Chapter 29: Family Time

With Mom, Dad, Abby, Betty and Cathy all watching, unblinking and in shock, I rolled Andy off me. She did not even groan when her head thudded against the floor. She was splayed out in all her naked glory, which is quite glorious I will admit, but I knew she would be mortified to have them see her this way. Why, you ask, would a woman who screamed for a man to fuck her up the ass as she was bound over a whipping horse in a New York City bondage club watched by several hundred people, be embarrassed by being seen naked by four women and a man in her own home? Hell, I don’t know, but she would.

Cathy saw my desperate glance, grabbed a comforter and threw it over Andy. I heard Mom gasp as I stood to pick up and carry her to the bedroom where I lay her on the bed and covered her over. When I kissed her lightly on the lips, her eyes popped open and she pushed me away.

“No, Davy. Too tired. Too sore,” she mumbled before she fell asleep again. I slipped on some chinos and returned to the living room. My family had not moved. Dad was staring at the place Andy had been and his cock was at attention. In his mind, he was still seeing Andy naked and the thought of her body was driving him wild right now. Mom had noticed Dad, too. She was eyeing him thoughtfully.

“So, everyone had a good time in Aspen?”

“Great time,” Dad said. We all started talking about everything but the sight they saw when they came in. Cathy just had to know.

“What happened to Andy?”

All right. Here is a dilemma. All of them were programmed by Uncle Bert to be my kittens, except Dad who was a horny old tom cat. But, they were not currently under programming so anything I said or did would be received by them as if they had never been programmed.

How to answer? Honesty in family relations is important, you know.

“She had one hell of an accident skiing yesterday. Took a real bad tumble coming down a black diamond slope.”

No one was buying that. In for a dime, in for a dollar.

“She was lucky she did not break anything. It was a really bad accident.”

“Oh?” Abby said. “How does one get a hickey on a tittie in a skiing accident?” The three sisters giggled nervously as they watched Mom for her reaction. Five days ago they would have received a long lecture on both their language and the proper subject for discussions by young ladies. The programming I gave Mom held. She just smiled and said, “I bet Davy gave her the hickie. What do you think, Charlie?”

“I don’t know. But, I know I need to lay down for a while. Why don’t you come with me, Alice?”

“I think I will. I could use a short nap myself.” They must have been real tired because they ran for the bedroom.

“Can you believe it? I think Mom and Dad went to fuck,” Betty said after the bedroom door was safely closed. All three started babbling about the general ramifications of knowing your parents are off fucking, which has been a topic of discussion between parents as well as children since time immemorial. I watched my sisters.

Ever since Uncle Bert, in that first message Andy gave my six months ago, said he had fucked all three of my sisters and all of my female cousins, I had wondered what they would be like in bed. As you remember, I had Cathy the other night. I planned to have Cathy again but Abby and Betty were different. Sure, I loved them and I would do anything for them. I just never wanted to fuck them. Well, maybe a little, but not enough to even beat off with them as the fantasy and certainly never as much as I wanted Cathy. I beat off thinking about her many a time. It occurred to me that knowing Uncle Bert had fucked them made me want them just to have them, almost like a prize or sharing a reward a friend had, not because they were desirable women and wonderful individuals in their own right. Was that the devil dog? Or, was that just being male?

I was contemplating and they were gossiping when the back door opened and Mary called a friendly hello. We all went to help her. Amid the rapid female banter, I realized I was not needed. I left them happily talking about the age when people quit enjoying sex, not that any of them were old enough to know. I slipped out of my chinos, lay down on the bed beside Andy and closed my eyes. Sleep quickly came and I dreamed again.

Andy, Cathy and I were at a white, old fashioned, wrought iron, table, the kind you see in ice cream parlors, sitting in those matching wrought iron chairs. We were outdoors under a large tree, like a Paris street scene from an Impressionist painting in the museum, with gaily dressed people in late nineteenth century clothing strolling nearby. You could hear the chatter and the music of a organ grinder on the street corner. We were eating ice cream sundaes from tall glasses, using long-handled spoons.

Andy and Cathy were dressed in dresses of the period, sexy, full frocks with low bodices emphasizing lush breasts, waists tightly constricted and corseted, and loose skirts with hems to the ground. Andy was unbelievable, her already narrow waist drawn down to only eighteen inches by the corset. It also pushed up and displayed her breasts, making her hourglass figure even more pronounced. She was coquettish, flirting with me shamelessly (at least, shamelessly for that time period). Although it was obvious she would welcome any advance I made to her, I was uninterested in sex. I was naked and my cock was flaccid.

The devil dog was lying quietly beside me, as any well behaved dog would be with its master. “Diablo,” Cathy called. The giant dog raised his head to look at her. Cathy slid down in her chair and put her feet on the edge of the table, spreading her legs invitingly. She raised her skirt to her waist. Underneath, she was wearing the white hose of the period, which were attached to the corset by garters. She was panty less. Her pussy lips were already plumped in need and her hairy bush had been neatly trimmed. She opened her knees wider.

“Pussy, Diablo. Pussy,” she said in a high, childish voice as if offering her pet a treat. The devil dog crawled between her legs. She flinched when his cold nose touched her hot box, gaining her smells. His long, thick tongue began to lap at her slit. I could see his tongue enter her, see the wetness of his saliva and her juices, coating her pussy lips and upper thighs. I could see her clit quivering when his sandpaper like dog’s tongue brushed against it. She was groaning loudly. The passers by did not notice her or us but continued as if we were not there.