Chapter 15
Thomas Scott Felton, the red-headed, spitting image of his proud and happy father, was six weeks old on the night of the great Felton family reunion. The reunion was not planned, in fact none of the participating families had any notion whatever that they were going to get together at that time, at that place, and do the things that they did.
It was spring again, and at 6:00 p.m. on this balmy, early April day, Vera Hayden breezed into Scott and Sylvia's living room, all sunshine and smiles. Now the once mousy and plain woman really lived up to Scott's first-night flattery-and then some. Her enormous, sparkling gray eyes were accentuated with dark mascara on the long, up-curling lashes, and lustrous, blue eye shadow. Her once short, neutral, lifeless hair was brushed, blown out, coiffed into a fluffy, light-reflecting halo of coppery brown. Her cupid's bow lips were painted a stark, wet red.
Before she met the Feltons, Vera didn't own a dress shorter than knee length, thinner than basic cotton, or more colorful than solid blues and browns. Her 32C tits had always been mashed flat by a bra, and her thirty-two-inch ass had always been pressed even flatter under a completely superfluous girdle. Now all her dresses and skirts were micro, she owned neither bra nor girdle, and when she wore panties at all, they were the briefest of G-string bikinis.
"Hi, darlings," she greeted Scott, who was sitting on a reclining chair, reading Hustler magazine, and sipping a drink; Sylvia, who was lying on a section of the couch buffing her nails; and Pat, who was lying on another section of the couch, her dress up around her waist, casually masturbating. "Don't stop what you're doing. I've only got a minute. I just dropped by to bite a couple of chunks out of my sweet, sweet grandson's fanny, then I'm off to my favorite singles bar to get picked up by a couple of long dicking studs. Where is he? Where is the king?"
"He's taking a nap in the nursery," Pat answered after they had all pleasantly greeted the tiny newcomer, "and if you wake him up, Vera, I'll bite your goddamn clit off. Fix yourself a drink and sit down. We haven't seen you for a couple of days-what's been happening?"
"Nothing really exciting," Vera said, going to the bar to pour herself a stiff one, and coming back to sit beside Pat "I picked up a darling young stud of eighteen the other day, and kept him in bed for thirty-six hours. I only let him up to go to the bathroom. You people opened my eyes to the truly good things in life, and I plan to spend the rest of my life catching up on all that I've missed."
"You can't catch up, Vera," Scott laughed, "you'll just have to be content with starting from where you are and not missing any new opportunities."
"Oh, yes I can," Vera giggled. "I'm starting from scratch and catching up, and it's working. The way I figure it, I wanted to start fucking at thirteen, and if my hot, little repressed mind had had anything to do with it, I would have fucked an average of three different guys a week that first year. I would have fucked one a day that second year, and one in the morning, one at noon, and one at night every day for every year thereafter."
"So how are you doing?" Sylvia asked, cracking up with laughter.
"Fine, fine," Vera answered, dead serious. "Since my liberation, exactly fifteen weeks ago, I've been fucked by eighty-five different men. If I can double my efforts every six months, I figure that by my seventy-fifth birthday I will have gotten all that is owed to me. Then I can settle down and fuck just for the fun of it."
"You're beautiful-beautiful, Vera," Scott said, joining in the burst of wild, happy laughter. "I'm so glad you came through for us."
"You're glad," Vera cried, "you're glad? What about me? I'm-I'm delirious. I wasn't even alive until I met you people. I'm glad to know that you still like me, though, because I was worried that I had put a damper on your own enthusiasm for getting it on. I haven't caught anybody actually fucking around here for the past dozen or so times I've come around. What happened? I thought all you people did was fuck."
"Oh, we fuck," Sylvia said with a lazy smile, "we fuck every single day-sometimes-more often than not-several times a day, but we do more than just fuck, Vera. Our lives are beautifully well rounded."
"Maybe I'll be able to get back into a balanced life one of these days," Vera said, "but not yet, I'm having too much fun. Check me out in about eighty years, and you'll probably find me reading books again. Uhhh-when will you be back in action, Pat?"
"Be back?" Pat laughed. "I hardly stopped. I was giving head two days after the baby was born, taking it in the ass after three weeks, and on the night that little Tommy was one month old, big Tom and I started fucking again. Why do you ask? Do you want to play some little girl games with me now?"
"Well, that wasn't why I asked," Vera said, scooting up on her knees, and gently removing Pat's fingers from her clit, "but it has been a long time since I've tasted this thing."
At that moment one of the twins was saying to Carla and Phil, "I still can't see why you have to leave now. We're still having fun-come on, you two, stick around awhile."
"We're still having fun, too," Carla said, standing in the middle of the Murden living room, bags packed and ready to go. "That's why we're splitting now-while it's still good-you'll be even more glad to see us when we get together again. I can't speak for Phil, but I'm in line for something new and different."
"Like what?" Roger asked.
"Ohhhh, I don't know," Carla answered. "I seem to have had it all, but now that you ask, I think I want a dirty-minded, foul-mouthed, freaky little female juvenile delinquent to raise. I don't want to ruin anybody morally-that would be too easy-I want her to be already precociously depraved, and I'll just keep her that way-make her more so."
The front doorbell rang, and Thea hurried to answer it.
"Janey!" she cried excitedly. "Girl, I hardly recognized you! You've changed-my God, but you've changed-come in-come in I"
Jan had changed. Her frizzy, blonde curls had grown out into a shoulder-length mass of thicker, shinier, longer curls. Since her baby was born, she had lost all of her baby fat and then some. She was now a curvaceous 36-22-36, with only her tits having grown bigger, while her waist and ass had receded. Her freckles, pug nose, and big, innocent eyes still made her look younger than her now sixteen years, but her entire bearing exuded a cynical, jaded decadence that was ageless.
"Only got a minute," Jan said, coming into the room and speculatively sizing up the small gathering. "I'm splitting this fucking town, and I just dropped in to say goodbye. I stopped off at your place and Uncle Chet and Aunt Marsha said you two were over here. They told me about your marriage-Congrats."
"Thank you," Thea said, "but where are you going-and why?"
"Where? Don't know, and don't really care-wherever the fucking and sucking is plentiful and hassle free. Hope I'm not shocking your new inlaws, but you asked, and I'm answering you. Why am I cutting out? Because for awhile there my family was my kind of people, fucking like crazy, and everybody having a ball. Now they've fallen back into their old hypocritical, bullshit bags. Dad split, Mom married Brock, and you'd think they were the original Joseph and Mary the way they frown on my getting fucked. So I say, fuck 'em-who needs 'em?"
"How would you like to come with us, dear?" Carla asked breathlessly, unable to believe that the very thing she had planned to go searching for had just walked in the front door.
"If coming with you means coming with you, right on-count me in," Jan grinned, licking her lips as she seemed to really see the beautiful woman for the first time. "Ill come with you, him, and all of your friends and relatives. He is included, isn't he?" she asked, nodding in Phil's direction. "He looks like my kind of people-freaky-like he'd fuck a snake if somebody held its head."
"He's included," Carla confirmed, "and we're both ready to go and start coming now, if you are.
"Yes, I'm ready," Pat said, "but I'm not leaving this town without saying goodbye to Uncle Scott and Aunt Sylvia. Those two are my favorite relatives, including my immediate family."
"I'm going with you," Susan said. "I haven't seen those two since Dad ordered us away from them a couple of years ago. Come on guys-let's all go-you'll love Scott and Sylvia-and hey, we're married ladies now-mothers yet-maybe they'll drop their age of consent restrictions, and give us some action, Thea."
"Well, what a pleasant surprise," Sylvia cried as her in-laws stood grinning at her m the open front doorway. "Come in-come in-Scott, look who's herel"
Warm, wet, tonguing kisses, initiated by the newcomers, were exchanged, and the instant erections that rose in the pants of the two handsome brothers let them all know that this surprise visit was going to turn out just fine.
"Where are our girls and the Murdens?" Chet asked, still holding Sylvia close, caressing her voluptuous body. "Aren't they here yet?"
"No-are they supposed to be coming?" Sylvia asked.
"Well, I guess," Chet said. "Pat came by to say goodbye, because she's leaving tonight. She said she was going to the Murdens to say goodbye to our girls, then she was coming to say goodbye to you. We figured they'd all come, since you two were once such great friends of the Murdens. We thought of the infinite possibilities of the situation, and rushed right over to see if we were still welcome."
"Of course, you're still welcome-always will be," Sylvia said as they walked, arms around each other, deeper into the barn-sized living room.
Both Chet and Marsha stopped and stared in wide-eyed puzzlement at the scene that was being played on a section of the huge, circular couch. They had heard that Pat had lost her mind, but neither of them thought that she was this bad off.
Pat was lying naked, with her legs high in the air, and her thighs spread as far apart as they would go. Tom was kneeling on the couch before her, humping away as though he were fucking for dear life, and Pat was moaning, groaning, yelping happily, as though the tall, young man's cock were bouncing off her womb with every powerful in-stroke.
"That boy has either got a four-foot-long cock, or somebody is as crazy as all shit in this house," Chet said to himself, glancing at his equally puzzled wife with raised eyebrows.
"Ohhh-do it to meeee-do it-do it-do it!" Pat cried. "I'm almost there-m-make me c-comeeemake meeeee!"
"Aren't they beautiful?" Sylvia asked, noting the avid, almost hypnotized interest of Chet and Marsha. "I can almost come just watching them."
"Uhhh-y-yeah I-uhh-guess," Chet said, "b-but what exactly are they doing? Uhh-why isn't he fucking her for real?"
"Fucking her for real?" Scott asked, as puzzled as his brother. "What the fuck do you call for real? He's got that big cock of his in her to the balls. The amazing thing is how that tiny, little thing can take it."
"There's three-four feet between those two," Scott said, "I'm not crazy-tell me how. . ."
"Oh, they can't see Vera," Sylvia cried, doubling over with laughter. "S-she's so tiny-th-they can't-even see her."
Almost running to the couch to get a closer look, Chet and Marsha themselves roared with laughter to see Vera wedged between her long, rangy son and her fabulously stacked daughter-in-law. Vera's face was lost between Pat's strained open thighs, her mouth was glued to the young girl's open cunt. She was on her knees, with her ass hiked up against her son's belly, as he arrowed his long, thick cock like a maniac into her filled to bursting cunt
Since all three of them had been on the verge of coming when Chet and Marsha walked in, in a moment Tom pulled his slowly softening cock out of his mother's come-flooded vulva, Vera gave one last, loving lick at Pat's still spasming cunt and introductions were made.
"We're awfully glad to see you two again," Scott said, after drinks were served, and they were all seated. "What's this about the Murdensdid you mean Carla and Phil? Are they back in town? It's none of my business, but what would your girls be doing at the Murdens?"
"Oh, that's right, you guys didn't know--couldn't know--we lucked out-oh God, did we ever luck out with our girls-but that's all it was, pure, sweet luck. The Murden twins-Roy and Roger-came back to town, and would you believe it, they got both Thea and Susan pregnant, fell head over heels in love with them, and married them-not necessarily in that order.
"Both of the girls had boys, too. Can you imagine the irony of the situation-the shit that we went through? You and Syl were absolutely right-God, what a fucked up situation this turned into for Carl, and almost turned into for us. And now we could care less about the Scottish estate; the girls married into much more money than any of us will ever spend. Carl got the shitty end of the stick, but he asked for it. I couldn't work up a case of sympathy for him if I tried."
"Shitty end of the stick-sympathy? What are you talking about?" Scott asked. "He got the estate, didn't he, and that's what started all this shit."
"Didn't you know? Carl didn't get anything," Marsha put in; "his trick didn't work. He gave both girls something to make them have their babies early, and Liz's boy was stillborn. They got it to breathing with electric shocks and machinery, and when Carl saw that, he ran to the phone to spread the news. By the time he got back, they had already stopped trying, and they listed the baby the only way they could-stillborn. Jan had a girl that lived, and Betty had a miscarriage, also in her seventh month, after taking some of that same shit that Carl made the girls take."
"Well, I'll be a sonofabitch," Scott said, glancing at Sylvia and Pat to see if they caught the significance of this revelation-they both had.
"Carl just packed up and left town after signing the divorce papers," Marsha went on, "and he hasn't been heard from since. Liz fell in love with one of the dudes who helped to knock them all up, and they're living together now. Betty married Brock, and without Carl there to fuck things up, Brock is making a go of their import-export business. Jan didn't like the idea of having her sex monitored and restricted, so she left her baby with Betty and split tonight-and that's the whole story in a nutshell."
"Well, I hope they all come by," Scott said, getting up and beginning to undress, "but whether they do or don't, why don't we-uhhh-get undressed and see what comes up."
Sylvia had neglected to lock the door after letting Chet and Marsha in, and when Pat and the six Murdens burst in without even ringing a few minutes later, everybody already present was tangled in a fucking, sucking pile of raw, naked sex.
The newcomers joined the orgy with wild, lusty enthusiasm, grabbing cock and cunt where they could find it, introducing themselves as they went along, laughing, talking, fucking, sucking, having the time of their lives. Phil and the twins couldn't seem to get enough of Vera-and vice versa. Carla, Sylvia, and Scott seemed to favor Pat. Tom was engrossed in trying to decide whether fucking Thea was as good as sucking Susan, and he happily repeated the test over and over again to be sure, reversing the roles of the girls to further confuse him.
Sometime later the loudly squalling voice of Pat's baby caused her to snatch her milk-squirting tit out of somebody's sucking mouth, push a female mouth away from her streaming cunt, and bump a pile-driving cock out of her gyrating ass.
Marsha, who had been sucking Pat's cunt, raised her head, and wiped her mouth to ask, "Whose baby is that crying?"
"Mine," Pat answered proudly, as she left the room to feed him. "That's the voice of Mr. Thomas Scott Felton, the richest little red-headed bastard in America, calling for his titty!"