Chapter 10: Georgia Stays a Little Longer

I got the first email from Lauren late the next afternoon. Because of the time difference, it was evening there, and she had probably written it shortly after she had returned to her hotel room. Crazy as it sounds, my heart actually started beating faster as soon as I saw her email address in my Inbox. My fingers fumbled as I finally managed to click on the message icon.

The email started out this way:

Dear Everyone,

As soon as I was on the plane and in my seat, I dove into my bag and got out the little package you gave me at the airport. I don’t know why, but my fingers were trembling so badly, and I was so frustrated I was almost at the point of asking the little girl in the next seat to open it for me. But I finally got control over my fingers. I was so excited, and when I opened it, I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe you’d ever find a chain and charm with five interlocked hearts. I put it on immediately and got this incredible sense of calm and well-being, knowing that wherever I might be, the five of us were together. I love you all so much.

It continued much the way you would expect: greetings, description of the flight (uneventful), arrival and immigration (Italian – need I say more?), baggage claim (again, Italian). But once outside of baggage claim and customs, she quickly saw a young Italian woman holding a sign card with her name on it. The woman’s name was Annabella, and she was to be Lauren’s liaison with the Rome office of the Italian accounting firm that they were assisting. Annabella drove her to the hotel to check in and deposit her luggage. They got a quick Italian business lunch and went to the office for a few hours to size up the task ahead and lay out plans for the next two weeks. They left the office at 7 p.m. (19:00 Central European) and went to a small family-run trattoria near the hotel before Annabella dropped Lauren off at the for the night.

There was also a second email that she sent just to me.

“Dad, I know that you are missing me as much as I miss you, Darling, and you can’t imagine how good I feel knowing that Georgia is there to comfort you. BUT, ... I don’t want you and Georgia to get so comfortable that you forget my sister.”

An aside here. Lauren and Jane really do see themselves as sisters. There is a closeness between them, an attachment that could not be any stronger if they were related by blood. I think part of it could be the fact that they both lost their mothers, at about the same age. There’s also another aspect to their sisterhood: they share the same fathers.

Her email continued,

“With Georgia there, and all the attention surrounding my trip, Janey has been stuck with just that hideous troll Matthew to service her sweet, delicate femininity.”

Of course, Lauren does not see Matthew as a hideous troll. Lauren’s eyes see the character in others. They can see the fake, the insincere, the vacuous, the deceptive and, occasionally, the cruel. When she looks at Matt, Lauren’s eyes see strength and kindness and love, wrapped in a pleasant-looking male package. You and I would look at Matt and see an average, decent-looking guy. In Lauren’s eyes, he is beautiful.

“So, dear Dad, PLEASE rescue our little Janey from her terrible fate – SOON! Also, I see the way that Matthew has looked at Georgia since the first day she arrived. I bet that he has some special kinds of lovin’ he’d like to try with her, and I think that she’s kind of curious about him (about Janey, too, for that matter!). Anyhow, dear Dad, I know you’ll let Janey know how much you love her, or you’ll have a lot of explaining to do to me!

“This assignment will be terribly exciting, but I think you already know how much I am missing you. Please take care of everyone I love,

Your Princess.”

Okay – I admit it – I bawled like a baby. Fortunately, no one was around to observe my disgustingly unmanly performance, although I think my red eyes did garner a few curious looks later on.

********

Apparently Georgia had also received an instructional email or two from Lauren, because one evening when we were sitting together on the small loveseat-giant armchair in our bedroom, watching TV, out of nowhere, Georgia asked, in a provocative way,

“So ... tell me about Jane. Is she really the wild woman that Lauren hints at?”

“Jane – Janey – is, how shall I put this, ‘uninhibited.’ She has a rather – ‘creative’ – approach to sex. She’s certainly the boldest of all of us and is usually up for trying most things, even if she decides later that she doesn’t like something and doesn’t want to do it again. Also, she has the most adventurous tastes in pornography. I can’t believe some of the shit she comes up with. But we also end up watching it with her, and it’s usually followed by some pretty wild sex. And she really likes dirty talk. I don’t mean just crude talk. I mean really lewd, suggestive talk that can drive you wild.”

Georgia then asked, “As I understand it, you and Jane have a special relationship – because of the first time?”

“Yeah, I guess you’d say we do, because of that first night I spent with Janey to sort of prepare her to get her father to make love to her. It was Lauren’s idea that if we could get Jane used to the thought of sex with ‘a’ father, it wouldn’t be so big a leap to sex with her father. We had a beautiful night together, and I guess it worked, because here we are now. So everything we all have now comes from that night. And I don’t mean the sex, which is crazier and more satisfying than I could have dreamed of in my wildest imagination. What I mean is, we have a family here – four people – now five, with you – who care deeply about each other and love each other and share a wonderful life together. So, if it weren’t for your amazing granddaughter, none of this would be here, nothing would be like it is.

“But, yes. That first time with Janey, the sex was incredibly exciting. But through it all, the main thing I kept thinking was how I had to make it perfect for her – almost like protecting her – so that she and her father could have the kind of relationship that’s so important to Lauren and me. And ever since that night, I’ve had those feelings of love and protectiveness – almost like how I feel about my own daughter. Matt and I have talked, and we’re pretty much agreed that if anything were to happen to either of us, the other would look after both girls like they were our own.

“Jane sounds very special. Matt must be, too.”

“She is, and he is. Lauren absolutely adores him, ‘though I’ll bet that hasn’t escaped your notice, has it?”

“You’re right, James, there is something special there. But I don’t think it’s something that could ever come between you and Lauren.

“You’re a good man, James. But then, I’ve known that since you were a boy. Now, you’re a man-sized version of that boy. And speaking of ‘man-sized version,’ I think it might be time for you to re-unite your man-sized version with Jane. From what Lauren told me, you have a lot of relationship maintenance work to catch up on. Plus, maybe you could pick up some new ideas. You don’t want to get boring, do you, James?”

“But what about you? Won’t you feel lonely and neglected if I spend all my time boffing cute little Janey?” I could scarcely get this out with a straight face.

“No, I’m betting that somewhere around this place I’ll find a man who is tired of fucking little teeny boppers and is yearning for sex with a real woman who knows a thing or two about the world. OH, MATT...”

And so, we arranged that, beginning Friday evening, the holiday weekend would be devoted to re-acquaintances and new acquaintances.

When Friday evening rolled around, we decided that we didn’t want to waste any of our special time with the hassle going out, maybe driving and having to find a place to park, Friday crowds, waiting for the check, etc., etc. Instead, we ordered out to a local place that offers good Mediterranean-Middle Eastern food. Like another dinner with the four of us, except for one thing. When we sat down, Janey sat next to me and Georgia sat next to Matt.

We enjoyed the dolmas and baba ghanouj and the lamb kefta and chicken kebabs, and while we had no Greek wine, Matt remembered that we had a couple bottles of a Dalmatian white – probably from Croatia – tucked away in the wine closet. We paced ourselves so we wouldn’t be too stuffed for the evening’s planned agenda, although the baklava almost put us over the top. We cleaned up the dining table, put away the few leftovers, and went into the living room to watch a recorded TV show we all had wanted to see (Blue Bloods, if you’re interested).

Then we clicked off the TV. Janey and I headed to what would be our room, while Georgia took Matt’s hand and they walked off to his room for the long holiday weekend.

********

GEORGIA

I’ll bet you were expecting Matt to tell all about how he and I spent our salacious weekend together while his shameless whore of a daughter was having her way with my darling James. (Actually, Jane is a delight, and the more I get to know her, the more I adore her. But I have to give them some shit, don’t I?)

Well, I think the men have been allowed entirely too much say in how this story gets told, and it’s time for you to hear what really happens. And who better to tell you the real story than a mature, horny woman who’s experienced in the ways of the world?

While I could happily have remained with James for a while – say, 10 or 20 years – I completely understood Lauren’s desire to get me out of her father’s bed for a while, as well as allowing Jane in for the first time in a long time. In addition, I had been curious about Jane’s dad, Matt, and I saw enough of the signs to know that he was ‘curious’ about me too.

So when we all finished dinner Friday and turned off the TV, Matt did a warm and gentlemanly thing – he offered me his hand, which I accepted, and we walked, hand in hand, to his and Jane’s room. He pointed out their bathroom and offered me the opportunity to freshen-up first.

The unusual thing was, despite the fact we both knew we would very soon be naked and doing all sorts of perverted things to each other’s bodies, his whole manner was – how can I describe this – “polite.” The purpose of politeness is to make the other person feel comfortable and at-ease, and like genuine politeness, it worked. Any trace of awkwardness or uncertainty that I might have been feeling, vanished. I thought, “I am about to be ravaged by a gentleman.” I turned that idea over in my mind a few times, and I decided I liked it.

With that thought, I accepted Matt’s offer of the bathroom to freshen up a bit, use my toothbrush and a few of the toiletries I had brought from my room for the weekend, and slip on my Japanese floral-pattern dressing gown.

When I stepped out of the bath and into the bedroom, I was almost stunned by the look in Matthew’s eyes when he greeted me. Okay, I won’t insult you with some kind of false modesty – I’m a good-looking woman, and I’ve received my share of stares and compliments on my appearance over the years. But not since my Arthur have I experienced anything like the pure admiration I witnessed in Matt’s eyes. I swear, I felt something like a mini-orgasm just from the way he was looking at me.

I made an effort to pull it together. “So, Matt, I know you’ve taken advantage of opportunities to look me over the past few weeks. I hope I meet with your approval?”

Matt chuckled. “Janey’s been teasing me since you got here – about how hot you are – which you are – and how maybe I could learn a thing or two, or more, from you. But, honestly, there’s no way I could have prepared myself for this. You’re totally gorgeous. And you’re mine for the next three days – if you’ll have me?”

“Oh, I plan on having you as many ways as possible.” But then, “You mentioned Janey. She’s all right with this – with her father sharing her bed with a gorgeous Jezebel like me?” I was trying to keep it light, but I was also serious. I was about to intrude on her relationship with her own father, as well as the apparently special relationship that I was coming to realize existed between Matt and my granddaughter. Bluntly, there’s no way I wanted to screw that up.

“Oh, Janey’s quite all right with you and me. One, she really wants this time with Paul – James. You know the story there. They’re very important to each other. Second, she talked it over with me. Actually, she didn’t ‘talk anything over.’ She told me how things were going to be. Jane – and apparently, Lauren – feel that I need to spend time with someone other than them. She never explained how I need this – those two share some kind of mystical knowledge that Paul and I will never understand. And in their minds, you’re the perfect ‘someone’ to fill that role. Also, you’re hot.”

Well, I guess that answers that. We’d received the full benediction, so we were good to go.

Then Matt said, “But now, I’ve looked for quite a while, but I haven’t touched. May I change that?”

Horny as hell, and still a gentleman. Un-fucking-believable.

But instead of some blatant groping – which I would have welcomed, mind you – he took me by one shoulder and turned me, almost like a dance move, so that my back was against him and his arms were around me. And this modest embrace felt incredibly good. He apparently liked the feeling and smell of me, and I certainly liked the feeling of his entire body against mine, and of his arms ... I guess the best description would be ‘enfolding’ me.

He lowered his face into my hair, breathing me in, and I leaned by head back against him, and we just rocked back and forth gently for a few minutes. Then he asked, “How should we do this?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. I just assumed that we’d stumble into the bed in a heap of lust. I never really thought that it could be a decision. But I knew the correct answer.

“We have the entire weekend to try out all the flavors. Let’s start with vanilla.”

“Vanilla is one of the very best flavors.”

And it struck me: I could love this man. I could, except, of course, for his relationship with his Jane, as well as whatever-the-heck he has with my granddaughter. But still – the thought felt good.

And as it turns out, vanilla is a very good flavor indeed. We had it twice that night, and again before breakfast. All right, it wasn’t always pure vanilla. We also had it with chocolate – twice. The next time, we might even try it with sprinkles!

There was one way we enjoyed our ‘vanilla’ that came as a total revelation to me, however. In their room was a straight-backed chair, like a side chair for a dinner table. I guess they use it as a “dressing” chair, to sit on when putting on stockings and shoes. But after our first course, when I returned from the bathroom after taking a break, I was surprised to find that Matt was not waiting for me in the bed, as I expected him to be. Instead, he was sitting on this straight-backed chair, exhibiting an impressive erection.

Matt extended his right hand, and as I walked over to accept it, he brought me closer so I was standing almost beside him. As I bent down to kiss him, he moved his hand to my pussy and began to stroke the little patch of my light auburn-colored fuzz. I spread my legs – a little. After all, I’m not a slut!

He inserted one finger into my cleft and gently stroked me, and I responded immediately as my cream began to flow. He took two fingers to gather up some of this cream and spread it around the tip of his gorgeous cock and then guided me over him. I moved to straddle his legs, and I placed him at the entrance to my pussy and, with his hands on my hips, I lowered myself until that beautiful cock was all the way inside of me.

It was perfect – filling me as completely as possible without bumping or poking into anything that would be uncomfortable. He could move his hips up and down a little, but I controlled most of the action, up, down, and around.

But even better, this position, with me straddling his lap, put my nipples just below his mouth and my face just above his, so we could kiss and look in each other’s eyes. We could both see most of each other’s bodies. And, best of all, our arms were totally free to touch and hold each other, a little or a lot. In my many years of adventures, I have tried sex in virtually every position and every place, short of standing up in a hammock (although I once had anal in a hammock – very tricky!). But this one was totally new to me, and I have to tell you, it’s perhaps the most ... fulfilling position I’ve ever tried.

Another advantage: It required very little exertion by either party, allowing us to truly enjoy each other, for hours, if we wanted. We chose not to go that long, so after about 40 minutes and two gentle orgasms for me, Matt used his freedom of movement to reach around me and massage, then insert, his finger into my asshole and work it around, and this triggered the wonderful orgasms we both wanted.

We sat that way for – for I don’t know how long – holding, kissing, touching, hugging, breathing each other in, leaving me feeling more incredibly loved – and loving – than I had since I lost my beautiful Arthur. The only thing I could compare this to was that first time with James. Imagine that – nothing like this for seven years, and then two times in two weeks. I felt so fortunate that I began to cry. And dear Matt, bless him, didn’t ask. He knew that it was the good kind of cry, and he held me just a little more firmly.

And this was just halfway through our first night.

********

PAUL (“JAMES”)

It was good to be with Janey again. Even though we’ve been together a hundred times or more, there was always that first-night connection between us. Also, I’d like to flatter myself that she thinks I’m a pretty good lay. And she is special – as precious to me as my very own daughter. As soon as we got into the room, we fell into each other arms. Trite, but accurate. We held each other, I, nuzzling her long, curly hair, she, resting her cheek and one hand on my chest.

“I’ve missed you, Paul.”

“It’s been too long, hasn’t it, Honey? With Georgia here, and then Lauren’s trip, it’s been a bit crazy. But being with you reminds me of how we all started, and I’m grateful every day, for every bit of it.”

I sat down together in the oversized armchair we have in the bedroom, and Jane sat on my lap and put her cheek against my shoulder and her arm across my chest.

“You’ve been kinda busy the past two weeks, haven’t you?”

“Are you referring to Georgia? Don’t worry, Honey. She’s not a threat to you – or to Lauren. Our relationships are very different. She is an ‘old love’ that we never got to consummate – until now. I’m not sure how to explain it to you. Maybe the best way to describe it is that we are dear, long-time friends who finally got to fuck each other and still remain the old friends we’ve always been. She isn’t my ‘great new romance,’ and I’m nor hers. Her great romance was – still is – her husband, Art. It’s been seven years since he died and she’s still deeply, passionately in love with him.

“And she’s very respectful of Lauren – and of you. Her young attitude and demeanor make you forget that she’s old enough to understand what’s important, and what’s valuable and needs to be protected.

“So, ... she’s not going to distract – or, at least, not excessively distract – Lauren’s dad from her, or from her sister! Plus, I think she’s kind of interested in your dad. Things Lauren has said have made her curious. Also, she thinks you’re luscious.”

“My, she is a perceptive woman, isn’t she!” And then, “Paul, do we have to fuck tonight? I’m liking this so much that I want to spend the rest of this evening this way. We can talk and watch TV or a movie and maybe read, and then talk some more. Because, Darling, I have missed you. And it’s not just your magnificent and talented manly organ – I’ve missed the man behind the organ!”

And so we spent our first evening of our weekend of wild, unbridled lust watching TV, eating ice cream, and talking. We fell asleep cuddling.

... until about 2:30 a.m., when I was awakened by a hand groping around where my legs meet, and a voice hoarsely demanding, “Paul, wake up and fuck me. Now!”

I know what that kind of summons means.

I woke up sometime the next morning with a weight on my chest and having some difficulty in breathing. It took a few seconds to realize that the weight was Jane, lying on top of me, with my cock jammed in the back of her throat and her pussy mashed up against my lips. Her pussy smelled like, well, it smelled like sex – her abundant juices and my cum from last night. Some of the cum was trickling out her asshole. I guess we must have done that, too.

And it wasn’t long before Jane sensed my proximity to her asshole and ordered me, “Paul, suck my ass! Suck your cum out of my asshole, you fucker! You like that – you like sucking my dirty little asshole, don’t you?”

I did like it. I liked having my face pressed all the way in between the sweet cheeks of her lovely young ass, and the heady anal smell, and the slippery, oily juice I was extracting from her rectum. The whole experience was making my head spin. That, combined with feeling my rigid cock jammed all the way into Janey’s throat. It’s not the feeling of her mouth on my cock. It’s knowing that she’s actually trying to make herself choke and gag on my dick, that she’d try to take it all the way into her stomach if she could – that’s the turn-on.

“Now, eat me, Baby.”

I knew what that meant, too. I lifted Janey’s hips a little so my mouth was in the right position. I noticed all the dried juices caked on her pubes, and I was hit with the nastiness of it all. I dove in, first licking and probing with my tongue while she squirmed, alternately trying to move away and then forcing herself against me, at the same time trying to jam my cock farther and farther down her throat.

But what she had said was “Eat me,” and that’s what she wanted. I started “gently,” by just squeezing her outer lips with my teeth, but then chewed on them. And then she said, “Now!” and I knew what to do. I sucked on her inner lips until they were swollen and sagging and then began to bite, then chew, on them. I sucked her clit until it was swollen, then held it between my teeth and tugged on it, then began to chew on her clit as I dug my fingernails into those firm, round asscheeks. Basically, I just went crazy on her, knowing there was virtually no way I could do anything she didn’t want to happen.

I just kept on until she yanked her head and mouth off my cock, bent backward, and practically howled, “Aaaaaaghhhh...” for several seconds. That was my cue to stop my assault on her pussy and wait for what I knew was coming.

She threw one leg over and turned around and lined my cock up, and then she just dropped herself all the way onto my cock in a single move. I was quite hard because I hadn’t come (I typically can’t come from oral sex), and I could feel the head of my cock bang into her cervix. I heard her grunt, but she didn’t complain or stop. I grabbed both tits and squeezed then as hard as I could, and she dug her fingernails into my chest muscles while she brutally bounced up and down on my cock, her long, curly hair flying around with every bounce.

“Cum for me, Baby, cum for me.”

That was my cue to put my index finger on her asshole and start rubbing it and moving my finger in an out. And that put us both over the top. I arched my back to penetrate her cunt as far as I possibly could, while she dug her nails into me. She began jerking and crying while I shot every last bit of my remaining sperm into her.

Then, we both just collapsed. We lay there, my arms around her panting body, her cheek on my chest, that lovely, soft hair nestled beneath my chin. How long, I don’t know. And, as she so often does, Janey said to me, “Thank you, Paul.”

What could I say? “You’re welcome, my precious darling.”

We came down, got up, cleaned up, and, lightly dressed, went to the kitchen. There we found Matt and Georgia, finishing their breakfast cleanup and having another mug of coffee.

And Janey and I broke up laughing. They were like two people who knew each other a whole lot better than they did 24 hours ago. They were so cute – giggling like two kids, touching, laughing, kissing, touching some more. They were fun to watch, and it made Janey and me happy to see that they were so obviously happy.

“So, ... good night?” Janey asked, insinuatingly.

Georgia replied, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a game of Scrabble as much, have you, Matthew?”

We all laughed, and Jane went over to give her dad a big hug and a kiss, and I wrapped Georgia in my arms and gave her a hug and a fond ass-squeeze. While we never had any doubts, it’s still a good feeling to see that people you care about managed to hit it off with each other. In this case, it looked like they “hit it off” quite well – and quite often, apparently.

Just to make sure, I caught Matt alone a little later. “So ... you two having fun?”

“Yes – enormous fun. She’s an incredible woman – the brain of a sixty-year-old, the body of a thirty-year-old, and the libido of an 18-year-old. If I weren’t so exhausted, I’d ask if there were any more like her at home.”

“Sorry, old man, closest thing to her I’ve got is her granddaughter.”

We all decided to make the entire day a double date. A little light window shopping, lunch on the patio of an Italian restaurant known for its antipasti, lingering over one more glass of soave, a walk along the Lake after lunch. Then, on a peculiar whim, we went to a matinee showing of the latest Star Wars installment. By that time, we’d had enough of being out and about. We stopped into an upscale deli and picked up some prepared food, a dozen croissants, and a lemon meringue pie, so we could have a no-fuss dinner back at the condo. It was a good day. We almost managed to forget that Lauren would not be waiting for us when we got back home.

We had fun. We talked, wondered what Lauren was doing that moment (it was 1:00 a.m. in Rome, so it could be anything), plans for tomorrow (we’d decide when the time came), and we actually did play two games of Scrabble.

Then Jane announced, “I think Paul and I would like to go to our room now, wouldn’t we?” Not a question, but an announcement.

“Why, yes, I think we would like to go to our room. See you two in the morning.” Go to room, shut door. Prepare for what I knew would be coming.

GEORGIA

James has already told you about how we spent Saturday. What he couldn’t tell you was how much I enjoy being with these people. Then it hit me. For the first time in seven years, I feel like I’m part of a family. I liked the feeling.

When, fairly early in the evening, Jane announced, “I think Paul and I want to go to our room now,” I figured that something special was up.

As they walked off to their room, I looked at Matt and raised my eyebrows questioningly. Matt caught my expression. He took a deep breath, picked up the wine bottle, refilled our glasses, and explained,

“Every now and then, my little girl needs something that her regular bouts of sex with me and Paul – and sometimes Lauren, as you’ve probably guessed by now – don’t give her. She feels the need to be taken, and by ‘taken,’ I’m mean ‘assaulted.’ Very close to no restraints at all. I just can’t bring myself to do it. Paul can – barely, but he can. I’m guessing that that’s what’s happening tonight.”

I have to admit – I was a somewhat shaken by Matt’s words. He saw that I was concerned by what he’d told me, and he reached over and took my hand. “Don’t worry – it’s always worked out okay.”

I was still a little unnerved, so he said, “Do you trust Paul? Well, so do I. He loves Janey and he’ll be good to her. He always has. In the meantime, perhaps there’s something you and I can do... ?”

Once again, the gentlemanly-offered hand and the sweet, almost romantic, walk to our room.

First, though, unlike the previous night, Matt closed the door. I think he did not want to hear any of the sounds that might emanate from Janey’s and James’ room, and I understood his wishes.

Well, if Friday night was “vanilla,” you’d have to call Saturday night tutti frutti.

Tonight there was no need for getting acquainted or courtship. As soon as we were in the room, we went straight to undressing each other, I, helping with his shirt and slacks (and briefs), he, with my top and wrap-around skirt (no bra, no panties). And as soon as those were out of the way, Matt fell to his knees and buried his face in my pussy and tried to start loving me there.

Well, that was a dramatic gesture, almost romantic. However, the anatomy isn’t really conducive to accomplishing much of anything that way. I backed myself to the edge of the bed, holding dear Matthew’s head, guiding him along with me, so that when I fell back on the bed, he was there to lift my legs over his shoulders, whereupon he commenced giving me a very accomplished pussy licking.