was speechless. I said "Andrew we need to talk; in our bedroom. Now!"

Eddie said, "Daddy's in trouble! You're gonna get it now, Daddy."

Daddy gave the girls a weak grin. "Go to bed, please. Lay off of the mind control for a while, will you? You're making my life miserable."

Emma said, "Don't worry, Daddy. After they yell at you, both of them want to get laid."

The little stinker! She always has to have the last word. I walked over, intending to scold her. Instead I hugged her and started crying again. Each adult took at least one little girl and held her. Eric and Ethan came running in from their bedroom. God, I hadn't even given them a thought! It made me cry even more. Our family was safe.

I don't know what was more shocking: catching an intruder in our little girls' room, or finding out our children have the powers of some super hero. We were shocked either way. And Andrew hadn't told us. He knew and he hadn't told us.




Death By Fucking Ch. 13-14



We marched him back to our bedroom. I must admit that Emma was right. Seeing Andrew act in so manly a fashion certainly made me horny. Maybe it was the aftermath of the whole thing, but I really needed him inside of me. 

We got into the room and made Andrew sit on our bed. It's a huge king-sized bed that fits all three of us comfortably. Andrew was in his pajama bottoms. He never wears a top. He was gorgeous. It's very difficult being angry with him.

Deirdre said, "Well Andrew, what do you have to say for yourself?"

He said, "Do you really want to get laid?"

What could we do? We had to laugh. Then we attacked him. We even let our one-on-one rule slide a little just for the evening. We both wanted him now!

Deirdre's Story

Andrew seems so staid, so set in his ways. He's comfortable in a routine that is unchanging. Perhaps it's because he has so many things to do that he has little choice but to do them according to a schedule. 

But an outside observer might consider our Andrew a boring stick in the mud. Every Saturday and Sunday afternoon he can be found in front of the tube with his football games, his Big Mac and his beer. During the week it is programming, child rearing and not much else.

He is the most dedicated of fathers. He's never far from our six children, playing with them, teaching them or just babysitting – working on his programs as they do their own thing. It's so easy to forget that our Andrew may be unique in all the world.

Donnie and I are the businesspersons in our family. Andrew's regards business matters with ignorance and apathy. He doesn't know and he doesn't care. And yet from a standing start he has built a programming business that supports us comfortably. We allow him to do his programming thing: after all it is the engine that drives the business. And we handle everything else: sales, accounting, etc.

He has fathered almost two hundred children. And he's only thirty-two. How many more will he have? Each of his children is a super-genius. Each of his children is telepathic. And now it appears that each of his children may have some kind of incredible power to control minds. 

Yet Andrew goes along as if nothing is out of the ordinary, the world is going according to plan. He refuses to have his head turned by his accomplishments, no matter how extraordinary. 

Tonight he captured that intruder, bandit, or kidnapper, whatever he was. He threw the man to the ground and knocked him out in a single move. Then he calmly lifted the man's wallet, had one of the girls scan the pertinent information into our network, and then replaced it without the man's knowledge. 

Then at gunpoint he questioned the man, who I am sure gave his answers silently without even knowing that he did it. Andrew must be the most special boring person on earth.

A couple of years ago our cousin Danny was the first woman to take advantage of another of Andrew's unique talents, the ability to impregnate the IAM twins. A year and a half later she called us again, wanting a chance at another child or children. 

I asked her "What does your significant other think about that?"

She said, "After being with Andrew, I found out that Artie is my insignificant other. Oh! I suppose I shouldn't have said that! Sorry." I think all the girls that Andrew has been with feel that way. 

We have invited all of these women in to Andrew's bed for the sake of IAM. Andrew doesn't complain about his use as our resident stud. It doesn't matter whether the woman who comes is beautiful, plain, older, younger, white, black, or whatever. He does his duty. He does his duty so well that we've gotten many a request for a return engagement just like Danny's, with or without the goal of procreation.

But Andrew only cares about Donnie and me. After each of his encounters he is always eager to have one of us join him for a second round of lovemaking. He says it cleanses his soul. I think he's just a horny little devil who adores making love to us. 

Andrew doesn't see us as we are. He sees us with his heart. We are the idealized version of ourselves to Andrew. We are two forty-one year old women, trying to maintain a relationship with our thirty-one year old man. And it's easy.

Andrew loves us! He thinks we are beautiful, warm, sexy, smart. He sees us with the eyes of love. We have no illusions about ourselves but are glad that Andrew's illusions remain intact.

We were in our bedroom after Andrew had dispatched the villain in our children's bedroom. I must admit, after I had calmed down from the shock of it all, my reaction was one of intense arousal. I was so horny for our sweet beautiful boy. He is such a man. 

We were somewhat upset with him for not telling us about the girls' powers. He seems to shepherd his knowledge of what the children can do, as if it were some deeply guarded secret. Perhaps it should be.

Yet Andrew defused the situation with a single sentence: 'Do you really want to get laid?'

Of course we did. He's so funny in his single-minded desire to have sex with us. Any occasion warrants a lovemaking session as far as Andrew is concerned. How did we survive for thirty-five years with so little sex?

It's like we are addicted to it. Every day we look forward to our time together, and it is always wonderful, varied, exciting, mind-blowing. I firmly believe it is good for the circulation. We should never have heart problems or Alzheimer's. That's a theory I'm working on (to paraphrase Andrew).

Donnie and I were in our flimsy nighties, Andrew in his pajama bottoms. We had responded to his question by jumping on him and pulling off his bottoms, laughing and kissing him, rubbing our bodies on his. It feels so good to rub against him. Skin to skin contact is my favorite.

He helped us remove our nighties, but then we were confronted with our eternal problem, two girls and only one penis. We usually solve this problem by making love in shifts. But neither of us wanted to wait tonight.

Andrew instinctively knew how to handle our shortage of penises by bringing his other wonderful sex organ into play. He lay back onto the bed, drawing the two of us towards him. 

We caressed him as he fondled each of us, giving one then the other long and loving kisses. His hand fondled my breast just the way I love it. He does things to those small breasts of mine. They are so sensitive to his touch. Every other lover I'd had seemed to think they were too small to bother with, but Andrew can spend hours on just my breasts. 

I don't know how he can be so patient, sometimes. The only time he is impatient is when we've been apart for a few days, or after our periods. Then he takes us like he did the first time he had us, demanding and domineering. 

But tonight it is we girls who are demanding. Neither of us can wait, we have to share. Sometimes I think that Donnie and I are telepathic or perhaps telempathic as Andrew would say. We feel each other's emotions. Perhaps we did contribute some genes to that special talent so well developed in our children.

We pushed Andrew onto his back. His magnificent erection pointed straight up in the air. Donnie grabbed hold of it and climbed aboard. I straddled his head and brought my center down so he could reach it with his tongue.

Oh, that magnificent tongue slid up my thighs and found my pussy lips. I moaned in my passion. His tongue parted my lips and it was inside me. My head flew back and my eyes closed. I was in heaven.

He brought a hand to bear and suddenly there was a finger inside me instead. His tongue made its way to my clitoris. It touched and I screamed! My hips began to rotate on Andrew's face, humping, helping those long lovely fingers to find their way deeper into my pussy.

I could hear Donnie behind me bouncing on Andrew's cock, groaning, working her way to a peak. We were both so hot, we couldn't last too long. His tongue was worrying my clit. I felt dizzy with the passion. His finger searched until it found my G-spot. I screamed again. I felt the spasms take over in my pussy. 

Donnie was screaming too. Here in our bedroom, two identical twins were riding our lover to our orgasms. We do everything together. This was a first though. We've never cum in unison before. 

Donnie was laughing and crying at the same time. Was I? My emotions were out of control. Our hero husband was servicing us, filling us. 

I heard Donnie say, "Yessss! Fill me up! Fuck me Andrew. Fill me with your cum! I love you!"

I love him too. I was just too crazed to say it. My climax finally ended and I collapsed beside Andrew. I kissed him deeply, my female wetness on his lips, in his mouth, covering his chin. 

Donnie fell forward on his chest. He held her with his right arm while holding my with his left. 

Andrew said "Are you still mad at me?"

We laughed. We hugged him. Thank God for this man. Where would we be without him?

Andrew's Story

I woke up with two gorgeous things trying to swallow me whole. They were gloriously naked and beautiful. These girls have a serious self-esteem problem, because they seem to feel that they are old and plain. 

Believe me, they are anything but plain. If they were old, would they be wanting to get laid every day of their lives? They remain soft, warm, round, and beautiful; their skin satiny, velvety soft; their curves in all the right places; their beautiful faces retain the soft glow that turns heads wherever they go. 

They think I'm crazy, but I know that I'm the envy of every man who sees them. They are wonderful. Their personalities are soft and warm, too. Donnie is more humorous, Dee Dee more romantic. But they are both soft nurturing and funny. They are patient with my immaturity, don't mind my strangeness, love me for me. That's one I've never figured out. What the hell do they see in me?

And they have a particular talent that is, I feel, rare at best. They've learned to give coordinated blow jobs. It is indescribable having two warm wet mouths loving your dick. It's so hot I can hardly last. I want to ride it out, experience it. I just can't. Within a few minutes they have me spurting into one of their mouths. 

Dee Dee has this way of looking into my eyes as she swallows my cum. I want to throw her down on the bed and fuck her senseless. 

I can't do it this morning. We have too much to do. Still as she cleans my shrinking dick with her tongue I whisper to her, "You're next."

Donnie smiles as Dee Dee starts to turn red. After all this time it's still easy to get to her. She is so easy to turn on.

 But I say to them, "It's time we talk about last night. I've got to admit I was holding out on you ladies a little bit."

Donnie said, "A little bit! You were holding out on us a little bit? What do you consider holding out on us a lot?"

I put my hands up as if to stop the onslaught. "It was just a figure of speech, Donnie. Don't get your panties in a wad."

Donnie stated the obvious. "Tell us Andrew. Tell us what we don't know."

I shrugged my shoulders. "There's not much to tell. If you ever see somebody do something foolish, spill something on themselves, whatever, there's a better than even chance that Em's involved."

Deirdre remembered. "We stopped at a restaurant in town the other day. I had taken the girls shopping and we wanted some lunch. The woman at the table next to us was reading a newspaper as she ate. She reached for her glass to take a drink and grabbed the ketchup by mistake. She didn't notice until the ketchup was already in her mouth. You should have seen her spit it out! The girls were laughing hysterically."

I said, "Em. That's an Em trick if I ever heard of one. The other eGirls are too timid to try anything, but they are her collaborators. They always find whatever she does funny. She feeds off of that. Hell, she is funny in a five year old kind of way."

Donnie asked "But how do they do it? Why haven't we noticed?"

"As soon as I realized they had some sort of telepathic control, I read them the riot act. I made them promise to never try to do anything to you two or to me. If I caught them trying it, I would come down on them hard."

Dee Dee laughed and said, "That's the emptiest threat I've ever heard! They have you wrapped around their little fingers. You don't know the meaning of the word discipline."

I objected. "I certainly do! It was a Word Wealth word in tenth grade. I know what it means. I'm just not very good at it."

Donnie said, "Well I don't remember us doing anything out of the ordinary. Andrew makes a fool of himself regularly, but no more than he did before the girls were born."

I said "Hey! Hey! Hey! This is not supposed to be about me. We're discussing the children here. We've got to talk about last night. That man, that Joseph Williams according to his driver's license, who broke in and tried to take one of the girls."

Deirdre looked appalled. "What did he want with one of the girls? You called him a child molester. Was he really?"

I shook my head. "No, things are not as they seem. His name isn't Joseph Williams. His papers were false. His real name is Ralph Morris and he works for the government, specifically he's a special operative working for the Attorney General."

They looked aghast. "What does the Attorney General want with our children? And why would they go to this extreme? How do you know all this?"

"I think they went to this extreme because they couldn't break into our system. A while back I started the eGirls programming a firewall to end all firewalls. Actually we ended up with a multi-layered system. It was really Em's idea, even though Edie and Eddie did most of the actual programming. It requires a sick mind like Emmy's to come up with something like this."

"Instead of making it impossible to break in, we gave them a few cracks that would let a good hacker slide through. We let them see information after they broke through. It was reasonable information but it was all false."

"Depending on how thorough our hackers were, they might leave it at that. But once they found their info was garbage, they would probably come back and try to dig deeper. We gave them three more walls to break through, each one with plenty of information behind it, all of it false. We had a ball coming up with the mis-information, by the way."

"Each wall was progressively harder to break through. If some enterprising hacker made it through all four walls we gave him a reward."

Dee Dee asked, "A reward? What kind of reward?"

I think I may have looked a little guilty. "It's a naked picture of Donnie. Anyone good enough to break through four firewalls programmed by our little girls deserves something special."

Donnie hit me on the shoulder. "You are awful! You didn't let the girls see that picture, did you? You know that picture was just for you!"

I said, "Baby, the girls see everything. They know everything. There isn't any way to avoid it, so you might as well get used to it. These little things are a different species from us. We may as well accept it. Hey if some poor sap goes to all the trouble of breaking into our server, the least we can do for him is give him a thrill. I guarantee you, he'll be happy."

Donnie blushed but looked mollified.

Dee Dee asked "But what about our real information? Won't that be compromised?"

Andrew laughed. "It will take another super-genius to come close to it. Heck, we don't even keep it on the server. We don't even keep it in the computer room. They can come and confiscate all our hardware and they wouldn't get our database. I've got the smartest programmers on earth working on this, honey. It's a done deal."

Dee Dee kept up. "So how do you know all this?"

"I told the girls to listen to Morris's mind's answers to my questions, remember? He didn't hold anything back. He couldn't. I let Emmy know that she was to flog it out of him, if necessary. She twisted his brain and hung him out to dry. In the few minutes we had with him, he gave it all up."

Donnie asked, "Well is the government going to get him off? Will he just walk away free after trying to kidnap our babies?"

I responded in the negative. "We are among the biggest political contributors in Bullock County. We helped elect the sheriff. We helped elect the mayor. We helped elect the judges. We helped elect the County Commissioners. It's time we called in some markers."

Dee Dee was puzzled. "I always wondered why you gave so much money. You hate politicians."

"Hey, the local politicians do good work. Most local governments I've dealt with work hard for their constituency. They do so here too. They are good people. It's state-wide and national politicians I despise, regardless of party. They are almost all whores. I don't blame them. We created this fucked up political system. They are playing the hand that was dealt them. I don't blame them but I still despise them."

Donnie said, "Dee Dee you've set Andrew off again. We were talking about this guy, what's his name, Morris?"

I continued, "This guy is going down for breaking and entering and attempted kidnapping. That's a big time felony. We'll make sure that he knows that he's doing major hard time unless he talks and tells the truth. It will be easy if we can just get one of the kids, Em preferably, to be close to the action when he is in open court. She'll make him talk."

Dee Dee asked "What does the Attorney General want with us? We're not making any waves, are we?"

I nodded in the affirmative. "Honey, I have almost two hundred children and they are all telepaths. There is no way information like that isn't going to make it back to the powers that be. We told all the mothers to keep everything quiet, but who ever saw ninety women who could keep their mouths shut."

Donnie wasn't taking that. "Let he who is without sin, Andrew. You talk more than any ten women I know. Stop with the sexism and continue with your latest theory."

"Well there are two reasons we might be wanted. First, we aren't real popular with the religious right. I have all of these kids; it is general knowledge that I have two wives. Even without the telepathy angle, I'll bet there are some religious extremists who would love to move me to the top of their hate list. They would be applying pressure to the current administration, and there are a lot of religious whackos in positions of power in that group. But the fact that they went after the girls indicates they know something. Maybe it's just their IQ's. They might be interesting in grabbing a super-genius and seeing what makes her tick. But maybe it's the telepathy. Morris really didn't know the why. So I'm guessing on this."

Dee Dee asked, "What are we going to do?"

I smiled. "My little league coach always taught me the best defense is a good offense. They've got the IRS and napalm bombs on their side. But I've got Emma on my side. I think it's about time we set her loose."



Death By Fucking Ch. 15



Chapter 15: So Sapien

Deirdre’s Story

It’s obvious that if someone is after our children, they are probably after the other children of the next generation as well. Andrew is quite prolific. Before he is through he may well have another place in the Book of World Records. 

We want to notify the parents of these children. Andrew was reluctant to use email or telephones, since our calls and mail may be monitored. That’s when we learned of another of our children’s talents.

I was with Elle, reading her a story. It’s an odd thing that even though our children can speak six languages and write computer programs, and freeze felons in their tracks, they remain children.

We have every expectation that they may not reach adulthood until their twenties. It is our theory –Donnie’s and mine, not Andrew’s. We expect an extended childhood for this new species of man that needs to learn so much.

Elle is the quiet one. When she does speak, it’s usually to point out something that Emmy has done wrong. I worry about the things that she doesn’t point out.

Elle wanted to talk about the awful break-in that we endured recently. Although she is quiet and shy, her IQ is extraordinary. 

Elle asked, “Momma Dee Dee, what about our other sisters?”

I was a bit surprised. “What do you mean, your other sisters?”

She said, “Aren’t they in trouble too? The bad man came to take one of us away. Maybe he’ll want to take one of our other sisters away, too.”

I didn’t even know they were aware of any other sisters. Perhaps they had overheard something we said, or perhaps they had just read our minds. Andrew keeps reminding me that they know everything.

“Sweetie, we’re thinking of ways to tell their parents to take care of them, warn them of the danger. We’re afraid to use the phone or email because they might be tapped.” There is no reason to hide things from these girls. We’re convinced that they need all the information they can get. If they ask something, we tell them the truth as we know it. Goodness, I see I am thinking inside of an h Sapiens box. If they ask us something they will hear our version of the truth whether we verbalize it or not.

Elle said, “If you want, I can tell them.”

I felt a little dizzy, and a little nauseated. What was she saying? “Elle, what do you mean, you can tell them?”

“Oh, we can talk to each other if we want to. You know, Momma, in our heads, the same way we talk to each other here.”

It occurred to me why Elle was so quiet. In her mind she might be as talkative as Andrew. Maybe she prefers not to verbalize unless it is necessary. What does that mean for the future of mankind? No more radio talk shows. No more Rush Limbaugh. This might be a major improvement.

“Can you talk to all of your sisters and brothers? All of the children of your father?”

She looked as bemused as it is possible for a five-year old to look. “I don’t know, Momma. I can talk to lots of them. I’ve never counted. Do you want me to count? Lots of them are babies, you know. They can’t even talk.”

One couldn’t dispute that logic. I told her to talk to each one she could. They were to alert their parents about the possible danger. I emailed her a spreadsheet with the name of each of Andrew’s children and told her to check off each that she talked to. That should narrow down the list of who we had to contact directly. 

How does she contact a particular one? Do they have tMail addresses? Can she filter her thoughts by addressee? This is too confusing for a simple h. Sapien.

Andrew’s Story

Somebody in the government is interested in us – interested enough to break the law to learn about us. This government loves secrecy about its operations, so I figured the first thing to do was to shed some light on things.

This guy Williams was due to have his hearing. At least the police thought he was Williams. The eGirls let me know that his real name was Morris. We planned to be at the hearing to insure that the truth came out.

We took the liberty of talking to some people we knew in the local news establishment, telling them that this hearing for the attempted kidnapper might be pretty interesting. It was a big time crime for this area anyway so it didn’t take much encouragement to convince some radio and television people to show up, along with the newspaper guys. 

Since I’m friends with the judge, and the police, and everyone else in the local power establishment, I was able to bring Emmy into the courtroom with the excuse that she might be a witness. The real reason was I needed her to wring the truth out of our perpetrator. That poor fool won’t know what hit him.

I had clued Jake Randolph, the prosecutor, in advance that Williams might not be who he claimed to be. I told him that I was pretty sure his ID was falsified. We were tennis buddies. He comes over to our place and lets me beat the crap out of him several times a month. He knew I must have some idea about what was going down.

So when Williams took the stand, Jake’s first question was, “Please state your full name.”

Williams responded, “Ralph William Morris.” Then he looked shocked and said “No. Joseph Williams.”

The prosecutor looked surprised. “Didn’t you tell the police your name is Joseph Williams? It is Joseph Williams, isn’t it?”

The ugly S.O.B. replied “Uh, yeah, Joe Williams. Uh, no, Ralph Morris.” He looked very uncomfortable.

My buddy Jake was confused. “Which is it, Joe Williams or Ralph Morris?”

Mister ugly looked confused too. “Ralph Morris.” It came out like it was hissing between clenched jaws. “Joe Williams is an alias.” That last barely had any power behind it at all. It was like someone had reached down his throat and dragged it out. I bet someone had.

The prosecutor said, “Well I guess you’re guilty of making a false statement to the police. I could have sworn they called you Joe Williams in their report. Who do you work for Mister, uh, Morris?”

Morris was red-faced and short of breath, like he was in the middle of running a marathon. He was fighting this, he just wasn’t winning. 

“I…work…for…the…Attorney...General…
of…the...United...States.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open and there was a loud reaction from the peanut gallery. Suddenly all ears were on the ugly man on the stand.

Jake regained his composure. “Were you told to break in to the Adkins residence by your superiors?”

Morris looked like he was constipated. He was fighting something with all his might, but his might just wasn’t enough. “Yes. I was told to take a girl from the house.”

The courtroom erupted. Several local TV newshounds suddenly had visions of network access in their eyes. They were sure glad I talked them into coming.

Jake asked “Why were you told to kidnap a girl?”


Morris fell back on the old Nazi response. “I was only following orders.”

He suddenly relaxed in the chair as if the bones had drained out of his body. I heard Em’s soft thought in my mind. “Is that enough, Daddy? He’s tired.”

I squeezed her little hand had leaned over and gave her a peck on the check. “Good job, little one. You can lay off now.”

I had pretty much decided that as long as IAM remained a faceless and unknown entity to the general public, we were easy pickings to anyone who wanted to hurt us. It is time to bring IAM to public attention. Maybe it is time to bring the children of the next generation to public attention, too. 

We won’t reveal the telepathy thing we’ve got going. But the intelligence thing will be big news by itself. We are raising a group of super-geniuses here. All of my kids from every twin I’ve had the pleasure to, uh, well anyway, all of my kids are super-geniuses. 

It might not be such a good idea to bring out the actual parentage of the IAM kids. On the other hand, if known I might be nominated for father of the year on the strength of sheer numbers.

But they might be safer if they are known. I suspect that is some of the information the government wanted when it tried to break into my little database. Eddie’s and Edie’s firewalls made sure they didn’t get it. 

But they will find out themselves just by watching the comings and goings at the institute. It will take them a while, but eventually they are going to snag one of my children unless the snagging becomes too public. 

I talked to the eGirls about their half-sisters and half-brothers. I was relieved and a little shocked when Deirdre told me that they can ‘hear’ them all if they try very hard. I would think the ‘hearing’ of hundreds of minds would be overwhelming, but they said that it doesn’t hurt and there isn’t too much ‘noise’ in their heads. They can turn it on and off at will – for one or dozens. And the more they do it, the easier it is becoming. 

And if I didn’t know about this particular talent, what other talents do they possess that they have conveniently failed to mention to us?

So the cat is going to be out of the bag, so to speak. I’ve had a contractor begin to build a major league fence and security system around the institute itself. Well, around our home. We are certainly going to be the primary target for any attacks, public or private. We acquired a couple of German Shepard pups. I’m letting Emmy train them. By the time she’s done, no one will get onto our property unannounced.

This is costing money! Fortunately I’ve had Elle looking at the stock market and the commodities market for several years now. Dee Dee and Donnie gave her ten thousand dollars to play with when she was three. That just sounds weird to me. After she started to get the hang of things, she received another hundred thousand. Thank God I married two women who made a lot of money before we were married.

So Elle has been day-trading for a couple of years and doing pretty well. Her nest-egg is up to a million-five, which ain’t bad in this market. She says she would do a lot better if we would let her attend some stockholder’s meetings of certain corporations. 

She just wants to sit there and pick the brains of corporate executives who might be in attendance. By ‘pick the brains’, she means silently of course – and literally. She says it is obvious that there is stock manipulation going on, and we might as well get in on the action. She’s learning her scruples from her sister. Emma has no scruples, I’m pretty sure. 

Earlier this year Elle came to me and she looked even more beautiful and charming than normal. She wanted something. I’ve learned that most women want something, most of the time, often when they look beautiful and charming. 

She came right to the point. “Daddy, can I have ten thousand dollars? Please, please, pretty please? Okay, Daddy, okay?”

Now, that’s a request that most parents would refuse most five-year olds. When I was five, I would have run out of ideas about what to spend the money on after a couple of hundred dollars worth of candy and comic books. 

But I realize she may have different priorities, so I asked her, “What do you need ten thousand dollars for?”

Elle said, “I want to use it for the markets, of course.”

“But you’ve already got a million and a half to play with. Why do you need any more?”

“But Daddy, you told me to play it safe and not take any chances. That’s why I’ve got so little. I want to take a little and try some less solid ventures that might pay more. Could I, Daddy, Please?”

I said, “Elle, would you be gambling?”

She smiled. “Not the way I play it.” She’s a W C Fields fan. I’ve often heard her tell Emmy “Go away kid, you bother me.”

Of course I gave it to her. She knew asking was just a formality, cause I’m the world’s easiest mark. I mean, normally I might be reluctant to give ten thousand dollars to a five-year old. But when your little girl has just earned over a million dollars in the stock market, you tend to take her seriously. 

That’s one formality that Emmy doesn’t usually bother with. If she wants to do something, she does it and maybe she’ll tell me later.

I asked Elle the other day where her personal portfolio stood. It’s over fifteen million and counting. You know, there was a time when I would have gone nuts about such information. We’ve got well over sixteen million dollars, just from what Elle made in the stock market (she’s keeping separate portfolios, the family cash and her ‘mad’ money). 

I made sure her mothers are taking care of the business end of this. Knowing the eGirls, the money might just disappear in the ether as far as the IRS is concerned. The girls are not convinced of the validity of paying taxes on money they earned to a government they don’t trust. In that at least they are conservatives. They insist that the government need never know about the fifteen million.

I said to Elle, “There’s got to be a paper trail, an eTrail, some kind of trail, right?”

She looked at me like I was the most pathetic loser on the planet. “Daddy, you are so Sapien. Of course there’s got to be a trail, but it doesn’t have to lead to us.”

My feeling is: if our family suddenly has a whole lot of money, eventually someone is going to ask where it came from. So we pay some capital gains tax. Who cares? We’re rich now. We’d be slightly less rich. Infinity minus anything other than infinity is still infinity. That’s an equation most of the rich people in this damn country haven’t mastered yet. Why don’t they just pay some fucking taxes already?

So we are taking a small chunk of Elle’s winnings to build ourselves a wall between us and the world. It’s pretty sad when you think of it. We are harmless but vulnerable. 

Well, we’re not exactly harmless. And we’re not exactly vulnerable. As a matter of fact when you think of it, we are dangerous and pretty much impregnable. If the Attorney General is coming in, he better bring some napalm.

The government has no idea what a can of worms it has opened. The A.G. should have let sleeping dogs lie. We didn’t do anything to him. But now I give him six months before Em has him back in private practice. 

I told her to go ahead and bring down the whole damn administration if she wants. We’ll let the next administration know that if they want to survive, they better play ball with us. If they agree, we will all coexist in peace and harmony. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Donnie’s Story

After the news came out that we were attacked by a secret operative of the Attorney General of the United States, everyone wanted to know about us. I had my doubts, but Andrew felt that we were safer in plain sight than we were hiding in secret.

The Attorney General claimed in an interview that he never heard of this man Joe Williams or Ralph Morris, whoever he is. And he claims to have never heard of the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind or of Andrew Adkins. So now we are at an impasse.

Some people from CNN called and wanted Andrew to be on Larry King Live! They said he would be on with some Southern Baptist preacher who I never heard of, but we were assured was very important. 

Andrew said he would appear as long as he could bring one of his children. Since the children were the point, they readily agreed.

I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. We were sitting on the sofa in our living room. The girls were out back playing with the dogs. The boys were down for their naps. 

Dee Dee had a meeting to attend. We are very civic-minded. Andrew has insisted from the start that we be an important part of the local community. Now we can see why. We have friends here. It is our town.

I said “Andrew should you be on TV? Aren’t you setting yourself up as a target?”

Andrew felt he had no choice. “We’re already a target. As soon as the government decided we were important, that made us important. We’ve been in the news for days now. You and Deirdre keep turning down requests for interviews, but eventually things are going to come out. I’m don’t like news management, but here is our opportunity to manage the news ourselves. We might as well take it.”

I was worried about the inclusion of some preacher. “What about this Reverend Walters? He isn’t going to be on your side. He’ll try to make this thing into a sideshow, pressing whatever agenda he happens to favor.”

Andrew smiled. “Why do you think I’m taking Emmy? She will be my little secret weapon. She is going to hack into his computers at the church and at his home to see if anything jumps out at us. And when this guy goes on the attack – and he almost certainly will – Em will be into his head enough to learn whatever dirty little secrets he is hiding. Then I’ll cut his balls off.”

I said, “That’s a revolting analogy. Please do it verbally if at all. I thought we married a mild-mannered easy going gentleman. But now you seem to be much more aggressive. Are you getting off on this macho stuff?”

Andrew said, “Honey, I don’t see any other way to do it. I’d rather sit here in our little enclave and just raise our kids. But our kids need me to go out into the real world and fight for them. So, are you getting off on this macho stuff yourself?”

I must admit that it made me all tingly seeing Andrew act so decisively. He treats us so gently that it’s easy to forget that inside that sweet exterior beats the heart of a real man. I stood up. I reached for his hand and then pulled him up beside me. Then I stuck my tongue down his throat. 

Sometimes my lust comes upon me and I just have to take him. I pulled him into the downstairs bedroom. He calls it the “Get Andrew laid” room. Andrew is going to get laid. But first I want to taste that powerful member of his.

I threw my clothes off. I was nude in no time. His eyes were on my tits, then on my pussy, then back to my tits. He thinks I’m sexy. When he looks at me that way I feel like I could take on the Atlanta Falcons – one at a time. 

I forced him back onto the bed, slipped off his shoes and socks, unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He aided me by taking off his shirt. That beautiful dick of his was fully engorged now, sticking straight up in the air. I needed to take it in my mouth.

I kneeled between his legs and gently took that huge thing in my hands. It is as solid as a piece of steel, yet soft and smooth on the outside. My tongue licked from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip, in little loving strokes. I was holding his balls in my hand, massaging them, tickling that little spot of skin directly behind them. He loves that.

I took the end of his penis into my mouth. It’s always a new experience to adjust to his size, no matter which end he’s in. My right hand started stroking the base of his cock as my mouth sucked in the head. 

My head was bobbing up and down on his gorgeous manhood. Andrew’s eyes were closed and his breath was coming in gasps. My pussy was gushing I was so turned on by my man. 

I could tell that he was starting to get close to his completion, but when I’m like this I’m too selfish to let him cum in my mouth. I wanted him inside my cunt! 

I climbed up onto him and then slammed my pussy down onto his dick, deep and hard. Andrew groaned loudly but his sounds were drowned out by my screaming. I had my first orgasm on the way down that huge shaft. 

I withdrew several inches and plunged down again. My hands were on his chest at first, but then I sat straight up and let my hands drop to my side. I was rotating my pussy on his cock, extracting every sensation I could from the intimate contact of our sex organs. 

Then I had had enough of just feeling good. I needed to reach crazed ecstasy. I lifted myself up and then plunged down again. I used muscle power on the way up then let gravity do the work on the way down. This is my favorite use for the force of gravity.

I needed it harder, so I started doing the work in both directions. I was like a machine, rising and falling on his thick long dick. I was fucking Andrew as hard and as fast as I could. He just laid there and let me fuck him. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 15



I could feel his dick expanding. Suddenly I was screaming again. Sparks seemed to be shooting in front of my eyes. I felt him spurt against my cervix. My body clenched in passion and then everything went black.

Deirdre’s Story

Andrew and Em are to be on Larry King. The whole family drove over to Atlanta for the big event. Donnie and I dressed identically. Our dresses were attractive but conservative. We looked like the perfect Southern mommy that Andrew wanted us to look like even if we aren’t, times two. In the realm of business, Donnie and I make all of the decisions. When faced with politics, we are just two simple businesswomen. We let Andrew have his way.

The girls were all dressed alike as well, so we had five-year old quadruplets, at least to the eye of the average person. Even though they are two sets of twins, there is barely any physical difference between Edie and Eddie and Elle and Emma. Ethan and Eric are essentially twins as well. Andrew calls them the twin sons of different mothers.

We created quiet a stir when we walked into the CNN studios. To the casual observer we must look like four separate people, with clones created for the mother, son and daughter. I know it gives Andrew’s ego a boost to walk around with all of us at the same time. He’s very proud of his family.

We were escorted in to the proper studio, and there we met Mr. King. I thought he was very nice. After he left Andrew said that he was giving Donnie and me ‘the eye’, whatever that means.

Andrew wanted each set of us to dress identically because he suspected that Mr. King couldn’t resist including the whole family in some shots that went out over the network. We look so wholesome and loving that we could win the public to our side while making the Attorney General appear to be an ogre for wanting to harm us. That’s his theory, anyway.

When the show started, Andrew was seated on one side of this tri-corned interview desk (with Emmy sitting on his lap), and this Reverend Walters was seated on his opposite side. Mr. King was in the center seat conducting the interview.

Reverend Walters was wearing an immaculately tailored three-piece suit. Andrew whispered to me before he went on that Giorgio Armani must have labored for weeks to put together all of that material. Reverend Walters is a big man. Andrew said that he has so many chins that when he nods his head he applauds himself. This should be an interesting night.

Mr. King opened the show by giving the background, explaining about the break-in and the information that came out in open court. Then he turned to the fat man. “Rev. Walters, you are a close personal friend of both the President and the Attorney General. Do you believe they would do something like this?”

It was obvious to me that the good reverend intended to go on the offensive from the start. 

He said, “They would certainly never do anything against the law! But we should be focusing out attention on this man here. He is the anti-Christ!”

Andrew just sat there with an adorable little girl on his lap, looking innocent as can be.

Larry King turned to Andrew. “Are you the anti-Christ, Mr. Adkins?”

Andrew said, “I’m not anti-Christ, Mr. King. But I certainly don’t favor the kind of Christ that this man pushes, so I’m not pro-Christ either. I guess I’m Christ-neutral.”

King addressed his next question to the preacher. “What is it about Mr. Adkins that you so dislike?”

“He is a pervert, a whore and a traitor. Tell me, Andrew, (I can call you Andrew, can’t I?), isn’t it true that you’ve been having meetings with a known terrorist every week for years?”

Andrew blinked. This was obviously a new one on him. “Well, Johnny, (I can call you Johnny can’t I?) I don’t know what you are talking about. Maybe you better make yourself a little clearer.”

“Is it not true that one Joseph Mambella has been seen coming to your house weekly for years? Is it not also true that this Mambella character is a known Muslim and terrorist sympathizer? How can you explain this away? You are supporting terrorism”, he finished triumphantly.

Andrew actually laughed. “Oh, you mean Joe, the student at Georgia Southern? Sure, he comes to my house once a week. Why shouldn’t he? He’s teaching my children Swahili. Is he a Muslim? He might be. I don’t think that being a Muslim automatically qualifies one as also being a terrorist, though there are some damn fools who believe that. And I think you got the last part wrong anyway. He’s not a terrorist, he’s a Tanzanian. He’s from Tanzania.”

The good reverend saw his opening and took it. “That is on its face the poorest excuse for a lie I’ve ever heard. This terrorist is coming to your home under the pretence of teaching your innocent children Swahili! Whatever the government decides to do with you is too good for you.” 

Larry King addressed a question to Andrew. “You say that your children are learning Swahili? Aren’t they too young for that? And why such an obscure language? Why not French or Spanish or German? You must admit, Mr. Adkins that it appears a little odd.”

Andrew replied, “I admit nothing of the sort. Mr. King you are displaying your Euro-centric bias, I’m afraid. Actually, the kids are learning French and German, as well as Japanese and Chinese. My wives tell me that children learn languages best when they are very young and their brains are pre-disposed to acquiring language. If you have a problem with that, complain to them. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

Mr. King said, “Well we can clear this up easily, I guess. I see you’ve brought your daughter with you. Would you mind me asking her a few questions?”

Andrew smiled. “Not at all. Be my guest.”

Mr. King said to Emma, ‘What’s your name?”

Emma said, “My name is Emma and I’m five years old!”

Elle whispered to me, ‘Emmy’s going to give him her five-year old act. This should be funny.”

Mr. King said, “Do you know a man named Joseph Mambella?”

Emma looked confused. “Do you mean Joey? He’s my teacher!”

Mr. King asked, “Could you say something in Swahili for us, Emma?”

Emma said “Jambo. Habari? Wapi choo?” That’s all the Swahili I understand, even after sitting in on a lot of the girls’ sessions. Then she spewed out a string of other words that I couldn’t pick up. All of her sisters started to laugh.

Mr. King looked impressed. “What did you say?”

She looked innocent. She said, “Hello, how are you, where’s the bathroom. And who is the big man over there?”

I turned to Elle. “What did she really say?”

“Who’s the idiot with the fat ass?”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Elle, somebody listening to this telecast will understand what she said. Then it’s going to be all over the country.”

She nodded. “Yes, everyone will know that Reverend Walters is an idiot with a fat ass.”

Larry King looked at Rev. Walters. “Does that satisfy you, Reverend Walters?”

Walters continued on the offensive. “Not only is he consorting with terrorists, he is a bigamist and a whore!”

Larry King said, “Whoa, those are fighting words. Are you a bigamist and a whore, Mr. Adkins?”

Andrew said, “If I were, I’m sure that the government would have found a better way to come at me without trying to kidnap my children. I have only one official wife. And I’ve never had sex for money. And do you think that this administration would have hesitated to come at me with the Patriot Act if they thought they had any chance of making it stick?”

King said, “Let’s start with your first statement. You only have one ‘official’ wife. What does that mean?”

“I am living with two women. I consider both of them to be my wife. But in the eyes of the law, only Deirdre is my wife. I’ve never hid this relationship from anyone. Why should I? I love them both. If you knew them, you’d love them both too.”

King said, “I did meet your ‘wives’ earlier. They are two very beautiful women.” I heard Andrew mutter, “You got that right!” Speaking offstage King said, “Could our cameras please show the Adkins family?”

A cameraman turned his camera on our group and I saw on the monitor a picture of eight people – six children and two mothers, all fresh faced and very American looking (that’s the way Andrew wanted it).

Mr. King called over to us, “Which one is Deirdre?” I raised my hand. King said, “So Donna, what are you doing after the show?” Everyone laughed.

He turned to Andrew. “They are very lovely women. But is it right for you to be with both of them.”

Andrew told the truth. “When Deirdre and I started dating, she made it clear that Donnie and she were a package deal. I couldn’t have one without the other. It was an easy choice. I agreed to be with both of them because I love both of them.”

Andrew told the whole IAM story, about the twins and their difficulty with conception. He even told how Donnie and I arrange for certain of the more desperate twins to visit us in order to achieve conception.

The fat man said, “You see, he admits it! He is a whore and he runs a den of inequity.”

Mr. King asked Emma, “Emma, do you know what happens when women visit your house?”

Emma said, “Sure. Daddy’s helping them make babies. I have lots of sisters and brothers. Momma says that Daddy is the pro… pro… progenitor of the next generation.”

Mr. King was surprised. “Do you know what ‘progenitor’ means, Emma?”

Emma smiled. “Daddy is the father of the New Man.”

I wonder if Andrew had meant for all of this to come out. He must have, because he was smiling that little half smile he has when things are going his way – which is most of the time. He is so sexy. I was getting wet just watching him. When we get home I’m going to rape him.

Then things made another turn. Andrew had said he was going to cut the reverend’s balls off.

Andrew looked at Rev. Walters. “Sir, do you know anyone by the name of Linda Thomas?”

Walters got a strange look on his face. “I know a lot of people. I’m not sure any of them is named Linda Thomas. Who are you to ask me questions?”

Andrew said, “Perhaps your wife should know Linda Thomas, because you’ve been paying Linda child support for five years. Isn’t it odd? Linda Thomas is only eighteen years old now. How old was she when you made her pregnant?”

The fat man made a dive for Andrew over the desk. Andrew blithely stepped back and made sure that Emma was safe. 

Then he said to Larry King, “Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.”

Walters was controlled by two stage hands and removed struggling from the set. I could see that Mr. King was concerned about Emma’s safety, but Emma was obviously having a ball. She was giggling and whispering into Andrew’s ear. 

Our sweet boy is going to get it tonight. He must be the sexiest man alive.

Larry King said to his audience, “This has been a most entertaining segment. I think we should have Mr. Adkins on again in the future to tell us a little about the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. Meanwhile, in the next segment we have the Assistant Secretary of Defense here to talk about developments in the war in the Middle East.”

Donnie’s Story

On the ride home from Atlanta, Dee Dee and I could barely contain ourselves. The kids were in the back, doing and thinking whatever they do and think. 

You would imagine with six children, our car rides would be chaos. It may well be, but all the chaos is going on inside the children’s heads. We adults hear nothing. We are free to carry on our conversations without anyone asking, “Are we there yet?”

They may be asking that of Andrew, but Dee Dee and I don’t hear it. It’s wonderful. We have all the time in the world to contemplate what we are going to do to our gorgeous Andrew once we get the kids to bed. 

Both of us made a stop in the Ladies’ room before we left the studio. And we both removed our panties. We played with Andrew’s head all the way home. We would flash him some leg, then flash him a little pussy. He’s helpless against this kind of assault. 

By the time we arrived at the plantation, Andrew was panting. He may have had sex with a hundred other women since we’ve been married, but Dee Dee and I control Andrew’s libido. He is totally in our power. 

As we were getting the children out of the car, Emmy said, “We know. We know! We’ll go to bed so you three can get laid. Don’t you ever think of anything else?”

What do you say to a smart aleck little girl who can read your mind? I said, “You better hope that when you get older you have a husband as wonderful as your father. Maybe then you’ll understand how Dee Dee and I feel.”

Emma said, “I know, I know. Daddy’s the sexiest man on earth and yadda yadda yadda. After tonight, you’re not the only women who think that, you know.”

I said, “What is that supposed to mean?”

She smirked at me. “Wait till tomorrow. You’ll find out.”

I stared at her, but decided to let it drop. I was too horny to get into an argument with a five-year old. Once Andrew is in your blood you might as well face it you’re addicted to sex. If I have to be addicted to anything, this is my favorite kind of addiction. 

Deirdre and I each took one of Andrew’s hands and led him into the house. We had just watched our sweet boy calmly fend of a vicious attack on national TV and then cut his attacker’s balls off, just like he said he would. There is nothing that he can’t do. If we ask him real nice, maybe he will grow an additional penis, because that seems to be his major shortcoming. 

When we got into the bedroom, Dee Dee and I exchanged a look. We must be telempathatic, at least with each other. We always seem to know what the other is feeling. That was no big chore tonight. We both were desperate to get laid. 

I went for Andrew’s pants while Dee Dee went for his shirt. He had removed his coat and tie before we left the studio. Seeing Andrew in a coat and tie is very funny. He looks so uncomfortable. But when he was on TV he was so handsome and graceful. Maybe that is what Emma meant. 

It doesn’t matter. We had our man naked before us almost instantaneously. We pushed him on the bed and then each of us began to strip for him. Andrew was right. Larry King thinks we’re sexy. We feel sexy. Andrew is only man who will ever know how sexy we are.

I was so wet I was afraid I might drown him as I settled my pussy onto his mouth. I felt that long tongue of his snake up into my center and I shot off then and there. I had been waiting for this all night! 

Dee Dee had straddled Andrew’s cock and had slid down onto it, moaning and screeching as she went. We are so empathetic that we are learning to have parallel orgasms. I think her climax and mine augment each other, because they seem to get more intense as we go.

I was rubbing my pussy on Andrew’s mouth while Dee Dee was rubbing hers on Andrew’s crotch. Our eyes closed simultaneously and both of us shot off again! We were so aroused! 

Andrew began to get into it. I felt his tongue sliding along my lips, then licking my clitoris. Oh, God it was intense. Dee Dee was humping on Andrew’s cock. We both were rising to a peak again. Dee Dee was slamming herself onto Andrew. My thighs had clamped down on his face to keep his tongue right there! 

We both erupted a third time, but this time was over the top. The sounds of our screams filled the room. They probably filled the house. I could see Andrew’s cum leaking from Dee Dee’s abused pussy.

I couldn’t stay where I was any more. I was dizzy and disoriented. Dee Dee and I leaned on each other and slowly slipped to the bed, holding each other for support and comfort. I think I can sleep for a week.

Deirdre’s Story

I awoke in Donnie’s arms this morning. That was distinctly odd. We were both naked lying in a puddle of emissions that had seeped from both of our pussies, especially mine. I don’t know when I’ve climaxed more intensely than last night. I came three times in a half hour. So did Donnie. I could feel it. We came in unison all three times. 

We must be telempaths with each other. It just took sex with Andrew to bring it out. Andrew was already up when we awoke. The devil had gotten his digital camera and taken a picture of us girls holding each other in the nude. A huge blowup of the picture was on our dresser, waiting for us. Aren’t computers wonderful? He better keep his copy of that behind an impregnable fire wall or he is in trouble!

He also better understand that our policy of no girl-on-girl sex remains fully intact. We are sisters who love each other as sisters and who share the same man. That’s as far as it will ever go. But the picture he took was pretty sexy.

Last night Emma implied that we will have some surprises this morning. I nudged Donnie awake. We cleaned up, then threw those sodden sheets into the laundry basket. By the time we made our appearance at breakfast, both of us were fresh and clean, looking nothing like the sex maniacs who had raped our husband the previous night. To be perfectly frank, the more I thought about it, the more I felt ready for another round. Sex begets sex, as Andrew likes to say.

The eGirls were sitting at the breakfast table, eating Cheerios and looking like the cats that swallowed the canary. They were so smug that I knew something was up. Andrew was slicing up some strawberries while he was cooking our grits. I saw he had the eggs ready to put into the omelet pan, with sliced mushrooms and shallots already sautéed. 

He looked up as we made our entrance, and I could see by his face that something was up. He looked chagrined, mostly. 

I said, “Okay, Andrew, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. Ask the girls. I didn’t do anything, did I girls?”

Emma was the one who spoke. I’m beginning to think she is their representative in the verbal world. They can all speak, but Emma is the only one who likes to hear the sound of her own voice.

“Daddy didn’t do anything, Momma. The TV did it all for him.”

Donnie asked, “What is that supposed to mean, young lady?” She tries to appear stern with Emma but can never pull it off. It’s hard to come down hard on someone who can read your mind. She always knows that we are faking it.

Emmy smiled. “Why don’t we all watch CNN this morning? It might be interesting.” I saw Andrew get a pained expression on his face. He shook his head and closed his eyes. 

We generally don’t allow any TV during family time, which includes meals. This time I for one was prepared to make an exception. We turned on the small tube that Andrew keeps in the kitchen so he can watch ESPN while he cooks.

Emmy zapped the channel to CNN. It was the top of the hour. We caught the announcer’s opening tickler. “Our top story this hour: Andrew Adkins, the Progenitor. Some are calling him the sexiest man on earth. Our latest CNN poll names Andrew Adkins the man most women want to father their children. Who is he and what makes him so sexy? Coming up: the story behind the man.”

Donnie and I collapsed onto the table, laughing hysterically. The eGirls joined us in the laughter. Ethan and Eric were smiling as if they were in on the joke too. Andrew looked like he was going to be sick.

Emma’s Story

Oh boy! Daddy wants me to mess with the Attorney General’s head. I like it when he lets me do stuff like that. I’d do it anyway, but I like it when he doesn’t mind. 

I need to hack into the computers in the Justice Department. That’s pretty easy. I’ve been snooping around in most of the computers up there anyway. Just for fun I change some data every now and then. Did you know that if you add three zeros to a number, it can change a million to a billion? Botswana is going to get a lot of grain this year.

I never leave a footprint. That would be bad. Just to be safe, if I’m snooping in the Defense Department, I make sure that it looks like my computer is in the State Department. And when I’m snooping in the State Department, I make sure it looks like my computer is in the Defense Department.




Death By Fucking Ch. 15



I saw on TV that they don’t like each other very much. Maybe I can start a war between State and Defense. That would be funny.

I wonder if the Attorney General has any dirty stuff on his computer. I know what stuff is dirty. It’s the stuff that Daddy tries to block on the internet. Poor Daddy! I let him think his blocking works. I don’t even know why he blocked that stuff. I wouldn’t look at it anyway. It’s stupid.

Maybe the Attorney General would like some dirty stuff downloaded to his computer. I might even give him some dirty stuff on his home computer, too. I bet he’d like that.

Maybe I won’t tell him. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if I put the downloads in encrypted form and kind of hid them in a folder named “AG’s Stuff”. But I’ll make the encryption pretty easy to break – in case someone is looking for bad stuff on those computers. 

I’ll just download it and then start sending emails about the kind of things some people saw displayed on his monitor when they were in the Attorney General’s office. I’ll make sure that no one’s name is on the email, but if somebody tries real hard, they might find the senders were on other computers in the Justice Department.

Maybe I should copy some of those emails to some newspapers and TV networks. I heard Daddy say that the administration had the news companies in their pocket. But I bet they’d like to see those emails anyway. I think I’ll let them see them.

I saw some stuff in the Justice Department about investigations they were supposed to do on companies that were doing bad things. But some of the companies had friends in the White House and the investigations were stopped or changed. I wonder if people at the newspapers might like to know about that.

I searched all of the Attorney General’s encrypted files for that ugly man Ralph Morris’s name. I always look at the encrypted files first. That’s where the good stuff is.

I had Edie write a program to open any encrypted file I find. Eddie tested it to make sure it worked. I had to laugh when I found that the Attorney General was using 64 bit encryption. He’s mean and stupid. I found lots of Ralph Morris stuff.

Just to be safe I’ll make a copy of everything and download it to my super-safe server. Even all those funny emails that show the Attorney General isn’t a very nice man.

Maybe I’ll let some of those emails come out, somehow. Data is fun to play with. You can move it wherever you want. Sometimes when data shows up where it’s not supposed to be, people go crazy.

I love doing that. Sometimes when I’m supposed to be taking a nap, I’ll just hack around Washington moving and copying data. I’ve found lots of cool stuff in the White House that they wouldn’t like the press to know about.

I would never write a virus. Daddy says viruses are stupid and mean. I think they’re simple-minded. They are so easy to detect that eventually there will be an anti-virus program written to stop them. 

I like to do things that can’t be detected unless I want them to be. That’s more fun. I know what I did. And the people I did them to sometimes know that something went wrong. They just can’t figure out what or why.

Sapiens are fun to play with. 

Andrew’s Story

Shit hitting fan time in Washington! Whoa, who would’ve guessed that the Attorney General likes child porn? How the hell did ABC get hold of that bit of info? And shades of Enron, it seems like all kinds of major oil companies are in bed with the administration. Lots of people suspected it already, but now the illegal details are on the front page of USA Today. It looks like Emmy is now officially a ‘source close to the President’.

Man I’m glad Emmy’s on our side. I gave her six months to get rid of the AG and she did it in three. The administration is faltering. I don’t care if it falls or not. It’s too busy trying to remain upright to worry about little us. 

Ralph Morris is now unofficially revealed as someone known to the Attorney General. So the AG was caught in a lie of major proportions. This Sunday I’m going to let the eGirls watch Meet the Press. It should be good for a laugh.

These people just don’t get it. I personally am the father of the two hundred smartest people on the face of the earth. They can do anything. I think I’m the only one who knows that. I keep telling Deirdre and Donnie, and they keep being surprised about what the kids do. 

They shouldn’t be surprised. The kids will do whatever they please, make as much money as they want to make, invent what they need, hack into wherever they want to hack into. We’ve got to give them the highest moral standards possible, because otherwise we could be giving birth to a race of sharks.

My wives are sweet and innocent. They’ve long contended that the next generation will be givers, not takers. The hunter-gatherer mentality of h. Sapiens is no longer viable in a world with all these people and so few resources. They feel that our kids won’t have that mentality.

I will say that none of them have a mean bone in their body. Is it nature or nurture? Their mothers are so soft and easy to get along with, how could the children be any way other way? Even Emmy is basically just a sweet little girl who likes to affect the course of history.

I think she and Elle may be the first persons in the world to fully understand the power of the internet. They can sit at their workstations and blithely disrupt the workings of the US Government or pick up a few million dollars before they have to take a nap.

Eddie and Edie are more scientific-minded. They aren’t interested in making money and they don’t care about screwing the government. Their passions are consumed by designing systems right now.

They’ve gone about as far as they can go with software development, given the state of current hardware technology. So now they are working on designing their own hardware. 

I just sit back and watch, sometimes try to understand where they are all going with these things. It’s way over my head. They’ve all got carte blanche to do whatever they please so long as it is safe and not harmful to others (the administration doesn’t count). 

We have these two German Shepherds that are part of the family and that guard the property from intruders. They are very intelligent (for dogs), are excellent sentries, and love the eKids. 

Sometimes they will sit patiently at Edie’s side as she works. I see her talking to the dogs, explaining what she is doing. They cock their heads to the side and their intelligent eyes appear to comprehend everything. They don’t know dick.

And she treats me the same way, allowing me to sit there and watch. She talks her way through some concept and I cock my head to the side and look at her intelligently, comprehending nothing. 

Just because I fathered them doesn’t mean I understand them. ‘New Man’ Emma called it. And the damn media picked right up on that. I guess the next generation was already taken.

We had no idea six years ago when we planned for this over dinner what we were starting. I guess we were looking for some slightly smarter versions of ourselves if we were lucky.

But the eKids are as far ahead of h. Sapiens as h. Sapiens were ahead of Homo Erectus. In one generation there has been a quantum leap. We’ll learn as they grow up if their ethical universe is as advanced as their mental one. If so, Donnie and Dee Dee and I may have saved the world.



Death By Fucking Ch. 16



Chapter 16: Concerns of the Progenitor

The Year Five

Andrew’s Story

Our little head-to-head confrontation with the government, fleeting and ethereal as it was, has finally opened my eyes. Emmy almost brought down the entire US government and she didn’t even try hard. I asked her to zap the A.G. and zap him she did. 

In the meantime she was still trying to hit the tennis ball closer to the net, training the puppies to be guard dogs, doing essentially graduate work in six different languages, taking her naps, annoying everyone who came in contact with her, and watching her anime cartoons.

The Flash, Green Lantern, the Incredible Hulk and the Silver Surfer combined didn’t have such power. If Lex Luther was as smart as he thought he was, Superman wouldn’t have lasted a week. 

But Emma is smarter than I’m capable of understanding. It’s like trying to envision 65 million years. Dinosaurs died off 65 million years ago, but to my brain that number means nothing. To me it takes an eternity waiting for the water to boil. 

I understand intelligence and its degrees. I can look at an Einstein or a Jefferson and can pretty much imagine how smart they were in relation to other people. JFK once gave a dinner for Nobel laureates at the White House. In his opening remarks he noted that ‘there hasn’t been so much brilliance at this table since Jefferson dined alone’ – or something like that. Jefferson was smart, very smart. But at least you can compare him to other people.

To date I’ve been unable to calibrate the difference in intelligence between a really smart h Sapiens and New Man. There is a gulf there that defies my imagination.  

Our girls are babies – five-year olds. Elle sits at her workstation and makes decisions affecting millions of dollars while sucking her thumb! Edie has to choose between writing the best code in the history of computing or playing on the swing. 

We haven’t begun to see the limit of their abilities. And that is just individually. What can they do together, knowing they communicate telepathically? Is it possible that their brains can be cumulative? Can they add their brainpower together? Is it a network of minds, or can it become one super-mind? Even that begs the question. Individually each is a super-mind. What do they get if they can add them together? 

I’ve been having these crazy thoughts ever since Emmy snapped her fingers and the government rolled over. For a while there we had this ‘us-versus-them’ mentality going on here. It was our family against the world. 

But I’ve had the fleeting thought that maybe the ‘us-versus-them’ scenario might start to involve one species against another. Right now it’s six billion against two hundred. Could the six billion win? More importantly, should they win?

It all boils down to ethics. Are my little munchkins sheep dogs or wolves? That is the question. How did this evolutionary thing work related to their take on the world? I’m not sure that compassion is something that can be legislated or even taught at this level. It better be home-grown.

We may be able to teach the kids our values or not. But how their brains are pre-disposed to work is going to be the determining factor for the future of h. Sapiens. I suppose there is nothing to do but love them and hope they love us back. 

The children can’t teach themselves everything, even with the internet. There are facts and concepts that they need to be taught. It isn’t all instinctive, even with my little Einsteins. So the wives started to home-school the eGirls before they turned four. 

One of the nice things about Statesboro is that it is a college town. We engaged some graduate students from Georgia Southern to teach the kids their particular specialties, first languages then things like calculus, physics and economics (I handled the computer programming education myself – at least I’m good for something around here), and suddenly we had our own little school. 

None of the IAM kids will ever fit into a normal school environment. Talk about disrupting the curve! Now that Elle has earned some big bucks we’ve decided to address the educational needs of all the members of the next generation by creating our own college. 

This is going to require that Elle earn a lot more than fifteen million dollars. But once we have a proper endowment, we can create a place where all of the children of the next generation will fit in. I mentioned it to her last week. I said that if she could maybe grow her personal fund to more like fifty-million we might have a use for it.

It isn’t selfishness on my part. What does Elle care what we do with the money? From her point of view she’s just playing Monopoly only with real cash. I’m telling her to get Boardwalk and Park Place and then put a dozen hotels on them and hope someone lands there. If we are going to build New Man University we can’t do it on the cheap. Maybe next year.

The Year Six

Deirdre’s Story

Sometimes we’ll watch the news as a family. We don’t allow a lot of television in our house. Andrew watches certain sporting events, we watch old movies (though usually on tape or CD), and then we select shows that are acceptable for the family or just the children to watch. Occasionally the news is one of those shows.

We never watch the local news, since it is driven by violence and fires. Ratings dictate that it not be ‘news’ but ‘entertainment’. A sad number of h. sapiens finds disastrous occurrences to their neighbors to be entertaining, but we are not among that number. 

We will watch the world news sometimes, though Andrew prefers to watch BBC World News, claiming that coverage provided by American networks is often ‘influenced’ by the government. Perhaps he is being paranoid.

We were watching the news when the very, very British announcer noted that “the Ambassador to the United States from Botswana has visited the US Secretary of State, requesting that US aid in the form of wheat shipments be halted for the remainder of the year. It seems that the warehousing capability in that country has reached the limit of its capacity. There is no where else to put the wheat. Sources claim that a ‘computer glitch’ had increased the grain due to go to Botswana from 50 million to 50 thousand million dollars worth.”

The girls were lying on the floor watching the news. I heard Emma comment, “I sure hope they like sandwiches in Botswana. Maybe they could use some peanut butter and jelly.”

Everyone laughed when she said that except for Andrew. I was surprised when he said, “Emmy, lay off of the State Department, do you hear me?”

She looked back with her innocent eyes and said, “Yes, Daddy.”

The news continued. After a few minutes, Andrew, whose eyes never left the tube, said “How much?”

I didn’t know what he was talking about. I asked, “How much what?”

He didn’t look at me. He was still watching TV. He said, “Come on, Emmy, how much?”

Like me, Emma asked, “How much what, Daddy?”

He said, “Just tell me how much peanut butter and jelly you sent to Botswana.”

I laughed. It was the silliest question I’d ever heard.

But Emma took the question seriously. “Not much, Daddy; only thirty tons. Each.”

He sat up at that. “You sent sixty tons of peanut butter and jelly to Botswana?!”

She still looked innocent. “But they have to do something with all that bread they are going to make!”

Donnie asked, “Do they even eat PB & J in Botswana?”

Elle answered, “They do now!”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so shocked in my life. My seven year old was sending peanut butter and jelly to strange countries around the world. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. Why did she do it? Andrew on the other hand seemed neither shocked nor very surprised.

He sat back in his chair with a resigned look on his face. ‘Em, just knock it off, will ya’?”

Emma said, “Okay, Daddy.” I guess the subject was closed.

Donnie’s Story

Ever since Andrew was on television last year, we’ve been besieged with requests for his services, his sexual favors, as it were. In a way it is funny but a little sad to receive these proposals from all over the world. Most are from average women in the real world who want Andrew to impregnate them or just want a chance to get him into the sack. 

Those we toss, except for the really outlandish ones that we save for Andrew to read. He likes the ones that include pictures; sometimes in poses that are suggestive, sometimes in poses that are obscene. Why not give him a little vicarious pleasure?

But many are from IAM twins. These we take seriously. Our waiting list of twins is well over a thousand now. I can tell that this is starting to get to Andrew. This particular ‘chore’ has never been on his list of favorite things to do. Now it seems to be endless and daunting.

Perhaps some men might look at this as a fantasy come true – a thousand women just waiting for the opportunity to be impregnated at one’s beck and call. But the reality might not be as attractive as the fantasy.

We had set him up for a ‘twofer’. Both twins in a single set needed impregnation and wanted to have it done in one session. We had acquiesced to this request, as it saves Andrew time – he could save himself a whole afternoon by doing two for the price of one.

These girls, Debbie and Delia, were extremely attractive – model level attractive - in their late twenties or early thirties. We called Andrew out of his office and introduced him to the twins. It was obvious to me that he was everything the twins had hoped for. They were practically salivating.

We talked for a short while as is our custom. Andrew occasionally glanced at these lovely young things, but I must admit to being relieved that he gave his primary attention to Dee Dee and me.

At times like these Andrew seems even more affectionate to us than he normally is. When our chat was completed, each of our guests having downed a glass of wine, Andrew came to us and gave us each a passionate kiss, then a hug and an affectionate little peck on the cheek. 

He led the twins into the ‘Get Andrew Laid” room and for the next two hours we heard the occasional scream coming from the room, usually accompanied by someone calling Andrew’s name. He was performing to specs, as usual. Our sweet boy has never let anyone down yet.

Finally Andrew left the room and went upstairs to shower. Dee Dee and I waited a reasonable time and then entered the bedroom. As often happens, these girls were wasted. They were collapsed in a heap on the bed, asleep. 

We woke them up, explained to them what happened (the term “death by fucking” may have come up) and showed them where to clean up. When they came back into the living room they seemed reluctant to leave. They asked if they could say goodbye to Andrew, so we called him back into the room. 

They couldn’t have been nicer and thanked Andrew for his help. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with their thanks. I could tell he would rather be back in his office working. 

As the twins made their way to the door, Andrew looked at me with that sexy little smile of his and said, “So Donnie, what are you doing after?” Well, I guess I’m doing after whatever Andrew wants me to do. That smile of his gets me every time.

Eventually they left, happy and pregnant I suppose. At least they were happy.

The next day we were seated in the living room just shooting the breeze when Andrew wandered in from his office. He looked lost. He looked sad. Deirdre looked at me. I looked at her. We both had the feeling: Andrew had reached his limit.

He sank into an overstuffed chair. He didn’t look at us, he looked at the floor. He didn’t talk. We had to have this out with him. He needed us to take the lead.

Deirdre said, “Well Andrew, are we to assume that you just don’t want to do this anymore?”

Andrew looked up. He saw us staring at him. He looked like he might cry. We’ve never seen our love so down. It was heartbreaking.

He said, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. All these women need what I have. Why can’t we find any other men? To be honest, ladies, I just don’t know how much more I have to give.”

We know it’s serious when he calls us ‘ladies’. It’s ‘girls’ when he’s feeling good. It’s ‘ladies’ when he is all business. Andrew is incapable of hiding anything from us. He doesn’t even try.

I said, “What’s eating at you sweetheart?”

He looked miserable. “I’m just so tired of this. Don’t get me wrong. I love making love. It’s my favorite thing. But with these women I’m not making love. I’m fucking. Donnie I’m all fucked out. 

When we are together, you and me and Dee Dee, every second is precious. Each day we find time to be with each other. The sexual part of it is wonderful, but it’s the being with each other that makes it wonderful.

I only want to be with you. Taking away the love aspect of the act makes it clinical and boring and sad. I’m trying my best to make these women happy. I even think I pull it off most of the time. But I’m not happy. 

I’m sure most of them are very nice people. But how the hell would I know? They come; we fuck; they go. Ten minutes after they are gone I don’t remember their names. 

If you brought the same ones back the day after tomorrow I wouldn’t notice. They are all nameless and faceless. This is depressing. Please, please let’s find someone else to perform the stud service. I just can’t do it anymore.”

Deirdre said “What about those matches you made from the website? Have any of those been successfully mated?”

Andrew said, “Well yes, we’ve had dozens of marriages. I don’t know about children, I just haven’t thought to look at the statistics. They post their own information if they feel like it. You know I’m lousy with these accounting things. I’m a programmer, damn it!”

“And even if there have been children, we don’t know if they are children of the next generation, New Man. They might just be another generation of girl twins, smart average homo sapiens.”

Dee Dee perked up. “I know how we can find out!” She turned toward the back window.

Elle came scurrying in from the outside. The eGirls were playing tag with the dogs. There is some kind of odd bond between those girls and those pups. The pups seem so much more intelligent when the eGirls are around.

Our little girl came in, out of breath. “What do you want, Mamma?”

Deirdre looked at us smugly. “With our kids you don’t have to scream to get their attention.” To Elle she said, “Sweetie, do you remember that list we made up for you to contact your other sisters and brothers?”

Elle said, “Sure, Momma. I still have it in my computer. I contacted everyone on the list who could talk.”

Dee Dee asked, “Were there any children that you contacted that weren’t on the list?”

Elle looked puzzled. “No Momma. You told me to contact the kids on the list.  There were lots of kids not on the list, but I didn’t contact them. I figured that if you wanted me to reach them you would have told me.”

Andrew jumped out of his seat, grabbed Elle and spun her around over his head. He was laughing and hugging her. She was laughing too, mostly from the intensity of her father’s reaction. I’ve never seen him so relieved. This must have been awful for our sweet boy. He was enduring this for so long and never said anything to us! 

Who would have guessed? Given the opportunity to have sex with many different women and with our consent, he only wants us! He only wants me! He only wants Deirdre! 

We have the sexiest man on earth as verified by every CNN/ABC poll. His picture is on the cover of People Magazine regularly, usually with a picture of Brittany Spears or some other sex kitten somehow inserted next to him as if he actually knew them. We have proposals of marriage and proposals that are far less decent arriving in our mail every day. 

And yet he only wants us, his two dowdy, middle-aged wives. Both Deirdre and I were actually crying. This was something inside us we didn’t even let ourselves know about. 

We are all business during these trysts that we ourselves set up for our husband. We encourage him to perform well. We chat with these women, help them recover from the shock of the greatest sex they could ever imagine and send them on their way.

And yet somewhere inside of us so deep we didn’t even recognize it was this seed of doubt. We had this doubt about what this was doing to our marriage. Were these women what he wanted? Many were far more beautiful than we are. Would Andrew prefer them?

How could we ever doubt him? In his heart he’s been true to only us from the moment we met. We were crying and then we were hugging each other, crying on each other’s shoulder. Andrew let Elle down and she ran out towards the back.

As she reached the door she turned to us. “Daddy, I think Momma Dee Dee and Momma Donnie need you. Make love to them. That will make them feel better.” And then she was gone. Our six year old is wise beyond her years.

Both of us opened our arms and welcomed Andrew in. We were crying. He was crying too. This thing had been happening that could have caused a rift between us and we never even recognized it! 

Poor Andrew was performing because we asked him to, not because he wanted to. He will do anything for us, even something so against his nature. Our love is pure and permanent. It feels so good to know it again.

Suddenly Andrew took each of us under an arm, me on his right, Dee Dee on his left, and carried us up the stairs like two sacks of laundry. He wanted us. But he wanted us in our bedroom. We were going to make love to our husband! I don’t remember when I was this happy.

Deirdre’s Story

It wasn’t what I expected. Often when our lust comes upon us our love-making sessions are wild and demanding. He takes us or we take him. There are intense orgasms and there is rampant passion, sometimes to the point of lost consciousness. This wasn’t one of those times.

Andrew placed us on our bed. And then he ever so gently began removing our clothing. He kissed us lovingly, softly. He was so romantic. We are an old married couple – oh, triad, who cares about the terminology – and yet our love is deep and pure. It has endured through everything that has been thrown our way.

He was attentive, gentle and loving. We gave back to him in kind. Ours is the love that every woman dreams about when she is young, but very few can ever fully achieve. 

Andrew and Donnie and I are forever. Subconsciously we had this fear of loss. And yet it was an irrational fear, the kind of fear that is in every Homo sapien because he is truly isolated. We can only know we are loved by the actions of others. 

It was then that I had my revelation, my theory! It is the theory that is mine, and belongs to me and what is. I suddenly knew that Andrew’s other fear, the real long-term fear that he held, not about us and our marriage but about New Man, was totally unfounded. Our children know love! To them love isn’t an abstraction, it’s a physical presence. Every h. sapien knows what it like to love, but none really knows what it is like to be loved.

New Man, our daughters, can feel the love of others. Donnie and I love them unconditionally! But Andrew! Andrew is capable of love like no other person I ever knew. They must feel constantly enveloped in his love. They are safe and secure because of him, because of all of us.

Love will save h. sapiens. New Man will care for us because they love us and because we love them. Theirs is a world where compassion is not a concept but a constant. It’s as we hoped so long ago. I know it is. The urge to hurt, to dominate, to abuse, can only come from isolation. For New Man, no man will ever be isolated again.




Death By Fucking Ch. 16



Andrew was looking at me with concern. “Sweetheart, you look to be a million miles away. What’s wrong?”

I smiled. I was so happy! All of my fears, real or imagined, conscious and subconscious had been laid to rest today. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Andrew. Everything is so right! Make love to us now. Later we’ll talk. The world is going to be wonderful, not just for us, but for everyone!”

The Year Seven

Andrew’s Story

My buddy Jake called. I figured he wanted to change our tennis date or something. But no! He had some news and he wanted to torture me with it.

“Drew, you are my hero! What a man! Here I thought you were this pussy-whipped little dweeb who could occasionally hit a tennis ball. Now I find out you are God’s gift to women.”

Now what? Don’t I have enough trouble as it is? I asked him. “Okay, Jake. Tell me the bad news. What’s going on?”

He sounded smug. “So Drew, have you perused the latest copy of Playboy yet?”

Playboy? Now what the hell! “You know perfectly well that my wives would have a shit-fit if I brought that magazine into the house. I am pussy-whipped for crying out loud. Tell me, damn you. What’s in Playboy that’s going to make my life even more miserable than it already is?”

Jake said, “I think your wives may want to take a look at this one. The playmates of the month are on the cover.”

Uh oh, I could see a disaster about to happen. “Playmates, as in plural?”

Jake knew he had me now. “Playmates as in twins. Oh, yeah, and such lovely young things, you lucky son of a bitch. The story inside is titled “Death by Fucking: Getting knocked up by the Progenitor”.

I started in with “ahubada, ahubada, ahubada.” What do you say to news like that? I asked him “Are we still on for tennis this afternoon?”

He said, “Sure, if you have time between girls. You slut!”

“Don’t start with me, Jake! Bring the fucking magazine with you, will you? My wives had better hear it from me. I don’t want them to hear this from some fucking biddy at a club meeting. So who are these twins, anyhow? Do they look good?”

He laughed. “What are you, sick? If I fucked these chicks, their faces would be permanently embedded on my brain. And you don’t even know which ones they are? What the hell am I doing wrong? Tell me, oh great one. How do I get a gig like yours?”

I was serious. “Jake, you knock up just one of these damn IAM twins and I swear to you I’ll give you all the bootie you can handle. Take them all! Just don’t take my wives. Please.”

Donnie’s Story

Jake Randolph, the county prosecutor, was coming over this afternoon for his weekly tennis match. Jake had played for UNC and is quite good. Andrew was a state champion in high school and starred at Youngstown State in Ohio. They are evenly matched and are quite entertaining to watch, especially in light of the insulting banter that flies across the net almost as quickly as the tennis balls.

Dee Dee and I make a habit of sitting in the back yard with glasses of iced tea, watching the match and chatting. Jake is a very attractive man. We quite enjoy watching two tennis studs plying their talents under the hot Georgia sun, sweating and looking sexy. 

By the time the match is over, we are both ready for anything Andrew has to offer, if you know what I mean. My life is good.

But today was going to be different. We received a phone call the other day from a writer for Cosmopolitan magazine. She was eager to interview Deirdre and me of all people. We were reluctant to agree, but she pressured us, saying that she had some news that would be of great interest to us, and wanted to get our reaction to it. 

We finally agreed to see her. She arranged to fly down to visit us this afternoon. She came by a little after 4 o’clock. I knew that Andrew was scheduled to play his match with Jake at 4:30. We were sitting in our living room getting acquainted when Andrew passed through on his way up to get ready for his match.

This woman, Helen Gammon was her name, was lovely in a thin, fashion-model kind of way. She looked to us to be competing with the covers of her own magazine. 

When Andrew saw her sitting there his face fell. He said “Uh, Donnie, did we have an appointment scheduled this afternoon? I thought not. I’m playing Jake in twenty minutes, you know.” He turned to this Gammon woman. “How are you? I’m Drew Adkins. And you are…”

I jumped in. “This is Helen Gammon. She’s come to talk with Deirdre and me, Andrew. Go play your game and don’t bother us.”

The relief on his face was palpable. “Oh, Okay. Sorry to interrupt.” And he was off.



Ms. Gammon said, “He seemed sorry to see me.”

I wasn’t sure how to put it. “Well Deirdre and I schedule several women a week to visit with Andrew. It’s part of his work with the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. He thought you were one of those women.”

The lady said, “I suppose I should feel insulted. I know what ‘his work’ is. Am I that ugly that the Progenitor would rather play tennis than make love to me?”

Dee Dee demurred. “It has nothing to do with you, Ms. Gammon, and it has nothing to do with making love. Andrew performs ‘his work’ out of duty, not out of desire. His would prefer to stop altogether. He doesn’t ‘make love’ to these women. He only makes love to us. The women he impregnates. Because of the needs of IAM, we haven’t been able to allow him to stop.”

She said, “Wow, that’s news if I ever heard it. Andrew Adkins prefers his wives.”

I was a bit miffed with this New York bitch. I said, “Perhaps we should get to the point of this interview. You said you had news for us and wanted our comments.”

She looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. She said, “There is an article in Playboy magazine. The current issue hits the stands today. The title of the story is “Death by Fucking: Getting knocked up by the Progenitor.” 

Helen’s Story

I expected any of a number of reactions from these two women who were the wives of this ‘Progenitor’: hurt feelings, anger, panic, tears, at the least embarrassment. I was looking forward to it. My story would be the female angle: what it is like to be cuckolded in front of the nation by two gorgeous playmates. 

Instead these two clones that looked surprisingly like Joanne Woodward began to laugh. It reached the point that they were leaning on each other’s shoulders with tears streaming down their cheeks. 

When they regained control, one of them (I have no idea which one, they are as alike as two peas in a pod) asked, “Did you bring a copy for us to see?”

I could have kicked myself. “No, I’m sorry. It totally slipped my mind. I do know that the story is told by the Playmates of the Month: twins.”

The two women smiled and I suddenly realized that they are incredibly beautiful. Their eyes lit up as if a switch had been turned on. I must admit that I suddenly wondered if they had ever considered going both ways. I’m bi myself. I prefer men, but if the right woman comes along, I’m game. I’ve never had two women at once before, though. I was getting wet just being around these lovely things.

The doorbell rang and one of the twins got up to answer. I heard her say “Jake! So good to see you. What’s that you’ve got under your arm?”

I couldn’t see the man in question, but I heard him say, “Uh, it’s nothing, really. Just something I promised Drew I’d let him look at. I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested.”

The twin was dragging this very attractive man into the living room. He was tall and slender, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was very similar, in fact, to the Progenitor, though not nearly as handsome. It was obvious to me that the man was very uncomfortable about something. 

The other twin stood up as the man entered the living room. “Helen Gammon, meet Jake Randolph. Jake is our local county prosecutor. He visits us once a week to try to determine the tennis champion of Bullock County. No definitive winner has emerged yet.”

The man, Jake, eyed me with interest. “Uh, Dee Dee, would you like me to come back later? Does Drew have time to play tennis?”

I was wondering if everyone in this town knows about Andrew Adkins’ ‘work’ for IAM. It was obvious that this lawyer thought I was here for Andrew. I said, “I’m a writer for Cosmopolitan, here to interview Deirdre and Donna. Feel free to play your tennis match.”

One of the twins looked to be ready to laugh again. “Yes, Jake, she’s here for us, would you believe. Now what is that you’ve got tucked under your arm?” 

Before he could respond, the twin reached in and grabbed it. It was obviously a magazine discretely wrapped in brown paper. The twin slipped the magazine out of the wrapping. Of course it was the current issue of Playboy, with two very beautiful, very naked twins on the cover. The headline on the cover was “Making Andrew Adkins”.

One of the twins said, “Check it out, Dee Dee. Do you remember them?”

The other, Deirdre I suppose, said “Oh my God! What were their names? Debby and Delilah, something like that.”

The other, I guess she was Donna, said, “Delia. Her name was Delia. They were good looking, but not this good looking. The air brushers must have worked overtime to make them look this good.”

Deirdre laughed. “Don’t be a bitch, Donnie. They have the bodies, the boobs, and the faces. I thought they were Playboy material when they came to visit Andrew last year. It’s only been a little over a year. Give them credit for getting their bodies back in shape so soon after having their babies.”

Donnie (I thought her name was Donna, but her sister called her Donnie) said to the man, “Go on and play your tennis match, Jake. I know you’re dying to screw Andrew into the ground about this. Don’t hesitate. When you’re done, we’ll take over. This is going to be a fun night!”

I sat down and took out my notepad, starting to jot down some comments about the little scene I had just witnessed. This was not going the way I had envisioned. I had imagined this Andrew Adkins to be a dictatorial jerk, intimidating his meek and mild wives into living with his perverted lifestyle. Now I’m not so sure who runs this household after all.

I said, “You don’t seem very upset about all this.”

They had sat back down and I had no idea which was which. One said, “Upset? Why should we be? We knew what we were getting in to when we decided to go public about things. The government was after our children. Once that came out, how could we hide the rest?”

“But aren’t you upset about your husband being with all of these other women? He must have been with hundreds of women, am I right.”

One responded, “No it’s closer to a thousand. He does it because we’ve asked him to do it. The IAM women find it extremely difficult to become pregnant. Many are desperate for children. Andrew has the gift of being able to impregnate them with no difficulty. It must be a genetic thing. Andrew gives himself to these women to please us. The day we tell him to stop, he will never look at another woman.”

I found that hard to believe but let it ride. “And how do you feel about him being with these women? How do you feel about information like this Playboy article? The whole nation knows that your husband cheats on you regularly!”

One seemed angry with me. Good. She said “Andrew never cheats on us. There has never been a man with more fidelity in his heart than our Andrew. He does what we ask him to do and no more.”

I tried to follow up. “But doesn’t it affect your love lives? How do you feel, giving up your own love lives so that your husband can be wildly promiscuous?”

The other twin, the calm one, laughed again. “You’re trying to bait us. I’m afraid it won’t work. We haven’t given up our love lives at all. How often do you get it, Ms. Gammon? We both get laid every day of our lives. Sometimes we get it twice a day. Andrew gives us all the loving we can handle and still has enough left over to be as you so archly put it, ‘wildly promiscuous’. Andrew’s work in service of IAM has not affected our love lives a little bit.”

I was having a difficult time maintaining my journalistic detachment. Perhaps my mouth was hanging open. “You get laid every day of your lives; both of you? How is that possible?”

One looked smug. I suppose she had every right to be. “Andrew finds us irresistible. He can’t keep his hands off of us, not that we want him to. We feel the same way about him, by the way. I’ve never met a woman who wouldn’t give her eye teeth for a chance to get Andrew Adkins in the sack. We don’t mind that women feel that way. We feel that way ourselves.”

I said, “Yes, well, he is quite attractive. But he finds you irresistible? Yes, I can see why. Well this isn’t going exactly as I had planned, to be honest. You two aren’t what I expected.”

One smiled and said, “I assure you, Andrew isn’t what you expected either. He is the sweetest kindest man alive. If you are looking for some aggressive overbearing stud that uses women and then casts them aside, you are looking in the wrong place. Yes, Andrew is extremely sexy. He likes sex. It’s his hobby. But it’s our hobby too. Everyone needs to have a hobby.”

“And although he is all man, we, Donnie and I, run the family businesses. You see, we both have our PhD’s in Business Management from Duke University. Andrew always defers to us when making financial decisions.”

“But outside of that, and outside of the fact that he is beautiful (you noticed that he is beautiful, I suppose), he is also loving and kind, affectionate and warm. And he is a dedicated husband and father.”

I said, “Oh, yes. You have six children, don’t you?”

One responded, “What I don’t understand is why you media people are so interested in Andrew. The real story is the children, you know. Andrew is the first to admit that. Our Andrew is a sweet, stodgy, set-in-his-ways man who looks great and is probably the world’s greatest lover, but otherwise is just a man. Our children are the smartest people on the face of the earth, and no one is the least bit interested.”

I was surprised. “What do you mean, ‘the smartest people on the face of the earth’?”

The blonde on the right asked “What could we mean? Einstein, Edison, Plato, Leonardo, pall next to these kids. They are a different species than h. sapiens. We aren’t making this up. Our children, all of the IAM children fathered by Andrew, are super-geniuses. Why do you think the government wanted them?”

I said, “It never occurred to me. I knew they were smart. But how could they be as smart as you say they are?”

The one on the left said, “We aren’t saying how smart they are. We are incapable of knowing how smart they are. We only know that they are smarter than any h. sapien that ever lived. Mozart was writing symphonies when he was a child, so perhaps he was close. But one of our daughters made her first million when she was four.”

I laughed. I’ve heard bullshit before, but these women were in a class by themselves. “You’ve got a daughter who is a millionaire. And she earned it herself? How does she do it, print it on a computer?” Come on girls, stop treating me like an idiot, I was trying to say.

The one on the right said, “She’s a day trader. We gave her ten thousand dollars when she was three so she could learn the markets. Then we threw in another hundred thousand when she was four. By the time she was five she had built it up to a million and a half. Andrew thinks that that information set off alarms at the IRS, who then informed the Attorney General. We don’t know, but it’s a theory he’s working on.”

I was still in denial. “So you’ve got a daughter that has earned a million and a half dollars on the stock market?”

Lefty said, “No, she also plays the commodities markets. And she’s earned closer to a hundred million dollars by now. If you noticed the construction going on a few hundred yards from our property, that’s New Man University. Its total endowment is coming from the money Elle earned playing the market.”

I asked “How about your other children. You have four daughters and two sons, right?”

Righty said, “Yes. Well, Edie and Eddie, two of our daughters, are interested in scientific things. Andrew claims they are the two best computer programmers on earth, though we have nothing to base a comparison on and must take his word for it. He says that when they were four, they were so dissatisfied with Windows and Unix that they wrote their own operating system, one that was far more stable and secure.”

“They are planning programs that are too complex for available hardware, given the current state of technology; something about available RAM, internal speeds, multi-parallel processes. I don’t know. They are therefore designing their own hardware to accommodate their own programming. That’s what Andrew tells us. Edie and Eddie don’t talk much about their work.” I heard the other one mumble, “They don’t talk much, period.”

I said, “That leaves your sons and one daughter, right? What about them.”

Lefty said, “Eric and Ethan are younger and are in the learning stages. Eric wants to be a baseball player. He can really hit, by the way. His t-ball coach says so. Both of them help Edie and Eddie with programming. They build things as well. Ethan talks of being an architect. He wants to integrate structures with nature and remove the man-made look of the world. Of course, he’s five and can have such dreams. They may even come true someday if New Man takes over.”

I asked, “And what of your last daughter. What’s her name?”

Righty said, “Emma. Emma is a bit different. She does her own thing and we leave her alone with it. We’re not quite sure what she does, but whatever it is, I’m sure it is brilliant. We’ve learned that everyone is more comfortable if we don’t ask Emma what she is up to.”

Well that was a distinctly odd answer. The children did sound fascinating, and perhaps at another time I could follow up on their story. But I write for Cosmo, not Scientific American. I was here for the juicy parts, the sex lives of the Progenitor and his harem. I wanted to learn more.

Righty asked, “Would you like some lemonade? Why don’t we go out on the patio and watch the boys play tennis. Our children are working right now. The eGirls are in the computer room. The eBoys are having their Russian lesson in the library. If you’d like to meet them I’d be glad to bring them out.”

I had to ask, I guess. “Why do you call them the eGirls?”

Lefty smiled and said, “That’s Andrew for you. If you noticed, all of their names begin with the letter “E”. They are members of the “E” generation from IAM’s point of view, just as Donnie and I are members of the “D” generation. You’ll remember that the Playmates are named Debbie and Delilah. They are also part of the “D” generation. But Andrew took the “E” generation and added the whole modern feel to it, like eBusiness and email. They are the eGirls.”

Righty said, “The woman’s name is Delia, Dee Dee. Are you getting senile?”

Lefty said, “I was too busy looking at her breasts to notice her name. From Andrew’s point of view they were far more than a mouthful. I wonder if they are real.”

We retreated to the back yard. They have a world-class tennis court, and Andrew and his tennis partner, Jake, I think, were going at it. It was obvious that both of them are excellent. They were hitting powerful strokes, then making obscene and unlikely comments to each other. It seemed that the purpose of the comments were to make their opponent laugh and miss the ball. I realized that as good looking as this Jake was, Andrew Adkins, the Progenitor, was a hunk!

I was watching the tennis, but my eyes kept straying to Andrew. Damn, he’s gorgeous! One of the twins obviously caught me. She asked “How are you enjoying the game, dear?”




Death By Fucking Ch. 16



I was a bit embarrassed. “He is very good, isn’t he?”

The same one said, “He’s even better than you might imagine, honey. Have you read the Playboy article yet?”

I had to admit that I hadn’t. We couldn’t get a pre-publication version of the story, and I just plain forgot to pick up a copy at Kennedy Airport on the way down. Twin number two handed me the copy that Jake had given her. She said, “Read it. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

What was this? The last thing I expected to find was these beautiful, intelligent, serene, self-assured women. They defied logic. Their husband was the current pop icon, even though I was beginning to suspect that the stories that made it to the cover of the National Enquirer were almost certainly false. 

Almost every woman in America lusts after Andrew Adkins, as if he were Tom Cruise or Robert Redford. I’m not one of them. Well, I hadn’t been one of them until today. Now I felt like a child in a candy store, wanting to suck on everything I see. 

Even this Jake Randolph is terrifically attractive. But the Progenitor may be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. And his wives are to die for. They are older than him, significantly older as I understand it. And yet they are majestic in their beauty and assurance. And they talk openly of sex as if it were a normal part of their everyday lives. And I emphasize the ‘everyday’ aspect. 

I’m horny enough as it is. Perhaps I shouldn’t be reading an intimate account of Andrew Adkins’ sex life. Hell, of course I should read it. I’m dying to read it.



Excerpts “Death by Fucking: Getting knocked up by the Progenitor”

You enter his Southern Plantation. It is regal, stately and beautiful. Then you meet his wives. They too are regal, stately and beautiful. 

The man himself is tall, dark, courtly and handsome. He seems so calm, so self-confident. He is in love with his wives. Debbie and I are hot! We’ve never met a man we couldn’t seduce. Yet Andrew Adkins couldn’t take his eyes off of his wives. I guess I don’t blame him. They are so very beautiful.

He may be the most handsome man I’ve ever met. When he came into the room it was all I could do to remain calm. Everyone seemed so matter-of-fact, but Debbie and I knew that we were going to be in bed with the Progenitor in just a few minutes! We were so excited that I’m afraid they could smell our wetness.

We were led into a lovely bedroom, done in colonial style. There was a huge four-poster that invited us. Debbie and I were in a hurry, but Andrew had other plans. He told us that his wives had established a rule. If we were going to become pregnant, we should have a memorable experience. His job was to attempt to make it so. 

Debbie and I have had threesomes many times before. Usually we are forced to get each other off. No man has been able to satisfy both of us. I for one was having second thoughts. I wanted Andrew to myself. Let Debbie do him another day. It turned out that I needn’t have worried.

Andrew kissed me! He puts everything into a kiss, and it was a toe-curler. Meanwhile I felt my clothes dropping off of me. When we emerged from the kiss, I was already half naked. Andrew turned to my sister and gave her the same treatment. 

I went for his clothes. I wanted to see this hunk nude. While he was kissing my sister I reached around and unbuckled his belt, then unsnapped his pants and pulled them down.

He stepped away from Debbie and allowed her to finish undressing. He told me that we had plenty of time, so if I didn’t mind he would rather do us one at a time. That way it is easier to give each girl the proper attention.

Debbie is like me, with 36D tits, and her nipples were already hard and extended. Andrew asked her to lie on the bed while he removed his clothing. He took off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Then he finished what I had begun, by pulling off his pants and shorts. 

Let me say, Andrew Adkins has one tight ass! I couldn’t resist reaching out and fondling those tight cheeks. He turned to me and smiled. He asked me to lie on the far side of the bed. He whispered that he would get to me as soon as he was finished with Debbie. 

He finally turned around and I got to see what I’d been waiting for. My God, the man is hung! It’s not as long as some porn stars I’ve seen in the movies, but it is far longer than any man I’ve ever been with. And thick! My mouth was watering. He was proudly erect, ready to take my sister.

She was prepared for him. We both were. But Andrew was not rushing. He kissed her lips, her forehead, her eyelids, her neck. His big hands were fondling her butt, her breasts, tweaking her nipples. His mouth worked down to her tits. He sucked her tits as his hand found her pussy. 

Debbie was going wild! Let’s be frank, I’ve been in sexual situations with my sister many times before. I’ve never heard her beg until now. She was so ready!

I watched Andrew slide that huge dick of his around the edge of Debbie’s pussy lips. She kept arching towards it, trying to get it in. He refused to be rushed. I was so horny myself that I found myself sliding a finger deeply into my pussy.

And then he slid it home. I could see that Debbie was already climaxing. And Andrew had yet to complete his first stroke. 

I was worried for her. How could she take that huge dick into her pussy? How could I? All I knew was I was dying to find out.

Andrew began making long, slow strokes into Debbie. Her legs wrapped around his hips, trying to keep him in. After several minutes of this (Debbie had another loud orgasm), Andrew began to pick up his pace. Debbie was trying to keep up. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were closed. Her face showed something intense… Pain? Pleasure? Both? 

Her head rocked back and forth. Moans were emitting from her lips. Suddenly her moans became screams. I heard her call Andrew’s name. It looked like Andrew was finally achieving climax! He slammed deeply into my sister’s pussy, and held there, as Debbie seemed to lose control of her body. She went limp and I realized she had passed out. 

Damn I wanted this man. He kissed her on the forehead and then pulled out. His penis still was larger than any I had ever seen. He took a pillow and placed it under Debbie’s ass. He smiled and said that his wife Deirdre recommended that as a way to help with impregnation, though he had no idea if it worked.

He turned to me and said “You’re next!” I thought I would faint. 

Andrew covered my sister up with a blanket and moved over to me. He said, “I’m afraid that I need a little recovery time. But that doesn’t mean that you should wait any longer.”

He began to kiss me, as he had kissed my sister, on my lips, on my eyelids, on my cheeks, then on my neck. He sucked on my neck and I felt myself shudder.

He worked his way to my breasts. I expected him to pay a lot of attention to my breasts. Most men do. Andrew, however, spent no more time there than he had on my neck. His hands replaced his mouth and I felt his fingers working my nipples. 

His mouth trailed down my stomach and I realized he was going there. His long arms went under my legs, and lifted. Suddenly my legs were riding on Andrew’s shoulders and he was looking me directly in the eyes. I watched him as he lowered his mouth onto my pussy.

My screams must have been heard in the next county. His tongue – what a tongue! – was deep in my pussy, then licking along the edges, then playing with my clit. I kept cumming and cumming. I don’t know how many times I came. 

Andrew finally moved up over me and for the first time I felt that huge dick of his. As wet as I was, I still was unsure whether I could accommodate the whole thing. He knew just what to do. He worked it in slowly, moving it around, and then backing out. He was teaching my pussy to take him inside of me. Each time he moved in he went deeper. I felt so full. His width was forcing me to open up.

He must have sensed that I was ready, because he made a massive stroke and suddenly that whole huge dick was tightly in my cunt. I could feel his balls against my ass. He pulled out and plunged in again. I tried to move with him, but he was so strong! Each time he bottomed out I thought I might explode. 

He had lifted my knees with his arms. I was bent over, my knees pressed against my tits. When Andrew Adkins enters you, he goes deeper than any other man. He kept increasing the speed, increasing the power of his strokes. I was building to a massive orgasm. I couldn’t take any more! I felt his dick getting larger and larger. 

Finally he was spurting inside me. It must be going straight into my womb. I screamed again, loudly. Then I was shrieking, and then I think I died.

I don’t know how long I was out. I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was then that I realized that Andrew was gone. His wives were waking us up. Debbie had slept through my entire ordeal. I didn’t want to get up. I just wanted to lay there. I felt like I had run the Boston Marathon.

The wife who was helping me whispered in my ear. “Death by Fucking."



Death By Fucking Ch. 17



(c) 2003 by thebullet

Note: This story contains quotes and paraphrased references from popular culture. The author uses these quotes and references because it amuses him to do so and because he has no life. I leave it as an exercise for the reader to identify any quotes that may have been used. If you are interested in learning what quotes were used, you may request a copy of the crib sheet by emailing the author. 

* * * * *

Chapter 17: Dinner and a Movie

The Year Seven

Helen's Story 

At the Tennis Court

I sat with Donna and Deirdre Adkins, watching as the Progenitor played tennis with the prosecutor. I'm from New York, so I expected that these people would be less than cultured, living as they do in rural Georgia of all places. I guess I was expecting a hick town and a hick family. I was mistaken.

The environment here is lovely. The house is a stately old mansion. The grounds are well-kept and open. The family is calm and intelligent. The Progenitor is playful and gorgeous. I suppose I expected none of this.

I had planned a bitchy little story designed to poke holes in this person, ridicule his pomposity. But he has no pomposity. I expected shy, foolish women. Instead I found confident scholars. And they are as sexy as he is. Even the friend, this Jake guy, has caught my eye. These people live a good life.

Just being around these beautiful people had gotten my juices flowing. Then one of the wives had given me the Playboy article to read. It was an explicit description of how Andrew Adkins had serviced two Playmates of the month during one session in this very house! 

Reading this story while stealing glances at the Progenitor as he gracefully played tennis was one of my more surreal experiences. Nothing seems to bother these people.

After I had returned the magazine to one of the wives, she asked, "What are your plans for this evening? Are you flying back to New York?"

I said, "No, if you are agreeable, I'd like to return tomorrow and continue our interview. I've got so many questions I haven't even begun to ask. I'm embarrassed to admit that you two ladies didn't meet my preconceptions. The tone and tenor of my story has to change."

She smiled her understanding. "Why don't you stay with us tonight? Jake usually stays for dinner when the boys play tennis. You would be more than welcome to join in. And you could stay in our downstairs guest room. We call it the "Get Andrew Laid" room. It's the room described in that Playboy story. It's not exactly like staying in the Lincoln Room at the White House, but at least it has been, uh, immortalized in print, if you know what I mean."

I could tell that this woman found the whole Playboy phenomenon highly amusing. She drops thinly veiled hints about her husband's sexual prowess then laughs at how a boring family man such as Andrew Adkins could achieve the lofty status of international sex god.

I thought about the vanilla motel room I had planned to stay in; the standard fare meal from the yuppie food chain I had noticed on the way out. Instead I was being offered an opportunity to have a meal with the most extraordinary family in America (maybe), and to stay in a room guaranteed to make me want to play with myself (or anyone else that might offer). This was a no-brainer. 

I happily accepted the gracious offer. "Are you sure?" I don't want to impose."

She laughed her melodious laugh, a small hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Sweetie, we have three adults and six children, plus Jake, already. One more will hardly be noticed. I must warn you however, dinner at our house can be a trying experience to the uninitiated. Suffice it say that Emma will be there. Oh, and it's movie night. The whole crew will be in the den watching. I was told that Eddie and Edie have prepared something special, but I don't know what it is."

I asked, "Emma? Emma is one of your daughters, isn't she? Is she a problem?"

The woman's laughter had stopped but the twinkle remained in her beautiful eyes. "Emma is our own little train wreck. She was the daughter that appeared on Larry King last year."

I smiled. "Oh yes, the one who told that Pastor in Swahili that he has a fat ass!"

Donnie or Deirdre, whoever, said, "That's one of her milder pranks. It took the news media a week to pick up on it. No one of importance in this country speaks Swahili it appears. But apparently a number of news outlets received anonymous e-mails explaining the joke. That's how it got out."

I was confused. "They received anonymous e-mails? Do you have any idea who might have sent them?"

She replied, "I never asked, but I do know that Emma doesn't like it if her little tricks go unappreciated."

I laughed. "Why the little devil. I can hardly wait to meet her."

The wife nodded. "I thought you might find her interesting. If you don't mind I'll seat you next to her tonight. She will be playing to you anyway, so we might as well make it easy on her. By the way, are you a meat eater or a vegetarian?"

I said "Why, it doesn't matter. Whatever the family eats will be fine."

"Our family has a divide. Andrew eats meat when he can. And if Jake is here he has an excuse. So when he makes dinner on tennis night, those two always have meat."

I was surprised. "Andrew makes dinner on tennis night?"

She nodded. "Andrew makes dinner every night. He does most of the cooking around here. He's a better cook than Donnie or me."

Wow. I was going to have a dinner prepared by the Progenitor. I said, "If it's okay, I'll join the men and have meat."

She said, "I'm sure that will be fine. Andrew is making rack of lamb tonight."

I tried to back out. "Oh, don't let him to go to all that trouble on my account. I'm sure that whatever the rest of the family is having will be fine."

She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "Don't worry yourself about it. Andrew loves rack of lamb. He's always looking for an excuse to have it. And he claims that it is really quite easy to make. So rack of lamb it is. Why don't you get your things and I'll get you settled in the 'Get Andrew Laid' room? You can freshen up a bit. Dinner is at six-thirty. Because it's movie night, the eKids can stay up a little later than usual."

The men had finished their tennis match and were walking over to the wives and me. I could tell by the look on Andrew's face that he had lost. Jake looked smug and was offering Andrew advice on tennis. 

"Drew, I recommend that when a ball comes in your general direction you lift your racket and attempt to hit it. Who knows, you might get lucky and connect with something."

Andrew looked at Jake with weary resignation. I somehow felt that when the shoe is on the other foot, Andrew has no compunctions about offering Jake advice of his own.

"Lay off, Jake. I'm having a very bad day."

Jake said, "You used to claim that you are a tennis stud, but now we learn that you're just a stud. I'm so proud to know you, Mr. Progenitor."

Andrew shot what appeared to be a guilty look towards his wives. He saw that Donnie was perusing the magazine. I knew it was Donnie because Deirdre was the one I was speaking to.

"Uh, Donnie are you going to monopolize that thing all day?"

Donnie looked up from the picture spread as if noticing Andrew for the first time. "Andrew! There you are. You know we are all so pleased. Our husband does two Playmates at once! I think we should send a copy of this to your mother. I'm sure she will be very proud."

"Mom always said I had talent. I just had to discover what it is. Now let me see what it is I did, will ya?"

Donnie looked smug. She said to me, "I'll bet he doesn't even remember who they are."

Jake nodded his head. "Yeah, he asked me what they looked like. I told him if I ever went to bed with two Playmates, I sure as hell would have remembered their faces. The man's sick."

Andrew said, "The man has two wives that will make you forget every other face you ever saw." 

Donnie hardly even smiled at that. She knew it already. She handed the magazine over and Andrew looked at the centerfold with two pulchritudinous babes displaying their charms. 

He nodded. "Oh, yeah; those two. I kind of remember them. Their names begin with "D", right?"

Deirdre smiled indulgently at her husband. She said to me, "Every woman he's been with has a name starting with the letter "D", so he made a safe guess. He's been impregnating women from the IAM "D" generation."

Andrew said, 'Yes, how bad is that! Worse, I've had over a thousand children, and every one of them has a name starting with the letter "E". Now that should warrant consideration in the Book of World Records, shouldn't it?

Donnie said, "The real record is that with a thousand children, over eight hundred girls, and not one Edith or Ethel or Edna. That was the major condition that Andrew made the women agree to before impregnation."

Andrew tried to defend himself. "I hate those names. Who wants a kid named Ethel?"

I could see that the Progenitor had a child-like view of life. No wonder these marvelous women were with him. He's gorgeous, amazing in bed, and intelligent; yet he's innocent and playful. 

Jake looked at the wives. He said, "Andrew tells me that you don't allow Playboy in the house. What do you plan to do with this one?"

Donnie chuckled. "It's going on our coffee table. Our husband is a celebrity! Is America a great country or what?"

Andrew said, "I haven't owned a copy of Playboy since college. Some guy I knew had a vintage collection of Playboys that must have covered ten years of issues. For some reason he didn't want to take them with him when he graduated, so he sold me the whole batch."

"I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. Did you ever see that painting "American Gothic" by Grant Wood – a dour old farm couple standing in front of their house, the man with a pitch fork, the woman looking like Granny on the Beverly Hillbillies? I bought a print of that painting and hung it on my wall in the dorm. I scoured through ten years of Playboy centerfolds till I found one that was just the right size and just the right pose. Then I cut out the girl's body, cut off her head, and pasted it under the head of the old lady in the painting. I don't know, I just thought the farmer looked happier after that."

Everyone looked at him with a mixture of amazement and pity as he went through this dissertation. 

Jake said, "Drew the thing that worries me is that you would probably do the same damn thing today if you had the chance."

Andrew replied, "Sure. Who wouldn't?"

The wives stood up. One said to her husband, "Come on sweetheart, let's get you out of the sun. I think it's affecting your brain."

The other wife said, "As long as it doesn't affect anything else, who cares?"

Andrew took his wives by the arm and the five us returned to the house. 

Donnie showed me into the "Get Andrew Laid" room. It was pretty much as described in Playboy. I spent some time freshening up before dinner then went out to face the Adkins clan.

Dinner

I don't suppose I ever wondered what Joanne Woodward looked like as a child, but I found out when I was suddenly confronted by these four identical little girls; beautiful, curly, shoulder-length blonde hair; each missing several teeth. They were little versions of their mothers: small, slender and beautiful. 

Then two little dark-haired boys came scampering by. One could see their father in them. They were already as tall as their older sisters. 

With six children, one would expect chaos and confusion, noise and jangled nerves. But these children barely made a sound. Two of the girls never said a word. A third girl made a comment or two but was rather quiet. 

The fourth girl maintained a steady commentary from the time she walked in to the dining room until everyone had found their places. She didn't shut up until her father fixed her with a look. He said nothing, and I didn't even notice her looking at him. But she suddenly quieted down then turned and winked at her father. He tried to look grumpy, but it was obviously an effort: Emma.

One of the wives attempted to introduce me to the children. She said, 'Kids, this is Ms. Helen Gammon. Helen, these are the eGirls and eBoys. Our boys are Ethan and Eric. Those two across the table from you are Eddie and Edie. Eddie is the one on the left."

Andrew butted in. "Uh, Dee Dee, Eddie is the one on the right."

Deirdre responded, "Well it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? Speak to one and you are speaking to both of them. Am I right girls?"

Both of the little girls across the table from me smiled at their mother and nodded their heads in unison. They looked in each other's eyes and started giggling. 

Andrew said to the girls, "Kids if you have something to say, you can say it to the whole group. What do you want to say?"

The one on the right, Edie I guess, said "No"

The one on the left, Eddie I guess, said "Daddy"

Right said "We"

Left said "don't"

Right said "have"

Left said "anything"

Right said "to"

Left said "say."

Right said "Do

Left said "you?"

Andrew reprimanded them. "You know we have a rule. You can't speak single words when you two are talking. It's annoying."

Right said, "Okay Daddy"

Left said "We won't"

Right said "Do it"

Left said "Ever again

Right said "Is that"

Left said "what you"

Right said "want us"

Left said "to do?"

Andrew looked pained. "Very funny. Complete sentences for the remainder of the evening, if you please."

I was amazed. I asked him, "How do they do that?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. You know how identical twins are. I sometimes think those two are telepathic."

Emma jumped in. "What do you think they are the rest of the time, Daddy?"

Andrew gave her what looked to be a warning glare. "Don't start with me, Emmy. At least you and Elle don't speak like circus freaks."

Elle said "We"

Emma said "don't"

Elle said "because"

Emma said "my"

Elle said "sister"

Emma said "is"

Elle said "a"

Emma said "pain"

Elle said "in"

Emma said "my"

Elle said "butt."

Andrew looked resigned. "Just lay off, will ya?"

The wives were serving the food by this time. I was surprised to be served beautifully prepared lamb, medium rare with some sort of glaze. Beside the meat were some vegetable I didn't recognize and some little muffin-like things. I didn't know what they were either. 

Andrew saw my confusion. He said, "Those are field peas along with some hush puppies. This is kind of like Southern Fried rack of lamb, as it were. When in Rome…"

I smiled rather guiltily and said, "I'm sure it will be wonderful." My actual opinion might have been slightly different. Actually it was wonderful. It was all wonderful. 

As I was eating, Emma leaned in my direction and asked "Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Gammon?"

I thought that was rather presumptuous of the little thing, but I answered honestly. "No, I'm between boyfriends right now."

She leaned closer and whispered in my ear "Between girlfriends, too, I'll bet."

I dropped my fork I was so shocked.

Andrew caught my discomfort, if not the exchange. "Emmy, do what you like but don't do it here."

She was the picture of innocence when she said, "Okay, Boss."

Things seemed to calm down around the dinner table as the girls concentrated on eating. Andrew had something to say, so he unceremoniously launched into a lecture. The man is distinctly odd. I can see where the girls get it from.

"I've been thinking about the solitaire game on my computer. I'm convinced that it is forcing me to lose far more often than it used to. I did a statistical analysis of a thousand games. I discovered that if I uncover 2 aces, the likelihood that the next two deuces I uncover will be the other two covered suits is about 73.5%. If I uncover 3 aces, the likelihood that the next deuce I turn up will be the remaining covered suit is 47.3%. Now that just isn't mathematically feasible, given a statistically large enough dataset."

One of the wives said, "Andrew, do you remember when we first met that you mentioned to us that sometimes you are interested in things that other people find deadly dull? Believe me, sweetie, this is one of those times."

Jake said, "You play solitaire on the computer? You sit around and play a thousand games at a time just to analyze the suit distribution? What in the world for?"

Andrew looked defensive. "It relaxes me!"

Jake shook his head. "Buddy, I thought you had to be the most relaxed man in the world!"

Emma turned to one of her brothers. She said, "That's because he gets laid all the time."

The brother grimaced. He replied, 'I know he gets laid all the time."

Andrew said, 'If you went into the Kalahari and asked a bushman who Andrew Adkins was, the bushman would say 'that's the guy that gets laid all the time'. Everyone in the world seems to know about my sex life."

A wife said, "Yes dear, and we are all very proud."

Andrew didn't want to leave the solitaire story alone. He said, "But look, I've uncovered an anomaly here in my card game. It shouldn't be working this way. I'm winning significantly fewer times than I used to. I've been trying to develop a theory about why."

A wife said to me, "Andrew is very good at developing theories. Some of them are actually interesting."

He gave her a look then continued. "What could be causing this phenomenon? Let's consider. A) It could be Microsoft's way of telling someone he plays solitaire too much. Once you reach a certain number of games it might be pre-programmed to lower the percentage of wins. B) It could… I just haven't been able to come up with a 'B)' yet." 

I noticed that Emma next to me was studiously looking at her plate. She seemed to be trying to arrange things so that her remaining field peas were underneath the knife situated along the side of her plate.

Andrew said, "Okay then B) …" His eyes seemed to have a flash of recognition. "B) Emmy! Emmy, first of all, don't think you can hide those peas under your knife. Just eat them and get it over with. Secondly, you little stinker, you've been screwing around with my solitaire game!"

Emma looked at him with a very innocent expression that I was beginning to realize was an admission of guilt. "I wouldn't do that, Daddy. Would I?"

He said, "You just love to torture me, don't you?"

She gave him a little wink and said, "But didn't you have fun doing your analysis? I try to give your life a little focus."

I heard Andrew mumble under his breath, "Focus you."

I was still trying to get my mind around the fact that a seven year old could rig a computer game when the subject matter at the table changed.

One of the wives said, "Jake, have you given any more thought to our proposal?"

Jake replied, 'I don't know, Deirdre. I'm pretty happy as County Prosecutor."

I jumped in. This Jake was pretty hunky and obviously smart as well. "What's this about?"

The Deirdre wife said, "We've asked Jake to consider handling the legal side of our business affairs. We have some pretty large things coming down the pike and we need to cover our bases, legally."

I was surprised. I asked, "What could you be doing that requires a full time lawyer to handle?"

Andrew said, "Eddie and Edie have a couple of developments that we've decided to market. If they are as big as I think they can be, Jake would be managing the legal team. We need someone we can really trust to be in charge. We'll hire other lawyers for specific functions. Our legal needs look to be pretty large."

"Come on Jake. It'll be fun. Aren't you tired of drug dealers and jaywalkers? Wouldn't you like to take on Microsoft and Sony?"

I know I'm just a feature writer, but there was obviously a story here. "What have you developed that will require you to take on Microsoft and Sony?"




Death By Fucking Ch. 17



Emma said, "My sisters, the computer geeks, wrote a new operating system when they were five. Windows sucks. Everybody knows that. UNIX isn't bad, but still has plenty of holes. And Apple isn't even a player. We needed a secure operating system so Eddie and Edie wrote their own. I thought we could maybe sell it, so I told them what to do to make it commercially viable."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this stuff from a seven year old. I asked her "How does it work?"

She looked across the table at her sisters, almost as if she were asking for permission to speak for them. I saw an almost imperceptible nod from one of them so Emma continued.

"First, it is totally secure. I attacked the thing for months without being able to break in."

Andrew felt the need to butt in. "Sorry, Helen, but this part is off the record. Suffice it to say, if Emmy can't hack it, it can't be hacked."

Emma continued. "Anyway, it recognizes hardware automatically. Except for the really weird items, no drivers are required. It will go and find any of the weird drivers and retrieve and install them without operator intervention. We don't need a browser, since the operating system is a browser."

Andrew interjected, "There you go, Jake. Microsoft tried to include Internet Explorer in with Windows and was sued. We'll be sued too for having an internal browser. That's one of the things we have to be prepared for, though ours is totally integral with the operating system. It's seamless. You can't see where the OS ends and the browser begins."

Emma looked at her father as if to say 'shut the hell up' and then went on. 

"Our OS requires a special touch-screen that my sisters developed. Most of the control functions can be performed without keystrokes and without a pointing device, since the touch-screen is the pointing device." 

"Since we had a touch-screen already, we put a little scanner into one corner of the screen. So there isn't any sign-on procedure. Just touch the corner with your finger and the system recognizes you and brings up your desktop automatically. If it doesn't recognize your fingerprint you can't get in."

Jake asked, "But what if the person is handicapped and has no fingers?"

Emma looked at him with a degree of pity. "Please Jake. I think we know what we're doing here. I'm just giving you general information. We've covered the obvious exceptions to the rules already. If I go into all of the 'what ifs' I'll start sounding like Daddy."

Andrew looked offended. "How come I get insulted around here when I'm not even in the conversation?"

Emma said to her father, "Don't worry Daddy, you're our favorite Homo sapien." That seemed to mollify him. 

"Anyway, we built a multi-level degree of difficulty into the user-interface. So the operating system can be set to be used comfortably by kids, teenagers, adults, and computer geeks. All of the options are sensitive to user- competency levels. 

Andrew interrupted. "I think we all get the picture. We need to negotiate with a major computer manufacturer that would be interested in making a dent into Microsoft's monopoly. I was thinking IBM, since they've been pushing a UNIX version for a while. Someone like that. Obviously, we need a good legal mind to spearhead this effort."

"Jake, we're not talking small potatoes, here. If we can make some headway against Microsoft, the dollars might be significant. We're talking billions. And I can guarantee you this OS will blow Windows away."

Jake asked, "Can I get a look at it?"

Finally one of the little computer geeks spoke. "We can give you a computer pre-loaded with a beta-version of the operating system."

The other said, "You can take it to work." 

The first said, "It'll plug into any network and be recognized."

The other said, "You can even make it a server if you want."

The first said, "Without spending a fortune for server software."

Emma said, "This goes a long way towards making a computer like any other appliance in your home or office. You just plug it in and the computer does the rest. Maybe we'll piss off a few computer geeks who like to think they know the secrets to the universe, but the average H. sapien should like this a lot."

Andrew took over. "The remaining step is to convince a manufacturer to build a computer that has only one kind of port. At the same time we need to convince the peripheral manufacturers to make sure their hardware uses the same type of port, a USB port, probably. That way there will be no confusion about what to plug in where. You can plug any device into any port. The hell with backward compatibility."

I was only partially sure of what was being said, but I knew enough to recognize a big story in the making, assuming any of this were true. I said, "You said there were a couple of things you have to market. What's the other one?"

Andrew answered, "You'll see the other later tonight. It's being demo'ed in our den in about a half an hour."

Well seeing the second product will give me a clue as to the value of the first product, I suppose. 

I turned to Emma and said, 'I know what Eddie and Edie do. I understand that Elle is a financier. But what do you plan to do with your life?"

She said, "I'm going to be President of the United States."

I laughed. "Well that's a pretty big goal for a little girl."

Andrew kind of snickered. "Not for that little girl", he said.

Emma smiled at him. "I could be president by the next election if I figure out how to change the age restriction. The Republicans think that they are the only ones who can rig those touch-screen voting machines. They're in for a surprise."

I was shocked. What was this about rigging voting machines? 

One of the wives put an end to the topic. "Emma, you know we never talk politics at dinner."

Emma said, "Or in bed. Did you forget that one?"

Andrew had had enough of Emma for a while. "Well, that about wraps up dinner. What say we have popcorn and juice along with the movie, instead of dessert?"

A Movie

Jake and I moved to the den while Andrew and his wives cleared off the table. The eKids were obviously required to do their part in the cleanup as well. 

Jake and I sat on one of the couches in the den. The den was obviously set up to handle lots of people. This is a big family. Jake and I hadn't exchanged two words since we met. But I was certainly interested in talking to him.

"Are you considering the Adkins' offer to be their legal director?"

He replied, "I don't know. They are offering about four times what I currently make. But I've always wanted to be the 'crusading prosecutor'. I'll admit the reality of it doesn't quite live up to the image I had in my mind. But I like it. I'm doing something important."

I said, "On the other hand, this sounds pretty important too. It will be a big challenge, and the potential seems incredible."

He agreed. 'Yeah, it is a pretty exciting opportunity. Besides which, the next lie that Drew tells will be his first. I'd trust these people with my life."

The man's Southern accent was most attractive. He seems sincere and talented. I suspect that honesty goes both ways. The Adkins' wouldn't be making the offer if they didn't feel the same way about him. I felt I had to know something important about him.

"How does your wife feel about all this?" I hoped I wasn't being obvious.

He smiled. "I have no wife, I'm afraid. Right now the only person I have to worry about is me."

That was nice. I asked him, "Is there going to be a lot of travel involved? It sounds like there will be some negotiating going on."

He said, "Drew tells me we can do most of the negotiating through teleconferencing. Obviously I would have to make some trips to New York and to the Silicon Valley, among other places. Maybe even to Washington State. But no, there isn't that much travel involved; just enough to make it interesting."

I said, "You sound like you might be leaning towards accepting their offer."

He wasn't ready to go that far. 'Well, let's see what it is they have. That will help me decide."

The Adkins family began to drift into the room by then. Andrew came in and opened a door in one wall. I realized I was looking at the largest flat screen TV I had ever seen. It must have cost a fortune. I guess these people have money.

Eventually everyone got settled. Donnie and Deirdre were on one couch, each with a little boy on her lap, each child sucking his thumb. Andrew was in a recliner with a little girl riding each knee. Another little girl climbed up on Jake's lap. It was obvious he had been here before.

I looked around for the remaining little girl, thinking she might want to sit on my lap, but she was nowhere to be found. 

The TV came on and a movie started. I expected, perhaps a Walt Disney children's movie. Instead an old movie from the '60s was playing. It starred Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. It was called "A New Kind of Love". I don't remember having seen it before, and I must admit that it was pretty good. It was a light comedy. 

Joanne Woodward played a dowdy fashion designer sent to Paris to steal the designs of the important designers. Paul Newman was a reporter sent to Paris because he cuckolded his boss. 

One by one the children had climbed down and now were all lying on the floor watching the movie. I still wondered where the last little girl was.

Midway through the film, Joanne Woodward was transformed into this lovely thing through makeup, clothes, and a new wig. It was then that I saw how much Deirdre and Donnie looked like her. I was watching the scene unfold in front of me in the den, as Andrew seemed to have a difficult time concentrating on the movie. His eyes kept drifting toward his wives. 

They pretended to be oblivious, but I could tell they were both acutely aware of his attention. Both women changed position on the couch, and as they did, their skirts seemed to slide up a little. Andrew seemed mesmerized by the amount of leg being shown by each. This man is in serious lust. He might be as sexy as everyone thinks.

Andrew took a quick trip to the kitchen, and suddenly there was popcorn and fruit juice for everyone. The man is very domestic. I'm impressed.

The movie was winding towards its conclusion. There was a bedroom scene in which Joanne Woodward was dressed in a sexy negligee, with the intent of seducing Paul Newman. 

Just as it was getting to the good part, Joanne turned toward the camera. She seemed to be looking directly at Andrew. 

Then she said, "What do you think, Daddy? Am I doing okay?"

Jake dropped his glass of juice on the floor. I felt like we were in the twilight zone. 

Andrew smiled and said, "Not bad, honey. I certainly prefer this movie to the last one you did." He looked at Jake and me. "Last week she starred in 'Emmy Does Dallas'. It was embarrassing. But I'll admit that Emmy is a better actress than Debbie."

The Joanne Woodward figure turned to Jake and me. It said, "This is what we call VV – Virtual Video. All of the main characters have been digitized. We have virtual helmets that you can wear that allow you to become one of the characters. I wanted to be Joanne Woodward, because Daddy has the hots for Joanne Woodward."

Andrew looked cross. "Don't start with me, Emmy."

Joanne Woodward just smiled and blew him a kiss. To add to the surreally of it all, Paul Newman looked at Joanne and said, "What's the matter, did you forget your lines?"

Joanne turned to Paul and said, "Shut Up!" He sat on the bed and gave his trademark insouciant smile. 

Joanne (Emma) turned back to Jake and me. "The script is displayed right in front of your eyes. We can do it in seven languages right now (because that's all we know), but when we are ready to market it, we'll have every major language available."

"We can deviate from the script a little bit, but right now the other actors can't follow a major change unless they are virtual actors too. And we can use the actor's voice, or we can use our own voice." All of a sudden, Emma's tiny voice was coming out of Joanne's mouth and then the figure morphed into the image of Emma. This was truly weird.

"We even have 'help' available. It can be acting help or criticism. Would you like to see it?"

Both Jake and I nodded our heads. I have no idea where Emma was located, but she must have seen us. 

Emma said, "We've programmed several levels of possible help. This is the 'Daddy Lecture' help mode."

Paul Newman slowly morphed into the figure of Andrew Adkins and back into Paul Newman. He began talking. "Emmy, that was very good. But you should learn to put more feeling into the scene. Picture what you want to do before you do it. And open up with your feelings. A) Look into yourself to find the meaning of the words. B)…" the voice droned on and on. Emma's figure morphed back into Joanne Woodward. Joanne put her finger down her throat and made gagging noises.

Andrew said, 'Enough already! We get the joke."

Joanne had a slight smile on her face and said, "We also have a 'Daddy Driver' help mode."

Suddenly Paul Newman stood and began yelling. "What the hell is the matter with you? You fucking idiot!"

All of the children were giggling and even the wives were laughing. 

Andrew said, "I think everyone gets the point. Let's just end this before I become violent and start eliminating actors the hard way."

One of the wives looked at us. "Donnie and I have been very concerned about the direction taken by entertainment in the last couple of decades. It seems to us that children spend most of their time looking at some kind of screen: a computer monitor, a television, a video game. This generation has become watchers instead of doers. I asked Emmy to come up with a way that they could become a part of the action. And this is it."

Both Jake and I were stunned. This was the most amazing technology I had ever seen, and it was developed by seven year olds. I heard Jake mutter, "Maybe I should be considering this offer more seriously."

Emma came skipping into the room, reminding me of how very young she is. She jumped into Andrew's lap and gave him a big hug. He was tickling her and she was laughing. It was all so very domestic for an exchange between a genius and a super-genius. 

Emma said, "Jake, when we go public with the new operating system, I want to have a contest to prove how good it is. We'll set up a system with a known IP address then offer a million dollars to anyone who can hack into it. We'll have every geek on the planet fighting for the chance."

"My geeky sisters set up fire walls a couple of years ago to keep the government out of our database. They left a little something behind the last firewall to reward anyone who was able to break through, though no one did. You see, our database wasn't even on that computer."

"So I did the same thing with this one. In addition to a million dollars, anyone who breaks into our operating system will get this."

Emma clicked on the remote control and suddenly there was displayed a virtually life-sized picture of Donnie and Deirdre, asleep and naked in each other's arms. I gasped. Jake gasped. It was the sexiest picture I've ever seen.

One of the wives let out a little scream. "Andrew! You promised that picture would be hidden."

Andrew tried to sound sorry, but he was looking at the picture at least as diligently as Jake and me. "Dee Dee, you know if Emma wants to get into something, nothing I can do will stop her. Besides, this is high art. It's the best picture I've ever taken."

Deirdre's and Donnie's faces were crimson. But I had to put in my two cents. 

"Really, Andrew is right. This is a beautiful picture. Please consider letting me show it to the editors at Cosmo. I feel sure they would want to use it for the cover. At the very least it would be put at the top of my story. It's an amazing picture."

The girls were looking daggers at Andrew. He looked innocent. Having met Emma, Andrew may well have been innocent. I was wondering if tonight might be one of Andrew's rare off nights. 

Finally one of the wives said, 'Time for bed, children." There were a few grumbles, but I saw that most of them had been rubbing their eyes. The girls and boys took off up the stairs, all except for Emma. 

She looked at Jake and then she looked at me. I felt Jake's eyes on me. I looked into his eyes, and I suddenly wanted him. He is very sexy. I don't know what got into me, but I was hot! I heard Emma giggle, and saw her run for the stairs. She turned and looked at us one more time, and then went up to bed.

I expected there to be recriminations between Andrew and his wives, but when I looked up Andrew had an arm around each one, and they were both snuggled into his neck, hugging him. I guess anger doesn't stand much of a chance around here.

Andrew turned to us, both wives in his arms. He said, "Good night kids. It's definitely past our bedtime. Feel free to stay up as long as you like. The TV has cable if you want to watch. We usually eat breakfast about 7:30 in the morning. You're both welcome to join us."

And then the three of them went up the stairs, still holding each other. My God, I just realized that Andrew just assumed that Jake was going to spend the night. With Me! 

I looked at Jake. He appeared to be uncomfortable with the situation. He said, "Uh, Helen, I sure didn't put Andrew up to anything, and I don't expect anything to develop tonight, so to speak."

I just walked over to him and took his hand. I said, "Oh, the hell with it", and pulled him into the bedroom. 

Jake's Story

I must be the luckiest guy on earth; well, maybe the second luckiest. I'm being taken to bed by the third most beautiful woman in Georgia. I've got to give Donnie and Deirdre their credit. They are seriously hot and deserve to share the #1 and #2 ranking.

But Helen is a definite lottery pick. And tonight she's mine. I've just got to keep hanging around Drew. 

We were in the 'Get Andrew Laid' room. Well I guess tonight it's the "Get Jake Laid" room.

Helen pulled me into the room and closed the door behind us. She turned to me and we instantly embraced. 

I don't know how it happened. I had been sitting there after the movie just looking at her when I was overcome with lust for her. I guess the same thing happened to her. 

We were in major lust. My lips devoured hers as her slender body crushed itself against mine. Our tongues were dueling, barely touching; teasing each other. I was hard as a rock. Damn was I turned on!

She was wearing a dress that buttoned down the front. I like that kind. As I slowly unbuttoned her, the dress fell away from those gorgeous shoulders. 

I love soft round shoulders on a woman. Drew tells me it is because it makes them look like an ass. Well maybe, but he's got other crazy ideas too, so I don't put much stock in this particular notion. 

Helen has 'grade A' shoulders, is all I can say. I kissed down her long lovely neck and then started attacking her shoulders. I'm a shoulder man, I guess.

I kept unbuttoning that dress and finally it fell to the floor. She stood before me in her glory, with just a bra, panties, a garter belt and stockings. She sure as hell looks like she came ready to fuck.

Next to come off was her bra. She has small but beautiful breasts. I know guys that need huge breasts to make them happy. I just don't see it myself. Any breasts will do as far as I'm concerned. Her breasts may be small, but her nipples were ready for the major leagues. They stuck out like erasers, hard and rubbery, just longing for my tongue. 

I picked her up and carried her to the huge four-poster that serves as Drew's private brothel. She's as light as a feather. 

Helen wasn't content to let me take over. As soon as she reached the bed she also reached for my pants. She was in a hurry to see what was in there, I guess. I'm proud to say, I've got nothing to be ashamed of. 




Death By Fucking Ch. 17



I helped her and my pants dropped to the floor along with my boxer shorts. Her eyes widened in appreciation of what I had to give her. Yeah, I'll give it to her all right.

But not quite yet. Hers is the kind of body that you want to devour. If an old country boy like me gets a shot at a body like that, there is nothing to do but worship it. And worship it I did, let me tell you.

I spent a long time making love to those lovely shoulders, but finally worked my way down to those beautiful tits. I love responsive nipples on a woman. And hers are way up there on my list. I sucked a nipple in to my mouth and I think she almost climaxed right there. 

She had started moaning by the time I reached her tits. Her body was pressing up into mine, trying to find contact points. I let my hand wander down to the junction between her legs. 

Let me tell you, I've never seen a shaved pussy before. When I pulled her panties down, I was confronted by one beautiful hairless cunt. 

I read somewhere that women shave their pussies because it feels good when someone goes down on them. Well damn, I can take a hint. I've always called it muff-divin' myself, but there wasn't no muff to dive into, if you catch my drift. She was bald as a baby's butt.

I slipped off her stockings then licked her thigh from her knee all the way up. I switched legs and did the same thing. She was watching me, and I could see by the way her ass was moving around the bed that she was hot for me.

I played with her a little bit, you know; just letting her know that I was there without actually licking anything important. But finally I took pity on her. Well actually I really wanted to taste her cunt. So I let my tongue run right up the center of her pussy lips. 

She groaned out loud as my tongue massaged her lips. I worked my way up to her clit, which was standing out, just waiting for attention. Yeah, I'll give that little button all the attention it can handle. 

But first my tongue plunged into her pussy. She screamed and her legs tightened around my ears. I realized she had gone over the edge the first time something went into her cunt. That's the kind of woman I'm talkin' about.

Well, hell, I was just starting to warm her up some. She was wet as the blazes by the time she started coming down. So I stuck a finger right in there and let her start to take off again.

Sucking her clit between my lips, I started to ride her good with both my finger and my tongue. Damn, the woman's screams like to raise the dead. She was cumming like a fire engine, panting and swearing. The woman was hot, and I hadn't even dicked her yet. 

It was time to solve that problem. My dick felt like iron, and I wanted to pump a little iron. 

I moved up to hold her. We kissed and cuddled a little bit. I wanted to give her some recovery time before I put her over the top again. I'm a gentleman from Georgia.

My plan was to slide it on in there and let her have it. But all of a sudden this New York vixen pushed me onto my back. She sat up and took hold of my dick. Then her mouth slid over the head and I felt just about the best feeling I've ever had. Man the woman was a first class cocksucker! I saw her head popping up and down, my dick going deep into her throat. 

But that wasn't what I wanted right now. I wanted to fuck her. Just as I was about to tell her so, she stopped. 

She looked me in the eye and said, "Hope you don't mind, but I'll finish you off that way later. Right now, I need this beautiful thing inside me."

Now that's what I'm talkin' about. She kept hold of my dick and climbed right on top. She rubbed the head of my dick across her crack, the same damn place my mouth had been ten minutes ago.

She looked me straight in the eye and then plunged down on my dick. Hot damn, that was one tight cunt! She was moaning and humping on my dick like a crazed cowgirl.

Her eyes were closed as she slammed herself on to me. When she reached bottom she ground herself against me. Damn the woman can fuck as well as she can suck!

Then she started getting vocal. "Oh yeah. Oh GOD! Yes. Yesss! Fuck me, big boy. Make me cum. GOD! Fuck me. Fuck ME. FUCK MEEE!!"

She was taking me with her with her dirty talkin'. I could feel myself growing bigger, swelling up right inside that warm soft cunt of hers. 

Her eyes were still closed. We were both almost there. And then I went over the top and started pumping cum into that pussy for all I'm worth. 

That put her over too. She started to scream her climax. "FUCKKK! FUCK MEEE! YESSS! OH GOD! FUCK ME ANDREW!!"

Andrew?! Well shit! 



Death By Fucking Ch. 18



Chapter 18: Fantasies

Andrew’s Story

I was in the middle of my favorite part of the day. I had my tongue buried deeply in Dee Dee’s pussy, tasting that sweet nectar. She was really in to it now, her passion rising and approaching a peak. I was trying to decide how long I should drag it out. I can keep her up as long as I want, sometimes. She can become crazed: needing, wanting, but never having. It’s damn sexy.

To see my beautiful serene wife lose all semblance of control is as good as it gets. Of course, maybe because I do this to her almost every day is why she’s so damn serene the rest of the time. I hadn’t thought of that. Anyway it’s my favorite part of the day. I love to eat her pussy.

This is a time when I absolutely do not like to be interrupted. Cunnilingus interruptus really pisses me off. But sure as the phone ringing when you’re in the shower, I heard that little voice in my head. 

I’m not like most other guys. When they hear that little voice in their heads, it’s usually their conscience calling. Me, I hear Emmy. And she has no discernable conscience of which I’m aware. 

“Daddy”, I heard.  “Are you busy?”

To my credit, my tongue never broke stride. (Is that a mixed metaphor?) But I answered her anyway. “You know I’m busy. This better be important!”

“Daddy, Jake’s leaving. You’ve gotta stop him!”

“How much time do I have?” Well darn, I wanted to finish Deirdre off. What am I, some kind of a sadist?

“He’s getting dressed now, Daddy. He’ll be gone in five minutes.”

My only option was to attack Dee Dee’s clit. I sucked that little button between my lips and licked it like a lollipop. I heard a blood-curdling shriek and realized I had caught Deirdre completely off guard. She never expected a full frontal assault since I usually bring her to a slow boil before I begin any serious work. 

Her orgasm was unexpected and incredibly intense. Her thighs clamped my head in a vise grip as I kept her at a peak. Her pussy was grinding on my mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head. Finally she collapsed in a heap. 

I heard her saying “Oh my God! Oh my God!” 

Do I have a great life or what?

I climbed up and held her in my arms for a moment, trying to savor the feel of my sweet Deirdre. I love her. I kissed her passionately. I gave a little peck on each cheek and then on each closed eyelid. But then I had to go. 

I reached out to Emmy. “Are you involved in this?” As if I didn’t know.

I heard her reply. “Kinda, Daddy. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

I slipped on some tennis shorts and a tee shirt and hurried down the stairs. Emmy was coming out of the eGirls’ room. 

Jake was in the living room, headed for the door. I called out to him. “Hey Jake, hold up for a minute.”

He didn’t look too happy, but he paused and turned towards me. Emmy came running down the stairs. She was crying. Dang, I don’t remember the last time I saw Emmy cry. Even Jake looked concerned.

Emma said, “I’m sorry Jake. It’s my fault! I’m the one. Be mad at me.”

Jake didn’t have a clue what Emma was talking about. After all, no one knew about the ‘special talents’ that the eKids come by naturally. We’ve been keeping it under wraps, just covering our ass, so to speak.

But Emma had decided that this was important enough to let the cat out of the bag. I was a bit miffed. I am her father after all. Like maybe she could have consulted me first? Oh well, the next time she consults me first will be the first time.

Jake said, “It’s not your fault Emma. Don’t worry about it, honey.” 

Emma said, “Yes it is!! It Is my fault. I’m sorry.” She was crying and looked pitiful. I saw her doing a pretty good Joanne Woodward tonight, so I wasn’t sure if she was acting or if this was the real thing.

I thought I better step in here. “Jake, sit down on the sofa and let’s talk. There’re some things you should know.”

We sat down, Jake and Emma on the couch, me on one of those chairs that women seem to accumulate but men can hardly get comfortable in. I wasn’t sure how to do this.

“Jake, I’ve got some things to tell you that are top secret. If you don’t want to know them, or are afraid you can’t keep your mouth shut, then head on out of here and we’ll forget about it.”

Jake was already annoyed. I didn’t know why, but he looked pretty upset. So he said, “Drew, you know I can keep my mouth shut. What the hell is this about? Oh, sorry Emma.”

Emma gave a tentative smile behind her tears. “You can swear around me as much as you damn well please, Jake. I live with Daddy, remember?”

Why is it that whenever people around here get into it, I end up being used as a bad example? I’m supposed to be the authority figure in this house, aren’t I?

I said, “Jake the kids have some abilities that we’ve never discussed with anyone. I’m not talking about intelligence. We’ve never hidden how intelligent they are. But they’ve got other abilities, ones that are cutting edge, even a little dangerous.”

Jake had no idea what I was talking about. So Emma jumped in. “Jake, I can read minds. I’m telepathic.”

Jake actually smiled at that one. “Go on. You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Emma said, “No. If I try hard I can tell what you are thinking. You’ve noticed that Edie and Eddie don’t have much to say? That’s because they prefer to talk mind to mind. It’s easier and faster.”

Jake asked, “Can normal people hear you?” It was an obvious question. He still looked incredulous, but he’s been around the eKids long enough to know that they can do just about anything. Why not this too?

Emma replied, “They can hear us sometimes if we project right to them. Daddy can always hear us if we talk to him.”

Jake asked me, “Is that true, Drew?”

“Yeah, Jake. I’ve been able to communicate with them since before they were born. All of the eKids have this ability.”

I saw Jake’s eyes open wide. He turned to Emma. “You did WHAT?”

I turned to Emma too. “What exactly did you do, Emmy? Just tell me about tonight. Leave the rest of your wicked life out of it. I don’t have time for true confessions.”

Jake said to me, “Didn’t you hear her? Did you hear what she did?”

Emmy looked like she was going to cry again. She said, “No I didn’t Jake. I couldn’t make you do something like that. You both already wanted to.”

I was confused. I was missing part of this conversation. “Please, for the duration of this discussion, would you two kindly verbalize? I’m missing half of what’s being said here.”

Jake said, “You mean we’ve been doing it? Talking telepathically? I’ll be a son of a bitch! I didn’t even notice.”

I told Emma, “You better tell Jake exactly what happened. And say it! You dragged me away from Dee Dee. The least you can do is include me in.”

Jake had a half smile on his face. “You were with Dee Dee?”

I was getting exasperated. “Yes! I was with Dee Dee. And I left her only half-done, which really pisses me off. She’s my wife! Occasionally I’m with her, if Emma will ever leave me alone! And we’re not talking about me and Dee Dee; we’re talking about you and Helen. Aren’t we?”

Emma said to Jake, “You and Helen wanted to be together. It was obvious to everyone. Even Daddy must have noticed. But Homo sapiens are always so afraid. Usually they’re afraid of looking foolish. They don’t do the very things they want to do most, just because they are afraid of being embarrassed. I saw what Helen and you wanted, so I ‘tweaked’ you just a bit so you wouldn’t be embarrassed by it. That’s all. I couldn’t make you like each other. You two did that by yourselves.”

Jake said, “You can do that? Unbelievable! Well, that’s not the problem. If you did it, I’m kind of grateful you did. But that’s not the problem.”

Emma started to cry again. “I’m sorry, Jake. It was a joke. I just ‘goosed’ Helen’s mind a little bit. I wasn’t listening, I promise. But I thought it would be funny if she used Daddy’s name. I know I was wrong. When Daddy got around to Momma Donnie, I was going to let her scream ‘Jake’. I thought it would make for a fun morning tomorrow. I’m sorry!”

Both Jake and I looked at Emma with amazement. My mouth was wide open, and I couldn’t form the words. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. 

Actually when he got over the shock, Jake seemed to be in a much better mood. “Listen, Emma. Don’t be pullin’ tricks like that on grown-ups. It makes us crazy. Stick to stunts you understand, okay?”

Emma looked properly chastened. “Yes, Jake. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Jake said, “Andrew, you’re going to finish off Deirdre and then take on Donnie? Are you really going to do that? You don’t need any help there, do you?” My look was all the answer he needed.

Jake turned and walked back into the ‘Get Andrew Laid’ room. I guess things were okay with him.

But I wasn’t through with Emma. When the door had closed (we heard a happy squeal come from inside the room), I turned to her. “Okay, what was that about? I figured you got those two together. But it’s not like you to pull such a dirty trick. Did you really do it?”

All her tears were dry, it seems. “Daddy, you know you’re every woman’s dream! If I were ten years older, I’d be going after you myself! Don’t blame Helen.”

I guess I was impressed. Maybe Emma does have a conscience. “So you didn’t make her say it. It was nice of you to pull Helen’s ass out of the fire. That’s a mistake I’ll bet she doesn’t make again.”

Emma turned to go up the stairs. I still wasn’t finished with her.

“Wait a minute, little girl. You’re not off the hook that easily. First, you know you’re not supposed to be eavesdropping when two adults are in bed! And second, what’s this ‘Donnie’ thing you talked about?”

Emma looked at me with those innocent eyes. There may be nothing more dangerous in the world than Emmy’s innocent eyes. “First, Daddy, I wasn’t eavesdropping. Helen screamed your name. I’m not deaf, you know. You would have heard it too if Momma Dee Dee didn’t have her legs wrapped around your ears. And do you really want to know the second thing Daddy?”

It’s exasperating to have an eight-year old who knows everything. I said, “Of course I really want to know. What good is it to have a daughter who reads minds if I can’t take advantage of it now and then?”

“Momma Donnie has a kind of a thing for Jake. She’s not in love with him or anything. She just thinks he looks sexy playing tennis. One of her favorite things is to watch you two play. It makes her horny.”

Well that was information I had to digest. Watching us play tennis makes Donnie horny. Actually pretty much everything makes Donnie horny. She kind of likes Jake, huh? I wonder how I feel about that.

In the meantime, Dee Dee could probably use a little more attention. For that matter so could I.

Donnie’s Story

We had a very nice family breakfast. Andrew threw together lovely mushroom omelets with grits. He also made scones which we had with lemon curd. He added some slender fresh asparagus on the side. My husband is an excellent unhurried cook. If I were cooking for eleven I would be a mess. 

Jake and Helen couldn’t take their eyes off of one another. It was very romantic. They kept smiling and making whispered comments. The rest of us pretended not to notice. I have to admit, I’ll be questioning Emmy in a little while to find out what they were saying. Emmy was certainly eavesdropping. She hears all. She knows all. Unfortunately, often she tells all.

Before anyone had excused himself, Andrew made a general announcement. “We’re going to have a little family meeting in fifteen minutes. I’d like all of us to meet in the den. Jake and Helen, you are welcome to sit in, but it’s just some family business we have to attend to. Strictly off the record.”

They decided to take a walk while we had our meeting. If I were them I would want it to be just the two of us. I remember when Andrew and we girls first met. We didn’t want anyone to intrude. We wanted him all to ourselves.

The family congregated in the den. Andrew was master of ceremonies, since he had called the meeting. We have an odd family. To the world, Andrew is the public face of our family, the sexiest man on earth. But in the family itself, I get the distinct impression that Andrew considers himself to be the low man on the totem pool. He defers to everyone, even the children.

I think he pictures his position as role model and instructor of the kids, rather than authority figure. For the most part they make their own decisions, except for those areas where there are clearly defined parent-child roles. Those remain firmly intact.

I’ve never heard him raise his voice to the children and mean it. He never gives them direct orders. He makes suggestions. Fortunately they respect his suggestions and almost always comply with his requests. But if they didn’t, he would just shrug his shoulders and go on with his life. He does not consider himself an omniscient all-powerful father figure even a little bit.

It’s easy to understand why Dee Dee and I love him with all our hearts. He’s almost too perfect to be true. 

We all drifted into the den. I saw Ethan talking to Andrew. Ethan ran out of the den and returned a minute later with some printout or something. By this time all the kids were seated on the floor and Deirdre and I were on the couch. Andrew was standing, holding the printout that Ethan had brought.

He said, “Ethan, this is amazing work. I love it.” Then he said to the group, “Ethan has designed housing for New Man U. He wondered if we would be willing to look at it. I’ll pass it around to everyone. This is a design for a standard housing unit. If everyone likes it, we’ll pass it on to the architect, have him peruse it. Then we’ll incorporate Ethan’s housing into the project if everyone agrees.”

He passed the printout around. When it got to me I was amazed at the intricacy of the drawing. It looked like professional work, not even counting the unusual building that was represented. It looked like the majority of the building was underground. It was designed to look like a small hill in the landscape.

Andrew started on one of his tirades. He has a few hot buttons that are sure to set him off every time.

“First, the design is amazing. I personally think we should use it as a model for all our on-campus housing. But second,” and he turned to Ethan, “how did you produce such professional work?”

Ethan said, “I was using an architectural design program that Emmy got for me.”

Andrew said, “I don’t remember paying for any program like that. How much does it cost?”

Emmy jumped in. “Oh, it’s still in its free trial period. It’s a twenty thousand dollar program.”

Andrew asked, “And how long does the free trial last?”

Emmy said, “Forever.”

I could see Andrew wasn’t pleased. “Emma! This isn’t a game program you downloaded. It’s valuable software. If anyone found out we had this program without a license we could be sued.”

Emma replied reasonably, “But Daddy, no one can find out. We’re using the new operating system. It’s safe.”

Andrew said, ‘That isn’t the point, Emmy. If we were subpoenaed the cops could look at the computer and might find that software.” I could see his mind working. Andrew always is able to add two plus two. “Wait a minute! How many other permanent ‘trial’ versions of software do we have?”

Emma looked smug, not unusual for her. “We have one of everything.”

Andrew just shook his head. “Anything that we use in a production mode, we’re gong to pay for.” He turned to me. “Donnie, could you set up a bank account for the kids to use? Put plenty of cash in it.” He turned back to the kids. “Buy what you need, but if it’s something like a twenty thousand dollar program, please mention it to your mothers or me, okay?”

I wondered how many fathers talked that way to their eight year-olds. He was giving them carte blanche. He knew that if they needed something, they would just go out and get it. But he wanted them to pay for it.

He decided to change the subject. “Kids, I was thinking about the new operating system. If we are going to put it out there, I would like to include some kind of office suite. You know, a spreadsheet, a word processor, maybe a database. I would like it to have built in web-design capabilities as well. Maybe this is a lot to ask, but I was wondering if in your spare time you could throw something like this together.”

Eddie spoke up, an unusual thing for her. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll design them and help Eric and Ethan with the programming.”

Edie added, “How about some kind of developer’s system too? Everyone knows that Visual Studio.Net sucks big time.”

Andrew nodded. “Okay. But I want it all to be open-source. And we’ll be giving it away. None of this licensing crap that all the software companies are shoving down people’s throats. They buy the operating system, the office suite and the developer’s package comes with it, no additional charge. Oh, and make it compatible with Microsoft’s file structure, okay? No reason to have people lose their data if they buy our OS.”

I was getting impatient with this technical talk. Andrew could handle this just as easily without including Dee Dee or me. I said, “Is that what the meeting is about, Andrew? If it is, I’ve got things to do.”

Andrew smiled. “Hold on, honey. I’m about done with the kids. Then I have some things we need to go over, if that’s okay.” He turned to the kids. “That’s about it. Take a hike. Your mothers and I need to talk.”

All of the kids got up to leave. Emma as usual looked like she already knew what we were going to talk about. She gave me a wink and a grin, then left. That little girl is peculiar.

Once we were alone, Andrew started talking. He looked uncomfortable. Pretty soon I found out why.

“Uh, last night I had an interesting discussion with Emmy. It got me to thinking. I know that’s not always a good thing. But I want to revisit a discussion we had a long time ago. I’m sure you will remember it.”

Deirdre said, “What discussion? Are we supposed to guess?”

Andrew was having a difficult time coming to the point, not unusual for him. “It’s just that, uh, we talked way back in the beginning of time about something, and you two were upset with me for even bringing it up. That’s why I’m a little, uh, reluctant to bring it up again.”

I said, “If you are so reluctant then, why bother? If we didn’t want to hear it then what makes you think we want to hear it now?”

Dee Dee said, “I remember! Are you talking about that ridiculous argument we had about you ‘allowing’ us to take lovers if we wanted?”

My mouth must have fallen open. I saw that Andrew noticed. He said, “Well, since you brought it up, yes, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Dee Dee wasn’t angry. She was just baffled. “Why in the world would you mention that now? As I recall, you were talking about the times we were going to be apart. We haven’t been apart since before we got married. This makes no sense whatsoever.”

Andrew turned to me. “Does it make any sense to you, Donnie?”

I can put two and two together just as well as Andrew can. “What has Emma been telling you, Andrew?”

“She kind of hinted that you might be interested in scratching an itch, so to speak.”

I don’t know when I’ve been so embarrassed. I must have turned all kinds of shades of red. At the same time I felt a surge of electricity in my loins and suddenly I was becoming very, very wet. Still, just because I might have entertained some silly little fantasy that is all it ever would be: a silly little fantasy.

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t have any itches that need scratching, Andrew. You scratch all my itches more than satisfactorily.”

Of course, Dee Dee just needed a small hint to reach the obvious conclusion. “You have the hots for Jake! My God, Donnie, you are such a slut!”




Death By Fucking Ch. 18



Andrew actually laughed. He wasn’t taking this the way I would have expected him to. I thought he would be hurt, angry, betrayed. I love him. I never want him to feel that way. I never planned to do anything about this ‘Jake’ fantasy of mine. Sometimes it’s enough just to have fantasies.

Andrew said to me, “Sweetie, it’s all right. I’m sure you never intended to do anything more than look. But I’m going to give you that same speech all over again. If you want to, then I’m giving you permission; not that you need permission from me. You’ll do whatever you damn well please anyway. All the women in this house do whatever they please. Sometimes they tell me about it after the fact.”

I felt hot tears welling within me. “Andrew, I swear, I would never…”

He took me in his arms and comforted me. “Donnie, don’t be upset. I’m not upset. I don’t own you. I want you to be happy. If having a little fling with Jake would make you happy, I trust you to keep it in perspective. I’m not trying to force you into anything; far from it. I just want you to do the things that bring you the most happiness.”

I said not unreasonably, “I’m already happy. I don’t need anyone else to make me happy, only you.”

Andrew continued to hold me. He said, “Whatever you want is okay with me, Baby. But I don’t want you wishing for something that you think you can’t have because of me. Let’s be honest. Jake thinks you and Dee Dee are the hottest chicks in the state of Georgia. He practically drools whenever he sees you.”

I said, “But what about Helen?” Uh, oh; had I just conceded that I wanted to go through with it? 

Andrew replied, “Helen may be gone tomorrow. Who knows what might come from that. She made a little mistake last night when she called out the wrong name during a crucial moment, if you know what I mean.”

Deirdre laughed. She was thoroughly enjoying this whole conversation. “Oh, no! Don’t tell me she called out your name while she climaxed.”

Andrew looked smug. “I guess we all have our little fantasies. If Donnie had called out Jake’s name last night, the circle would have been complete.”

I hit him on the shoulder. “You are being an absolute beast about this, Andrew.”

He kissed my cheek. I love him so. He said, “Sweetheart that would have upset me. How do you think that Jake felt? He was ready to leave but Emmy and I calmed him down and sent him back in for round two.”

Deirdre said, “Emmy calmed him down? How did she get into the picture? Wait! Don’t tell me. She was listening in. She’s only eight years old. She should not be listening to people having sex.”

Andrew came to her defense. “Emma said that she heard Helen scream my name. She said she wasn’t listening, but that Helen was so loud that we all should have heard. She also took the blame for it. That means we had to tell Jake about the telepathy thing she has going. We didn’t mention telempathy.”

Dee Dee asked, “Why on earth did Emma take the blame for Helen?”

Andrew answered, “Because inside that evil exterior beats the heart of a sweet loving little girl, that’s why. She’s pure. They are all pure. That’s why I never object to their little ‘projects’, even Emmy’s. She wouldn’t hurt anyone, ever.”

Deirdre said, “If Helen and Jake turn in to an item, perhaps we could help with that. We might need a publicist for the kids’ new projects; and for New Man University. What do we know about such things? Helen might be ideal.”

Andrew said, “Well we could probably just hire an advertising agency in Atlanta. But I have no objection to ‘keeping it in the family’ so to speak. After all, it’s only money. If we need more, Elle can make more.”

I must admit to being rather ambivalent to this line of thought. I had been seriously considering taking Andrew up on his offer. But if Helen were to be here, that of course was out of the question. But I have no claims on Jake. My place is beside Andrew and always will be. If Jake can be happy with Helen, I can only be pleased for him, kind of.

Dee Dee noticed my ambivalence. “Sorry, Donnie; maybe I should have kept my ideas to myself.”

I said to her, “What about you? Don’t you have someone who strikes your fancy?”

Andrew looked interested in that. But Deirdre just shook her head. “I don’t. Sure I think Jake is a sexy man, but I’ve just never had the urge, if you know what I mean. Every day of the week is quite enough sex for me. But if Andrew starts tapering off…”

Helen’s Story

Jake has to be the most understanding man I’ve ever met. I don’t know what possessed me to scream Andrew’s name just as I came last night. Well, probably it was because I’d been fantasizing about Andrew from the moment I met him. But Jake is as good a lover as I’ve ever had. I thought I had spoiled everything.

But now things are wonderful. When he came back into the bedroom I was so happy I had to give him a blow job. It was the least I could do; he deserved it. I tore off his clothes, pushed him back on the bed, crawled between his knees and went down on him.

Most of the oral sex I’ve been giving in the last few years has been with women. But I really wanted to suck Jake’s beautiful cock. Yes, I was doing penance for my verbal blunder. But I enjoyed it almost as much as he did. I’m not a swallower. But with Jake I swallowed. I’m very proud of myself.

When we woke up in the morning, we made love one more time. It was lovely and gentle. That surprised me after the intensity of our coupling last night. I’m starting to have some feelings for the man. I wonder how he feels about me. Am I just some piece of ass that Andrew set him up with? Or were the Adkins’ acting as matchmakers? I’m not sure which one I want it to be.

We had a breakfast of omelets, fresh asparagus and grits of all things, along with some perfectly lovely scones. Grits and scones; what a dichotomy this family represents. Then Jake and I went for a walk while the family had some sort of meeting. I still needed to finish my interview with the Adkins wives. 

The women were in the living room when we returned from our walk. Andrew was in the kitchen apparently seeing to the dishes. The sexiest man in the world doesn’t appear to mind doing the simplest of chores; and he’s a wonderful cook. If he’s as good in bed as everyone says, I’d like to marry him myself and let him by my househusband.

Deirdre and Donnie and I were settled in the living room. I asked them the questions that I needed to complete my story, then again brought up the subject of the picture.

I said, “Ladies, have you given any more thought to allowing us to use that fabulous picture of you two? I promise it will cause a sensation.”

Deirdre (they had graciously identified themselves when we sat down so I could tell them apart) said, “I’m not sure that I want to cause a sensation. This is a quiet little town we live in. We have meetings to attend with other middle aged matrons like ourselves. I’m not sure how our friends would take this.”

Donnie actually took up the argument on my behalf. “Oh come on, Dee Dee! When have you ever cared what people think of you? I swear you are becoming stodgy in your old age.”

Deirdre replied, “And you are turning into a slut!”

Donnie’s cheeks flamed. I wonder what that was about. But she stuck to her guns. “You and I are practically the same person. I know perfectly well that this picture appeals to your ego. It certainly appeals to mine. And Andrew loves it. Every time he looks at it he practically rapes us! Uh, Helen, that’s information that maybe shouldn’t get in to the story. Andrew is easily aroused, as you might have guessed.”

I jumped in. “That picture would arouse any red-blooded man and a hell of a lot of women. But it isn’t obscene. It’s very sensual but maintains a certain dignity. Otherwise I would never suggest using it. I assure you, it would go a long way to explaining why you are with the Progenitor; and why he is interested in only you. He will probably receive fewer of those proposals you told me about. On the other hand, you might receive a number of proposals yourselves. That’s not altogether a bad thing, is it? How would Andrew feel about having to share some of the fame with his beautiful wives?”

Deirdre said, “Are you kidding? He’d love it. We would never live it down. We’ve been teasing him unmercifully since this whole ‘sex god’ thing began. But Andrew is justifiably the most secure man in the world. He won’t feel threatened by any notoriety that Donnie or I achieve. That’s not the point. I’m just not sure I’m prepared to appear naked in front of the world.”

Donnie explained. “Until we met Andrew, we were a couple of very conservative businesswomen. We had no sex life. We were practically asexual. Then Andrew appeared and suddenly all we thought about was sex. It was a strange transformation for two old ladies like us. Something about us turns Andrew into a, well, into a sex fiend. He finds us irresistible. Truthfully, we feel the same way about him. We don’t need much to motivate us into acting sexually. But I’ll bet this will make Andrew even hornier than usual. Had you thought of that, Deirdre?”

Deirdre laughed. “Can we deal with Andrew being hornier than usual, Donnie? How hornier can he get? There are only twenty-four hours in a day.”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to say it. “I’d be more than willing to accept any overflow that you two can’t handle.”

Both of their mouths opened in surprise or shock, I wasn’t sure which. Then they both started laughing. They leaned in and put their arms around each other for support and held each other as they laughed till tears were streaming down their cheeks.

When they had calmed down Donnie said, “Sorry Helen; he is a hunk, isn’t he? Any woman would die to be with him. He’s had over a thousand women in the last few years, and almost every one has wanted a second round with him. It isn’t just that he’s, well, he’s rather large, if you know what I mean. He is just so attentive. Even with these IAM women he devotes himself to giving pleasure. He is the world’s greatest lover, Helen. And he proves it to us every day of our lives.”

Dee Dee said, “Donnie isn’t gloating, Helen, even though it may sound that way. But it is hard not to be a little smug about our Andrew. He is at once both the most promiscuous and the most devoted husband in the world. You’ve seen him. You’ve seen how he is. He loves us passionately, without reservation. Sometimes we still don’t understand why. He is still a young man. We are middle aged. And yet his devotion to us never wavers. So if you are attracted to him, how could we be upset? We might even be willing to share.”

This time it was my turn to be shocked. I could see that Donnie was shocked too. I said, “What do you mean by that?”

Donnie paraphrased, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Dee Dee smiled that radiant, eye-lighting smile of hers. The woman is just delighted with life, it seems to me. “Donnie, you know perfectly well what we were talking about with Andrew just an hour ago. And now an elegant solution to your problem drops right in to our laps, if you know what I mean.”

I turned to Donnie. “What problem do you have?”

Donnie denied everything. “I have no problems that need any solution Helen.”

But Deirdre wouldn’t let it alone. “Donnie kind of fancies Jake. That was information that came to Andrew’s and my attention this morning. Andrew was most magnanimous about it. He told her to do whatever she pleases. Helen, I’m not kidding.”

“Andrew wants us to be happy. If we are happy, he’s happy. He suspects that being with Jake a little will make Donnie happy. But Donnie pointed out the fact that you and Jake might well be together. She has no desire to interfere with that. But now you come forward, however inadvertently, and show us the solution to both of your little fantasies.”

I said, “Let me get this straight. Are you suggesting that Donnie and I trade off?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

Deirdre said, “Only if you both agree of course. I’m an uninterested third party here. Of course, Jake and Andrew would have to agree as well. From what Andrew says Jake would have been more than willing before he met you. Andrew is a different problem. But he never denies us anything. If Donnie wants something, he’ll do what he can to make it so. I promise, Helen, you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

I answered honestly. “I’m unsure where Jake and I are going, or if we are going anywhere. I live in New York City. He lives in Nowheresville, Georgia. No offense intended. How could we have a relationship? But if I’m only going to be here for a couple of days, I want spend the time with Jake.”

Deirdre said, “Actually we had intended to talk to you about that. We have three major enterprises in the works right now. We have the two developments of the eGirls – the operating system and Virtual Video; and we have New Man University going up. One thing we don’t have is a publicist. We thought you might consider taking the job. I don’t know how much you are making at Cosmo, but we would be willing to double it.”

How could these people just throw their money around like this? I said, “I don’t know what to say! Are you serious?”

Donnie answered, “Of course we’re serious. I mean about the job offer. That other thing that Dee Dee brought up, well you and I can talk it over later if you are interested. But that has nothing to do with the job offer. We want to deal with people we know and like.”

“We have all the money we need at present. If we need more we’ll just have Elle make some more. Actually, she is always making more than we can use. That little girl is a financial dynamo.”

“This may seem like the end of the earth to you, but we are only a few hours from Atlanta, only an hour from Savannah. There are restaurants, entertainment, beaches, all within an easy drive. This is really a quite pleasant place to live.”

Deirdre jumped in. “Think about it, Helen. Seriously, we aren’t trying to influence the tenor of your article about us. Write whatever you please. But Jake is our friend. We like you. It seems logical to offer to bring you on board. You don’t have to decide now, of course. Give it some thought. We’ll be here, and won’t offer the job to anyone else until you decide.”

It’s impossible for me to make a logical decision when I’m horny. I have to give Jake a call to find out if he can take the afternoon off.

Deirdre’s Story

After all this sexual talk with Donnie and Helen, I must admit to being more than a little needy. There was a time when I went for years without sex. But since Andrew introduced me to the sexual dimension of my life, I seem to need it with alarming regularity. Thank goodness Andrew is eager to give it to me with equally alarming regularity. 

I walked in to the kitchen where Andrew was still cleaning up. The place looked immaculate so I have no idea what else he hoped to accomplish. 

“Andrew, what in the world are you doing out here? We could eat off of the floor already. Why are you still cleaning?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to keep out of the way. I really don’t have much to do. You girls were with Helen. The kids are doing their collective things. I don’t have any current programming jobs going on. What, can’t I hang out in the kitchen? You sound like my mother.”

Andrew likes it when I’m up front about my sexual needs. In the beginning I was very shy about such things. But I’ve learned to cater to his little fantasies.

“But would your mother want to get laid?” 

Andrew laughed. “I certainly hope not. She’s one woman who is never going to convince me to do it.”

I saw an opening and took it. “Oh? How about Helen, then?”

I saw the apprehension in his face. “What about Helen?”

I said, “Could she ever convince you to do it?”

He said, “Dee Dee, please don’t be coy. If you have something to say, just say it. You love to see me swinging in the wind, don’t you? It’s an annoying habit you seem to have picked up from Donnie.”

I put my arms around him and gave him a deep, sensual soul-kiss. He can’t help himself when I do that. He’s just putty in my hands. I have this power over the sexiest man on earth. I suppose that makes me pretty sexy too.

I whispered, “Sweetheart, Donnie and Helen share similar fantasies. But while Donnie has dreamed of being with Jake, Helen dreams of being with you.”

I nuzzled his neck and hugged him while he contemplated this unexpected development. I could feel him growing down below. I knew that the reason wasn’t the thought of Helen, but the reality of what I was doing to him. But isn’t everyone amenable to reinforcement therapy? Andrew long ago told me about what he calls ‘dick thinking’. When I do these things to him his penis takes over. He’ll do anything I ask of him; anything. He’ll do Helen if Donnie asks the right way.

I said, “Sweetie, let’s talk about this later. There isn’t any rush. I wanted you to know what was being said between those two girls. They are in negotiation and you are what’s being negotiated. Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to think about Helen. But right now I want you to think of only me.”

I took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs to our bedroom. As we went through the hall I noticed Helen and Donnie still talking in the living room. I wore a smug smile as I waved at Helen. Her mouth was open. I think she was drooling.

When we reached the bedroom, Andrew swept me off of my feet and carried me to the bed. He has swept me off of my feet from the very beginning. I wanted him so badly. I needed him to take me, to own me. I needed him to fuck me. It’s part of our pact. I will never look at another man; ever. I’ve been his from the first moment we touched. It’s somehow alright for Donnie to take a lover. I understand that. But if I did it, it would hurt him deeply even as he gave his consent. I love him far too much to even consider it.

He tore at my clothing. He saw the need in my eyes. I saw the lust in his. We were both naked and he was there. That huge penis was again entering me in a single stroke. I was ready for him, but it always seems to overwhelm me. He went deep, then backed out and then went deeper. 

He began to hump me, to pound our sexual organs together. He was fucking me, just as I needed him to. I don’t know, eventually I started to scream. His fingers were pinching my nipples, massaging my breasts. 

We were dancing the dance of ultimate lust. Again he laid his claim on my soul. Again I gave it to him gladly. We will never be apart, not for a week, not for a day.

I felt him grow inside my womb. My passion erupted along with his penis. We came together in a rush of shared elation. I felt the fleeting nature of my consciousness as emotion overpowered me. 

With what little reason I had left I heard myself whisper in my beloved’s ear, “death by fucking.” 



Death By Fucking Ch. 19



Chapter 19: Fantasies Fulfilled?

The Year Eight

Donnie’s Story 

People in this country must think our family life revolves around sex, which is patently ridiculous. These magazine articles have only added fuel to the fire. 

First there was that hilarious Playboy article with the twin centerfolds. Then Cosmo comes out and suddenly my and Deirdre’s naked asses are prominently displayed in every grocery store in the country.

That issue was Cosmo’s all-time best seller. Andrew bought three copies himself. And then the wretched man had a copy of the magazine hand-delivered to our parents. I’m not sure how pleased they were to receive it. 

And now Dee Dee and I are regularly appearing in the top twenty ‘sexiest women in America’ polls although the two of us only occupy one spot. When he isn’t kidding us about it, Andrew tells us that we deserve to head the list. He’s such a sweet liar.

We are getting propositions every day in the mail. And we have a large collection of penis pictures. Why do men think that such things are attractive? Why would they send pictures of them in the mail? I agree they are utilitarian, but beautiful? Hardly. And if they are trying to boast about their size perhaps they are unaware that we have to deal with that monstrous thing swinging between Andrew’s legs every day of our lives. Anything larger would be grotesque.

But Dee Dee loves all of this: the polls, the propositions, the pictures, the penises, the publicity. She thinks it all is hilarious. Back in 2003 we were a couple of frumpy, over-the-hill, lonely, aging businesswomen. And now nine years and six children later we are among the twenty sexiest women in America? We can only blame Andrew for this strange metamorphosis.

Helen decided to accept our offer to come on-board, so now we have two half-finished products and a half-built university. But we do have a full-time lawyer and a full-time publicist. It’s the American way.

Jake is negotiating with several computer manufacturers to use our operating system. Andrew and Jake had to fly to New York with Helen and me to transact some business. 

Helen needs to network with some add agencies. The boys are scheduled to see some major players in the computer industry. But the real reason is that Andrew wants to visit Mad Magazine. Have I mentioned that Andrew is peculiar?

He has convinced himself that the official mascot of New Man University should be Alfred E. Newman. We don’t even have any professors yet and he thinks we need a mascot. And he wants to call the operating system “NewMan AE”. He had Edie dummy up a commercial which starts with a picture of Bill Gates above the slogan “Worry!” and then morphs into a picture of Alfred E. Newman above the slogan “What, Me Worry?” He wants to use the slogan for the operating system. He wants the slogan of the University to be “What, Me Worry?” in Latin.

Have I mentioned that Andrew is peculiar? Because Mad is now owned by a large corporation they might be amenable to selling us the use of their images. I think the truth is that Andrew is just dying to meet the usual gang of idiots.

Andrew plans to put a life-sized statue of Alfred E. Newman in the quad at the University. This is what he wants for the symbol of what we hope will become the most prestigious institute of higher learning in the world. He is such a child.

We stayed at the RIGHA Royal, the rooms beautifully decorated in art deco style. Let’s be frank. We took two suites and I didn’t plan to stay with Andrew. Helen and I decided if we were going to ‘share’, we should do it as far away from the children as possible. Andrew agreed because I asked him so sweetly. He can refuse me nothing, not even this.

Well, it was his idea in the first place; at least the part about me being with Jake. The part about him being with Helen was Helen’s idea. The problem had been Jake. Coward that I am, I asked Andrew to ask Jake. 

It was two weeks ago. We were together in bed. He had reluctantly agreed to change partners on the planned New York trip. But then I said, “Andrew, why don’t you ask Jake if he wants to do this.”

He looked shocked. “Me! I’m the only uninterested party here. I don’t even want to be involved. Come on, Donnie, have Helen ask him. Or you proposition him. Don’t you think I’m going above and beyond the call of duty as it is?”

If I had persisted he would have done it for me. He always does what I ask. But he was right. Either Helen or I would have to be the one to involve Jake. It finally occurred to me that we both should ask him at the same time.

The next day, Helen and I were out back having some lemonade when Jake stopped by. He joined us on the patio and we chatted for a bit. Helen and I had planned the way we were going to go about it. Helen began the ploy.

“Jake”, she said, “Donnie and I were arguing about something. She says that she’s right, but I’m sure that I’m right.”

I could tell he could care less about what we were arguing about. Still he politely took the bait.

“What’s the disagreement about?”

I said, “Well it’s in all the polls. Andrew is the world’s greatest lover. Everyone knows that. And I especially know it. I witness it every day of my life.”

Jake’s eyes widened. Maybe this discussion would be interesting after all. Helen took up the challenge. 

“Donnie, I really only have your word for it. These polls are merely the opinion of unknowledgeable women. How would some woman in Poughkeepsie or Podunk know the kind of lover Andrew is? I’ve had a little more ‘personal’ experience than you have, and I say that Jake is the world’s greatest lover.”

Jake almost spit out his lemonade at that. 

I said, “Jake? Now Helen, Jake is a very sweet boy. But how could you compare him with Andrew Adkins? No offense, Jake.”

Jake was startled but said, “Uh, no offense taken.”

Helen laughed. “I feel the same way, Donnie. Andrew is a most attractive man, but please! How could you compare him to Jake in bed?”

I said, “I guess we are at an impasse. You claim that Jake is the world’s greatest lover. I think that it’s Andrew. But we can’t really know, can we?”

That’s when Helen said, “I suppose there is a way we could find out.”

Helen and I both looked Jake in the eye while giving him our sweetest smiles. He had that ‘deer in the headlights’ look. He had been sitting here enjoying this innuendo-laced conversation when suddenly he became the center of our attention.

Jake is no dummy. He knew what Helen was implying. Still, he was forced to say, “What way exactly is that Helen?”

He was sitting between us (we had arranged the chairs in advance so that it was his only option.) We both moved our chairs closer to his and each of us took one of his arms. 

I leaned close to him, my breasts brushing against his arm, and said, “Jake, honey, can you think of a way we could find out?”

In my limited experience I’ve learned that a man with an erection is far more agreeable than a man without an erection. It seemed to me that Jake was becoming increasingly agreeable.

Still he tried to put up a fight. He said, “Me? Uh, no, I, uh, don’t know how you could find out.” He certainly knew exactly how we could find out.

I decided to be less oblique. We already had him. That much was obvious. I made my voice as sultry as I knew how. “Jake, Helen and I think the only way we can really know is if we give each other a trial run, if you know what I mean.”

Oh, yes. Jake was definitely interested. I wondered how his pants could stand the strain. 

He said, “A trial run? Uh, how does Andrew feel about a trial run?”

I said frankly, “Jake, you know that Andrew is pussy whipped. He admits it himself. He’ll do anything I ask of him. Don’t worry about Andrew. We just want to know how you feel.”

Jake is an experienced trial lawyer. One would think he has learned to react well under pressure. But in this case his cheeks were bright red and he had trouble enunciating his response. “Well, uh, I don’t, uh, know Donnie. Are you two sure about this?”

Helen replied, “Jake, both of us have this little itch we’d like to scratch; just once, and only if everyone is okay with it. Donnie is madly in love with her husband. He has nothing to worry about concerning her emotional fidelity. And you and I may be starting something pretty good, too. At least I hope so.” 

“I don’t want to do anything to harm our relationship. But some people around here seem to think that you might be interested in Deirdre and Donnie. We thought that the three of us, you, me, and Donnie, could scratch any little itches we might be having. No one would get their noses out of joint, no one would be hurt. It’s a win, win, win, situation. Deirdre doesn’t mind either, though she has no interest in being a part of it.”

Jake again asked, “But what about Andrew?”

I again spoke frankly. “Because he trusts you and because he trusts me, I think Andrew can handle this. In fact he suggested the ‘you and me’ part of this. But when Helen came in to the picture, I of course wouldn’t consider excluding her. She and I thought that an even exchange would be an elegant solution. “

“Think it over, Jake. Discuss it with Helen in private. I won’t be hurt if you decide not to do it.” (Here I gave a little pout.) “But I would be disappointed.” 

I had Jake hooked and was slowly reeling him in. He wouldn’t pass up this opportunity in a million years, I was happy to see. Still he didn’t want to appear too eager. When a man’s hard-on is making a circus tent of his pants, it’s difficult for him to not appear eager.

He said, “I don’t know Donnie. We’ll talk it over and get back to you.” He looked at Helen, who licked her lips and gave him another searing smile. She looked capable of rape. 

Helen stood and took Jake’s hand. “Donnie, Jake and I are going to go talk it over.” I know that look. There would be very little talking going on.

Helen’s Story

I hope Jake understands. Perhaps I hope he doesn’t understand. I’ve wanted Andrew Adkins from the first moment I saw him. It has nothing to do with romance; it has everything to do with lust. 

I feel both passion and romance with Jake. But still I want Andrew; just once. Then I’ll be fine. Then I can concentrate on my new relationship with Jake. He’s everything I’ve always wanted, is Jake. But Andrew is a distraction.

We could have stayed at my apartment in the Village when we took our trip to New York, I suppose. I’m subletting it but the new occupant has yet to move in. But I wanted the night to be special, in a special place. So instead we are staying at a mid-town luxury hotel. 

We had dinner at an excellent Japanese restaurant; then went to a jazz club after dinner. It just never occurred to me that Andrew and Donnie are celebrities. They seem so normal. But wherever we went people approached them. 

They both looked gorgeous. Andrew is tall and slim and handsome; his eyes dark and piercing. He looks like a movie star. Donnie is small, delicate, and beautiful; blonde, soft and round. Her eyes are equally alluring, especially when she smiles and they light up. She could still be mistaken for Joanne Woodward, except it seems that everyone knows her for herself now.

I’ll admit that Jake and I looked pretty damn good too. We received our share of glances as well. I could tell that Jake didn’t mind basking in the overflow adulation pointed in the Adkins’ direction.

While Andrew handled all the attention graciously, I could tell that he didn’t want it. Several women made indecent proposals to him at the jazz club, right in front of his wife! Herbie Hancock was performing. He was terrific, but he mentioned that ‘in the audience tonight – the Progenitor, Andrew Adkins, and one of his lovely wives’. 

Donnie seemed unfazed, but Andrew doesn’t like to be the center of attention. I could see that he was relieved when we left the Blue Note and caught a cab back to the hotel.

In the taxi, Jake asked Andrew about it. He said, “You don’t seem to like all the notoriety that much, Drew. You’re just not celebrity material are you?”

Andrew said, “What did I ever do that warrants being a celebrity? I’ve knocked up a boatload of women. That’s it. Other than that, what? Yes, I’ve spawned the vast majority of kids who make up New Man, but no one seems interested in that fact. They are more interested in the knocking up process than the result thereof.” “My wives and my kids: now they are the ones that should be the celebrities. Deirdre and Donnie are beyond beautiful. I’ve known it all along. Now the country knows it too. And the kids?” “Elle is one of the top financial wizards in the country. We might as well have a branch of the US Mint in our back yard. Eddie and Edie are already writing mind-boggling computer programs. Ethan is going to be a world-class architect. And Emmy’s the greatest manipulator on earth. She can arrange for anything. She caused a major government crisis when she was five years old.”

Both Jake and I were startled by that. Donnie said, “Now Andrew, we don’t talk about the things that Emma does.” To Jake and me she said, “Just forget Andrew ever said that, if you don’t mind.”

I couldn’t let that one go. “You can’t just leave it at that. What did Emma do?”

Andrew gave a wan little smile. “Let’s just say that a certain Attorney General stepped on our toes, and now he’s an ex-Attorney General. I know you are a journalist, Helen, but this is off the record. If people in power found out, our ass would be grass.”

My mouth was wide. “Oh my God; she’s the one that did that! I won’t talk, Andrew. The man was a prick anyway. He deserved what he got. You’re serious. Emma did that?”

Andrew just nodded. “Emmy can do whatever she wants to do. She’s smart and devious but not dangerous. Don’t worry about her. Any manipulation she does is generally for the common good. Well, a lot of times it’s to pull off a really funny prank. The girl is incorrigible, but sweet.”

Jake muttered, “Yeah, I know about Emma’s pranks.”

I wondered what that was about.

We made it back to the hotel and went to the elevator. Our suites were on the same floor. It hadn’t occurred to me that the Adkins’ would be so well known. I was worried that Andrew would be recognized after we got off of the elevator. After all, his wife wasn’t the one who would be accompanying him to his bedroom, was she? 

Andrew’s Story

Did you ever feel like you were walking to the gallows? When I was a teenager I totaled my mother’s car driving home from a basketball game. It wasn’t even my fault. Some guy ran a stop sign. But I had to walk into the house an hour later and tell my folks that they had fifty percent fewer cars. That was a most unpleasant evening.

Tonight I feel like a dead man walking. I wasn’t having pre-coital anxiety syndrome, if there is such a thing. If there isn’t such a thing, there should be. What else are you supposed to call it when some guy can’t get it up due to too much thinking? Maybe I should patent the term. 

But shit, I can always get it up. Maybe if my dick would just fail me now and then I wouldn’t have this fucking burden on my shoulders. People don’t know me. They think they do, but they don’t.

I’ve got this absurd reputation. I get introduced in night clubs seven hundred miles from my home, merely because I fuck so many women. People who’ve never talked to me applaud as if I were some kind of celebrity. Women proposition me right in front of my wife as if it were perfectly proper. I’m the world’s most famous fucker.

But who I really am is a nice guy. What I really am is pussy whipped. That’s who and what I am. I fuck hundreds of women every year. I’m unfaithful to my wives over and over again. But I’ve been able to compartmentalize that portion of my existence. I’ve convinced myself that it is a purely mechanical function that I’m performing. I’m doing the work of the institute because I’m almost the only one who can. But I don’t have to like it.

Tonight is different. This has nothing to due with the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind. This has everything to do with two couples fucking around. It isn’t who I am. It isn’t who I want to be. My wife is going to fuck my best friend and I’m going to keep my mouth shut and let it happen. I feel like I’m walking to the gallows.

We rode up the elevator to our floor. There were four of us, but I felt totally alone with my thoughts. I can keep a stoic demeanor. I can turn a Vulcan face to the world. I’ve been watching Mr. Spock my entire life. 

We got off of the elevator and just stood there, looking at each other. Then Donnie stepped up to Jake, slid into his arms and gave him a deep kiss. Well jeez; you’d think she could wait till she got to the room. I’m having enough trouble with this without watching, too.

Donnie stepped back and said, “Thank you, Jake. It’s been good for an old lady’s ego to know that you’d be willing to do this. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. Except I already have everything I’ve ever wanted.” She turned to Helen. “I’m so sorry Helen. I can’t. I just can’t.”

Helen and Donnie were suddenly holding each other, sniffling, both on the verge of crying, it seems. 

Helen said, “Thank God! Thank you, Donnie. You’re right. You are so right. I only want to be with Jake. Sorry Andrew.”

She stepped up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I put my arms around and gave her a real kiss. I don’t know when I’ve ever felt so relieved. I just received a last-minute reprieve from the governor. Jake and I looked at each other. He had a bemused expression on his face. He kind of shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled. He didn’t look a bit disappointed to me.

The two couples parted company and went to their respective suites, but the combination was different than originally planned. Donnie held my hand possessively as we walked to our room.

I slid the card into the key slot and opened the black lacquered door. We walked in to the beautiful deco-style living room of our suite. I closed the door and Donnie turned to me. I could see she was pissed.

She pushed me against the wall and laid into me. “How could you let me go through with this? You bastard, when are you ever going to stand up for yourself? Don’t you have any backbone at all?”

I said, not unreasonably, “But, but, I only wanted you to be happy. I thought you fantasized about being with Jake. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

She said, “You fucking idiot! Jake is built just like you. He looks like you. He plays tennis like you. You are who I fantasize about, not him! Jake is sexy. Of course he’s sexy. Haven’t you ever looked at another woman and thought she was sexy?”

I shook my head. “No I haven’t. I’ve never looked at another woman since the day you and Dee Dee walked in to my life. How could I?” 

I mean, can women turn things around on you or what? I never wanted this thing in the first place. I only went along with it because I’m such a pussy. And now she’s laying the blame on me? With that kind of logic, no wonder I never win an argument with my wives.

She was still pissed. “But you pushed me into the arms of another man! How could you think that I could be unfaithful to you?”

Here was an argument I couldn’t win. A woman can maneuver herself to the right side of any discussion about a relationship and the man has no idea how she does it. One minute you’re a totally innocent bystander, the next minute you’re an axe murderer. How does she pull that off? You end up apologizing for her wanting to be unfaithful. 

I said, “I’m sorry, Donnie. Please forgive me. I love you” - the last desperate statement of a man who knows that he has lost and the only thing left to do is drop back and punt. Sometimes it works.

She attacked me. She threw her arms around my neck, pressed her body against mine and went directly for my lips. Finally she stepped away and pulled me into the bedroom. She hurriedly removed my clothes and pushed me back on the bed.




Death By Fucking Ch. 19



I heard her mumble “you’re going to get it now.”

Her clothes went flying. I’ll admit I was already hard. I’m rarely in close proximity to either Deirdre or Donnie without being hard. It’s some kind of syndrome I have, I guess. There is only one cure. Donnie looked like she intended to apply the cure immediately.

She was naked. It’s hard to describe how beautiful she is without clothes. Her body mesmerizes me. I can’t take my eyes off of her. She is so small. After three kids she still weighs her standard 110 pounds. But where one might expect to see bones or sharp angles, there is only softness and curves. Her skin is like silk, soft and sultry. 

But tonight she wouldn’t let me drink in her beauty. She climbed on top of me so that she was perched directly above my dick. She grabbed it so hard I winced, moved it till she found her entrance and then in one stroke fully impaled herself on my hardness.

She screamed on the way down, then pulled back and began slamming herself up and down my cock. She was still angry. As she gasped for breath and moaned her arousal, she began to curse me out.

“You son of a bitch, don’t you ever look at another woman again! Do you hear me? Oh God! Never! You are mine you bastard. Oh, fuck!”

As she humped me she began to beat my chest with her little fists. She had become a crazy woman. She was fucking and hitting, hitting and fucking. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. She was just so damn cute.

I reached up and pulled her toward me, letting her ride my dick but holding her at the same time. I kissed her gently then began stroking her hair, pulling her face to my chest. 

Donnie’s movements became more erratic as she neared her completion. I was somewhere between hot and confused. Suddenly she sat up straight and ground her pussy down on my pubic bone. Her mouth was open but her eyes were closed. Her face was a mixture of pain, pleasure, anguish and passion as she moaned through her fulfillment. 

And then it was over. Donnie collapsed on my chest. She lay there, still impaled on my dick. Her arms were around me and her cheek was pressed to my chest. 

Then she began to cry. Her emotions were a mess. The poor thing’s body was wracked by sobbing. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but have you ever been buried deeply in the pussy of a beautiful blonde and tried to maintain your composure while her body vibrated on your dick? It’s well nigh impossible. 

Still, I tried to console her as she came down from whatever high she was on. I know enough about women to understand that we were going to have to talk this whole thing out before I could hope to get any relief. 

Donnie said, “I’m so horrible! Oh, Andrew how can you stand me? I do awful things. And then I blame you.”

I patted her head and said, “It’s alright, baby. Everything’s alright. I am to blame for this.”

That wasn’t a good idea. Still crying she popped her head up and said, “Will you stop being such a wimp!? I created this mess, not you.”

It was obvious she wasn’t going to let me accept responsibility as a means to end the discussion, even though I was perfectly willing to do so. Somehow I was going to be blamed for it in the end anyway. Why couldn’t we circumvent all the angst in the middle and go right to the conclusion of the conversation? But she wanted to talk it through. How like a woman.

She said, “How can you stand to be with me? You’re so young and I’m so old.”

Okay, now we’re getting to the root of the problem. Age insecurity strikes again.

I said, “Donnie, we’ve been through this over and over again. You’re an ageless, timeless goddess. Our age difference means nothing.”

She wasn’t buying what I was selling. “Maybe it wasn’t so bad when we first started out. But now I’m into middle age and you are still a young man. Andrew, I’m forty-four years old. That’s middle aged. How can you still love me?”

I said, “You are looking at this all wrong, Donnie. From a certain point of view we are closer in age than we were nine years ago.”

She stopped crying and blinked. I could see she was interested in listening to the convoluted logic that I would use to prove that statement.

She sniffed, “What do you mean?”

I said, “When I was twenty-five, you were 40% older than me. But now that I’m thirty-four you’re less than 30% older than me. The older we get, the proportionally closer we get in age. It’s simple mathematics.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. I think I had successfully diverted her from her original line of thought. 

She said, “Andrew, you think things that no one else has ever thought. You think things that no one else has ever thought of thinking. I love you, sweetie, but you are thoroughly strange.”

I tried to defend myself. “I’m just an average, normal guy.”

She shook her head. ‘You’re not average and you are far from normal. Yes you come wrapped in that beautiful package. But it’s easy to see how the children have turned out the way they have. You have a touch of strangeness and they inherited it.”

She did it again! She started out with this mea culpa but now the focus of the discussion was no longer her but me. How do women do that?

I said, “I don’t know what the heck you are talking about.”

She said, “You do statistical analyses of card distribution in computer solitaire games because you think the computer is cheating you. Average people would assume you are just being paranoid, but then you prove you are right! Average people wouldn’t notice the problem in the first place.”

“You buy paintings of old farm women and then attach the body of playboy centerfolds to their heads. You have theories about subjects that normal people don’t even recognize as subjects, let alone have theories about.”

“You love women who are ten years older than you are. You refuse to acknowledge that the age difference means anything. You are absolutely the most peculiar man I’ve ever met.”

I figured I could ignore all the other stuff. Anybody would see the things I think about and do and theorize about are perfectly ordinary things. Nothing strange going on there. Her real problem comes back to the age difference.

“Donnie, let’s get past this, could we? You are one of the most alluring women in the world. You’ve heard me say it a million times, but now the whole country acknowledges it. You are half of one of the twenty sexiest women in America. When will you admit it to yourself?”

“Oh, Andrew, you know that Dee Dee and I are only basking in your reflected glory.”

“My reflected glory? Are you nuts? I’m a guy who is famous for fucking women I don’t know and don’t want to fuck. What kind of glory is that? Only in America, baby.”

“How you can worry about me loving you or finding you attractive just boggles my mind. You are a walking incitement to riot.”

I latched onto Donnie’s nipple with my mouth and rammed my dick deep within her. I heard her gasp. If I can’t talk her out of this funk, I’ll fuck her out of it. One good thing has come of having all these women. I’m not world famous because I’m bad in bed.

We went from a standing start to fucking like mad minks in the space of a few seconds. I was horny, upset, angry, relieved, embarrassed, and a bunch of other emotions I couldn’t sort out. Donnie surely felt similar if not matching emotions. We needed to cleanse our souls the old fashioned way.

She said, “Oh, Andrew. This is what I need from you right now. Love me, sweetie. Make love to me.”

Her arms went around my back, her legs circled my hips. We needed to establish who belonged to whom. I’ve felt it but I’ve never told her. I’m not a sexist. I’m not a male chauvinist pig. But I just can’t share her. I’m not that sophisticated.

As I rammed into her harder with every stroke I began to talk. My arms enveloped her and we pulled each other tightly together. 

“You belong to me, Donnie, only me. We belong together. I’ll love you. I’ll take care of you. But you belong to only me.”

She smiled that warm mellow smile of hers even as I was fucking her senseless. We brought our lips together and she gave me one of those soul kisses that drive every thought from your head. 

She said, “Andrew, these are the arms I want to die in”.



Death By Fucking Ch. 20



Chapter 20: Empathic Feedback

The Year Eight

Dee Dee’s Story

We’ve only been together nine years, but it seems like forever. My life falls neatly into two distinct eras: Before Andrew and the Andrew Years. The eras are so different that I feel like a totally different person. 

When I was thirty-four, I was doing what I wanted, working at my chosen career and performing well. I was important to some people, mostly customers who I was assigned to help. But aside from Donnie, I had no friends, no lovers, no personal life at all. I was lonely.

And then Andrew appeared and for the longest time, all I had was personal life. But now things are changing again. In all the time since we were married, we hadn’t been apart for even a day. But business and other things have intruded. A foursome went to New York City the other day, mostly on business. But other things were also planned. It is the other things that have me so upset. Suddenly the Andrew Years seem threatened.

When this whole Jake-Donnie thing came up, I went limp and let Donnie have her head. A woman has to do what a woman has to do, I thought. When all this talk about sharing started, I suppose I was a facilitator. It was so out of left field that I really didn’t give it the consideration it deserved. 

For a moment I tried to imagine myself in the role of adulteress and was repulsed by the thought. It was something that would be too dangerous to our marriage, too hurtful to Andrew, and so wrong for me. But for some reason I didn’t extrapolate the same results to Donnie.

If I’m honest with myself, I think I understand my inner motivation. I was first. I was the one who met Andrew, who seduced him, who loved him; first. I suppose I’ve always considered myself to be first wife. It’s selfish and I’m ashamed of myself. But it allowed me to suppose that what Donnie did outside the marriage wouldn’t mean as much.

Andrew’s just can’t say no to us. He will do anything we ask; anything. He sometimes appears to be the same way with the children but it isn’t true. He’s an easy-going person who can be a strict father when necessary.

We’ve known for a very long time that if we ask Andrew for something, he won’t think twice about giving it to us. It sounds like I am blaming Andrew but I’m really blaming ourselves. We sometimes take advantage of him.

But this Donnie-Jake thing places that on a different plane of existence. Andrew should have put his foot down. I should have put my foot down, I know it. I’m as guilty as either of them. Keeping one’s mouth shut is the path of least resistance. But it’s often wrong.

Andrew and Donnie are coming home today. So now I’ll learn how things went. They flew to New York two days ago. Helen and Jake stayed on since they have more meetings to attend. Andrew attended a few of the initial meetings to lend his weight to the event. My Andrew is a celebrity. People get a thrill just from meeting him. He recognizes this and sometimes uses it to our advantage, but it makes him uncomfortable.

I’m like people, I suppose. I’m getting a thrill knowing he will be here today. But I’m so scared. How will we handle this infidelity? 

I don’t have any problem with Andrew being with Helen. Is that a double standard? I don’t think so. Andrew went along because that’s what he does with us. We ask and he delivers.

He isn’t unfaithful to us. He’s never unfaithful. If he went to bed with a million women, Andrew would be incapable of being unfaithful to us. He can never really look at another woman. We are his only addiction. 

I have this man; this sweet, beautiful, adorable man. The entire world acknowledges that he is the sexiest man on earth, yet all he thinks of is us. He’s so wonderful. If we’ve hurt him I think I’ll die.

Andrew’s Story

Stepping onto a plane in New York and then stepping off of the plane in Savannah is a surreal experience. It’s like changing countries, changing eras.

I like New York. When I was a kid of maybe twenty-two I had my all-time best Italian dinner there at a little place off of 3rd Avenue on 53rd Street. Just shopping at some of the odd stores in the East Village is interesting. Walking around Greenwich Village is a trip. 

I’m not trying to belittle New York when I say I was glad to get the fuck out of there. For a while I questioned if we’d make it out. During the cab ride from the hotel to the airport the driver thought he was in the Indy 500 and so did everyone else on the road. 

But I had met who I had to meet, done what needed to be done. My wife and I needed to return to our real world for the sake of our sanity. It wasn’t New York, per se, that had me crazy. It was us, what almost happened. Sometimes I’m dumber than a post.

Donnie snuggled against me through the two and a half hour flight. She’s been very loving and affectionate since our little near-disaster of the other night, not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, I like it.

We grabbed the car out of long-term parking and made our way home. I love that old plantation that we acquired from Doris Johns. It was a wreck when we she gave it to us, but now it’s a great place to live. It’s become home.

I parked the car in the carport and we carried our luggage into the house. We were met in the kitchen by six happy little eKids, hugging us, kissing us, some of them even talking. They aren’t used to us being away.

Dee Dee was standing behind the kids smiling, but only on the surface. My wives have several levels of smile. This one was painted on the front of her face but didn’t reach her heart.

Donnie and I were still hugging the eKids when Emma disengaged herself, walked over to Deirdre and said, “Don’t worry, Momma, Donnie didn’t fuck Jake.”

I could see the look of relief in Dee Dee’s eyes. But I couldn’t let what Emma had said pass. I said, “Emmy, you aren’t supposed to use that word!”

She said, “But you use it Daddy.” I really hate it when a woman throws the truth in your face. 

“That’s not the same thing. I use it only under very special circumstances, in private with your mothers.”

“But what about when you are together with Jake? Both of you say it all the time. And in the car, what about then?”

I hate to get in an argument with Emmy. There’s just no way to win it. And she’s only nine. When she grows up she’s going to be hell.

“Emma, adults know that that’s a word you never say in front of certain people. Can you understand that?”

Emmy hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Sure, Daddy, from now on I’ll know not to say ‘fuck’ in front of you. It makes you crazy.”

My wives laughed. My kids laughed. I know when I’m licked. “Kids, your mothers and I have to talk business. Would you please take a hike for awhile? Emmy, go jump off a bridge or find someone else to annoy, okay?”

The kids all ran off, except for Emma. She looked at me with those dangerously innocent eyes and said, “Daddy, don’t you like me to annoy you?”

I said, “For the time being, give me a break, will ya?”

Then she left to plan the destruction of the world or whatever else was on her agenda for the day.

I said to my wives, “Let’s go in to the living room and have a palaver.”

As we walked into the room, I noticed that Donnie and Dee Dee were holding hands. They have this ‘twin’ thing going. They are beyond close.

There’s this theory I’m working on. My theory is that maybe the move to the next generation wasn’t such a big evolutionary step after all. Maybe what the eKids have is just an extension of what many normal H. sapiens identical twins already experience.

I’ve seen accounts of studies done on identical twins that were separated at birth. Most of the time each twin didn’t even know that he had a clone running around somewhere. And yet their lives seemed to run on parallel courses. 

I saw a story of twin brothers who married women with the same name, had the same number of kids, gave the kids the same names, and did the same job; all the while living hundreds of miles apart and not knowing that somewhere out there was a person just like them. But feeling there was something missing in their lives. 

There is more going on there than coincidence. These people are in some way psychically joined. 

Donnie and Deirdre are psychically joined too. Whatever seminal fluid I added to the mix was just enough to move the eKids to the next psychic level is all. 

That’s my theory. IAM was already breeding for intelligence. Then this twin thing popped up. Through coincidence or fate or whatever, suddenly the psychic energy of the IAM girls started going through the roof because they were all identical twins. It was a combination of two very explainable phenomena that created New Man: breeding for intelligence and the psychic connection of some identical twins. All we did was force a breakthrough; make an incremental step in the right direction. Whatever was going on with twins became extended to everyone in the species; New Man, that is. Momentum was already on our side. 

The real question is this: are the eKids the end result or merely a transitional phase? That one keeps me up at night.

The girls sat on one of the sofas but I remained standing. I needed to talk, maybe pace a bit. Sometimes I need movement to help me think.

I said, “Girls, I have a confession to make. Sometimes I can be a self-centered jerk. Sometimes I’m not as erudite as I appear. I do appear erudite, don’t I? Sometimes the things I do or say differ from the things I think or feel.

What I’m saying is: I screwed up. It’s this Jake thing. It was all my fault. Donnie isn’t to blame, I am.”

Donnie looked cross. “Andrew I thought we had been through this already. Will you stop being Mr. Nice Guy and acknowledge that you aren’t responsible for everything that goes wrong in this house? Sometimes other people mess up too, though not often.”

I’m so used to being the target of abuse by every female in the place that these little digs just bounce right off of me. But I had her this time. I know when I’m the culprit. This time it was my fault. I figure if I can accept the blame, in a weird way I’ll be scoring points with my wives. That usually translates into good things, often of a sexual nature. Besides which, the blame does belong to me.

“Donnie, we agreed from the very beginning that we were going to be truthful about our relationship. We all agreed, right? When this Jake thing came up, I was less than truthful about my feelings even to myself. Not only that, I pushed you into it. Isn’t that true?”

She kind of shrugged her shoulders. “I had my eyes wide open. No one pushed me into anything. I’ll admit, whatever fantasies I had about Jake were mostly subliminal. I never had the slightest intention of acting on them. I never wanted to act on them.”

I said, “You see? I think we can agree that this is all Emmy’s fault. She brought the whole thing up in the first place. Want me to go out and beat the crap out of her?”

Deirdre said, “Andrew, Emma told the truth. It was you that made the jump of turning Donnie’s fantasy into reality.”

I agreed. “That’s what I was saying originally before I was so rudely interrupted. I guess I’ve always felt guilty about these IAM twins. I don’t want to be unfaithful to you. I don’t like being unfaithful to you. But still I feel like I’m being unfaithful to you. Does that make sense?

When the Jake thing came up, I thought it was small of me not wanting Donnie to be with Jake when I’ve been with a thousand other women. Besides which, an intellectual appraisal of relationships seems to indicate that love and sex are totally separate issues. Intellectually speaking, sex has nothing to do with love. At least that’s what I’ve been lead to understand. Jealousy has no place in a mature relationship.

But that’s not what it feels like to me. It’s my problem. I know it. Sex and love are aspects of the same thing, at least concerning my relationship with you two. I just can’t keep them separate. I know I’m immature. But I can’t handle sharing you with anyone. I’m sorry I’m so small-minded and selfish.”

Dee Dee was the first to respond. “All of us are old fashioned that way. The IAM thing is separate. It really doesn’t count. You do your job, we do our job, and IAM moves forward successfully. You can’t argue with success.

We don’t look at these IAM women with jealousy. We don’t feel you are cheating on us. Don’t buy into that guilt, Andrew. You shouldn’t. 

We don’t mind that every woman who sees you lusts after you either. How couldn’t they? You are so gorgeous. But we have our insecurities. We will have a problem if you start to lust after them. We’ve always had this age thing in the back of our minds, especially Donnie, I think. It worries us. It makes us vulnerable.”

I just didn’t know how to address their concerns about age. I said, “Sweethearts, the only ones who care about our age difference are you. I’m in love with you; not your bodies, though they remain fabulous and wonderful. I’m in love with who you are and I always have been. Damn it, Dee Dee. I feel like we are going over ground that we discussed nine years ago. I don’t care how old you are. I don’t care what you look like. I’m helplessly, hopelessly in love with both of you. Nothing will ever change that. I could never be interested in any other woman.”

Dee Dee said, “But we are all guilty this time. The first rule of our relationship has always been to confront our problems head on. You’re right. You let this one slide, and so did I, and so did Donnie. It was one that could have really done some damage. 

You pretend to be a sophisticate but you are really just a small town boy. Andrew, just be honest with us. If you need to say something, say it. 

And I’m just as guilty. I should have opened my mouth. I realized too late that this was a big mistake. Apparently Donnie realized it in time, thank goodness. There is plenty of blame to pass around between the three of us. We need to recommit to openness and honesty.”

I said, “Well yeah, I guess. Our marriage has been going down so smoothly that we’ve been out of practice with confronting problems. This whole thing was about insecurity; Donnie’s insecurity about still being attractive and my insecurity about our sexual relationship. Dee Dee, I think you’re going along with this ‘age insecurity’ thing to show solidarity with your sister. In reality you have to be the most secure woman in the world, and I have to tell you that it’s pretty annoying.

Donnie said, “Okay, Andrew, we get the picture. Everyone accepts some blame for my screw-up and I thank you both. I promise to talk things over with both of you before making any stupid decisions in the future. We all agree, so let’s get off of this subject. I feel bad enough as it is.”

I said, “Okay, Donnie, don’t get touchy. There’s more we need to discuss. Ladies, we have some posts to fill. New Man University and the new technology company we’ve been working on are both getting ready to go. I didn’t bring this up before because everything was in the formative stages. But it looks like we are actually going to bring these things off, so now we need some executives.”

Donnie said, “Andrew you should be the lead executive, whatever title you choose. Most of this is based on your initiative.”

I laughed. “Yeah, right. Donnie, I’m sitting in a room with two PhD’s from Duke University. I’m a Bachelor of Arts from Low Life U. We need a university president. We need a corporate Chief Executive Officer. You two fit the bill perfectly.”

Deirdre objected. “Why us and not you? You’ve been the driving force behind this.”

I said, “First, if only for appearances, it will look much better if our university president has a PhD. Second, you two are the businesspersons in our family, not me. I’m along for the ride. It’s your area of expertise. The eKids do the heavy lifting, you two do the organizational stuff, and I lead the cheers. That’s the way it works in our family.”

Donnie said, “Why can’t you be a PhD? I’ll bet that Youngstown State would be eager to offer you an honorary PhD if you agreed to speak at commencement, something like that. You have to be one of their most distinguished alumni.”

I said, “That’s damning with faint praise. I can see the famous alums of YSU being introduced: Ron Parise, Astronaut; Ron Jawarski, nationally known sports commentator; Andrew Adkins, Doctor of Fucking. I don’t think so.”

Dee Dee was laughing. “I love the little side trips you take in your mind, Andrew. They always make me laugh. But I think this discussion of executive selection will have to wait. I’m not feeling up to it now.”

Donnie said, “Neither do I. I don’t feel right either.”

I was concerned. “What’s the matter, are you two getting ill? Are you going to be alright?”

They said in unison, “We need to visit the Fuck Doctor.”

I had to laugh. That’s me: Andrew Adkins, FD. Those two picked up my little word trip about Youngstown State and carried it to the next obvious step. But they didn’t even have to concur verbally. Each knew what the other was going to say. It’s eerie. It’s a twin thing. It doesn’t even surprise me anymore. Glad I’m their husband.

I’ve been with a thousand different women and not one of them has held a candle to either of my wives. Why would I want beans when I’m getting steak at home? 

There’s more to it than that. I’ve heard people say that variety is the spice of life and yadda yadda yadda. Translate ‘yadda yadda yadda’ to mean: after a while in any relationship the sex can only be routine, the excitement of the early days fades away. Things become perfunctory, repetitive, boring. My only response is: bullshit!

It’s their skin, I think. My original chemical attractor theorem remains intact and apparently irrefutable. When I touch them every emotion I’ve ever had for them rushes back. Every time feels like the first time. I’ll never tire of them if we live to be a hundred. 
My life is good.

Donnie’s Story

Although Dee Dee finds this ‘sexiest women’ thing vastly amusing, I find it thrilling. She laughs equally hard about Andrew’s inclusion on the sexiest male list. It tickles her to think that stodgy old married people like us could be so misconstrued by the general public. 

But it makes me feel young. It makes me feel sexy. After all, isn’t People Magazine the official arbiter of what is young and sexy in America? At least that is what one is lead to believe. I want to believe it but sometimes I can’t.

My insecurities about not being young and sexy undoubtedly lead me to this near disaster with poor Jake. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to him. But I do know that I’ll try to make it up to Andrew. 

Andrew is claiming responsibility for the whole thing. That is so like him. He has this exalted view of himself sometimes, like everything that happens in this family is his doing. He is trying to absolve me of all responsibility for my planned infidelity. If I had gone through with it would he still have been so gracious? Probably; but he’d still be hurting.

Ever since it happened I’ve been especially affectionate to him. It’s my guilt I suppose. I’m sure he is just playing along, waiting for me to return to my normal self. 

Usually I like to kid him, poke fun at his strange ways, his verbosity, his childish theories and flights of fancy. He is such an easy target. What would America think if they knew the very odd person behind that beautiful face? I don’t know if I could be happy with a ‘normal’ person.

I’m not so sure that right now I want sex from the ‘fuck doctor’ (that’s going to be our private name for him for a long time to come, I can tell). What I want is skin-to-skin contact. It’s as if I need to be reassured of Andrew’s love by the act of touching. I’m so afraid that I had driven a wedge between us.




Death By Fucking Ch. 20



We went up to our bedroom and each of us disrobed, Andrew assisting both of us as much as we would let him. He loves to touch us. 

We all lay down on the bed, with Andrew in the middle, with Dee Dee and I snuggled up on each side of him. Andrew was sandwiched between the two of us.

He said, “This is the life: surrounded by two hundred and twenty pounds of fabulous female flesh.”

Deirdre said, “Two hundred and twenty-one pounds.”

I said, “Two hundred and twenty-two pounds.”

Andrew looked shocked. “You’re both getting fat! To be honest, I didn’t notice the extra pounds anywhere. I can assure you they didn’t go to your tits.”

I elbowed him in the ribs, but we were all so comfortable that we hardly felt like kidding about the fluctuation in our weight.

He held us tighter till we felt like one continuous person. We get so close and comfortable this way. Dee Dee and I have some kind of connection that seems to defy logic. Each seems to know what the other is thinking sometimes. Maybe it’s just that we are so alike that we end up thinking the same things. But when we get close like this it almost feels like there is a continuous mental-emotional connection linking all three of us. 

I wasn’t really overcome by passion, but still I wanted Andrew inside me. I looked over at Deirdre. “Dee Dee, would you mind if I climbed on for a few minutes. I need to feel closer.”

She smiled. “Go ahead. I’m comfortable just as we are.”

I took hold of Andrew at his most sensitive spot and impaled myself upon his beautiful cock. We were still a three-person sandwich, but now I was on top. I lay there, just relishing the feel of the three of us together, the feel of Andrew so deeply inside of me, of his arm pulling me even tighter. I could die in those arms.

My cheek was on Andrew’s chest as I looked into Dee Dee’s eyes. She had the contented happy smile she so often wears. Dee Dee must be the most secure and happy person on earth. She radiates such nurturing warmth. No wonder Andrew and I love her so. 

I was there innocently riding Andrew, just making the slightest of motions to keep up the contact between his manhood and my womanhood, when it hit me. There was no build up that I was consciously aware of. I was suddenly so very aroused. I began wildly humping, moving ever more rapidly up and down his shaft. I let out a loud moan and I was having a massive shuddering climax, my pussy convulsing around his member. My eyes closed in ecstasy as I let the feelings of fulfilled arousal and romantic lust overwhelm me. 

I opened my eyes to find Dee Dee staring at me, still wearing her Mona Lisa-like smile. I could see by her look that she was happy for me. I was happy for me. Andrew loves me. As awful as I am, he loves me. I can feel it in my heart. I can see it in his eyes. We three have a love that transcends all else. I’ll never do anything to threaten that again.

Emma’s Story

I could feel that Momma Donnie was finished. I don’t usually eaves-drop on my parents (it pisses Daddy off if he thinks we are doing that), but they are so emotional we kids have trouble tuning them out sometimes. Besides, I needed to talk to them and I didn’t want to interrupt at an embarrassing time. It wouldn’t be embarrassing for me, but they are so sapien. So I waited till Donnie was finished.

I knocked. I heard Daddy say to come in. My parents were lying in bed, all wrapped in each other. One of my favorite things is to feel their love for one another. I want to help them feel that too. 

Sometimes Momma Donnie is afraid of losing Daddy’s love. She doesn’t understand that it can never happen. I want to help her understand that.

All three of them smiled at me when I went into the room. They didn’t mind me being there. And they were interested in why I was there. After all, we kids never interrupt our parents when they are making love. It’s one of our rules.

I said, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

All three of their heads were sticking out from under the covers. Momma Dee Dee and Momma Donnie were snuggling with Daddy in between. Daddy’s nice to snuggle with. I do it all the time when we are watching movies. 

Dee Dee said, “What do you want to talk about, honey?”

I said, “I need to talk to you about something. You had a problem and maybe I started it by opening my mouth. I like to open my mouth.”

Daddy said, “It wasn’t your fault, Emmy. You just told the truth. Maybe sometimes we don’t need to hear all the truth all of the time. But what happened wasn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.”

He didn’t get my point. “Daddy, I know it wasn’t my fault. I just gave you some information. Then you three went crazy. I think we need to talk about your relationship.”

Donnie said, “What are you talking about? You’re our little girl and we love you. But you have no business interfering in our relationship.”

I said, “I’m sorry, Momma, but I know more about your relationship than you do. I think I can help you understand each other better.”

Daddy intervened. He appreciates my mind more than either of my mothers. They’ve never really understood how smart we are. To them we are their sweet and talented little boys and girls. Daddy knows better. 

“If you have something you think will help, Emmy, we’ll listen. But this better be good.”

I said, “Well your problems all started with one of Daddy’s ridiculous theories.”

Both of my mothers laughed. Daddy said, “You’re cutting me to the quick, here. Which theory are we referring to?”

I said, “It’s that silly ‘chemical attractors’ thing. You talk about it so much I think that Donnie and Dee Dee actually believe it. But it’s not only stupid, it’s dangerous.”

Daddy looked hurt. “Stupid? Dangerous? Maybe you better explain yourself.”

I said, “Daddy, you’ve convinced yourself that your relationship is built on some sort of chemical attraction that none of you can fight. Don’t you see that Donnie might think that as she gets older and enters menopause that her body chemistry might change enough to turn off the chemical attraction?”

Daddy looked shocked. I could see tears forming in Momma Donnie’s eyes. Daddy said, “Donnie, you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

She said, “I don’t know. I guess that the thought had crossed my mind. I’m old, Andrew. Menopause is right around the corner. What then?”

I jumped in. “Daddy, your theory sucks.”

He said, “Well, do you have a better one?” rather petulantly for a thirty-four year old man, I thought.

I said, “Actually, I do. Had it occurred to you that it might just be love?”

He frowned. “That isn’t the point, Emmy. We felt like this from the first moment we met. Love doesn’t work that way.”

I said, “Why not? All three of you are special people for Homo sapiens. You must be or you wouldn’t have given birth to New Man. Would you like to know how I think it happened?”

Dee Dee jumped in. “Oh, yes, Emma. I certainly would love to hear this. I’ve always thought that Andrew’s theory was more amusing than factual. I personally never took it that seriously, though apparently Donnie did.”

Daddy looked at Momma Dee Dee with his mouth open. “You don’t buy my ‘chemical attractors’ theory? Why not?”

Dee Dee kissed Daddy on the cheek. “Don’t be hurt, Andrew. That theory gave me an excuse to seduce you, so it served its purpose. But it is just a little silly, don’t you think?”

Daddy turned to me. “Okay then Miss Big Mouth. Let’s hear the official New Man theory.”

“Daddy, it’s more than a theory. Let me explain. First, you and Dee Dee talked on the phone a lot before you met, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Well, yes. So what?”

“So you started to know each other even before you met. And you both liked each other. You liked each other’s minds. You both needed someone who was intelligent and who respected your intelligence as well.

The important factor that you haven’t considered is empathy. The things that separate New Man from Homo sapiens are intelligence and empathy. The telepathy part is a subset of empathy, I think. But all three of you are in the upper one percentile of H. sapiens for both intelligence and empathy. That’s unusual.

Dee Dee and Donnie have the empathy that many identical twins have, multiplied by the fact that they are fourth generation identical twins. Each generation was more empathic than the previous one. It has reached the point that you are almost telempathic with each other. You must have noticed.”

Momma Dee Dee and Momma Donnie looked at each other. They shared an embarrassed smile. I knew what they were thinking. I can read their thoughts, after all. They did notice. Most of their shared empathy was during sex. That is when their emotions are at their peak. I thought I better not bring that fact up. They like to pretend that their sex lives are private.

I continued. “And Daddy, you are just a naturally empathic person. Call it pure chance, but you are even more empathic than Dee Dee and Donnie. After all, you felt us girls in Momma’s womb, and our Mommas didn’t

That brings us back to when Daddy and Dee Dee first met. You already liked each other’s minds. Dee Dee especially liked that Daddy respected her for her brain. And then when you met, well, you both were physically attracted to each other. You are both very attractive for H. sapiens. So you liked each other’s minds and found each other very physically attractive. And Daddy, you thought Dee Dee had a sexy voice. You were half-way in love with her before you met.

What happened was, when you touched, (you did shake hands, right?), the empathy factor kicked in. You felt each other’s natural attraction and your high empathy caused a bridge. You got caught in an empathic feedback loop that built upon itself. Each person’s attraction for the other fed upon itself and just kept getting greater. You were madly in love before you even realized it. That’s what happened. It had nothing to do with chemistry and everything to do with love. You love each other because of who you are, not because of some imagined body chemistry.”

Donnie said, “But what about me? How could the same thing have happened twice if it wasn’t chemical?”

I said, “You were both totally ready for each other when you met. Momma, you were prepared to love Daddy even before you met him. And Daddy was fooled when you first met into thinking you were Dee Dee. So when you touched (you did touch, didn’t you?)” - I could see by their guilty looks that they touched about as much as two people could possibly touch when they first meet – “you got caught in the same empathic feedback loop that Daddy and Dee Dee fell into. When Daddy found out you weren’t Dee Dee, and he must have suspected something because he could subconsciously sense a difference in your empathy, he found he was in love with you too.”

Momma Dee Dee said, “I like this theory. This is a good theory. Sorry, Andrew, but until something better comes along, I’m buying Emma’s theory over yours.”

I said, “Uh, Momma, I’m not done.”

Daddy said, “There’s more? I thought you covered all of the bases. If my wives like your theory better than mine, then fine. I’m going to withhold judgment for a while until I know more.”

Donnie hit him. “Andrew, don’t be a spoil sport. This theory works for me. It means we love each other forever. Even if we can’t prove it, it’s a lovely theory.”

“Daddy I have some bad news for you.”

He said, “What? What could be worse than attacking one of my finest theories?”

I said, “Well, you know this ‘sexiest man on earth’ thing. It might not be entirely accurate.”

He said, “Now what! You haven’t been ‘adjusting’ the polls have you? I should have realized it.”

“I didn’t adjust the polls, Daddy. I didn’t do anything, this time. It’s just that you are famous for doing a certain thing. People think you are the best in the world at doing that certain thing.”

Momma Dee Dee was amused. I think she finds everything funny. My Momma just loves life. “Go ahead, Emma. Say it. You mean that people think that Daddy is the world’s greatest lover.”

Daddy said, “Okay, where are you going with this?”

“Think, Daddy! Who have you been making love to? You’ve been with a thousand different women, but they are all IAM twins! For them you are the world’s greatest lover. Your empathy touches their empathy and you can feel what they need. You do all the right things for them because you can sense what is right for them. It’s just a natural fit.

But before you met Momma Dee Dee, didn’t you have lovers then? Did they think you were God’s gift to women?”

He said, “Hey, my sex life before I was married is none of your business. Come to think of it, my sex life after I was married is none of your business either. Okay, I’ll admit it. Sex was always pleasant but not spectacular. Sex only became spectacular after I met Dee Dee and Donnie.”

I said, “Aren’t you glad you didn’t go to bed with Helen? She would be the first to discover the truth. And she would have won the bet between her and Donnie.”

Donnie said, “How did you know about our bet, you little vixen?”

Daddy was ready to capitulate. “Forget it Donnie. Emmy knows everything about everyone. That’s who she is. One of the things that have gone down the tubes with the advent of New Man is personal privacy. It’s an alien concept to them. Still it’s just a theory. She can’t prove it.”

I said, “But I can prove it. I can make you understand it. I can let you feel it. How would that be?”

Daddy answered. “What are you talking about? How can you let us feel it?”

I asked, “Do you trust me, Daddy? Would you let me tweak you a little bit?”

I could feel his fear. He has this fear of mind control. That’s why he is such a freedom of speech advocate. He doesn’t want people controlling what he thinks or says, ever.

I said, “I promise I won’t be making you think anything or feel anything that you don’t already think or feel. I’ll just open the pathways that are already there a little bit. You three are so close to us kids in empathy. Would you like to feel what we feel? If you don’t like it I can change things back.”

Daddy had his doubts but I could tell that Momma Dee Dee and Momma Donnie were all for it. I could see that they were rubbing his chest under the covers. 

Donnie said, “Oh, come on, Andrew. Let’s experiment a little. Maybe it will be fun. If you don’t like it, Emma can take it back, can’t you Emma?”

Daddy sighed. He can never say no to my Mommas. He is such a pushover. 

He said, “Okay, Okay! I’ll do it. You better not screw this up Emmy, or I’ll rip your arm off and beat you over the head with it.” He is so funny sometimes.

I closed my eyes and just felt them. I followed their pathways. I knew what I was doing. I’ve been this way many times, just to see if I could do it. I just never made the adjustments before. I was telling the truth. They are so empathic already, especially for H. sapiens, that the change was a minor one. 

I opened my eyes and my parents were looking at me lovingly. They knew! I felt it. I climbed on the bed and crawled on top of Daddy’s chest. I hugged him. I couldn’t help it, I began to cry. Daddy finally knows how much I love him.



Death By Fucking Ch. 21



Chapter 21: Interactive Love

Deirdre’s Story

Our little girl has changed our lives. Something – hypnotism, magic, psychic brain surgery – has moved our relationship to a place we never knew existed. It’s what I suspected about our children all along. But I never expected it for my husband or my sister or myself. 

We long ago had recognized that the children ‘touched’ each other with their emotions. Andrew calls it telempathy. But I must say that I was the first one of us to recognize the implications. I had guessed that they could ‘feel’ the emotions of others to the point that they understood what it was to be loved. I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic.

Everyone knows what it’s like to love. But to feel the love of others, what would that mean? It would surely eliminate uncertainty in relationships. One wouldn’t need flower petals to determine if ‘he loves me’ or ‘he loves me not’. But what else would it mean? With Emma’s help we found out.

It’s the warmest, most comforting feeling in the world. It is equivalent to that first time you fell in love and for the very first time touched your lover. That first touch held so much meaning, was so warm and tender, at once exciting and fulfilling. 

But this first touch is made inside your heart, touching not skin but souls. I was always sure of our love for each other. But it means much more to feel him inside of my heart, and to be inside his. 

Other people must be so lonely. They can never experience truly interactive love. 

After Emma had altered us, brainwashed us, programmed us, whatever, she left to allow us to explore our newfound sensibility. I was glad that Donnie had selfishly ridden Andrew for a quickie before Emma had come to us. I felt perfectly justified in taking my turn with our husband.

I’ve always been somewhat baffled but ecstatic by Andrew’s feelings about me. I knew he had them. He made that clear from the start, not just with his words but with his actions and his attitude. To me he always spoke with his heart. From our first time together so many years ago, I knew that the boy found me irresistible. I didn’t know why he felt that way, but it brought me more joy than I ever imagined. 

I was his any way he wanted me. He was irresistible to me, too. He didn’t need to love me madly to have me. But love me he did.

Emma had left and I turned to look at my spouses. Andrew had fixed a gaze upon me, one that said everything. I suddenly realized that words were almost unnecessary because I felt what Andrew was feeling. There was love and adoration there. It made me feel proud and wanted. But rising behind the love, grabbing it and taking it higher was a rush of lust. I felt his lust and he felt mine. Our mutual lusts fed upon each other, not diminishing them but making them greater. 

Love and lust, intermingled and indistinguishable, made us reach for each other, at first softly and romantically, but then with increasing urgency. I wanted him inside me. I needed to feel that gorgeous cock buried deeply within me, to be one with him in all ways. 

He was already large and hard and seemingly growing larger and harder still. He rolled atop me and our lips met. My eyes closed. I didn’t need my eyes. I was seeing him with my heart. 

I felt that huge bulbous head insinuate itself between my lips – my pussy lips. I let an involuntary groan escape my other lips. He slowly slid into me. I was already wet and ready. I’m always ready for him.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt myself become full to overflowing with Andrew. I’ve practiced several meditation techniques over the years, but here was the nirvana I had been reaching for - a transcendental feeling of bliss enriched with passion; my mind a perfect blank, my emotions one with my friend, my lover, my husband. 

He began to plunge into me and it was as if I were plunging into myself. We had a combined soul! I felt tears flow from my eyes, my emotions too large for my small body to contain. He was inside of me. We were one. How empty I’ll feel without him. 

We were touching in every way. This was the closest we have ever come to being a single being. Our passion was exposed, raw, and overwhelming. We were carrying each other higher and higher. My body clenched around him and I began to spasm in release. 

My climax seemed to last a lifetime. My back was arched, forcing us even closer together. Suddenly I felt Andrew explode into me. He was a primal force of nature! I screamed my ecstasy as Andrew pumped his seed within me. 

The aftermath of our first interactive fuck was almost as passionate as the event itself. Our emotions couldn’t seem to disengage. Our shared joy continued for several minutes until I opened my eyes to see Andrew staring at me. We smiled a secret smile of shared knowledge. I guess we really did know each other in the biblical sense.

Andrew’s Story

That was a distinctly unusual experience. All the while Dee Dee and I were fucking I felt Donnie’s hand on my ass. I remember turning to look at her right in mid-fuck. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be humping the air. I could feel her within me. Damn, she was into it almost as much as we were! This could be interesting.

Afterwards, when Dee Dee had finally returned to the land of the living, we talked it over.

I said, “Donnie, what was that about? Do you get off or something?”

Donnie has this thing. I think she inherited it from Dee Dee. Sometimes when she smiles her eyes light up. Now her eyes were shining like beacons. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but you two were emanating such a huge ball of emotion. I could feel it over here. Andrew, I touched your butt and that seemed to make it easier to tap into. 

“Wow! If that’s what we can expect from now on I think we should increase our insurance. Somebody’s not going to be able to live through that. Talk about death by fucking.”

Deirdre looked at her sister. “Did you have an orgasm?”

Donnie actually blushed. “I’m sorry, Dee Dee. You took me right with you. I couldn’t help it. When you came, so did I.”

I laughed. They both looked at me like I had two heads. But it is funny. “This is going to complicate our sex lives. I’m sure interested if this is going to mean more sex or less sex. At least now you girls will be able to have as many orgasms as I do.”

Dee Dee smirked. She never smirks unless she has something on me. She said, “Andrew, we already were having at least twice as many orgasms as you were. And now we can tap in to each other’s orgasms? This could be sweet. Sorry darling, but being a man, you still only get to have one orgasm at a time.”

Donnie and Deirdre were holding hands during this little talk. I could see the glassy expression on both of there faces. I said, “What is it? Are you two still coming down?”

Donnie nodded her lovely blonde head. “Dee Dee is still into post-coital passion. Sorry, but it feels so good just to join her. This still isn’t girl-on-girl sex Andrew, so you just get that thought out of your head! We’re just sharing our feelings with each other like always. Well, maybe a tad more intimately than before.”

Then they hugged each other. That’s a sight I rarely see: two gorgeous and naked girls hugging; their soft little bodies touching at all the most interesting places. It’s enough to make a guy horny.

When they broke from their embrace, Dee Dee said, “Forget it Andrew. Don’t even go there. I swear you are an animal!”

Geez, she could sense my horniness! This could be a good thing or this could be a bad thing. But it’s not my fault. They may have been just displaying sisterly affection, but it looked pretty damn hot to me. I’ve got to keep my digital camera next to the bed. It’s a crime to miss a picture like that.

I decided to bring up an old and decidedly unhappy subject. I figured we might as well clear the air one final time.

“Girls, something occurred to me here and I want to pass it by you. You’ve got to agree this thing casts our relationship in a new light. Now don’t go flying off the handle or anything, but this telempathy thing sure makes it easier to be sure of another person’s feelings, am I right or not? I’m just saying, Donnie, is that if you want to try that ‘Jake thing’ again, this time I’m pretty sure I could handle it. I feel much more secure about our relationship now.”

Deirdre and Donnie looked at each other and laughed. They actually laughed. 

Donnie said, “Andrew you can be oblique sometimes. For what possible reason would I want to be with Jake now? As you so adroitly stated, our relationship is more secure now than ever. I know how you feel about me in your heart of hearts. It’s something you just can’t hide. I’m no longer worried about being attractive enough for you. And with us, sex was never a problem. Please, forget the Jake thing.”

Deirdre opened her mouth in wonderment. “My God! Do you realize that this might be the evolutionary ‘reason’ for telempathy. I know that evolution doesn’t have any reasons. I mean that this might solve one of the human race’s major problems: fidelity in pair bonding. Think of it! A major reason for unhappiness is sexual incompatibility. One partner isn’t getting enough. Another partner isn’t doing it right. And neither one will talk to the other about it. Instead they stray outside the relationship to get what their partner isn’t giving them. 

“But now talk will become superfluous where sex is involved. One will know how the partner feels. Uh oh, fake orgasms will be a thing of the past. Women won’t be able to play that game anymore.”

I couldn’t help it. I had to jump in. “Fake orgasms! Are you telling me…”

Donnie hit me in the ribs. “Andrew, you are such a worry wart. If you think we’ve been faking all these years then we deserve one of Joanne Woodward’s Academy Awards.”

Dee Dee kissed me sweetly on the cheek. “No, Andrew, we’ve never had to fake it with you. Sweetheart, I seriously doubt that any woman would fake multiple orgasms. Please don’t think you have to work harder to please us. You will kill us.”

I was mollified, I guess. “So you’re saying that telempathy will cut down on infidelity? New Man will have far fewer divorces. People won’t be marrying each other for the wrong reasons, mostly. And everyone will be honest in their sex lives, mostly because they have no other choice.” Hey, I can pick up a theory and run with it. 

Dee Dee nodded. “Not only that, if our first session of interactive lovemaking is any indication, people won’t even stray just for the variety. One can’t possibly have the complete sexual experience with someone one doesn’t love, can one?”

I saw a hole in the logic. “But what about a situation like ours? Is it possible to love more than one person completely? If so, they’ll have to change the laws on bigamy.”

Donnie was ready to put an end to this. “Okay, okay. We get it. Everything changes, again. You see, sweetie that I couldn’t possibly be with anyone but you from now on. The sex would be pale in comparison to what we have. Of course, that’s a theory I’m working on. I think we better test it out just to be sure I’m right.”

With that Donnie climbed on top of me and started to rub that velvety skin, those soft round boobs against me. I got hard so fast that my dick practically lifted her off me. 

She said, “Oh, yes. Still interested, I see. You are such a good boy, doing just what Momma Donnie wants. Now Donnie wants you from behind.” 

She crawled off of me and kneeled on the bed beside me, her gorgeous little ass sticking up. She turned her head, casting her glance in my direction. Her sultry eyes were so fucking hot! I got behind her. My dick slid easily along her lips as my hands reached around to cup those lovely little tits. 

I could feel her impatience. That’s a very odd thing, knowing exactly how your partner is feeling. I’m the kind of guy who thinks it isn’t such a bad thing to make a girl wait a little. I kept stroking her pussy lips with my dick while fondling her, tweaking those nipples I so love to suckle. 

Finally Donnie said, “Enough already, Andrew. You’ve made your point. Fuck me you little bastard!”

She can be so eager. How could life be better than this? I drove into her until my stomach was flat against her ass. I felt her cum as I bottomed out. This could be a problem. I was trying to remember who played center for the Browns in 1993, Steve Everett or Jay Hildenburg. I needed something, anything to keep me from cumming with Donnie. 

Damn, I regained control. That was close. I moved one hand off of Donnie’s tit. It traced a path down her stomach and zeroed in on her pussy. I was slamming my dick in and out, retreating till just the head retained a foothold, then again sliding deeply within her. Man is she tight, that wet glove-like warmth just wraps around you. She’s built for comfort and speed.

I began to play with her clit, just circling it with my finger. As with Dee Dee, we achieved a marriage of emotions. I couldn’t tell where my feelings ended and Donnie’s began. She is one passionate woman! Her neck was arched, her head moving from side to side, her body driving back and forth with each plunge of my dick. Deirdre was sitting in front of us, her beautiful naked body filling my sight just as Donnie’s body filled my touch, my smell. 

Dee Dee reached out with her hands to us. One hand touched Donnie’s face. Her other hand touched mine. Deirdre’s eyes lit up with the passion of the moment. Her face grimaced with the pain/pleasure that Donnie and I were feeling. 

It was too much. Donnie went over the top, her pussy impossibly grabbing my dick even harder, pulsing her orgasm, drawing out my own. I pumped my semen into her as Donnie clenched her pussy around my dick till I thought she would rip it off. Donnie screamed. Dee Dee screamed! I didn’t scream. I’m not a screamer. 

Donnie collapsed on the bed. I followed her down. This new thing we have, this telempathy, makes the afterglow of sex seem almost as good as the sex itself. I held her, my semi-hard dick still comfortably inside her. We were basking in the warmth of our combined fulfillment. We both reached and took Deirdre’s hands in ours. Dee Dee had that contented cat smile on her face, that look that means all is right with the world. 

It is beyond logic. We’ve been together all these years. It’s impossible to love these girls more than I already did. But the impossible has happened. There is no doubt now. The next generation of man will be the happiest humans that ever lived. They will thrive on interactive love.



Death By Fucking Ch. 22



© 2004 by Andrew Wiggin

Chapter 22: The Quick Years

The Year 13

Deirdre's Story:

I had to go into town to pick up something at the drugstore, so I grabbed Emma to go along for the ride. We have a rule in our house: no parent goes anywhere without being accompanied by an eKid. 

There have been rumblings over the years about us. We've heard them. We've read about them. We aren't necessarily the most popular people in eastern Georgia. It's strange to take a teenager along as one's personal bodyguard. 

The eKids are powerful. No one really knows how powerful. We've spent their lifetime trying to teach them not to abuse their powers. And in the idyllic existence we've made for them, why should they have to display their strengths? 

Emmy and I had been into the drugstore to pick up a prescription to help Donnie and me with our menopausal woes. We had parked in the little parking lot in the alley behind the store. The drugstore was one of the old-fashioned ones that still have a soda fountain, so Emma had lingered behind to pick up something to drink. I should know better than to walk the streets alone, but Statesboro is such a lovely, safe little town. 

I saw him standing in the alley. I know it is my prejudices speaking, but I just am less than comfortable around men who have tattoos covering their entire bodies from the chin down; especially ones who weigh two hundred and fifty pounds and wear leather vests with no shirt.

Like any other woman, I pretended to ignore his existence and made for my car in the lot. I felt myself willing him away. After all, what interest would he have in a person like me, a late-forties, frumpy old lady? But it was not to be.

As I approached my car, he stepped in front of me.

"Hey, baby. Where you goin' in such a hurry?"

For the first time I looked him in the eye. I would have looked him in the eyes, but one of his was obviously glass.

I said, "Excuse me, sir, but you are in my way." I quickly glanced around and realized that I saw no one. I suspected that this man may not have my best interests at heart, so I issued a little mental distress call to my daughter, still in the drugstore. 

He said, "You're her, ain't ya' babe?"

I replied, "I'm who?"

He laughed. "You're the Progenitor's bitch! I've seen pictures of your naked ass. I've always wanted to see that ass for myself. Come on, baby, let me see that ass."

I said, "Please young man, you don't really want to talk to me that way. It would be best if you just backed away before someone gets hurt."

Just then Emma walked out of the drugstore and came hurrying up to me. 

"Momma, is everything all right?"

I said, "Everything's fine, sweetie. This man is going to allow us to walk past him and go to our car."

But the man had other ideas. "Damn, you are one hot little thing! You're sexier than your mama. I might just have to do me a family sandwich. Yeah, you two are goin' to have a good time with me."

Then the huge ugly thing drew out a large ugly knife. "Why don't you two just get in the back of my van over there? It's time for a little mother-daughter fuckin'."

Emma actually laughed. "Little boy, you aren't man enough to take care of one of us, let alone handle two at a time. Why don't you take your puny little dick home and whack off?"

I have no idea why she finds situations like this amusing. I said, "Now Emma, you leave the man alone. I'm sure that he doesn't mean any harm."

The fat ugly thing looked confused. "What the hell are you two sluts talkin' about? Now get in the van before I cut someone!"

Suddenly the man looked past us and I saw a look of fear come into his eyes. I turned but couldn't see anything. Emma whispered to me, "You wanna hear this?" I just nodded.

In my mind I heard a herald of trumpets followed by a voice that sounded suspiciously like Cecil B. DeMille in "The Ten Commandments". You'd think that Emma would have some originality.

The voice said, "Thus saith the Lord: If thy right eye offends thee, pluck it out. If thy dick offends thee, cut it off!"

I whispered to Emma, "Is that really in the Bible?"

Emma said to the fat man, "It looks like you already did the eye part; how about the dick?"

The fat man looked stricken. He pulled down the zipper of his pants and reached in and pulled out a truly puny penis. I said to Emma, "For heaven's sake, don't let him cut it off!"

I heard the sonorous voice of DeMille shout "Stop! Go sinner and sin no more! If you try this again, you will be eating your balls for breakfast!"

The fat man turned and ran like hell. Both Emma and I were laughing by the time the man's van had sped down the street. I hugged her. She can turn even a dangerous event into a comic misadventure. 

I said, "Emma, that man is a menace to society. We should do something to be sure he doesn't try to harm anyone else."

She laughed. "I saw 'A Clockwork Orange', Momma. That little heavenly vision is implanted in his brain. Every time he thinks about being violent he's going to have a visit from an angel."

I was shocked. "Emma, I didn't know you had any religion at all. When did you read the Bible?"

She just shrugged. "Of course I've read the Bible. Do you take me for an illiterate? H. sapiens like their religion, Momma. I sensed that the fat man was raised in one of those Southern Baptist sects that drive Daddy crazy. He doesn't go to church, but he still thinks he will burn in hell for all of the bad things he has done. Maybe now he'll stop doing bad things and he will end up in whatever weird little vision of heaven he sees.

"One day I'm going to write a book quoting all the contradictory passages in the Bible. I'll write a chapter using one set of verses, then another chapter condemning the previous chapter with another set of verses. I'll call it 'Dueling Bibles'".

I was horrified. "Well if you do, please use an assumed name. Don't mention your father at all. Please don't involve IAM in this. Most of the Religious Right already believes that we are blasphemers and heretics. Your father is the Anti-Christ. Don't give them any more ammunition."

We drove home. Everyone was waiting for us and we were mobbed when we got out of the car. Andrew looked so worried. I don't now whether Emma had somehow let the others know about our little confrontation, or if the others had sensed it by themselves. 

He said, "Dee Dee, are you okay? Emmy, are you all right? That S.O.B. didn't hurt you, did he?"

Before Andrew could start lecturing me on making sure I am safe, I went for a preemptive strike.

I said, "Andrew, just calm down. We were never in danger. Emma is our personal little anti-violence crusader. She convinced the man to leave us alone and to be good from now on. He won't be a danger to anyone ever again."

Andrew hugged Emma. He always hugs Emma. I heard him whisper to her, "Maybe we can sneak you into the White House. You can train the President to be anti-violent and we can stop having all of these crazy little wars."

She just smiled and basked in his affection. She is a sucker for her Daddy's affection. So am I. 

The Year 18

Donnie's Story: New Man U.

New Man University is ten years old. Already it's one of the most respected institutes of higher learning in the country. That certainly has something to do with the advances made in scientific areas by the faculty and students – mostly the students. But it also must in part be due to the integrity and ethics that are such an integral part of the university. 

After we received our charter we started hiring the best possible faculty. We pay top dollar to top-of-the-line professors who want an opportunity to teach the intellectual elite of the world. The top minds on earth don't teach at New Man U. The top minds are the students at New Man U.

We've got research facilities being built constantly, upgrading to state-of-the-art hardware, much of it designed by our own students. We've received additional funding from major corporations who only want the opportunity to take advantage of the research that is a minor by-product of the education of the next generation. None of that research involves weapons.

Ours is a unique setup. Every attendee of New Man U. is on full scholarship. We don't charge anything. However, we make them sign an honor pledge when they come to school. They agree to give the University endowment fund 10% of the net profits of anything they develop while in attendance, continuing for five years after graduation. Like Andrew says, somebody has to pay for all of those scholarships. We can't expect Elle to devote her entire life to financing New Man U.

We don't do contracts. Contracts are things written to let people know what they can do to get out of the terms of the contract. We don't work that way. We have the eKids state that on their honor they will give back to the university some of what they got out of it. There is a stipulation in the pledge that if any kid really needs the money, the pledge is null and void. They can honor the pledge or not honor the pledge. There is nothing legally binding about it. We try to teach them that legality doesn't matter. It is their word of honor that counts.

We aren't a four-year college. An eKid can come to New Man U., stay for as long as she likes, announce her graduation and leave. If at some point later the eKid decides to return to the University, she will merely renounce her degree and come back. All of the older eKids are females. The D-generation didn't start popping out males until later.

We've only been around for ten years, but governments and businesses are panting for the graduates of New Man U. Our oldest students are eighteen years old. Our youngest are six. We even built quarters so that parents can come and be with their children. 

Little does the outside world know that our basic curriculum here revolves around the teaching of ethics. We want to equip these kids to go out into the world and act as shepherds. They are already well equipped to handle life in the world of H. sapiens. We're worried about H. sapiens handling life in a world controlled by New Man. Because there is no doubt that eventually, sooner rather than later, the eKids will run the world. 

So we teach them right from wrong, insofar as we understand it. I'm sure that soon they will be teaching us. Each and every one of them is a potential weapon. Each can achieve whatever he desires in the world of H. sapiens. Is it wrong for us to want them to fulfill their dreams without destroying the dreams of others? Is it wrong to teach them to leave a minimalist footprint wherever they walk? 

One could call us bleeding heart liberals, I suppose, even though we don't look at ourselves that way. We look for a world where everyone is treated with respect and honor. That's our goal, Andrew's, Dee Dee's and mine. Before the first brick was laid, the first foundation dug, the first professor interviewed, we had a plan in place. We were going to create a wedge of intelligence and goodwill designed to split apart the mean-spirited, greedy, and self-destructive world that H. sapiens had created. 

All of the living quarters and most of the college itself is underground. Our son Ethan designed a plan that called for minimally invasive buildings. There are people movers, also underground, taking students and faculty, mothers and fathers back and forth between their homes, classrooms, facilities, and the underground parking garage. So except for the few original buildings that were designed by an H. sapiens architect, and which are quite lovely, the area of the University and the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind still retains its antebellum appearance. Well, except for Andrew's tennis court and our swimming pool.

Because very young children come to New Man U., usually they are accompanied by their mothers, fathers or both. We provide room and board for them, too. And that gives us a nice pool of people to draw on for the University and corporate staff. We offer extremely competitive wages, full health care, and a very nice 401k plan. Our staff doesn't have to drive to work and they can eat for free in the cafeteria. 

On the other hand, we don't need a bursar's office since we don't charge anything. We don't have a recruitment office. Well, there aren't that many applicants to consider, just the current batch of New Men. And if the family situation allows, they all come here. They certainly can't attend any normal school. Where else could they go?

Our only qualification for admission is proof of IQ. In an ecumenical move, we have allowed any person with an IQ above 180 to come to New Man U. That allows for the very upper echelon of H. sapiens to attend as well. 

Oh, have I mentioned who runs the place? That's me: Dr. Donna M. Adkins, PhD., President of New Man University. Who'd a thought it?

The Year 20

Andrew's Story

Someone has to do the administrative work around here. Donnie sits in the President's office and looks official. Dee Dee spends all her time dealing with the family's business interests. That leaves me to do the dirty work. I try to put in four to eight hours a day at New Man U., just handling all the things that have to be handled in the life of a college. Even New Man U. has things that have to be dealt with. 

So I have me an office, a workstation, a laser printer. I feel like I'm back at AWC but have moved up a step in middle-management. I'm not complaining. As I said, someone has to do this shit. Might as well be me.

I have a few administrative assistants under me, figuratively speaking. I'm pretty sure that at least one of them would like it to be more than figurative, if you know what I mean.

Every woman who works at New Man U. is a D-generation twin from the President on down. That's a little freaky. Well they are here anyway supporting their kids. I can't think of many other colleges where the students have their mommies with them. I'm just being a grump. I hate doing all of this paperwork.

So Doris Fleming is one of my Administrative Assistants. I mean, what is it with this job terminology today? She's a fucking secretary! Why don't we just admit it? 

This is one sexy chick. Just about every time she comes in to my office to deliver a paper or pick up something or ask for assistance, she comes around my desk and leans over me. She has left a permanent impression of her tit on my arm. She's always touching me, thanking me for my help with a peck on the cheek or a quick hug. It's driving me nuts.

This girl is one of the youngest of the D-generation. She is in her early thirties. And she looks excellent. I'm not immune to such things, you know. Try having some lovely young thing hanging over you all day long and see how you feel.

I mentioned it to Dee Dee the other day, how Doris is coming on to me. Deirdre just laughed.

She said, "You've still got it, Andrew." 

The woman loves to see me suffer. She knows perfectly well that there is no danger that I'll accept these advances. As a matter of fact, I was deep into Dee Dee when I told her about the way Doris is acting. I was horny. So I went over to the house and asked Dee Dee if she wanted to take some time off from presidenting or whatever the hell it is she does. 

She said, "Andrew, I'm a busy woman. Can't this wait until a more appropriate time?"

I knew she was yanking my chain. She loves to see me suffer. I said, "Deirdre, there will never be a more appropriate time than the present. It's as appropriate as it is ever going to get. It's extremely fucking appropriate! Just put the 'out to lunch' placard on your door and let's go upstairs."

She said, "Sweetie you are so romantic. You just sweep a girl right off of her feet."

I was getting desperate. "Baby, I really need you right now. Come upstairs and I'll tell you about it. But I know I'll be a lot more comfortable discussing it while we are doing our Vulcan Mind Meld thing."

I could see that Dee Dee was pleased with my discomfiture. "Really, Andrew, I can't remember when you were so eager for me. I remember a night back in Cleveland many years ago when you practically raped me. You were so impatient! Sometimes I like that. Oh, well. I suppose the world can wait on my next executive decision. Let's go upstairs, sweetie, and scratch that itch."

I guess I was practically dragging her upstairs. We got in our bedroom and I attacked her. I couldn't help it. Her clothes were flying. My clothes were flying. I picked her up and kissed her as I carried her to the bed. 

Dee Dee is older now, and she requires a little working up to become properly lubricated. But I was ecstatic to note that her juices were already flowing. I've still got it? She's still got it! The woman is fifty-five years old and still loves to make love. I think she really likes to know that she makes me hot.

It's not something that I can hide from them you know. We have this thing between us, Donnie and Dee Dee and me. We feel each other's emotions. It is a gift that Emmy gave us many years ago. We are an open book to each other. 

She's fifty-five and already past menopause. I'm forty-five and still horny. It doesn't matter. She is still the same enthusiastic bed partner; still the soft and lovely girl of my dreams. Age will never wither her beauty; nor slow down her sex drive, apparently, thank goodness.

She lay on the bed with that Mona Lisa smile of hers, her soft round little body still lovely after all these years. She reached out for me and again I answered her siren call. 

This still happens every now and then. I get crazed, I guess. I have to take her, hard. I get this overwhelming feeling of possessiveness or lust, one of those. I know she's mine. Deep in her soul, down at her most primitive, primal level, she belongs to only me and always has. Just as I belong to only her. 

I like the way Doris is throwing herself at me, I'll admit it. It gets my juices flowing, that's for sure. She's a lovely and sexy young woman. Do I look like a eunuch? But once the juices are flowing, I go looking for my wife. 

I rubbed my dick around Deirdre's sexy and soft pussy lips, just to pick up some of her lubrication. Well, hell, it felt damn good too! And then I drove it home. 

Dee Dee's eyes glazed over as she felt the force of my entrance. I couldn't help it; I slammed into her, making her, marking her. She knew that this was going to be one of those fucks. I think she really likes one of those fucks. 

My mouth was suckling her left nipple; my right hand was fondling that wonderful tit of hers. It's like cotton candy or clouds or something. Her breasts are so soft, so light, they practically defy gravity. 

Let me parenthetically note that I've fondled a couple of thousand pairs of tits in my life, and none of them ever turned me on like Dee Dee's. Well, except for Donnie's. They are both the same. I have constant and ready access to the four greatest tits in the world. And if I'm a very good boy, sometimes all four at once. Just lucky, I guess.

I was hammering my cock into her, eliciting moans of arousal and delight from my arousing, delightful wife. I lifted my mouth from her tit and we kissed. Her lips are as soft as the rest of her. We were full circle, my mouth on her lips, my dick buried deeply within her, our souls merged in our dance of love and passion. 

I mean, Doris is one sexy chick and I would be lying if I said she doesn't turn me on. But I've come to expect my sex life to be absolutely perfect. Perfection like that could only be achieved with Deirdre or Donnie. I can accept no substitutes. 

I was having my way with Dee Dee. I guess she was having her way with me too. Our souls were in synch, but in these kinds of fucks, these balls-to-the-wall monkey fucks, our souls played second fiddle to our mutual, seemingly unquenchable, lust. We were humping like two teenagers on their first date.




Death By Fucking Ch. 22



Our lives were centered on the skin-to-skin contact of my dick and her pussy. Nothing else mattered. Our intensity increased as our motions became more frenzied, wilder, more animalistic. She loves me to fuck her this way. I can feel it. Sometimes she likes my easy going nature to become subservient to my implacable need. I think it's reassuring to her to know that after twenty plus years I can still be crazed by my desire for only my wives. No one else will do. 

She brought her knees up until they were almost touching her tits. I drilled deeper within her and she clawed my back with her approval, with her lust. Suddenly she was screaming her completion. I felt the spasming of her cunt and her passion caused me to explode within her. My pumping semen prolonged her climax as her pussy clenched around my dick. We've fucked maybe five or six thousand times in our lives and the next one will still be like the first. She is so sensual, so submissive, so demanding, so Deirdre. My love for her is so deep that I couldn't live without her. 

I just held her for a while, basking in the afterglow, feeling the resurgent shocks passing through my sweet lover's body as it fought to come down from her passionate high. I was still semi-hard so I just stayed inside her. Being inside Deirdre is one of my two favorite places in the world to be.

At first her eyes were closed, her face was in that grimace, that sexual clench she acquires when in the deepest throes of her most intense orgasms. She calls it death by fucking. But I looked again and now she was wearing that beatific smile, the one that makes her look like the most softly contented woman in the world. 

She said, "Thank you, Andrew. That was lovely. I'll have to thank Doris Fleming."

I had to laugh. My wife knows me at the molecular level. I said, "That woman is all over me, Dee Dee. My right arm is familiar with every inch of her left tit. She's always finding some reason to rub against me, giving me little pecks on the cheek, stuff like that."

Deirdre asked, "Is she sexy?"

I said, "Does a cat have an ass?"

She looked confused. "Well, I suppose it does."

I said, "There you go."

Jealousy went out the window in our relationship a long, long time ago. I might have experienced some jealous twinges with Donnie at one time in my life, but other than that we just trust each other. Deirdre and I have known from the beginning that we didn't have room in our hearts for anyone else, we are so full of love for each other. This wasn't a jealousy thing. I could feel that mostly Dee Dee was concerned for Doris.

She said, "Perhaps I should talk to her. We don't want the poor girl to have any false hopes. On the other hand, if she just likes to flirt then my philosophy is: whatever stokes your furnace is okay with me. Is it all right if I tell her that?"

I said, "Just make sure she knows you are Deirdre and not Donnie. Donnie is her boss. You are just the beautiful woman that works next door."

She smiled that smile, the one that ignites her eyes, the one that dazzled me from the moment I met her. She said, "Perhaps I should talk to Donnie first. If it's all right with her maybe we can give Doris one of your 'baby-making' sessions, if you know what I mean. The 'Get Andrew Laid' room has been out of commission for an awfully long time."

"Don't even go there, Dee Dee! You're pulling my chain again. We stopped those years ago and they are going to stay stopped. Just tell the woman that if she throws herself naked on my desk I'll just look at her appreciatively for a moment and then go fuck my wife."

She laughed. Dee Dee loves life like no one I've ever known. "Okay, sweetie. I'll defuse the situation for you, bring Doris down as gently as possible. But if she is just flirting, do you mind if she continues? I kind of like being ravished every now and then."

I said, "Are you kidding? She's a great girl. I love her flirting with me. Just as long as she knows that it won't go anywhere. I mean, she's married too, isn't she? Maybe she just likes to work herself up for her husband."

Dee Dee looked at me askance. She said, "Andrew that's one of the things I love about you. You are so innocent."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Year 30

Deirdre's Story

Sixty-five! We are sixty-five years old. We've been with our sweetheart for thirty years. Where'd they go? It seems that what we do today just fades from my mind, but what we did then is fresh and new. We're getting old.

Not Andrew, of course. He still is a young man by any standards. His hair is starting to thin just a bit, and there are a few touches of gray in his sideburns. But he remains tall, dark and handsome. 

Our Andrew is just about the most famous man in the world. He is the Progenitor. He is loved, he is hated. No one is indifferent to our Andrew. 

He finds it all so amusing, as do I. From his point of view he has done little to deserve this notoriety. He's had sex with a few thousand women who have given birth to thousands of his offspring, who in turn gave birth to tens of thousands of his grandchildren. Is it his fault that every one of them belong to a new species of man? Well, of course it is. That's what we were shooting for from the beginning. But he looks at it more as a lucky coincidence. He refuses to take credit for being the father of a new race.

But New Man University, that was his idea. New Man, Incorporated, that was his idea, too. It is the largest not-for-profit organization in the history of the world. That was Andrew's idea. I believe the man is still fixated on Joanne Woodward. Long ago Paul Newman started making salad dressing and giving the profits to charity. So we have built software. We have out-Microsofted Microsoft. The little program that Eddy and Edie wrote when they were four has become the world's operating system. From the start Andrew insisted that excess profits be given to charity.

At first it was for policemen. We started small. We set up a scholarship fund for the children of all of Georgia's policemen. Any that were accepted to college were eligible at first for free tuition, and then later for a full ride including room and board. As Andrew said, what were we going to do with all of that money? We had our home, our family, our little slice of paradise. Anything more would be obscene. 

As the money just poured in, we expanded state by state. So now the children of any policeman in the United States can go to any college they can qualify for and it will cost them nothing. 

Of course, Andrew's devious mind had a secondary motivation beyond the philanthropy. He knew that as we grew, as New Man had an ever greater impact on society that eventually things would come to a head, either with the government or the religious zealots or both. When that time came, well at least the police would be on our side. Oh boy, were they! But that's a topic for another time.

As New Man U. has expanded over the years to accommodate more and more students, its footprint on the land has hardly changed at all. Our sons have delved deeper and deeper into leading-edge architecture and energy conservation. So now New Man U. is an underground complex big enough to comfortably hold a small city. And yet the local farmers continue to plow their land, hardly noticing the activity going on barely 20 yards beneath their feet. 

I'm afraid that in today's environment of hand-held nuclear devices and first resort terrorism, we've been forced to make New Man U. into a veritable fortress. The witch hunters of the Right consider us to be morally bankrupt, evil, and a danger to them all. Actually they are correct about the third point. Their particular brand of vitriolic hate will never survive in the face of the unrelenting goodness that is New Man. 

The environment disasters that have assaulted the world in the last fifty years continue to leave everyone's future in doubt. Much of the research at the college has been related to alternative energy sources, efficient food growth, anything that can reduce the demands that we must make on the ever dwindling resources of the earth. 

And we are doing everything we can to help Europe and Africa: Europe caught in the throws of a new Ice Age, Africa experiencing the unending drought. Andrew says that we are due for a Malthusian reckoning. He just loves to throw around the word 'Malthusian'. But I hope he's wrong.

I'm afraid that our sexual lives have slowed a bit over recent years. Andrew remains Andrew, always ready and eager. He still finds us irresistible. But Donnie and I have been forced to slow down. Goodness, we are sixty-five years old! We've decided the best way to go is to alternate. Donnie will have her turn, there will be a day of rest. I'll have my turn followed by another day of rest. It's certainly less spontaneous, but it is still wonderful. Now each of us only does it about twice a week. Which means Andrew is getting laid four times a week. That's not bad for a fifty-five year old man, is it? From what I understand, that's not bad for a twenty-five year old man.

Many years ago Emma joined our souls together. We call it interactive love. So even if only one of us is joined with Andrew at a time, the other still shares the emotional attachment. So our sexual and romantic lives remain full. It's just that we are no longer at full throttle as we once were.

And we don't have as many of what Andrew refers to as 'monkey fucks'. The world thinks of him as such a suave and sophisticated man, but Donnie and I know the truth. Sometimes I think he is still a teenager. But no, he doesn't ravish us like he used to. It's to protect us. He's a sweet and sensitive lover. He fears hurting us. We're small boned, and osteoporosis is a real concern. 

Goodness me, our memories are fading, our bodies are falling apart, and still we're getting laid twice a week. If that doesn't keep us young, nothing will. 

 For those of you who have been following Death by Fucking from the beginning, you may have wondered what Deirdre and Donnie Adkins look like. A helpful reader has gotten hold of a picture of them as they were in their twenty's. I'd be glad to email a copy of it to anyone who may be interested. All you need do is ask.



Death By Fucking Ch. 23



We have begun to corral asteroids and bring them back to Earth's proximity for easy harvesting. But except for small permanent stations on the moon and on Mars, mankind is still confined to Earth. 

Well, we've done what we can, Andrew and Donnie and I. It's our children who are making these advances. Andrew wanted to wait until mankind has escaped the solar system, but I just can't wait anymore. I'm too old and too tired. And I miss Donnie so much.

I've been eating voraciously (as far as I'm concerned), but still my weight has been dropping. I'm down to one hundred pounds, and our doctor is worried. Let's be frank. What tits I had (and they weren't much) are pretty much gone now. The alphabet hasn't been designed to measure the size of my cup. Is there a minus A? I'm eighty-eight years old. One isn't expected to have tits at eighty-eight.

But still Andrew likes to fondle me there. I still have nipples. They are still responsive to his gentle touch. 

Tonight. We prepared ourselves for bed as always. We've always slept sans clothing, if you know what I mean. We are warm in each other's arms. So preparation included removing our clothing, performing our evening ablutions, and sliding into bed. We have a big four poster, big enough to be comfortable for three. Sadly there are now only two of us. Andrew's mother spent her later years making quilts and we always use at least one. 

Andrew was lying in bed when I crawled in beside him. I flowed into his arms as always and said, "Sweetheart, make love to me tonight."

His eyes seemed to be watering. He said, "Are you sure, Dee Dee? We can just cuddle if you would like."

But I was adamant. "I need you inside me, Andrew. I need our connection to be complete. Please, sweetie. Take me like in the old days. Make me your woman again."

Andrew reached into our nightstand and pulled out some lubricant. I'm sorry, but I'm not the hot young thing I used to be. I still respond, still love to be filled with Andrew. But I need a little help getting ready. I'm a hot old thing.

Andrew said, "Should I use a rubber?"

I hit him on his shoulder. "Very funny. I could probably conceive, but I'll bet you are shooting blanks, you old fart."

He took me in his arms and we kissed. We kissed that kiss of promise and love, of affection and passion that has always signaled the beginning of our lovemaking. His hands were working their way around my body, feeling the places that perhaps aren't as curvy as they were not so long ago.

Still I could feel my body react, my fires begin to light. His gentle touch always finds my erogenous zones. I think that wherever my sweetie touches becomes an erogenous zone. His hands are magic. His tennis player's fingers work their spell on my body.

Our loving kiss became one of increasing passion. My hand slipped around his manhood and as always it responded. It grew in my hand until my grip couldn't contain its whole girth.

I whispered to him, "Andrew if your dick breeds true, the Viagra people are going to go out of business."

He laughed. It's so good to hear him laugh again. He said, "Yes, I was blessed with that talent. Around you I can always get it up. You are my goddess. Dee Dee you are perpetually arousing. If I tell you every day of your life it will never be enough. You are so alluring, so beautiful, so sensual. I love you, baby."

I'm an eighty-eight year old woman and he thinks I'm beautiful! Andrew always has seen me with his heart. I am beautiful. I know it because Andrew believes it. He makes me feel wonderful.

I felt the head of his cock rubbing against my pussy. I was lubricating on my own, but the additional lubrication that Andrew had used was making things even better. I felt his head insinuate itself between my lips. He barely stuck the head in, rubbed it around, then pulled out again. He was playing with me. I moaned with the pleasure of it.

"Do it! Stick it in, Andrew. Don't make me wait. I need you, sweetie."

Andrew smiled. "I love to hear you beg, Dee Dee. I know it's sadistic of me. But to have the most beautiful creature on earth want me so much. It's a real ego trip."

I couldn't help it. I was hot and ready and needy. "Then please. Fuck me. Oh, God Andrew, stop teasing me. Haven't you teased me enough for one lifetime? Give it to me!"

He relented. I felt that huge member force its way into my small warm pussy. I think I screamed on the way in. It felt so good. I needed it so bad. My man was loving me.

I had enough presence of mind to say just one more time, "I love you, Andrew. You are my heart."

Then my mind was gone. His engorged penis was pounding in me again. I felt mini-orgasms come and go, continuing to build to the Big One. Andrew was making me his own, one more time. I belong to him, only him, forever and always.

I whispered into his ear, "Come with me, sweetie. Come with me." 

And then I was no longer whispering, I was shouting. "Come with me, Andrew. Come with me, lover. I love you!"

The orgasm built and built, climax within climax. Oneness! Everything was oneness! Bright light flashed in my eyes, in my mind. Then all was darkness.

Emma's Story

We all knew. Hundreds of thousands of people around the world felt it at the same time. I was in the 'Get Andrew Laid' room. I was visiting again because I felt what was happening, what was going to happen. 

I let them have their privacy, such as it was. In our family privacy was never a big issue, since it was almost impossible to achieve. Daddy would shrug his shoulders and hope for the best. We kids turned out all right, I think. All of us have strong bonds with our significant others. 

We learned from the best. We watched the strongest marriage on Earth. We know what it takes to make a strong marriage. It takes total commitment, complete openness, and tons and tons of communication. It takes hard work. My parents were never afraid of hard work, especially when it came to relationships.

When a person defines himself by a marriage, I guess it is impossible to see how he could survive without it, especially a marriage so strong, so loving, so emotionally intertwined. I wish my Daddy could have lived forever. He may not have been the greatest man that ever lived. He was only the greatest one that I know of.

But he couldn't live without Momma Dee Dee. It would never occur to him. The two of them barely survived without Momma Donnie. When it was Momma Dee Dee's time to go, Daddy just had to go with her.

I guess I've been crying all night. They both lived such full lives. They were so happy, so loving. With them as parents, we New Men were able to soar from the beginning. 

They gave my sister a significant part of their life's savings when she was four years old and told her to learn how to make money. They gave Edie and Eddie everything they needed to become the great scientists they were destined to be. 

And me. Daddy let me surf and hack. He never came down on me, no matter how outrageously I acted. Perhaps I was a bit out of control as a young girl, but I sure had fun. If he thought I was going too far he would gently pull me back from the precipice. 

And now they are gone. My heart is breaking. 

Sitting at the kitchen table and picking at a bowl of cereal I pulled up the virtual monitor to display The World Today, the on-line newspage. As I suspected, he was the big story.

The story read: "The Progenitor is dead. Andrew Adkins, progenitor of New Man, founder of New Man University and New Man Incorporated died last night of apparent heart failure. Coincidentally, his wife, Deirdre Adkins died of heart failure as well. Deirdre Adkins, PhD, had been Chief Executive Officer of New Man, Inc. It is believed that Mrs. Adkins succumbed first, and the shock caused Mr. Adkins to die as well."

Andrew Adkins, one of the giants of the twenty-first century, will continue to influence the world for decades to come through his many, many children. He has fathered Nobel Prize winners and Presidents, philosophers and scientists. Andrew Adkins may be the last great Homo sapien."

Heart failure? It wasn't heart failure. Daddy turned himself off. I guess you'd call it suicide, but it wasn't really. He looked at himself as part of a whole. The part couldn't go on without the whole now could it?

The newspage got it all wrong. I know my parents. Their hearts could never fail. They died like they lived. It was death by fucking.