Chapter 1

What woke me up was the feel of large but soft hands on my breasts and the insistent pressure of a large, hard cock against my ass crack, straining as though demanding entry into my sensitive rear passage.

Oh, shit, I hope he doesn't plan to fuck me in the ass this morning.

When his fingers began to gently play with my nipples, I knew that this we no middle of the night piss hard on; he was awake and his cock needed attention. The only problem was that I was still tired, still had an hour's sleep left in my body. But there was no way that I was going to allow my dear, sweet lover's cock to suffer from neglect, so I rolled over and moved my head to his stomach, where I began to kiss his belly button, licking the remnants of the umbilical cord that had fed his once teeny body until it was ready to be born and to grow into the man who would become my fuck-mate, my soul-mate, lover and husband.

I held his hot meat, stroking it slowly, not trying to help him achieve an orgasm but just to give him the pleasure of a woman's touch. His hand caressed the back of my head; there was no need for him to press it down toward his groin, for he knew I would soon be there of my own volition, gobbling up my creamy liquid pre-breakfast appetizer. I kissed my way down toward my target, his dark and curly pubic hair rasping against my tongue as I got close. He moaned softly, squirming and pressing his ass deeper into the mattress to facilitate my progress.

My tongue licked across the head of that monster love muscle. It tried to push its way into the little slit that served as the point of egress for both his piss and his sperm. My husband has superb self-control. Like every man, he wakes up hard from his accumulated piss; once in a while he will empty his bladder into my mouth, but in some crazy form of ritual, we only do that in the bathroom, at the toilet or in the shower, sometimes the tub. When he wants me to give him a blowjob in the morning, he is able to blast his sperm into me and keep his urine inside until he reaches the bathroom.

As I waited for his signal to take him into my mouth, my ears strained. Finally, there it was, barely a whisper.

"I love you, baby."

We had dated maybe a dozen times, beginning to fuck on our third date — why oh why did I wait so long - before he had finally let those words out of his soul. Yet now he doesn't stick it into any part of me without first reminding me of his love for me. It's not something that he needs to say as part of his sex routine; he fucks plenty of pussy without saying it. Trust me; I've witnessed it many times, kneeling on the bed beside him, fondling him, caressing him, as he sticks that love muscle into another woman, or sometimes another man. But with me, he adores me so much that he has to, he just has to say that to me before the foreplay turns to now-play.

My mouth encircled the head, now shiny from the combination of his pre-cum and my saliva. He murmured, squirmed again and reached under me to squeeze my breasts, ever so gently. I've got healthy lungs and he loves to play with them. My hand pushed his thighs apart so that it could reach his balls. I call them his tennis balls, obviously an exaggeration, but their slap against my ass when he strokes into me reminds me of both the sound and the sting of a hard hit tennis ball. My tongue ran around the dark crown of that beautiful cock, rinsing the ridge behind it, darting down the length of it toward his nuts. I took one testicle into my mouth and sucked it lovingly; the other one I ignored. He smiled but moaned at my refusal to help his body back into balance by attending to that second testicle.

His strong hands lifted me bodily, swinging me around, pivoting my mouth on his cock, so that my pussy was suspended above his face. I could feel my moisture oozing out of me, leaking onto his cheeks. Soon his tongue was encircling my clit; his goal in life is to not cum unless I'm there first.

I felt his thumb slide along the crack of my ass, parting my cheeks and beginning to press against my pucker. Oh, no, my darling, you know my asshole is only for special occasions. I knew that he could read my mind by the tension of my muscles, but he didn't stop, so I quietly lifted his hand away from its target and held it for a few seconds. When I let it loose, he returned it to the small of my back to press me into his face.

We continued my six and his nine, the perspiration pouring off me, the blood pumping inside me, until it was time for me to cum. I began my familiar sobbing as the orgasm hit, my juices pouring over my lover's face. That's when he let go; unlike most men, he cums without noise, without oral warning, just the expansion of his cock and balls and a slight increase in the sound of his breathing. The milk of his love spurted into my mouth, a million sperm cells — I don't know, I just made up that number - with every throb, swimming in the gooey cream of his semen. I sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, and then just sucked, leaving some of it in my mouth for the tender duel of tongues which was to follow. I've found that most guys don't mind tasting their own cum during after-play, although a few object. My darling loves it, craves it, feels cheated if I swallow it all myself.

"Good morning, sweetie." Those were the first words since his 'I love you.' "Rise and shine, baby. We have minds to mold."

I generally sleep naked; ever since we've been married, virtually every night ends with sex of some sort. Usually, it's plain, old, beautiful fucking, with all the variations that make up foreplay. Once in a while, he sticks it in my ass. UGH! I used to eat him a lot when I had my period, but when I finally gave in and let him fuck me and especially eat me during that 'time of the month', the oral sex became routinely part of the nightly foreplay.

I love his cock. Actually, I love anybody's cock, but my husband's in particular; a full nine inches of love meat, and fat. And when he unloads a blast of cum in my mouth, there's enough protein to keep me going for months. Of course, the fat part is why I don't relish him up my ass too often. The nine inches comes from him being black; excuse me, African-American. Which of course is dumb political correctness, since the last five or six generations of his family were born in the Caribbean. None of them had ever been to Africa. Anyway, my mother had a shit-fit when I brought him home, even though he was then already half way to his current position, a tenured full professor of English Literature. This husband-lover of mine is very cultured when he has clothes on. At that time, though, I myself was half way to my present gig, a tenured full professor of Mathematics at the same university, and mother had fantasized a tall, blonde and blue-eyed Danish man who would give her lots of white grandchildren. Sorry, Mommy, love comes first.

We live in an old Tudor home on campus, complete with a huge bedroom, easily big enough for the king size bed in which we often entertain company. It's generally only one at a time; we love threesomes, but we've done more than one foursome in all the years we've been here. Most of the time the company is female, but once in a while I get to take on Earl and another guy at the same time. Anyway, that's what this story is all about. By the way, I'm Kim. We're both Andersen. With an 'e'. Well, he's half Danish, anyway, just not blonde and white. For the record, that Danish half was never in Africa either.

I sleep on expensive satin sheets; they feel luxurious. Only I'm a squirter when I cum, and Earl blasts out a lot of the creamy white stuff when he shoots off, plus my period never stops us, so the sheets get a lot of laundering, not a very large price to pay for so many orgasms.

My sexual attitudes probably began when I was about four. My Mommy had gone out, leaving me with my Daddy and my auntie Sue, Mommy's sister. Daddy and auntie Sue were both teachers; they said I was their Teacher's Pet. They put me down for a nap that day but I couldn't sleep, and after a while I got up and began to wander the house. I heard some noises and soon found them in the master suite, Daddy sitting in the easy chair and auntie Sue on her knees between his legs. They were both naked but that was nothing unusual; my parents often walked around the house sans clothing. Sue's head was bobbing up and down, and I could see that she had Daddy's penis in her mouth. Daddy was moaning softly.

Even back then, I knew that it was called a penis; not until much later did I learn all the synonyms and slang words for it. I could tell that it wasn't where Mommy and Daddy had told me that a penis goes to make a baby, they told me that was called a vagina, but I knew that there were lots of things in the world that I still hadn't learned.

"Daddy, I can't sleep."

Two heads spun toward me; I could see Daddy's penis pulsing, throbbing, spurting its production of sperm onto auntie Sue's crimson shocked face, encircling her gaping mouth. All was quiet as I watched the thick liquid drip down her cheeks to fall onto her breasts.

"Come over here, honey." It was Daddy speaking. I moved to him and he reached out his hands and hugged me tightly. Then he held me away from him at arm's length.

"Kimmie, dear, you mustn't tell anyone about this. It'll be our little secret, just the three of us; don't even tell Mommy, OK?"

I nodded; secrets were fun.

"Now go back to bed for your nap, honey."

I did so, but it took a while for me to fall asleep. The whole scene had been exciting; my parents had already told me about how a penis puts sperm into a woman's vagina to make babies, but I had never actually seen them do it, had never seen what the sperm looked like nor seen it shooting out. I still didn't know what it had been doing on Sue's face, but I didn't even try to figure it out. I slept, and forgot all about it. Unfortunately, I also forgot all about the part about keeping it a secret.

It was maybe a few days or a week later. I was playing with some toys; Mommy was watching a soap opera while she watched me to make sure that I didn't hurt myself.

"Mommy, why would Daddy put his sperm on auntie Sue's face instead of in her vagina?"

When I think about it now, I laugh to myself, but back then I was shocked to see Mommy's head jump up; she must have gotten whiplash.

"WHAT?"

I was scared of her reaction; though I didn't repeat the question, she obviously had heard me.

"When was this, honey?" She spoke softly, soothing me.

"I don't remember. It was last week, maybe. I couldn't sleep and they were in your bedroom and when I said something, I saw Daddy's penis leaking sperm onto her face."

Mommy's lips were tight. "Oh, it's something grownups do sometimes. I'll explain it someday. Did he touch you, Kim?"

"He hugged me."

"I mean, did he touch your privates?"

"No, Mommy."

"Did he have his clothes on?"

"No, he was undressed like with you."

"And how about auntie Sue?"

"No, she wasn't dressed either. The sperm dribbled on her breasts."

"Did Daddy undress you?"

"Oh, no. He just sent me back to bed."

"OK. Meanwhile, why don't you go take a nap?"

I did so, falling asleep quickly. I was awakened some time later by screaming from the kitchen, Mommy's voice shrill and insistent, Daddy's loud and angry. I put my head under the covers, but I didn't fall back asleep until the screaming ended with a slammed door. When I finally got up, I found Mommy in the kitchen, her head on the table, crying. She was using words I had never heard before.

"Son of a bitch. Fucking no good bastard. Dirty mother-fucker. Cock-sucking useless bitch whore. Filthy slut. I swear to you, Kim, you'll never see either one of those fuckers again."

Over the years, my mother gradually told me more and more of the facts of adult life, all the while becoming more and more angry at Daddy and auntie Sue as she spoke. She couldn't understand why Daddy had found it necessary to seek sexual pleasure with another woman, for she, Mommy, was quite attractive. I like to think that I get my looks from her, and I'm quite proud of my looks. Yet even as I absorbed the concept of adultery and its impact on a marriage, I couldn't get angry at my father; he hadn't hurt me, nor attempted to molest me, and I have always loved him, though I had no idea of his whereabouts. Mommy attempted, whether consciously or not, to teach me to hate all men, but I never got to that point. After all, she did do some dating from time to time. She also had some women friends, one of whom moved in with us for a few months. By that time, I was old enough to understand the idea of lesbian love, and I knew what was going on in the bedroom they shared. I met some of the men, but none of them ever stayed overnight; if she got laid, it was outside the house.

Or so I thought...

My uncle Frank, Mommy's brother — and auntie Sue's also — had a tattoo parlor near us but lived on the other side of town. Every so often, uncle Frank would come over for dinner after he closed the shop. It was fun; we would talk, play games, and listen to music, all those happy family things. Once in a while, I would wander into his shop and look at the pictures of the various tattoos he had done on his customers. Some were simple, some quite intricate. There was also one book of pictures which he kept under lock and key, but I was old enough by then to guess what type of things were in there. Sometimes Frank stayed over, using the guest bedroom.

One night Frank was staying over. I was twelve at the time. About ten o'clock, I went up to bed after kissing him and Mommy goodnight. I fell asleep instantly, but about an hour later some noise woke me up; I lay in bed with my eyes open waiting to fall asleep again. A few moments later, I saw Mommy stick her head in my door, checking to see that I was asleep, and then continuing past my door toward the guest room. She was naked! In the brief second, as she was illuminated by the dim bulb of the night light and the partially open door of the guest room, I saw a single nipple in profile as well as a dark patch of pubic hair.

I was only twelve, but here's what I knew. Since infancy, I had known the proper names and uses of the interesting parts of the body. Hanging out with my friends in school, I had quickly learned the slang names for the parts and uses. In addition, the computer in my room brought me all sorts of pictures, as well as story sites like this one, and my poor innocent mother thought that the full-screen solitaire game, available to instantly cover whatever else I was watching, was my only vice. To top it all off, my friend Angel's brother Jackie kept a DVD hidden, or so he thought, and whenever possible, she and I watched it together, generally masturbating as we learned the ins and outs — no pun intended — of fucking and sucking.

So by then I knew what Daddy and auntie Sue had been doing, and in that quick fraction of a second, I also knew what Mommy and uncle Frank had planned.

The hallway brightened momentarily as Mommy opened the guest room door, then dimmed quickly as she closed it, but not quite fully. I do not to this day know why she didn't close it fully. Did they want to be able to hear me if I called?

I masturbated most every night. Therefore, while I kept my rapidly developing breasts wrapped in a pajama top, I slept bottomless most of the time, unless I had my period. The realization of what was about to happen sent the message down between my legs; my pussy began to gush. My fingers immediately rushed into my vagina, and my thumb began the ritual of massaging my love button. I knew enough to do it quietly, but while that enabled me to hear sounds from the room next door, I was unable to identify words. Knowing though that the sounds were those of fucking, illicit incestuous fucking, I slowed down to better enjoy the event. Rather than my usual rush to orgasm, that night I was in no hurry.

But it couldn't last forever, or even as long as my mother stayed with Frank. In fact, it took only ten minutes or so before my clit succumbed to the excitement. My cum was silent but sweaty, exhausting and wet. I turned onto my side, satisfied and warm, and closed my eyes. But sleep would not come; the sounds from the other room filtered through to my ears, indecipherable yet unmistakable. And exciting.

I tossed and turned for fifteen minutes. My heartbeat had subsided from the orgasm but my pussy would not dry up; perhaps that was due to the continuing action of my fingers. I slid out of bed and tiptoed down the hall toward the sounds. The smell of cigarette smoke drifted out the door; I heard the ashtray scrape the table as the butt was killed.

"What do you say, Frankie? Ready for Round 2?"

"You bet, sis. How do you want it this time?"

"Eat me first, honey. Suck out that sweet stuff you left in there before."

"Sure thing, baby."

I heard the rustling of bed clothes, the slight squeak of bed springs, and then, soon thereafter, that soft purring moan that signaled Mommy's pleasure. I couldn't resist any longer; I knelt and crept toward the partially open door. What I saw reminded me of what I had already seen on Jackie's DVD, but this was REAL.

My vantage point was virtually below the foot of the bed. Most of what I saw was uncle Frank's naked rear end with his knees partially spread at the foot of the bed, his feet hanging over the bottom. I saw, I stared at, a hard cock hanging down, partially hidden by his ball sac, the crack of his ass cheeks above them, his asshole hidden inside. Of my Mommy I could see only her outspread knees and feet; the rest was hidden by uncle Frank's body. The cock was smaller than those shown in the movie and on the websites I visited, but still it was larger than I remembered between Daddy's legs, even that fateful day when I saw it fully engorged and spitting its seed all over auntie Sue's face. I couldn't see Frank actually eating Mommy's pussy, but I was able to tell from the small movements of his head that he was working his way all around her sacred center. I listened to her sounds of pleasure until they turned to gasps and her hand appeared to pull uncle Frank's head off her clit, which is where I presumed it was.

All movement stopped then as Mommy began a soft giggle. All movement, that is, except my hand attacking my clit, the hand breaching the meager defenses of my downy bush and pushing its way as deeply as possible into my soaking pussy. I was surprised to hear my mother's clear voice.

"OK, Frankie, come on up here."

Crawling on his knees, just as I had done down the hall, but to a much different goal, uncle Frank moved his body up over Mommy. Her legs were wide open to accept his hanging meat, pink pussy lips quivering as he slid into her, disappearing from view. I had not yet learned the difference between a man sliding into a woman hands free and when one or the other of them must spread the pussy lips and aim the phallic weapon at its target; the one suggesting experience with a partner, the other fumbling.

But Frank's cock reappeared almost immediately, as his ass lifted, pulling his weapon up into view on his backstroke. He had apparently had a sufficient time to rest and rejuvenate. His strokes were strong but unhurried, his thrusts deep, his withdrawals far enough to reveal the ridge below the purple crown of his cock. To my childish eyes, he was there for the duration, having no intention of cumming before Mommy got there, a decision never observed in the DVD but clear from the written words of the hot stories. My hand continued to service my virtually naked body as I watched; occasionally I removed it from my pussy to lick the fingers dry.

Mommy's breathing became irregular, as does mine when I am about to cum. I watched in awe as her hand crept around uncle Frank's hip and the tips of her fingers slid up and down the crack of his ass. Suddenly they stopped and I could see the middle one disappear inside Frank. The sharp intake of air in his lungs confirmed my thinking; I wondered briefly if I should tell Angel's brother to get a DVD that showed anal action, but then he would probably want to do it to me. So far, I had limited him to some outside-the-blouse feels, except for that one time when I let him play with my nipples under the bra; I didn't know if I was ready for more.

Mommy's finger explored uncle Frank in time with his stroking into her, but soon she removed it and began to squeeze his balls, adding a quietly whispered "Now!" With that, she began to pant, a clear sign of her orgasm, while Frank's grunt told a similar story. His backstrokes now showed a cock coated with creamy sauce as he emptied his sperm into Mommy. That's when I had another cum, holding off any noise so as not to announce my presence. My own juices poured on to the carpeting, but I was confident that they would dry and leave no evidence before Mommy left Frank's bed.

Mommy pulled the gooey cock out of her and used it to drag its owner forward.

"Clean me off, sis."

"Of course, honey."

I heard rather than saw my mother sucking my uncle's meat dry. Then she slid out from under him, leaving him still kneeling, and spread his ass cheeks with her hands. When she put her face in there and began to lick his back door, I gasped.

And she heard me.

She turned her face toward the door, looked down to see my face just above the floor, and she smiled at me.

Do you smile to tempt a lover, Mona Lisa, or is this your way to hide a broken heart?

Her face returned to what seemed to be a routine action for her, the servicing of uncle Frank's asshole, and I ran back to my bedroom. Jumping into bed, I curled into a fetal position and began to cry. It seemed like forever before I heard her whispering above me. "Are you awake, Kim?"

I looked up at her, standing above me stark naked, and began to cry again. She took that as a yes and slid into bed next to me. Her arms opened and she pulled me between her breasts.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Kimmie. It's just that sometimes a woman just needs a man for her sexual relief."

A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.

"But Mommy, uncle Frank is your brother. That's incest."

"Oh, sweetie, your uncle and I have been getting it on since we were about your age. And your auntie Sue joined us. It was wonderful growing up. I'm just sorry that you don't have a brother or sister to comfort you the way we comforted each other back then."

"That's what you call it? Comforting each other?"

"Watch your tone, little girl."

"But then why did you get so angry when you learned about Daddy and auntie Sue?"

"Because I stopped having sex with your uncle and aunt when I became engaged to your father. That would have been cheating and I didn't like cheating; I never did it. They understood; at least Frank did."

What would Mommy say now if I ever told her about how my husband and I encourage each other to fuck outside the marriage, that we even do it together sometimes?

I fell asleep, with my head still buried between her breasts.

It must have been hours later when I awoke, though it was still dark out. My head was in the crook of Mommy's left arm and I felt her soft right hand caressing my breasts. More importantly, I felt her legs wrapped around my right thigh, her pubic hair against my leg and the pressing motion of her pussy humping against me. I stiffened and I felt her stop for a moment as she realized that I had awoken; then she resumed her masturbatory action against my leg, her breath accelerating to match the speed of her groin. Suddenly she stopped moving and a long sigh escaped her lips. She had cum and I stayed motionless so that she could enjoy the afterglow of her orgasm.