Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, boy, girl, Ma/Ma, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Drunk/Drugged, Magic, Gay, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, Post Apocalypse, Cheating, Slut Wife, Incest, Mother, Son, Brother, Sister, Father, Daughter, Cousins, Uncle, Niece, Aunt, Nephew, InLaws, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Sadistic, Torture, Swinging, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Orgy, Harem, Polygamy/Polyamory, Interracial, White Couple, White Male, White Female, Hispanic Female, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Fisting, Sex Toys, Squirting, Lactation, Water Sports, Pregnancy, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Double Penetration, Size, Teacher/Student, Babysitter, Small Breasts, Big Breasts, Clergy, Public Sex, Violent, Workplace, School, Nudism, .
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A large number of people of both sexes, couples, families, etc. all meet up and share rumors, ideas, and plans concerning a new colony of survivors of the recent apocalypse: a place called Haven. They share other things, too, such as some very hot bodies.
Justine Tremaine woke up extremely sore, hurting and aching in all three holes as she staggered to her feet inside the tent next to her Blazer. She had been gang-raped for so long that she passed out, cum oozing from her pussy and ass, as well as staining her face. She threw up what she could have sworn was several loads of cum as well from when Baker and his young punks used her mouth like another pussy. She had bruises on her face, a black eye, and a torn asshole as well. She limped for several minutes as she smelled the horrible stench of her own piss, which she rushed to washed off in the nearby creek. It was biting cold this time of year, but she preferred icy knives of the water to the stomach-churning odor of so many bodily fluids together.
When Justine looked at herself in the mirror, she wept at the brutal mess that Baker and his gang had made of her looks. Oh, she would heal and be her lovely self again, but the French-Canadian soccer mom would never quite feel the same way about herself ... ever. The realization that she had also cum repeatedly during the gang-bang didn't help matters. It was something that she had repressed about herself, refused to admit that it aroused her, but still she recalled how much she had actually enjoyed those cocks inside her while Baker and his boys wreaked havoc on her body. What was wrong with her, that she would moan and cream herself while being used and fucked so damn much? She came while they used her mouth, her pussy, even her ass in the roughest ways that they could, thus making her bleed from the last one especially. The memory of cumming while she took it from ass to mouth was enough to make Justine puke all over again.
Then the real worry struck home. In the midst of her trauma, pain, and shame, Justine had forgotten to check on her kids. Where were they? She especially worried about her twins, Anne and Therese. Those twelve-year old redheads had already started to mature ahead of their peers, so much that they looked fifteen easily. Were they with Baker or still somewhere around here? Justine searched frantically for them, as well as her ten-year old middle daughter, Chantal, and her only son, the youngest, eight-year-old Richard.
Well, the boy was easy to find, as it happened, since he made muffled screams through the gag in his mouth. He was bound and his shorts were down, confirming the worst. None of them had been spared the horrors of rape. Her daughters were all nude and tied up, too. That they weren't gagged was probably due to them not resisting or shouting like their brother. All of them showed signs that they had been repeatedly and constantly violated.
That wasn't the worst part. Baker and his guys hadn't left yet. They were just asleep, drunkenly snoring into the open air, having gotten tired before they remembered to tie her up at all. Either that or someone had gone back for an encore and neglected to restrain her afterward. That was when Justine made her mistake. Instead of killing the Bakers, she simply untied her kids and headed back for the Blazer. She started up the engine, only once she had held her children and dried their tears a bit. Her clothes were destroyed and she was cold, but she opted for escape over getting dressed again. Still naked, the divorcee tried to back out and drive away. Unfortunately for Justine, her tires were slashed ... yes, all four of them.
The noise alerted Baker and his goons, who forced open the doors and yanked Justine and her kids out of it. They threw them back down on the ground and tossed the scattered remains of her dismembered boyfriend, Gaston, at them. It was clearly meant as a warning. Justine hadn't wondered too much about what had happened to him, mostly because she feared the worst and didn't want to know it. Now it confronted her, as the thugs flaunted what they did to her late, lamented lover in her face.
"I don't know if that faggot screamed more while we buggered his ass or while we carved him up alive. He came, though, when we rammed his ass, which means that he was a queer, a homo. Yes, that's right, slut, your beau was a real cocksucker who loved to get it up the ass as well. No wonder he couldn't protect you. Not that you really wanted him to. You came so much while we fucked you that I almost thought I was in porn for a moment," Baker sneered, reveling in his new power.
"You raped me! Raped all of us! It wasn't sex, it was RAPE!" Justine screamed at him, sickened by what had happened to her boyfriend while she came during her gang-rape ... the guilt was overwhelming.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, but you and your twins all got very wet and moaned loudly when we fucked you. They take it after you, I guess. How old are they? Fourteen? They're yummy, too. Their bodies are growing fast. Must be just about done with puberty, I suppose. That explains it," Baker snickered, as did his friends.
Justine held her kids close while they shivered and feared to look at the goons. She worried greatly about what might come next. Gaston had proved to be less than a stellar boyfriend in many respects, but not least of these was his failure to stand up and defend his family. On that point, Baker was quite correct. Since they had fled the suburbs, Gaston had shown himself increasingly hopeless at anything about survival. Justine had been forced to take charge and give him orders just so they wouldn't starve. That she, a mostly typical suburban working mom from Montreal, knew more about such things than Gaston did reflected very poorly on her choice of partners.
Her ex-husband, Charles, had been very different. A rough and ready fellow from Maine, he was of French stock as well, but the similarities ended there. He hunted, fished, and practiced target shooting until he was a damned good marksman. He was twice as large a man as Gaston, but he was no gentle giant. The man had chased off muggers with baseball bats before when they tried to gang up him after games.
This was before she had divorced him while back in Canada for the summer and then successfully pushed for custody in the courts there. She had counted on him staying in Portland, but he had surprised her by moving to Quebec to see his kids regularly and secure visitation rights. That stunt succeeded because it impressed the judge in the trial case as proof of a devoted father. It was too bad that he couldn't have been in town when all hell broke loose, but he had been called back to Maine for urgent business and as far as Justine knew, had never returned.
Right now, Justine would have traded Gaston and anything else to have Charles with her again, protecting the family as he used to do. She had hated his violent ways and that had been among the factors in their divorce, but now she realized that he was right all along. Her crazy Yank ex-husband wouldn't have been a victim, and neither would she or the kids. Everyone had supported her back then, but they were just as wrong. So, on top of everything else, Justine felt guilty about leaving a good man for a pathetic wimp like Gaston. Charles had taught her how to do what was needed to survive, and must have felt just as frustrated as she did when she tried to guide Gaston. Yet more guilt and remorse now filled her.
Also, she was worried. Where was Charles? Would she ever have the chance to make it up to him? At this point, she would have crawled back to him on broken glass to be his wife again and have the children safe as well. Maybe that was why she had never married Gaston or had his babies yet; the subconscious fear that he might be the wrong man for her. Of course, there was also her Catholic upbringing, which frowned upon divorce and remarriage.
Charles had never been the poster boy for marital fidelity, but frankly Justine was worse about it and she knew as much. It was bad enough to cheat, but to dump the strong and steady father of your children to be with a panty waste like Gaston added insult to injury. Indiscretions aside, Charles was still far better husband material than Gaston ever could be. Besides, adultery was a traditional vice in many countries, hers included. Justine couldn't think of a single man in her family who had been entirely faithful to his wife, and many of the women had been naughty as well.
Those were the thoughts that Justine had while trying to comfort her children and waiting to see what Baker and his thugs had in mind for them now. That was when she made a decision. Whatever happened, she would be strong for her children. She wouldn't let them be harmed again. If she had to die in the process, either from fighting or from being fucked, Justine would protect her family from these thugs. She would do whatever it took, but she would save them from being raped again, and especially from being murdered or tortured.
Justine had an impulse and went with it. She knelt before Baker, her mouth open and clearly offering him head. He grinned savagely and went for it, thinking with the wrong brain as usual. He knew that he was right about this cunt. She was a slut who only needed a decent gang-bang to turn her loose. Those were his exact thoughts as he pumped in and out of Justine's mouth, and then he suddenly felt the sharp pain of her teeth sinking into his cock, biting hard on it. He screamed and twisted her nose just long enough that he could force her mouth open and free his mangled dick. It wasn't gone, just bleeding and punctured, possibly ruined by her vicious bite.
Baker couldn't stand the pain and he doubled over, at which point his friend and protégé Curtis took pity and cut his throat with a Bowie knife. His blood flowed freely now and Curtis finished the job by snapping his neck. Seconds later, the disgusting rapist known as Baker was dead as a dog and left to his fate by his so-called friends. Even so, they wanted to teach Justine a lesson, so each man lit a cigarette and started to put it out on her flesh, making her shriek in agony, but they didn't get very far in this pursuit.
Shots rang out, particularly buckshot, and three of the six crumpled to the leaf-covered ground. The others tried to flee, but the shotgun fired off again and again. Finally, one of the crew limped away, but not before another sound went off. This was a sharper report, and it came from an AR-15 in another direction. The last ruffian dropped to his knees and then crashed to the earth.
Two men came into view for Justine. One was a stranger, about half the other guy's height, but still wiry and strong. He carried the rifle, while his companion, much more familiar, wielded the shotgun. They didn't seem to know each other. They were just drawn by the same screams, that was all. Clearly, however, they had the same bright idea: kill the thugs and save the family.
As Justine looked closer at the man with the 12-gauge, she realized who it was. Charles, thank God! It was her wonderful ex. She was so excited to see him that she forgot to wash the blood out of her mouth before kissing him on the lips. He grimaced and spat out the revolting fluid, causing her to realize what she had done. Instead of trying that again, Justine simply pulled her ex-husband back to her and pressed her bosom to his. He pulled away and she felt as if he had struck her, something that he never did in spite of his supposed violence.
"No time for that. How are the kids?" Charles stated baldly, but his voice shook with horror as it became apparent what had taken place. His family had needed him, and he was away, damn it!
"Daddy!" the girls and Richard all ran to him when they saw their savior. He held each of them and let them weep as long as they wished, not trying to stop them at all.
"Where is Gaston?" Charles finally asked as the other man stood by and inspected the area, not wishing to intrude in what was clearly family time.
"Dead," the stranger said at last, "Assuming that these are his remains. Who is Gaston, if I might ask?"
"My boyfriend, or he was. No great loss to me. Tabernac! I should never have left you, Charles. We belong together, not split up by some stupid little yuppie who didn't know better than to break up a good marriage like ours. I know, I know. I was a rotten excuse for a wife, but I never realized just how patient you were with me until today. I don't know your name, sir, but perhaps you can witness this. I am reversing the usual custom, because it's my turn to propose. Charles Tremaine, will you take me back as your wife? I know about the other women. I just don't give a fuck anymore about that. Sorry, kids, but Mommy has to say that this time. I knew about the others all along, but I used it as an excuse to leave a man like you, who frankly is the best guy I've known in my life. I don't deserve you, but I want you back. I'm selfish enough to want you back. Take me back, please. Marry me all over again," Justine pleaded with her ex-husband, on her knees.
"I wasn't that great of a husband, either, and I can't promise not to cheat again, I warn you. It's my nature. Still, the kids need us back together and I think that we shouldn't risk this happening again. Clearly, you need me around, babe. That's a damned good start to a marriage, at least like they had in hard times like these in the past. I don't know if this is love or not. I don't personally give a rat's ass, either. We're a family. I came back to find you after this whole thing started, and I've found you at last. This was what I feared for you and now that it's happened, I won't let history repeat itself. However, from now on, let's be clear about something. I am in charge. I'm the boss. I wear the pants in this marriage. Is that agreed?" Charles declared, much to Justine's relief.
"Thank you, honey. That's all I want from you. I want us back together and taking care of these kids. They're going to need us more than ever now that this has happened to them. I agree to your terms. I surrender. Complete, unconditional surrender, too," Justine decided abruptly.
"Smart girl. Alright, let's get this place cleaned up and camp out for a while. We need to rest and recover before moving on. You, sir, what's your name?" Charles inquired of the stranger with the AR-15.
"Mike Hawkins. No relation to Sadie or Sophie, in case you're wondering. Are you Americans or Canadians? Your wife sounds French, but you don't," Mike asked in turn.
"I'm the Yank, as they say around here. Charles Tremaine, from Portland, Maine. You don't miss much, do you? My restored wife here is of French stock, yes. She's from Montreal, or nearby at least. Justine, thank the nice man for helping save you," Charles urged his ex.
"Yes, thank you, sir ... Mr. Hawkins," Justine blushed, recalling that she was still naked.
"Call me Mike. Nice to meet you folks. Sounds like these times have more effect than counseling in terms of reconciling couples, if you ask me. Still, it's a tragedy, all this death and suffering. Murder, rape, mayhem, what kind of crime isn't rampant lately? You guys must not know where you are, by the way. You've crossed over into Vermont, or what was Vermont, at least. We're about two miles west of the New Hampshire border. Damn shame, all these goons around. If you ask me, the only answer these days is to put them all six feet under. Trials can come when we have law and order again, a functioning society. Pleasure to meet you folks. Mind if I tag along? I promise you, I'll behave. I'll even take orders, since you know your way around a shotgun better than I do with my AR-15, and that's saying a lot," Mike suggested.
"Well, we could use a guide, in fact. Have you heard anything about any large communities forming? I hope that we can locate such a colony and all settle down to work as part of it. Then the kids will be safe and able to be kids again. They can go back to school and all of that. The last thing that we need is to be roaming the wilderness permanently," Charles pried.
"As it happens, I'm looking for one in particular, but I'd rather we headed there together, for all of our sakes. It's called Haven, and it's a considerable distance from here, just a warning. Rumors have spread that many outlaws are fleeing as far from this 'Haven' as they can go. Something to do with men with guns and shit like that. Rumor has it that they have a whole armory at the place. There is some kind of militia that reports to the leaders of Haven, who they call Elders or something like that. Word to the wise, though. It's a religious colony, so that could well mean a cult of some kind. Still, shouldn't we look for it before we judge it?" Mike advised Charles, who nodded in approval.
"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Okay, let's go searching for Haven. Who knows, it could be just the place we need, or that needs us. Which direction is it?" Charles agreed, though he still intended to camp there for a while and rest. Today was no time to begin the journey.
"For now, however, let's make camp and get this all cleaned up. Justine, don't you have any more clothes for the kids to wear? They're all naked except for Richard, and he's half-naked. For that matter, where are your clothes?" Charles continued, taking note of Justine's nudity and the fact that she seemed a little too comfortable with it.
"Honey, please don't worry about me. I'm alright. A little chilly, that's all. To be honest, I kind of like being naked. It feels right to me. I could get used to it. I must be a nudist at heart. I'll find the kids their clothes, however. They're in this bag," Justine looked for them in the back of the Blazer, discovering to her horror that they were all gone as well. The goons had to have deliberately discarded or destroyed them.
"Sorry, they must have gotten rid of them, dear. Please forgive me," Justine hung her head this time, feeling ashamed that she had failed to even secure the clothing, let alone the innocence, of their children.
"Baby, it's not your fault. You were raped. They probably chose to do this once you were unable to stop them. Damn, there are cigarette burns on your skin! How badly do they hurt, honey?" Charles's hands roamed Justine's body, stroking her chestnut hair lightly as his eyes examined her for such burns.
"Pretty bad, dear. They tortured me in that way and others, but I should have been strong enough to resist them. I couldn't save any of us, including Gaston or even Richard. I failed badly, honey," Justine began sobbing.
"That wasn't something that you could control. That's why you should have stayed with me, among other reasons. You did better than I expected, frankly, but you're still a soccer mom. You're not cut out for this life, not without me. Now, let's get the little ones washed up and everything set up, too. They might not have clothes, but at least they can be clean. Well, at least Richard can put his clothes back on, but you'll have to wash them, too. Frequently, since they're his only clothes, and that means that even he will have to be naked now and then. Poor fella.
"Then again, maybe it's for the best. I've often wondered if clothing was a wise invention, at least outside of its most utilitarian functions. Modesty and self-consciousness aren't exactly healthy. Perhaps he should get used to nudity now. I just don't want to encourage the pedos, but it's too late for that," Charles remarked with his typical disdain for conventional mores.
"Well, that's a valid point, and sad to say, I fear that their innocence is gone forever. Not that I want to encourage any further crimes against them. I'm just saying that they have seen naked bodies and are well aware of their anatomy by now. You can't put that genie back into the bottle. I hope for their sakes it doesn't ruin them for life, but only time will tell. They're our kids, but they're never going to be the same again. I can just tell," Justine shuddered at that awareness.
"It's gonna be okay, and you're right, of course. Honey, for now, let's focus on what needs to be done, and then we can look better into the future. Mike, since you want to come with us, mind if we ask you about yourself a little more? Justine, get the kids washed first, and then worry about the rest. Mike and I are going to talk for a bit," Charles commanded his ex-wife, who was only too willing to comply.
"I'm, or was, on my third marriage. I have no fucking clue where my wife is, if she's still alive. You're luckier that way. My exes are all gone somewhere as well. My kids? Who the hell knows? I just returned from Afghanistan when this whole crazy shit started up. Some of my buddies are still probably stranded over there. Who the hell knows how they'll survive, if they do? Me? I made it home barely in time to be too late. All that I have left of my stuff I carry with me, down to the buck knife and my guns. I choose not to torment myself with mementos of kids I'll never see again. Anyway, seventeen years in the Army, gone just like that. I was three years away from my pension! Just three! It would have been a much better life for sure. Well, assuming that the pension system didn't go broke, of course. That turned out to be a real shock to the system," Mike ranted about his past.
"Anyway, I keep getting radio traffic on the CBs, or what's left of them, speaking of this 'Haven' place. That's where I hear these rumors, you see. All kinds of nice things about Haven. You don't have to lock your doors at night. You can make deals with a handshake and on someone's word of honor. That sort of thing. It sounds like the place that people of my generation heard about but have never seen, short of a trip to Amish country. Thankfully, I believe that these people have more than horses and buggies. They are religious types, but I'm not clear about the exact nature of their teachings. I don't reckon that I'll find out until we meet them, however," Mike rambled on.
"Yeah, definitely piquing my interest, that much is clear. How about you, babe?" Charles agreed.
"I follow the leader now, dear, and that's you. I'm just grateful that you rescued me and took me back, along with the kids, of course," Justine answered with real feeling, as she was indeed glad to be his again.
Justine was about done with Richard's bath by now, and while the girls were actually more than old enough to bathe themselves, they seemed to agree telepathically that there was comfort after their ordeal in having their mother do it for them. It wasn't long before it was clear to both Charles and Mike that each victim needed some medical aid for the injuries inflicted by Baker and his gang. They were more than ready to apply it, though in Justine's case, Mike found it awkward due to the mutual attraction. He wasn't ready to cause trouble with Charles, so he kept his dirty thoughts to himself, of course. He was somewhat aware about how Anne and Therese felt about it, too, but he had even more reserve about the idea of the twins after being told their age. It was weird because of their more developed state, but he did his best to ignore that as well.
The camping out situation lasted about a week, while the men hunted and gathered to find enough food for their little group. Justine, of course, kept busy with the cooking, cleaning, and nurturing, very much a housewife these days. They didn't have a lot of time or energy for much else, nor was anyone in a particularly sexy mood, but that was sure to change in the near future. Generally speaking, they were all too busy to bicker as well, so they got along fairly well.
However, things came to a head at the end of the week, when the small group of refugees were joined by a couple from the area, the Reiners. Bill and Bethany Reiner had six children to the Tremaine four, and Bethany bulged with the evidence of yet another bun in the oven. They seemed a fairly happy pair, so this was essentially just extra labor and support, not to mention more reinforcement of the idea of Haven. The Reiners found the notion of such a place extremely welcome, so now there were five adults in the little band of travelers, three men and two women. Mike was still the odd man out, but he didn't mind so much for now, as it was still temporary, and he was still adjusting to the state of marital limbo in which he found himself.
That was when the others showed up. There was Rupert Grossman, a rabbi of all things, from Concord, New Hampshire. He was also a widower and perhaps a little too used to it after ten years since Jane died. At fifty years of age, he had lost much of the weight that he gained during his marriage to her. He wasn't alone when he showed up, however. In his company, or rather on his arm, was Cecilia Barros, a rather enigmatic professor of anthropology at Concord College, whose sultry Hispanic beauty combined oddly well with her nerdy glasses and short, jet-black hair. Cecilia was on remarkably good terms with Rupert's younger sister Naomi, a shockingly atypical librarian who still looked more like a Jewish-American Princess at age forty-two than anyone might have expected.
Finally, there was a rather odd trio: Larry and Helen Bryant with their British friend, Chelsea Worthington. Helen was a paralegal working for Chelsea, while Larry was a bit close-lipped about his chosen vocation. It wasn't long before it came out, however, when Helen snapped at him for something and Chelsea intervened to calm her down.
"Oh, so you're boning my boss for legal advice? Not just a pot-dealer, you have to be a gigolo, too! When were you going to get a real job, Larry?" Helen shouted at the man.
"If I slept with her, it's none of your business lately! As you told me last month, our marriage is on paper only! Well, that applies to fidelity, too! I very much doubt that you've been faithful to me, have you? Tell the truth and shame the Devil!" Larry cursed her back.
"You're right, I said that. I'm just in a rough spot, ever since you lost your job, turned to dealing pot, and stole my girlfriend! Well, boss, too, but Chelsea is supposed to be MY girlfriend, not yours!" Helen exploded, "Why couldn't you get your own booty without taking her from me?"
"Oh, so the truth comes out. The two of you are lesbian lovers, admit it!" Larry confronted them.
"Were, darling, not are. Helen's wrong as to why, though. It's not that I don't wish to sleep with her. She has such a sweet cunny and laps rather well mine indeed. It's rather that I am annoyed with her for cutting you off and treating you with disrespect. I love both of you, silly fools, and I wish that both of you realized how much you still need each other as well as me. It's flattering, but dance with the one who brought you, dears. You're doing much better at this, Larry, in that you're not confused about your emotions and still want both of us, but you're still far too angry and need to calm down a little. You're giving yourself an ulcer and not explaining things well enough to be understood when you're so emotional.
"Helen's problem is different. You think that you're gay, love, but you're not. Trust me, I've known actual, true-blue dykes and you're hardly one of them. Neither am I. I'm bisexual, darling. We do exist, trust me. You're one of them yourself. That's why you're so torn. Half of you is still attached to Larry, but the other half feels obligated to leave him for me, which I never asked of you, nor did I desire it. You never should have cut him off. I wanted to seduce both of you in the right way, but you forced my hand, so I bedded Larry early to give him back his manhood that you stole from him. I admit that I used the whole idea that it was his way to pay me for services rendered, because I figured that would undercut any scruples he might have to the proposition.
"What I want from both of you is to behave like mature adults and accept that we can all be lovers. I freely admit that I'm rather polyamorous and I love being that way. Given the chance, I'm likely to bed any reasonably handsome or strapping fellow I can find around here and not think twice about it. That's just my way. However, I do have soft spot for you two. You're my sentimental favorites, if you will. Monogamy just isn't in the cards for any of us, and I think that future civilizations will simply kick it to the curb. I hope to God that this Haven place leads the way in freeing mankind from that moralistic claptrap. Now, how about kissing, making up, and getting to know our neighbors?" Chelsea read her partners the Riot Act, much to the amusement of the others.
"I dare say that we know your names, at least. Justine Tremaine here. This is my wonderful husband, Charles, who treats me a lot better than I deserve. These are our children, starting with the twins: Anne and Therese. Then there are Chantal and Richard. We're hoping to find Haven, too," Justine announced.
"Isn't everyone? Haven's all that most of us talk about half the time. A place to be safe and get out of these Dark Ages at last. A place to rebuild and start fresh," Larry commented, while Helen and Chelsea both proved how happy they were now by nibbling on his neck.
"Very much so," Rupert chimed in, prompting Naomi to smack him on the ass, which in turn made Cecilia giggle.
"I believe that it's my turn. I'm Mike Hawkins, and I've been staying with the Tremaines for over a week now. Until recently, I was a helicopter pilot with the Army, stationed in Afghanistan. I don't honestly know where my wife, my kids, or my exes are. Who wants to go next?" Mike introduced himself, noting the friendly looks that he got suddenly from Chelsea of all people.
Nor was she alone for long in this. Naomi Grossman walked over to Mike and planted one right on his mouth, much to his utter shock. Chelsea and Cecilia followed soon, also stunning him. Mike felt very self-conscious and even blushed due to being treated to so much female attention after a drought of it in his recent years. His wives were often cold to him toward the end, though warm at first.
"I'm Bill Reiner and this is my wife, Bethany. These are our children: Bart, Benny, Betsy, Billie, Bo, and Bunny. Yes, we liked going with the letter 'B' for our kids. The one on the way is supposed to be named Bijou, since we're getting too far in the alphabet not to start over. How about you guys?"
"I'm Rupert Grossman, a rabbi back in Concord. This is my fiancée, Cecilia, who has some rather unorthodox ideas which starkly resemble Chelsea's. She's in cahoots with my sister, Naomi. Basically, they want me to break the Torah and marry both of them. Something to do with necessity and Cain's wife. I've been struggling with this idea, but they're pretty stubborn and I don't know how much longer I can resist. I suppose that if we join Haven, however, we might have to explore a lot of new ideas. Communal marriage or free love might well be among them, I'm not sure. It's the incest that's hardest for me, though Naomi is enough to turn on any man with a pulse. Anyone else?"
"Well, as you can tell, I'm Larry Bryant and this is my wife Helen. This is her boss and my lawyer, Chelsea Worthington, originally from Newcastle. We're from Beaumont, Texas, ourselves. As you can see, the three of us are growing closer. Any questions?"
"Other than just how much of an ice queen did you think that I was when we first met, love?" Chelsea teased her lover.
"More than you'll ever know," Larry picked back at her.
"I put on a good front, but underneath the ice there is a good deal of fire, love. More than a few men and women have learned what I'm about after I seduce them into my bed, after thinking me a frigid cunt.
"Anyway, here's a standing offer to the group, and I hope that no one takes this as a plan to 'steal your spouse.' I'm offering all adults in this group my sexual favors on demand, for the rest of the journey. Yes, that's right. I'll sexually gratify any of you, orally, anally, or vaginally, as often as you wish, even simultaneously, for the duration of our travels. Ask and you shall receive. I don't do this often, making such proposals without the benefit of any strings attached to that many folk at once, but I want to be of service to the community, and this is my new community, right? It's time to prove once and for all that my blood is warm," Chelsea stunned everyone present with her generous declaration.
"That includes women, right?" Charles pointedly asked her.
"Naturally, darling. We're adults, too, right? Are you asking me on behalf of your lovely wife? If so, don't forget to add your own sweet arse to the picture. No sense in missing out, right, love?" Chelsea urged him, batting her lovely dark blue eyes at him.
"So, are we all just swingers now?" Bethany laughed, her hand stroking Bill for effect.
"We could be if we all agreed to it," Bill responded, partly to get even with her.
"I'm game," Charles declared.
"Whatever hubby says goes," Justine stated with the sweetest smile that didn't hide her predatory lust, especially for Mike.
"Count me in," Mike chuckled, figuring that there was no point in fighting the magnetic pull toward sharing that this group all seemed to have.
"In many primitive cultures, communal love was a great way to socialize, bond, and resolve conflicts. Men and women had a lot more in common, more of a vested interest in pulling together, you see. It happens among bonobos, too. Besides, if it gets dear Rupert here to loosen up a tad, I'll all in favor," Cecilia consented with a wink at both of the Grossmans.
"It's not easy loving a rabbi, but he's our rabbi and we're gonna do it," Naomi agreed, caressing her brother's chin.
"Is the marriage still planned, though?" Rupert wondered, somewhat confused.
"Certainly. I want the Grossman name, too. It's not fair that Naomi gets it if I don't," Cecilia pouted, prompting Rupert to touch her cheek fondly.
"See? He's a softy, too," Naomi needled her brother.
The ice was broken and the new tribe or clan had formed, so it was only a matter of celebrating the occasion with a family meal of sorts. It was largely made of venison and canned goods, but it did the trick, especially when Bill Reiner produced some Sam Adams from his ice chest, passing down bottles to each grown-up. The kids felt a little confused by much of this, except for the twins, both of whom giggled and snickered a lot when they realized that there would be a lot of hanky-panky. They didn't even mind that they might be stuck with some babysitting duties. After all, if this happened, they would soon be of age themselves and get their fair share of booty. Both of them wanted Mike in particular, though not exclusively by any means. The younger kids were just aware that their folks were happy and that was good news for them somehow. That was all they needed to know at the moment.
Once the kids were asleep, the adults really let off some steam, especially after all of that work. That was when everything became hazy, at least through the daze created by the copious amounts of beer consumed. They were all a bit blurry, but he vaguely recalled everyone getting naked. Several had already agreed to an orgy, and no one had objected, so it was just a matter of acting on their desires.
Mike Hawkins awoke hours later to a mouth surrounding his cock, evidently long engaged in sucking him to full hardness. He tried to warn the lady in question that he had to piss soon, but the mouth wouldn't stop sucking him, nor the tongue licking him to the max. Whoever it was, she had incredible suction and he felt as if she was determined to squeeze every drop of his cum from his balls at once. Before Mike knew it, he exploded in the mystery woman's mouth and she audibly sucked and swallowed every drop that she could gather. When he warned her that he was about to piss, however, she opened her mouth wider as if to catch his pee.
"Give it to me, please," Justine's voice broke the silence at last.
"Hubby wants me to thank you properly for saving us and this was how we decided to do it. I'm your slut until the debt is paid. You have carte blanche. Do whatever you want to me. Fuck me in any position. Once this is done, I will go back to my husband and he will welcome me back with open arms, he promised. I'm on loan until then. Think of me as a temporary wife, if you prefer. Now, please, let me drink your piss," Justine begged him.
Mike wasn't one to argue with such a demand, strange as it was. He peed down Justine's cum-filled throat, truly stunned at how eager she was to swallow the stream of gold. He didn't understand it, but Justine washed out her mouth in the sink of the bathroom where he was. Bathroom? It took him a while to realize that he was in the bedroom of Rupert Grossman's RV. How he ended up there, he had no idea. What he did know was that having Justine at his disposal for however long he wanted was more than enough to get his motor running, and it didn't long for him to get hard again. The sweet Quebecois woman lay on her belly, offering up her other two holes for his use with no apparent regrets or reluctance. Then again, he was aware that she was partial to him since they met. She loved her hubby, but she clearly liked him as well.
Well aware that Justine's asshole was still a bit tender, Mike opted instead for her soft, slick pussy and was rewarded by the reaction of complete arousal once he slid inside her. When Mrs. Tremaine met his strokes with her natural enthusiasm, Mike had several times to fight back cumming instantly. He hadn't been laid since he left for Afghanistan after his last leave, and he had a huge build-up, especially since he had resisted doing anything until he could confirm his wife's death. That resolve had crumbled, along with his hopes of finding his missus and children, as Mike was now balls deep in Justine's sweet cunt.
It was far too much to hold out much longer, even after cumming already in Justine's soft, wet mouth. After two more strokes, Mike lost all self-control and spurted a smaller, but still decent load inside Justine's pussy, the seed pushing toward her womb and doing its natural job of making another life. Yes, Justine Tremaine had just been knocked up by Mike Hawkins with her husband's blessing, though she wasn't aware of that yet. Still tired from that long night and longer week, Mike drifted back to sleep and Justine slipped in beside him to snuggle.
For Charles's part, he had a very different experience, as he had lent his wife to Mike and still wanted some pussy for his own. It was time for more strange and he knew exactly where to get it on that booze-drenched night. He found himself approaching Chelsea, starting to explain things out of habit, since he was used to convincing women to fuck a married man. Chelsea cut him off immediately, putting her lovely hand to his mouth.
"Darling, there's no need for your biography here. Do you want my body or not?" she asked him curtly.
"Well, yes, and you said that... ," the normally proud and resourceful man continued to ramble, but she stopped his mouth yet again.
"You already said the magic word, love. The word was 'yes.' That's all I needed to hear. Now, come on and fuck me silly, you randy Yank stud," Chelsea stripped completely below the waist, still keeping her top on as she bent over to let Charles have her.
Charles found himself buried to the hilt inside Chelsea and she didn't let him go until dawn. She rode him whenever he was too tired to be on top, but she also let him take her several times in other positions. She fucked him as many times as it took to scratch the itch that she suddenly had for him. While she went out of her way to defer to him and let him take control whenever it pleased him, there were long moments when she was very much in charge. Chelsea Worthington was the rare woman who might match Charles's potent libido. She also loved how much of a manly guy he was, this former Marine who had served in Iraq and loved outdoor activities. He was such a Yank, and she loved that, too.
She also insisted on bareback, especially since condoms were a relic of the past now. The population of Haven would need to grow fast, so the more babies the better. That was one of the reasons that Chelsea bedded Larry as well, and she had designs on Mike, Bill, and Rupert, too. By the time that the Sun rose, Charles was drained in practically every sense of the term. That aristocratic British strumpet had emptied his balls every time they had a chance to replenish their seed. Most of it ended up in her pussy, but she also took a load each in her mouth and her ass, which was a bonus since they wouldn't cause pregnancy.
"Darling, you're so delicious, but I think that we're both too sore for any more action for at least a few hours. Still, it was my pleasure to serve you, lovely man. I hope that your friends are as comfortable with a woman like me, one who loves shagging for its own sake. You did well, love. I shall walk bow-legged probably for the rest of the day. Thank you, dear," she kissed him with a great deal of tongue and got out of the truck bed of Justine's Blazer.
"Oh, you're very welcome, ma'am," Charles grinned despite the soreness of his flaccid and well-used cock.
"Don't be so formal, love. You had me fifty ways to Sunday. Call me Chelsea, please. Trust me, I'll come back for more soon. My treat," the English lawyer blew him a kiss as she walked away, still wearing her birthday suit with Charles's cum still leaking down her wobbly legs.
Mr. Tremaine shook his head in disbelief at what a sex goddess the Brit had proved to be, despite her icy veneer, and then he got dressed and checked up on the youngsters. Since Justine still had her debt to pay, he would watch them for the bulk of the day. That was a pleasure, too, as he had missed and indeed genuinely adored his children. He just didn't see the forest for the trees and couldn't tell that his twin daughters in particular had plans for him as soon as they could act on them. To him, they were still his little girls, of course.
For Rupert's part, he finally succumbed to the temptation and so found himself in bed with his own sister, Naomi. Cecilia was on the other side, but it was clear that most of the sex had been incestuous, Cecilia mainly working to warm him up for his sibling. They had oral sex of both kinds and went cowgirl for some strokes, but every time that night, Rupert emptied his load inside Naomi. There was clearly some agenda, but it was hard for Rupert to resist the double seduction. He didn't learn until the morning that every time he came inside Naomi's cunt, he helped her fight back against her biological clock, sending potent sperm toward her very present eggs. His swimmers were sure to do the trick, too, given the time of her cycle. Cecilia's price had been to get a chance to have his seed when her turn to conceive came around. Thus Rupert Grossman woke up between his fiancée and his sister, both of whom were quite happy to lie there with him.
As for Larry and Helen Bryant, it was almost a second honeymoon, renewing their old passion in bed, the wife doing her best to make it up to her husband for neglecting and mistreating him. He didn't fuck as much as make love to her in the more romantic sense, though there were moments where he let out his anger and aggression and she happily accepted it. The anal part was especially painful, but Helen gave him her cherry there, as Chelsea had mysteriously refused to take it or do more than play with it. Now Helen understood: Chelsea thought of the long-term and believed that when the ménage a trois that she sought for them happened, Larry should get his wife's virgin ass. Helen was now pleased that Chelsea did that for her, especially given the temptation to go ahead and take the offered hole. It proved that Chelsea cared for both of them.
She was also glad that Chelsea had cut her off to teach her a lesson after Helen had cut Larry off. She recalled how strangely the Englishwoman had reacted to that news, and then she realized that Chelsea must have seduced Larry immediately after she grasped what Helen was doing to her marriage. Whereas Helen had been working toward a divorce so that she could be Chelsea's alone, Ms. Worthington had planned for a loving trio all along. Chelsea knew that Helen wasn't a true lesbian and wouldn't be happy without Larry after all. Helen realized now that Chelsea knew best for the three of them. She now agreed with the plan and to complete it, she was especially thrilled to enjoy her husband's body, the one that she had prepared to foolishly give up, once more.
For Larry, he was in seventh heaven, as he finally tasted the pleasures of his wife again. Helen was no longer cold to him. She was hot for him instead. She submitted to him this time, offered her body up for his pleasure, and demonstrated repeatedly her desire, love, and passion for him. This was the wife that he missed for quite a while, back in the flesh and eager to please. Larry came in his wife so many times, made her cum so often as well, that both of them collapsed onto the bed in the trailer that they had seized on the open highway some time back. They slept the sleep of the truly satisfied at last, a long, dreamy slumber that restored both body and soul.
For the Reiners, well, Bill was a bit drained already, but he managed to give his increasingly horny pregnant wife a good, solid roll in the hay and fall asleep, only to be awakened for more. He took the hint (and some blue pills), giving his good lady wife a really hard pounding while they each thought about swinging and swapping at last. Could they really do it? Maybe ... trying it once couldn't hurt, could it?
"Honey, would you be willing to go with that plan of sharing everyone, or at least give it the old college try?" Bethany asked, feeling chatty after sex as she often did.
"Well, it's not the worst idea I've ever heard, but I hope that you realize that it goes both ways. Sauce for the goose and all that," Bill warned her, not sure how jealous his wife might get, seeing him with other women.
"Baby, I can testify all I want to your prowess, but I think that it's high time the ladies tried you for themselves. Every woman deserves this kind of happiness if you ask me. Did you think that I was just after my jollies? For one thing, you're always climbing the walls when I'm too sore for sex. Now you don't have to be. It solves that problem permanently, if we can get it to work out," Bethany reassured her husband that she meant it.
To be honest, Bethany loved having Bill's seed growing inside her and wished to see it do so in others, too. She had a serious fantasy about getting other women knocked up by her husband. Then again, she also thought about carrying another man's child. Maybe it was the whole idea of mixing up the genes, maybe the naughty thrill of bastardy. Maybe it was all of those things. Whatever it was, Bethany badly wanted this experiment to pan out, so Bill and she could have babies with other people at last. She had recurring dreams where all of the women in the camp were knocked up and each of the men took turns causing it.
When Bethany confessed this, Bill laughed and said, "Damn, that is a hot fantasy. I can see why you'd like that. I would enjoy it, too, and it would bring everyone closer in this group. I would love to knock the various women up and see the men do the same to you. It's a very primal kind of fantasy, but that's part of the charm. Womb-swapping, I guess you could call it."
"Or seed-swapping," Bethany winked at her hubby, and then pushed his face into her bosom, "Now, please suck on my tits. I need to make more milk and you can help me that way."
Bill was shocked, but he soon found that he loved it, so he awakened the next morning to a face full of breasts.
"Bill ... what if I told you my other fantasy?" Bethany teased him, but kept his face buried in her tits.
"What's that?" his muffled voice came out through her cleavage.
"Having you knock up the twins," Bethany laughed and then pushed his face down to her pussy, which he began eating furiously.
She never did see the look of absolute shock on her husband's face, but she already imagined it and laughed inside ... yes, that would be so fucking hot. Anne and Therese Tremaine, each carrying Bill's kids. She also didn't know how close they were to having it happen. Today was truly the first day of the rest of their lives, and last night was only the beginning of what awaited them.
While there was plenty of work left to do, and certainly the kids had to be watched (they were in turns, each parent getting the chance to supervise for a good stretch of time), the next few days were a retreat of sorts for everyone. In the case of the grown-ups, sex was the escape of choice, and what a delightful one it proved to be.
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