Chapter 14

Bob fairly wallowed in the bed as two lusty nymphs writhed against and on top of him. He had been kissing lips and sucking nipples and stroking pussies for half an hour, and both girls were dripping wet.

Tiffany happened to be on top of him, rubbing her pussy against his erection when she stopped.

"Should I?" she asked, looking at her best friend.

"Do you want to?"

The girl only nodded rapidly. "Can I?"

"Ask him," said Judith, who didn't have much of a track record for asking, herself.

"But he's yours," she said. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I could never be mad at you," said Judith. "I want you to be as happy as I am."

Now Tiffany looked at the man beneath her. "Were you telling me the truth?"

"About wanting you?" he asked. "You're sitting on top of the answer, Tiff."

"That could be for Judith," she said.

"It could be for both of you," he replied.

She leaned down and kissed him yet again. "Thank you," she said, softly.

"My pleasure," he said. "Trust me on that."

She tried to do what Monica had done, but even though it caught in her opening, it didn't pop inside.

"Something's wrong," she whimpered. "It won't go in."

"Be patient," he said. "It's your first time. That can be rough."

"It doesn't hurt," she said. "It just won't go in!"

"Let me help," said Judith.

She had Tiffany rise and then held her father's prick straight up. As Tiffany lowered her body, Judith positioned it.

It bent as she went lower.

She was moaning in frustration as Bob reached to grip himself, leaving only a couple of inches exposed outside his fist.

"Ooo!" gasped Tiffany as those two inches popped inside her. "Now it hurts."

But she didn't complain. Instead, Judith helped her rise off of it, and then sink down again, doing that several times until, about the fourth time of taking him into her, Bob removed his hand and she sank a good four inches.

"Ohhh damn," she groaned. "It didn't look this hard!"

"You'll get used to it," said Bob. "Just take your time."

Five minutes later Tiffany's bottom touched his thighs and she let her full weight down.

"Oh wow," she groaned. "Is it all the way in me?"

"You got the whole thing," he said.

"This isn't so bad," she panted. "It doesn't hurt any more. I just feel really full. I think I'm going to like this."

"Just wait until he moves it around in you," whispered Judith.

Janice had, more than once over the years, worried about the possibility that she might, down deep, be a slut.

It wasn't that she engaged in casual sex as often as possible. St. Clementine's saw to that. But she remembered vividly the anticipation of knowing she was going to get to be alone with her Uncle Jerry, back when she was only fourteen tender years of age, and the spine tingling excitement of also anticipating what she would get to do with Uncle Jerry when he got her alone.

Back then, that had happened only about twice a month. Janice's dad was an airline pilot on a major carrier, and he was gone more often than he was home. But Uncle Jerry was there to teach her how to ride a bike, climb a tree, throw a baseball, and other things like that that a father is often engaged in with his daughter.

Of course he told her what a great job she was doing, and complimented her, so by the time she was twelve he was already her favorite uncle, not to mention one of the top male influences in her life. In years to come she would look back on things he had done and recognize he had been grooming her for the wild sexual affair they eventually had. Such as when, during swimming lessons, he supported her with one hand across her thighs and the other across her chest. When he squeezed a flat, but sensitive breast and apologized, she said "That's okay." So he did that some more. When he supported her as she climbed a tree, with his hand on her butt and his fingers pressing against what her mother called her "binky", the same thing happened. He apologized and she said "That's okay."

So by the time she was fourteen, having her uncle's hands all over her body, casually touching her was something she thought of as completely normal.

Then there had been sex ed class at school, and the questions she had that she couldn't ask anyone except Uncle Jerry about. He was happy to answer them. Sometimes he used his own body as a training aid ... and sometimes he used hers. And when she settled down on top of him that very first time, as her young pussy was filled with hot meat, she had known that this was something she was going to try to do again and again, and as often as possible.

Uncle Jerry had explained that a woman has needs, and he had simply volunteered to help her take care of hers. What she didn't know was that he was also taking care of her mother's needs, while her father was on those long overseas flights.

That was, in fact, how Janice and Uncle Jerry got caught. Uncle Jerry wore English Leather. And when a man wearing English Leather rolls around and gets sweaty with a woman, some of that scent gets off on her. It also gets on the sheets they are rolling around and getting sweaty on.

On laundry day, while Trudy Moeller was washing sheets, she took her own set and pulled them to her nose, inhaling deeply because she knew what they'd smell like. They'd smell like the delicious sex she and Jerry engaged in on those sheets.

But then, when she dipped into Janice's hamper to get her sheets to wash, and pulled them up and out into the air ... she got a whiff of the same scent.

Trudy wasn't stupid. She knew this had to be happening while she was at work. And it had to be after Janice got home from school. That was only a two hour window.

So over the next two weeks, when she went on break during that two hour window, she also drove past the cul-de-sac where they lived. When she saw Jerry's car parked at the house she pulled over and walked past her three neighbor's houses to the north. The front door wasn't even locked.

She found them in Janice's room, playing "Cowgirl and the bucking bronco."

Cowgirl had always been Janice's favorite position. A psychiatrist might have suggested that was because she was in that position the first time Uncle Jerry's prong slid up inside her, or that it gave her a feeling of control over the situation.

Years later, when it came to Tank, however, Cowgirl was simply the most pragmatic way to get his eight inch impossibly thick dick inside her without being crushed.

There are two common types of orgasms most women can enjoy. One is caused by stimulation of the clitoris, the other by stimulation of the tissues of the vaginal walls. In Janice's case, all her orgasms had, thus far, been clitoral ones, with the possible exception of what she'd experienced with BD in the shower room. But that had happened so quickly and tumultuously that it was hard for her to remember the details.

But when she slowly settled on the prick that was twice as large, overall, as Uncle Jerry's, she learned how to enjoy the other kind. She didn't even have to move. The pressure itself started the process, as she sat there, her back ramrod stiff, letting her pussy get used to being stretched so deliciously that she wanted to giggle hysterically. Then muscles she hadn't used in four years provided all the motion that was needed. The added stimulus of Tank's sausage shaped fingers reaching to massage her nipples sent her flying off the cliff, out into space where she closed her eyes and soared on wings of ecstasy that caused tears to roll down her cheeks.

"Am I hurting you?" came Tank's concerned, high-pitched voice.

"Oh no," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I think I love you, Tank."

Then, as that orgasm seeped out of her almost gently, she opened her eyes and looked down at the huge hulking body of a man most other men feared ... and set out to make him her slave.

Ten minutes later, her pussy running with streams of Tank's semen, she flopped onto her back and spread her legs wide, reaching for the other huge, hulking man in the room.

"I need you, BD," she panted.

"Ohhh fuck me to tears," he moaned, crawling up over her.

"No," she said. "Fuck me to tears."

Tiffany's slim, athletic body was perfectly adapted for bouncing up and down on Bob's rigid penis. She was laughing now as her natural instincts caused her to vary her body's posture, experimenting, finding the best possible way to rub against that delicious penis she would never forget.

"You need to get off, baby," panted her lover.

"No!" she laughed. Why on earth would she want to do that? She never wanted to stop!

"I'm going to cum," he warned.

"No!" she yipped again, not because she was worried about the danger of getting his sperm inside her, but because if he spurted, he'd go soft, and that would be a tragedy.

"Judith!" gasped Bob, looking for an ally.

But Judith got down with her lips right in his ear and whispered "Let her feel it just this once."

The expletive he uttered was drawn out in what sounded like agony as his hips came up off the sheet and his prick belched inside the beautiful young girl bouncing on top of him.

"Oooooo," laughed Tiffany as she felt the ball of heat explode deep inside her. She was at once sad, because she knew he'd go soft now. But the luscious feeling of her lover giving her some of his very own body compensated for that. Tiffany was in love. She'd had a crush on this man for years. But now she was in love.

Reluctantly, she accepted the fact that she was exhausted. She had been bouncing wildly for almost fifteen minutes, and she felt like she'd just run four laps around the track at school at top speed. The flat, clean, soft sheets beside Bob looked inviting as she leaned, extended a leg and rolled, wincing at the buildup of lactic acid in her thighs and hips that she hadn't noticed before.

Instinct caused her to reach to press her pussy lips together, to prevent the loss of what her lover had given her.

Beside her, Bob groaned as his daughter sucked his half hard prick into her mouth and lovingly cleaned it of the mixture of his spend and her best friend's juices.

"I should go check on the girls," sighed Francine.

"The girls are fine. You should stay here with me. I'm almost hard again," said Brady.