Chapter 3: Welcome Back

-- SATURDAY, JUNE 30, 2007 --

Something tickled my balls, but I didn’t jerk awake. Something else had already woken me a few minutes before: a soft pair of lips. And when those lips had woken me, I had been quite pleased to discover whose lips they were.

It was a rare occurrence for Kim to come to me in the mornings. The obvious reason was BJ. Our son was consistently the first one awake in the entire apartment, and Kim’s first priority was to see to his breakfast and well-being. I frequently spent the night with Adrienne or Sasha in their bedrooms at the other end of the apartment. Even when I did sleep in my own bed, I usually still had a girlfriend (or sister) with me as well. And although I’d invited her more than once to spend the night with me in my bed, remaining close to BJ in his crib overnight was still very important to her. I hoped that perhaps when he was older she might be more willing to come to me and stay.

To be perfectly honest, it was rare for Kim to come to me at all. While the two of us would be forever bonded by our son, our relationship with each other was far more about being parents than about being romantic partners. We were still regularly intimate, and she never refused me when -I- initiated sex, but in plain simple fact there were other horny young women in my life both readily available to service my lustful needs and also more demanding that I service them.

Not that Kim felt neglected. For one thing, I made a conscious effort to make her feel included in my little “harem”, as did everyone else. Though Kim refused the “girlfriend” title and claimed to have no interest in “romance”, she was an important piece of my love life and the others were only too happy to babysit so that Kim and I could get quality alone time. Besides, as she’d told me more than once, she knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it. And I knew that if she ever wanted a little more attention from me, she had her ways of getting me to give it to her.

Usually, that meant dropping hints, some subtle and some less so, to get me to initiate. But on sporadic occasions ... like today... she came to me.

Kim woke me gradually, with featherlight touches. She didn’t kiss me so much as ... nibble ... at the corners of my mouth with just the tips of her lips. The sensations were almost ticklish, enough to warm my skin and get the attention of my nerves without setting them off to the point of alerting my active brain. Her hands slid up and down my chest, arms, and shoulders, bringing alive a few square inches of me at a time.

While her movements might seem spontaneous or random, there was always deliberate intent in Kim’s every move. Each action was taken with forethought and planning. Each touch had been calculated to elicit a specific response. I sometimes joked with the girls that while my body had a simple on/off switch, all of theirs were equipped with dozens of dials, knobs, and keypads that had to be very delicately controlled in order for me to bring about a desired response. Well, Kim worked my body as if -I- were the one with dozens of control knobs, except that she knew exactly how and when she wanted to set each one.

Nobody is perfect, not even Kim, and yet I came awake at almost the precise moment she wanted, in almost the precise way she wanted. We were mid-kiss, not lip-nibbles but open-mouthed and full of passion, and as I sharply inhaled her sweet scent and opened my eyes to confirm my lover’s identity, I found myself already rock hard in her hands, both ready and willing to take our lovemaking to the next level.

But before I could roll her over and thrust away, Kim broke the kiss, raised her head, and gave me a teasing grin. She was obviously quite pleased with herself, smirking down at me in satisfaction that the end result of her calculated moves indeed matched up with her original intent.

And I wanted to fuck that smug look right off of her face.

Of course, that was exactly what Kim was expecting, too. Her eyes danced as she watched mine sharpen. She stopped stroking my shaft in her right hand, instead extending her fingers to scratch and tickle my balls as her smirk broadened. And she squealed in delight as I then rolled her over onto her back, yanked the strap of her panties aside, centered my cockhead at the entrance to her pussy, and thrust.

Entry was still difficult. Somehow, someway, Kim’s vagina had stretched wide enough to pass an 8-pound baby with a 13-inch circumference head. It had hurt like hell, and I still had little discolored scars on the back of my hand from when Kim’s fingernails had dug into it during delivery. Neither of us had expected her pussy to ever be the same.

But that had been almost nine months ago, and Kim was still a 23-year-old woman with a 22-inch waist. She was just built narrow, and even post-baby her pussy was a snug fit for Big Ben. Thankfully, she was no longer skin-peelingly tight, but complete entry in a single thrust would always be difficult.

“Ungh,” Kim grunted as if the wind had gotten knocked out of her. She arched her back, thrust her chin to the ceiling, and gripped my shoulders as I grabbed onto her hips and pulled. She panted with shallow breaths, absorbing the feelings of every bump and ridge of my thick cock burrowing deeper and deeper into her body. And only when our pelvic bones finally pressed up against each other, our loins fully enjoined, did she exhale a sigh of relief and relax beneath me.

My mouth covered hers for a new kiss. Her hands slithered up into my hair before getting a firm grip on my scalp. And she moaned as I slowly retracted my hips, drawing myself almost all the way out, so that we could both feel the exquisite sensations of her pussy’s penetration once again as if it were the first time.

We started slow. There were times when my self-declared “submissive” wanted me to bend her over, ram it in, and use her body as my masturbatory tool. She got off on the idea of being seized and inseminated even more than the Tri-Delts had, reveling not only in the spontaneity of the act but also in the concept of servicing my sexual needs. Knowing how much she enjoyed those occasions, I did my best to focus on my own physical pleasure, more than I would do with one of my girlfriends, as a way of honoring what she truly desired.

But then there were times when I wanted to really feel Kim beneath me, to hear her voice moan in hushed whispers of ecstasy as I made love to her, instead of squeal as I pounded the shit out of her. I wanted to give to her, pleasure her, and unite our bodies as one with every bit of the same passionate romance I would share with Adrienne or Sasha.

Ironically, concentrating on Kim’s orgasmic feeling was selfish of me, whereas sticking her in some random position and then sticking it to her over and again was doing it for her.

Today I was being selfish. Of course, being selfish meant that I wanted to focus on making love to Kim at the expense of my personal pleasure for ME, which meant that I was making myself happy, and doing so would make Kim happiest, so actually I was focusing on Kim for myself for Kim.

Right?

Whatever. You both end up happy. Shut up and focus on what you’re doing.

Right, right.

I shut up. I focused on what I was doing. And I worked Kim’s “dials” and “knobs” until she stiffened up and squeaked in orgasm while pressing my tongue into her mouth.

Feeling the results of my “selfish” actions as her pussy quaked and clenched around my cock, I started chuckling to myself mid-kiss, and Kim pulled her head back to look up at me with bright eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” I replied and kissed her again. Meantime, I slid my hands down her sides before bunching up my fingers in the hem of her nightgown. Leaning in with my hips, I pressed my cock to full depth and arched my body away from hers to create space while tugging the material up her body. Then, I raised the light cotton up to her neck and let go, planting my hands onto the mattress to either side of her while I stared down at Kim’s milk-filled breasts. “Got anything left for me?”

Kim gave me that Mona Lisa smile, her eyes half-lidded. “One way to find out.”

With a grin, I bent down and captured a swollen nipple in my mouth. Having attended half a dozen parenting classes with Kim, I knew the proper mouth positions for a proper latch. Sure, my mouth wasn’t exactly the same size or shape as BJ’s, but practice makes perfect, and I knew exactly how to draw out the sweet-tasting breastmilk. The melon-flavored honey dribbled onto my tongue, and I hummed while suckling happily.

Kim cradled my head to her bosom, smiling as I fed. I switched breasts, sucked out another ounce, and raised my head to kiss her again. And then we moved.

In and out, I stroked slowly while savoring every last inch of her exquisite pussy. Sliding my hands up her sides, I took hold of my lover’s nightgown and pulled it over her head. She raised her arms to let me remove it completely, and I paused from thrusting to interlace my fingers with hers. She smiled up at me as I pushed her hands above her head, although she couldn’t fully extend her arms without bumping into Adrienne’s headboard.

We were in the master bedroom, as I’d spent the night here after making sure things were good with June and then fulfilling my promise of not letting my girlfriend fall asleep without getting eight inches of Big Ben stuffed up her twat (and then some). Now that I thought about it, I was surprised that Adrienne wasn’t still in bed with us. Like I said before: Adrienne usually got up after noon, especially on a weekend. And on the days she did wake up early, it was usually so she could be my morning blowjob alarm clock.

But wondering about Adrienne’s whereabouts could wait; I had more important matters to attend to. After directing Kim’s hands until she grabbed onto some of the short, vertical bars that ran across the top of Adrienne’s headboard, and I gripped her wrists for a moment to tell her to keep her hands there. Her eyes sparkled up at me, and I swear she practically had an orgasm just from the non-verbal command.

Then, I fully withdrew from her pussy, the mushroom ridges momentarily trapping me at her entrance before I pulled free. I drew her panties down so that we’d both be completely naked. Finally, I raised both of her legs up over my shoulders while centering my cockhead at the entrance to her pussy, and I thrust again.

“Uuuhhhnnngggghhh!” Kim grunted, far louder and longer than before as my cock drove deep inside her body. Entry was still difficult ... but it was a little less difficult. She was still tight, but she was a lot better lubricated. And all in all, despite being a mom who’d given birth less than a year ago, Kim had a pussy that felt like the snuggest, wettest, most heavenly teenage snatch.

And I got to fuck it.

Fuck, yeah. Mental five! [slap]

No more “selfish”. The next part was for her. Kim enjoyed it the most when -I- enjoyed it, and now fully awoken I was locked and loaded.

“Ungh ... ungh ... ungh...” she moaned as I drove in and out of her willing body, each stroke long and hard and forceful. Her arms were tense, muscles flexing, as she held onto the headboard. Her legs were limp, yielding, offering little resistance against my chest as I folded her in half and powered my way through her constricting tightness.

“So good...” I groaned. “So tight...”

“Fuck me...” Kim whimpered, her expression pleading for more. “Fuck meeee...”

I grinned and put more energy into my hips. My pleasure was her pleasure, but Kim had figured out that audibly expressing her wants relieved me of any lingering guilt over our supposed Master/sub relationship. She still declared herself a submissive, but one look at our daily lives would leave an outside observer hard-pressed to believe it. “Meek” was a term I’d never use to describe her. And “Kim’s orders” was a phrase often heard and always heeded by everyone in this household.

“Oh, gawd ... oh, gawd...” Kim crooned, her head lolling to the side as she shut her eyes and concentrated on the sensations of my thick dick stretching her cunt and filling her up over and again. Her hips rolled and her ab muscles clenched in a hundred crunches to buck up and meet my thrusts, and she crossed her feet behind my neck to start using her leg muscles as well.

“Fuck yeah...” I grunted, scooping my hands behind her shoulders and yanking her lithe body against mine. Still, she held onto the headboard rails to keep from sliding down the bed. Then, once the force of our fucking motions started to move her toward the headboard, she had to stiffen her arms to keep from moving up.

“Fuck me, Ben ... Fuck me...” she whimpered, forehead crinkled and mouth twisted into a grimace as her pleasure mounted. I wasn’t twisting any knobs or dials on her control panel, just blindly fucking to get as much heavenly friction around my cock as I could. But the harder I fucked her, the more Kim believed I was happy. The more she believed I was happy, the more she cried out in ecstasy. And the more she cried out in ecstasy, the harder I fucked her.

Everybody wins.

“Gonna cum,” I grunted, feeling my balls beginning to tighten. I wasn’t holding back, hadn’t paced myself trying to prolong this experience. I didn’t resist the ejaculatory urge, instead speeding up my thrusts to get to that happy explosion. And as I built up to ramming speed I groaned, “Gonna cum deep inside you!”

“Flood me!” Kim whimpered. “Flood me and fill me!”

No more pills. Kim wasn’t on any kind of birth control, and there was nothing to stop millions of wriggling sperm from shooting straight into the back of her womb. But her womb was as far as my sperm would ever go, and there was zero chance of them ever finding an egg.

If she’d had her way, we’d be giving BJ a younger sibling. Well, maybe not RIGHT away – both of us were still very young and handling one infant was challenge enough. But Kim had always wanted more than one child, and during her pregnancy we’d discussed the possibility of giving BJ siblings to grow up with, even if she and I never married.

Unfortunately, it was during her third trimester that Kim got really, really sick. Her symptoms were much the same as Kim’s mother’s, just before her mother had died, and quite understandably her father had freaked the fuck out. But thankfully, modern medicine had progressed in the past twenty or so years. Instead of placing blame on an errant soccer ball, doctors were able to not only detect the same genetic disorder that had ultimately killed Kim’s mom, but also treat it.

Long story short: Kim was put on bed rest at home with a daily regimen of drugs. She safely delivered little Benjamin Junsaku Fukuzaki, moved into the apartment with me, and would go on to live a full and healthy life. But it was the pregnancy itself that could have killed her, and having gone through one already made any future pregnancies significantly more life-threatening, drugs or no drugs. So she’d gotten her tubes tied. No more eggs would be coming down her fallopian tubes ever again.

Kim knew she could never again get pregnant, but she still loved the sensation of my sperm filling her womb, perhaps even more so because of that knowledge. Caught up in orgasmic bliss while feeling hot jets of hot spunk splashing against her insides, perhaps she could imagine for just a few seconds that I was giving her another baby. Perhaps she hoped beyond all hope that just one wriggling tadpole would find a way to breach the dam and impregnate her anyway.

Whatever the reason, Kim never glowed more than the moment she felt my cum spurting inside her. And so with one final lunge, I grunted and bellowed, “Cummmmmiiiiinnnnngggg!!!“

Kim’s jaw dropped and her head tilted back as she gasped in delirious ecstasy. Her legs quaked and her cunt clenched, milking me for my sperm as I fired waved after wave of liquid love into her body. Her face glowed, just like I knew it would, and I started chuckling in satisfaction even as my cock continued to shoot out little cum bullets. And then all my energy left me as I collapsed face-down onto the pillow, knocking her hands free from the headboard before she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight.

What felt like an hour later, consciousness returned to me as I found my head cradled into the crook of Kim’s neck while she hummed in contentment. “Mmmm...”

Still panting from my exertion, I lay there like so much dead weight crushing her body while she wrapped all four limbs around me. Her legs had slipped off my shoulders and were now crossed behind my butt, keeping my deflating dick inside her to plug up the jizz and keep it trapped within. But eventually my breathing calmed, my limbs found energy, and I slid myself down her body until I could get her perky, milk-filled breasts back in my face. And I suckled out what little juice she had left.

I wasn’t worried about stealing my son’s breakfast. Kim nursed him the moment he woke up, and surely he would already be up and about at this late hour. Obviously, he wasn’t here with us, which mean that... “BJ with Sasha?” I asked, smacking my lips and smiling down at my adored baby mama.

“Of course,” Kim replied.

Sasha by far had been BJ’s most willing and ready babysitter amongst the girls. Adrienne thought he was adorable, but she was quite happy to hand him off to anyone else the instant “adorable” turned into needy, hungry, upset, or soiled. Dayna was probably the most maternal, but she wasn’t around nearly as often. And Brandi was perfectly willing to help out if the need arose, but she wouldn’t be the first to volunteer, either.

Sasha, on the other hand, couldn’t have loved BJ more if he’d been her own. While she obviously deferred to Kim in all things related to the little boy, she volunteered for baby duty as often as possible, bottle-fed the little tyke even before -I- did, and apparently had no aversion whatsoever to changing even the filthiest of filthy diapers.

So of course I started teasing her about giving her a baby of her own. And Sasha promptly waggled a finger in my face, warning, “Don’t you even think about it, buster.”

Still, Sasha adored BJ, and her whole attitude toward him was in STARK contrast to my first memories of her talking about raising a baby. Back in college, when Paige had first needed a babysitter, Sasha’s opinion was: ‘I get the cute factor, but one moment of bliss after hours of hair-pulling? No thanks.’ She understood that having kids meant putting someone else’s needs first, before her own, and she wasn’t ready to do that.

But despite the apparent paradoxical opinions, Sasha had an explanation: Obviously, BJ wasn’t hers, and that made all the difference in the world. She loved playing with him. She loved taking care of him. But at the end of the day, BJ wasn’t her responsibility. She didn’t have to feed, clothe, or care for him. She got all of the good, and was willing to put up with some of the work, but if it ever came down to deciding between herself and BJ, she had the option of choosing herself.

Sasha always had her priorities: Career first. Romance second. Family? Eventually ... maybe ... someday ... In the meantime, she’d get her baby playtime fix with BJ.

Safe in the knowledge that my boy was in good hands, I smiled and returned my attention to Kim. Having suckled her boobies dry, I moved back up to cuddle and kiss the mother of my only child. She hummed happily, kissed me back, and generally appeared content to never, ever let me go.

But eventually I started thinking it was time to get out of bed. It was the start of our vacation, and I had a long trip ahead of me. Plus, I was still curious about where my bed partner had gone off to. Glancing around, I asked, “Adrienne?”

Removing her legs from around my back, Kim tucked her elbows beneath herself and sat up a bit. “She woke up early. All on her own.”

“Really?” I smirked. “Two days in a row? Must be some kind of record.”

Kim shrugged. “Said she had a lot of stuff to pack.”

“We’re leaving in a couple of hours. Shouldn’t she have gotten all her packing done BEFORE the absolute last minute?”

“I’ve got stuff,” Adrienne complained as she poked her head out from the archway to the adjoining bathroom. “Stuff that can’t be packed the night before.” Clad in one of my button-down dress shirts, and apparently nothing else, she held a small bag of foam wedges in one hand and a squat bottle of foundation in the other.

“You been there the whole time?” I asked with a smile.

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug. “Well, I did come sit in the armchair to masturbate and watch you guys for a bit, but you were kinda too focused on Kim to notice me.”

I chuckled at that.

Setting both makeup articles down on the counter out of view, the gorgeous blonde bombshell sashayed into the bedroom with an impish smile on her face, her bare legs beneath my dress shirt drawing my attention. “You should go get something to eat, Tiger. Long trip ahead of us.”

Sighing, I nodded my agreement, kissed Kim, and finally rolled off her. But when I sat up on the edge of the mattress, I found that not only had Kim remained exactly where she was instead of following me, but Adrienne had crawled onto the foot of the bed. “You two aren’t coming to breakfast?” I queried in puzzlement.

“Not yet.” Adrienne glanced at Kim’s sperm-saturated pussy and grinned at me. “I’ve got something to eat, too.”

After several hours of driving, I found myself yawning as I merged into the right lane and approached my exit, just off memory of certain landmarks. No GPS necessary, no Thomas Guide maps. Even though I hadn’t been this way in a couple of years, I still knew the roads like the back of my hand. A few minutes later, I left I-5 and headed west from Yreka, cruising along at a comfortable pace. I wasn’t in any hurry. All of my passengers were asleep, and to be perfectly honest, I could use a little extra time to put my mind in order.

Almost lazily, I guided my super-macho, super-cool navy blue with beige interior Toyota Sienna XLE minivan (with Sport rims!) around the winding mountain roads. I let my gaze drift out to the rows upon rows of verdant redwoods that lined my path. Above them to both sides rose the imposing Marble Mountains, any surfaces not covered with trees instead exposing rocky brown-gray faces. Below ran the ever-changing, ever-moving blue and white surface of the river. I navigated the twists and turns of the serpentine mountain road as it clung to the cliffs over the winding water, practically recalling each individual turn by heart. In a way, it felt like absolutely nothing about this route had changed in the twenty-odd years I’d been making this trip, and I sighed in melancholic nostalgia at all the familiar sights. At last, about forty-five minutes after leaving the highway, I made the final turn onto the main driveway and passed beneath the archway sign that read “Morris Camp”.

I followed the driveway, with the creek on my left and an open field on my right, bordered by a horse fence. About a hundred yards from the road, the Main Lodge appeared amongst a stand of conifers. Out of habit from years of coming up here, I thought about pulling into the parking lot and heading inside to register and pick up our cabin keys. But my collective family had taken two cars on this trip, and Brandi should have already arrived by now to get the keys. So I drove straight on, leaving the paved asphalt and moving onto dirt roads that got narrower and narrower as I continued. Not that I was worried or anything. I’d driven these same roads in my parents’ big conversion van before, my destination wasn’t very far, and like I said, for two decades nothing had really changed.

The paired cabins quickly came into view. They looked just the same as they had two years ago, and I briefly chuckled at the memories of that last trip, when we’d walked in to find my parents and the Evanses fucking each other’s brains out. That trip felt like ages ago, and although very little about these surroundings had changed over the years, so very MUCH had changed in my life.

Two years ago, I’d brought my new girlfriend Amber to camp with me. Now, she was back home and married to her true soulmate.

Two years ago, Kim was living at home after I’d coldly dumped her in grief. Now she sat just behind me, in the middle row of a minivan alongside the car seat that held our son.

Two years ago, Sasha was little more than a classmate and casual friend. Now she slept in the third row, my steady girlfriend accompanying me on her very first trip to Morris Camp.

Two years ago, Adrienne was a jet-setting supermodel who almost never came home. Now, my once-again girlfriend slumbered with her feet up on the dashboard in the passenger seat beside me, and although she still traveled to modeling gigs near and far, she was home far more often than not.

And two years ago, in the aftermath of our big breakup, Dawn had gone off on her cross-country road trip instead of coming back to this special place that had meant so much not only to the two of us, but to both of our families. Now, as I stared at Brandi’s Camry already parked in front of the old Evans house, I knew that She would be waiting inside.

Our first time back at Morris Camp... together ... in a long, long time.

Our first time living in these cabins ... together ... in a long, long time.

And perhaps our first return visit ... together ... to the isolated, special clearing that had meant so much to both of us.

This had always been a magical place for her and me, an especially magical place for the “us” we used to be. I couldn’t look at the side-by-side cabins without being overwhelmed with memories. I couldn’t help but see in my mind’s eye her old bunk in the cabin on the right, which would still have both our initials carved into the wood from when we were eight, the very place where she’d given me her virginity on her sixteenth birthday.

I turned the engine off and lay my forearms on the steering wheel. I set my chin down on top of them, letting my mind fill up with old memories of who I was – who WE used to be. But I didn’t have very long to reminisce. After my snail’s pace in getting here, the others would have had plenty of time to unpack and get settled in before our arrival.

So about ten seconds after I turned off the engine, the front door to the old Evans cabin swung open, She stepped out, and suddenly I was sixteen again.

All the angst and anguish of the past seven years evaporated from my mind. All the pain and heartache were momentarily forgotten. And the emotional scars she’d left on me disappeared.

It was just Her ... and me. I stared out the front windshield and took her in. She wore a white and pastel blue summer dress that hugged her svelte body, pinching in at her waist to show off both her slenderness and her curves. The hem was quite short to emphasize her long legs and the top shaped to enhance her large breasts. Sunny blonde hair hung loose and flowed perfectly across her shoulders. Sparkling blue eyes pierced through the distance and the front windshield to go straight to the back of my soul. And she had the most gorgeous face I’d ever seen, period.

She was beautiful. She was my Dawn. Just like always. Our eyes met and the euphoric sensation people call “love at first sight” bloomed in my heart as we both smiled at each other. Only this obviously wasn’t “first sight”. I wasn’t even 10,000th sight. Dawn and I were well past that, and yet I couldn’t describe the way I felt any differently.

They say you know Love when you know it, and I KNEW it.

I loved Dawn. I would always love Dawn. Even if I sometimes hated Dawn.

It was just the way it was.

Brandi and Dayna came out the front door, and Dawn turned back to glance at them as they did. Our eye contact broken, the memories of the past seven years flooded back to me, bringing along all the angst, anguish, pain, heartache, and emotional scars with them. The euphoric “love at first sight” sensation faded, and I remembered that we weren’t sixteen anymore. Dawn had a boyfriend, and I had three girlfriends, in addition to a “Kim” and a young baby boy. The roads may not have changed much, but the “She and I” that we used to be certainly had.

Adrienne yawned loudly and stretched her legs long enough for a foot to bang into the windshield, drawing my attention to her. Groggily, she smacked her lips, turned to me, and asked, “Are we there?”