Message-ID: <30953asstr$992869805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <ray1031@cac.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <002201c0f7c9$d7949520$93335ad8@ray1031> From: "Ray" <ray1031@cac.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} First Post "Crowded House" by Ray1031 (M/F f-Solo/toys Rom?) Date: Mon, 18 Jun 2001 09:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/30953> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge 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??) -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+