Lotus Flower Stew
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2018 by Lubrican

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8 - I couldn't help but wonder about some of the foreign exchange students I knew as I grew up. The girls, I mean. I was busy trying to get into their American friends' panties. I always wondered who was trying to get into theirs. So I wrote a little fantasy about that. It's probably a bit over the top. But after all, it was MY fantasy.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Reluctant   Fiction   Incest   Brother   Sister   Father   Daughter   Interracial   Oriental Female   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy  

A psychologist might have theorized that Fumiko just wanted something to seem “normal” to her. In her world, that meant a man, in this situation, took what he wanted. The difference from what was “normal” in her previous life was that she was willing to give him what he wanted, to be an active, eager participant in the event.

She reached for his penis and, to her shock, found it soft!

“What is wrong?” she gasped.

“I thought we were finished,” said Bob.

“We are not finished!” said Fumiko, this time almost comfortable with her assertive tone.

He grinned.

“I’m glad to hear that. Hang on. I think there are still some condoms in a drawer in Suki’s bedroom.”

Fumiko’s hand shot out to grasp is shoulder.

“I do not want you to leave,” she said. Her thoughts were not completely formed.

“But I need to get a condom,” said Bob.

“I do not want you to leave,” she repeated. Her thoughts had begun to gel.

She could actually see the change in his eyes. It was something that made her feel weak ... defenseless. His eyes became sharp ... almost predatory ... as if he might consume her. He got to his knees, and the soft thing she had just felt a few seconds ago was again long and hard, as if by magic.

“You want me to put this in you ... like this?” he asked. His voice was husky, as his hand slowly stroked his cock. “Without anything to protect you?”

She had to lick her lips and swallow before she could force an answer out.

“Yes,” she whispered. A small part of her mind had already calculated the risks, and reported they were low, at present. And in any case, this man was different ... special. If any man deserved to hazard her eggs, it was this one. Finally, she knew what condoms felt like. She wanted to see what this very different penis felt like.

Even as an animal ... he wasn’t an animal. Even as he did what she asked in an attempt to find something, anything that seemed familiar, he made it clear that her feelings were important. He did not, for example, just thrust it into her. Instead, he teased her with the tip, pressing it between her swollen lips, and rubbing her clit with it. He sucked at her nipples again, like a starving baby.

And when he did finally penetrate her, he went so slowly that, when his pubic bone finally tapped against hers, and then pushed hard to crush her elated clit, the sudden recognition of his complete penetration, touching her in places no man had ever touched her before, caused that orgasm that had fled with its tail between its legs, to scamper back, wagging that tail happily.

This time when she wailed, no one came in to embarrass her.


Fumiko lay in what some might have called a stupor. She wasn’t practically unconscious, however. She was, in fact, anything but unconscious.

Her mind was whirling as she tried to process everything that had happened to her. Some of it was from days and weeks past, but her mind kept coming back to what Bob had done to her most recently. No ... not to her... with her.

He had been like an animal. But, instead of being a lion who attacked and consumed its prey, it was more like they had been two cubs, joyfully romping and playing at being ferocious.

He had wrung two more orgasms out of her before pinning her to the bed and putting his lips on hers.

“I’m going to cum,” he panted.

She waited.

“I’m going to leave it in you,” he growled.

She couldn’t speak. She was too weak. She could only squeeze with her hands which, at that moment, were on his hips.

“Fuck, Fumiko,” he groaned. “I’m going to try to make a baby in you!”

She found enough strength to lift her legs and let them drop on top of his thighs. To be bred by this man would be an honor.

His groan of completion, only seconds later, made her feel like she was the most powerful woman in the world.

Now, as he snored lightly beside her, she wondered if the world would ever seem normal again. She already knew she would seek his bed again. Her manic fervor at the thought of the only man she had ever really welcomed inside her getting her with child had passed. She recognized that for what it had been - Mother Nature encouraging her to be fully a woman.

What if he had succeeded? Had his words been driven by nature, too? Was he having second thoughts about it now?

Of course not. He was sleeping.

What if her hasty calculations were incorrect? What if her womb did quicken with this man’s child?

She shook him awake. The boldness of doing this was strangely not concerning to her.

“What?” he asked, lifting his head.

“What will you do if you got me pregnant?” she asked.

He blinked sleepy eyes.

“We’ll have a baby,” he said. “Can we name him Charles?”

“What?”

“If it’s a girl, you can name her,” said Bob. “I’m not so good with girls’ names.”

His calm acceptance of the idea she might actually have his child was astonishing. That he joked about names was astonishing. Most of all, that the idea she might have a girl ... and that that was perfectly acceptable to him ... was astonishing.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

“Want me to try again?” he asked, reaching to cup her breast.

“Try?”

“You might not be pregnant,” he said.

He was joking. He had to be joking. But it made her feel good.

“Later,” she said. She moved to get up.

“Where are you going?” he complained.

“Do you wish to follow me to the lavatory?” she inquired.

“No, but come back soon. I’m cold,” he whined.

She almost laughed again.

Apparently all men could act like children, too.


Fumiko struggled a bit with the changes in her life after that. Everybody in the house knew that she had “served” Bob. She had not realized what her daughter was trying to do at that time. Now she understood she had been tricked ... manipulated, using her background. She still didn’t understand, completely, why her daughter and Emma had wanted her to become intimate with Bob ... to become addicted to the kind of experience she’d never had before.

That intimacy was part of what she was having difficulty adjusting to. Hiroto had almost never been intimate with her on an emotional level. When he’d had a big success in business, he’d be playful and engage with his wife on what seemed, at the time, to be an affectionate level.

But comparing that to what Bob now did to her was like comparing fruit to the tree it grew on. Bob smiled at her, touched her arm. Bob came up behind her, while she was slicing a banana to put in her cereal, and reached around her slim body to hug her. Bob was affectionate.

Her relationship with the others had altered subtly, as well. It was obvious that Suki was happy with what had happened. Emma was more reserved, but Fumiko assumed (correctly) that was just a product of feelings of competition. Bob made it clear he was available to both women, and his affection for Emma was obvious, but there was still some tension there, at least on Emma’s part.

The difference in Tim was subtle, too. She didn’t know if he’d ever looked at her before, but now she noticed he did. And what was in his eyes, sometimes, was recognizable as something that had been in other men’s eyes when they looked at her. Fumiko knew she was good looking. She had been informed of that many times. But her reaction to that was what a poodle might think after being prepared for a big show. If a poodle could think rationally. Before this, her beauty had been an asset carefully managed by her husband, so he might gain advantage from it. And own it, of course.

Tim, however, like his father, did not act like most men. He looked, but did not leer. He was interested, but did not pursue that interest.

She knew Suki saw those looks.

She also knew Suki didn’t mind.

All in all, it was a crazy world, a world she couldn’t have constructed in fantasies fueled by the strongest drugs.

And yet ... here she was. She was well-fed, living under a roof with people she cared a great deal for. She was happy in ways she’d never been happy before.

She wanted Bob again, but didn’t feel like she had the right to ask for him.

His comments about how important communication was came back to her.

So, gathering up her newfound courage, she asked to have a conference with Suki and Emma.


In Japan, Fumiko would have simply had the meeting in the women’s section of the house. Men would not interrupt them, there. The closest thing to that, in this strange country, was her bedroom. She sat on the bed in the same way she would have sat on the floor in Japan. Suki perched on the edge of the bed, one leg bent and on it, while the other steadied her on the floor. Emma stood, waiting to see why Fumiko had asked them to come there.

“I do not know how to feel,” said Fumiko.

“I don’t understand,” said Emma.

“I know there is much about America I don’t understand,” said Fumiko. “But even I can tell how strange this house is. What you have done is ... simply not done.”

Emma assumed she was referring to the incest between herself and her father.

“I couldn’t help it,” she said, starting her defense. “When my mother disappeared, I felt it was my job to take her place. As time went by I couldn’t help but think about all the things she had done for and ... with ... Daddy. I loved him so much and he was so lonely. I fell in love with him.”

Her voice was anguished and she looked hopefully to Suki for support.

Fumiko bowed her head.

“I am sorry for your difficulties, but that is not what I was speaking about.”

“Oh,” said Emma.

“I have heard of that kind of love in Japan,” said Fumiko. “What I have not heard of is a man being shared among three women.”

Suki reached to touch her mother’s hand.

“Mamma, we just wanted you to be happy.”

“You have many duties in life, but my happiness is not one of them,” said Fumiko.

“Of course it is,” said Suki. “You’re my mother. I love you. And now you’re here, and not going back to Japan. And yes, I admit that this family is very different from most, but we all love each other and we want everybody to be happy. You live here now.”

Fumiko looked grave.

“You came here, to this family, with its strange ways. You got with child. I argued with your father, insisting that you should marry the man who did that to you. I knew he would beat me for that, but I didn’t care. At the time, my intent was to give you the chance of a life in America like you could not have had in Japan, a life of freedom. I was torn, because my lotus flower was gone, and I would not see her very often. I was happy for you ... hopeful for you.”

“I am happy, Mamma,” whispered Suki.

“I know that,” said Fumiko. “It is plain to see.” She looked at Emma. “And it is plain to see how happy you are, too. What you have with Bob is ... odd ... but anyone could see it fills you with joy.”

“We just wanted you to be filled with joy, too,” said Emma.

“Oh, I was filled,” said Fumiko, “and I confess that much joy was involved.”

She spoke as if a man was nearby, listening, using the code that women employ to avoid being crass. A man might have winked at his friend and said, “Man, that woman was like a wild bronco. I rode her hard but she ‘bout near threw me twice.”

 
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