Going, Going... - Cover

Going, Going...

Copyright© 2011 by Tomken

Chapter 9

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 9 - To save its children, an entire remote town pre-packs itself. Slow-motion extractions present issues not usually encountered. mm sex is brief and tame.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   mt/mt   Consensual   Science Fiction   Incest   Light Bond   Harem   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Squirting   Water Sports   Pregnancy   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Slow   Nudism  

As was his custom, Mike swung around to the school to collect his wife. He and Jean walked to work and back together every day, rain or shine. They always spent the time while they walked sharing with each other the events of the day. Somehow, both of them opted not to bring up the subject of Megan.

When they walked in the back door, they found Megan at the cutting board, wearing a cheerful smile, and nothing else. She put down her knife and moved to greet them with a warm hug. "I don't think..." Jean began, but was silenced as Megan placed her index finger on her mother's lips. She had done the same to her father.

"I spent the day today," said Megan solemnly, "sorting and organizing my thoughts and feelings. I realized that I have stumbled into the exact position I had dreamed of my entire life. Now, before I elaborate, you two deserve a cocktail, and a chance to change your clothes -- or not -- and then we can sit and visit. What would you care for to drink?" She withdrew her fingers and smiled at them brightly.

Jean and Mike looked at each other. "I think I'd like Scotch," said Mike, "with water."

"I'll have a glass of white wine, if you please," added Jean.

"I'll fetch 'em," said Megan, "and join you in the living room. Sound OK?"

Jean and Mike agreed. They headed off to the bedroom to change clothes. Soon they returned to find their drinks next to their favorite seats. Megan had parked herself on the sofa, wineglass in hand. Jean and Mike seated themselves, sampled their beverages, and turned to Megan with looks of bewilderment.

"Megan," said Mike, "I can't help it. You are an achingly hot chick." Megan's laugh was like ... Words failed him. He was enchanted, again.

"First," said Megan, looking down at her glass, "I'm sorry for last night. No, that's not right. I'm sorry I cried last night, because last night you gave me the one thing I had dreamed of for my whole life. Dreamed of, wished for, and feared I would never have. And, bang, you made my every dream come true.

"I thought, when you began, Mom, that you were going to tell me that you two were going to set up housekeeping together and that I damn well better find myself a sponsor, 'cause it wasn't gonna be you." Megan took her time, taking a sip from her wine, examining its contents. "I was devastated. I couldn't breathe. I've never had a nightmare so awful in my life as the one I had last night, awake, sitting with you.

"But then, after killing me, crushing my very soul, suddenly you gave me light! You gave me the most important thing in the world. You gave me the one thing I wanted more than any other, the one thing I was afraid I couldn't have." Tears were running freely again, unnoticed. "You gave me my family, Mom and Dad, you gave me my family for ever and ever. My joy was almost unbearable. But by then I was so emotional, so distraught, that I couldn't tell you. Thank you so much for sharing your bed with me last night. I couldn't have managed to be by myself all night, not in my condition."

"I think," Jean said quietly, "you meant to say 'our bed' and not 'your bed' Sweetheart. I'm pretty sure your Dad will not object?" He shook his head. "But I interrupted you, Megan. Go on, please."

"Mom, Dad, it isn't that I have always lusted after my father. I admit that I have thought about it, even more than a little bit. I never hoped my dad would father children on me. What I did hope, what I really need, is to be loved. Unconditional love. No fear, no suffering. Love. And I know that, in a pickup where the concubines have no power, if a woman finds a loving mate, it is the wildest of luck. A lightning strike. A hundred million dollar lottery win.

"Thank you so much for your gift. Thank you so much for the unconditional love, and caring and nurturing you have always given me, the love and caring and nurturing I know I will have for my whole life."

"And here I thought your delivery was spot on, Jean," Mike shook his head in sorrow. "Megan, we didn't mean to frighten you. We didn't mean to hurt you so deeply. Please forgive us."

"I know you didn't," said Megan. "I think it brought us all to the right spot. There is nothing to forgive. Would I forgive your loving concern?"

"I feel better," said Jean. "Now, what does that have to do with your birthday suit?"

Megan giggled. "I've known nearly my whole life that you two sleep nude. I do, too, maybe because you do. I'm comfortable in my own skin, but I have seldom had much chance to go naked. I decided today that I deserved a reward, so I got my birthday suit.

"The second reason has to do with a certain troublesome flap of skin I have. I think I may have been at least a little sexually active, but I never could find the right person to help me break that flap of skin. I thought maybe I'd be able to lure some helpless victim into helping me if I baited the trap properly.

"The third reason is ... well, all parents think brides are virgins, and all kids think their parents stop having sex when the last child is conceived. Now, the first part won't be true unless I get married awfully soon. I know damned well that the second part isn't true -- I know that you two have an active and happy sex life. But I had visions of us beating around the bush about what's in store for us, and I wanted to encourage some candor and honesty between us. If I'm gonna be your wife," she said, looking at Mike, "and YOUR wife," and she looked at Jean, "then I hope we will be able to talk and act freely with and around each other, and not hide."

"Well," said Jean with a chuckle, "as to the first reason, happy birthday suit. I must say you wear it well." They all laughed. "As for the second, I bet we can find an Army volunteer..."

"A NAVY volunteer, if you please!" interjected Mike with a grin.

"Yes," continued Jean, "a Navy volunteer to do the deed, perhaps next month."

"MOM!" shrieked Megan. They all laughed again.

"And, for the third reason," smiled Jean, "I say, in for a penny, in for a pound. You may as well hear our Grand Plan now as later. Maybe you'll find a flaw in our thinking, or add an excellent idea. As I said last night, your dad and I get six concubines. You are one of them. We have yet to decide whether you shall be my sex slave, or your father's sex slave. No matter, five more remain. Two of them must be mothers; more on that in a moment.

"One primary objective of Confederacy extractions is to increase our human population as rapidly as possible. We want to do our part by making absolutely sure that every woman of childbearing age in town who wants to go, does go. We wanted to wait until very near the end to see whether that has been handled while leaving us a slot. If he and I take all women, then your dad will have seven horny women in his bed. Well, maybe six horny women plus you," she winked. "He'll suffer through that if it otherwise means even one woman is left behind. If all of the women are accounted for and we have a vacant slot, we're thinking we should take a male student who tried with all he had to improve his CAP score, but failed. That would mean a family composed of six women and two men.

"We feel that the most vulnerable of the women are the youngest. We feel an obligation to do our part to put as many of them as we can in our loving home, and away from those who would abuse them. Your father is secretly a lecher, and can hardly contain his excitement at having barely-pubescent girls in his bed," and she winked at Mike. "So there will be two eighth graders or, if we don't take a boy, three eighth graders.

"Back to the mothers. We thought that young mothers would be more able to relate to you and to the younger concubines. Older mothers would want to look to me and to your father for adult company. We think that might not be a good idea. So, we're planning on taking young mothers. The selection criteria are generally that they have to have five years' experience, as with one five-year-old, or a three-year-old plus a two-year-old. They must have a minimum CAP score of 5.0 and strong maternal sub-scores.

"And that," she sighed, "is our plan, such as it is. Do you have thoughts? Questions?"

"I think you have done well," said Megan. "I can't think of a single thing I'd change."

"Thank you. Your father is entirely to blame," she smiled.

"In a pig's eye!" chuckled Mike.

"We both share the blame, I guess," she continued. "I'd like to shift the focus for a bit, if you don't mind." Both shook their heads. "I have need of your help, Megan, unless you have other plans for your day each day."

"Oh, good," Megan said. "I liked staying home and moping today, but that was enough of that. I'll gladly help you in any way I can."

"I hoped and rather expected you'd say that," smiled Jean. "Good. I would like you to come to school with me every day, to work at school and to use school as a base. First, I would like you to begin trolling for likely candidates to fill our own family. I don't know exactly how you go about doing that. You'll have to identify and evaluate mothers, teen girls and several candidates for a teen boy. It may be too early to start on the boys. You and I can talk about that tomorrow morning.

"Second, I would like to use you as something of a beater in a tiger hunt. We have a computer database we will be using to attempt to identify high-probability candidates for CAP enhancement training, to match sponsors and volunteers, and much more. Before the database can really shine, we need a scan of everybody's CAP card. The Confederacy supplied us with scanners that have been connected to our computers. Your job would be to track down the miscreants and arm-twist them into scanning their CAP card. If they don't scan their card, they aren't qualified to be extracted with us. They might complain, but they'll all go along. We have hundreds scanned in already.

"Third, I heard some disturbing information at school today. The girls have scared hell out of themselves thinking that they might get to the pickup as virgins. A lot of them have visions of the standard pickup circus, and they don't want to lose their cherries in the middle of an orgy. Some of them are really frightened. Many of them don't have an available male who is sympathetic and will be both gentle and discreet. Losing their cherries in front of the whole town in an orgy would be the worst, in their minds. Being branded sluts in school would be only a little less bad, and it would last a lot longer. I really don't know what I can do to help them, but I feel a strong obligation to do something."

"Ew, that is a disgusting thought," said Megan. "I'd be afraid too if I didn't have access to the biggest hunk in town!" They all laughed. "But seriously, I think it's a sure thing that many of those girls will begin making decisions they'll regret for a long time if they don't see any alternative. You heard about this today?" Jean nodded. "You're pretty well plugged into the grapevine at school, aren't you?" Jean nodded again. "I don't know what to do, either. Let's let our minds work on the problem for a while. I'd hate to see the cure be worse than the condition. But I do think you should push back through your grapevine that you are aware of the problem, and that an answer will come soon, so keep their mouths shut and don't do anything foolish. If the males get wind of the girls' sudden hunger, it would be bad."

Megan sighed. "You guys need another drink. I'll refresh your drinks. You can watch my butt when I walk out. When I get back, I wanna see how much hair you have in your crotches." With a giggle, she rose, collected their glasses, and retired to the kitchen.

While Megan was gone, her parents had complied and now sat completely nude. She set her dad's re-filled glass on the table beside him. "I see your arousal meter is approaching maximum, Dad," as she looked nearly straight down at the head of his cock, which was pointing up toward her. "Now I know how glad you are that you married a stone fox!" and she cocked her head toward her mother. All three laughed. Megan delivered Jean's glass and resumed her own seat. As she settled herself, she quipped, "I like the way you trimmed your bush, Mom." Jean blushed.

"And you had nothing to do with his condition, Young Lady?" Jean asked with a wry smile.

"She's got your good genes, Honey," Mike said.

"Looks fade," sighed Jean. "If anything, I can hope that I've aged well. As for your father, I suspect that he's lost in the thought of helping all those young maidens by deflowering them!" Mike's crimson blush gave lie to his vehement denial.

"I never tire of watching your mother reveal her assets," smiled Mike. "Faded, my foot. You've still got it, my love," and he went to her, collected a loving kiss, and returned to his seat.

Megan squealed, looking back and forth between her folks. "You get ... what's the word? You get augmented, don't you? So cool! I bet you like looking twenty years old better than you did the last time!" Turning to Jean, she squeaked, "We can be twins!"

"We'll see," Jean sighed.

"Think of it, Dad! The only way you can tell us apart is to see which one of us is lactating!"

Mike groaned and shuddered at the thought. The women chuckled.

"I've thought about it, Mom. I imagined suckling my baby at my breast, and suckling your baby at the other breast. I imagined the babies had their fill, and both of you drained my udders at the same time."

"That is pretty hot, Megan," her mother allowed, blushing. "Although your father will shout denials from the roof, I'm still thinking about the plight of those virgins. We need to find two or three for sure. Maybe they can learn about sex in the loving arms of your father. Maybe even more than the two we'll need."

"Oh, Mom," Megan whispered, "that is the most generous thing you've ever said. You aren't going to be jealous, are you, when Dad beds another woman?'

"Darling, I'm going to help him bed other women," Jean said with a blush.

Megan was nonplussed. "Now, we're getting some of the honesty I hoped for all day while I pranced around here naked. Dad, it isn't any shame to admit your attraction. I don't want to be ashamed if you say out loud you saw how slick my thighs are with my juices. I don't want not to be able to tell you my puss is throbbing in anticipation. I want to feel comfortable asking Mom if she's ever loved a woman."

"Maybe it's time to play doctor, Megan," said Mike. "Something like 'I'll show you mine, if you show me yours' kind of thing. But, while you'd share what you have done, you'll have to ask us what we haven't done."

"Bear this in mind, Honey," added Jean. "In this tiny town, there are far fewer secrets than most people will admit to themselves. John Doe cheating on his wife, or Jane Doe cheating on her husband, is pretty common. The culprits don't even try terribly hard to hide it, but it is so common that it doesn't get a lot of attention. People know, but they don't talk about it much. Everyone knows the lonely divorced women who'll go home with almost any man. Everyone knows the single mothers who are desperate for a dad for their children. Everyone knows which of the young girls are easy, and get passed from man to man.

"But, in this town, men don't cheat with another man. Women don't cheat with another woman. Wife-swapping is extremely dangerous. Single women who want to be able to hold their heads high are very careful about whom they share their beds with.

"So, whatever I may have done in college was put away when I came home. The same is true with your dad. We both appreciate the view occasionally. We even joke about it between ourselves sometimes. But we have never done anything we didn't want the whole town to know about."

At first, Megan was shocked but, as she weighed her mother's words, it made a lot of sense. "So you like women, Mom? You've done that before? You want to do it again?" Jean nodded. "You just told me you two don't fool around with anyone else in town. Do you have couples that don't live in town that you're particularly close to?"

"We used to," admitted Mike. "But we haven't seen them in years."

"Your turn, Megan," said Jean. "You've acknowledged your sex drive, and you're a virgin. How much have you experienced with a boy? Was your roommate good in your bed?"

Megan blushed, but told them, "I've been touched by boys, everywhere. I've seen and touched and even tasted some cocks. But I never took my panties off for a boy, or even let him taste me. I was afraid I'd lose control and hate myself forever. I have made love with my roommate, a few times. We both liked it, but she had a boyfriend who she preferred."

"Are you feeling naughty, Megan?" Jean asked. "Are you feeling nasty?" Megan nodded. "There's something that drives your dad mad with lust, but I will hardly ever do for him. He might even cum, without even touching himself."

Megan got a wicked grin. "Tell me, Mom," she softly said. "You'll like it, too, won't you?"

"Woman, you are evil," croaked Mike.

"Lean back in your seat," whispered Jean, "slide your hips forward, lock eyes with your father ... and jill yourself off."

Both Megan and Mike visibly shuddered. Wordlessly, Megan followed Jean's suggestions. She reached her hands nearly to her knees, and slowly, lightly pulled them up, up along the tops of her thighs, around her mound, up her abdomen, over her breasts, up her neck, across her ears, through her hair to the top of her head.

After a brief hesitation, she started down again, across her face, down her neck and chest between her breasts, down her abdomen, through her patch and directly over her slit. She extended her index fingers and, starting upward again, outlined her vagina until her fingers met over her clit. Down again, this time within her slit, her fingers pushing her lips outward. Down, until she reached the entrance to her body. Now she used two fingers on each hand to open herself. "Can you see my maidenhead?" she asked. Mike could only groan, a long, low moan coming from his throat. "Look at your cock, Daddy, can you see your baby's blood?" A sharp intake of his breath was his only response.

Upward again, through her thatch with index fingers, up and outward with her whole hands until she had cupped her breasts. She pressed them down, squeezed them, pressed them together with the heels of her curled-up hands, and released them as her hands continued upward and out to her shoulders. Back downward again, with extended index fingers moving between her breasts, and then outward, circling her breasts, round and round in ever tighter circles. Her fingertips climbed her mounds, ever inward, until she had reached her areolae. She ran her fingertips directly over her nipples again and again. She captured them between her thumbs and index fingers, rolling the nipples, pinching them, pulling them away from her body.

Sweat poured from Mike's face, a look of sheer lust on his visage. He had a death grip on the arms of his seat. His rigid pole stood at attention, a fountain of his pre-lubrication running down his shaft.

The Mona Lisa smile on Megan's face belied the pleasure her own body was delivering to her, the intense satisfaction she felt as the object of her father's aching lust.

Nipples released, her index fingers met in the valley between her breasts, then began their journey downward again. Down, through her thatch to its base, then around the perimeter of her hair until her index fingers met again at the top. Down through the thatch, and up, and down and up again.

Now her fingers parted again, the left heading upward toward her breasts ... The right moved down to pay attention to her clit, then down again. With two fingers, she scooped nectar and slowly brought her fingers to her face. She positioned her fingers beneath her nose and breathed deeply of her scent. Still with eyes locked onto her father's, she opened her mouth and pushed her fingers in, cleaning her essence from her fingers.

Her left hand had reached its target and was caressing her breasts. She let her right hand trail downward. It briefly lingered on her breast and then headed southward again. When she had passed her thatch, she captured her clit with thumb and finger, defining it between them, pulling it away from her, and squeezing it.

Megan's lust and arousal had brought a bloom of blush over her entire face and neck. The bloom extended nearly to the tops of her breasts. She had never been so excited. She felt the distant beginnings of the orgasm she knew was coming toward her like a freight train, an orgasm far stronger than any, any in her experience.

She withdrew her thumb from her clit and used her index finger to circle it, and pass directly over it, the pressure of her finger causing it to spring back when her finger had passed over the top. She jerked involuntarily, her first tiny orgasm causing her pussy to spasm.

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