"Have you paid the babysitter yet?" Jessica Cooper called from the baby's room.

"I'm just about to," her husband replied.

Melanie smiled as Rick Cooper buried his face between her legs. She loved when he went down on her, but she loved what was coming next even more.

Rick teased her clit with one more lick, and then straightened up. His cock jutted out over her tummy, a long pink shaft topped with a dark pink helmet-shaped head.

"Ready?"

She shifted slightly, opening her legs even more. "Give it to me."

"As my lady wishes."

That was one of those goofy things she liked about him. He acted so kind and chivalrous, even when he was going to fuck her brains out.

He pressed the head of his cock down through her heated cleft, finally reaching her entrance. She caught her breath as he did so. There was this moment when you felt it, but it wasn't in yet. Sometimes she fantasized that the guy would be so big she'd burst when they'd fill her.

Rick shifted slightly, then leaned over and pressed in.

She closed her eyes, clutching her breasts. This always felt so good, his male hardness sliding over every fiery nerve in her channel, pushing into her wet heat. He pulled back just a hair, and thrust again, going deeper. Another thrust, and she felt his balls against her bottom.

"God, you are so tight," he muttered. He held himself still, not daring to move a muscle.

One time, one time, she'd hitched up against him when he held himself like that, wanting him to continue, trying to pull him deeper. He'd lost control, pounding into her, coming in less than a minute. It'd been over far too soon for her tastes, and so now she held herself still, letting him control his emotions.

Finally, finally he pulled back and then began to thrust. She brought her legs up, hooking them on his thighs, pulling him down into her. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his side. He had muscles, firm, manly muscles, but he wasn't the bulked up weight-lifter that some of the other girls at school drooled over. Of course they didn't pay attention to the most important muscle a man had, the one that was currently stuck all the way up her middle.

Jessica Cooper came in right then, closing the door behind her. She was wearing a black bra and panties. She'd been making sure the kids were asleep, and now she paused, watching them. Her hand slid over her breasts, but then pulled away. As if the touch reminded her, she unsnapped her bra and slid her panties off.

Melanie would have been content just to fuck Rick, but Jessica came as part of the 'payment, ' and this bought her silence. She swung her leg over Melanie's face, and carefully lowered herself, moving slightly back and forth, and then letting the lips of her sex just brushed Melanie's mouth. The musty smell of her arousal flooded the teenager's senses.

Melanie grasped the older woman's thighs, kissing them in turn before plunging her tongue into the woman's channel. Jessica gasped at that, and then pressed down.

She tongue-fucked the woman in time with Rick's thrusts. She wet her finger and worked it over the older woman's clit, drawing a flood of juices. She redoubled her efforts, and felt Jessica shudder from the touch.

She must have been already worked up, she thought. She'd probably been thinking about this for half the evening. But no amount of thinking actually prepared you for it.

Jessica ground her face down, and Melanie could feel the woman's body quiver. Her channel was flooded with her juices, and Melanie felt its walls rhythmically squeezing her tongue. It must have been too much; Jessica pulled away, her hand over her sex. That left Melanie free to enjoy what Rick was giving her.

She'd been getting more and more excited, and now free of the older woman's weight, she could toss her head, trying to cope with the storms of feeling that swept through her. Rick loomed above her, so strong, so male, so hard. She clutched him, feeling herself rising, arching up into him, trying to draw him deeper.

He responded, groaning and shifting to short, hard strokes. His face reddened, and his mouth opened. She saw the muscles stand out in his neck as his own pleasures peaked.

For just a moment they hung there, coming together. Wave after wave surged through her. She tried to hold on to the moment, tried to draw it out, and then she was slumping on the bed, her mind blank, her body filled with peace and light, and one hard cock.

They finally caught their breath. Rick leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek. Then, reluctantly, he pulled out.

Jessica was there in a flash, and Melanie shuddered as she felt the woman's tongue, swiping through the folds of her cleft, burrowing into the hole Rick had so wonderfully plugged, lapping up the 'man cream' he'd left there.

This was a turn-on all over again. If she'd been relaxed it would have been ... nice. But she was still coming down from her climax. Jessica's tongue sent right back up that slippery slope, and she burst into a million pieces.

When she finally regained her senses, Rick was lying on the bed beside her. Jessica, her face still wet from Melanie's juices, was licking and sucking his cock. She watched, her desires temporarily sated, as Rick finally rolled his wife over on her back and mounted her.

Jessica twisted and turned, bucking up into him. Melanie leaned over and tongued the woman's breasts, causing her to jerk her head several times before coming. That set Rick off, and he finally plunged into his wife and threw his head back, his whole body shaking.

When he finally pulled out, Melanie burrowed between Jessica's legs, doing to her what Jessica had done, licking up all of Rick's come, and, in the process, bringing Jessica off one more time.

They were tired, and Jessica snuggled into her husband's arms. Melanie rolled off the bed and gathered up her clothes. Her body had a liquid feel to it. She felt loose and wild, and for the moment, satisfied. She took a quick shower—it wouldn't do to get home smelling of sex. When she got out and dressed, Rick was wearing a pair of boxer shorts, and Jessica had on a robe. From the steamy looks they kept exchanging, it was clear they were going to go right back to bed.

"Next week?" Melanie asked.

"Next Tuesday would be perfect," Jessica said. "7:00 o'clock."

Melanie flashed them a smile and went out to her mother's car. She drove a couple of blocks and pulled into a supermarket parking lot. There she slumped behind the wheel, feeling drained. The Cooper's were so sweet, and understanding. Other couples might have been upset with her slutty behavior, but Jessica seemed to understand what drove a 16 year-old girl.

It'd been funny. She'd been babysitting for three years, but in all that time she'd accepted cash, and that'd been it. But in the last few months she'd somehow ended up in bed with better than half of her clients. Rick and Jessica were just the latest couple she screwed for her payment. They got off, she got off, the kids got looked after, and everyone was happy.

She didn't know why she couldn't keep her pants on any more. She didn't do that when she was on a date. But in the last few months she'd had to get it on two or three times a week; if she didn't, she jilled herself until all of her energy was gone and she was sore between her legs. It was like she'd turned into some sort of sex maniac.

She took a settling breath and went into the store. The nice thing about late-night shopping was that you didn't have any crowds. She had the list her mother had given her, and she worked through it quickly. The cashier helped her get the things in the car. She felt so ... exposed ... out in the parking lot, as if anything could happen. It was better with the doors locked.

She pulled into the garage and waited until the door was shut before unloading the car. The TV was off in the other room, so that meant her parents had probably gone to bed. Good, that meant nobody would notice anything she might have missed. Instead she put away the groceries, put out her books for school in the morning, and then went up to her room.

Her parents had gone to bed all right, she could hear her mother's moans and the faint nose their mattress gave off when they made love. She lay on her bed, picturing what was going on. Her mother was 37 years old, her father 40, and these last few months they'd acted like they were 16 and newly in lust. They made love at least three times a week, and sometimes more. And they'd even continued it after the baby.

She'd grown up thinking of herself as an only child. And then, two years ago, her mother had announced she was pregnant. Melanie had felt embarrassed. Nobody's 35 year old mother was pregnant, not unless she was a baby-factory and spit them out every other year. But now she had a little sister, and from the sounds of it, her parents were trying for number three.

The noise from the master bedroom finally subsided. Melanie rolled over and went to sleep, but her dreams were a confused mixture of Rick's cock, a vivid impression of what her father's cock must look like, and a wild orgy of naked, willing bodies. When her alarm went off her panties were soaked, and she felt as randy as she had before the Cooper's had gotten home.

She knew her mother wouldn't expect her up right away—normally she hit the snooze button several times before finally getting up—but this morning was different. She put a towel over her bedspread, remembered the night before, and let her fingers work their magic.

The climax seemed to settle whatever was bothering her. She took her shower and dressed without feeling as if her skin was on fire. Her nipples, which had been rock hard when she'd awakened, had relaxed. Now she wouldn't have bumps visible beneath her blouse when she got to school.

"Breakfast's ready."

"Be right there."

She gave her brown hair a critical look as she brushed it. She liked her bangs, but didn't like the rest of her look. It might be time to get it cut again. Now if she actually had any money from babysitting, she might be able to afford a haircut. Instead she'd be stuck with what she had until after school let out for the summer and she could get a paying job. She sighed. That was still two months away.

Her mother was wearing a short white blouse, and a longer navy skirt. That was one of those things that had changed in the last three years. Prior to that she couldn't remember her mother wearing a skirt very often. She had nice legs, and she should have been showing them off, but for some reason she hadn't.

"It's part of the dress code where I work," her mother said.

"You mean they make you wear a skirt?"

"Oh heavens, no," her mother laughed. "They want you to ... Let's just say that they expect you to dress a certain way, and a skirt is the most convenient way to do it. You'll find that out when you look for a job."

Melanie shrugged. She'd heard that several times, and she supposed it was true. She preferred her jeans and top, but she'd wear a skirt and blouse for an interview. She'd learned the year before that if you wanted to get a job, you made minor concessions to things like dress codes.

Her mother car-pooled with someone she worked with, and Melanie smiled her thanks to Mrs. Trafton when they pulled over and let her out at school. She had another boring day of classes. She went through the motions. The only interesting class was the one about computers, but you didn't want to look like you were doing too well or the other kids would tease her about being a 'big brain' or a 'nerd'. That would kill her social life and reputation.

Her mother and Mrs. Trafton picked her up just after the school bell rang. They both had flushed cheeks and seemed pumped about something. They were both in high spirits, and kept starting and stopping their conversation. She half-listened—it was about things that had happened at work—and then gave up on it. She had another concern.

She was horny. She wanted a guy. Prickles had filled her body right after she'd gotten in the car. She was squirming a little, too. She really wanted to spread her legs and rub herself to completion, but she was in public, and that was her mother in the front seat. She had to settle for crossing her legs and trying to ignore the way her nipples felt.

She made a bee line for her room and flopped on her bed. Her panties were soaked—they hadn't been in the Girls Room only minutes before the final bell—and her fingers brought her relief.

Afterwards she started on the chores she'd agreed to do around the house. This included the laundry; she'd rather do that than the vacuuming and dusting. While she was sorting clothes she ran into something that puzzled her. She hadn't done the laundry in a week. She had seven panties in the hamper, and seven of her dad's shorts. But there were only two pair of panties for her mother.

She figured she'd just missed something. Or maybe her mother was wearing nylons instead of panties. She knew some of the girls at school did that. Her mother always hand washed her pantyhose, so she shrugged and began loading the washing machine.

"Another babysitting job?" her mother asked after dinner. "That's ... what, three this week?"

"Two. I'm sitting for Mr. James."

"He's the one who's gay, isn't he?"

"That's what they say." He was really bisexual, as she'd recently found out.

"Then how did he end up with a little girl?"

"His wife died when the baby was just a few days old. I'm not sure of all of it, but it had to do with some sort of infection she caught before the baby was born."

Her mother nodded. "What time will you be home?"

"Mr. James and his partner are going to the Independent Film Festival. I think they'll be back about 10:00 or so."

"All right. Take your books, I'll see you about 10:30."

She had a good idea that her mother had plans for the evening. She'd seen her father bringing in some wood for the fireplace. That could be interesting, she thought. Making love next to a fireplace was supposed to be romantic.

Mr. James, Alan, and his partner, Bob, were back from the movies by 9:00. She had gotten his daughter in bed just before then. That left them time for some fun before she had to go home.

Thirty minutes later she smiled up at Alan. She was on her back with her legs apart. He was fucking her with slow, steady strokes. He'd already come once, recovered, and was now thrusting backwards onto Bob's cock as hard as he thrust forward into her pussy. It was like she was doing two guys at the same time, and all the more exciting for that reason.

Bob abruptly pulled back. His condom encased cock bobbed in the seductive light of the bedroom. "You interested in being the filling in a sandwich?" he asked her.

Alan slowed to a stop. "You mean... ?"

Melanie tried to hitch up on Alan. "Whatever," she ground out. She was close, so close, and just when she thought she could rise to completion, they'd stopped.

Bob and Alan rolled her over onto her side. "I'd rather be on my back. You get deeper that way."

"Just wait a minute or so," Bob said.

He reached behind her, and she felt his hand on her bottom. She stiffened when she felt his finger probing her ass, coating it with something, and even slipping into her. Realization flooded her. He was going to fuck her ass. She wasn't sure if she found that scary, or sexy.

Alan pulled her over so she was on top with her legs straddling his hips. Bob got behind her, and she felt him probing her hole back there. She'd seen him replace the condom, going from the ridged one he used with Alan to a slick one that he'd coated with something. Now she caught her breath when she felt his touch.

It was ... It didn't feel at all like she thought it would. She almost laughed. Sex didn't feel like she'd thought it would, either. This was ... different. It felt ... like nothing she'd done, and yet it was similar to the first time she'd ever done it. It was weird, but exciting, too.

She was so small down there, and she was so tense she just knew she couldn't loosen up in time. Then Alan slipped his finger between them and started diddling her clit. Bob pulled back, apparently disappointed.

Okay, this she could do. She liked being on top. Oh, she could come from the regular way, but now she could control the depth and angle as well. And the speed. She started moving, riding back on him, feeling her breasts sway and bounce. He captured them, squeezing and sucking, pinching the nipples with his lips, and sending jolts of pleasure through her.

That set off the fire. Her middle took on a life of its own, and she felt herself riding up that fiery slope. She closed her eyes, pushing down on him harder and harder. She wanted more, she wanted all of him inside her. He clung to her, holding her, letting her drive herself upward until there was that moment...

She came in one shuddering wave after another. She cried out, everything squeezing down to her channel. Finally it was over, and she slumped breathless on top of Alan, totally relaxed.

That's when Bob slid his cock into her back channel, filling her with one searing thrust.

Alan began thrusting, moving opposite Bob. She constantly had a cock sliding into her. She'd thought she was spent, but now it was too much. She'd once read that a woman could go from dormant to an orgasm in under a minute. This seemed like it only took seconds. And as the waves shook her, she could only think of all of that cock, gay as well as straight, that was filling her.

It lasted forever, and yet it didn't last long enough. Both men finally came—she was coming almost continuously—and everyone slowed to a stop. Bob pulled out and flopped to one side. Alan pushed her off—she cried wordlessly when she felt empty—and she settled between them. For a few minutes two strong pairs of arms held her and helped her come back to herself.

"That was like ... wow," she finally got out. She felt loose and wild, charged up, and totally exhausted. And so sore she wasn't sure she could pee, or if she could, how she could bear to touch herself to wipe up.

She finally staggered off the bed and grabbed her clothes. Bra, panties, too much trouble. She shoved them in her purse. Jeans—she wished she'd worn a skirt because she didn't want anything touching her between the legs—and tee-shirt. Her nipples were still hard, but maybe she could claim it was because of the cool night air. Her hair ... She brushed and tugged at it until it was more or less back under control.

She kissed both men on the cheek. They'd recovered and were now sucking each other. She shook her head politely when Alan offered her Bob's. "No thanks, got to get home. Maybe some other time."

She'd sucked both men off before. She'd wondered if Bob would react different than Alan, and had been pleased to discover that he might be gay, but he still loved a blow-job. But that had been the week before. Now she just wanted to get home, go up to her room, and collapse into bed.

She drove home in a daze, still turned on by the sex, but tired, too. Her mother was in the kitchen, and turned when Melanie came in. A frown crossed her face.

"No bra, and those low-rider jeans suggest you're not wearing any panties. What have I taught you?"

Melanie reflexively tugged them up. She'd pushed them down so the seam wouldn't touch her between the legs. She hadn't remembered that her mother had this preternatural sense of what she was wearing.

"Well, you don't, so why should I?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I do the laundry, remember? There were only two pair in there from you. And I know you don't wear pantyhose, so that means you aren't wearing any." She gave her mother an angry smile. "Like mother, like daughter."

Her mother's face went red, and she glanced at the door to the living room. "Let's take this upstairs," she finally said.

"No panty lines," Melanie said when they got to her room. She'd studied her mother's behind while they climbed the stairs. "I knew it."