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THE WILSON FAMILY SAGA BY JGE POWERS (PART 3)

FEEDBACK ALWAYS WELCOME: jgepowers40@hotmail.com)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (Continued)

It was after 9 AM when Gordy left the Crotty mansion.
Juanita hadn't wanted him to leave. He smiled as he
remembered her wild, untamed passion. They had screwed on
the kitchen table, on the floor, and on the counter top. She
had sucked his cock dry, all the time, praising its size, its
strength, its youth. She really did like young stuff, he
thought, and finding a prick his size, really set her off.
She couldn't get enough of it. He remembered how she begged
him to cum on her face; how she slurped at the creamy
droplets of cum running down her cheeks, her forehead.

Wow, he thought.

Gordy had never lost his hard-on. He really amazed himself.
Even now, as he biked his way home, he still wasn't totally
satisfied. He laughed to himself. Hell, I'm a horny
bastard. He wondered what Joanna was up to. Calling his
stepmother by her given name seem to take some of the
incestuousness out of their affair.

Gordy realized that he was on Milrose lane, where
Margie Hart lived. He contemplated stopping; decided
against it, then saw Plain Penny sitting on Margie's porch.

He pulled up in front of the house. "Hi, Penny.
Waiting for me?" She really wasn't bad looking, he decided.

"As a matter of fact, I was. But I was hoping you
wouldn't show."

"Well, I wasn't," he said defensively, "Then I saw you
and decided to stop."

"Thanks for nothing. You don't have to lie. Nobody
stops for me."

"What's with you?" he asked, annoyed at her self-
depreciation.

She ignored the question. "You know what they got in
mind, don't you?"

"Breakfast."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Gordy. You know I'm
not. You've been the whole topic of conversation all night.
DeeDee's sister," she continued," told her what a big - you
know - you have. They've been plotting how to get you here.
And now you're here."

Good old Marlene, can't keep her mouth shut, Gordy
thought. "Do you believe everything you hear? And what's
your piece of this action? Are you the guard or something?"

"Look, Gordy, the only reason I'm here is because my
Mother and Margie's are best friends. 'Invite Plain Penny to
the party', she mimicked. "Don't you think I know I'm no
beauty? I've been told often enough."

He smiled at her. "I think you're rather cute - in a
tomboyish way. Really, I do."

"Don't tease me, Gordy."

"I'm not. I do think you're cute. It's you who
doesn't think so, but I'm still confused about what's going
on."

Penny gave him a disgusted look. "DeeDee and Margie
want to check you out. Jump your bones. Orgy time. Is that
graphic enough for you?"

"And you?" He wasn't about to let her off the hook.

"I don't like to see anyone used. Especially people
like us. They look at us strange because we have brains. I
don't want them to use you."

"Didn't you want to jump my bones along with the rest
of them?"

She threw her head back and laughed heartily. "Gordy,
I'm a virgin! Probably the only fourteen year old virgin
left in California. I don't want to be a virgin, but I don't
think the place to lose my cherry is at a group grope.
Besides," she said, "I don't stack up against Margie and
DeeDee."

"I keep telling you, you're wrong."

"And I keep telling you not to tease me."

He leaned forward and gently kissed her. Her response
was immediate. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue into
her mouth and exploring its interior. She began to pant.

Gordy gently fondled her breast. Small, but round and
firm. She really wasn't a stick, he though, just taller
than most girls her age. Her body was in proportion, hidden
under baggy clothes.

"Gordy . . . that feels so good." His hand slipped
beneath her sweatshirt, and he rolled her erect nipple
between his fingers. "Aaaaaa . . . Gordy . . . I think I
came."

"Lets find a quiet place where I can really make you
cum."

She gripped his arm. "They're upstairs waiting for
you. I'm supposed to tell them when you get here."

"Fuck'em. We'll stay downstairs. I'd rather be with
you."

Plain Penny turned out to be anything but. He was
pleased and delighted by her whip-hard body, and he was
truly amazed at her willingness and her passion. She was
multi-orgasmic; running from tiny cums to major climaxes.
She came when he kissed her tits. She came when he stuck his
tongue in her cunt. She even came when she sucked his raging
cock; his jism, sliding down her throat, triggered it off.
And the moment his prickhead parted her pussy lips, she came
again. And kept cumming.

Penny bit her tongue, drawing blood, trying to hold
back her screams, as her body pulsed with pleasure. She
thrashed around so violently that Gordy had trouble holding
on. Each stoke sent her into a new convulsion. She tried
valiantly to be quiet, but it was almost impossible. When
Gordy finally shot his load, her legs squeezed his body in a
death grip and she moaned loudly. They pulled apart in
almost total exhaustion. His whole body ached; his back was
raw from her nails, and his shoulders bore her teeth marks.

"Christ," he panted, "you're wild! I can't believe
you. That was really your first time?"

Sweat misted her body and she shivered as the air
licked across her skin. Her breathing was returning to
normal, but her face was still flushed. "Uhhhhmmmmmm . . .
I'm in Heaven. Don't break the spell," she said, "And, yes,
that was my very first fuck." She rolled over and faced him.
They were in the downstairs guest room. The bed looked like
World War III had hit it.

"It was a great first time, Gordy. You didn't do it
out of pity for Plain Penny, did you?"

He kissed her. "Don't call yourself that. Pity had
nothing to do with it. You have to think better of yourself.
If the guys at school knew about you, you wouldn't have time
to breathe."

She giggled. "Maybe, you should sing my virtues like
Marlene did yours . . . Would you mind if I went with other
guys?"

"Everything in life is an experience, and life should
be experienced to the fullest. No, I wouldn't, as long as
you don't forget me." He sounded very profound.

"I'll never forget you, Gordy. I've learned more about
life in an hour with you than I ever did from any book.
You're an education . . . "

Before she could continue, the bedroom door flew open.
A very mad Margie Hart stood there. "They're in here, Dee,"
she screamed, "I found them." She turned on Penny.

"You're a pig! You were suppose to call us when he
came, not go off with him by yourself."

DeeDee Sanford barged in and started to yell, too.
Penny cowered beneath the sheets. Gordy jumped up, his
jollywopper flapping in the breeze. "Shut the hell up, both
of you. Who do you think you're talking to, anyway? Give me
any shit and I'll belt you one."

"My God," DeeDee exclaimed, "look at the size of that
thing!" It was a statement, not a request.

"Shit," Gordy said and quickly got back beneath the
sheets. Penny moved closer.

"No fair, Gordy," Margie whined, "Penny has all the
luck."

"Yeah," DeeDee added, "When do we have some fun? We're
upstairs playing with a phony dick, and Penny's down her
with the real thing."

"Ladies, you flatter me, but as you can see I'm
somewhat occupied with this young lady here."

Penny hugged him tightly, uncovering her firm tits in
the process. "Thank you for that, Gordy, but . . .," she
spoke shyly, " . . . don't you think my education is somewhat
incomplete?"

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked quietly.

She paused, looked at the other girls, then nodded
slowly. Gordy smiled and threw off the covers. "Well,
ladies, it looks like we have a full house." He hugged Penny.

There was a scramble between Margie and DeeDee to be
the first one undressed.


CHAPTER TWENTY

It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon when Gordy
left. This stud business could be a real ball buster, he
thought. Three oversexed teenagers was almost too much to
handle. He smiled as he remembered the various pairings and
groupings; the daisy chain; the wonder on Penny's face the
first time another girl ate her pussy; his cum splattering
three eager faces as they all indulged in a group blowjob;
three upturned, pert and pretty asses waiting for his prong
to enter. What a morning!

He pedaled slowly. He was in no hurry, besides his
legs were stiff. It was shorter going home through the
College campus, so he turned and headed across the
quadrangle. Students milled about. As he rode by the
Student Union, he saw his sister, Carol, and he waved. She
waved back vigorously. Carol was talking to a tall, good-
looking black guy. Gordy knew him but couldn't remember from
where. Then it came to him. Peter Duncan. Serena's
brother. Shit! Small world, he thought. He looked back.
They were engaged in a very animated conversation. Hell,
maybe there is something to what Serena said. Go black and
never go back. He smiled. He was just glad that Carol was
happy. Picking up speed he headed home.

When Gordy walked into his house, his Mother was coming
down the stairs dressed in a bathrobe. Her hair was tousled,
her skin glowed, and her smile told all. She walked serenely
by, and patted Gordy's cheek. She was humming.

Max followed her down the steps. Gordy smiled and
started to say hello, then he saw the other man. Another
black man. Obviously this was Max's brother, Dr. Duncan,
Serena's father. Dr. Duncan looked embarrassed and tried to
avoid eye contact. Gordy looked at the two men, then his
Mother; the full implication hitting him at once.

Max patted his shoulder. "Just sharing the wealth,
young son."

He watched his Mother go into the kitchen, happy and
contented, oblivious to the tense scene in the hall. He
couldn't remember her ever being so happy. Max was right, as
usual. Gordy sighed and relaxed. "Hi, Dr. Duncan." Hell,
who was he to cast stones. Hadn't he screwed the good
Doctor's daughter? What irony, he thought.

"Er, hello, Gordy," the man said with an audible sigh
of relief, "It's nice to meet you." They shook hands like old
friends. Max patted his shoulder again.

"We have to be going. John's schedule doesn't give him
a lot of free time. Take care, young son."

"Yeah, see ya, Max. So long, Dr. Duncan." Gordy watched
the two men depart. His Mother walked up behind him and put
an arm around his shoulder. "Thank you, Gordy," she said
softly, "I love you." She kissed his cheek.

"I love you, too, Mom," he said, and he meant it.


CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Gordy was deep into a biography of Thomas A. Edison
when Carol cane into the living room. "Hi, where's Mom?"

"Huh? Oh, out jogging. 'Reconditioning the body' is
the way she phrased it."

"What are you doing?"

"Carol, love of my life, I'm reading. Is there
something specific you have on your mind?"

"Well," she started, "Do you know Peter Duncan?"

"Not intimately, but I know of him. Saw you two talking
today when I was coming back from my route."

"Yeah, that's right. Hey, wasn't that late for you?"

He ignored the question. "What about Pete?"

"Well, it seems he's having some trouble with English
Lit, and he asked me to come over tonight and give him a
hand."

"Is that a play on words?"

"Come on, be serious."

"Okay, how do I fit into this study deal?"

"Er . . .," she hesitated, "his parents are going out
to the Country Club for dinner, but his sister, Serena, is
going to be home."

Gordy played dumb. He couldn't resist teasing his
sister. "So? This is a study date, isn't it. Why should
his sister interfere? Or do you have an ulterior motive,
sweet sister?" Carol threw a cushion at him.

"You sonofabitch," she said, smiling, "Of course I have
an ulterior motive, as you damn well can imagine."

Gordy laughed. "Okay, okay. You have the hots for
this Nubian savage. Far be it from me to interfere with the
Great White Huntress. What do you want from me?"

She hugged him tightly. "Oh, Gordy, I knew I could
count on you. Come with me tonight. Keep Serena busy so
Peter and I can get some time alone. Do you think you can do
that?

"He's really quite shy. Not cocky, like you. And I
don't think he's ever been with a white girl before."

"I find that hard to believe, but it just so happens
I'm free tonight, and I'll be happy to help you out in your
hour of need. No pun intended."

"Do you think you'll have any trouble? You don't even
know her, and she's my age, too."

"As a matter of fact, I do know the lady in question.
I'll make a phone call and clear the way."

"What? . . . how? . . . when?" Carol was agog.

"You bastard!" she yelled, "You've screwed her already.
And you let me squirm." She grabbed him and they fell to the
floor in mock combat. "Tell me everything. I want to know.
Was she better than me?" They rolled around and Carol came up
on top of him. She rubbed her mound against his cock. He
humped back.

"Don't start anything, girl. I have to save my
strength. I'm helping my sister in distress tonight."

And they both laughed.


CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

When nature called, Christine Ritter had a tendency to
use the Girl's Lavatory, rather than the Teacher's Lounge.
It was closer to her office. She had waited for the
chattering group of teeny-boppers to leave before she came
out of the stall. If she hadn't, there would have been hell
to pay, she thought. The conversation had been very graphic!
Actually, it had been humorous. Outlandish, even. Little
Gordy Wilson - super stud! She smiled as she remembered the
glowing description of super human sexual feats. No fourteen
year old she knew of was capable of such things. And damn
few men.

Christine Ritter was twenty-six. She had that Doris
Day wholesomeness about her that men found so vulnerable and
disarming. She dressed very conservatively, hiding a rather
foxy figure; long shapely legs, flat stomach, full, cherry-
tipped breasts, and a perfect heart shaped ass. Dressed as
she was, she'd rate a second look. In a bikini, she could
cause a traffic jam.

When she reached her office, she found it difficult to
focus her thoughts on the student records she'd been working
on. Her imagination kept conjuring up mental pictures of
the scenes described by the young female students of St.
Charles Academy. She would have expected such language from
DeeDee Sanford, but Penny Grifford had really shocked her.
It had also aroused her, but she refused to admit it. Since
she and the school track coach had broken up, she had been
celibate. Not the state she desired, but she was reluctant
to go in for one night stands. So when the need became
overpowering, she masturbated.

She crossed her shapely legs and squeezed her cunt lips
together. With just a little pressure she could bring
herself off. She felt her pussy juice begin to flow, and
a warm glow spread through her body. She was alone. Just a
little pressure, she thought. She snapped herself erect.
This was dangerous. She had a Student Counselling session in
moments. She glanced at her schedule.

'4 PM - Gordy Wilson' it said.

Gordy was punctual, as usual.

"Good afternoon, Miss Ritter." And unfailingly polite.

Chris was somewhat embarrassed and flustered in his
presence. Her juices were still flowing, and her imagination
continued to pull up mental images of this handsome youngster
and those young nymphs. "Huh? Oh . . . hello, Gordy. How
are you? . . . I'm sorry, I must have been daydreaming."

"I'm fine right now, but alot depends on what you have
to say."

He has a lovely smile, she thought. Stop that! She
composed herself and began to take charge of the
conversation. "Let's see how things are going, shall we? I
can't believe you're having any difficulties."

He watched her go through his file. She's very pretty,
he thought, but her face was flushed, as if she had just
exerted herself in some strenuous activity. Gordy had always
liked his counselor, but he had never really looked at her.
Today he rectified that, and examined each visible part of
her. Her face, her body, her legs - good legs! The clothes
she wore camouflaged what Gordy perceived to be a lovely
body. He wondered how she would look naked. Did she fuck?
He shifted in his seat. He was getting a hard-on. He
recalled some rumors about her and the track coach. She
can't be a virgin, he thought. So why not.

Christine looked up. The smile was still there. His
eyes are incredibly blue, she thought, like Paul Newman's.
Why haven't I noticed them before? She felt her cunt
muscles contract. "Er . . . like I said, everything is fine.
Well, maybe English Lit could use some work . . ." She was
groping, trying to prolong the conversation, and she didn't
know why. "Your paper on Marlowe really wasn't up to your
usual standards."

Marlowe? he searched his memory. Yeah, a solid 'B'
without opening a book. He sensed a certain electricity. He
wasn't totally sure of his antenna, but there was something
about her body language; the crossed legs, the forward thrust
of her body, that gave Gordy some unspoken signal. Good ol'
Max, he thought. "Yeah, Marlowe. Er . . . not a guy you
really can get your hands around. Actually, I'm having just
a little trouble with the whole Lit class. I sort of find it
difficult to concentrated on the Arts.

Christine went into a detailed description of the need
for the Arts; aesthetic appreciation, well roundedness.

He caught a glimpse of deep, shaded cleavage. That was
his definition of well rounded.

" . . . perhaps I can arrange some additional help."

An idea came to him and he jumped at it. "Hey, yeah.
That's a great idea. Could you find time in your schedule
for me?"

"Well, I wasn't really thinking of me. Someone from
the English Department . . ."

"You're a qualified English teacher, aren't you?

"Yes, but . . ."

He pushed on. "It would mean alot to me, Miss Ritter.
No true egghead wants a class teacher to know he's having a
problem. It's a pride thing."

"I don't see how I could do it."

She fought down the sudden temptation to say yes. "I
don't have time during the day."

"I'm willing to work after school, if you are."

She paused, fighting the good fight. His eyes held
hers. A picture flashed in her mind - a long, rock hard
cock! You're a fool, she thought. "Er, well, okay," she
said, surrendering, "But I don't have time this week."

"How about Saturday?"

He was pinning her against the wall. "Saturday? . . .
Er, well, alright, Saturday."

"Great! I can be at your apartment any time you say."

Her alarm bell went off again. "My apartment? No . . .
that's out of the question - how do you know I live in an
apartment?"

Easy, he thought, don't blow this. "My paper route goes
right past your place. I've seen your car parked there. The
yellow VW?"

"Oh. Well, anyway, we can't meet at my place. That
wouldn't be proper."

Shit!

"Suppose we meet at the park. It's just down the block
from me. Ten o'clock? You know where the park is, don't
you?"

"Yes, I know where it is," he said, trying not to let
his voice mirror his disappointment. Then he perked up.
Hell, it was a beginning. "Okay," he said. "Saturday at
10AM, in the park."

Christine Ritter sat back and looked at the empty
doorway. She was disappointed that he was gone . . . and
relieved. She had actually had a momentary urge to grab him
right there in the room. Wouldn't that have been something!
She realized that she had gone too long without sex.
Something would have to be done about it, and soon. Her
eyes closed. She was tired. In her mind she saw his erect
prick; thick, bulbous, alive! Shit, she was wet again. She
hurried to the Ladies room. She prayed that it would be
empty.


CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Carol parked the car in the Duncan's wide, circular
driveway. "Nice house," she said.

"Yeah, wait 'til you see the inside."

"I didn't think college Professors lived this good."

"Blessed are the Educators."

John Duncan greeted them effusively. "Hello, there.
You must be Carol. Lovely, lovely. Good to see you again,
Gordy."

"Thanks, Dr. Duncan," Gordy replied as he shook the
older man's hand.

"Cecilia," he yelled out, "the young people are here.
Time to go." He turned to Gordy. "Peter and Serena are in
the den. You know, I really appreciate you helping Peter.
Both of you. It wouldn't look good if a Professor's son
flunked English Lit."

"Well, we're glad to help," Carol said, "Aren't we,
Gordy?

"Sure," he said, but he was already thinking of how he
could turn things to the real reason he and Carol were
there.

The young people, as Dr. Duncan called them, greeted
each other like any normal teenagers: "Yo, what's
happenin'"

"Now I know why you're flunking," Dr. Duncan said to
his son. There was polite laughter. A knowing look passed
between Serena and Gordy as she pecked him on the cheek.

Cecilia Duncan swept in. That was the only word Gordy
could think of. He now knew where Serena got her good
looks. Serena's Mother looked deeply tan, rather than Black.
She was dressed stylishly, but understated. Everything
about her said: Class. Gordy wondered if she could fuck as
good as her daughter. He smiled to himself. You are
definitely a dirty young man, he thought. Gordy turned to
Serena after the Duncans had left. "Where are they going all
dressed up?"

"Oh, there's some big faculty thing at the Country
Club. Uncle Max is going to meet them there."

"They're always boppin' off some place. Real gad-a-
bouts," Peter added. He had suddenly joined the conversation
after directing his entire attention to Carol, something that
hadn't escaped Gordy. Maybe, he mused, this won't be as
difficult as Carol thinks. They seated themselves in various
casual chairs and sofas. It was unusually quiet. Serena and
Carol laughed simultaneous. "What is this," Serena asked, "a
wake?"

"Uh, well," Peter started, "what do we do first?
Study, boogie, or eat?"

"Any other alternatives?" his sister asked.

"Well, we could discuss current events," Gordy said,
"Or . . ."

"Or . . . we could gaze at the stars," Carol followed,
"Or . . ."

"Or . . . we could play checkers," Serena carried on,
"Or . . ."

They looked at Peter.

"What are you looking at me for? I don't know what the
hell you guys are talking about."

"I guess we'll have to forgo all those good things,"
Gordy said, "and get right down to basics. Anyone want to
add another 'Or'?

"Or . . .," Carol started.

" . . . we can . . .," Gordy followed.

" . . . fuck!" Serena ended.

The look on Peter's face was priceless. They laughed
and couldn't stop. Peter continued to stand still, a
bewildered look on his face, but his eyes went wide when
Serena sat on Gordy's lap and began to kiss him passionately.
He felt Carol beside him, but he couldn't drag his gaze from
his sister and this . . . this kid. What the fuck's going on
here? His sister was letting a fourteen year old feel her
up! Carol pressed her body against Peter's side.

"Give you any ideas?" she said, and suddenly he came
awake. Carol had unbuttoned her blouse and he could see her
full white tits through the flimsy bra. His erection was
tight against his crotch. Fuck it, he thought, if Serena
wants a kid, that's her business. I'm not going to look a
gift horse in the mouth. Carol's hand was brushing against
his growing hard-on. "Com'on," he said in a choked voice,
"lets go to my room."

"No. Here." And she pulled him down into a sofa.

Just before Carol's mouth closed over his, he glanced
at his sister. Shit! She had a mouthful of white cock!
His White Goddess tugged at his zipper and squeezed his
swollen cock. He suddenly forgot what his sister was doing.


CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

"I can't believe that brother of yours. His balls are
solid brass."

John Duncan laughed. He loved it when his wife talked
dirty. It was such a contrast to her cool, sophisticated
exterior. "My dear wife, I think you're jealous. But as far
as I'm concerned, anything that keeps Max out of your pants
is fine with me, my lovely."

Cecilia playfully punched his arm. "You're so full of
shit. I only see Max once a year. Maybe. So it's natural
that we spend time together. Besides, you get too tired from
all your coeds." Cecilia continued. "That nigger thinks he's
cock of the walk. Everyone knew what they were going to do.
He was brazen; might as well've screwed on the dining room
table."

She was relating how her brother-in-law, Max, had
flirted outrageously with Helen Crotty; how close he had held
her while dancing, and how, without so much as a 'by your
leave', had walked her out the door and drove off.

"Isn't that Mrs. Crotty's problem?" John asked. "Would
you deny that poor widow woman twelve inches of good black
cock. Fantasy time, my dear. Get you all hot and bothered?"
he asked, with a leer in his voice. She took his hand and
placed it on her tit. In the darkness she had pulled the top
of her dress down. Her tits were bare, the nipples hard.

John almost lost control of the car.

She giggled. "I'm always hot and bothered, sailor boy.
But I was thinking about our standing in the community."

He squeezed her breast. "Fuck our community standing.
I've got a hard-on."

Cecilia groped him. "Save it, lover. My bones need a
bed tonight."

He pulled the car into the driveway and parked at the
rear of the house. "The Wilson kids are still here. Let's
go up the back way."

"Was their Mother better than me?" she teased. The
Duncan's had no secrets from each other.

"Hush, woman. I don't want them to hear us," he said
as they walked past the den. Cecilia glanced into the room.
The drapes were barely apart. She stopped so short that her
husband walked into her. She hardly noticed.

"Wha . . . what're you looking at? I . . .." He
stopped short. Between the parted draped they saw two
bouncing buttocks, one black, one white, sliding down two
slippery cock shafts. Peter was screwing Carol Wilson, his
long black tool pumping rapidly in and out of her. Their
daughter, Serena, was in the throes of an orgasm. And young
Gordy Wilson was sunk to the shank in her dripping pussy.

The Duncan's watched in horrid fascination as Carol
leaned over and began kissing their still convulsing
daughter. Gordy's prick plopped out. "My God," Cecilia
Duncan whispered, "look at the size of that thing - and
Peter's. They're beautiful!"

John Duncan didn't hear his wife. His eyes were on
Serena's lush body, and the white cream seeping from her
cunt. They moved closer to the window. Cecilia could feel
John's prick against her ass. She leaned back into it. His
hands went to her still naked tits, and began playing with
her erect nipples, but his eyes never left the scene in the
den. Cecilia moaned. Her hands went behind her and deftly
unzipped his pants. His hard-on sprang out and she massaged
it. They watched the girls change partners.

Carol got off Peter and immediately began to suck her
brothers's cock clean, and back to life. Serena wasted no
time taking Carol's place on Peter's hard shank. The parents
watched as their son's hard, thick cock slowly penetrated
their daughter's sopping pussy. John moaned. Cecilia turned
and pressed her body to him. She kissed him feverishly; her
hand never leaving his erection.

He pushed her against the brick wall, and expertly
pulled her dress up, pushed her panties aside, and plunged
his throbbing cockhead into her black furnace. She came
almost immediately.

***

Peter floated in a dream world. He was wonderfully
tired. Blessedly spent. The image of his sister and Carol,
his White Goddess, ebbed and flowed through his mind.

Beautiful Carol! Serena! His own sister! Lovely,
wanton. He was in Paradise. The dream was intense. A warm,
wet mouth on his dick, the pungent smell of cunt in his
nostrils. He dreamt he saw his lovely mother furiously
sucking his rod. He knew it was a dream. Even as he shot
his load into her waiting mouth, he knew it was a dream.

***

"You really took a chance coming to my room after Mom
and Dad got home. What's the matter, dear brother, didn't
you get enough last night?"

"What? Not me, Serena. You must have been dreaming."

"You didn't sneak in and fuck me again - eat my pussy?"

"Shit, girl, you were having the same dreams I was."

"A dream? Christ, it was the most real dream I ever
had. But I guess you're right. Hell, at one point I
thought you were Dad."

Peter laughed. "Now I know we're on the same wave
length. In my dream you were Mom."

They both laughed and ran to catch the bus.


CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Gordy pedaled fast. He was trying to beat the rain
that threatened to fall at any moment. The air was humid,
and the sky overcast. He wheeled into the Crotty driveway.
There was no one in the pool. It was the first time that the
weather affected Mrs. Crotty's workout, he thought. That
meant she was in the house. He hoped it wouldn't screw up
his chances with Juanita. He shrugged philosophically,
tomorrow was Saturday, and there was always Christine. The
backdoor was unlocked. "Juanita?" he called.

The kitchen was empty. This wasn't shaping up well.
She was probably tending to her boss and wouldn't have time
for him. "Hello."

He turned towards the voice, but the room was still
empty. "Juanita? Where are you?"

She stuck her head in the doorway. "Good morning,
Gordilito."

He started towards her, but she held her hand up to
stop him. "The Senora would like to talk to you."

"Mrs. Crotty? Why?

"Perhaps she wants to extend her paper subscription.
Upstairs, second door on the left. Don't forget to knock."
Then she was gone. Shit! Double shit, he thought. There
goes our time together. Second door on the left.

Instinctively, he wiped his sneakers and ran his hands
through his hair to smooth it down. He knocked softly and
heard a voice tell him to enter. Helen Crotty sat at her
dressing table and through her mirror watched Gordys'
entrance. She liked what she saw. Max, you bastard, she
thought, you had better be right about this.

"Good morning, Gordy. May I call you Gordy?"

"Yes ma'am, you may. Good morning."

Gordy was pleasantly surprised. He had expected a much
older woman. Mr. Crotty had been pushing 80 when he died.
This woman was only a few years older than his Mother.

He had no way of knowing that Helen Crotty was 14 years
older than his Stepmother. She was almost 50, but daily
exercise gave her the youthful figure of a much younger
woman. She turned to him and he caught a glimpse of thigh as
her dressing grown swirled. He could see the outline of her
nipples through the gauze-like material. He had no doubt
that she wore nothing beneath.

"I had a very interesting conversation with a gentleman
who says he knows you, and your . . . abilities. A Mr.
Duncan. Max Duncan. You do know him?"

Gordy went on guard. This was definitely not the
conversation he had anticipated. What had Max said? Had he
mentioned Carol? Serena? Hell, Joanna! "Er, yes ma'am. I
know Mr. Duncan."

"You look uncomfortable, Gordy. Please sit down and
relax. Here. Beside me." She patted the bench seat.

He sat reluctantly. She wore a light, pleasing scent.
It smelled sexy, and he felt his prick twitch. He wished he
had worn less revealing shorts.

"Mr. Duncan. Max. He says you're an exceptional young
man. Gifted, in fact. He was very impressed with your
credentials."

Gordy let out a deep breath. Shit. She was talking
about the egghead stuff! Max was Phi Beta Kappa and a Rhodes
scholar. Maybe she wants to sponsor me or something, he
thought. She put her hand on his upper thigh and squeezed.

Gordy knew immediately that he was wrong.

"I'd like very much to see your credentials." Her hand
was gently kneading his thigh. He fought to control his
growing erection. "Er . . . but . . . Juanita?"

She laughed. It was a nice laugh, he noted.

"Of course, Juanita. I should have known. Juanita,"
she called. The Latin housekeeper entered the room wearing a
French maids uniform. Gordy's eyes bugged out. It was
fucking transparent! Cellophane! And she wore only black
hose and a garter belt beneath it. She curtsied and giggled.

"You called, Senora?"

"Yes, dear. Come here. Young Mr. Wilson was just
about to show me his credentials." She smiled at Gordy. "I
think Juanita has already seen them - up close."

Gordy laughed. It was great to be alive. It was great
to be a stud! He stood and dropped his shorts. His prong
sprang to attention. And it sure as hell paid to advertise.


CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Gordy stepped out of the shower, towelled dry, and
walked into his bedroom. He was bare-ass naked.

"Well, look at this, Carol," Joanna Wilson said, "An
unusual towel holder."

Gordy made a move to retrieve his towel, then thought
better of it. He shrugged, what the hell. Carol and his
stepmother wore only bathrobes. He didn't notice their high
heel shoes. He bowed gallantly.

"Although I'm somewhat at a disadvantage, how may I be
of assistance, ladies?"

"We went shopping today and we wanted to show off our
new clothes," Carol said. She smiled at her Mother
conspiratorially.

"Where are they?" Gordy said, looking around. Together
they opened their robes. Both were dressed in Opera hose,
garter belts, crotchless panties, and flimsy see-through
bras. Joanna was in black, and Carol in red.

"That's fantastic! Boy, oh boy."

They posed and pranced for his approval, laughing as
they played at burlesque queens. Joanna even did a credible
bump and grind. "I don't think we're a hit, Mom," Carol
said, " There's no reaction from the peanut gallery."

Joanna turned and bent over, revealing her lovely
asshole. She looked back for Gordy's approval. "I think
you're right, honey. Would you care to explain yourself, Mr.
Limp Dick?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I can't tell a
lie. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is pooped."

"What the hell does that mean?" Carol asked peevishly.

"That means he's pussy-whipped. Doesn't it? Where
have you been sticking that lovely pole?" Joanna pushed him
onto the bed and sat on his stomach. He had a lovely view of
her bushy mound.

"A gentleman never tells."

Carol joined her Mother and they began to tickle him.

"Bullshit, Boy Wonder. Tell all, or else."

Gordy squirmed, laughing, and rapidly ran out of breath
as each woman found a vulnerable spot. "Okay, okay. Uncle.
Uncle. I'll tell, I'll tell."

They stopped and he tried to catch his breath. "I'm
doing this under duress."

"Yeah, sure." They sat cross-legged, one on each side of
him. The views were outstanding. Gordy related his morning
adventures with Juanita and Helen Crotty. They were avid
listeners, and he warmed to his story. He kept the details
lurid. They laughed when he told them about Juanita's
transparent uniform - "I like that one," Carol said - about
Helen's wide eye look when his cock sprang out. The girls
could envision the story as he told it: fondling the maid's
tits while her mistress slobbered spit all over his dickhead.
They could see her legs spread wide, felt her eagerness as he
pushed his fuck-pole into her juicy cunt. They shared her
orgasm in their minds.

Joanna had laid down, and Gordy was gently stroking her
pubic hair. Carol leaned closer so he could play with her
erect nipples. He told them how Max had taken Helen home
from the Country Club and fucked her ragged. And when
Juanita went to see what all the commotion was about, he
plowed her, too. And as a gesture of good will, he had
advertised Gordy's virtues.

"So what else happened?" Joanna asked huskily.

Gordy shrugged. "We fucked, sucked, ate pussy - Helen
never ate out a pussy before, so that was brand new for her."
He saw the light in his stepmother's eyes. Pussy eating was
new to her, too. And she liked it. He watched as Joanna
locked eyes with his sister. He felt the electricity in the
air.

"What else?"

Gordy leaned close to his stepmother. "I reamed out
Helen's ass while she sucked my cum from Juanita's cunt."

That was all Joanna could take. "Do me, Gordy," she
whispered, "fuck my ass." Joanna buried her face in Carol's
pussy and began licking her daughter's clit.

"Uhhhhmmmmmmm . . . oh, yeah, Mom. Yes! There! Eat
me! Suck your daughter's dirty cunt."

Carol pulled her legs wide and held them close to her
tits. She purred like a cat when Joanna shoved two fingers
into her; one in her pussy, and one in her ass.

Gordy was fully erect, now, rock hard. His Mother's
ass was sticking high in the air. A perfect target. He
licked her bunhole and dribbled saliva into it. She moaned
at the touch. He positioned his rampant prick at her
asshole and felt her push back into it. Gripping her ass
cheeks tight, he drove his rod in to the hilt. She screamed
into Carol's box and came immediately. Her climax was
shattering.


To Be Continued
6 comments

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salbites22Report

2013-08-20 03:58:16
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