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Subject: {ASSM} First Post "Crowded House" by Ray1031 (M/F f-Solo/toys Rom?)
Date: Mon, 18 Jun 2001 09:10:05 -0400
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Crowded House - First Post {M/F f/Solo-Toys (ROM?)}
By Ray1031
17 June 2001

The following story contains scenes and descriptions of a sexual
and erotic nature. If you are not of legal age or moral disposition
to read such stories, or it is illegal to possess or read such
stories where you are . . . then please leave.

For all others, I hope you enjoy my first posting. Comments and
criticisms are welcome . . . except from religious fanatics . . .
sorry, but I don't need people telling me I'll burn in hell if
my personal beliefs are not the same as theirs.

Thanks for your consideration.


Crowded House
by Ray1031

   I walked into my bathroom and a clothesline full of panties,
nylons and hose slid under my chin, almost choking me. I jerked
backwards, the rug under my feet slipped and I landed on my ass -
hard!
   "Shit!" I announced as I started to get up, already hearing the
sounds of running feet from the other two bedrooms. I was sitting
up, cross-legged, surrounded by fallen underwear when the hallway
lights went on and three half-naked females appeared in the
bathroom doorway. Debbie took one look and started laughing, the
twins looked puzzled.
   "I forgot that women in the house meant bathroom booby traps,"
I said from the floor.
   "We're sorry, Uncle Doug!" the twins chimed in unison. . .
   "But we didn't know where else to put them," finished Hannah.
   "That's okay, Hannah. No harm done," I said, standing and
turning on the bathroom light. "I'll put up some lines for you in the
basement this afternoon." Just then, I heard the first sounds of the
baby stirring in Debbie's room and knew it was about to cry. "Well,
it's 5:30 and we all need to be up in an hour anyway . . . Deb, the
baby is about to go off, must be feeding time. Rachael, can you get
me my cigarettes from my night stand? Hannah, a pot of coffee
would be nice."
   "Yes, Uncle Doug," They all chimed in unison.
   As they left I closed the door and turned to drain the lizard,
thinking about the current crowding of my house and how it came
to be.

   At 48, I looked late 30s. I was in good shape, and had maintained
the same 185lb on my 5'11" frame, plus or minus 5 pounds, for the
last 20 years without real effort. I'd never married, was moderately
successful with my own service business, and owned my own three
bedroom home, 50 acres of mostly wooded property, backing onto
a river . . . fully paid for, and without really looking for that type of
thing, I was constantly catching women from their teens on up,
looking twice and/or "checking out my butt". Without being
arrogant about it, I seldom doubted myself, and if I was looking, I
almost never came home without female companionship.

   My current situation was, however, completely unexpected, by all
involved. Debbie was 32, a shade under 5' and only ever saw 90lb
when she was pregnant. Her twin daughters, Rachael and Hannah,
had been her 16th birthday present, being born three days before
her birthday. She and her mother had raised them for the first three
years alone, her father having died when she was eight, while
Debbie finished High School. Then she married their father,
attended two years of community college, divorced their father,
moved from Indiana to Michigan and moved in with Keith after a
couple of years. 10 months ago, the baby, Susan was born and the
trouble started. Two months ago, Debbie found she was pregnant
again. Then a week ago, she and the girls came home to find their
mobile home mostly empty, Keith gone, and the park manager
advising them that their trailer was sold, by Keith, and they had a
week to move out - under terms of the sale.

   So, here we are . . . I had, by chance stopped by the day after all
of this, for one of my haphazard visits, and Debbie and the girls had
poured their hearts out to Uncle Doug.

   Yeah, 'Uncle' Doug - I was really no relation, except emotionally.
I'd met Debbie when she was 5. She had two sisters and two
brothers, all 12 plus years older than she. I'd been in the US Air
Force with her oldest brother and, at their request, had stopped by
the family home to meet everyone when I returned from overseas.
Long story short: I was immediately adopted by Mom and Dad as
another son, I was everyone's new brother, and as they all had
families of their own, I was Uncle Doug to everyone's kids. So it
still stands today, though they will barely talk to one another, Uncle
Doug is welcome everywhere and is big brother or Uncle to all,
equally. So, when Debbie had this problem come up, and further
found that Keith had somehow emptied her personal bank account
as well, it was suddenly her 'brother' Doug to the rescue.

   My house was fairly large, and adjustments could be made, plus
there was the added benefit that twins would stay in the same
school . . . so it was decided, they moved in with me. It took a few
days to get things ready for them, as it was definitely a bachelor's
home. My business office/computer/video game room, I emptied
and made into my bedroom. I put up a new shed beside my garage,
to catch some of the overflow. The family room (My old living
room) became the twins bedroom. The breakfast nook was now the
dining room. The old formal dining room was now the living room,
and my old bedroom was now Debbie's and the baby's. With much
shuffling around, five trips to the dump and moving my business
office to a corner of the basement, I suddenly found myself with
three women and a baby as housemates. A fact I was immediately
reminded of as I stepped from the bathroom and walked into the
kitchen.
   Debbie was sitting at the dining table, her pajama top open as
Susan suckled at her freckled breast, red hair in disarray around her
shoulders. Rachael and Hannah were bustling around the kitchen
counter and stove. At 5' 3", they both had their mother's red hair
and freckles, petite frame and ready smile. I'd found out the
morning before that none of the three wore pajama bottoms to bed.
   Debbie wore an old shirt, bikini panties and socks to bed. Her
daughters wore muscle T-shirts and thong panties. With their pert,
matching 34's swinging free under their T-shirts, I didn't know if I
was in a bachelor's heaven or hell . . . after all, I was 'Uncle' Doug.
Myself, before they moved in, if I was alone I slept in my jockey's
and a muscle T. When it was decided they were moving in, I
bought myself half a dozen pair of sweat pants, cut them into
shorts, and added them to my nightly and morning wardrobe.
   As I sat across the table from Debbie, Hannah set cups of coffee
before each of us. Tasting mine I found it to be just right, enough
sugar to take the bitterness off, but not enough to really sweeten it.
"Someone was paying attention to how I like my coffee," I
commented, noticing that all three faces reddened a little at the
comment. 'They must have been talking about me before I came in,'
I thought.
   I picked up the remote control and turned on the small 9"
television on my china cabinet as Hannah replied, "It was easy, you
and Mom like it the same, though you do make coffee a lot
stronger than she does."
   "Too many years in the military," I said off-handedly, tuning to
the news for the weather reports. "If it's not strong enough to peel
paint, it's not coffee."
   "We'll get used to it," Rachael said, bringing cups for Hannah and
herself. She placed my cigarettes, lighter and an ashtray before me.
"Hannah and I have always been a little surprised that you drink
yours the same as Mom, that's all. Most people seem to take it
black, with cream, or way more sugar than you do."
   "Where do you think I learned how to drink my coffee?"
prompted Debbie. "Sitting up late or first thing in the morning with
your Grandma and your Uncle Doug. The first time I ever drank
coffee was at the table with your Uncle Doug. I made such a face,
that he showed me how to add just the right amount of sugar. What
was it you said, Doug?"
   "Just enough to take off the bite, but not enough to destroy the
taste . . . add too much sugar and you might as well just drink hot
sugar water since you can't taste the coffee for the sweet."
   "That's what Momma told us when we first started drinking
coffee," remarked Rachael.
   "Now you know where I got that, too," added Debbie. "I was
nine when I had my first cup of coffee. I had this massive crush on
your Uncle Doug, and I was trying to be oh so-o-o grown up for
him."
   I chuckled softly for a moment and put in, "Too bad you never
got over your crush, Debbie."
   Her daughters looked stunned for a moment, then seemed even
more surprised when Debbie grinned and added, "Have I been that
obvious?" She took Susan away from her breast, passed her to
Hannah and cleaned her teat with a towel before closing her nursing
bra and buttoning her blouse. Hannah placed Susan on a towel over
her shoulder, and began that gentle mother's rock as she gently
patted the baby's back. "I thought I always did well at acting
normally when you were around."
   "Oh, I don't think your brothers or sisters ever caught on, your
daughters obviously never did, but your mother knew, and tell me,
haven't your fights with Keith always seemed more bitter right after
one of my visits? Why do you think my visits were always so
haphazard in nature? Though I never try to overstep my bounds or
cause trouble; yours wasn't the first relationship where my presence
seemed to cause problems."
   "I always forget how perceptive you are. You always seem to
know what's going on. But, you knew you were always welcome,
or did Keith say something to you?"
   "No, Keith never said a word. He was always affable and friendly,
at least on the surface. It wouldn't have done him any good if he
had said something, the only thing that would have changed is that I
wouldn't have entered the house. I would still have stopped by to
see you and the girls, and I think he knew that. Besides . . . you laid
down the law about me more than once, didn't you?"
   "Like I said, perceptive. Well, if you will excuse me, I need a
shower."
   "Uh, Mom," began Rachael. "We, um, need to talk for a minute."
   "Yes, Rachael?"
   "Well, um . . . ah . . . Hannah and I need something . . ."
   "What do you need? You know we don't have any money until I
get paid Friday." Today was Tuesday.
   "Yeah, we know that. But, this is something that can't wait. It's
um . . . well . . . ah," and she trailed off as both she and Hannah
glanced at me.
   Suddenly I knew what the problem was and I started chuckling,
loudly, almost choking on a sip of coffee.
   As all three turned to me I asked Rachael, "Tampons, pads, or
panty shields?" Debbie caught on, grinned, turned and walked away
from her daughter's surprised looks. After a few moments of
silence I looked each girl in the eyes and added, "Look, girls, I am
going to tell you something that you should have already realized,
long ago. A thing I told your mother when she was 8 or 9. 'I am as
apt as not to say what I think, just because I thought it. I don't get
embarrassed, and it will never do any good to get embarrassed
around me because of what I do or say. Especially since it won't
stop me'. Now, I helped you pack up and move. I know what you
brought and your 'monthly' items weren't part of it. The question
still stands, do you two use tampons, tampax, full pads, or shields,
and what strengths? Tell me the brand and specifics and I will pick
them up while I'm out working. When are you due, anyway?"
   "Tomorrow, sometime," from Hannah who was flushing slightly.
   "Well, make me a list with the specifics," I said standing and
picking up my cup. As I walked away I added, "If you need
douches or deodorants, add that as well." I kept my back turned as
I slowly poured another cup of coffee, then continued to my
bedroom to lay out the day's clothing. I didn't want to further
embarrass the twins, so I moved slowly allowing them plenty of
time for recovery. When I returned, they were both perky and
cheerful again, working at the stove on breakfast. Susan was sitting
in her playpen fascinated by the toys around her. A notepad was
lying on the table with a list of their needs. I glanced at it then sat
silently watching the news until Debbie emerged and joined me. She
was wearing jeans and a brassiere as she toweled her hair dry.
   Sliding the notepad and pen across the table to her I said, "Add to
that anything you and the baby will need before Friday. I'll pick it all
up while I'm out today."
   Debbie picked up the pen and thought for a minute before adding
a few items to the list. Sliding the pad back to me she said, "I'll pay
you back on Friday, Doug. But until then, thank you."
   "Deb, my dear," I commented, putting the list in a pocket, "If you
even try to give me any money I will paddle your bare ass. I won't
care if your daughters are present or not. You know me," I added
looking deeply into her emerald green eyes. "After all these years . .
. you know me."
   "Yes, thank you."

   After a breakfast of sausage, eggs, bacon and pancakes, I
showered and dressed for the day. When I came back to the
kitchen, I was moving normally, for me that is. Debbie and the girls
were sitting at the table talking about me. They didn't hear me come
into the room. Hannah was just asking her mother if I would really
spank her and Debbie was saying, "I don't really know, he might.
Doug will quite often do exactly what he says he'll do. He's spanked
me before."
   "He has?" from Rachael.
   As I moved to the coffee pot I joined the conversation, "Rachael,
you must remember something. I am 16 years older than your
momma. When we first met, I was 21 and she was 5. Your momma
has always been willful and kind of stubborn. I did find it necessary,
once or twice, to emphasize my words to her with a swat or two on
the butt. Only once or twice, and only when circumstances made it
really necessary."
   As I carried my cup to the table and sat, I looked each twin in
the eyes and added, "Although nothing has been said, yet, in the
next few weeks there will come some rules, or things/places your
are never to touch or enter. I will tell you one thing, right now . . .
disobey my instructions, while you live here, and 16 year old young
ladies or not, I will bruise your asses with my hand. Got it?" They
both nodded and Debbie grinned. "Good, now that the ogre has had
his say, you two had better hit the showers or you'll be late for the
bus." As they moved away from the table I turned to Debbie and
asked "Do you need anything for the Day Care? Lunch or gas
money?"
   "No, Katy's giving me a free month of day care until I'm back on
my feet. I've got plenty of gas and others at the shop have been
feeding me at lunch."
   "Good enough, just be sure the one's treating you to lunch won't
expect favors you don't want to give." She just smiled, ever so
slightly and raised an eyebrow at me. "If you need anything before
Friday, let me know." She reached across the table and squeezed
my hand as her eyes misted a little. Then she left the table to finish
dressing.

   Forty-five minutes later the twins were at the bus stop, Debbie
was on her way to work and I was climbing into the Service Van,
clipboard loaded with the day's stops and the shopping list.

   As usual, for that time of year - mid May, I rolled in about 9:00, a
little after sunset. I would be working 12 - 14 hours daily six days a
week for at least five more weeks. I really didn't expect to interfere
with the girls lives much before they had enough to get their own
place again. When I walked in and set the shopping bags on the
kitchen counter Hannah hurried out of the living room, already
dressed for bed, and started diving into the bags until she found the
boxes of Tampons. "Thank God," she said heading for the
bathroom. As she walked away, I noticed the edges of a folded
paper towel sticking from the back of her thong panties.
   Walking into the living room I found Debbie and Rachael also
dressed for bed. Surprisingly, the TV was tuned to TNT for WCW
Nitro. Goldberg was doing a spear on one of the newer no-names
preparatory to putting him down for the count. Debbie got up from
the couch to hug me hello, but had to stop and stretch first. After
the hug I looked at her and said, "Back?"
   "Yeah." Debbie had broken her tailbone in a childhood accident.
As a result, when she was overtired or during times of extreme
stress, her back would bother her. Taking her hand I moved to the
couch and sat near the edge with my knees spread. Pointing to the
floor between my legs, I said simply, "Sit." Debbie sat on the floor
between my legs and I spent the next fifteen minutes massaging her
back. Rachael kept shifting her attention between the wrestling on
the television and me rubbing her mother's back, neck and
shoulders. Hannah too was interested when she emerged from the
bathroom and sat on the other end of the couch.
   After I was done, I placed my hands under her elbows and gently
lifted. Debbie shifted her weight into my palms and I helped lift her
to her feet. "Better?"
   "Much, thank you. Want some dinner?"
   "I grabbed a burger and some fries an hour ago. I'm all right.
   What I need, is a shower and a little relaxation."
   Debbie wrinkled her nose and said, "Especially the shower."
   "Smart ass," I remarked as I got to my feet and headed to my
bedroom for underwear and sweat pants. "Next time I might rub
you the wrong way."
   "Not possible," her voice pitched to follow me as I moved about
my bedroom. "I've never taken exception to or been offended by
anything you've ever said or done. Not a single thing."
   "What about when you were 11 and I paddled you in front of
your girlfriend?" I called back. "As I remember it, you didn't speak
to me for the rest of that visit."
   "I was afraid to talk to you after that. I was so positive you were
furious and hated me for knocking over your motorcycle. I just
knew I'd really disappointed you and you'd never have anything to
do with me, ever again. Besides, I'd seen the way you were looking
at Donna (her sister) and I was jealous. When you left without
specifically saying goodbye to me, I just knew I was right about
your hating me. I was miserable for three months, until I received
that Kimono and birthday card from you."
   "I'd almost forgotten that," I said as I stepped back into the room.
   "I never asked, did you like it? Although it probably did fit you like
a full kimono, it was actually an oriental smoking jacket."
   "Mama," chimed in Rachael. "Is that the blue and purple one you
keep in the bottom of your underwear drawer?"
Blushing furiously Debbie said, "Yes, dear. That's the very one
your Uncle Doug gave to me all those years ago."
   "Why don't you ever wear it, Mama?" asked Hannah. "All you
ever do is wash it by hand every couple of months and then put it
away again."
   "I used to wear it all the time, though it was way too big for me.
When I first got it, I even wore it to school and slept in it at night.
When I'd had it about six months, I was wearing it in the kitchen
one night and put a small tear in it. I cried for hours. Your
Grandma sewed it up for me, and she did it so carefully that it's
almost invisible. I've never worn it since. I promised myself I would
keep it and care for it and never again wear it except for your Uncle
Doug, so he could see me in his special gift."
   Both girls had moved and were sitting cross-legged on the floor,
engrossed in their mother's words. As I turned to head for my
shower, Rachael asked, "Did you?"
   "Did I what, dear?"
   "Did you ever wear it for Uncle Doug, like you wanted?"
   "Not yet, dear. Sometimes I would forget until after his visit was
over, sometimes there were other things happening and the time
didn't seem right. Finally, I got old enough that the idea seemed a
little childish. No, I never have."

   After my shower, I stepped back into the living room to relax and
watch a little tube, cigarettes and Zippo in one hand, soda pop in
the other. It was just after 10:00 and Debbie said, "All right girls,
he's back . . . it's time for bed . . . you promised."
   At her words, both girls got up from the floor and came over to
stand on either side of me. They both hugged me at the same time,
each kissed a cheek and together they chorused "Good Night,
Uncle Doug. Thank you. We love you." Then they were off to the
far end of the house and their bedroom. I moved to my favorite
recliner and sat back to enjoy the last 40 minutes of wrestling
before the news and weather would come on at 11. Debbie sat
quietly on the sofa, eating potato chips and sipping a glass of ice
water until the baby stirred. Debbie gathered up a towel and the
baby then approached the recliner. "Make Room," were her only
words.
   I moved to the left in my seat and raised my right arm to the side.
She slid in beside me, snuggling up under my arm and tight against
me before opening her nursing bra. She carefully positioned little
Susan in the slight valley created by our cuddled bodies. Our
positions, the slight angle of the chair, and the baby's own weight
kept her in the perfect position for suckling without having to be
held. Once the baby was feeding, Debbie relaxed into me. Her left
hand resting on my right thigh, her right hand pulled my right arm
down around her shoulder and held my hand comfortably between
her breasts.
   I was reminded of so many previous nights, years past, when we
used to sit just this way (only without the baby) while she was
growing up. From my very first visit when she was five, right up
until the night before her wedding we would sit just this way,
relaxed, watching television and enjoying the simple contact of the
cuddle. We used to sit like this, usually with everyone else in the
house already asleep, until she would fall asleep. Then I would
carry her to her room and put her to bed, always kissing her
forehead and saying, "Sleep well my love," before returning to the
sofa where I slept during my visits.
   "I've missed this so," she remarked. "Why did we ever stop sitting
this way?"
   "You got married. I doubt Eric, her husband, would have
understood."
   "No, you're right. He never would have accepted something like
this . . . but I was always so comfortable this way. I never
remember going to my bed, but I always woke up there. Did you
put me to bed?"
   "Every single time. Your mother used to give me such dirty looks
sometimes, whenever she saw us sitting this way. She never said
anything, I think she always trusted me, but the looks were a
warning."
   "She only said anything to me once, when I was twelve or
thirteen, about it not being lady-like with someone who wasn't my
boyfriend or my father. When was the last time we sat this way?"
   "The night before you married Eric, when you were 19. You'd
had such a hectic day that you'd changed into a T-shirt and loose
shorts and cuddled next to me to relax for a few minutes before
taking your shower. I think you were asleep within ten minutes. I
carried you up to bed and thought I was going to wake you up
getting those shorts off you. With the lights off in your room, I
didn't realize you'd left your panties off until I had the shorts below
your knees. I tucked you in, kissed you goodnight and went back
downstairs for a last cup of coffee with your mother. I think she
was more nervous about your wedding day than you were. She
cried and we talked for hours after you were in bed."
   "Want to hear something funny?"
   "What?"
   "I was so sure of what I was doing . . . so positive that Eric was
THE one . . . I never had a doubt about my choices . . . until you
showed up during my bachelorette party the day before the
wedding. You walked in, got yourself a beer from the refrigerator
and sat down in a room full of young women and the atmosphere
was one of complete ease within fifteen minutes. Not one of those
girls was uneasy about you being there. Most of them were saying
things that they would normally never say in front of a boy.
Somehow, you made the party so much better."
   "Well, half of those girls had known me, through you, for a few
years."
   "Did you know that they were voting on jumping you and trying
to get in your pants before the night ended?"
   "That might have been fun . . . why didn't they?"
   "I pointed out how tired you were and said if they jumped you,
without warning, while you were that tired, someone might get
hurt."
   "Spoilsport."
   "But, the funny part is that the minute you walked through the
door and said 'Hello, Ladies.' I had my first doubts about marrying
Eric. By the end of the night, or at any time up until the actual
wedding, had you said even one word, I would have called it all off.
Isn't that funny?"
   "Not funny 'ha-ha', it's not."
   "But, it's true. Oh, I've missed this so much," she said again,
snuggling closer still, Susan shifting slightly as she moved, but
never losing the teat from her mouth. "My only regret, during all
those years, was that you weren't there beside me when I woke up,
so I could hug you close and hold you."
   "Debbie was asleep, breathing softly, within fifteen minutes.
Susan finished nursing in another five, and was starting to drowse
where she lay. I gently disengaged my arm and lowered the chair to
a seating position. Setting Susan in my lap and leaning her forward
into my palm, I gently patted her back until she burped, cleaned her
up and laid her in her mothers lap. Carefully scooping the two up
together I carried them into Deb's bedroom and laid them on the
bed. I put Susan in her crib and kissed her forehead, saying "Sleep
tight little angel." For Debbie I resealed her nursing bra and tucked
her in. A kiss on the forehead and I said, "Goodnight, my love,"
before closing the door and returning to my chair to watch the
news.
   It was about three o'clock when I woke up and realized I wasn't
alone in my room. Opening my eyes, the faint light from the
windows revealed Debbie standing next to my bed, watching me
while Susan again nursed at her breast, the right one this time.
   "Yes?" was all I said.
   "Move over!" I moved to my right and she crawled in on my left
side, again snuggling close and laying Susan so she was supported
by both and nursing on her own. Debbie was asleep again almost
immediately, and a few minutes later, I too fell asleep the only
sounds in the room the soft suckling sounds of Susan nursing.

   When I woke again, it was at 5:00 AM. Debbie was sleeping on
her left side and had backed against me, my arm under her neck she
was holding my forearm with both hands. Susan was sleeping
squarely in the center of my chest and had just filled her diaper. It
was a combination of some excess fluids flowing across my
stomach and the unmistakable odors that had wakened me.
Taking Susan and disengaging my left arm I gently rolled off the
right side of the bed and carried her to her mother's room. After
changing her diapers and rocking her back to sleep, it was 5:45, too
late to return to bed.
   I made a pot of coffee and had just seated myself at the table
when Hannah walked through heading for the bathroom. Three
minutes later, she was passing back through when she suddenly
changed course and sat in my lap. Putting her arms around my neck
she rested her head on my shoulder and said "Good morning." I
was quiet putting one hand loosely around her back and sipping my
coffee.
   Five minutes later, I was carrying the sleeping girl back to the
double bed she and her sister were currently sharing. After gently
putting her to bed, I kissed both foreheads and softly told them,
"It's almost morning, my sweets. Wake up rested." Returning to the
kitchen I drew a fresh cup of coffee.
   Twenty minutes later alarms started going off around the house.
One of the few advantages to being my own boss and running a
service truck, was that I could calmly sit and enjoy my coffee, while
the others fought for the bathroom and the shower. I sat back,
sipped and enjoyed the show, female bodies bumping into one
another, trying to crowd around the bathroom mirror (the only one
in the house), arguing over who got the hair dryer first. I moved the
coffee carafe to a hot pad and started a second pot. Grabbing a note
pad, I started making notes to myself as I watched the madness
around me. Twenty-five minutes later I was joined at the table by
three attractive women, mostly dressed, discussing their day ahead
and asking what time I would be home.
   "It depends . . . If parts I've ordered are at the supply house
when I arrive, I'll be late, after dark. If the parts aren't in, I'll be
earlier. I can't put an hour to it. I never know exactly how long a
job will take until I get there."
   "Hannah and I want to see more of you," pouted Rachael. "I
know Momma does too. She was telling us so many stories about
you last night and since we're going to be all together for a while . .
. we were thinking we could finally learn more about you and do
things together . . . "
   " . . . Yeah!! We've always loved your visits and wished to see
you more often. Momma never could tell us why you didn't stop by
more, or why we didn't all do more together. We never knew there
was any friction with Keith, but we did know that Mom really liked
your visits. She was always so happy when you came by."
   "Well, after last night, you now have your answers. As for my
work schedules, I'm fully booked for the next three weeks. The
only way I'll get time off, is if it rains, then I'll be behind and will
have to work even harder playing catch-up. It will rain, I will get
behind, I will play catch-up, and just when I get caught up, it'll rain
again. Happens every year . . . but it's part of what I do. Tell you
what, when do you two get out of school for the summer?"
   "June 8th."
   "Okay, Debbie, I'm going to block off the 12th and 13th of June
in my schedule book and half days for the 10th and 11th - in case I
need catch-up time. That's just over three weeks from now. You
tell them at work that you need those two days off, and we'll all
make it like a weekend, even though it will be mid-week. Sound
good to everyone?"
   "Yes," they all chorused. "But what will we be doing?" asked
Debbie.
   "Leave that to me, I have a few ideas along those lines. I do want
you to do one thing for me though, Call Chuck and see if he will
care for Susan for those two days. I'm sure he'd love to have his
niece over, unless you'd rather make other arrangements. This
'weekend' will be just for us four 'big kids', okay?"
   "If it was an actual weekend, Chuck would be happy to, but mid-
week I don't know if he can. I'll make some arrangements, though."
   "Good, if it means extra money, I'll cover it. I'll say this once,
and only once . . . between now and then, I won't answer any
question about what we're going to do or where we are going to
be. You will all find out when things happen until then, it's for me
to know and you to not worry about. If it turns out good, and we
decide to try this again, then I may let one of you plan the next one
. . . we'll see how things go. I will say only one thing, though, plan
on casual dress, plan on some indoor - air conditioned activities and
some outdoor activities. Now, girls, I think it's time for everyone to
get ready to leave, don't you?"

   As luck would have it, Friday afternoon turned into a rain-out.
About one o'clock the rains started. I tried simply sitting them out
in my truck, but listening to the radio I found that they were
expected to last the remainder of the day.
   On the way home I made stops at K-Mart, Target, a Drug Store
and a Hardware, but was still walking into the house by 2:20. Long
ago, I'd learned that shopping by a list saved time.
   Walking into the house I had my arms full of purchases. Knowing
that the twins weren't due from school until after 3:30 and
since most of the purchases were for their room, I nudged open
their bedroom door and walked right in, without knocking or
announcing myself. As it turned out, Rachael had come home early
from school, a girlfriend had driven her home and dropped her off.
   Stepping into the room both she and I ended up surprised and
embarrassed. There she was, on the bed, half propped by a pillow
against the headboard, naked as a jaybird. Her heals were locked
behind her shoulders her mouth hung open slack-jawed and her
eyes were glazed as she stared intently at her left hand sliding a
medium-thick, vibrator in and out of her swollen cunt. She had a
long vibrating anal probe in her right hand, between her thumb and
forefinger, guiding the tip of it across her distended clitoris as she
pinched and rolled her right nipple between her pinky finger and the
heel of her hand.
   At the movement of the door, she turned her face towards me,
but she wasn't seeing clearly yet. It was obvious that she was on the
threshold of an orgasm, one that she must have been building to for
a while. Small beads of sweat sat like a fine mist across her upper
lip. Her chest and cheeks were flushed and her normally light tan
freckles were darkened to an almost dark brown. Her nipples were
a deep reddish brown color and standing firm. Her hair was matted
across her shoulders and her eyelids were more than half closed. As
she turned, a small vibration passed through her body and her feet
and toes started to curl against the pillow behind her as her body
stiffened in place. Her eyelids closed completely for a moment. Her
hands never missed a stroke, and her head kept turning in my
direction.
   My initial momentum carried me a full three steps into the room
before I could stop myself. I was standing next to an entertainment
center-turned dresser, and hastily began placing my bundles on it
as her eyes finally cleared and she focused on me . . .
   "Uncle Doug!!!" Immediately behind that came the realization of
how she wasn't dressed and what she was doing. "I . . . oh! . . . I . .
. I . . . Oh shit! . . ."
   I turned for the door and started to leave, but paused for one last
look at her. She had tried to cover herself with her hands, dropping
the anal probe and draping her right arm across her chest. Her left
hand she'd placed flat across her pussy and ass, with two immediate
effects: she had completely jammed the entire vibrator into herself,
to the hilt, and she had accidentally turned in to full when she did
so, as indicated by the increased noise it made. I'm guessing that it
hit her cervix as it slipped completely inside, because her eyes
suddenly sprang open and her whole body jerked into a sudden
spasm.
   "Let me know when you're done. I have a few more things to get
from the truck, then I have some work to do in here," I commented
as I walked out the door.
   Three trips and ten minutes later, everything was out of the truck
that I needed. Try as I might not to, I kept replaying the scene in
the bedroom through my mind. Rachael and her sister were HOT, I
had already known that, but now I really KNEW it. As a result, I
was sporting a raging hard-on, easily visible through my jeans. It
would pass as I worked.
   Rachael came out of the bedroom in loose shorts and T-shirt as I
placed the last items on the floor outside the bedroom door. Her
head was hanging and tears were freely flowing down her face. Her
knees still seemed a little wobbly as she walked.
   "Uncle Doug, I'm sorry . . ."
   "For what? It wasn't your fault. I didn't expect anyone home, or I
would have knocked."
   "But, what I was doing . . . I . . ."
   "So what?" I took her hand and led her to the kitchen table.
Pushing her down in a chair I put my fingers under her chin and
raised her face until she was forced to look in my eyes. "Rachael,
do you think you're the only woman who has ever masturbated? Or
used sex toys while doing it?"
   "But, I know it's wrong . . ."
   "Bullshit!! Everyone has needs. Every person on the planet has
desires and let's say 'pressures' that sometimes need satisfying. They
come more frequently and more strongly for some than for others,
but everyone gets them. If you don't have a partner to help you,
then it's perfectly normal to take care of things yourself. What you
were doing was not hurting anyone . . . you don't have diseases to
worry about this way . . . and you don't need to worry about babies
. . . you did nothing wrong!!"
   "But it's so embarrassing," she said again starting to drop her
eyes. They stopped with her looking at my crotch and the obvious
shape of my rigid member through my jeans. Her hand, seeming of
it's own accord, reached out and the tips of her fingers traced the
outline through my pants. Until I took a step back, out of reach.
"Did I do that?"
   "Rachael, seeing you like that would have done this to any
normal man."
   "It seems so big . . . does it hurt, confined like that?"
   "It'll pass . . . as long as you quit trying to touch it. THAT
doesn't help matters any. As I work, it will relax. Are you feeling a
little better now?"
   "Yes, I'm okay. You said you needed to work in our room. What
are you going to do?"
   "I bought some full length mirrors and a few other things for
yours and your mother's room. So you'll all be able to dress and see
yourselves without fighting over one little mirror in the mornings. I
plan to hang the mirrors and put a plug just below each for your
hair dryers. I also bought material for putting framed lights beside
each mirror for better lighting. Since I'm rained out for the rest of
the day, I thought I'd put it all up today."
   "Can I help?"
   "If you want to. Have you ever used a hammer or other tools?"
   "Not really. Just hanging a picture or two. But I'm willing to
learn."
   Digging my keys out of my pocket I selected one and said, "This
is the key for the garage. Do you know what a level looks like?"
she nodded. "Good. At the end of my workbench are some five
gallon pails. Take one and fill it with . . ." I told her what tools and
boxes to bring from the garage, where each one was located, what
the ones she didn't know looked like, and she was out the door.
   For the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening, we
worked in both bedrooms, positioning the mirrors, mounting track
style wiring guides along the baseboards, putting in electrical plugs
and mounting lights and switches. Hannah and then Debbie joined
in the work when they each arrived home. We worked until just
before 10:00 PM, stopping only for a sandwich dinner about 6:30
and to occasionally play with and tend to Susan, usually taking
turns, rotating the work and breaks. But finally, we were finished
and all three women were satisfied with the results. Then it was me
for the shower.
   Over the sounds of the water, I heard the girls making multiple
trips back and forth through the house. Things were thumping and
there was much giggling, but voices were hushed and I guessed I
wasn't meant to hear what was going on, so I ignored it.
   Each girls in turn had their chance in the bath. As she waited her
turn, Debbie sat on the couch and, using a breast pump, expressed
two baby bottles of milk, which she placed in the refrigerator. Then
took her shower last, until finally, just before 11:00 we were all
gathered before the TV, which the twins had claimed control of and
tuned to MTV. As had become her habit, since the second night of
their stay, Debbie came out ready for bed, a towel wrapped around
her still damp hair. Walked over to my lounger and said, "Make
room." As she snuggled into position, I thought Rachael was giving
her mother a slightly jealous look.
   Our eyes briefly met. She realized she'd been caught and blushed
furiously for long seconds, a look of contrition on her face as she
turned back to the TV.
   We sat like that for the next thirty minutes, with me reclaiming
control of the TV long enough to watch tomorrow's weather.
Rachael and Hannah were lounging sideways across the couch,
their legs tucked up and feet just touching in the center, Debbie
resting comfortably against me. After the weather, I tossed the
remote to Hannah, again relinquishing control of the television.
   She caught it deftly with her right hand, but as she raised her arm
to do so, her muscle T-shirt shifted and her left breast fell through
the arm hole as it stretched upwards. She balanced the remote on
her hip and started reaching across herself to readjust her shirt, then
caught me looking. Wrinkling her nose, she stuck out her tongue at
me, then blushed as she covered herself again. Shortly after I
excused myself and went to bed. Soon hearing movement and soft
giggles as the girls went off to their own beds.
   It was ten minutes or so later when there was a soft knock on my
bedroom door. It slowly opened and Debbie was standing there
wearing the Kimono smoking jacket I had given her all those years
ago. Her hair she had pulled behind her into a ponytail. The colors
of the Jacket were a little duller than I remembered, but otherwise it
seemed to be in almost perfect condition. It was made of a black
satin material, but was covered with hand embroidered tigers,
dragons, flowers, and Japanese characters for luck and long life. All
in shimmery, satiny threads in bright blues and purples. On her, it
ended a few inches above her knees. Belted tightly at her waist it
both accentuated and partly obscured her petite figure. She looked
positively sexy and alluring.
   "Well, what do you think?" she asked, striking a pose against the
door jamb.
   "Nice, very nice."
   She slowly undid the belt, never taking her eyes from mine. As
the belt fell free she slowly, smoothly opened the robe wide. The tip
of her tongue came out to rest on her upper lip, playing slowly in
and out across it. She was fully nude beneath the jacket. Her high,
still firm 32 breasts barely sagged, though they were heavy with the
milk they now carried. Her waist narrowed in a smooth taper until
the curve of her hips arced around into perfectly matched,
symmetrically sculpted legs. Yes, they ran all the way to 'there'.
   Unlike her daughter's quarter sized patch of fine red hairs, Debbie's
bush was just that, a mature heavier thatch of duller red hair,
trimmed in a well defined triangle that was almost six inches across
at the top and fully a hand's width in height from her vagina. Her
nipples were fully erect, each with a small moist glisten at the tip.
Her labia were clean shaven and prominent, obviously swollen with
excitement. A small dark separation could just be seen near the top,
where her clitoris held them apart. She stood like that for a long
moment, robe held wide and creating a satiny backdrop as she
displayed herself for me. She has always had that ultra sensitive skin
so many redhead's seem to have, so she avoids tanning and excess
exposure to the sun. The result was that of an Ivory goddess
against the black of the jacket's lining.
   Finally, she dropped the jacket behind her to the hallway floor
and slowly turned completely around, showing off her still tight
high ass and the curve of her back for me. When she was facing me
again she said, "Well, what do you think?"
   I didn't answer her with words. I got out of the bed on the far
side and stripped off my few clothes, slowly turning a complete
circle for her as well. As I did, my cock, already half hard, was
obviously becoming more and more erect. When I faced her again
she was smiling at me and made an exaggerated gesture out of
licking her lips. I climbed back under the covers and, laying on my
side and raised on my elbow, I raised the covers on her side of the
bed in invitation. She stepped in, closing the door behind her
leaving the kimono on the floor outside.
   As she slid into the bed I asked only one thing, "Susan?"
   "The girls have her."
   "Planned this all out, did you?"
   "Oh yes," she said, wrapping her arms around my chest she
pulled herself tightly to me, molding herself to my body from top to
bottom. Wrapping one leg behind mine, she hugged me with her
entire body and kissed me long and hard, demandingly. There was
no real gentleness to what was happening . . . no softness or
romantic slow starts now. This was lust, need . . . pure want. We
held that position for a long minute. Locked together from our
opened mouths to our legs. Tongues acting like attacking, charging
vipers. First spearing in, then trying to wrap around and constrict
each other. My prick came to full attention as my right hand
moved freely between her buttocks and her neck, sliding quickly,
firmly up and down her back, fingers outlining her spine as they
moved.
   She broke the kiss, not I. I would gladly have stayed in that one
position for a longer time. So much was being communicated, so
much expressed in that simple pleasurable contact. We were telling
each other things in that long minute that would require volumes of
words to express. We were communicating things which no amount
of words could ever say. It spoke of needs and desires long
suppressed. Of passions and love never told. It felt of two souls
expressing what both had long known was there, between them, but
had never before dared to admit. Passing from one to the other then
back again, intensifying and increasing as the message passed again,
and again, then again once more.
   She began slowly sliding herself down my body. Almost I
stopped her, to return to the embrass just broken, but I held myself
in check. This was Debbie's show. She was the initiator and I felt it
would be important that she retain control at this point.
   Short as she was, when her head was even with mine, her pelvis
was level with my navel. As she broke the kiss with my lips, she bit
them, hard, with her teeth holding them as she started sliding south.
releasing the lower lip only when she had to. She immediately
kissed my jaw and alternately kissed and nibbled her way to my
chin, where she once again bit hard. Pausing, she sucked on my
chin as she arched her back and ground her pelvis into my belly. In
a matter of seconds, a strong quiver passed through her.
   My cock surged, jerked and pulsed, pulling tighter into my
stomach and coming to rest against her swollen labia. With a wiggle
of her hips, a slight shifting right and left as she straightened her
back again, her labia parted slightly and my cock slid through the
moisture gathered there straight to the opening of her vagina no
further guidance necessary. Debbie slid an inch further down,
transferring her ministrations to my neck and throat as the head of
my cock slid slowly into her. Another shift and she was biting my
shoulder as hard as she could . . . another inch gone. A shift of her
weight and I was rolled onto my back as she kissed and nibbled her
way down my chest, her lips and teeth coming to rest on my right
nipple as the last of my cock slid into her, the tip just touching her
cervix.
   "Oh Christ," she said, raising her head to look into my eyes. "We
fit so perfectly together. Just like I always knew and imagined we
would. Oh, I feel so perfectly filled . . . it's so wonderful. I want to
stay just like this, fall asleep with all of you inside me, hard and hot,
feeling your heartbeat through my vagina."
   "You can if you want to Debbie. I can wait until later to go
further . . ."
   "Well, I can't." she said, suddenly putting her hands into my chest
and pushing herself upright. "I've waited and dreamed of this for
too long to delay it now. We'll save that idea for another time."
Squeezing hard with her vaginal muscles, she raised herself about
seven inches, until only the head remained inside her, and suddenly
slammed herself down onto me, hips slapping against my own. She
was so hot, so wet and so in control of her muscles I didn't know
how long I could last with this fire-haired vixen rapidly pounding
into my hips. "I . . . need . . . it . . . all . . . now," she said timing
her
words with her thrusts. "I've . . . had . . . wet . . . panties . . . since
.
. . we . . .moved in!! I've . . . mastur . . . bated . . . three . . . times
.
. . at . . . work . . . this . . . week."
   She shuddered suddenly, her muscles suddenly spasming, her
vagina milking my shaft as her arms trembled and gave way. I
grabbed a tit in each hand and squeezed hard, supporting her
weight as another shudder passed through her and her breathing
caught for long moments, her fluids squeezing out around my cock
flowing through my pubic hair and around my balls.
   As her muscles began to relax I lowered her down atop me,
wrapped my arms around her and rolled us both over, putting her
on the bottom, as her eyes finally opened again.
   It was time to take some control. Her eyes sparkled and smiled as
brightly as her mouth. I reached down and pulled her legs up beside
me, her knees locked into my elbows. Placing my hands beside her,
I began thrusting, slowly at first, but quickening until I was taking
full hard plunges into her. As fast as I could I pounded into her and
found myself starting to push her across the bed. She stared up into
my eyes, smiling widely, soft "unhs" sounding in her throat. She
reached above her head bracing her hands against the wall to hold
herself in position as I continued my attack on her sensitive pussy.
   "You started this," I said, "and we've reached the point I have to
finish things." As I plumbed her depths, I was able to shift my dives
within her, by shifting the position of my hands, or moving my hips
slightly from side to side. Pulling my hands forward, I raised the
angle of her hips so I was thrusting from the bottom of her opening,
upwards along the front of her canal and across the sensitive nerve
bundle called the G-spot. Moving my hands down and pushing
forward on my toes, and I was pushing almost straight down into
her from the front of her pussy, thrusting into her along the
membranes dividing her canal and bowels, pushing across the nerve
bundle located there. Each move designed to provide her with
different sensations, further stimulations . . . it must have had the
desired effect, because she was shuddering and shaking almost
continuously below me.
    As I was continually shifting and changing the assault, I was
watching her below me, gauging her reactions, her body's reactions,
to what I was doing. I had hit my stride, regained some manner of
control. I had been thrusting steadily for about five minutes and felt
I had at least another five or ten minutes left in me before release.
    Below me, she was becoming a sweating almost quivering mass,
seeming to be locked into a cycle of one orgasm after another, each
seeming to add fire to the next. Sweat was pouring from her,
trickling across her temples and into her now plastered hair. Her
ears were bright red while her cheeks were pasty, almost bloodless.
Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes as she gulped for air like
a drowning person. Her chest and shoulders were flushed while her
freckles had gone almost white. Her chest heaved, breasts swaying
almost in complete circles as we moved. Mothers milk seeped
continuously from her distended nipples, running down the insides
of her breasts and joining the sweat there to form a solid stream of
fluids between them.
    The muscles in her stomach rippled and moved, expanding and
contracting as she moved to meet me thrust for thrust. The muscles
of her vagina didn't really grip and relax as they had earlier, but
seemed to have settled into a constant unceasing flutter around my
invading dick. Causing myriad butterfly sensations, first here, then
there, always in two or three places at once, but never seeming to
be in the same place twice. Her fluids flowed out around me
continuously, unceasingly.
    It was all delicious, and except for the gasping breathing, the soft
almost silent grunts in each of our throats and the wet puddle
slapping sounds as our pelvis' came together, it was silent. Words
weren't necessary, this time. Our eyes were locked together and we
were happy with ourselves and each other. We continued . . . and
continued . . . and continued until finally she had another big one.
Everything went rigid and her muscles clamped down hard again, a
violent shake passing through her body.
    I had been on automatic pilot by that time, I had reached that
place inside myself where I can essentially last and last, but the
sudden, unexpected change in sensation was all it took, and I too
reached orgasm, emptying myself deep within her as I collapsed
atop her, barely able to hold my weight off of her with my hands,
and not quite folding her eighty pound frame completely in half
with my almost 200 pound body.
   As soon as I was able to control my position better, I released
her legs, and she immediately wrapped them around my waist.
Hooking her ankles together and wrapping her arms once again
around my chest, pulling herself up to once again suckle at my
chest and nipples, holding me inside herself and refusing to release
me from her womb. My arms were tired and I tried to roll over
onto my side, but she used our combined weight to continue the
roll until I was once again on my back.
    We lay that way for long minutes, catching our breath and
composing ourselves, slowly coming down from our mutual flights.
My dick, still hard, throbbing gently within her while I, in turn felt
her heartbeat and breathing slow as much through the membrane
surrounding my member, as through the contact of chest on chest.
Finally, she raised her head and pushed herself up onto her hands,
saying, "You're still hard? After all that?"
   "Yeah, he's got a mind of his own. Once he's awake, he doesn't
like to go back to sleep for awhile. It'll soften sometime later
tonight, after I'm asleep. It's always been that way. It'll stay hard
until I'm either asleep, or I get up and start moving around for a
while. Feels good, just were he is, don't you think?"
    "Mmm. It was all just so perfect, tonight, though next time, I
would like to try something softer, more romantic, I think. But, for
tonight, I want to find out two more things before we go to sleep.
Besides, I think I would like to rinse us both down a bit, so we're
not sleeping in puddles or sticking together. what say we sleep in
my bed tonight?"
    "Okay with me, as long as we're both there together."
    We disengaged and moved to the bathroom first, where Debbie
used a damp wash cloth to clean the sweat and fluids from both of
us, sitting on the toilet and peeing as she turned me first one way
then the other, wiping down most of my torso and legs refusing to
allow me to help.
    Finally, turning me to face her she took my still rigid cock in her
left hand and slid her lips around it, pushing forward until I hit the
back of her throat. Pulling back for a moment she adjusted her
angle and pushed forward again, the head first hitting, then sliding
past and into her throat. She didn't stop until her nose was
completely buried in my pubic hair. Even then, she pushed forward
and shifted her head a little, working her tongue against the
underside of my cock, slowly extending it more and more until her
tongue slid past her teeth, further down my shaft to the top of my
ball sack.
    She froze in that position, Just the very tip of her tongue moving
against my sack. Some how, she was able to breathe through her
nose. and she did so as she slowly began to milk my cock with her
throat muscles. She didn't swallow, not really, simply flexed her
throat muscles in a rhythm that produced sensations I hadn't felt but
once before in all my 48 years. I blew my cork for a second time,
and she'd done it in less than three minutes.
    "Like I said before," after pulling her head back and licking the
last sparkling drops from my dick slit. "A perfect fit. Just like I
always knew and dreamed it would be when I was growing up.
That was one of the two things I had to find out yet, Only one more
to go." Her smile was beaming, but gave nothing away. She cleaned
herself then, finally allowing me help her when it came to cleaning
her back.
    In her bedroom she took care to position me 'just so' on her bed,
put on a pair of socks, and retrieved a tube of moisturizing cream
from her night stand. Putting a big dab on her palm, she wrapped
her hands around my still rigid cock and jacked it a few times,
smearing cream all over it. She put a big dab on two finger tips and
reached behind herself for a moment, before finally sliding into the
bed and pulling the top sheet up over us. She rolled so she was
facing away from me and slid back into my chest. Reaching
between her legs she took my dick in her hand and pulled the tip to
the entrance of her rectum. Reaching behind me she cupped my butt
cheeks and said, "Stay still, let me do this." She pulled, flexing her
hips once and shifting one leg slightly. She pulled herself back onto
me and me into her in one smooth fluid motion. She wriggled her
hips again and pulled forward more firmly against my buttocks,
until she had every centimeter of me she could squeeze in. She
relaxed back into me, pulling my left arm forward to use as her
pillow.
    "As I said, perfect fit. My last question of the day is answered. I
always knew it would be this way with you. I always dreamed it.
You were the measuring stick against which I rated every man I've
ever known or been with. None ever measured up. None ever fit
like you fit. Everything I know about you, every moment I've ever
had with you, every touch I've ever had from you, has always been
a perfect fit. Tonight, I was a whore. I was your whore. I will
always be yours, and no one else's." I felt tears falling on my arm as
she spoke. A single soft sob shook her body as she spoke.
    "After tonight, no other man will ever have my body, willingly,
except you. No one else will ever own my heart, except you. I will
never marry again, except to you. You were the reason I moved to
Michigan. You were the reason I settled in this area. As of this
moment, I am yours."
    "I decided long ago, Debbie . . . I will never marry."
    "Then I will be your whore. Whether I live here or elsewhere, as
long as you will allow it, I will be yours and I will be happy."
    "As you wish it," I said simply. She kissed the inside of my
forearm, snuggled herself further into me, and fell asleep crying
softly to herself with my hard cock buried in her asshole.

    I didn't move. I didn't think about things for long. She could stay
as long as she liked, I'd told her that when she moved in, without
what had just happened. I loved her deeply and would try to make
her happy. But I was not 'in love' with her and didn't think I would
ever be 'in love' with anyone ever again. My past contained things
never spoken of, never to be spoken of, but they precluded that
kind of love, precluded marriage, from my future. It saddened me
to know I would never be able to give her the true completeness
she desired and probably needed, for I truely did and always would
love this woman.
    I too was happy, or as happy as I could ever be.
    Soon, I too was asleep.

(More to come??)

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