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THE WILSON FAMILY SAGA (PART 4) BY JGE POWERS

(FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME: jgepowers40@hotmail.com)


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 . .
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,
". . . 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. "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 . . . 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. 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



3 comments

Anonymous readerReport

2014-02-13 00:45:31
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2013-12-28 05:57:21
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Norton5Report

2013-07-02 23:00:51
Very well-written series. Keep on writing.

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