The Wilson Family Saga (Part 3)

Chat

THE WILSON FAMILY SAGA BY JGE POWERS (PART 3)

FEEDBACK ALWAYS WELCOME: [email protected])

CHAPTER NINETEEN (Continued)

It was after 9 AM when Gordy left the Crotty mansion.

Juanita hadn't wanted him to leave. He smiled as he

remembered her wild, untamed passion. They had screwed on

the kitchen table, on the floor, and on the counter top. She

had sucked his cock dry, all the time, praising its size, its

strength, its youth. She really did like young stuff, he

thought, and finding a prick his size, really set her off.

She couldn't get enough of it. He remembered how she begged

him to cum on her face; how she slurped at the creamy

droplets of cum running down her cheeks, her forehead.

Wow, he thought.

Gordy had never lost his hard-on. He really amazed himself.

Even now, as he biked his way home, he still wasn't totally

satisfied. He laughed to himself. Hell, I'm a horny

bastard. He wondered what Joanna was up to. Calling his

stepmother by her given name seem to take some of the

incestuousness out of their affair.

Gordy realized that he was on Milrose lane, where

Margie Hart lived. He contemplated stopping; decided

against it, then saw Plain Penny sitting on Margie's porch.

He pulled up in front of the house. "Hi, Penny.

Waiting for me?" She really wasn't bad looking, he decided.

"As a matter of fact, I was. But I was hoping you

wouldn't show."

"Well, I wasn't," he said defensively, "Then I saw you

and decided to stop."

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

stops for me."

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

depreciation.

She ignored the question. "You know what they got in

mind, don't you?"

"Breakfast."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Gordy. You know I'm

not. You've been the whole topic of conversation all night.

DeeDee's sister," she continued," told her what a big - you

know - you have. They've been plotting how to get you here.

And now you're here."

Good old Marlene, can't keep her mouth shut, Gordy

thought. "Do you believe everything you hear? And what's

your piece of this action? Are you the guard or something?"

"Look, Gordy, the only reason I'm here is because my

Mother and Margie's are best friends. 'Invite Plain Penny to

the party', she mimicked. "Don't you think I know I'm no

beauty? I've been told often enough."

He smiled at her. "I think you're rather cute - in a

tomboyish way. Really, I do."

"Don't tease me, Gordy."

"I'm not. I do think you're cute. It's you who

doesn't think so, but I'm still confused about what's going

on."

Penny gave him a disgusted look. "DeeDee and Margie

want to check you out. Jump your bones. Orgy time. Is that

graphic enough for you?"

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

"I don't like to see anyone used. Especially people

like us. They look at us strange because we have brains. I

don't want them to use you."

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

of them?"

She threw her head back and laughed heartily. "Gordy,

I'm a virgin! Probably the only fourteen year old virgin

left in California. I don't want to be a virgin, but I don't

think the place to lose my cherry is at a group grope.

Besides," she said, "I don't stack up against Margie and

DeeDee."

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

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

He leaned forward and gently kissed her. Her response

was immediate. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue into

her mouth and exploring its interior. She began to pant.

Gordy gently fondled her breast. Small, but round and

firm. She really wasn't a stick, he though, just taller

than most girls her age. Her body was in proportion, hidden

under baggy clothes.

"Gordy . . . that feels so good." His hand slipped

beneath her sweatshirt, and he rolled her erect nipple

between his fingers. "Aaaaaa . . . Gordy . . . I think I

came."

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

cum."

She gripped his arm. "They're upstairs waiting for

you. I'm supposed to tell them when you get here."

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

you."

Plain Penny turned out to be anything but. He was

pleased and delighted by her whip-hard body, and he was

truly amazed at her willingness and her passion. She was

multi-orgasmic; running from tiny cums to major climaxes.

She came when he kissed her tits. She came when he stuck his

tongue in her cunt. She even came when she sucked his raging

cock; his jism, sliding down her throat, triggered it off.

And the moment his prickhead parted her pussy lips, she came

again. And kept cumming.

Penny bit her tongue, drawing blood, trying to hold

back her screams, as her body pulsed with pleasure. She

thrashed around so violently that Gordy had trouble holding

on. Each stoke sent her into a new convulsion. She tried

valiantly to be quiet, but it was almost impossible. When

Gordy finally shot his load, her legs squeezed his body in a

death grip and she moaned loudly. They pulled apart in

almost total exhaustion. His whole body ached; his back was

raw from her nails, and his shoulders bore her teeth marks.

"Christ," he panted, "you're wild! I can't believe

you. That was really your first time?"

Sweat misted her body and she shivered as the air

licked across her skin. Her breathing was returning to

normal, but her face was still flushed. "Uhhhhmmmmmm . . .

I'm in Heaven. Don't break the spell," she said, "And, yes,

that was my very first fuck." She rolled over and faced him.

They were in the downstairs guest room. The bed looked like

World War III had hit it.

"It was a great first time, Gordy. You didn't do it

out of pity for Plain Penny, did you?"

He kissed her. "Don't call yourself that. Pity had

nothing to do with it. You have to think better of yourself.

If the guys at school knew about you, you wouldn't have time

to breathe."

She giggled. "Maybe, you should sing my virtues like

Marlene did yours . . . Would you mind if I went with other

guys?"

"Everything in life is an experience, and life should

be experienced to the fullest. No, I wouldn't, as long as

you don't forget me." He sounded very profound.

"I'll never forget you, Gordy. I've learned more about

life in an hour with you than I ever did from any book.

You're an education . . . "

Before she could continue, the bedroom door flew open.

A very mad Margie Hart stood there. "They're in here, Dee,"

she screamed, "I found them." She turned on Penny.

"You're a pig! You were suppose to call us when he

came, not go off with him by yourself."

DeeDee Sanford barged in and started to yell, too.

Penny cowered beneath the sheets. Gordy jumped up, his

jollywopper flapping in the breeze. "Shut the hell up, both

of you. Who do you think you're talking to, anyway? Give me

any shit and I'll belt you one."

"My God," DeeDee exclaimed, "look at the size of that

thing!" It was a statement, not a request.

"Shit," Gordy said and quickly got back beneath the

sheets. Penny moved closer.

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

luck."

"Yeah," DeeDee added, "When do we have some fun? We're

upstairs playing with a phony dick, and Penny's down her

with the real thing."

"Ladies, you flatter me, but as you can see I'm

somewhat occupied with this young lady here."

Penny hugged him tightly, uncovering her firm tits in

the process. "Thank you for that, Gordy, but . . .," she

spoke shyly, " . . . don't you think my education is somewhat

incomplete?"

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

She paused, looked at the other girls, then nodded

slowly. Gordy smiled and threw off the covers. "Well,

ladies, it looks like we have a full house." He hugged Penny.

There was a scramble between Margie and DeeDee to be

the first one undressed.

CHAPTER TWENTY

It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon when Gordy

left. This stud business could be a real ball buster, he

thought. Three oversexed teenagers was almost too much to

handle. He smiled as he remembered the various pairings and

groupings; the daisy chain; the wonder on Penny's face the

first time another girl ate her pussy; his cum splattering

three eager faces as they all indulged in a group blowjob;

three upturned, pert and pretty asses waiting for his prong

to enter. What a morning!

He pedaled slowly. He was in no hurry, besides his

legs were stiff. It was shorter going home through the

College campus, so he turned and headed across the

quadrangle. Students milled about. As he rode by the

Student Union, he saw his sister, Carol, and he waved. She

waved back vigorously. Carol was talking to a tall, good-

looking black guy. Gordy knew him but couldn't remember from

where. Then it came to him. Peter Duncan. Serena's

brother. Shit! Small world, he thought. He looked back.

They were engaged in a very animated conversation. Hell,

maybe there is something to what Serena said. Go black and

never go back. He smiled. He was just glad that Carol was

happy. Picking up speed he headed home.

When Gordy walked into his house, his Mother was coming

down the stairs dressed in a bathrobe. Her hair was tousled,

her skin glowed, and her smile told all. She walked serenely

by, and patted Gordy's cheek. She was humming.

Max followed her down the steps. Gordy smiled and

started to say hello, then he saw the other man. Another

black man. Obviously this was Max's brother, Dr. Duncan,

Serena's father. Dr. Duncan looked embarrassed and tried to

avoid eye contact. Gordy looked at the two men, then his

Mother; the full implication hitting him at once.

Max patted his shoulder. "Just sharing the wealth,

young son."

He watched his Mother go into the kitchen, happy and

contented, oblivious to the tense scene in the hall. He

couldn't remember her ever being so happy. Max was right, as

usual. Gordy sighed and relaxed. "Hi, Dr. Duncan." Hell,

who was he to cast stones. Hadn't he screwed the good

Doctor's daughter? What irony, he thought.

"Er, hello, Gordy," the man said with an audible sigh

of relief, "It's nice to meet you." They shook hands like old

friends. Max patted his shoulder again.

"We have to be going. John's schedule doesn't give him

a lot of free time. Take care, young son."

"Yeah, see ya, Max. So long, Dr. Duncan." Gordy watched

the two men depart. His Mother walked up behind him and put

an arm around his shoulder. "Thank you, Gordy," she said

softly, "I love you." She kissed his cheek.

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

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Gordy was deep into a biography of Thomas A. Edison

when Carol cane into the living room. "Hi, where's Mom?"

"Huh? Oh, out jogging. 'Reconditioning the body' is

the way she phrased it."

"What are you doing?"

"Carol, love of my life, I'm reading. Is there

something specific you have on your mind?"

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

"Not intimately, but I know of him. Saw you two talking

today when I was coming back from my route."

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

He ignored the question. "What about Pete?"

"Well, it seems he's having some trouble with English

Lit, and he asked me to come over tonight and give him a

hand."

"Is that a play on words?"

"Come on, be serious."

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

"Er . . .," she hesitated, "his parents are going out

to the Country Club for dinner, but his sister, Serena, is

going to be home."

Gordy played dumb. He couldn't resist teasing his

sister. "So? This is a study date, isn't it. Why should

his sister interfere? Or do you have an ulterior motive,

sweet sister?" Carol threw a cushion at him.

"You sonofabitch," she said, smiling, "Of course I have

an ulterior motive, as you damn well can imagine."

Gordy laughed. "Okay, okay. You have the hots for

this Nubian savage. Far be it from me to interfere with the

Great White Huntress. What do you want from me?"

She hugged him tightly. "Oh, Gordy, I knew I could

count on you. Come with me tonight. Keep Serena busy so

Peter and I can get some time alone. Do you think you can do

that?

"He's really quite shy. Not cocky, like you. And I

don't think he's ever been with a white girl before."

"I find that hard to believe, but it just so happens

I'm free tonight, and I'll be happy to help you out in your

hour of need. No pun intended."

"Do you think you'll have any trouble? You don't even

know her, and she's my age, too."

"As a matter of fact, I do know the lady in question.

I'll make a phone call and clear the way."

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

"You bastard!" she yelled, "You've screwed her already.

And you let me squirm." She grabbed him and they fell to the

floor in mock combat. "Tell me everything. I want to know.

Was she better than me?" They rolled around and Carol came up

on top of him. She rubbed her mound against his cock. He

humped back.

"Don't start anything, girl. I have to save my

strength. I'm helping my sister in distress tonight."

And they both laughed.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

When nature called, Christine Ritter had a tendency to

use the Girl's Lavatory, rather than the Teacher's Lounge.

It was closer to her office. She had waited for the

chattering group of teeny-boppers to leave before she came

out of the stall. If she hadn't, there would have been hell

to pay, she thought. The conversation had been very graphic!

Actually, it had been humorous. Outlandish, even. Little

Gordy Wilson - super stud! She smiled as she remembered the

glowing description of super human sexual feats. No fourteen

year old she knew of was capable of such things. And damn

few men.

Christine Ritter was twenty-six. She had that Doris

Day wholesomeness about her that men found so vulnerable and

disarming. She dressed very conservatively, hiding a rather

foxy figure; long shapely legs, flat stomach, full, cherry-

tipped breasts, and a perfect heart shaped ass. Dressed as

she was, she'd rate a second look. In a bikini, she could

cause a traffic jam.

When she reached her office, she found it difficult to

focus her thoughts on the student records she'd been working

on. Her imagination kept conjuring up mental pictures of

the scenes described by the young female students of St.

Charles Academy. She would have expected such language from

DeeDee Sanford, but Penny Grifford had really shocked her.

It had also aroused her, but she refused to admit it. Since

she and the school track coach had broken up, she had been

celibate. Not the state she desired, but she was reluctant

to go in for one night stands. So when the need became

overpowering, she masturbated.

She crossed her shapely legs and squeezed her cunt lips

together. With just a little pressure she could bring

herself off. She felt her pussy juice begin to flow, and

a warm glow spread through her body. She was alone. Just a

little pressure, she thought. She snapped herself erect.

This was dangerous. She had a Student Counselling session in

moments. She glanced at her schedule.

'4 PM - Gordy Wilson' it said.

Gordy was punctual, as usual.

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

Chris was somewhat embarrassed and flustered in his

presence. Her juices were still flowing, and her imagination

continued to pull up mental images of this handsome youngster

and those young nymphs. "Huh? Oh . . . hello, Gordy. How

are you? . . . I'm sorry, I must have been daydreaming."

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

to say."

He has a lovely smile, she thought. Stop that! She

composed herself and began to take charge of the

conversation. "Let's see how things are going, shall we? I

can't believe you're having any difficulties."

He watched her go through his file. She's very pretty,

he thought, but her face was flushed, as if she had just

exerted herself in some strenuous activity. Gordy had always

liked his counselor, but he had never really looked at her.

Today he rectified that, and examined each visible part of

her. Her face, her body, her legs - good legs! The clothes

she wore camouflaged what Gordy perceived to be a lovely

body. He wondered how she would look naked. Did she fuck?

He shifted in his seat. He was getting a hard-on. He

recalled some rumors about her and the track coach. She

can't be a virgin, he thought. So why not.

Christine looked up. The smile was still there. His

eyes are incredibly blue, she thought, like Paul Newman's.

Why haven't I noticed them before? She felt her cunt

muscles contract. "Er . . . like I said, everything is fine.

Well, maybe English Lit could use some work . . ." She was

groping, trying to prolong the conversation, and she didn't

know why. "Your paper on Marlowe really wasn't up to your

usual standards."

Marlowe? he searched his memory. Yeah, a solid 'B'

without opening a book. He sensed a certain electricity. He

wasn't totally sure of his antenna, but there was something

about her body language; the crossed legs, the forward thrust

of her body, that gave Gordy some unspoken signal. Good ol'

Max, he thought. "Yeah, Marlowe. Er . . . not a guy you

really can get your hands around. Actually, I'm having just

a little trouble with the whole Lit class. I sort of find it

difficult to concentrated on the Arts.

Christine went into a detailed description of the need

for the Arts; aesthetic appreciation, well roundedness.

He caught a glimpse of deep, shaded cleavage. That was

his definition of well rounded.

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

An idea came to him and he jumped at it. "Hey, yeah.

That's a great idea. Could you find time in your schedule

for me?"

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

the English Department . . ."

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

"Yes, but . . ."

He pushed on. "It would mean alot to me, Miss Ritter.

No true egghead wants a class teacher to know he's having a

problem. It's a pride thing."

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

She fought down the sudden temptation to say yes. "I

don't have time during the day."

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

She paused, fighting the good fight. His eyes held

hers. A picture flashed in her mind - a long, rock hard

cock! You're a fool, she thought. "Er, well, okay," she

said, surrendering, "But I don't have time this week."

"How about Saturday?"

He was pinning her against the wall. "Saturday? . . .

Er, well, alright, Saturday."

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

Her alarm bell went off again. "My apartment? No . . .

that's out of the question - how do you know I live in an

apartment?"

Easy, he thought, don't blow this. "My paper route goes

right past your place. I've seen your car parked there. The

yellow VW?"

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

wouldn't be proper."

Shit!

"Suppose we meet at the park. It's just down the block

from me. Ten o'clock? You know where the park is, don't

you?"

"Yes, I know where it is," he said, trying not to let

his voice mirror his disappointment. Then he perked up.

Hell, it was a beginning. "Okay," he said. "Saturday at

10AM, in the park."

Christine Ritter sat back and looked at the empty

doorway. She was disappointed that he was gone . . . and

relieved. She had actually had a momentary urge to grab him

right there in the room. Wouldn't that have been something!

She realized that she had gone too long without sex.

Something would have to be done about it, and soon. Her

eyes closed. She was tired. In her mind she saw his erect

prick; thick, bulbous, alive! Shit, she was wet again. She

hurried to the Ladies room. She prayed that it would be

empty.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Carol parked the car in the Duncan's wide, circular

driveway. "Nice house," she said.

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

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

"Blessed are the Educators."

John Duncan greeted them effusively. "Hello, there.

You must be Carol. Lovely, lovely. Good to see you again,

Gordy."

"Thanks, Dr. Duncan," Gordy replied as he shook the

older man's hand.

"Cecilia," he yelled out, "the young people are here.

Time to go." He turned to Gordy. "Peter and Serena are in

the den. You know, I really appreciate you helping Peter.

Both of you. It wouldn't look good if a Professor's son

flunked English Lit."

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

Gordy?

"Sure," he said, but he was already thinking of how he

could turn things to the real reason he and Carol were

there.

The young people, as Dr. Duncan called them, greeted

each other like any normal teenagers: "Yo, what's

happenin'"

"Now I know why you're flunking," Dr. Duncan said to

his son. There was polite laughter. A knowing look passed

between Serena and Gordy as she pecked him on the cheek.

Cecilia Duncan swept in. That was the only word Gordy

could think of. He now knew where Serena got her good

looks. Serena's Mother looked deeply tan, rather than Black.

She was dressed stylishly, but understated. Everything

about her said: Class. Gordy wondered if she could fuck as

good as her daughter. He smiled to himself. You are

definitely a dirty young man, he thought. Gordy turned to

Serena after the Duncans had left. "Where are they going all

dressed up?"

"Oh, there's some big faculty thing at the Country

Club. Uncle Max is going to meet them there."

"They're always boppin' off some place. Real gad-a-

bouts," Peter added. He had suddenly joined the conversation

after directing his entire attention to Carol, something that

hadn't escaped Gordy. Maybe, he mused, this won't be as

difficult as Carol thinks. They seated themselves in various

casual chairs and sofas. It was unusually quiet. Serena and

Carol laughed simultaneous. "What is this," Serena asked, "a

wake?"

"Uh, well," Peter started, "what do we do first?

Study, boogie, or eat?"

"Any other alternatives?" his sister asked.

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

"Or . . ."

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

"Or . . ."

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

"Or . . ."

They looked at Peter.

"What are you looking at me for? I don't know what the

hell you guys are talking about."

"I guess we'll have to forgo all those good things,"

Gordy said, "and get right down to basics. Anyone want to

add another 'Or'?

"Or . . .," Carol started.

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

" . . . fuck!" Serena ended.

The look on Peter's face was priceless. They laughed

and couldn't stop. Peter continued to stand still, a

bewildered look on his face, but his eyes went wide when

Serena sat on Gordy's lap and began to kiss him passionately.

He felt Carol beside him, but he couldn't drag his gaze from

his sister and this . . . this kid. What the fuck's going on

here? His sister was letting a fourteen year old feel her

up! Carol pressed her body against Peter's side.

"Give you any ideas?" she said, and suddenly he came

awake. Carol had unbuttoned her blouse and he could see her

full white tits through the flimsy bra. His erection was

tight against his crotch. Fuck it, he thought, if Serena

wants a kid, that's her business. I'm not going to look a

gift horse in the mouth. Carol's hand was brushing against

his growing hard-on. "Com'on," he said in a choked voice,

"lets go to my room."

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

Just before Carol's mouth closed over his, he glanced

at his sister. Shit! She had a mouthful of white cock!

His White Goddess tugged at his zipper and squeezed his

swollen cock. He suddenly forgot what his sister was doing.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

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

solid brass."

John Duncan laughed. He loved it when his wife talked

dirty. It was such a contrast to her cool, sophisticated

exterior. "My dear wife, I think you're jealous. But as far

as I'm concerned, anything that keeps Max out of your pants

is fine with me, my lovely."

Cecilia playfully punched his arm. "You're so full of

shit. I only see Max once a year. Maybe. So it's natural

that we spend time together. Besides, you get too tired from

all your coeds." Cecilia continued. "That nigger thinks he's

cock of the walk. Everyone knew what they were going to do.

He was brazen; might as well've screwed on the dining room

table."

She was relating how her brother-in-law, Max, had

flirted outrageously with Helen Crotty; how close he had held

her while dancing, and how, without so much as a 'by your

leave', had walked her out the door and drove off.

"Isn't that Mrs. Crotty's problem?" John asked. "Would

you deny that poor widow woman twelve inches of good black

cock. Fantasy time, my dear. Get you all hot and bothered?"

he asked, with a leer in his voice. She took his hand and

placed it on her tit. In the darkness she had pulled the top

of her dress down. Her tits were bare, the nipples hard.

John almost lost control of the car.

She giggled. "I'm always hot and bothered, sailor boy.

But I was thinking about our standing in the community."

He squeezed her breast. "Fuck our community standing.

I've got a hard-on."

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

bed tonight."

He pulled the car into the driveway and parked at the

rear of the house. "The Wilson kids are still here. Let's

go up the back way."

"Was their Mother better than me?" she teased. The

Duncan's had no secrets from each other.

"Hush, woman. I don't want them to hear us," he said

as they walked past the den. Cecilia glanced into the room.

The drapes were barely apart. She stopped so short that her

husband walked into her. She hardly noticed.

"Wha . . . what're you looking at? I . . .." He

stopped short. Between the parted draped they saw two

bouncing buttocks, one black, one white, sliding down two

slippery cock shafts. Peter was screwing Carol Wilson, his

long black tool pumping rapidly in and out of her. Their

daughter, Serena, was in the throes of an orgasm. And young

Gordy Wilson was sunk to the shank in her dripping pussy.

The Duncan's watched in horrid fascination as Carol

leaned over and began kissing their still convulsing

daughter. Gordy's prick plopped out. "My God," Cecilia

Duncan whispered, "look at the size of that thing - and

Peter's. They're beautiful!"

John Duncan didn't hear his wife. His eyes were on

Serena's lush body, and the white cream seeping from her

cunt. They moved closer to the window. Cecilia could feel

John's prick against her ass. She leaned back into it. His

hands went to her still naked tits, and began playing with

her erect nipples, but his eyes never left the scene in the

den. Cecilia moaned. Her hands went behind her and deftly

unzipped his pants. His hard-on sprang out and she massaged

it. They watched the girls change partners.

Carol got off Peter and immediately began to suck her

brothers's cock clean, and back to life. Serena wasted no

time taking Carol's place on Peter's hard shank. The parents

watched as their son's hard, thick cock slowly penetrated

their daughter's sopping pussy. John moaned. Cecilia turned

and pressed her body to him. She kissed him feverishly; her

hand never leaving his erection.

He pushed her against the brick wall, and expertly

pulled her dress up, pushed her panties aside, and plunged

his throbbing cockhead into her black furnace. She came

almost immediately.

***

Peter floated in a dream world. He was wonderfully

tired. Blessedly spent. The image of his sister and Carol,

his White Goddess, ebbed and flowed through his mind.

Beautiful Carol! Serena! His own sister! Lovely,

wanton. He was in Paradise. The dream was intense. A warm,

wet mouth on his dick, the pungent smell of cunt in his

nostrils. He dreamt he saw his lovely mother furiously

sucking his rod. He knew it was a dream. Even as he shot

his load into her waiting mouth, he knew it was a dream.

***

"You really took a chance coming to my room after Mom

and Dad got home. What's the matter, dear brother, didn't

you get enough last night?"

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

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

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

"A dream? Christ, it was the most real dream I ever

had. But I guess you're right. Hell, at one point I

thought you were Dad."

Peter laughed. "Now I know we're on the same wave

length. In my dream you were Mom."

They both laughed and ran to catch the bus.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Gordy pedaled fast. He was trying to beat the rain

that threatened to fall at any moment. The air was humid,

and the sky overcast. He wheeled into the Crotty driveway.

There was no one in the pool. It was the first time that the

weather affected Mrs. Crotty's workout, he thought. That

meant she was in the house. He hoped it wouldn't screw up

his chances with Juanita. He shrugged philosophically,

tomorrow was Saturday, and there was always Christine. The

backdoor was unlocked. "Juanita?" he called.

The kitchen was empty. This wasn't shaping up well.

She was probably tending to her boss and wouldn't have time

for him. "Hello."

He turned towards the voice, but the room was still

empty. "Juanita? Where are you?"

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

Gordilito."

He started towards her, but she held her hand up to

stop him. "The Senora would like to talk to you."

"Mrs. Crotty? Why?

"Perhaps she wants to extend her paper subscription.

Upstairs, second door on the left. Don't forget to knock."

Then she was gone. Shit! Double shit, he thought. There

goes our time together. Second door on the left.

Instinctively, he wiped his sneakers and ran his hands

through his hair to smooth it down. He knocked softly and

heard a voice tell him to enter. Helen Crotty sat at her

dressing table and through her mirror watched Gordys'

entrance. She liked what she saw. Max, you bastard, she

thought, you had better be right about this.

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

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

Gordy was pleasantly surprised. He had expected a much

older woman. Mr. Crotty had been pushing 80 when he died.

This woman was only a few years older than his Mother.

He had no way of knowing that Helen Crotty was 14 years

older than his Stepmother. She was almost 50, but daily

exercise gave her the youthful figure of a much younger

woman. She turned to him and he caught a glimpse of thigh as

her dressing grown swirled. He could see the outline of her

nipples through the gauze-like material. He had no doubt

that she wore nothing beneath.

"I had a very interesting conversation with a gentleman

who says he knows you, and your . . . abilities. A Mr.

Duncan. Max Duncan. You do know him?"

Gordy went on guard. This was definitely not the

conversation he had anticipated. What had Max said? Had he

mentioned Carol? Serena? Hell, Joanna! "Er, yes ma'am. I

know Mr. Duncan."

"You look uncomfortable, Gordy. Please sit down and

relax. Here. Beside me." She patted the bench seat.

He sat reluctantly. She wore a light, pleasing scent.

It smelled sexy, and he felt his prick twitch. He wished he

had worn less revealing shorts.

"Mr. Duncan. Max. He says you're an exceptional young

man. Gifted, in fact. He was very impressed with your

credentials."

Gordy let out a deep breath. Shit. She was talking

about the egghead stuff! Max was Phi Beta Kappa and a Rhodes

scholar. Maybe she wants to sponsor me or something, he

thought. She put her hand on his upper thigh and squeezed.

Gordy knew immediately that he was wrong.

"I'd like very much to see your credentials." Her hand

was gently kneading his thigh. He fought to control his

growing erection. "Er . . . but . . . Juanita?"

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

"Of course, Juanita. I should have known. Juanita,"

she called. The Latin housekeeper entered the room wearing a

French maids uniform. Gordy's eyes bugged out. It was

fucking transparent! Cellophane! And she wore only black

hose and a garter belt beneath it. She curtsied and giggled.

"You called, Senora?"

"Yes, dear. Come here. Young Mr. Wilson was just

about to show me his credentials." She smiled at Gordy. "I

think Juanita has already seen them - up close."

Gordy laughed. It was great to be alive. It was great

to be a stud! He stood and dropped his shorts. His prong

sprang to attention. And it sure as hell paid to advertise.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Gordy stepped out of the shower, towelled dry, and

walked into his bedroom. He was bare-ass naked.

"Well, look at this, Carol," Joanna Wilson said, "An

unusual towel holder."

Gordy made a move to retrieve his towel, then thought

better of it. He shrugged, what the hell. Carol and his

stepmother wore only bathrobes. He didn't notice their high

heel shoes. He bowed gallantly.

"Although I'm somewhat at a disadvantage, how may I be

of assistance, ladies?"

"We went shopping today and we wanted to show off our

new clothes," Carol said. She smiled at her Mother

conspiratorially.

"Where are they?" Gordy said, looking around. Together

they opened their robes. Both were dressed in Opera hose,

garter belts, crotchless panties, and flimsy see-through

bras. Joanna was in black, and Carol in red.

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

They posed and pranced for his approval, laughing as

they played at burlesque queens. Joanna even did a credible

bump and grind. "I don't think we're a hit, Mom," Carol

said, " There's no reaction from the peanut gallery."

Joanna turned and bent over, revealing her lovely

asshole. She looked back for Gordy's approval. "I think

you're right, honey. Would you care to explain yourself, Mr.

Limp Dick?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I can't tell a

lie. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is pooped."

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

"That means he's pussy-whipped. Doesn't it? Where

have you been sticking that lovely pole?" Joanna pushed him

onto the bed and sat on his stomach. He had a lovely view of

her bushy mound.

"A gentleman never tells."

Carol joined her Mother and they began to tickle him.

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

Gordy squirmed, laughing, and rapidly ran out of breath

as each woman found a vulnerable spot. "Okay, okay. Uncle.

Uncle. I'll tell, I'll tell."

They stopped and he tried to catch his breath. "I'm

doing this under duress."

"Yeah, sure." They sat cross-legged, one on each side of

him. The views were outstanding. Gordy related his morning

adventures with Juanita and Helen Crotty. They were avid

listeners, and he warmed to his story. He kept the details

lurid. They laughed when he told them about Juanita's

transparent uniform - "I like that one," Carol said - about

Helen's wide eye look when his cock sprang out. The girls

could envision the story as he told it: fondling the maid's

tits while her mistress slobbered spit all over his dickhead.

They could see her legs spread wide, felt her eagerness as he

pushed his fuck-pole into her juicy cunt. They shared her

orgasm in their minds.

Joanna had laid down, and Gordy was gently stroking her

pubic hair. Carol leaned closer so he could play with her

erect nipples. He told them how Max had taken Helen home

from the Country Club and fucked her ragged. And when

Juanita went to see what all the commotion was about, he

plowed her, too. And as a gesture of good will, he had

advertised Gordy's virtues.

"So what else happened?" Joanna asked huskily.

Gordy shrugged. "We fucked, sucked, ate pussy - Helen

never ate out a pussy before, so that was brand new for her."

He saw the light in his stepmother's eyes. Pussy eating was

new to her, too. And she liked it. He watched as Joanna

locked eyes with his sister. He felt the electricity in the

air.

"What else?"

Gordy leaned close to his stepmother. "I reamed out

Helen's ass while she sucked my cum from Juanita's cunt."

That was all Joanna could take. "Do me, Gordy," she

whispered, "fuck my ass." Joanna buried her face in Carol's

pussy and began licking her daughter's clit.

"Uhhhhmmmmmmm . . . oh, yeah, Mom. Yes! There! Eat

me! Suck your daughter's dirty cunt."

Carol pulled her legs wide and held them close to her

tits. She purred like a cat when Joanna shoved two fingers

into her; one in her pussy, and one in her ass.

Gordy was fully erect, now, rock hard. His Mother's

ass was sticking high in the air. A perfect target. He

licked her bunhole and dribbled saliva into it. She moaned

at the touch. He positioned his rampant prick at her

asshole and felt her push back into it. Gripping her ass

cheeks tight, he drove his rod in to the hilt. She screamed

into Carol's box and came immediately. Her climax was

shattering.



To Be Continued

Chat
Related publications
Comments
Add a comment
Add your comment:
Your Name:
Your E-Mail:
Enter the two words shown in the image: *
Navigation