Mi amante miriam con un juguetito

Mi amante miriam con un juguetito
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THE WILSON FAMILY SAGA (PART 4) BY JGE POWERS (FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME: [email protected]) CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN Saturday morning dawned gray and overcast. The air was moist, heavy, and a chill was in the air. As Gordy rode his bike to the park, he crossed his fingers and wished the threatening sky away. At 10 o'clock sharp, he turned into the broad expanse of McArthur Park. It came to him that they hadn't mentioned a specific place, just the 'park'.

He sped up, fearful that he would miss her, but he needn't have worried. As he passed the War Memorial he saw her sitting on a bench by a grove of pine trees. She was lovelier than he remembered. "Hi. I was afraid I'd miss you. We didn't pick a spot." Christine Ritter looked a bit pale. He had no way of knowing that she had been up most of the night, constantly changing her mind about appearing here.

"I thought about that, too," she said quietly. He sat down beside her. "Boy, it's almost like a winter day. So much for California sunshine." She glanced around, seeing the gray skies for the first time. She really hadn't noticed them before. "Aren't you cold?

Would you like my jacket?" "Er, no. Thanks, Gordy. . About today. . I'm not really up to a teaching session. Maybe we can do this another day." "Miss Ritter, I really want to be with you. I mean. .

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I need this time." She looked at his blue eyes; those damn Paul Newman eyes. She could feel them looking straight through her.

"Gordy, this can be very. . ." Before she could finish, the sky opened up and the rain became torrential in moments. "Aw, shit! Sorry." "Oh, God, we're drenched already.

Let's run for it. My place is up the block." She had spoken automatically. "Get on my bike!" "What? "Get on my bike. Hurry. It's quicker." She squealed in horror as he wobbled off, then delight as he rode with abandon through the rain. Christine was aware of his body rubbing against her as he pedalled. She could feel his cock brush her back as he pumped up and down. It felt like fire. Christine gave him a terrycloth robe and pointed towards the bathroom. "Take off those wet clothes or you'll catch your death.

And make sure you dry off good." "Yes, ma'am," he said, smiling. In her bedroom, she stripped off her own clothes, very aware that Gordy was doing the same thing just a few feet away.

Her nipples were hard from the cold. Or was it some voyeuristic excitement? She didn't know which. Surprisingly, she felt more relaxed. The rain had taken the stress out of the situation and as she toweled dry, she was able to fight down the picture of a well-hung young man that kept flitting through her mind. Gordy stripped quickly. He felt like a wet rat, but he was now glad for the rain. Without it, he doubted if he could have convinced his pretty counselor to invite him here. Maybe, he thought, Mother Nature loves lovers.

He put the robe on. It was big. Masculine. The coach's? It didn't matter. Christine came out toweling her hair. It was in beautiful disarray. She wore a floor-length, white terry- cloth robe, the twin to the one he was wearing.

Her skin glowed from the vigorous rubbing. "You made a fire!" she said, truly surprised. "And I took the liberty of pouring you a glass of wine. Here, it'll warm you up." She saw the matching glass in his hand. "Wine? Oh, Gordy. . I can't let you drink. . ." He held up his hand. "Grape juice. From the 'fridge. Doesn't have the warming properties of yours, but well within the bounds of propriety." Chris sank to the pillows on the floor; looked at the fire and the wine glass in her hand and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Gordy. Sometimes, I don't think straight. If you want a glass of wine, go right ahead. God knows, if someone walked in right now, a glass of wine wouldn't even be noticed." "What do you mean?" "Gordy Wilson! Your IQ is near genius! If you walked in and saw a teacher and a student sitting in front of a fire, practically naked, drinking wine, what would you think?" "Oh, that," he said, laughing.

"Well, if the teacher's as lovely as you, I'd think the student was one lucky dude." "How very gallant. Thank you. I'm flattered. But young men are always. . infatuated with their teachers." "Only if they look like you, Chris." The use of her first name was deliberate. "I wouldn't say that about Miss Ulrich." Christine almost choked on her wine. Jane Ulrich was a very dour, homely, and mean spirited Physical Education teacher at St.

Charles. The girls called her the "Wicked Witch of the West". "That's not a very nice thing to say," she said, but she was smiling. "No, it's not. But it's truthful." "Sometimes the truth can hurt." He sat down beside her, and she caught a glimpse of his flaccid prick as his robe parted.

She didn't believe her eyes. It was really as big as those girls had said it was! She took a long gulp of her wine. "Yes, it can hurt, but it's the only thing we have that separates us from the animals. Would you be interested in another truth?" he asked. The conversation was disarming her. He may only be fourteen, she thought, but his mind was as adult as hers, and his body - his body.

. She pushed the thought from her mind. "Gordy, I'm not sure I. . ." "The truth is - I want to make love to you." He had said it. The words hung in the air. She stared at him, unable to form a reply. Her nipples hardened and her stomach muscles contracted. She was acutely aware of her nakedness beneath the robe.

"Gordy. . " she fumbled for the words, ".

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. I mean, I'm flattered, but. . I. . ." Her mind went blank. He reached for her hand; his robe opening as he did. Her eyes fell on the curly pubic hair above his rod. She thought she saw it pulsate.

"This is crazy. I'm twice your age. I'm. . ." "Beautiful is the word you're looking for. And don't quote me 'age'. That's nonsense. Our bodies have been talking to each other since that day in your office. "Fortunately, bodies aren't equipped with human hang- ups, like 'age'. Need is just need." She felt the gentle pressure of his hand bringing her to him. Too much wine, she thought. She was close enough to smell his rain damp hair.

Her mind yelled at her: Pull back! Fight! Pull back now or you never will. His lips were soft. His tongue slipped easily between her lips and began exploring her warm, moist mouth. Her stomach muscles relaxed. She felt her pent up pussyjuice begin to flow. He stared at her with those piercing blue eyes. "Damn you," she said, "damn you!" And she pulled him to her. Hard. CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT He had a feather-light touch.

She had never had her pussy eaten like this before. Almost to the edge, then back again. Always on the brink. Pleasure devoured her. Gordy shoved his face deeply into Chris' thick muff. Saliva dribbled down her pussy crack and into her ass.

Her body was even better than he had imagined: strong, lithe, supple. Her legs were a vice around his head. He was suffocating, but no way was he about to stop. He kneaded her firm ass, and her full tits; his hands roaming at will - seeking. Finding. She made little purring noises as he slurped out her rich cunt cream. He kept her on the very edge of climax; making sure, that when she did cum, it would be awesome. It took a moment for her voice to filter through to him. "Please, Gordy, please.

. turn around. Let me suck your cock." She heard her own voice, but the words surprised her. Gordy turned, and straddled her; his tongue never leaving her cunt, always fluttering, and positioned his rigid pole above her. It looked enormous. It was enormous! It was also beautiful. The most beautiful cock she had ever seen! She grasped it with both hands and stroked it back and forth, felt its texture, its strength. Slowly, almost lovingly, she slipped the head between her lips.

It tasted tangy and the aroma was overpowering. With a strangled moan, she grabbed his ass and pulled him forward. The beautiful fuck-pole sank deep into her throat. She gagged, but she paid it no heed. His shaft came up, and she dragged her teeth across the soft underside, sending a tremor up and down his spine.

He felt the heavy suction of her jaw muscles as she urged him on. Gordy pulled her cunt lips apart. The meat was pink; the walls slick with her still-flowing secretions. He stabbed his tongue in and out of her box, then ran back over her clit. The tonguefucking and clit licking was driving her wild. She was ready. He could feel it. He knew she wanted to scream, but his prick filled her mouth.

Her body suddenly went rigid, then began to shutter and shake. The scream was a growling sound. The contractions went on and on. Her juice splashed his face, ran down her inner thighs, and into her asscrack. She bit his cock. Pain surged through his brain. He felt his control going. He was coming. "Aaaaaaahhhhh! Oh, Chris. .


suck me! Suck meeee." She screamed her joy as his jism erupted in her mouth. His wildly spraying cock, splashed cum on face, her hair. It ran down her cheeks. She licked at it, but it was no use. Her body was out of control; her face and tongue refused to function.

Her toes curled, and she continued to thrash and buck as eruption after eruption slammed through her pleasure starved system. Her hands dug deep into his ass as she held on for life itself. Never in her entire life had she cum like that! Never in her entire life had she been so shameless.

She had opened herself - obscenely - to him, and had been rewarded with sensations that she didn't know existed. Nothing mattered now.

Only these glorious pleasures. Nothing else. They lay beside each other, panting. The kaleidoscope of colors and feelings began to subside. Chris was coming down from her sexual high. A cold, sliver of reality slid in. She sat up abruptly. "Oh my God," she wailed; her head in her hands, "what have I done?" There were tears in her eyes. Gordy took her in his arms, her warm, full breasts against his chest.

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"You made love. Only that. You haven't committed any sins." "Gordy," she cried, "you're only fourteen! If anyone found out. . ." "I said, you haven't committed any sins." He said it with such conviction and authority that she began to believe him.

She wanted to believe. He kissed her softly, fondling her breast. His mouth found the other nipple. She sighed as the delicious feeling began to flow through her body. The sensations were coming back. Reality became clouded. Her hand found his cock. His, big, beautiful cock. The center of her universe. She pulled him to her, spread her legs, and guided his still-hard prickhead into her moist cunt. It sank in the depths of her being.

She smiled. This was reality. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE The second time was slow and deliberate. Chris soared to the stars and beyond. Each stoke of his marble-hard cock sent another wave of hot pleasure shooting through her.

Her body vibrated, out of control. She heard a strange voice screaming obscenities; words she would never use, heedless of who would hear. It was her voice. "Awwwwww. . oh, God, yes. Yessss! Deeper! Harder! Fuck me harder, Gordy.

. I love it. . God, help me, I love it. . yeahhhhh. . that way!. . Fuck! Fuck! Ram it in me. . ahhhhhhh. .

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. I love you cock!. . more, please, more. . .don't stop. . keep fucking my cunt. Fill me up! No, no, don't slow down. . kill me with that fucking thing. . make me cum, Gordy. . Oh, God, it's so hard. . GORDY! Make me cum!" The words reverberated off her apartment walls. "Fuck. . fuck. . fuck. . FUCK MEEEEEEEEEE!" Christine Ritter was awed by her own wantonness. Her own lust. She sucked on the super-thick rod of the fourteen year old boy who had turned her into a sex crazed woman.

His age no longer mattered. She sucked until he came in her mouth. The thick, slippery cream slid down her throat. She rubbed his dickhead on her face and revelled in the stickiness of his cum.

His essence. She was doing things she had never done before, not with any man. And she was loving it. She knew that she would do anything he wanted, as long as she could have his pleasure giving cock in her.

They had sex in a myriad number of positions: on top, sidesaddle, beneath, and doggie-style, where she was able to look between her legs and watch Gordy's cum-slick prick piston in and out of her wet pussy.

The upside down view was so erotic to her, she came twice in quick succession. The heat of passion subsided slowly. Gordy blessed his good fortune to have found this acrobatic, and totally responsive woman. He vaguely wondered what was wrong with the men of this world who allowed this morsel to go unsatisfied. Max Duncan was right again. It would be a different world if we just fucked more, he thought. The interludes of non-lovemaking were few.

Even as they sat at the table eating, Gordy's foot was massaging Chris' enflamed pussy. Her response was to hunker down and spread her legs wide. She took his big toe and masturbated her clit. She had lost almost all of her inhibitions. When she came, she almost upset the table. A shower turned into a water soaked fuck as he held her up against the wall.

Like his sister, Carol, she slid deeply onto his stiff prong; her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her back stiff against the wall. She felt completely shameless, totally wanton. She loved it. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE "Gordy! Look at the time!" "Why?" he asked sleepily. "It's 10:45! she said incredulously. They had been fucking almost nonstop for twelve hours. "I'll be damned. This must be some sort of record." "Be serious," she said gravely, "Come on, I'll drive you home.

God, I hope your Mother isn't out looking for you." He smiled at the thought, since his Stepmother knew precisely where her was, and what he was doing. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" From the look on her face he knew he had struck a raw nerve.

She held him close. "Oh, Gordy, you know that's not the reason, don't you? Do you think, that after turning me into a harlot, I'd let anything come between us?

No way! I just don't want anything to happen that would keep us apart." Gordy smiled, he liked that. "Okay," he said, throwing off the bedsheet, "but we're missing a golden opportunity for a farewell fuck." The color drained from Christine's face. "Don't ever say that! Don't even think it. I don't think I could live without you, now." He kissed her gently.

"I'm not going anywhere." The drive to his house took less than fifteen minutes. It had taken longer to tie his bike to Christine's VW. The rain had stopped sometime, but neither knew when. "Gordy! No!" Christine twisted in his grasp. His hands were under her shirt, exploring her bare tits, sending tingling sensations down to her cunt.

"I said, no." "I want you again." She tried to hold him off. In another moment he would have her juice running like hot sap, down her inner thigh. He had that kind of effect on her. "We can't. It's too late. Someone will come by." They were sitting in her car, in front of his house, and logic refused to allow her to give in. "Lets go up to my room. No one will hear us. Com'on, we can do it." "No. It's crazy. Your Mother. . ." He nibbled her earlobes, her neck.

His tongue traced zigzag patterns along her throat, and his hands never stopped moving. Her breathing became ragged. Her body was failing her. "Oh, Gordy, please. I'm so hot. Don't do this to me." "So am I. Feel my dick." He put her hand on his throbbing rod.

"Oh, God, I want it! Gordy. . ." "Com'on then. We can do it." She hesitated. He stuck his hand beneath her dress and roughly fingered her hot, dripping cunt. She was lost again. Christine was surprised that they reached his room so easily. She was sure they would be intercepted.

Familiar, squeaky moans could be heard somewhere in the house, but she paid no attention to them. With no light, or preamble, Gordy pushed her to the bed, pulled her dress up and buried his face in her wet muff.

She sighed, moaned, and bit her hand as his tongue began to explore her pleasure raw pussy. Gordy tasted her tangy cream. Its flavor was unique. He could tell her apart from his Stepmother, his sister, from Serena, and from Helen, and her maid, Juanita. And, he thought, from Penny, DeeDee, and Margie. Christ, he thought in awe, I really am a stud. CHAPTER THIRTY "Good Morning." Chris opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly.

She had slept wonderfully, with Gordy's cock buried inside her. Even now, she could feel it against her thigh. Her sleepy eyes focused. An strange, attractive woman was smiling at her. "Good morning," she said again, "I'm Joanna Wilson, Gordy's mother." "Oh my God. Gordy!" Her world was crashing around her. They had been discovered. The disgrace! Everything was lost!

She would lose Gordy. Fear gripped her mind, and tears filled her eyes. "Gordy," she wailed, "It's your Mother!" "Wha. . so?" He was still half asleep.

"So, it's my Mother. Hi, Mom." He rolled over and pulled the sheet up to his chin. Christine was mortified. Disconcerted. She was totally naked, and there was no place to hide. Joanna felt so sorry for her. "It's alright, really it is," she said soothingly, "Please don't be upset. Here, drink this." She held out a cup of hot coffee.

Chris stared at the cup, confused. Something was wrong here. She had just been found in the bed of a minor, and the boy's Mother was telling her not to worry, and giving her a cup of coffee. Joanna retrieved Gordy's robe from the closet.

"Here, put this on. It'll be a bit snug, but it'll do. Com'on downstairs. Believe me, everything is going to be alright." She called out from the doorway as she left, "Breakfast in half an hour, Gordy." He mumbled and kept sleeping. Christine entered the kitchen tentatively. She was still too shook up at being discovered to believe that this woman was going to remain friendly. She clutched at the robe in self protection. Joanna Wilson smiled at her cheerfully.

"Hi. I'm really sorry I startled you. I didn't mean to. Are you okay, now?" Chris had trouble finding her voice. "Er, yes. . but . . I'm confused. I don't know what to say. . where to begin. . " She started to cry. "Oh, God, I'm so ashamed." Joanna put a consoling arm around her. "No, you're not. Not really. You're just embarrassed that you've been caught in bed with a younger man. You're not really ashamed of what you did. You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?" She did not wait for an answer.

"It certainly sounded that way, last night." "You heard us?" "Dear, the world must have heard you." This brought on a new rush of tears.

"Look, lets talk. Can I call you Chris?" She nodded, wondering how she knew her name. "You've just spent a remarkable day - and night - with a very special young man. And for the first time in your life, you feel totally satisfied, right?" How did she know, Chris wondered. "So why are you embarrassed? Because convention says you shouldn't sleep with a teenager? Because I walked in on you? Don't you see, none of those things matter. All that is, is someone imposing their version of morality on you." Chris sipped her coffee.

The steaming fluid put some color back in her cheeks. She was surprised at this attractive woman's sense. It was true. She wasn't sorry for having fucked Gordy, only about being found out.

"Gordy is very special to us," Joanna continued, "Me and his sister, Carol. We. . ." Before she could finish, Carol walked in. She wore baby dolls and looked bright as a new penny. "Hi, there. I'm Gordy's sister, Carol," she said, "Sleep well, or did that young stallion keep you going all night?" Chris hung her head. My God, she thought, everybody knows. How stupid she felt.

Did I really believe I could sneak into a strange house without anyone knowing? I must have been out of my mind, she thought. "Don't make her feel any worse, Carol. She's going through a lot. Just like we did." "Oh, I'm sorry. Really I am. I shouldn't have made a joke about it. I know how wonderful Gordy can be." Chris was aghast.

"You know?" she asked, suddenly finding her voice, "How do. . I mean. . ." Joanna pushed Carol towards the door. "Go take a shower or something. Let me handle this." Chris couldn't contain herself. The moment Carol left she said, "What did she mean by that? 'She knows'. What does that mean?" "It means," Joanna said calmly, "that Carol has slept with her stepbrother." Chris' eyes widened. Words were hard to form. "You mean she. . she. . ." "She fucked him, or he fucked her.

Depends on how you look at these things." "I can't believe it. And you know about it? Condone it? That's horrible," she said without thinking. "Anymore wrong than his sleeping with his teacher?" Joanna said sharply.

"You haven't been listening to me." The reality of her words penetrated Chris' mind. What was right; what was wrong?

Now, she was even more confused. She gulped at her coffee. "Let me shock you even more. I've slept with Gordy! Although, you don't really sleep very much with a frisky cock jabbing you all night long, do you?" Despite herself, her shock, a vision of Gordy and this very attractive woman flashed in her mind.

Bodies entwined. It was very erotic and she found herself becoming aroused. "And one better. Carol and I have been in bed with Gordy - at the same time! We've eaten each other pussies while Gordy took turns fucking us." Joanna could see Chris's breathing quicken. Her robe had parted, revealing deep cleavage.

She could make out her hardened nipples through the thin material. "Gordy has fucked a lovely black girl! And Carol and I have been assfucked by the biggest, blackest nigger you ever saw; he has a cock even bigger than Gordy's - and my son was right there with us, shoving his cock down our throats while it happened." Joanna's descriptions whipped at her mind.

Pussy eating! Ass fucking! Black cock! All her unspoken fantasies assailed her at once. It was staggering. She gripped the table for support. Her body shook, as a montage of erotic photographs flashed before her eyes. With a strangled groan, she climaxed. Joanna held her close, and Chris grabbed her tightly, trying to get her inflamed body under control.

Cunt juice dribbled down her inner thighs. Joanna could feel the tremors subside. She kissed the younger woman's hair, her eyes, her cheek. She could smell the sharp aroma of her cum. Her own cunt was stimulated by the smell. Chris felt Joanna's tongue trail saliva down her neck, into the cleft of her tits. Chills ran through her body. She felt lips on hers, but she was only remotely aware that another woman was kissing her. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, her tongue seeking.

She floated in some faraway place. Her robe was now completely open; Joanna was playing with her tits, sucking on her cherry red nipples. "Mmmmmmmm." she sighed, "Oooooooooh. Yes, yesssss." Her clitoris became extended, and her legs opened automatically as this pleasure giving tongue traced a trail down to her pubic hair.

"Aaaaaaaah. Oh, God, yessssss. . lick it. . yes, suck my dirty cunt. Suck it!" Chris gripped the chair. Her legs were wrapped around Joanna's neck, and she pushed her hips into the other woman's face. Flashes of brilliant light flooded her mind. Hands fondled her tits. Fingers rolled her nipples. A tongue entered her willing mouth. Chris opened her eyes. Carol Wilson was passionately kissing her and pleasing her body. She was beyond surprise. Waves of pleasure washed over her body.

She relaxed and gave herself up to these sinful, wonderful sensations. Chris did not see the Polaroid pictures that Carol had taken laying on the counter.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE When Gordy came downstairs, still somewhat sleepy, the kitchen was empty. So was the living and dining rooms. He wondered where everyone was. Shrugging his shoulders, he headed for the refrigerator and something to eat. The Polaroid pictures caught his eye. The first glance woke him right up. There were six of them, all different angles of Chris having her pussy eaten out by either Joanna or Carol. The look on her face was euphoric. His cock stirred.

Pictures in hand, he went looking for the girls. This was one show he didn't want to miss. He found them in his Stepmother's room, in the big bed, daisy chained to each other's cunt. No wonder he hadn't heard anything.

They were too busy sucking pussy to take notice of him. He could hear the little slurping noises they made. Looking around, he spotted the camera. This, he thought, was too good to pass up. No one stopped as he began to snap pictures. He wasn't even sure that they knew he was taking them, but Carol did manage a smile as he came in for a close up of her tonguing Chris' juicy hole.

Saliva dribbled down her chin. Chris was so enraptured, she didn't even notice. It was a great shot. When he interjected himself into the chain, there was a scramble to see who would get his cock first. No one really lost. Gordy ate Chris' ripe cunt - she was full of her own cum and Carol's saliva - in a modified '69' position, his Mother, sister, and teacher all vying for his dick. In a move towards peaceful coexistence, they each took turns sucking his rod, trying to gauge when he would shoot his load; each trying desperately to be the recipient of his hot jism.

When he came, he splashed all three on their faces, and they happily licked up his load, like preening felines. "I think I'd better get some more film," Carol said, "It looks like we're going to be here for a while. Don't start without me." "What pictures? You guys took pictures? When? Where was I?" Chris asked. "From the looks of things, you were right smack in the middle," Gordy said, passing the Polaroids to her.

They saw the mixed reaction in her face: shock and intrigue, then fear. "They're really graphic. Er, what do you do with these?" "Relax," Joanna said, patting her tit, "They're Gordy's and they don't go anywhere." "Yeah. They're for my scrapbook, when I'm old and gray. Max says every stud should have one, so he can keep the memories alive and fresh in his mind. That's important." Chris looked at Joanna quizzically.

"Max?" she said, "Is that the black guy you told me about?" "Huh huh. The Rear Reamer!" "Is it really true what they say about them; about how big they are?" "It sure is, darlin'," Gordy said, "and Max is one of the REAL big ones." "Do you want to try a black?" Joanna asked, "It can be arranged." Chris colored.

She looked at Gordy. "I'd be a liar if I said no. . I'm curious. Are you mad?" Gordy smiled. "What do you think?" "You'll love it! Black and beautiful; especially when they prong you up the ass." "Oh, God! My ass? I've never been screwed in the ass. Even Gordy hasn't done that to me. I'd die!" "Don't worry, luv," Gordy interjected, "before today is over you're going to be a three way broad." "What's that?" "A chick who fucks, sucks, and takes it up the ass." Chris licked her lips.

She blushed furiously, but inside she was intensely excited. She looked at her new playmates, shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Yesterday, I thought sucking cock was perverted.

Today, I just may be ready for anything, including a cock up my ass." She giggled. "I can't believe how cock happy I've become." Joanna ran her hand down Chris' smooth thigh, "Gordy has that affect on women.

My pussy was creaming from the moment I first laid eyes on this beautiful joint." She leaned forward and kissed the tip of Gordy's dick. "Do you remember that day, Gordy? Would you like to hear about it, Chris?" "Ah, Mom." "Yes. Yes, I would. I'm getting juicy already." "Here I am," Carol called as she returned, "All loaded and ready to go. Who's going to play cameraman?" "I will," Joanna said, "And while you three assume some provocative positions, I'll tell Chris how Gordy first got into our pants." Gordy laid back and smiled at the camera, Carol and Chris on either side of him.

Both had a hand wrapped around his erect shaft - like kids choosing up sides at a baseball game - and his purple dickhead still stuck out.

"Hurry up and take the picture," he said, "I want to get laid." "My, my," Joanna said, laughing, "a backseat director." It took ten rolls of film to record the day that Christine Ritter became a three way broad. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO The invitation had been completely unexpected, a total surprise, and Joanna was very apprehensive as she entered the restaurant to join Cecilia Duncan for lunch.

She didn't want to be part of a jealous wife scene. Not here in public with a woman she knew only casually. Carol had convinced her that she was being overly melodramatic. Finally, she had agreed to go, but as she sat down at the table she wasn't sure. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," Cecilia Duncan said, her smile seemingly genuine. "Thank you for inviting me." She was tempted, but she didn't say, 'Why?' Cecilia was dressed to perfection; simple, classic, and expensive.

She was, Joanna noted, a very lovely woman. And was now glad that she had dressed with particular care. They were seated in a quiet circular booth, surrounded by potted plants, away from the main lunch crowd. "I asked for this spot so we could talk privately." Joanna waved at the waiter. "I think I'm going to need a drink," she said, sure of what was coming.

She ordered a Martini. Cecilia nodded for one too. Joanna steeled herself for the ordeal. She had been foolish to listen to Carol; foolish to believe she could live her own way and not have other people intrude.

How long had her freedom lasted?

Just a few glorious days, she thought sadly. "I really can't thank you enough for coming. You're the only one who can help me put things in their right place. After all," Cecilia said, "you've had a similar experience." Joanna looked at her in confusion. "Cecilia - may I call you, Cecilia? -I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about." "Our children. Actually, our sons. Having sex with our sons. How did you handle it?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Joanna blanched and downed her martini in a single gulp.


She looked around the room, sure that everyone was watching. "Tell me everything you think you know," she ordered. She had stressed the word, 'think', trying to bluff. Then she waved at the waiter for a refill. "I take it, my horny brother-in-law, didn't relate our family history to you.

That bastard! I'm sorry, I should have known that he'd be a closed-mouth sonofabitch about us, while being quite descriptive about you.

I really am sorry! But to put you at ease," she looked around the room, "we've been screwing since Junior High. Max, John and me. They introduced me to the gang-bang," she giggled, "I loved it!" Despite her feelings of dread, Joanna found herself giggling along with Cecilia.

Surprised, she relaxed a bit. Over cocktails and lunch, Cecilia told her how Max had related his seduction of her; of her own tryst with her son and daughter, and that she knew - and approved - of her fling with her husband, John.

Joanna was truly flabbergasted, but said nothing to confirm the events Cecilia spoke so casually about. Then Cecilla went on to relate the night she and her husband had seen their children - Peter, Serena, Gordy, and Carol - fucking in the den. "Let me tell you, Joanna, seeing my son fuck his sister blew me away." She waved her arm around. "At first I think I went mad, but it turned me on so fast I'm not really sure. Watching the guys screw those young, eager pussies made me lose control.

Incest, be dammed! "It was just so. . so exciting, so stimulating! I don't know how to describe it. I wanted them both, yours and mine, right there." She chuckled. "But only Peter turned out to be available. Actually, I thought he was going to sleep right through it." "Then you did have sex with your son?" Joanna asked in a whisper, her eyes shining with excitement. "I had to blow him for twenty minutes before he really woke up, and even then I'm sure he thought it was a dream.

Your daughter had just about fucked him dry." Both women laughed. "I had to do the same thing to Gordy," she giggled, "when I wanted more. . ." Joanna stopped, aware that she had just admitted her own guilt.

Her face blushed. "I guess that's called, letting the cat out of the bag. What do we do now?" Cecilia Duncan's smile was gleaming. "I think we finish our excellent lunch and continue to discuss our rather unique situation, especially since neither one of us seems to want to change the new order of things." By dessert, they were fast friends.

Joanna told Cecilia about her early life, how she was afraid that there was something wrong with her, always craving sex, and how she had blocked it out of her mind. And as she related the events of the night that had caused her to change; the double fucking from two total strangers, she felt Cecilia's hand on her knee. Slowly, it moved up her thigh. The erotic touch of the handsome black woman made her pussy contract and her juices begin to flow. She told Cecilia about her relief when, first Max, then Gordy had fucked her.

"I didn't feel guilty at all. . well, not really. Max helped me work through it, and Gordy is very mature, very sensitive. He showed me that I was really loved. Whatever fears I had, Gordy and Carol put to rest. And with Max's help, all my inhibitions just went right out the window." "Well, I can sympathized with you," Cecilia said.

Her hand was still on Joanna's upper thigh, gently kneading it. Unconsciously, Joanna had tried to open her legs, but the skirt restrained her. The gently pressure of Cecilia's probing fingers was softly stimulating. "I'm always horny, and I have to live like fuckin' Snow White all the time, because of John's career. And some of those college professors are pretty foxy, too." "At least you have John.

He has to be a great support. My husband would never have understood my wild desires." Cecilia squeezed Joanna's thigh, her fingers in the vee of skirt where it bunched at her pussy. "John likes to support you on his dick, honey," she snorted, "He's been screwing coeds for years." "Well, what do you do then?" she asked, squirming in her seat from Cecilia probing fingers.

"There's always Max. . an occasional delivery man, and . . every now and then, something really exciting and off beat. Like now!" "I don't understand?" Cecilia leaned close and pulled one hand from beneath table. Two fingers were shining with moisture. "I've been finger-fucking myself since you told that damn story." She giggled. "I told you I was a hot one!" Excited and turned on, Joanna moved the table cloth that covered the other woman's legs.

Her slit skirt was pulled up high, exposing a wild thatch of glistening, raven black pussy hair. Joanna licked her lips as she stared at the startling pink meat peeking through the thick, crinkly forest. Cecilia wore no panties and only a lacy, white garter belt. Obligingly, she opened her legs wide for inspection then ran a wet finger through her puffy cunt-lips.

It came away slick with pussyjuice. Again struck by the wonderful contrast in colors, Joanna felt her face and body flush. Her own cuntjuice started to ooze through her panties. Cecilia put her sticky finger against Joanna's lips. "Suck!" she said softly. Joanna trembled as her lips encased the slimy finger, the sharp taste of cunt on her tongue.

Eyes closed in passion, she sucked the finger clean, her tongue swirling around it. It made a popping noise when Cecilia pulled it from her mouth. Breathless, their chests heaving, they looked at each other intently.

Cecilia glanced around the room. "Eat me!" It was a command. "No!" Joanna said in a harsh whisper. "Someone will see me. Let's go somewhere. Please! I'm so hot!" Roughly, Cecilia, grabbed her tit and a shockwave went through her body.

She trembled as her pussyjuice boiled up, forcing her to tightly squeeze her thighs together. "Eat me!" Cecilia repeated, her face flushing with pent-up passion. Sheepishly, Joanna glanced around the room, then slipped beneath the table. On her knees, she pulled her own skirt up to her hips, and gingerly crawled to Cecilia's gaping thighs. Gently, her fingers probed the furry jungle making Cecilla jump and spread her legs wider. The pungent smell of cunt - black cunt!

- assailed her nostrils, exciting her, stoking the fire that burned in her own pussy. Her mouth watered as she played with crinkly hair; the fat pussylips gaping at her.

Cecilia humped forward, her ass squirming in the leather couch, her desire evident. Joanna teased the steaming pussyhole, tickling the opening with her finger, running it up and down between Cecilia's cuntlips.

She enjoyed the sense of power she felt over the other woman's body. She was the Keeper and Giver of Pleasure. She ran her tongue over Cecilia's silken thighs, up and around, nibbling at the thick cunt hair, leaving a streak of saliva over the tender, trembling, black satin skin.

Like a snake, her tongue shot into the hot, pink hole, twisted around and out. It came out awash with flowing pussy-cream. She licked her lips and savored the salty taste. Gently, her hands kneaded the soft flesh of Cecilia's asscheeks, and the firm thighs. She heard Cecilia gasp, the sound strangled in her tightly closed mouth. Joanna's rapid breathing was almost raspy.

Her own hot cunt contracted and pussyjuice oozed down her leg. An exquisite pleasure-pain knotted her loins. With her thumbs, she spread the cuntlips far apart.

Cecilia's throbbing clit stood out prominently. Joanna could see the sparkling cunt juices clinging to the pink, succulent walls. The aroma was overpowering making her head throb with passion, and desire. Half delirious, she plunged her face into Cecilia's dark- furred crotch, her tongue slithering up the other woman's hot fuck-tunnel like a snake.

Heat poured from it like a volcano. Cecilia's legs clamped on either side of her face, almost strangling her; but her tongue plunged on. In! Out! Up! Down! The thick, coarse, cunt hair scoured her face, streaking her makeup but her tongue continued its frantic licking. She twisted her head violently, breaking the legs' vise-like grip of her head.

Her face was smeared with cumjuice. Her lips sucked on the sensitive clit making Cecilia's ass grind into the leather. Joanna shoved a finger into the hot cunt.

It was like liquid fire! Like a carnivore, the hungry pussy snapped at the twisting finger, trying to suck it deep into bottomless depths. Cecilia's eyes glazed in pleasure.

Her hands twisted a napkin into a tight rope and her teeth sank deep into the cloth, strangling the scream that would voice her decadence to the world. She was ready to cum! Her eyes shot open and her head snapped back. Without warning, Joanna had stuck a finger up her ass along with the one in her grasping pussy.

If she hadn't had the napkin in her mouth there would have been no way to stifle the pleasure-scream in her throat.


As it was, her body bucked against the seat, moving the table loudly, causing a few annoyed glances to come her way. She didn't see them. Trembling violently, her cum gushed into Joanna's waiting mouth. Grabbing the table for support, she bucked her hips against the pleasure-giving tongue, a low, guttural sound gurgled in her throat. Shivers, like aftershocks, make her tremble as Joanna, slowly and deliberately, licked her pussy clean. The pleasure was exquisite.

Glancing around like a sneak-thief, Joanna, a smile on her face, quietly reclaimed her seat. Her face was flushed and small streaks of cumjuice shined on her cheeks. She caressed Cecilia's arm, the gentle pressure seem to awaken her. "Ohhhh, that's was tremendous!

I feel so weak. Oh, baby, you are good!" Joanna blushed with pride. "I came, too," she giggled, "and I didn't have to touch my pussy. Your cream set me off." "Oh, we are two hot ones!" Cecilia proclaimed, and the women embraced. A waiter, standing across the room, saw them embrace. He glanced at his watch and wished that they'd finish up their lunch and get the hell out. It was getting late and he had a date.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE Max has seen their arrival and opened the door for them. "Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly." "Sweet thing," Cecilia cooed, patting his cheek.

"John, Max, you know Joanna - obviously. And this is my son, Peter. Isn't he beautiful?" "Mom!" "Yes, his is," Joanna said with emphasis. She kissed him lightly on the lips, and if it could be seen, Peter was actually blushing.

He realized that Carol's Mother was staring at his crotch, and his cock twitched. Peter had politely stood up when his Mother and Mrs. Wilson entered the room. He thought that she was as pretty as her daughter, and he wondered if she had any idea of what had happened the other night. He had stood apart from the adult group as they conversed, a bit apprehensive about being part of them.

When Joanna walked up to him, he noticed the way her hips swayed and the way her suit accented her body. He felt her lips lightly on his.

"You really are a handsome young man," she said. He stammered his thanks in a low voice. "Be careful, Joanna," his father said, "you'll make his head swell." Joanna laughed. She felt light, carefree, and the anticipation of what might happen sent a sexual excitement through her. She could feel the moisture in her cunt. She smiled at Peter's father. "Well, that's a beginning." "I think the ladies can use a drink," Max said.

"Make mine a martini," Cecilia said, "but first, I'm going upstairs to change. You guys can start without me." Joanna looked at the drink Max served her: a Black Russian!

"You know, Max, I'm really getting hooked on the color Black." He smiled. "Well, what can three beautiful black men do for the lovely white lady?" Peter didn't know what was going on. Mrs. Wilson seemed to be flirting with them. Hell, he thought, that wasn't possible, but he couldn't help but compare her body to her daughter's, and just the random thought of his lovely White Goddess was enough to stiffen his dick.

Joanna looked at each man, purposely. Peter could feel the intensity in her eyes. When she spoke, he couldn't believe his ears. "You can turn me into an Oreo cookie," she said quietly, answering Max's question. His father's deep laugh filled the room. "Looks like your education is going to take a great leap forward, boy." Peter gulped. He watched the lovely white lady slowly take off her suit jacket. She wore a black, lace Teddy beneath, and he could see her nipples through the material.

Holy shit, he thought. Cecilia sat in front of her dressing mirror, combing her hair. She was sure that if she waited long enough nature would take it course. She wondered how Peter would react. Would he be shy? Be intimidated? Or would he just throw caution to the winds and join in. She hoped it would be the latter.

So much of her plan depended upon it. She had a streak of exhibitionist in her; a similar quality she recognized in Joanna, and she wanted to make a special show of having Peter. Peter!

Her beautiful, baby boy. She smiled. A very appropriate name, she thought. Fifteen minutes had gone by. Too soon. She quickly undressed. Naked, except for high heel shoes, she checked her image in the full length mirror.

Not bad for an old broad, she thought, pleased with what she saw. Her tawny skin was firm, her stomach almost flat. She still had the firm uplifted tits of her twenties. Only now she had to work harder at keeping them that way. She thought of her daughter, Serena, and her juicy, young body. The comparison was favorable.

She selected a sheer, white penquior set, then discarded the nightgown. The contrast was stunning. She checked the clock. Almost thirty minutes. If they weren't in her pants by now, she thought, they should turn in their dicks. She heard the grunts and moans when she opened her door.

The grunts were masculine, the moans, definitely, feminine. From the stairs she could see the entire living room. Everyone was naked, including Peter. He stood apart form the group, unsure of himself, stroking his young, massive prick. Cecilia felt the warm juice well up in her pussy. Joanna lay astride Max, his cock shoved deep into her pussy.

It was shiny from her secretions. John was behind her pushing his heavy club-like cock into her waiting asshole. She wiggled backwards, trying to help, and still keep Max inside her. She beckoned to Peter, "Come to me, pretty boy," she cooed seductively, "let me suck you pretty Black cock." Her voiced reeked of sex. "Ooooooh," she moaned as John sank his cock into her bunhole, "that feels so good. Fuck my ass, big man. . com'on, Peter, I need to suck on your prick." "Move, boy," John said.

His father's voice propelled him forward and his cock hit the mark. Joanna opened her mouth and let his fat dick slide over her tongue. She was completely filled, her body bursting with pleasure. Cecilia watched and felt her heat rise. Her fingers had found her slit and rolled her clitoris, like a marble in oil.

Her passion was near fever pitch. Joanna shifted her weight, trying to synchronize all three men. This was life, and she didn't want it to end. Why had she denied herself so long? No one took notice of Cecilia when she came down the stairs. Their world was centered on the pleasures each was receiving. She knelt beside Joanna and pulled Peters' cock from her mouth and began sucking on it, energetically. Peter's eyes popped open as his cock went from his lover's mother's mouth to his own Mother.

He felt its heat as it encircled his enraged member. "Mom!" he said in stunned surprise. He tried to pull back, but she held his balls in a firm grip. The pressure of her jaw muscles was familiar. He had felt it before. The dream! His Mother had been in his dream, but this was real, and he knew that the dream had been real.

He relaxed his hips and ran his hands through his Mother's thick hair, pulling her face closer; sinking his cock deeper into her throat. He closed his eyes, and felt good. "Oh, yeah, Mom.

. oooooo, suck! Suck it good." "Beautiful boy cock. . so big, and fat! Beautiful." Her voice was thick with spittle. Saliva ran down her chin.

Peter found himself pulled to the couch by his Mother. He stood before her supine body, this woman who bore him, who now offered her lush body to him. His cock seem to grow even more, and he became caught up in a sexual frenzy that shut out everything else. "Put it in, quick," she said, parting her pink cunt lips. Without hesitation, his cockhead entered her tight vaginal slit and slowly sank into her depths.

She moaned as his shaft rubbed the walls of her cunt. "Awwwwwww! Ooooooooh, yes. Fuck me, Peter!" she ordered, "Fuck your Mother." Her voice hissed her pleasure in his ear, and her legs went around his back and she began moving to his frantic rhythm. Her hands guided his hips, slowing him down, controlling her pleasure, teaching him. Joanna had felt a loss when Peter was hastily taken away from her, but Max increased the power of his stroke and pulled her down roughly by her tits.

John gripped her asscheeks tighter and she quickly forgot the loss of Peter's young cock. They heard Peter yell, "Oh, Mom, you're so fuckin' hot, Christ, fuck me back. . more, Mom, more." The copulating trio had a clear view of Peter's thick cock pumping in and out of his Mother's wet box. It was smeared with gleaming pussyjuice. They could hear Cecilia's encouragements; her words mixing Motherly love and lust together.

The view was stimulating. Joanna could feel her own climax building. Her skin tingled and glistened with the effort; her cunt and ass stretched to the limit, and still she strained for more. John came first, screaming his lust; pulled his cock out and shot his cum all over Joanna's ass and back. It was a powerful load and it ran down her body in streaks.

His body trembled and shook. Max doubled his efforts and her eyes glazed as she felt her body fill up, then erupt in a shattering climax. It was so blinding she was unaware of Max pouring his cum into her. Cecilia was working Peter expertly, bring him close, the slowly tapering off. She wanted this to last a long, long time. She ran her tongue in and out of his ear, his mouth, and down his sensitive neck. Each sent a shock of electricity through his super-aroused body.

Peter had forced her legs back to her shoulders, giving a dramatic view to all of his meaty shaft pumping in and out of his Mother's hole. His voice was unintelligible. The other spectators were entranced with the view.

Cock hungry Bailey Brooke sucks step bro deep throat

Joanna lay on her side, Max's cock still embedded, and watched the lovely sight. It was like watching herself with Gordy, only the colors were different. The sight of his wife and son had kept John's pole rigid, and he nudged Joanna's mouth. Automatically, she began to lick it, but she didn't take her eyes off the scene on the couch.

There was no feeling of guilt, no remorse. She felt joy and freedom, for herself and for Cecilia. She didn't care what the world thought, they had found their life. "I have to get this for posterity," Max said, sliding his dripping cock from her pussy. A moment later a flash of light startled her. "C. B. DeMille's at it again," John said, thickly. Max moved around, getting the right angle to show off Peter and his Mother at their best. When Cecilia screamed that she was cumming, Max was right there to get a close up of her face.

"You next, sweetheart," he said, pointing the camera at Joanna and John. She smiled as best she could with her mouth full of black cock, and began sucking in earnest. Max was rewarded with a great shot of his brother creaming all over her face. Max got a lot of great shots during the course of the day. CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR The following weeks, for Gordy, were full of wonder, adventure and sunshine. Even when the weather was bad, the days -and the nights - were glorious.

He was a Harem master! A stud first class! Even the other part of his life took an upswing. He was inducted into the Fraternity, and his new Brothers were surprised, and pleased, by the female population that came to witness his investiture. He made the wrestling team, and at each match, a contingent of girls and women came to root for him and the team.

He had found the acceptance he had been looking for, but he had little time to enjoy it. Being a stud was a full-time job.

The only sour note during this period was Max Duncan's departure for the East Coast. But he had some advice for his young friend. "You're on your way, young son.

But a word to the wise. Women are strange creatures. They like to think they're your one and only, even if they know better.

They crave individual attention. You've been banging them by the group. Try a one on one approach. I don't mean just one a day; just one at a time. Keep the other for special times. Know what I mean?" "Yeah, Max. I get the message. But what about you? When are you coming back?" "Don't worry, Gordy. I plan to visit this oasis soon. It's still virgin territory, excuse the pun. In the meantime keep things rollin', okay?" Gordy promised that he would do just that.

And he took Max's suggestion to heart. As usual, Max was right. The women responded even more wantonly, if that was possible. But regardless of how he scheduled himself he always had time for Joanna and Carol. In the evening they would cuddle together in his stepmother's large bed and review the events of the day, until they went to sleep; usually the ladies fell asleep with a hand wrapped around his lovely dick.

Mother and daughter were not inactive either. John Duncan had introduced Joanna to a friend on the school faculty, and from the noise coming from her bedroom, Gordy knew they had hit it off. Carol was now Marlene's equal, but much more sedate. She liked to encourage a guy in flirtatious ways, rather than just grabbing his cock. She was always in demand, and taking a cue from Gordy, each guy thought he was the only one.

With all the goings on, the evening conversation was never really dull or one sided. As Gordy approached his fifteenth birthday, he realized that the circle was ever widening. Plain Penny had blossomed and introduced other wallflowers to him. Christine had brought her own sister over when she was visiting and had Gordy introduce her to a life she didn't know existed, even though she was married. And Marlene spread the word among her wilder girlfriends. As did Helen and Juanita. Between the new wallflowers, relatives, groupies, bored, rich housewifes, and Mexican beauties, Gordy rapidly became a master of time management.

But, even with all this activity, there were those special times, some humorous, and some Gordy wasn't even involved in. He found out that his stepmother had shown up on Helen Crotty's doorstep, unannounced. Naturally, Helen anticipated the worse. She saw her reputation in ruins: Old female lecher seduces young boy!

However, with the help of a double dildo, and a merciless tongue, Joanna was able to allay her fears. Before the day was over, Juanita was also a member of their club, and the official photographer. After seeing the pictures, Gordy's erection could only be satisfied by the getting the club together and fucking each pink, puckered shitter - and that made for another round of great pictures.

His collection continued to grow. Then there was the time that Gordy came home and found Mrs. Duncan and Joanna having tea together; of all things. Peter sat quietly in a corner.

"Hello, love," Joanna said and made the introductions. "Gordy," Cecilia said, "I'm so happy to meet you, at last. Your Mother has told me so much about you. In fact, we were just sitting here comparing notes on our sons." "Well, it's pretty hard to keep up with Pete." "That's what I'd like to find out," Cecilia said with a smile.

"I'm very interested to see to see that big cock of your and I want to find out if you can fuck as well as Pete. Joanna says you do." Gordy was flabbergasted and almost swallowed his tongue. He didn't know Peter was screwing his own Mother. Peter was real happy to get even with Gordy for the joke he and Carol had played on him.

After an afternoon of constant fucking, sucking and switching partners, the women declared it a draw - and damn glad to do so, because the boys had screwed them ragged, trying to out do each other. The climax being a double ass- fucking, while the ladies went at each other in a '69' position. Peter pumped Joanna's slick bunhole with his black tool, and Gordy spread Cecilia's ebony legs wide and reamed her shitter, while both women strained to lick pussy and prick at the same time.

"Christ," Peter said when he and Gordy were alone, "my dick is ready to fall off." "Tell me about it. Now I know what Ben Franklin meant about older women." "What's that?" "He said, '.

and they are ever so grateful.'" "Yeah, man," Peter laughed, "Think I'll stay with the young girls. They don't try so hard. These ladies will kill you." "Pete, do you ever think about what we're doing?" "You mean fucking our Mothers?" "Yeah." "Once in a while.

But when I'm between Mom's legs I just know I'm getting the best piece of pussy in the world. And I don't give a shit about anything else." "That's the way I feel, too." And they both laughed. CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE For his fifteenth birthday, Joanna Wilson threw her son a surprise party. Just a few intimate friends were invited; people she thought had a part in Gordy's coming of age.

Max Duncan flew in especially for it. There were four males - Gordy, Peter, Max, and his brother, John; three black and one white. There were eight women - just the right number in Joanna's mind - Cecilia and Serena Duncan, Carol and her girlfriend, Marlene, Helen Crotty and her maid, Juanita, Gordy's teacher, Christine Ritter, and of course, Joanna, herself.

Max gave an impromptu speech - something about Gordy becoming a 'big boy' - which got the desired laugh. Gifts were given, and after a short time, Gordy noticed some tentative moves being made; actually orchestrated by his Mother. He found himself paired with Cecilia and his Mother, which seemed appropriate. Chris and Marlene surrounded Max, and from the look in Chris' eye another of her fantasies was about to come true. Marlene just wanted to be with the biggest cock in the place.

John Duncan got the young stuff: his daughter, Serena, and Carol Wilson. And Peter? He was happily involved with Helen Crotty and her maid, Juanita. Gordy looked around at the various couples, the contrast in colors, and the various states of undress and couplings.

Damn, life was good, he thought. And his was just beginning. Of course, he first had to survive this party. The End