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Subject: {ASSM} The Ad, Chapters 3 and 4, respectively - Dad/son/stepmom incest
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<1st attachment, "thead3.txt" begin>
The Ad, Chapter 3
by
PlanetDweller
(MF, romance, M/F/young teen, dad/son, dad/son/stepmom, menstrual
sex, light DSBD)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Standard Disclaimer & Legal Stuff: The following story is adult
fiction intended for private reading by adults over eighteen (18)
years of age ONLY or a higher age if required by the political
jurisdiction where you reside...if you are under eighteen years
of age, you are required to exit now from your browser if
accessing through a communications network or delete this file if
accessing it through a local disk system...the following story
depicts sexual acts which if they were perpetrated in real life
would be against the law in all countries and localities; if
merely possessing descriptions of sexual acts which would be
against the law if committed in "real life" is against the law in
the political jurisdiction where you live, you are required to
exit access from this story and/or delete this story
immediately...the following story is a work entirely fictitious
and the characters, names, places, dates, acts depicted etc. bear
no resemblance to any persons living or dead or events and acts
which may or may not have taken place at some point in
time....the author who is using the pseudonym above retains all
rights of publication to this story...individual readers of legal
age my freely possess this story and distribute it to other
readers of legal age on a strict non-commercial basis...storage
of this story on any commercial website or by any other means of
storage and retrieval for commercial purposes is strictly
prohibited without written consent of the originating author.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our dating pattern consisted of once-a-weeker's or so for the
next couple of months. I could tell Sandy still was going through
the grieving stages over his now longer-deceased wife, his
protestations to the contrary. And he could tell that while I was
definitely falling in love with him, I had my own past defensive
walls to chip away at, and didn't push things. Sigh.
His 12-year-old son, Greg, was becoming more a part of our mutual
lives, too. I thought it odd when Sandy asked me some dates into
our budding relationship if he could bring Greg along, especially
on basically non-romantic ones like going out in public to the
movies or out to a lesser-expensive restaurant, but after the
first time or two I didn't mind, mainly because Greg was so
mannerful and respectful of me. Just like his father.
The first time Sandy and I slept over at his place on weeknight,
I admit it was a little weird having Greg in the house,
especially when I would hear him as he'd get up in the middle of
the night to use the bathroom at the end of the hall which was
next to Sandy's master bedroom, I always insisting of us stopping
if we were making love so Greg wouldn't have any chance of
hearing us until he finished peeing and pittered-pattered back to
his room.
Towards months three and four of our growing romance, we all were
so comfortable with the situation that we invited Greg with us to
a beach trip down at Carolina Beach for the weekend. While there,
Sandy mentioned he knew of a semi-public semi-tolerated nude
beach not too far from The Oceanview Motel where we were staying,
and just blunted out "...do ya' wanna go, Pat?"
I grinned. I couldn't help but giggle. I was hopelessly in love
with the man, but was still trying to hide my feelings a little
from him. Okay, well, a lot from him. But to me, he was THE ONE.
If he had asked me if I had wanted to go eat broken glass covered
with chocolate-covered South American fireants for dinner, I
would have said "sure".
"You mind if Greg goes along with us?"
I gulped h-a-r-d. Then a very pregnant pause as we cuddled
together on our chaiselounge on the elevated oceanview deck
facing the Atlantic just a couple of hundred feet away.
"Shhh...sure, Honey, if that's what you want...sure."
In one way, I really didn't mind. I mean, what twelve-year-old
boy hasn't seen a ton of naked women in Playboys and Penthouses
and such by the time they're that age anyway. But seeing me, his
probable potential stepmom naked, well, that was another story.
"Anything wrong?..." my Dearry asked me, seeing me retreat
inwardly in thought.
"Oh, nothing..." I lied "...it's just that I'm on my period and
all, and I while I don't think I'll mind Greg seeing me nude, I
don't want him seeing evidence of my period..."
"Oh, that won't bother him..."
"...but it will bother ME..." I protested.
"...just wear a tampon, Patty.." calling me that name he knew I
didn't like.
"...but the string'll still show..."
"...so cut the string off, first..."
No use not agreeing with him. "...Okay...you win...we'll all
go..."
We put on our bathing suits for the trip down there. Driving as
close as we could get to it, Sandy ignored the "Fourwheel drive
vehicle only past this point!" sign and scooted on past the
official State Of North Carolina State Park sign and plowed the
borrowed Mercedes convertible from work right on through the
rolled-over foot-high sandruts in the sandy beach road which
wound its way through the dunes like an expert offroad driver,
which I knew he wasn't. "I do know how to drive, Hon'.." he
mumbled in answer to my unspoken question.
Almost but not quite getting stuck once as we headed as far south
as we could away from the "official" part of Ft. Fisher State
Park near the Seaquarium to the northern end of the peninsula,
the sight of the first topless woman told us all that we were in
the unofficial nude beach zone. Greg looked at her but didn't
gawk, acting like he had seen a grown nude woman before, which I
knew he couldn't have.
Another half a mile or so further down two or three vehicles were
congregated together as their respective owners, two or three
nudists families together for an outing, sunned themselves.
"Is this the unofficial nudist area for Ft. Fisher Park?..."
Sandy asked an older and somewhat paunchy middle-aged guy who was
holding a cigar in one hand and a surfcasting rod in the other.
"Yep...you folks here for the sun?..." he replied in semi-code.
"...uh-hu...I'm Sandy, and this is my son Greg and my fiance'
Pat..." he replied. "Fiance' ". I felt a totally pleasant cold
shiver run up my spine and make me slightly "bbbrrrr" shake for a
split-second. My love called me his "fiance' ", even though
neither one had ever proposed to each other. Happy Sigh.
"Nice to meet you folks...I'm Ronald...the only rules are please
no public sex..."
"..don't worry about that!.." I giggled.
"...and..." Ronald's face changing to express irritation with my
attempt at levity "...if you see a red parachute flare shoot up
in the sky, run get your clothes, a red flare means that a Park
Ranger is on his way down here to make us put on our
clothes...don't worry...this has been an unofficial nude beach
since the 60's, and no one's ever been arrested...the only reason
they come down at all is because some prude will accidentally
stumble this far down the island and complain and they'll wander
down here to tell us to cool it for today...okay?...good...have
fun!" he finished, slapping Sandy on his shoulder with a
half-love-tap.
Parking the Mercedes on the hardsand above the hightide line, we
rolled out and set up our little daycamp. First the large beach
umbrella, then a small changing tent, then the cooler, then the
surf fishing gear, then the small charcoal grill, then a small
cooler with the drinks and beers, than finally the lawn chairs
and loungers. Mercedes have big trunks and big backseat areas,
but it's a wonder all of it fit.
Sandy and Greg didn't bother using the changing tent, stripping
off their tee-shirts and swim trunks right then and there after
finishing setting things up. Neither bothered to look in my
direction to see if I was shedding my clothes or not. Greg ran
into the surf with a laugh and a giggle, his member the size of
my Sweetie's flapping in the breeze as he stomped through the
incoming waves before hitting the third row of waves to bodysurf
some. Sandy unfolded a lounger and got himself a beer, motioning
me over to sit with him.
We kissed and cuddled for a few moments as his son played in the
surf. He didn't say a word to me about my shyness, the fact I was
still in my bathing suit. "C'mon..." he motioned as he rose,
nudging me up and off him "...let's go see what seashells we can
find".
Rising with him, I slid the straps off my reasonably sexy
one-piece suit and let it plop to the sand, Sandy reaching and
playfully tweaking a nipple as I bent down to pick up the empty
bucket we had brought just for beachcombing, I in return grabbing
and pulling on his slightly rising cock as I stood back upright.
"What's good for the goose is good for the gander..." I clichéd
him back.
About a quarter-mile down the beach, almost to "The Breakwater"
where the peninsula ended, Greg popped up behind us, crashing out
of the waves. He had been following us just a hundred yards or so
offshore, swimming parallel to us as My Love and I walked
hand-in-hand naked as jaybirds down the sandylane. Splitting
between us, Sandy put his arm around his son's shoulder and
hugged him close to him. I joined our "family" hug, my arm also
going around this handsome specimen of a burgeoning adolescent
male, being careful not to let my breast nearest him touch his
naked chest as we walked akimbo together. Greg would turn to
smile at me as we made smalltalk as we hiked together, looking me
right in the eye and never trying to "cheat" a glance at the rest
of my nakedness. Nakedness, as opposed to my "nudity".
"Strange behavior..." I thought to myself, for a young man on the
throes of approaching manhood, my own glances down at him not
being able not to notice the darkening hair on his pubis "...but
no different, not much at least, from his Dad...just perfect
gentlemen".
Reaching the concrete barrier that separated the Atlantic from
the Cape Fear River, we turned to walked back towards the vehicle
as the overhead creeping sun let it be known that was near
lunchtime already. Greg broke away from us and began splashing in
the waves once more, being the kid he was.
Back at our daycamp, I simply had to change my Tampax. Scooting
into the changing tent to do so in some relative privacy, Sandy
came in and wanted to smooch a little as Greg worked to light the
charcoal in the grill and drag things out of the cooler just a
few feet away from us, but me being me I didn't want to make
noise which I knew he could hear without even trying.
"Wuuuu..why not, Hon'?..."
"Because Greg's just outside, Silly, that's why..."
"Awww, Honey, Greg's heard me and his Mom make love lotsa times,
it won't bother him..."
"...San--d---eeee!!...you can't be serious!..."
"...-uh-hu.." was all he replied as his cock slipped inside my
bleeding pussy, the new Rayvon in my life not caring about my
period one way or the other, his eyes locking lasers on mine, as
I stood with one leg propped up on the beer cooler to do so, my
lover slowly fucking me as we stood together, he embracing me
from behind, my neck craning around to kiss him. Ending up on the
bare sand floor of the partial privacy tent, our passions rose as
our lovemaking became a flat-out fuck, until Greg's banging of a
pot announced to us that he had already mostly cooked oursteaks.
Damn! We were covered with my menstrual fluid from our knees to
our chests. What an incredible fuck we just had. And yes, in the
back of my mind, knowing that Greg was probably listening to us
as My Love and I made love in the three-side-and-a-half tent did
make me hotter. But there was no way I wanted Greg to see such
plainly red evidence of our lovemaking. We couldn't leave the
tent without him seeing us for all we were worth. No way to run
to the waves and wash off, and the jug of icewater was outside
near the grill. Damn. Improvising, Sandy wasted three or four
beers to wash the worst of the pinkish lubrication off, then
taking my hand we darted down the surf with a "be back in a'
gif!" yelled to Greg as he finished getting the paper plates and
plastic silverware out for us. Darting back to the tent from the
surf after we finished our saltwater bath, I fished another
Tampax from my pocketbook. Damn! Forgot to bring scissors to cut
the string so Greg-gy couldn't see it. Fussing about it Sandy, he
just grinned back at me. I felt silly.
Finishing up our naked lunch, with all apologies to William
Burroughs, we headed back to the car, then back to the motel,
then the next day back to Raleigh, a family. Yes, engaged or not,
Not, married or not, Not, not yet to either so far, we became a
family that weekend.
Some weeks later, Sandy invited me to some
get-drunk-and-fall-down pig pickin' barbecue that some friend of
his was having that following Labor Day weekend. I had only been
to a couple of pig pickings, and hated them. But is was Sandy's
friend, and therefor Sandy, so I went with him.
We both got wwwaayyyy too drunk. Jimmy, his friend who was the
host, helped hold me up as I grabbed my knees and wretched my
guts out behind his working equipment barn on the farm outside of
the hamlet of New Hill where the soirée was being held.
"Damn, girl, you need to quit drinkin'" Jimmy half-belched
half-drunken-slurred with breath equally horrible to my pukey one
as I fell to the ground on all fours to finish my involuntary
stomach purge. Helping me to my feet, I gave him a friendly peck
on the cheek and staggered back to the main party area behind
Jimmy's house to find Sandy and ask him if we could leave now.
Driving back up US 1 North heading back to west Raleigh, I made
Sandy stop the car as I half-staggered half-fell to the paved
shoulder, skinning a knee pretty bad before expurgating pure
stomach acid out. As drunk as I was, and as much of a candidate
for a DUI as much as anyone could have been and placing himself
squarely in the line of being seen by a passing Highway
Patrolman, my Gentleman Lover Sandy staggered around to my side
of the car and helped me to feet as best he could.
I kissed him squarely with horribly tasting lips and from
somewhere, where I do not know...well, yes, I do know where, my
unconditional love for this man, this real man that was making my
precious memories of my precious Rayvon from my youth a more
passing memory of my life with each passing day...and without
hesitation blurted out..."Goddamit, Sandy, I LOVE YOU!!!...I want
to MARRY you!...let's go to your place, sober up some, take a
shower, you get some clothes, take to my place and I'll get some
clothes, and then we'll head back down this same highway all the
way to South Carolina and get married today...TODAY!, Sandy,
TODAY!...I'm asking you to marry me, and marry me TODAY!"
If I had pulled out my little snubnosed .38 I usually kept in my
nightstand drawer unless I was going into a rough part of town at
night at which time was usually stuck in my purse and shot the
man right then and there in the gut, he couldn't have been more
surprised. Shot-stunned, that was the look on his face, not that
I've ever shot or seen someone shot up close before.
Dead silence as we just stood cavepeople-like both half-hunched
over from our alcoholic stupor beside his car on the side of the
road of one of the busiest highways in North Carolina as the love
of my life pondered his past, our past, our present, and our
future.
"I just can't, Pat, I just can't...." he mumbled as I fell back
into the passenger's seat as he half-pushed half-slid me in.
"Why not!?!...why the bloody hell not!.." I yelled back in anger
to him as he staggered around to the driver's side and cranked
the car back up to head back "...why the fucking bloody hell NOT,
love of my life???..."
Dead silence for several more minutes as we drove through the
south edge of Cary, heading back past the I-440 interchange and
to our Jones Franklin Road exit. Then "...I just can't...I love
you SOOOO, soooo much, Pat...you are the love of my life
too...but I...I...I just can't..."
He helped to my door and walked away without a good-bye kiss.
Devastated. Beyond fucking devastated. Wiped down and out so low
that snailshit looked like a mountain range to me. Actually
contemplated suicide for a split-second, then contemplated paying
someone else to kneecap the still-love of my life for an even
splitter-second. Then decided the right course of action for me,
which was to do nothing. Fine. If Sandy didn't ever want to call
me again, fine. Fucking fine. Yeah, fucking fine.
A month and some weeks passed without a word from him. Of course
I didn't call him. He was the one who turned me down, not me
turning him down, so he could wait until the proverbial Hot Place
down below froze over before I'd ever call him. Then, as it
always does, fate intervened.
After my shift ended two nights before Thanksgiving and I was
perusing the aisles so familiar to me to get my turkey and
dressing and fixins' at the Harris-Teeter where I still was the
Assistant Produce Manager at, there he was. My Sandy. In the
canned goods aisle picking out what candied yams he wanted, there
was my Sandy. Our eyes met. He rushed to kiss me. I kissed him
back, firmly but politely. Then he broke away as quickly as he
had rushed to me.
Trying to walk away from me, I grabbed him on the shoulder. He
literally bolted for the front of the store, running out to the
parking lot to seek refuge in his car. I was younger and quicker
and still madly in love with the man. No way was he leaving
without giving me at least the common courtesy of telling why he
wouldn't marry me.
Pinning him against the car, my hands pressing his larger body to
the side of it, I yelled at the top of my lungs just inches from
his face "Dammit, Goddamit, Sandy you're not leaving her without
giving me the common fucking courtesy of telling me why you won't
marry me!!!...understand?!?...just tell me why, and you can
go...but you ain't going until you tell me, UNDERSTAND!!!???..."
the force of my voice making him close his eyes to its power.
"I....I....i....I just can't....you'd never understand, Pat...not
in a million years, you'd never understand...I'm sorry...I have
to go...let me go, or I'll coldcock you and leave you for the
paramedics to attend to...now, let me go!" he enforced back.
"Then go ahead and slug me, punk...I LOVE YOU!!!...I am totally
IN LOVE with you!...are you so fucking stupid that you just don't
fucking get it!?!...I love you!...I don't care if you've served
time for murder, I don't care what you've done in the past,
killed someone, embezzled a million dollars, run over small puppy
in the middle of the road on purpose for the fun of it..."
Looking me dead in the eye as he pushed my hands away with ease,
he screamed back at me "...you just don't get it, you stupid
bitch who I still love more than any woman I have ever loved in
my life including my dearest departed one, it's much worse
than...it's much worse than that."
We just stood there motionless for a moment, neither one of sure
what we should do next, if anything. Inches away, I saw him begin
to cry. Tears flowed down his face like tiny arroyo streams in
spring rains. "Okay...okay, Pat...if you really want to know why
I can't marry you..."
"...and I do, love of my life...I do...nothing you have done
could ever change my mind about how much I am so truly in love
with you...NOTHING..."
"...then come over to the apartment Friday night...all your
questions about why I you don't want to marry me will be
answered..."
"Promise?"
He left the parking lot slowly as I stood there, blowing me a
kiss through the driver's side glass as the power steering
screeched its lonely whine.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The thought of Thanksgiving alone, without him, him and Greg,
without my "family" was simply too depressing to contemplate. I
called him as soon as I got home. He had gotten home before I did
despite living a couple of miles further away from the store.
"Sandy?..."
"Yes?..." he replied in monotone deadpan.
"..the thought of not having you in my life is simply too
depressing to contemplate, Honey...the thought of not being with
you and Greg, my family, is simply too depressing to
contemplate...you' not going anywhere for Thanskgiving are
you?..." I sweeted as pleasant and non-threatening as I could.
"...uh-uh..." was all he said in reply.
"...then why don't I come over first thing Thursday morning and
fix dinner for us all, you got Thursday and Friday off don't
ya'?...
"....yeah, I do..." the tension in his voice rising "...but, Pat,
love of my li-io-fff-e..." he inflected almost sarcastically "..a
couple of things..."
"...yes, Dearest Love Of My Life?..."
"...bring over enough clothes for a couple of days...and if you
don't have anything to get married in, something white, buy
something tomorrow, white, with matching shoes and
everything...sure, you can come over and fix Thanksgiving dinner
for me and Greg, but..."
"...uh...uh-hu?.."
"...but I promise you, after dinner, you'll have answers to all
your questions...either you'll go with me down to South Carolina
to elope with me Friday, or you'll storm out of the apartment in
total disgust, once I tell you the truth of why you can't marry
me..."
I breathed heavy into the phone, wondering what the hell could be
so terrible that My Love would keep insisting that I'd leave him
once I found out his secret. "There?" he finally spake, breaking
my inward looking moment.
"Yeah, I'm here..."
"You still coming over?"
"Of...of course...I'll be there 8AM sharp...you got everything to
fix Thanksgiving dinner?..."
"...yeah...all we want is turkey and dressing and yams, and we
have all that...see ya' 8-ish then?..."
"....yeah..." silent dread and fear entering my mind on exactly
what he was hiding that was so terrible.
"...bye...and Pat?"
"...yeah?..."
"...I love you..."
"I love you too..."...then click.
Greg and Sandy both were out gone walking in the woods on that
cool North Carolina Thanksgiving morn, my key to Sandy's
apartment slipping into the front door lock with a well-worn
ease, a note from Sandy on the small butler's table telling me he
and Greg would be back by noon and that everything was basically
ready for me, all I had to do was turn on the oven and cut the
stove on, everything else being ready in the refrigerator
basically.
For a moment I thought bad about it, but brought my suitcases on
in, despite my gut telling me otherwise, to leave them in the
car. Clothes for a couple of days in the Pullman and the wedding
dress bought and kept in my hope chest for years and years
freshly dry-cleaned in the garment bag along with matching shoes
and my good Pentax camera shoved inside my makeup bag too.
Then, I changed my mind. Everything went right back out to car,
along with all my extra clean underwear and the assortment of
clothes and stuff that had accumulated in Sandy's apartment since
we had been going together. Photos, ticket stubs, my favorite old
sneakers, a large teeshirt that Sandy had given me with
"largemouth bass fishermen give better head" screenprinted on it,
a couple of changes of clothes that I kept for emergencies,
everything of mine went back to the car. Something told me that
indeed today would be the day that we would indeed break up, for
good this time.
I already had the Lions-Packers game turned on for them, was
absentmindedly sipping a Michelob while sitting at the table
staring into space through the kitchen window and had everything
ready to come out of the oven and off the stove when my two loves
playfully stomped into the house, carrying a .22 rifle each
having come out of the deep woods that backed up to their
apartment complex just outside Raleigh's city limits and
presenting me with what looked just like a freshly-shot turkey
with a more playful "we men killed this, woman, YOU clean it and
fix it!...hehehehe" before I realized it was a rubber joke one.
Those guys.
Greg and Sandy really devoured my homemade biscuits I had
fresh-made that morning without telling them I was going to, as
well as the fruit jello and bowl of giblet gravy and two other
kinds of dry and moist dressing and cremed potatoes and topping
it all off with homemade egg custard pie. Greg began to whimper
just a little as he ate his egg pie.
"Isn't it good, Hon'?...if you don't like it, please don't eat
it, my feelings won't be hurt..."
Silence for a moment as Sandy continued to eat his piece of it
and I mine before speaking "...it's just like his Mom used to
make when she was alive, that's all, and we've not had it since
she..."
Greg went to his room as I picked up the table and Sandy helped
me rinse everything off before putting what we could in the
dishwasher and I getting out the Lemon Joy to begin washing the
turkey cooker and larger pots that wouldn't fit in it. Sandy
helped scrape and then helped dry as I washed. We didn't say a
word hardly, but did begin flashing smiles to each other.
Finally, we kissed. Damn, I love that man. Damn how I love him.
"Whatever you need to tell me, Sand-eee, go ahead and tell me...I
promise....I SWEAR to you that no matter what it is...I swear to
you that I won't leave you...I'll marry you tomorrow...you'll
see...so, now's'a good a' time as any...tell me my love, tell
me..."
Silence. Dreadful silence.
We finished up the pots and pans and walked back into the living
room together, sitting side-by-side on the sofa. Reaching for my
hand, he took it like a minister does as they get ready to tell
someone that a family member just died. He looked into my eyes as
deep as he possibly could, as deep as he ever had, and intoned
"...I can't possibly tell you, Pat..." he choked out.
I was ready to hit the fucking ceiling. No, if he was such a
total liar, I was ready to cut my losses, crank up the old
rustbucket, and get the hell out of Dodge for good.
"...I can't tell you...I have to show you...Greg, it's
time...come in here, please!" he yelled to his son who had
retired to his own bedroom.
Greg came into the room wearing only a pair of gym shorts.
"Pat wants to know why she can't marry me...it's time...let's
show her, okay?"
"Okay, Dad..."
Greg, twelve-year-old precious Greg of tossled mussed hair and
taller height at twelve than me and thin limbs and a cock as big
as his Dad's, took the clue and dropped his shorts as he stood in
front of us, his cock springing to halflife almost immediately.
Breaking his eye contact with me, Sandy turned to begin fellating
his son. They both closed their eyes and almost immediately went
into some sort of lover's dance. It was obviously not the first
time they had done this together.
I sat there. I just sat there. Greg's cock stood erect inside his
father's mouth as he stood before him. Moans of light passion
stirred from them both inches away me. As far as they were
concerned, I was wasn't even in the room with them.
Greg dropped to in front of Sandy as Sandy kicked off his loafers
and Dockers, leaving his navy-blue Golden Bear golf shirt on and
took his Dad's cock in his mouth, a cock which was already
leaking a tiny bit of pre-cum in its three-quarters erect state.
Sandy leaned in and kissed the top of his son's head and kept an
open hand there as he leaned back to enjoy the blowjob. Greg so
expertly was sucking his Dad that I could have taken lesson from
him. Hell, I "was" taking lessons from him. Neither had said one
syllable to me in all of this.
Sandy was right, though. It was so vile and disgusting that no
woman in her right mind would stay and watch them. They were
definitely two sick puppies. But one of those sick puppies was
the man I was so deeply in love with that I would have sucked his
pet donkey dry if he wanted me to, not that Greg was equivalent
to a pet donkey, you know what I mean. And the other sick puppy
was a young man whom I respected totally and loved
unconditionally. I didn't hesitate. My weight shifted and I
leaned into My Love's lap to join his son's suck of him.
"Damn, Dad, you were right!..." Greg exclaimed "...I didn't think
she'd go for it..." he said between slurps of his father's shaft
as I also kissed him on the lips a little "...but you were
right...she's just like Mom was!"
That hit me like a bolt of clearsky lightning. Raising up my eyes
met Sandy's, half in trepidation, half in being slightly pissed
off for some unknown reason. "Okay...okay..." I mumbled with
somewhat real irritation "...the whole story, and now, or I
leave, for good this time".
Greg got up and sat beside me as Sandy finished taking of his
clothes on the other side of me still.
"It's real simple, Pat..." Sandy spoke in measured timing.
"Yeah...uh-hu..." I replied with equal metronome measurement.
"Beverely..." Sandy began, using his deceased wife's name for the
second or third time I had ever heard in the whole time I had
been going with him "...was raised in an incestuous family...she
was initiated into her family incest way from the time she was
born almost...her and her two brothers and sister too...they all
regularly participated in incestuous play with their parents and
siblings while growing up on an almost daily and at least weekly
basis, up until the time they left home, when it was understood
that each could make their own decisions as adult to continue to
be incestuous with each other, or not as they might choose..."
I just sat and looked as deeply into his eyes as I could, looking
for any trace of doubt, any trace of a lie whatsoever. I didn't
see any.
"...when Beverely and I were first married, she didn't say a word
at first...then after she got pregnant with Greg, she told me the
whole story, mainly because she wanted to raise our child, or
children when we had more later, the same way she had been
raised, because she thought it was the healthiest way possible
for a child and for the parents too..."
Sandy took a couple of deep breaths, exhaling them slowly, eyes
cutting back and forth to me, looking for any sign I was going to
run screaming for the front door. I wasn't.
"...from the time Greg was an infant, Bev' would routinely
masturbate him every single day...when he was finally out of
diapers, she began giving him blowjobs again each day...when he
was six or seven, she persuaded me to let him join in our bed for
a few hours a couple of times each week..that first time, when he
was seven, I think..."
"Yeah, seven, Dad..." Greg confirmed as he sat naked next to me.
"...his Mom took his virginity right there in front of me...that
same night, she persuaded me to give him some head, even though I
am not, never have been or will be gay, she convinced me that
it's part of a healthy relationship the way she was raised...she
also became our slut, if you will...she enjoyed being a total
slutwife to us both, until....until...anyway, she enjoyed being
tied up and whipped and spanked sometimes, we'd do that for her
even though neither one of us were into that much, but we did
enjoy having her at our total beck-and-call for any and
everything, didn't we, Greg-eee?..."
"Yeah, we did, Dad..I still miss her, soooo much..." his voice
trailing off in sadness.
"..I still do to, Son...but now, it looks you might have a new
Mommy, and I a new wife..." Sandy grinned before leaning into
kiss me as Greg also joined our kiss.
Made sense. It did explain a LOT of things. A lot of behavior or
lack of it thereof, like when we three of us were at that nude
beach and Greg seemed totally nonplused by my nudity. He must
have seen his mother naked literally thousands of times, made
love to her hundreds if not thousands of times too.
We three just easily grinned and laughed and giggled together as
we joined our group hug while the two perfect men in my life
kissed me together for all we were worth, I grabbing their naked
cocks one in each hand while they groped me through my clothes.
Clothes which were almost immediately shed in a trail as we
headed to "our" bedroom.
"Marry me, Sandy...." I whispered aloud as the last of my
clothing as well as my defenses were voluntarily shed, almost
tripping Greg as it caught under his feet, he stumbling into me
more, I kissing him firmly on the mouth as a lover as well as he
soon-to-be stepmom.
"Yes, I'll marry you, Pat, I'll marry you!" Sandy cheerfully
replied.
In our bedroom, Greg motioned for me to get on the bed so that my
rump was sticking high in the air my face down in a doggie-style
position as my legs hung in the freeair off the edge of the bed.
Smiling, I complied. Hearing the drawer of the nighstand slide
open, a second later I felt the cold of the KY hitting my rear, a
practiced finger working some inside me as Greg crawled onto the
bed and bent down to kiss me. Sandy's cock slid into my asshole
with ease.
In all our months going together, we had never assfucked at all.
Of course I would have if he had asked me to, but he never did,
so I never pushed it either. God, it felt so good! Finally.
Slapping my buttcheeks a little, Greg tied my wrists behind my
back with some well-worn dacron cord fished out from a box pulled
out from underneath the bed. My tail was soon being lightly
paddled with an old ping-pong paddle as My Love continued his
assfuck of me as Greg ran his hands all over my back and body,
pulling and squeezing on my tits as he kissed me up and down my
spine.
God, GOD, GODDAMIT!!!...heaven...sheer bliss...heaven.
My Perfect Love and My Perfect Love Junior. Yes, I would be their
wife and mother and slut for the rest of our lives, if they would
have me. Anything. Just don't let this end.
Rolling me over to my back, Sandy got some more lengths of rope
out from the box and tied them to my ankles before standing on
the bed and looping the ends through some eyehooks in the ceiling
near the foot of the bed, eyehooks he had previously explained
away as being for hanging plants, something I never quite
believed but up until that second never could figure out what
exactly they were for.
My wrists still tied behind my back, my rear now elevated off the
bed, my legs spread-eagle like a wishbone, my sex open to
whatever My Loves wished to do to me, Greg now took his place
between them and just rammed his man-sized 12-year-old cock home
inside me deeply.
"I...I love you...Son...Greg..." I half-coughed out from between
breaths of rising passion.
"I...I love you, too, Mom..." he replied back as he grinned
ear-to-ear as his fuck of me continued, Sandy now shoving his
cock in my mouth to get an oral fuck.
"I love you, too...Wifey..." Sandy horsewhispered to me as he
held my head in his hands and just plain fucked me face.
Slipping his cock out and then poking it my asshole, Greg
replaced his cock with his hand, lubing it up with more KY, and
began a one then two then four then whole-hand fistfuck of me as
he continued fucking my ass simultaneously. God, it had been
literally years since anyone had fisted me, probably not since
Rayvon, and I was in heaven.
"As hard as you want, Baby, fist your Mommy as hard as you
want...Baby!" I coarsed to Greg as he held my alofted tail with
one hand while fisting and assfucking me still.
Sandy in the meantime had gotten a small and mean looking riding
crop. I didn't like the look of it. Still poking his cock in my
mouth, he began flicking my erecting nipples with it, using a
horizontal swiping motion while cocking his wrist to roughly
brush across them, hitting them but not hard enough to really
hurt, just enough to bring them perfect peaks.
"My turn, Son..." he barked at Greg.
Between my legs for a moment he took his son's place, fucking my
cunt while shoving a couple of fingers up my tail for effect, my
pussy still tenting open from Greg's fisting of me a second
before.
Motioning to Greg, my nearly six-foot tall stepson-to-be soon
untied the loops of rope from the ceiling hooks which held my
ankles and lower body elevated, the circulation running back to
my increasingly sore muscles in my calves, Sandy untying my bound
wrists from behind my back.
For the longest moment, we three just lay there together, me in
the middle, my two Perfect Lovers cuddling me, petting and
caressing me as I purred contentedly between them, a cock in each
of my hands, keeping them up. "Time for your 'double', Pat".
Greg lay flat on the bed as I staddled him, his cock
three-quarters hard but a quarter-limp rising harder to fill me
once I actually started pumping him. His thinnish new adolescent
body feeling strange, at least stranger than his father's hard
muscled body that I had become so accustomed to lately,
underneath my approaching middle-aged body. His hands lovingly
played with my breasts, his fingers pulling and pinching my
nipples. Yes, that hurt some, and I wasn't used to this kind of
play, but I didn't care. I was his, I was his father's, I was
theirs, I was their toy and slut and wife and mother to do
whatever they wanted to with, and they both knew and loved it.
But no more than I.
Feeling Sandy's strong arm grasping me around my waist, he
entered me from behind as Greg continued to fill my other space
as I rocked back and forth atop him. Completely filled,
completely satisfied as a woman, for probably the first time ever
in my life. I simply had to let go.
"Fuck me!...fuck me, you two studs...show me how real men fuck
their wife and mother...FUCK ME!"
Greg grabbed and mauled my tits h-a-r-d, pulling me into him for
a kiss as Sandy began slapping and grabbing my ass even harder,
driving his cock deeper inside me. "Harder!....faster!..." I
demanded.
"Shit, Dad, Pat's as wild as Mom was!" Greg excitedly exclaimed
as my bronco ride of him continued atop him.
Taking a free hand and almost losing my balance doing so, I
mauled my own open pussy between my own legs as Greg cuntfucked
and his Dad, My Love, assfucked me, playing with my clit and
gorging pussy lips as hard and rough as I could.
Their pace picked up as fast as they could, then BANG, Greg went
off inside me and seconds later Sandy did to. I licked them both
clean as we cocooned together on the bed, they almost going to
slumber on me, but I wouldn't let them, licking their assholes,
bathing them, while licking their spent and now-limping cocks.
For the next few hours, we just did whatever we felt like. Each
of us sucked and fucked and kissed and felt and poked and frigged
whatever we felt like. Dad and son in a loving sixty-nine, I
helped them each such each. Sandy and I or Greg and I in a 69,
whoever wasn't yin-yanged with me joined their tongue in my
loving of the other part of who we were. They tied me up against
a wall and gently flogged me with a felt cat o' ninetails, each
blow lovingly delivered with precision and passion as whoever
wasn't whipping me would be kissing me and feeling me up as well.
Passion upon passion upon passion, act of passion upon act of
passion, until all energy was spent, leaving only unconditional
and purely unselfish love. Yes, l-o-v-e. Love, which displaced
the darkness of the night with a soft and steady glow of hope.
And, in the morning, my suitcases already packed with my wedding
gown and extra clothes in my car, the South Carolina Stateline
sign gleaned at us in the rising sun of a new day, a new day
which would be that way for the rest of our lives, the new day of
being married to both my new Husband and his son my new BestMan.
-30-
Send comments to: planet_dweller@yahoo.com
Please visit my free ASSTR Author's Webpage at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/PlanetDweller/www <1st attachment end>
<2nd attachment, "thead4.txt" begin>
The Ad, Chapter 4
by
PlanetDweller
MF, MFb, MFbg, MFFb, FF, Fg, Dad/12-year-old-son incest, adult
brother/sister incest, woman/girl, stepfamily incest, BDSM, heavy
menstrual sex, reluctance, caution
Copyright (C) 2002, PlanetDweller. ALL Rights Reserved
+++++++++++++++++++++
My soon-husband-to-be Sandy drove cautiously down from Raleigh
on US 1 towards Chesterfield S.C. as I know my manual stimulation
then blowjobbing of him had to be distracting, distracting on
purpose. The rising passions offered and accepted from the night
before continued without abatement. Sandy's 12-year-old son,
Greg, watched with bemused disinterest from the backseat as now
matter how hard I tried I couldn't get Sandy to even acknowledge
getting a supreme blowjob. After last night, it's not like he was
watching something new.
Stopping for gas in Southern Pines, I hopped into the backseat
with Greg.
"Mom" he said "let's play some like we did last night" I
nodding "sure", his hands gently mauling my breasts through my
top, he calling me "Mom" each time just thrilling me to no end.
"What would my handsome stepson like to do, hhhmmm?"
"Pull your pants down and masturbate for me, now, please."
For a twelve-year-old, shoot for a forty-two year-old he had a
masterful way about him, just like his Dad. I complied
immediately. My hand found my slit as I wantonly splayed my legs
open for him. He just smiled as my hand gently frigged myself.
A trucker passing by us on the narrow two-lane US highway
beeped his horn in appreciation of the split-second show. Greg
shoved a single index finger up my cunt as I played with myself,
worked it in and out a little, then licked my juices on it clean.
God, what a perfect life! What a perfect marriage, what a perfect
stepson, what a perfect husband I had lucked up on!
Stopping at the rest stop just across the South Carolina line,
we went to our respective restroom sides to change clothes, Sandy
and Greg into business suits, me into a nice white formal-looking
but not necessarily bridal-looking dress.
The wedding ceremony itself was a blur to me. I do remember
that the Justice Of The Peace was evidently the same one that
married Sandy and his first (now deceased) wife Beverly. I do
remember both Sandy and Greg kissing me full on the lips after
the ceremony. No, wait, that was 24 hours later. Damn, it was a
blur, and we didn't bring our video camera either, damn it all,
shoot!
I remember now. There was a 24 hours waiting period after
getting the license before we could legally be married, and the
Clerk Of Court office was closed on the weekends. Sandy had to
bribe the JOP a hundred-spot to marry us the following afternoon
at the Justice Of The Peace's house.
That night our pre-wedding-honeymoon went full bore. Lots of
fucking and sucking both and they each other, sure, and lots of
tie-up and whipping games for me, too.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, I mentioned to Sandy
through my gag as I lay completely bound and helpless on the bed
that while Greg was going to be his best man, I didn't have a
maid of honor.
"Oh yes, you will, Pat-ty Dear. That was going to be a surprise
tomorrow, but I'll go ahead and tell you now. My sister Kate,
Kathryn, you remember meeting her when she came over that time
for dinner when we first started dating, is driving down early
tomorrow morning. She's going to be your maid of honor, is that
okay?"
"Well, I would have preferred to have my best friend Carol be
my maid of honor" I choked out as my ballgag was removed "but
sure, I like Kate, that's fine."
"I'm glad you like, Kate, Dear, because she's also going to
participate in our honeymoon tomorrow night."
All color in my face was lost. I tried to get angry, but I
couldn't. I simply loved my loves too damn much. "What else you
want to tell me, hu?" I asked with noticeable irritation.
Greg went up to go the bathroom, sliding off the bed without
glancing back at me, as my Sandy undid my bounds and pulled up me
up close to him.
"I told you how Beverly was raised in an incestuous family, and
that's how she got us to be one?"
"Uh-hu, yeah, your point?" my slight hurt not being hid.
"Well, of course, Bev was bi, with her mother, her sisters, her
aunts, etc., and when to make a long story short, she 'seduced'
Kate when Greg was around five or six, then set up a scene where
I pretended to catch the two of them in bed, which in the end
resulted in the four of us having regular but not frequent sex
together. Beverly loved women too, Pat, and I was never going to
deny her anything."
"And just why didn't you mention this before now? It's not like
you couldn't have" my irritation now rising into mild anger and
more hurt.
"Because after you accepted Greg and mine's relationship and
your place in it, you are our sex slave, Pat, my wife, I didn't
think it necessary."
"You didn't think it was - necessary - ?!? What the fuck were
you thinking!?! Not necessary!!!"
He turned to look away for a moment and just stared at the bed
quietly. "Nope, it wasn't necessary. Pat, I love you more than
anything or anyone else ever, save Greg" as Greg came back naked
into the cheap hotel bedroom from the Lysol-smelling bathroom,
plopping down on the bed with us "but you accepted your place as
our sex slave the other night, when you agreed to be my wife.
Beverly was our sex slave too, Dear, but she was our willing one,
she was the one that introduced us to this lifestyle."
"But I've never been with another woman, San-ddddd-eeee" I
hissed back at him.
"That's not the point. As much as I love you, the only way
you'll ever be wife to -us- is not just freely but eagerly be our
sexslave, just like Greg's mom was. And that means you do what we
say, when we say, how we say. You can ask for anything, Pat, my
love, but I, we, decide."
"Well, I decide that this is a crock of shit and I want no part
of it. Take me home, now!"
Dead silence for more than a couple of moments. Greg got
dressed, then Sandy, as I lay joined them in putting on some
clothes. Neither of them looked at me. Greg's face showed a
single tear drop running down his cheek. Sandy's face was
beet-red with disappointment and hurt. The still quiet of the
rural South Carolina night rung like a giant churchbell
portending of something major to come. I didn't know what, they
didn't know what.
"You never said how long this thing with your sister Kate has
been going on."
"Since you've decided not to be my wife, I don't think it's any
of your damn business."
"Sandy . . . Sandy, I love you more than my life itself, but
you can't keep springing shit on me like this. Answer this one
question, and I'll never ask anything like it again."
My love sat down the foot of the bed with a thud, burying his
face in his hands for a moment as he did. Greg eased down beside
him. I took my place across from them, setting on the old and
cigarette-burned chest-of-drawers.
"I just told you, stupid bitch, that it's been going on since
Greg was six or seven."
"You just told me since he was five or six, which is it?"
"Stupid bitch, why do you ask questions you already know the
answer to?"
I don't know what came over me. Leaping up just three or four
feet from him, I slapped him hard across the face. It couldn't
have hurt much. I didn't leave a handprint. "Don't call me
'stupid bitch' or anything else like that ever again, gotit?!!?"
A look of rage came across his face for a split-second then
immediately went away. "Got it" was all he said.
I was at a loss. Damn, the one true love of my life, and I
couldn't get a rise out of him. A flood of future memories swept
across my mind. Memories of times to come happy, times to come
sad, times to come in all colors and shapes and sizes. I started
crying. Not just crying, bawling worse than a baby.
Greg came over to me and sat beside me atop the low dresser
with a "Mom, Mom, please don't cry, please don't cry!" his own
crying chorusing, tears running down his cheeks.
Sandy came over and joined our hug. For the longest time, we
just hugged as we all three cried tears of joy, tears of pain,
tears of relief. Then from nowhere, Sandy pulled back for a
second and slapped me across my right cheek as hard as he could,
with a "Pat, if you ever strike me again, our marriage will be at
that moment over, got it?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what, yes?"
"Yes, Sandy, your stupid bitch gets it; yes, Master, I getit."
A grin so wide he could have played four harmonicas
simultaneously came over him as he kissed me passionately on the
lips, Greg joining in too.
"And you will obey us at all times in the future?"
"Yes, my Masters, I will, your wife, your slave promises."
"Then let's go to sleep, it's been a long day" we three
sleeping like puppies in a basket all contented and happy that
night.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Morning light was accentuated by a sharp rap at the door. I
knew it had to be Kate. Sandy was good, very good. I had been
with them for seventy-two hours straight and still couldn't
figure out how he managed to call Kate and set all this up
without my knowledge.
"Mom, get the door, please" Greg sweetly commanded me as his
hand gave my tit a good-morning squeeze.
Easing off the bed I tried to ease gmy old nightshirt, one of
Sandy's old oversized teeshirts, but half-sleepily he mumbled
fussed at me "no", a "you will stay naked when you're with us
from now on" admonition.
"But what if it's the maid?"
"The she'll see a naked slave" he only half-jokingly replied.
Kate gave me a warm hug as I opened the door for her. If she
was to be my first woman, at least she was going to be a nice
one. Sweet by nature, smiling always and easily, her natural
dirty blond straight hair and wonderful figure stretched out on
her five eight frame, it was going to be okay, I had to keep
telling myself that.
"Did Sandy explain things to you?"
"Not really, Kate, other than the fact that Beverly seduced you
then set up a scene where Sandy pretended to catch you and her
and that was that."
"Yes, that's true, but there's more. Have you guys had
breakfast yet?"
"Nope, we were alseep, you woke us up."
"Good. I've brought breakfast. Biscuits from Hardee's okay?"
"I'm still not sure about this, Kate."
"What's there to be sure of, hhhmm? I know what Sandy told you;
either you are his and Greg's slave, or he won't marry you."
"How did you know that?"
"I've known everything since day one, Pat. Tell you what; let's
leave the biscuits for them, let's you and I go somewhere and
talk, just us girls, okay?"
We left the guys still asleep cuddled together and drove back
into downtown Chesterfield to the Hardee's there, getting some
sausage biscuits and a couple of coffees before walking the two
or three blocks to Esterling Park which also happened to be right
next to the courthouse. Finding a secluded bench away from the
main footpaths, we sat next to each other and talked as we ate.
"If Sandy had told me about this, about you, Kathryn, before
bring me down here to get married, I wouldn't have been as
upset."
"Don't BS me, Pat" she smiled without sarcasm "you're about as
straight as they come, we've known that since Day One."
"Who's this 'we' shit, Kate?"
"Sandy, Greg, and me, silly. They've told me everything since
Sandy answered your ad way back when."
"Everything?"
"Everything. Pat, it's not like this is strange to me. Beverly
was sex slave to me too, within the context of her and Sandy's
marriage, and remember, she was the one that seduced -me- then
eventually let me in on their family secret. She was the one who
showed me how much fun just letting go and enjoying can be. I was
also sex slave to her sometimes, I'm what they call a 'switch',
and am always sex slave to Sandy and Greg, though it's never
really formal, they simply do what they will with me."
"And how long has this been going on?"
"Ever since Greg was six. I used to come over around once a
month to play with them. Since Bev died, I've been coming over
around a couple of times a month, when we all want the sex. It's
no big deal."
No big deal. No big deal?!? How could she say such a thing?
"Sandy made it very clear to me last night either I accept my
place as his and Greg's slave."
"Which you already have, judging by your actions the other
night."
How the hell did she know about that?
"And part of that is evidently being your lesbian slave to you,
too, correct?"
"If that's what Sandy said, uh-hu."
More thoughts raced through my mind than I can recall right
now. One thought stuck out in particular.
"Kate?"
"Uh-hu?"
"What's the real plan? Are you going to become part of this
family, live with us full-time? If so, then I'll just tell Sandy
no-thanks when we get back. Sharing him and Greg is one thing,
having to share with some sort of co-wife is unacceptable, simply
unacceptable.
Her face went blank for a moment before she spoke once again.
"Pat, Sandy truly does love you more than anything else in this
world. He's not a liar, and he hasn't lied about that. His love
for you is very real."
"Uh-hu; I hear a 'but' coming?"
"But he and Greg got spoiled by Beverly and they never thought
that could find that kind of love, that kind of marriage ever
again. Now they have, in you. I can't speak for Sandy, Pat, my
dear soon-to-be sister-in -law, but I will tell you that I've
been living with a long-term boyfriend whom I also love very much
and whom I'll marry one day and who has no idea what I've been
doing with Sandy and Greg nor will he ever, so the short answer
to your question is: no, except for coming over every now and
then to play some with you guys, no, I won't ever be what you
call a 'co-wife'. Okay?"
I shuffled my feet on the concrete walk below the park bench,
staring at the tops of my shoes as I thought for a moment.
"I've never been with a woman before, Kate."
"Oh, I hadn't either before Bev; trust me, you'll enjoy it,
you'll see."
"Okay, then, okay. I do love Sandy and Greg so much."
"I know you do. Now, kiss me, slave."
An old couple sat on a bench just a hundred feet or so away
from us. They had been feeding the pigeons and eavesdropping on
our conversation best they could, not making an attempt to hide
such. I kissed Kate firmly on the lips, just to give the oldsters
a thrill. My hand lightly squeezed one her breasts for a second
before releasing as my tongue wrestled with hers.
"Ready to go back?"
"Uh-hu; ready to get married?"
"Yes, yes I am; and thanks for being my maid of honor."
"You're welcome."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The ceremony at the home of the JP that Sandy had to bribe to
marry us because it was a Saturday is definitely a blur. I do
remember being kissed by Sandy and Greg both, and come to think
of it, Kate too, much to the delight of the same old Justice O'
The Peace who had also married Sandy and Bev all those years
before.
Chesterfield South Carolina being a very small town right off
US Number One Highway in the middle of northern South Carolina
nowhere lacked a decent steak house or fancy restaurant to have
our impromptu wedding reception at, so we ate at Yellow Bird
Barbecue, ate some sort of pork BBQ that was smothered in some
sort of heavy mustard barbecue sauce. Different, definitely
different.
Back at the old roadside motel just inside the town limits on
old US 1, it was virtually empty that weekend save one other car
at the far end, my Sandy carried me over the threshold much to
delight of Kate and Greg, my new stepson continuing to take
photos of the proceedings. Once inside and the door closed, Greg
kissed me again full on the lips then Kate too. My crotch was
becoming damp with anticipation.
"Well, hate to do this, but gotta run, guys" Kate said as she
hugged me good-bye. What the hey?
"Thanks for coming down to be Pat's maid-of-honor, I owe you
one."
"I'll cash it in later, brother, but Tom is waiting for me at
home, gotta run, see ya!"
I know I had a look of total disbelief on my face. All this
set-up, and now she wasn't going to stay to play with us?
"I . . . I thought she was going to stay and be part of our
honeymoon; Sandy?"
"We let you think what you wanted to, Dear; she will play with
us sometime, just not right now."
"But; but?; but"
"But what Dear? You really want to be with her that badly?"
"Uh, yeah, Hon', I do."
Kate and her brother my husband shot each other looks and then
shrugged shoulders at each other.
"Okay, slave, you can be with me for a short while, then I
gotta go."
As Sandy and son Greg undressed each other and climbed naked
atop the lumpy motel bed, hands slowly jacking each other off,
Kate stood before me, her pink dress nicely contrasting to my
all-white near-bridal-dress. She caressed my face in her hands,
removed my bridal veil from my bunned hair, letting my hair fall
to my shoulders as she unclipped it. Her hands massaged by
breasts through the thick fabric before she turned me around to
unzip me, helping me slip out of it and clipping to a hanger so
it wouldn't get wrinkled. Then shoes, then pantyhose. I stood
before her in my bra and panties as Sandy got up from the bed for
a second to help her undress, sitting back down with Greg as he
finished.
"You are so beautiful, Pat, Sandy and Greg are so lucky."
"I'm the lucky one, Kate."
"We are all lucky. Remove your panties and bra. Bend over my
knee after I sit down, slave."
"Yes, uuhmmm, yes Mistress."
Sitting on the side of the bed with Sandy and Greg very close
to us behind us, I knelt over my Mistress's lap, exposing my bare
bottom to her touch.
"Count, slave."
"Yes, Mistress."
Seee-llaaappp! I don't think I had ever been hit so hard by
anyone in my life. I knew she had to have left a bruise.
"One!" I cried out. Then two, then three, then before I could
catch my breath good, had counted up to twenty. Mistress now hand
her hand shoved inside me, fisting me for a moment.
"Taste!"
I licked my feminine essence for all I was worth. All I wanted
to do was please her. Please her and my Sandy and Greg.
"Is my Mistress pleased?"
"Yes, slave. Now, on your back."
Mistress shoved her tongue up my pussy as Sandy and Greg began
a slow sixty-nine of each other just inches away. She licked my
pussy for three or four minutes before grabbing my shoulder with
a "now do me, slave!"
I didn't need any orders. Spreading her legs wide for me, my
mouth found her pudenda. I licked her pussy and pussylips with
every ounce of passion I had. She grabbed by hair and forced my
face harder into her crotch, coming quickly.
Her eyes closed as she rested for a moment, my face still
between her legs. A thought popped into my head.
"Sandy, my love?"
"Yes Dear?"
"You said I could ask for anything I wish for, correct":
"Yes, ask for, but not necessarily receive."
"I understand. Master, would you please make love to Mistress,
you and Master Greg? It would excite me so, watching you and your
sister and son make love."
Greg stopped his part of his sixty-nine with his father to
raise his eyebrows with a "hey, why not?"
Sandy nudged me out of the way and took my place, his firmness
sliding inside his sister's well-lubed cunt with ease. As Greg
shoved his cock into his aunt's mouth, I took my place underneath
my Master and Mistress, licking Sandy's cock while it slid inside
his sister and licking her pussylips and anal bud while he fucked
her.
"Damn, Pat, that's perfect, keep going!" my Master barkedatme.
Greg moved around us and took his position at my rear, shoving
his cock inside my vagina as I licked his father and aunt.
"No, honey, make love to Kate, please!"
Bodies scooting around, Kate got on top of Sandy facing him as
Greg also entered her cunt as well from behind , their two cocks
completely filling her as I took my place to the side of her,
cupping and massing her breasts as my lips sucked on her neck.
That's about all it took. Sandy soon came, then Greg, then
Mistress, then even me just from the passion of the moment, she
and I both plopping in a heap next to our menfolk.
"I hate to do this, Pat, you were terrific, really, but I
really do have to go back to Raleigh" she whined while getting up
to get dressed.
"See you soon, Sis" Sandy called to her from his sexed-out
snooze.
"Yeah, see you next week, Aunt Kate?"
"Yeah, probably, Greg-gy."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Over the next three or four months, Kate did become a fixture
in our lives, just like she had been when Sandy's first wife Bev
had been alive. I was so, so happy. She'd come over sometimes
once a week sometimes every other week, sometimes twice a week,
just depending. And she was right, not only in my role as slave
to her but also just in general I really was starting to enjoy
making love to her, woman-to-woman.
One afternoon Greg came home from school with a friend. A
-girl- friend, as in friend who was a girl, specifically. A pert,
cute, very polite 12-year-old from his fifth grade class by the
name of "Beth". I knew what was up from the get-go. Living with
my two loves + a half (Kate) for almost six months now, I could
read them all like the proverbial books. I knew what was up, and
I didn't mind.
"Mom, this is Beth, a friend of mine from school."
"How do you do?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Stewart, thank you."
"Mom, is Dad going to be home soon? There's something I need to
talk with you and him about."
"I don't think he's going to be later than usual, Dear, 'should
be home around six or so like usual. Is there something -I- can
help you with, Hon'?"
Greg looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. I went
over to him and put my arm around his shoulder as Beth sat down
in Sandy's easychair.
"What's wrong, Hon'?"
"Nuthin', Mom, it's just that . . ." he placing my arm around
his waist in a gesture of open affection meant for Beth's benefit
"it's just that I like Beth, and she likes me, and I want her to
be my girlfriend."
"And you've already told her about us, haven't you?"
His mouth dropped so open I could count his cavities.
"How; how, how did you know, Mom?"
"I can read you and your father like a book by now, young man,
that's how."
"Are you mad, Mom? Do you think Dad will be mad?"
"No, I'm not mad. We've had this talk before, haven't we? Your
father and I knew this day would come eventually. You knew it
too. It's okay, son, it's okay. Give me a hug."
"Thanks, Mom!" he replied under muffled breath as we hugged
then kissed on the lips. I watched for any reaction from Beth but
there was none. A nice long hug, then I turned my attention to
Beth.
"Beth?"
"Yes, Mrs. Stewart?"
"Call me Pat, please."
"Okay Mrs. Stewart, eerrrr, Pat."
"Would you like some milk and cookies? When are you expected to
be home?"
"Yes, thank you, that would be nice, and my mom doesn't care
when or if I come home tonight."
"Would you mind if I call and confirm that with her?"
"No not at all. My number's 467-8884, you can look it up if
you'd like, it's under 'Linda Bond' "
I called the number with suspicion, looking it up in the phone
book as the machine caught it. Starting to leave a message, a
woman on the other end picked up.
"Linda? Mrs. Bond?"
"Yes, this is Linda, and it's just Ms. not Mrs. Bond; and this
is?"
"This Pat Stewart, Greg's mom; he brought your daughter Beth
home with him today, and Beth told me that you had okayed her
spending the night tonight with us. Is this true?"
"No, it's not. I told her she could spend tomorrow night,
Friday night with you and your husband and fine son Greg.
Tomorrow night, not tonight."
"Linda? What else did Greg mention to you, if I might ask?"
"Mrs. Stewart, Pat, Greg very discretely told me what kind of
relationship you and your husband and he has. Don't worry, I
won't call the cops."
"He was supposed to clear any such telling with strangers with
us before doing so."
"Please don't punish him, Pat, he's a very good boy, a fine
young man. Truth is, he and Beth became friends last year, and it
was she that told him what kind of relationship she and I have
had since she was seven or so. That's when he told her about his
'real' mom, then about you when you came into their lives. Pat,
let me call a spade a spade. I've had an incestuous relationship
with my daughter since she was seven. I'm not interested in being
with you or your husband and son along with my daughter. Beth is
becoming a grown woman, and she needs to make her own decisions.
I've had her on the pill for six months now. If she wants to be
with Greg and you and your husband, that's her decision. But your
secret is safe with me, just as I trust mine will be with you."
"Of course, errrrrr, Linda, of course."
"Let me give you my pager number before we hang up. As long as
you and your husband agree, I'll send her to school with enough
changes of clothes and all in her gym bag so she can come spend
either Friday night or the whole weekend, as you and shewishes."
"Pardon my skepticism, Linda, but could we meet brieflyfirst?"
"Sure. Why don't I come by and pick Beth up later, we can meet
then."
"Sounds good. I was going to fix spaghetti for dinner. Can Beth
have dinner with us, and you pick her around eight-ish?"
"Sure. That way you can get to know my Beth a little better
before tomorrow night."
"Thank you, Linda. You're a great mom!"
I fucking couldn't believe it. My 12-year-old stepson wanted to
bring his 12-year-old girlfriend into our relationship, and his
girlfriend's mom had been her lesbian lover since age seven and
was cool with it. Damn I wasn't sure what Sandy would say,
though.
"Sure, Dear, as long as Linda's for real and doesn't mind, I'm
cool with that" was his response. Like I expected him to say
anything else, that man of mine.
Linda was a short, somewhat frumpish woman with short brunette
hair and glasses. We exchanged hugs at the door as she came in,
she and Sandy also exchanging a polite hug. We talked small talk
for a while, then another while.
"You're obviously a bit skeptical still, Pat, Sandy; let me put
your concerns to ease; Beth, come here please."
Beth walked over to her mother as she sat on the couch between
us. Linda kissed her full and hard on the lips. Beth groped her
mother's breasts through her black knit top which matched her
black knit slacks, Linda rubbing her daughter's twat through her
jeans. This went on for a couple of minutes.
"Convinced now?" she asked politely but with mild irritation.
"Yes, Linda, we're convinced" husband replied "and you're sure
you're okay with this?"
"Yes, for the final time, I don't mean to be ill but yes,
Sandy, I'm okay with this. I just don't want to participate.
Whatever my Beth chooses to do or not do is fine with me. I know
you'll respect her limits and boundaries."
"Of course we will"
"I know you will, Pat."
Greg just grinned ear-to-ear, Beth similarly grinning as she
hugged myself and Sandy with a "thank you, Mother Stewart,
thanks, Sandy."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Beth and Greg got off the school bus together hand-in-hand,
coming through the door with a mutual hug for me.
"Mrs. Stewart"
"Pat, please. Please call me Pat, please."
"Pat, I'm so excited. This is what I've been waiting for, for
over a year. I do love Greg."
"I know you do, Hon'."
"And I can't tell you how excited I am that you and Mr. Stewart
will be part of everything, too."
"We're looking forward to it ourselves, Beth. Do you need to
freshen up before dinner?"
"Yes, please. I remember where the bathrooms are. I'll be right
back."
Beth came out from the bathroom sans jeans and teeshirt,
wearing a pair of tight gymshorts and an elastic halter top with
no bra that formed out her budding 32B breasts.
"Can I help you with anything in the kitchen, Pat?"
"Yes, you can set the plates and silverware for me if you'd
like. The chicken ala' Sandy is about ready, it'll stay on warm
until Sandy gets home. All I have to do is fix the salad and
that's it."
"You are so nice, Pat. Greg's lucky to have you as his mom."
"Thanks, Beth, you're a dear" I whispered to her as I firmly
but gently pulled her near to me in a slightly passionate hug,
kissing her forehead before she raised up to kiss me on thelips.
"The only real woman I've been with is mom. I'm looking forward
to being with you, Mrs. Stewart."
"I'm looking forward to being with you too, Dear. The only
other woman I've ever been with is Kate, Sandy's sister, Greg's
aunt."
"Cool!"
"Yes it is, isn't it?" my hand rubbing her tits underneath her
top a little before getting back to my kitchen chores.
Dinner went off without a hitch. Beth really was a
well-mannered and well-groomed young lady. Sandy eyed her the
entire time, but that was okay. It wasn't like I wasn't eyeing
her as well, imaging all sorts of things to come with her and my
boys. Greg sweetly held her hand all through, exchanging little
puppydog kisses with her during the meal.
Greg helped me bring out the dessert, a plain cheesecake with
strawberries and cream on the side, as Sandy changed the tone of
the conversation from vanilla to a definite chocolate.
"So, Beth, you excited by tonight?"
"Yes, Mr. Stewart, I mean Sandy. Greg and I have waited all
these months to make love. I told him I wanted tonight to be as
special for him as it is going to be for me. I just wish my mom
could be here, but she said she had rather not, not tonight."
"Maybe having Pat with you tonight will help make up for it
some."
"Yeah, I like her, she's nice, I can see why the three of you
are so happy together."
"We only talked briefly about it last night; is there anything
about our, the three of us's relationship that you are curious
about, that you don't know and would like to?"
"Not really, Mr. Stewart. I would like to ask: could you and I
make love later tonight or this weekend, after Greg and I do?"
"Sure, you're a very pretty young girl, Beth, and I'd be
honored to" Beth just beaming back at him as we dove into our
slices of cheesecake.
"Beth and I go first, Dad!" Greg gently scolding and warning
his father.
'Sure, son, sure" he replied with mock amusement.
We went into the living room and put on a home movie of the
three of us and Kate making love, Kate doing a lot of the filming
before setting the video camera up on a tripod and let it roll as
she joined us. Beth's eyes got wider and wider as she watched the
action on the screen. Sitting beside her, Greg started feeling
her up, pulling her top off with one motion.
"How far have you guys gone?" husband asked.
"Dad!" Greg shot back as he kissed Beth's tit.
"Greg's taught me how to suck his cock, Mr. Stewart, and he's
eaten my pussy a lot, but we've been saving actual sex for
tonight."
"Cool!" I replied under my breath without thinking as I knelt
before Sandy as he sat in his easy chair and whipped his cock
free.
"Pat, Sandy, can I watch you two make love before Greg and I
try it?"
"Your wish is my command, Beth" meant literally from my mouth.
I sucked Sandy hard and then stood up before him, he pulling my
pants and panties down to my ankles, my tampon string hanging
between my thighs. Beth came over to me and gave me a nice hug,
naked body to naked body, and pulled at my string, pulling my
tampon free from its fleshcage.
"My period won't bother you tonight, will it, Beth?"
"Oh no, Pat, mom and I make love all the time when she's having
hers, not a problem."
Sandy made a mumbling sound about heading to our bedroom as he
stood up and put his arm around my waist, the kids following
behind us.
"Dad, after you screw Mom, I want to fuck her before Beth and I
fuck."
"Sure, son, whatever you want."
Clothes by all what was left of them hitting the floor, Sandy
and I scooted on the bed as he dove between my legs to eat me.
God, how I loved being eaten out on my period, and he knew it.
His cock hard now stood beyond rock hard. I knew he ate me out to
please himself, not me, but I was his slave, so it didn'tmatter.
To the side of us, Beth played with Greg's hard and he her
pussy as they knelt near us. Sandy crawled on top of me and
easily entered my blood-lubricated cunt, Beth scooting down to
get a closer look of my husband's cock poking deep and deeper
inside me. I could feel her touch my labia and play with his
member as he rode me.
"God, Beth, that feels good, play with my cock a little firmer,
please" husband called out to her.
Greg's hand also joined hers, more firmly pinching and pulling
my cuntlips and stroking his father's cock.
"Like this, Beth" he instructed her.
I could see the look of amazement on her face from below. A
finger joined Sandy's cock inside me, then two, then three. It
didn't feel like Greg's. They were Beth's.
"Pat, can I play with your pussy some myself?"
"Sure" Sandy replied as he rolled off top of me.
Young Beth began an easy fisting of me, her small hand going
past her wristbone inside me as Greg started licking his father's
bloody cock clean as they lay beside us, Beth watching with glee
as he did.
"Damn, Greg" she sputtered out "you weren't lying about you and
your mom and dad!" her fisting of me becoming more rapid.
I just lay back and relaxed as Beth went to town on me. She had
obviously done this lots of times with her mother, and enjoyed
doing it.
"Now for a really good look at a man and woman making love,
Beth, scoot under us" as husband shooed her away for a moment,
grabbed me by my waist and flipped me over to all fours and just
rammed it home inside me, not that my pussy wasn't a'gaping from
12-year-old Beth's fistfuck of me.
She offered me her crimson-stained hand before scooting under,
and I accepted, licking my hemoglobic essence from her tiny
fingers as I would have been sucking five little cocks.
"Wow!" was all she said a couple of times from a point of view
to the side and underneath me, watching Sandy's beyond fully
erect cock slam its way home. She and Greg both touching us as we
fucked, dearest hubby didn't last long, and neither did I, he
slapping my ass hard several times as he came inside me, my
cervix feeling the force of his blast before collapsing on the
bed next to me.
"I'm sorry Greg, but I just got to have this" Beth whispered as
she dove down on Sandy's cock, licking and sucking my sticky
rouge residue from him, licking him as clean as she could. Greg
looked a little hurt and jealous, so she play-poked at him with a
"why don't you fuck your mom a little, then I'll lick you clean
too, 'k?"
I got on top of my most handsome of stepsons as I had done a
hundred times in the brief calendar of our lives together and
began riding him.
"Dad, hand me a crop, please."
I thought things were going to stay vanilla for fear of Beth's
12-year-old sensitivities, but I was wrong. Retrieving one from
under the bed, Sandy handed my favorite crop, a thin little
black-leather-clad short buggywhip actually, to Greg as he then
began flicking my nipples then striking my breasts at a 45-degree
angle as they hung pendulously in front of his face.
"Who's my slut, mother?" he barked.
"I am."
"Hmmmm?"
"I am your slut, my son" replying meekly as I continued to ride
him and Beth now scooted beside us to kiss me.
"Do you enjoy that, Pat, being whipped?" she asked.
"Yes, Beth, a lot."
"May I whip you some too?"
"Sure, if you'd like."
Greg handed her the whip and she began immediately working my
ass over, the reddening welts rising on my buttocks almost
matching my menstrual blood flow covering Greg's cock and balls.
Sandy had been allowing things to progress without him but now
wanted part of the action.
"Slave, turn around and face away from Greg and lean forward so
you can suck my cock."
Beth stopped her whipping of my tail long enough for me to flip
around before starting to flay away at my back as husband shoved
his cock roughly into my mouth and down my throat. I could see
from the corner of my eye that our little Beth was enjoying
things a little too much.
"Greg, this is so cool; can I do other things to your mom?"
"Sure Beth, anything you like, she's our slut for our pleasure.
But first you got to suck me off like you promised?"
Beth pushed me off and dove onto Greg's cock which was now a
solid crimson tide red, Sandy then myself joining her at his
perfect 12-year-old manhood. He hadn't come yet but our three
mouths and tongues were pushing him towards it. Beth sensed it.
"No, everyone stop, I want my Greg's cock in me now, everyone
stop, Greg, you get on top and fuck me, now!"
"Would you like me to open you up a little first, Dear?" I
politely inquired.
"Thank you, Pat, but that's not really needed; mom's been
frigging me since I was ten or so, and I've been using tampons
since getting my period; Greg's cock won't be a prob'."
Beth lay down in the middle of the bed with Sandy and myself on
either side of her as Greg scooted between her legs his cock
still bloody from my period leakage and with an ease which
surprised us all entered her, taking her male-to-female
virginity.
"MMMmmmmmmm . . . " was all she could say.
I sucked one perfectly puffie 32B breast, her nipple getting
hard between my teeth, as Sandy sucked the other one and our son,
yes, -our- son fucked away at his girlfriend.
"Mom, lick my cock as I fuck her."
My tongue bathed my loving son with all the passion I could
muster. Ferric feminine essences of my own touched my soul deep
inside me. My son was taking a virginity offered from love, and
was loving every moment of it. Sandy in the meantime had shoved
his cock to Beth's face as she began a polite nibble of it.
"Greg, come inside me, I want you to come inside me, now!"
"Mom, lick her asshole, lick my asshole, help us come!"
"Yes Dear."
My tongue found their respective anal buds which indeed drove
them over the edges of imagination. I felt my own orgasm then
felt a slug of fresh uterine shed gush from inside me to run down
my thighs.
Greg began pumping away furiously then unexpectedly came
quickly and rolled to her side, pulling her close to him.
"Mr. Stewart, Sandy, fuck me, please!"
Husband didn't need any further encouragement. Pulling away
from her mouth he quickly slid atop her and entered her, she
gasping a little at his force. If only I had a cock to join in
the fun, if only I had a cock.
"How does that feel, Beth?"
"Wonderful, Mist-, eerrrr, Sandy, wonderful."
"Hey Dad, let's double her!"
"Okay Son!"
She didn't object. I'm not sure she knew what they meant at
first, but she didn't object. Rolling over to atop him, Beth
began a slow rolling rock fuck of my sweety as Greg motioned for
me to suck him back hard, his 12-year-old hormones quickly
achieving another erection. Fucking me for a couple of moments
for lubrication, he used my blood to help part Beth's anal
tightness, she audibly gasping for air at first but not
protesting as he entered from the rear my two loves double
fucking little Beth for everything she was worth.
"How does that feel, Beth?"
"Uhhhhh, uhhhhh, wunnerful, Pat."
I wanted to help them all get off but didn't know what to do
next. Getting the toy bag out of the closet, I handed Beth some
nipples clamps and needles as Sandy fucked our guest. She shot me
a silent look of "what are these for?".
"Stick the needles in my breasts and nipples if you'd like,
it'll turn the guys on!" I audibly answered her.
Sandy was flailing away too much for her to safely work the IV
needles in my breasts, so she just began pulling and squeezing
them as hard as she possibly could.
"Harder, Beth, squeeze them harder!"
Little sweet 12-year-old Beth instead leaned over to put her
mouth on my right nipple and then bit the living shit out of it,
drawing blood with her young sharp teeth while chewing on it
before letting her weight fall back down to atop Sandy. That did
it. With Greg pumping away as hard as he could inside her
asshole, grabbing her hips and holding on, both he and Sandy
seeing what she did to my poor tit little rivulets of blood
running down from the teeth bite marks, they both came as she did
too, all of us collapsing in a heap on the bed.
For a good fifteen minutes or more we just kinda of dozed a
little together. My blood puddled underneath where I lay. Greg
and Beth lay face-to-face, as Sandy and I did as well, our four
bodies a'jumbled all over each other.
Silence. Pure golden silence. Then a "wow, Mom, Beth, Dad, that
was incredible, thanks, thanks a lot!"
"Sure, Son, your Mom and I are glad you enjoyed it so much.
Beth, did you enjoy everything as much as you seemed to?"
"Yes, Mist, yes Sandy, sorry, yes I did. It was beyond my
wildest dreams."
"Is there anything you'd like to do that you haven't?"
"No, Pat, not really. Tomorrow I would like to invite mom to
come over, if that's okay."
"Sure, but she told us she didn't want to do a scene with us."
"I know she will, once I tell how incredible you all are. Can,
would you invite your Aunt Kate tomorrow too?"
"She does have a live-in boyfriend that doesn't know about
things, but sure, if she can get away, sure."
"Pat?"
"Can you and I make love while I watch Greg and his Dad make
love too?"
"Not a problem" Sandy interjected "not a problem at all."
I held Beth tenderly in my arms as Sandy and Greg began their
play inches away from us. First s sixty-nine, then Sandy entering
his son from the side, fucking his ass with a practiced rhythm.
As they made love, Beth's hand once again pushed my legs open and
her fingers delved deep inside me. We kissed passionately. My
hand found her pussy, she jumping a little from my touch,
apparently still sore from its heavy-duty workout moments ago.
"Sore a little, Dear?" she just grinning a sweet fuck-you grin
in reply.
Greg now on all fours as Sandy fucked him in the ass, Beth now
rolled underneath to kiss him as his face lay atop a pillow and I
playfully lapped at her exposed cunt in my face.
It was going to be a perfect, perfect weekend indeed.
-30-
Please send all comments to:
planet_dweller@yahoo.com
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