In the Long Run
Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 107: Blind Trust
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 107: Blind Trust - Mark and Lydia hit a lot of bumps during the cold war and fate eventually brings them to the other side of the globe, but even there the challenges don't end. This is the founding story of my planned "It's always the Germans" universe, which will be created when this story reaches the year 1998.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Sports Incest Mother Son Light Bond Orgy Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Fisting Massage Oral Sex Pegging Petting Nudism
Lydia
This was going to make me leave a trail of pussy juice behind. I had never said so out loud, but my exhibitionist streak did not extend to unpacking my tits only. Mark knew it to a degree, but it was a secret I had not even shared with the other girls. After so many years of power play in sports, so many years lording over my opponents, I had developed a real knack for being on the receiving end once in a while. I wanted to be used, I wanted to be a slut once in a while. And from what I could read, Mark had picked up on it.
Look ahead and memorize the area. Blindfold yourself and find your way to the stack of firewood. Wait there and present yourself to be used every which way.
Holy shit! He had riddled me out completely and I was positively gushing between the legs. The trouble was that the stack of firewood was some thirty meters away, next to a small log cabin the middle of the woods. Finding it while blindfolded would have been a lottery at best. But of course my love had thought of that and I realized he had put some rope around various trees that would guide me to the target. Granted, it wasn’t exactly a straight line, so I would make a substantial detour through the thicket. I suspected my better half wanted to observe me traipsing through the woods, blindfolded and stark naked, and I was only too willing to indulge him. I put the blindfold on and started to feel my way along the rope.
Mark
I hadn’t come alone, of course. I had worked out quite some time ago that Lydia had a bit of a submissive streak. It wasn’t as extreme as Nadja’s, but it was hard to miss that when having sex, she wanted me to call the shots. To give her what she craved, I had called in the cavalry for help - Mario and Jogi. The two of them had patched up their relationship after Jogi’s decision to move to Schalke 04. Mario was the domestic type, not wanting to leave his home town and his better half, Ilka. For Jogi it had been the perfect move. He was a starting player in the U19 team and had even gotten a late game debut in the team’s latest Bundesliga game of the season. Today however, I required some other talent from him, and luckily he was in town, visiting his folks for the weekend.
We watched Lydia find her way to the target area, and when she had arrived, she obediently presented her glistening rear-end for perusal. The sun reflecting off her ass left little doubt that she was lubed up copiously and that meant there were no points for guessing what she wanted. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t going to happen yet. With no way to wash out here, sticking it in the dark place could only be the last item on the play list. We had built that log cabin over the winter, but it didn’t have a water supply yet.
I directed Mario to take her pussy and he unceremoniously rammed his already hard cock into her wetness, eliciting a surprised, but welcoming yelp, as he started to pound her in earnest. I ran the tip of my raging hard-on across her lips and she eagerly swallowed my length, sucking on it as if her life depended on it. Upon my nod, Jogi took one of her hands and put it around his cock. Realizing that she was servicing three guys, Lydia gently jerked off Jogi, sucked me off with all the might she could muster, while being fucked hard by Mario. Her one remaining arm was all she had to steady herself, as she was bent over the stack of firewood.
I guessed Jogi didn’t get much nookie in Gelsenkirchen, because he was the first to go, shooting his load into Lydia’s hair. Out of solidarity, Mario went not much later, filling up her pussy to the brim. Being a bit older, I held out a few minutes longer before spray-painting her throat.
Mario and Jogi still had the amazing virility of youth, so I indicated to Mario that he should insert himself into her ass, knowing that Jogi wasn’t fond of that. Before I would ram my club into that orifice, it was not the worst idea to open it up with a slightly more palatable tool. We hadn’t had much butt sex lately, so I gathered, opening her up a little more gently was the way to go.
The word ‘gentle’ did do a lot of heavy lifting there, because Mario just pushed himself past her sphincter with not a care in the world. I was just about to admonish him, but Lydia was loving it, egging him on to go harder. My word, she had really wanted this for some time. Jogi had taken position in front of her, and Lydia was eagerly sucking him off. I, however, was in for an entirely different program. Instead of jacking me off, like she had done with Jogi, Lydia pushed her index finger into my ass and started to massage my prostate, which had me on the edge in a darn hurry. I actually cried out when it felt like I was passing a golf ball through my dick and shot a massive load into her hair and the side of her face. Mario and Jogi followed not too long after.
That Lydia was way beyond caring became obvious when I pushed myself into her tight ass. Not only did she take me without much fuss, she also started to suck off Mario, and he had just pulled out of her rear-end. He wasn’t dirty or anything - Lydia had cleaned herself up beforehand - but that didn’t change the fact, his dick had been in her ass. She didn’t care.
My pelvis crashing into her ass made rather indecent noises while Lydia sucked off Mario with gusto. She was away with the fairies. Jogi was partly to blame for that too, because instead of having her jack him off with her hand, he had slid underneath her and sucked her breasts as if he was a staved infant, which made her mewl in ecstasy. We were all in a real rhythm and fucked the everloving bejeezus out of Lydia, who - completely detached from the reality - mewled her approval as we used her as we pleased.
“Come on boys, you have one more,” she demanded. “Give me a facial, mess me up!”
All of us had nutted twice, but we were confident there was one more load in us. Lydia sat back, took the dicks of Mario and Jogi, jacking them off with her hands, while sucking me off, again not caring that I had been in her ass. It didn’t take her long to bring Mario and Jogi to boiling point and they nutted all over her face, their jizz landing straight in her phizog and her hair. It took a bit longer for me, but when she had finally brought me to the edge, I released a load that was rather big, considering it was the third one within the hour, messing up her face some more.
Doreen
Femke toppled over, laughing hysterically. Granted, Matt and Regina were treating us to a cover version of Simon & Garfunkle’s “Boxer”, with alternate German lyrics about a guy suffering explosive diarrhea on a date, and it was hilarious enough, but the picture we were presented was just ridiculous.
Mark and Mario came out of the woods, both holding a blindfolded Lydia by the hands, and boy did she look messed up. Her whole face and the hair were full of spunk. The stuff dripped off her chin. She looked like a modern art master piece. Reaching the pool, they unceremoniously chucked her in to clean herself up. Those filter pumps would earn their electricity today.
Regina
The music teacher in me was mightily pleased. My god, the kids could sing! That Jenny had quite the voice was not news to me, but Matt blew us away. Voice breaking was the bane of every young man in the throes of puberty, but at fourteen he had already gone through it relatively early, and he sported a voice so deep, it belied his slight build. Proper American and all, he had a seemingly inexhaustible knowledge of country songs, mainly really cheeky covers of well-known hits. Fortunate son, the Auctioneer, the Gambler were just a few of his pieces de resistance. But more amazingly, he had also quite a few German lyrics at hand. His German was excellent, albeit still a bit accented, but that boy would definitely not suffer any problems adjusting to life in Germany.
I wasn’t the only one amazed with his talents. In fact I had to give Jenny a rather stern look after I realized that she had touched herself indecently behind her drum kit. Considering that we were all naked, I wasn’t exactly of the prude disposition, but diddling herself was pushing it, so Jenny had reluctantly seized to do so and concentrated on playing her drums instead.
My maternal authority was of course undermined when Lydia had come back from the woods looking like the bullseye of the World Bukkake Championship. Matt had the decency to look somewhat abashed, but Jenny had just laughed hysterically. Thankfully Mark and Mario had chucked Lydia into the pool, so she could make herself somewhat presentable again.
Meri
The kids had retreated to their luxurious bunker and Mark had disappeared into his office. The rest of us were sitting around the pool, naked and relaxed.
“What the heck, Lydia,” I inquired. “By the look of it, Mark and Mario fucked three shades of blue out of you. What was that all about?”
“Actually, I think Jogi was in the mix too. I definitely sucked three dicks,” she replied. Femke ejected her beer through her nose, laughing and coughing at the same time.
“You think?” I probed further.
“Well, I was blindfolded,” Lydia said. “But I think it was Jogi. Long one, but not too thick, and I know he’s currently in town to visit his folks.”
“Jeez, what got into you?” I asked. “You haven’t gone this wild since ‘92. And we know how that ended.”
Lydia heaved a sigh. “I wanted to be a slut for a day. I’ve spent years ass-whooping my opponents. For once I wanted to be ass-whooped myself. And boy did they fuck the raw crap out of me. Mark riddled me out completely.”
Femke’s mirth was gone and she assumed a rather serious stance. “You have to be careful with that, girl,” she said. “Doing it here is one thing, but there are enough assholes out there who wouldn’t hesitate to abuse that.”
Lydia gave her a sarcastic snort. “Trust me, nobody knows that better than Meri and I. The Barcelona Olympics are nine years in the past, but we still remember the aftermath quite vividly.”
“I’ve heard that remark more than once,” Doreen chipped in. “What exactly happened?”
I gave her the compact version of how Lydia and I were filled up like a Chevy at the gas station back in the day and gave an unplanned show for the camera, which shocked Doreen, especially when she learned that we didn’t just blow Mark’s cover, but that, if it wasn’t for John and Rhonda, he would probably have killed himself by way of alcohol ingestion.
“Wasn’t it still quite some risk?” Doreen asked. “This is your estate and all, but what if someone else had been around in the woods?”
Lydia chuckled. “Doreen, not even a squirrel can make it past that fence undetected. It’s sort of sad that we have to do it, but this estate is safer than Fort Knox. We had our fair share of run-ins with Paparazzi. Mark even ended up in court once because he redecorated someone’s face in the worst way possible.”
It fell to me again to relay the story of how Mark had beaten up a Paparazzo back in Pasadena, shortly after Nadja had become part of our inner circle.
“Jeez, listening to that, I’m not so sure if I really want to become a well-known athlete anymore,” Doreen mused.
“Oh, it comes with obvious perks,” Femke said with a chuckle. “The money is definitely worth it, and as Lydia said, in here we’re quite safe.”
You have to learn to play the media,” Lydia explained. “They know they can always get a quote from me or an interview. In return they leave us alone most of the time. It’s a give and take, really. That we’re on really good terms with the editor of the local paper helps a lot.”
I took over.
“That’s probably the only good thing that came out of Lydia’s and Femke’s brush with food poisoning in January. It was unofficial at first, but now Martin is our official media coordinator. Everything goes through him, so instead of hiding in the bushes somewhere, journalists go straight to Martin and have a much better chance of getting a story.”
“Pretty nifty arrangement,” Doreen said with a grin. “And a win-win too. Who has heard of such unprecedented access for a local paper?”
Doreen
Speaking of win-win. The days had passed quickly and the day had come for my debut in the triathlon. Femke and Lydia would compete too. They had done so a couple of years back at this very race, if I remembered correctly. The event was held in Malchin, a tourist town in the state of Mecklenburg-Western Pommerania. It wasn’t exactly the Iron Man in Hawaii, more like an every man’s race, mostly contested by young first timers and older athletes who let their careers peter out with a few not-so-important competitions.
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