It was a warm, sunny Saturday in April, the first we�d had after a wet, chilly spring and an absolutely miserable winter. I�d looked up the forecast that morning, stared out the kitchen window at the increasing blue of the sky as my coffee perked, and instantly decided to take the day off from the novel on which I was presently laboring. Maybe Sunday, too.

Cup in hand, I stood at the railing of the back deck, surveying my kingdom, such as it was, and made mental notes of the various reclamation projects that were needed in the garden and the yard. The life I live is mostly of the mind, but after being stuck indoors for most of the past four months, I was actually looking forward to a period of horticultural labor. I owed Granddad that as well as myself.

I have a very nice, rather too large house in a good part of town, not far from the university where my grandfather was a professor and department head for nearly four decades. My parents had moved two states away for Dad�s work, and when I went off to college, Granddad had insisted — had, in fact, taken it for granted — that I would come and occupy one of his several extra bedrooms while I was in school. He�d been a widower for years and he shared the place only with his cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Aucoin. And, since I was the only child of two only children, I was the only near relative the old man had.

We got along great, too, each of us possessing a good sense of when the other would welcome company and when solitude was preferred. We had long, long conversations about everything in the world and I learned at least as much from him as I did in my classes.

Granddad was a noted economist who was often brought in as a financial consultant and was always being named to boards and government committees. He�d written several important books and had the awards and prizes to prove it, and he just laughed when I sheepishly confessed one day that I had only understood about half of the two of them I had attempted to read. He knew my interests and talents lay in other directions and he assured me he had no objections to an English major in the family.

Still, Granddad had amassed a modest fortune during his career and, since I would eventually inherit most of it, he insisted I learn something about the care and feeding of money. And I certainly couldn�t object to that. Money isn�t everything, I know, but poverty isn�t anything.

Then, during the spring of my senior year, the plane on which my parents were traveling to Peru on a Machu Picchu vacation crashed with heavy loss of life, and I was suddenly an orphan. There was plenty of insurance as well as a rather large settlement from the airline, so I would have no financial worries for some time to come.

I graduated, and had my shiny new diploma framed, and then I looked around and considered my options. I was going to be an author, I already knew that much. A writer of fiction. Or I would attempt to be, anyway. I had been thinking about the sort of career I could take on that would allow me time to pursue the muse on the side. Preferably something that involved moving words around because I knew I was good at that. Magazine journalism, maybe. Advertising? I knew I would be moving out of Granddad�s house, though. I�d imposed on him long enough.

Except that when I explained all of this to him over coffee in his study one evening, he gave me a grave look and said he had something to tell me, too.

Cancer is a bitch but at least the variety he had developed wasn�t the lingering type, and when the old man died that fall, he wasn�t in excruciating pain. I�m not ashamed to admit that I wept a good deal the day of the funeral. Granddad was a good man and a terrific family. And all that year�s unpleasant events had left me very well provided for, including title to that big house. Absolutely not the method I would have chosen for financial independence, but the universe didn�t consult me.

So, at the age of twenty-one, I had a big house and a bigger bank account and basically the freedom to do whatever the hell I wanted with my life. I didn�t have to collect a paycheck to pay a mortgage and buy groceries. I was unencumbered. Even Mrs. Aucoin had retired to sunnier climes with the substantial legacy Granddad had left her.

So I took a deep breath and embarked on a literary career. My first novel, the result of sweating large droplets of blood for eight months, found a publisher rather quickly, to my surprise, and got decent reviews. Could I do it again? Yes, it turned out I could.

Thirteen years later, I was four novels and a dozen short stories ahead of the game, had become a regular contributor of book reviews to a couple of well-regarded literary publications, and had recently received an invitation to join the faculty of one of the better-known annual writers� workshops. I was pretty happy with the way my life was going.

And now, inspecting the eroded state of last autumn�s mulch and the ragged shrubbery and the patches of invading crabgrass, I was about to embark on the annual restoration and rehabilitation of my inheritance.

I made a trip to the garden center, got out the wheelbarrow and the rake and the shears, then spent the morning working up a pleasant sweat. As noon approached, I was standing back, gloved hands on hips, inspecting what I had accomplished so far and planning my afternoon, when I heard the tinkle of young female laughter from next door.

This whole strip of homes is most of the way up a hillside and there�s a bluff behind the property, which gives my back yard privacy. I�m also the second lot from the end of the cul de sac. Between me and the circular turn-around is a somewhat smaller but still very nice house that a divorced woman and her two daughters had moved into a couple years before. I was the only neighbor they had so I had long since made myself known to them.

The woman, Stacy Kenner, was nice and friendly enough, but she was deeply involved in pursuing her executive career and didn�t have much time for (or interest in) non-business-related socializing. The girls, Taylor and Quinn, who were now about sixteen and fifteen, were seldom in evidence, either, being outgoing and social enough for an entire platoon of teenagers.

My six-foot wooden fence is about nose-high on me, so I was able to indulge my curiosity without actually having to stand on something. The two girls were busy arranging a couple of fold-up aluminum chaise-longues at the best angle for the sun. That they meant to soak up some Vitamin D was made obvious by their startlingly abbreviated bikinis, Chinese red for Taylor and Day-Glo pink for Quinn. I stood there for a moment, admiring all that young, still-pale skin. Then I sighed and went back to spreading mulch.

I wasn�t making an undue amount of noise, but my young neighbors must have heard something, because I shortly heard a young female voice calling "Mr. Hale?" I looked up to see Quinn�s cheerful grin above the fence. I got up and went over and discovered that she was sitting on her sister�s shoulders, since both of them were at least a head shorter than me.

"Ladies," I said, "nice to see you survived the winter."

"We thought we�d never see the sun again! We got really tired of Gore-Tex and raincoats!" No kidding, I thought, trying not to stare too obviously at Quinn�s barely constrained breasts. They weren�t large but they were certainly prominent, thanks to the architecture of her outfit.

"We�ve been watching you working away out here all morning," she went on, with a glance over her shoulder at the upper story of her house. Ah. Bedroom windows, I realized. "We made up a big jug of lemonade before we came out. Would you like some? There�s chicken salad sandwiches, too. You must be due for a break by now."

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing only some ragged cutoffs and slip-on tennies, my tee-shirt having been abandoned an hour ago.

Quinn followed my gaze. "That�s okay, Mr. Hale — just come over as you are. You�ve still got more clothes on than I have right now," she added with an impish purr.

Oh-kay. I like lemonade and chicken salad. I also like pretty young girls in skimpy bathing attire. I went out through the side gate that gave access to the front yard and then in through their matching gate three feet away. By the time I had crossed to their shaded back porch, where they had assembled their lunch and drinks, Taylor had poured me a big plastic cup. Ah, that was good! I was thirstier than I had realized.

"Are you working on a new book, Mr. Hale?" Taylor asked. Of course they knew I was a writer. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that.

"Sure am," I told her. " A sequel to the last one, actually."

"Oh! The one about the family going west on the Oregon Trail?" Quinn chimed in. "I loved that! Now I can�t wait till you finish the new one!"

That surprised me a little. I hadn�t thought about kids reading my books. "You liked it, huh? I�m pleased to hear that."

"Oh, yes. I read a lot of historicals. I like the way you do descriptions — it�s like making an oil painting. It�s exciting. And you have some deeper things in there, too."

Little Quinn might be a giggly teenybopper on the outside but she apparently had a brain as well. Teach me to judge a book by its cover, I thought. But there was a question I decided I needed to ask.

"So, is your mom around today? I haven�t seen her in awhile."

Taylor glanced at her sister. "Nope. She�s at some kind of retreat this weekend. Team-building or something. Kids aren�t welcome — which is fine with us, actually. �Cause it sounds really boring." It was interesting that her voice was nearly an octave lower than her younger sister�s. I wondered if that was natural or whether she was trying to sound more adult.

"So, . . . you�re here all by yourselves?"

"Sure. We can look after ourselves just fine, Mr. Hale."

"Oh, I�m sure you can," I responded hastily. "Just, you know, if anything comes up, you know where to find me." The sisters smiled at each other. I wondered what that meant.

Then Taylor asked if I had a girlfriend. Probably the sort of thing, I assumed, that any teenage girl would wonder about a still-youngish guy who, let�s face it, wasn�t that bad looking. So I explained that I dated occasionally but no, there was no serious relationship in my life. I was just too busy. They exchanged a look again.

So we stood there drinking lemonade and eating sandwiches and chatting about writing and yard work and high school for a half-hour, and then I set down my empty cup and prepared to return to my side of the fence. The girls had other ideas, though.

"We can�t let you go yet, Mr. Hale," Quinn insisted, wrapping her arm around mine. "A famous author, right next door, and we hardly know you at all." Now she was lightly stroking my arm with a smooth little hand. Taylor moved up and took my other arm, and placed her palm on my bare chest. Alarm bells began going off in my brain.

"Um," I objected.

Quinn smiled up at me and actually batted her eyes. "Mr. Hale, . . . have you ever had groupies? You know, those girls who want to do it with rock stars just because they�re famous?"

My throat was dry. "No, of course not."

"Really?" Taylor raised her eyebrows at me. "That�s kind of surprising. Especially when you�re so good-looking and everything." She leaned forward, stuck out a little pink tongue, and licked a patch of salty sweat off my chest. I was beginning to panic.

"Look, girls, I don�t think---" Quinn put a slender finger against my lips.

"Come over here, Mr. Hale." And the two of them steered me away from the porch and over near the lounges, where Taylor adroitly flipped out a big beach towel and spread it on the grass. Then they physically pulled me down until I was lying on my back.

I mean, yeah, I could have fought them off. I was nearly a foot taller and half again the weight of either of them. But I couldn�t seem to dredge up the willpower to resist. When two cute, sexy young girls start laying hands on you, giving you heated looks and saying provocative things, . . . well, you�d have to be gay or a priest to resist.

Then Taylor knelt beside me. "I�ll bet you�ve done this before," she murmured. "Even if you don�t have a regular girlfriend, you must have all kinds of experience." And she pulled the strings at both sides of her bikini bottom and the wisp of fabric floated to the grass.

Before I could say anything, she swung over and planted a knee on either side of my head, her bare pussy directly above my face. She spread her knees until the moist warmth made contact with my lips. "Lick me, Mr. Hale" she whispered.

She smelled lovely and I didn�t stop to consider what I was doing. I just pushed my tongue up between those soft, narrow lips and lapped up the sweetness.

Taylor shivered and said "Oh, God . . ." in a breathy voice. I lifted my hands and filled them with the smooth, muscular globes of her ass. I squeezed and pressed her crotch harder against my mouth. I swabbed my tongue up and down her pussy and sucked at her rigid clit while she humped herself against my face and moaned. Somewhere along the way, I found she had lost her top, too, and was massaging her small breasts and pinching her nipples.

I became aware that Quinn was watching us avidly from somewhere behind my head. There was a drawn-out "Wow. . . ," and then she moved out of sight. A moment later, there were fingers fumbling at my waist, unbuttoning my shorts and then hastily pulling them and my briefs down my legs. When the hand gripped my straining erection and began squeezing it and tugging it, it was my turn to moan.

After a morning�s sweaty labor, I hated to think what my crotch must smell like, but that didn�t dissuade Quinn for an instant. After she had stroked my cock for a minute or two, I felt the warm wetness of her mouth surround the head. She sucked and licked like she�d done it for years, not like the novice I assumed she must be. But it felt wonderful.

Quinn�s attention to my cock was pushing me to even greater efforts with her older sister. I could feel the trembling tension growing in her thigh muscles and the jerkiness with which she tried to push her clit down my throat. It wasn�t long before she reached down and clutched at my chest with both hands to steady herself as the climax roared through her. Then she sagged, gulping and panting, and nearly smothered me.

Taylor�s orgasm was a new experience for me. I�d never before made a girl come while she sat on my face. I hadn�t had a sexual encounter with a girl this young, either, not since I was in high school myself.

The result of all that was to push me over the edge right behind her. Quinn had shoved the end of my penis against the back of her throat and I didn�t have a chance to warn her — I wasn�t sure I could remember my own name just then — so I blasted my load of semen straight into her stomach. I felt her jerk with the shock of it, but she kept my cock in her mouth and she didn�t cough or choke.

Several more eruptions that diminished in amplitude, and I was panting for breath, too. A moment later, Quinn crawled back into view. "Yum," she grinned and licked her lips dramatically.

"Quinn! Did you suck Mr. Hale�s dick? You didn�t even ask permission!" Taylor�s fake look of shock sent her sister into a fit of giggles.

"And I suppose you didn�t just come in his mouth?" she responded. "Fair�s fair!" I hadn�t considered it in that light and I laughed as much as they did.

Taylor rolled off and curled up against me on one side while Quinn moved up on the other. She glanced at our naked bodies and said, "Hey, wait for me." It took her five seconds to get rid of her own bikini. Her body was as smooth and untarnished as her sister�s, just slightly less developed. She watched me running my eyes over her and smiled knowingly. "Can you make me come, too?" she asked and settled on her back.

I turned on my side so I could reach her and Taylor sat up and leaned over my back where she could observe. I spread my hand across the younger girl�s shallow breast and she arched her back against it. My hand floated down across her ribs and stomach and she purred quietly. Taylor was slowly stroking my own back and caressing my ass. My fingertips reached the top of Quinn�s small, bare slit and her thighs parted. When my middle finger slipped inside her, her head pushed back against the beach towel and she moaned softly.

God, I wanted so much to fuck this young girl. Even having just come, I realized I hadn�t been so horny in years. And I must have said it out loud because Taylor squeezed my arm.

"Sorry, Mr. Hale, but we can�t do that. We�re both virgins and it has to stay that way for a while yet." I nodded my understanding and concentrated on strumming Quinn�s clit and running my fingers up and down her pussy. Then, just as she was reaching her peak, and without really thinking about what I was doing, I bent and kissed her on the lips.

Her eyes snapped open for an instant in startlement, but then she wrapped her arms around my head and kissed me back, hard. Her little tongue slipped into my mouth and I sucked on it. That was all it took to launch her into an unbridled, shaking orgasm. Her hips bucked against my probing fingers and her knees trembled and her toes curled. She nearly pulled my head off, she was clutching it so tightly. Taylor had slipped her own hand over my hip and had a tight but not-quite-painful grip on my penis.

It took the three of us a few minutes to float back down to Earth. Taylor loosened her hold but didn�t release my dick. Quinn was staring up at me with an unfathomable expression as she wiped the tears from her eyes. I was wondering silently why I didn�t feel any guilt about everything that had happened. Perhaps because I hadn�t been the instigator.

I glanced at the sun. The afternoon was winding down. I didn�t have the strength left to finish my yard work, but there was always tomorrow. "Girls," I said thoughtfully, "you�re absolutely sure your mother�s gone for the entire weekend?"

"Yep," Taylor said with a grin. "It�s just us until dinnertime Sunday. Why? Whatever did you have in mind, Mr. Hale?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that you shouldn�t be left alone all night. For your own protection." Taylor smiled and Quinn snorted.

They traded looks and I could see them thinking about it. Considering the possibilities. And, no doubt, the risks.

Quinn plucked at a blade of grass. "Were you thinking about staying here? Or. . . ?"

"I have a king-size bed," I said. Another look exchanged.

Taylor tapped a fingertip against her chin. "So, . . . we would come over for the evening, and then spend the night with you, and come back here in the morning?"

"Something like that."

"And you wouldn�t try to, um, make us do anything we didn�t want to do?"

I smiled at her. "Think about it for a minute, sweetheart. You�re minors. There�s two of you and one of me. Who�s really making the decisions here?"

She nodded slowly. "Quinn," she said, "you�d better go and fetch us both some clothes. We don�t want anyone to see us going into Mr. Hale�s house naked."

Even with their clothes on — shorts, tee-shirts, and sandals for each of them — the girls were good company. We made a pot of spaghetti Bolognese and some garlic bread, and I had red wine while they stuck to Dr. Pepper. The conversation, if not actually sparkling, was a lot of fun. They had lots of questions about the writing life and I did my best to satisfy them.

After piling everything in the dishwasher, we watched a recorded episode of Sherlock and I regaled them with some interesting facts about Conan Doyle. And they explored the house a little and I told them about my grandfather and how I had come into my inheritance. And as we came to the end of the evening, the tension among us imperceptibly mounted.

Frankly, I was prepared to just drift off to sleep with a warm young girl tucked up on either side of me. If that was all that happened, I�d be happy. I�d already had an amazing day. But if the sisters got adventurous, I intended to follow their lead. I didn�t want to scare them off, so they were calling the shots. I was aware, though, that with their relative lack of experience with guys — especially older guys — they might be nervous about the night ahead.

First things first, however. After all that exertion in the yard, and then in the other yard, I was definitely in need of a shower. I explained my intention to my young guests and they glanced at each other.

"Okay, . . ." Taylor said.

"Perhaps you young ladies would care to join me? Nothing personal, but I think we all need a scrubbing before bedtime."

Quinn raised both eyebrows. "You want us to all take a shower together? Won�t that be kind of crowded?"

I grinned. "You haven�t seen my shower." And I crooked a finger and led them upstairs to view the Great Hale Shower Extravaganza.

I�ve always been a sybarite when it comes to bathing. A few years ago, when I got the publisher�s advance for my third novel, I celebrated by having a crew come in and spend a week converting the smallest of the spare bedrooms into a large, high-tech bathroom. The dream shower I had them install was big enough to jitterbug in, with a dozen fully adjustable nozzles and jets set at different angles and an oversized rain-shower head in the ceiling. Everything had independent controls, so I could have a quick, simple eye-opener or I could go all-out and wallow in luxurious, pulsating wetness. A really good shower is my one great weakness.

The girls� reaction when they entered the bathroom was predictable: "Wow!" and huge eyes. I pointed out the heated tile floor and the heated towel rack. They grinned in anticipation. All of us were naked again in thirty seconds.

I set the master temperature control nearly all the way up and when I switched on the entire panoply of jets and sprays, there was a good deal of squealing and splashing. Watching my two young guests, naked and sleek and dancing around with the steaming water coursing over their supple bodies, made me feel at least a decade younger.

I got the peppermint-flavored bodywash from the shelf and both of them instantly held out cupped hands. I assumed they would spread it over themselves but instead, each girl turned to her sibling and began lathering her up. Watching them moving their hands across each other�s bodies was an erotic vision. I put a hand in the small of each girl�s back and urged them even closer together. Quinn shot me a knowing smile. Then they were wrapped in each other�s arms, pressing their bodies tightly together, rubbing their breasts against each other, grinding their pelvises together. Then they began kissing, tongues dueling while their eyes closed.

My cock was already three-quarters erect and I wanted very badly to shove it deep into one of those young bodies — but I knew I couldn�t. Extremely frustrating. Instead, I put my arms around both of them and pulled them close. And then I let each hand slip down a smooth, slender back to a small firm ass, and I pressed a middle finger against each tight little asshole.

Both girls jerked once at the invasion when the first joint of my finger slipped inside her, and Taylor gave me a single wide-eyed glance, but they resumed their kiss even more ardently.

"You�ve done this before," I observed.

"Only the kissing, in bed sometimes," Taylor murmured. "Never in the shower. Mom would notice if we started taking showers together."

"And never with a guy finger-fucking me, either," Quinn added. "Especially there!" She writhed a little and wiggled her ass. "That�s a strange feeling, but it�s exciting." I believe hormones are one of the great forces of Nature, more powerful than gravity.

They separated eventually and I used my fingers, now buried to the second knuckle, to angle them toward me and bring them close. Each girls pressed herself against me, hooking a leg behind mine and stroking my calf with the sole of her foot. Taylor dragged her tongue slowly up my throat while Quinn began sucking my nipple. Despite the steam and the hot water pounding on my shoulders, the attention was giving me chills.

My penis was absolutely rigid by this time and when one girl wrapped her fingers around the shaft and squeezed while the other did the same with my balls, I thought for a moment I might faint. I couldn�t suppress a low anguished moan, either. I was right on the verge of coming and having to watch while my sperm swim down the drain. What a waste.

Taylor sized up the situation immediately. "Poor Mr. Hale," she murmured, and knelt on the tile at my feet. She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled up expectantly. Quinn, holding my erection, pointed it at her sister, presumably so she could take it in her mouth, but I simply couldn�t wait the extra two seconds. A sticky white geyser erupted across the older girl�s face, covering her cheeks, gluing her lashes together, dripping off the tip of her nose. She jerked a little when the spasm hit and closed her eyes, but she stayed put and accepted my unexpected gift. Quinn just giggled and aimed me like a fire hose.

When I was empty, I helped Taylor to her feet, took her in my arms, and kissed her as thoroughly as I could. She sank into it and when our lips finally parted, she gave a deep sigh.

"Can I have one of those, too, Mr. Hale?" Quinn asked a bit plaintively. Taylor stepped back with a smile and turned her face up to one of the jets. The younger girl took her place and I wrapped my arms around her. She hooked both arms around my neck and her lips parted. I didn�t know how much experience she had but I wanted this one to be memorable so I gave it my very best.

I ran my tongue along behind her upper lip and then pushed it into her mouth as far as I could. I could hear little animal sounds coming from her throat, which made it even more exciting. And when we came up for air, little Quinn had to cling to me to keep from falling.

The remainder of our shower together was more pragmatic. We soaped each other thoroughly and rotated under the jets to sluice it all off. I opened the big glass door and handed each of them a thick towel from the stack I had ready. We dried ourselves and each other and many touches and strokes were exchanged in the process.

It was after ten and we had all pretty much worn each other out, so w didn�t even bother to dress again. We just went next door to the master bedroom and slipped under the covers, with me in the middle and a warm, slender young female body snuggled up on each side. It was the coziest I had been in a long time. We were all asleep within minutes.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I eased awake, not knowing what had brought me out of my slumber. Taylor had turned on her side, back pressed against my ribs, and was snoring softly. I looked the other way. Quinn had the light cover pushed down to her thighs and the fingers of one hand were busy stroking her clit. Her eyes were still shut but her mouth was open and she was making little back-arching motions.

I just lay there a moment, watching her silently masturbate. It was an intensely erotic sight, since she didn�t know she was being observed. I touched her hip with a fingertip and her eyes popped open. She caught her breath and swallowed.

"I can�t believe I�m still so horny," she whispered. Her fingers were still massaging her clit. Then her free hand reached out and gripped my penis through the sheet. "I can�t help it. I really, really want to fuck you, Mr. Hale."

I covered her hand with my own, feeling the continuing motion of her fingers beneath it. "Oh, God," she murmured. "You just touching my hand like that makes me want to come. Please, Mr. Hale. . . ."

I had resisted the temptation several times already, but the pleading tone in her voice and the heated and slightly desperate look on her face was more than I could handle. With a glance at Taylor, I got my legs out from under the covers and crossed above Quinn to get to the side of the bed. My cock was getting hard again and she stared at it hungrily as I passed.

As I was digging a condom out of the bottom drawer of the bedside table, Taylor propped herself up on her elbows, breasts jiggling interestingly. "What�s happening?" she asked sleepily. Then she saw me unwrapping the foil disk and came more fully awake. "Hey. . . . Quinn? What. . . ?"

"It�s my choice," the younger girl said adamantly. "Just stay out of it." She scooted back against the pillow a little, pulled her knees back, and spread them far apart. The moisture in her bare pussy glinted in the moonlight from the window.

Taylor blinked and looked at me rolling the sheath down over my erection, then her eyes widened and she looked back at her sister. "Quinn, you can�t---"

"Stop it, Taylor. I need to be fucked. I need it really bad, and I need it right now. And Mr. Hale is the right guy to do it. He knows what he�s doing and he won�t hurt me. I trust him." Her sister�s mouth opened, then shut again. It appeared she was just going to watch, which was fine with me. How could I complain about screwing one cute girl in front of another cute girl?

If I had been planning this as a seduction, I would have included a lot of foreplay, to set the scene and get everyone in the mood. Little Quinn was way beyond the need for foreplay, though. Her fifteen-year-old furnace was already so stoked, she was about to set fire to the bed.

I knee-walked up to her waiting cunt, took my cock in hand, and brushed it up and down the length of her pussy a few times, spreading her labia apart. She moaned and humped her crotch upwards. I glanced over at Taylor. The older girl was becoming hypnotized, lips parted, eyes fixed between her sister�s slender thighs. And I just leaned forward and slid right in.

Quinn sucked in a deep, shaky breath and jammed her head back against the pillow. She was obviously feeling no pain and I assumed that various other objects had probably filled her cunt even if this was her first dick. I pushed slowly forward until I could feel myself bump against her cervix. Then I pulled back nearly all the way and thrust forward again. I did this several more times, carefully speeding up a little each time, until Quinn was panting and moaning and gasping as she was rocked backward and forward. Her sister seemed to have forgotten to breathe.

I hadn�t had sex with anyone in a couple of months, and then it had been with a woman my own age. I mean, it was good sex — I�m not sure there�s such a thing as "bad sex" — but the lady in question had been doing it as long as I had. There were no surprises and I knew she felt the need of several trips to the gym each week to keep herself up to standard. Quinn was young and athletic, naturally taut and tight, and it was all a new experience to her. She didn�t have to pretend to be excited just to keep me interested.

Her knees were pressed against her breasts now and every time I thrust a little harder and a little faster, she climbed a step higher, until she was balanced on the precipice, eyes screwed shut, a brilliant sexual flush cascading down her torso. The degree to which she was blinded by her own lust was more than enough to keep me focused. Taylor was riveted by the performance, too, and was busily masturbating as she watched.

Finally, I reached down and pinched a rigid pink nipple. Quinn jerked and gasped and then every inch of her began shaking as she was overcome by her orgasm. I don�t think I�ve ever seen any girl come so dramatically.

But I wasn�t quite there myself — and it was a good thing, too, because as Quinn collapsed, Taylor suddenly rolled over onto her back close beside her sister. She lifted her legs and spread her knees and reached toward my cock.

"Me, too!" She licked her lips and spread her labia with her fingers. "Fuck me, too, Mr. Hale!"

I glanced at the younger girl�s face. Quinn glanced sideways at her sister and grinned. I withdrew from her cunt and quickly moved over to the new venue. I slid easily into Taylor�s cunt, thanks to the lubrication of Quinn�s juices. I wondered if that intimate sharing had occurred to either of them. Doing two girls side by side was certainly a first for me.

Because she had been aroused by watching her sister�s first fuck, and because she had been rubbing her own clit, Taylor wasn�t starting at the very beginning. It was more like I reached out and grabbed her as she roared by, all her engines fully revved up. She was just as snug as Quinn had been, and almost as completely aroused.

I was beginning to get a bit winded by all the exertion and I leaned forward to rest some of my weight on my hands. Taylor instantly wrapped her legs around me and twined her feet together high up behind my back. Something about that gesture was enough to set me off and I slammed into her a couple more times, then came harder than I had in a very long time. My jerking thrusts as I threatened to blow the end out of the condom were enough to set her off, too, and she clung tightly as she matched me spasm for spasm.

After a minute, my arms were trembling so much, I rolled off her before I fell and crushed her. I landed between the two girls, both of whom turned on their sides and threw a leg over me. The sheets were soaked and it was pretty obvious we were all going to need another shower in the morning. I still didn�t know what time it was, but I for one was going to need a little more sleep. I slipped an arm under each overheated body and the three of us were unconscious in less than a minute.

The sun was up when I finally got my eyes open again. Quinn had slipped out of bed and gone around and gotten back in on her sister�s side. Now the two of them were whispering nose to nose. When I stretched my arms out and yawned, they both looked in my direction and there was a cheerful chorus of "Good morning, Mr. Hale!"

I considered all that smooth skin and those slender waists and those four shallow breasts, and wondered if I was physically up for another round. It appeared that even the sisters were temporarily sated, though, because the next things I heard were "I�m starving!" and "Me, too!" and "Last one in the shower�s an old maid!"

We scrubbed each other and while there were lots of caresses and kisses, they didn�t lead to a rematch. I was secretly relieved. My back and leg muscles felt like I had climbed a mountain. Even the girls weren�t quite so frisky this morning.

Breakfast was half a dozen eggs and nearly an entire package of bacon, plus all the juice I had in the fridge and most of a loaf of raisin bread converted into toast. I was going to have to replenish my marmalade supply, too. Then each of my guests disappeared into one of the bathrooms for a bit while I went up and stripped the bed. The room was still so filled with pheromones, it was likely to keep me awake for several nights.

I was wondering when exactly the girls� mother was likely to put in an appearance. They had mentioned "dinnertime," but who knew? Apparently, they were thinking about the same thing. Late in the morning, Taylor and Quinn looked at each, and at me, and then sighed in unison. "Mr. Hale," the older one said, "I think we�re going to have to go back to the real world now. We can feed ourselves lunch and then we both have homework to do before Mom gets home." She paused. "What?"

Because I was grinning broadly. "Do you know how long it�s been since a girl I�ve just had sex with has used homework as an excuse to go home?" Quinn began to giggle and Taylor quickly joined in. "But I understand what you�re saying," I went on. "We should all err on the side of caution today. Maybe your mother�s conference wrapped up early. We don�t want her to come home to an empty house and then discover her daughters next door. That would require too much explaining."

"Yeah," Quinn said. "And I don�t want to tell her I was busy having my cherry popped." Taylor nodded with a smile.

The two of them gathered up their clothing and, after a parting round of kisses, slipped out my back door and ducked into their own back yard. I noted their mother�s van pulling into their drive around 3:00, so it appeared she had made it back a bit earlier than expected. And a little while later, a pizza delivery jeep appeared, so everything appeared to be okay on that front.

I took it easy the rest of that day, neither finishing the aborted yard work — there was always tomorrow — nor getting any writing done. I thought I was going to have to digest this amazing weekend more completely before my creative muscle was ready to resume its work. But that night, just before I turned in, I happened to look out the window in my bedroom and realized that at least one of the girls� bedrooms was directly opposite. There was a light on over there and I stood for a moment and thought about the two of them. Such luscious young things.

And then the blinds were raised and a pair of young hands pushed the sash up. Quinn�s grinning face appeared and motioned for me to do the same. I raised my own window and leaned my elbows on the sill. She glanced back over her shoulder, then returned her attention to me. She looked down, then suddenly raised her shirt and tucked it under her chin so she could cup her breasts and tug her nipples. She held the pose for a minute or so, then slowly lowered the shirt. She waved and I heard a loudly whispered "Good night, Mr. Hale!" Then she blew me a kiss, ducked back inside, and closed the window and the blinds.

Would there ever be a repeat of our little adventure? I had no idea. I suspected the circumstances had been unique and not replicable. That was okay. I wasn�t ever going to forget it. And neither, I was sure, would they.

Copyright 2016 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.