The Compound
Copyright© 2025 by Pete Fox
Chapter 11 Part III
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11 Part III - Hedonistic prepper nudists, Shoshone trial marriage customs, a group of like-minded families prepare a bug out community in Wisconsin. Government bureaucrats, doctors, former military, farmers, and actors. In the background gain-of-function research, H5N1 influenza, spy games, sex, story progresses to 2020 pandemic over several instalments. Pete, a State Dept employee prepares his cabin and family for what he does not know. Much sex, drama, family fun, 1st POV, NSFW. 3 Parts.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft Mult Teenagers Fiction Historical Sharing Wife Watching Incest Group Sex Exhibitionism Lactation Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Voyeurism Big Breasts Nudism Politics
Tuesday - Her bed
Heidi Time
We used Maria’s bed. I rested my hands on her wide, naturally tan ass, my cock buried in her wet, post-pregnancy pussy. The twenty-year-old former swimsuit model’s new mother body felt amazing. Devorah smiled as she lay in front of me, Maria’s head between her thick teenage thighs. Both our smiling faces were sticky with breastmilk.
Maria’s husband, Carlos, was out and about in his camouflaged 4×4 Chevy, his recently arrived fifteen-year-old daughter, Isabella, along for the ride. His absence permission. Their son was cared for by her mom out front, resting on a blanket covered in toys spread on the grass. A pop-up canopy provided shade in the hot afternoon sun, as a heat wave washed over Wisconsin this week—pushing temperatures into the mid-90s°F, with some days forecast to break 100°F, according to the Wisconsin State Journal.
I moved my cock, resetting, enjoying the feeling of being inside Maria as she twerked her butt. Devorah bit her bottom lip, sexy, sweat beading on her brow and chest, while Maria fingered and licked, orgasms rocking her body. I was in no hurry, letting the fourteen-year-old enjoy the moment. Through the big plate-glass window, I watched the driveway, my Gator parked off to the side, Maria’s mom and son on the grass under the pop-up canopy. I thought of Sydney and my wife Heidi.
The cabin on Sunday evening had been a madhouse with people. A trial-marriage deal had been struck with the Johnsons—Beverly and Stanton—for the remainder of our stay at Twin Peaks. Though I wasn’t interested in swapping officially, Heidi had agreed to be part of the deal. I felt a tinge of jealousy; Stanton did have a big tool and muscles. Tommy would spend three nights a week at their house with Gwen and Bethany, the rest at ours with his sister-wives. Heidi would spend two nights a week, and I would get Juliet the same, forking over 200 rounds of 5.56. Whatever. I went with it. As “father-in-law,” I would have rights.
Settling into our bed Sunday night, Heidi and Grace were visibly jet-lagged. Sydney stood at the doorway. She’d been my “wife” the past week. I could see the impatience now in my oldest daughter’s face. The afternoon had turned into a fuck-fest once my parents delivered Heidi and Grace. Sydney, guarding her virginity, was active but held back.
Heidi yawned. “You two didn’t do it, did you?” she said, her naked body resting next to mine under the cotton sheet. It was warm out, my skin felt damp even at 9 o’clock at night, the fan blades turned slowly overhead, and the windows open for the cross breeze.
My wife direct in her questioning; sleep important to her. Heidi lifted the sheet and motioned to Sydney. “Come on,” she said, then to dark-haired Grace standing behind her sister. “You too, Grace.”
No noise in the loft, Tommy at the Johnsons tonight. Tanya had passed out on the lower bunk bed in the living room, not much sleep in the last 24 hours, she’d said, pulling a blanket over her head. She liked it here better than the small guest trailer she was staying in. I explained to Heidi that Tanya was a new friend passing through, and we’d extended guest rights to her. Heidi welcomed the young woman with a hug, then headed for the shower.
She’d been impressed with how down-to-earth Jo-Scarlett, our actress friend and nurse Julie’s temporary roommate, had been. As I introduced Heidi to Jo and Julie, I felt my wife’s eyes on me the entire time, weighing, judging. She knew me and had left me alone here for a week without her.
On Sunday afternoon, I sat quietly between Devorah’s legs, spent, as Heidi sucked our son Tommy’s cock, and Sydney did the same with my dad. I could not say this was normal Sunday behavior for us, but it happened from time to time when you gathered the right people together. Dad emptied his nuts on Sydney’s pretty chest, and Beverly handed him a plate of cold fried chicken along with a beer.
I went for seconds myself, having worked up an appetite. People who wanted to have sex had sex openly. Many of the men gathered around my dad and me to talk about sports, guns & girls, and the latest political news; no one was happy with the current administration in Washington. My mom gathered some of the women around her, both natural leaders in our community. I was curious to hear what my dad, a retired US ambassador, learned during their trip to Panama for the cryptocurrency seminar that he was paid to speak at.
Grace crawled across the bed, my youngest, just barely, her and Sydney’s birthdays making them even for a few weeks every July. Slender, small-breasted with a head of dark curly hair and an impish smile, she could be very dramatic when she felt she wasn’t being heard.
I waited as Grace cuddled next to me. I put an arm around her. “No, we didn’t,” I said as I glanced at Sydney, the one bedside lamp next to her, lit the bedroom.
“Mom, I told Dad I was ready, we could have sex, and we sort of decided to wait for you,” she said, head resting on her mom’s shoulder.
A warm hand encircled my cock. Mostly true. I felt better waiting for Heidi, and I had my hands full with other women. I still saw sex with my daughter as a moral black hole pulling me in; my resistance at this point futile.
“Is that true?” Heidi said her blue eyes were sleepy but alive.
“Yes.” The hand, I think it was Grace’s, based on size, moving up and down.
Smiling, Heidi kissed my cheek. “That’s sweet. We’ll fix that soon. Sydney?” my wife said.
“Yes, Mom, okay.” My gorgeous fourteen-year-old said smoothly, turning off the light.
“Mommy’s horny,” Heidi said, a leg sliding over mine. The sheet pushed down. In the ambient light, Grace’s hand on my stiff cock. “Grace, kiss your daddy,” Heidi said as she knelt over my thighs. Sydney lying on her side watching. She was a vision, my wife’s C-cups firm even after three kids, five years my junior, but way older than me in so many ways.
Still eyeing Heidi, Grace’s head covered mine, a quick kiss on the lips, daddy-daughter, like we’d done for years, affectionately. Then the tip of her tongue. Oh wow, my cock twitched.
Grace’s lips brushed mine, familiar, the way they had for years at bedtime, at airports, a reward for a good job done. A quick press, daddy-daughter, soft and safe. Tonight, the tip of her tongue, small and curious, traced the seam of my mouth, new.
I tasted cherry lip balm and the faint taste of the small amount of red wine we’d allowed her. Her breath hitched, warm against my cheek. The room narrowed to that single point of contact, her mouth, tentative, testing.
Grace paused, a heartbeat, maybe two, then parted her lips just enough for her tongue to slip inside mine. Slow. Not a demand, an invitation. I let her lead. The kiss deepened, her tongue sliding along mine, slick and shy, learning the shape of me. A low sound escaped her throat, almost a whimper, vibrating through my chest.
Her small hand tightened on my cock, fingers sticky now, matching the rhythm of her tongue, slow, deliberate strokes, adult. My hips lifted involuntarily, chasing the pressure. Heidi’s weight pinned my thighs, but it was Grace who held me suspended, her mouth growing needy, teeth grazing my lower lip, a soft nip that sent a jolt straight to my spine.
She pulled back an inch, just enough for cool air between us, then dove in again, deeper, her tongue curling, exploring. My hand found the back of her neck, thumb brushing the fine, damp hairs at her nape. She shivered. The kiss turned messy, open-mouthed, breath mingling, the faint taste of cherry replaced by the salt of her skin.
When she finally broke away, her forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. The room smelled of sex and summer night. Her whisper was barely audible: “Like that, Daddy?”
“Yes, very much, just like that,” I said, her mouth so close.
My hand drifted down slowly, deliberately, the way you’d test water before diving in. Heidi’s weight still anchored my thighs; Sydney’s silhouette was a dark curve at the edge of the bed, breath held. The fan kept its lazy rhythm, pushing warm air across bare skin.
Grace’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow beats. I cupped her left breast first, palm barely grazing the swell, feeling the heat radiating off her. Small, barely a handful, the nipple already peaked, tight as a bead. I circled it with my thumb, once, twice, feather light. She exhaled through her nose, a soft, shaky sound.
I pressed firmer, the soft give of her flesh under my fingers, skin silk-smooth, sun-warmed. A faint sheen of sweat made her slick; my thumb slid over the nipple, and she jerked, hips twitching against my leg. I traced the underside, the gentle slope where breast met rib, then rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger, gentle pinch, release, pinch. Her back arched, offering more.
Heidi’s hand settled on my wrist, not stopping, just resting there, feeling the motion. Sydney leaned closer; I caught the glint of her eyes in the moonlight, wide, unblinking.
I shifted to the other breast, same slow ritual, palm, thumb, pinch. Grace’s breath hitched again, louder this time. I leaned in, mouth replacing fingers, tongue flicking once, twice, then closing over the nipple, warm and wet. She tasted faintly of salt and coconut oil sunscreen from earlier. I sucked gently, teeth grazing, and her hand flew to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, holding me there.
A low moan escaped her, muffled against my shoulder. Heidi’s grip on my wrist tightened, just enough pressure to remind me she was watching every second. Sydney’s breathing had gone shallow, almost inaudible.
I pulled back, lips brushing the wet nipple one last time, then let my hand slide down the center of her chest, slowly mapping the dip between her breasts, the flutter of her heartbeat beneath. Grace’s lips parted, waiting.
Grace’s body answered before her voice did.
The slow circle of my thumb over her nipple drew a sharp inhale, ribs flaring under my palm. Her skin flushed from collarbone to the tops of her small breasts, a warm rose that bloomed under the moonlight. A tremor ran through her, fine as a plucked string, and her thighs pressed together, knees brushing my hip.
When I pinched, light, then firmer, her back arched in a single fluid arc. A soft, broken sound escaped her throat, half gasp, half whimper, muffled against my shoulder. Her fingers dug into the sheet, knuckles white, then released, then dug again. Each time I rolled the tight bud between my fingers, her hips rocked forward, seeking friction that wasn’t there.
My mouth closing over her nipple tore a loud moan from Grace, raw, surprised. Her hand flew to the back of my head, nails scraping my scalp, holding me in place. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, hot against my ear. I felt her pulse hammering under my tongue, frantic as a trapped bird.
She shivered, full body, when I grazed with teeth. Her legs parted just enough for her knee to slide over my thigh, the slick heat between her legs brushing my skin, unmistakable. Another whimper, higher this time, edged with need.
When I finally pulled away, she chased my mouth an inch, lips parted, eyes still shut. A thin sheen of sweat had broken across her slender chest; the air smelled of her, cherry lip balm, and the sharper note of arousal. Her hand, the one that had been stroking me, had gone slack, forgotten, curled against my side.
She swallowed hard, throat working. “Daddy...” The word cracked in the middle, equal parts plea and wonder.
Grace’s mouth was still on mine, soft and urgent, her tongue sliding in slow, curious circles when the first wet heat closed over my cock. Sydney. No hesitation, no teasing. She took me deep in one smooth glide, lips sealed tight, throat relaxing around the head, practiced. The sudden contrast of Grace’s shy, cherry-sweet kiss above, Sydney’s warm, hungry mouth below snapped every nerve alight.
Heidi’s breath caught still above me, not jealousy but the raw, open arousal I knew so well. Her hand slid from my wrist to Grace’s back, fingers spread wide, urging her daughter closer. “That’s it, honey,” she whispered, voice thick, “let Daddy taste you.” Her other hand found my balls, cupping, rolling gently, syncing with Sydney’s rhythm.
Grace whimpered into my mouth as I kneaded her small breast, thumb flicking the nipple in time with Sydney’s slow, deliberate pulls. Each time Sydney’s tongue swirled under the crown, Grace’s hips jerked, grinding air. I could feel the slick heat of her pressed against my thigh, smearing wetness. Heidi’s nails grazed my sac, then Grace’s tight ass, then back again, like she couldn’t decide whose pleasure to stoke.
Sydney hummed, low, the vibration shooting straight up my spine. She pulled off just long enough to murmur, “You like, Daddy?” before sinking down again, cheeks hollow, taking me to the root. Yes, I liked. Grace broke our kiss with a gasp, forehead against mine, panting. I chased her lips, caught them, swallowed her next moan as Sydney’s mouth worked faster, wet sounds filling the dark.
Heidi leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “Look at our girls,” she breathed. Her hand left my balls to slide between Grace’s thighs from behind, two fingers gliding through slick teen folds, framed by new dark pubes. Grace cried out into my mouth, body jerking, and Sydney answered with a deeper pull, throat fluttering around me.
The room narrowed to heat and breath and slick, overlapping rhythms of Grace’s tongue in my mouth, Sydney’s lips around my cock, Heidi’s fingers fucking our youngest daughter while her thumb circled my base. Grace’s small hand in my hair; Sydney’s nails dug into my thigh. I was drowning in my girls, every sense overloaded in the incestuous moment.
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