Chapter 8
A disturbed Director of Graduate Studies at Merriweather Hospital sat pensive in his office, his back to his desk, staring out the picture window at the parking lot.
Henderson Windham was only vaguely conscious of the small army of girls in white uniforms hurrying for their cars as the shifts changed. Since the week before last he had seen virtually nothing of the goings on around him in grad school or hospital. Not since the blow-up at home with his wife.
"Hell with it!" grunted Hen, spinning his high back executive leather away from the window to confront the piles of unattended correspondence stacked neatly dead center on-his desk. His secretary had labeled the stacks "Priority", "Important" and the third, "Desperate." He grunted unappreciatively at the humor. It sounded like a commentary on his decision to divorce his wife of twenty-five years. Brunhilda was a bitch, ice cold and merciless, and she always would be. The divorce was already in motion.
He ran nervous fingers through his prematurely white hair and wondered how much of his decision had been provoked by what he had watched of the ways of another woman. Would she still be in her room in the lab? He pushed from his desk and walked to his bathroom. It was just after four and she was usually there in Room 5 till four-thirty.
"Kitty Carr, you're something else," he murmured aloud, studying his image in the mirror. "Got Mister Respectable about to make a total jackass of himself."
His relationship to Kitty had taken a sudden unexpected turn the day she had had the change of heart, or the misunderstanding, or whatever it was with that kid brother of hers. Henderson had been at his voyeur post in the room adjacent to 5, watching another mini-orgy unfold between Dennis and Kitty.
For weeks their play had been going on, till the past Tuesday when Denny arrived promptly as usual at three to find a different Kitty waiting for him.
It was obvious to Henderson that she was preoccupied and that something was wrong, in the moments he stood on the viewing side of the see-through glass and watched her working. Usually she would peel her street clothes down to bra and panties and slip into the lab smock preparatory to going to her lab stool. The experiments she had set up around the microscope for the afternoon's work kept her busy till the musical chime at the door of her room announced the arrival of her brother.
Hen had been enthralled at the passionate play between the two and the determination by Kitty to always collect her semen specimen at each of Denny's orgasms wherever the play was. In fact the director was so caught up in the action as the unseen spectator that he had announced to his secretary that for an indefinite time she'd be taking late lunch, likely from two-fifty to four. She seemed to buy his excuse about volleyball at the "Y" and the wing where Kitty worked was offset from the main building, so the deception appeared to be successful. After he'd blown his stack at Brunhilda and left home, the fun and games Kitty invented had been impossible to stay away from for the grad school director.
The hardest decision Henderson had made was not to take his own visits to the cock-maddening female beyond the stage he'd established in their first encounters. He knew she dug him as a male and not as the director of studies. He knew from her performance with Denny, till the last meeting, that he could easily seduce her.
Something held him back. Even though she had been intimate with her brother unnumbered times, unaware of her one man audience, Hen was far from convinced that she was a nymph to whom sex was cheap. There was something about Kitty that always remained a lady. Even when she was wrapped in illicit sex action, involved in what ninety-nine percent of his hospital staff would condemn, there was something very self-assured and purposeful in her abandon. With his separation from Brunhilda, Hen had been a captive to this girl more than half his age. That too had prevented his making any overtures to her beyond their already somewhat bizarre relationship.
So twice a week he slipped into Room 5 to make his "donation" as she called it, to her studies in sperm motility. It was the high-watermark of his week. She would slip from her smock and pose prettily before him, cooing praise for his impressive size and holding the test tube daintily till he gasped his orgasm's arrival. That he would let himself go enough to masturbate before her was a thrill to Kitty and a constant surprise to Hen. She was genuine in her admiration and she was generous in her appreciation, just as she had been that first time.
"Call it a kind of secondary test," she apologized when she had asked for permission to perform fellatio on his second trip to her lab and established it as part of every visit thereafter. "I've heard of virile men in their fifties, but for you to be able to masturbate and keep your erection till I suck you is just phenomenal!"
He had never told her that it was the more phenomenal since usually before his bi-weekly visit for the "donation" he had masturbated himself in the viewing room that same day.
A man his age able to fire off three blasts a day was kind of special. Hen preened himself smugly before his bathroom mirror, readying for his first surprise visit to Kitty. He hadn't been able to shake her dismissal of her brother Denny. It had been a curt break-off, almost cruel. When Denny had arrived, he'd gone through the usual motions of sweeping up her lab, then dropped onto the day bed to rest till she was ready.
"Let's not," she'd murmured when Denny, impatient that she was taking so long, had sidled over and pressed his excitement against her back while she huddled over her microscope.
"Huh?" The fourteen-year-old was clearly shaken. "What's 'let's not' mean?"
"It means I think we shouldn't do this any more, so why don't you run along?" The moisture in her eye was never noticed by a shaken adolescent who looked as if he'd been slapped with a wet towel when he rushed from Room 5.
The episode had needled at Henderson Windham for the past twenty-four hours and her vasdy defeated air when he stole in again for surreptitious study through the see-through mirror, warned him he was about to lose his most interesting grad student ever. In fact, he had long since ceased considering her one of the students at Merriweather-she had become someone special.
Now he hurried down the long tiled hall to the grad wing and went directly to her door. No time for a check via the "observation room to see what she was doing; his mind was made up; he had decided on a new course. There was no answer to his knock and none to his call. She had gone. It was another rum. Probably a bad one. Kitty always kept a precise schedule. Wondering if he'd missed the opportunity of his life, Hen wandered dejectedly out to the hospital parking lot to his car. A round of golf wasn't anything to what he had in mind, but it would help him forget, he reasoned.
The house was very quiet when Kitty reached home. Whenever the men were gone there always seemed a strange kind of silence around the house and it was knowing they were gone that brought her home early from the hospital. Daddy and Denny had gone to cheer Barry at the finals at Seton Hall. There'd be no one except herself and Mommy till after midnight. It was the way Kitty wanted it.
She had created a monstrous desire in three men and now one knew about the other two. Her own mother hadn't the slightest clue about any of the liaisons and when Dixil learned, Kitty had no doubt she would be on the street and long-gone out of the family. The trouble was not only with the mounting heat of the men, it was the sudden discovery by Kitty herself that she wanted out of the orgy play she had started.
Not that she didn't love it; perhaps, she thought, she loved it too much and yet had come to the inescapable. A catastrophe was nearing. Sooner or later one of the three, and they each wanted her every day at least once, was going to slip up and give away the intimacy. But it was more than just that she might get caught. Kitty knew what she had set in motion was worse.
In the TV den only last night she had been alone watching the rerun of an old black and white soap, but the bad movie hadn't kept first Denny, then Daddy and finally Barry from joining her. Glances from time to time confirmed what she suspected. Every one of the three was watching her and the vibes in the den were sexy and ready. Her great seduction was drawing closer and closer to the ultimate crisis. All three were in semi or full erection constantly under cover, but visible. It decided her.
"That you, Kitty?''
"It's me. Just came back early. Wanted to nap."
She hurried to her room, not up for chit chat. Stripping, she tumbled into bed, hoping her closed door would discourage a visit. It did. Dixil got the message and while her curiosity was almost uncontrollable, she respected whatever was bugging her strange daughter who had for a time bloomed from the compliments and the conversations the three males in the family directed her way, but who now seemed to be retrogressing to the way she was when she first came home.
Several hours later Dixil called softly from the foot of the stairwell that supper was ready. No answer. With the men away for the evening, the hours ahead seemed dull beyond bearing to a frustrated Dixil. Even the Dewars was a bore of an escape from the reality that things were going badly in the Carr family. At eight Dixil headed for the master bedroom to spend an evening that looked impossibly long watching the tube.
It was a very timid knock. Scarcely audible. For a minute Dixil thought it was a sound on the television. Then it was repeated.
"Come in."
"Mommy, can we talk?" Her eyes were wet and red and it was plain Kitty had reached a turning point "I've been an awful bitch."
"Baby ..." Dixil's arms reached to catch the trembling form and cupped Kitty close. "You could never be that! Don't ever even say it . . . you're a lady."
"Will you listen? I just know you're going to kill me and that's okay, too...."
Dixil's eyes were dark, angry circles and she pressed impatient fingertips to stop her daughter's words. "I want you to tell me everything you want to. But before you do, I'm going to tell you something. I think I know some of what it's about. I've watched Daddy and I've watched Barry and I've watched Denny when they look at you. I think I know some things another woman can tell ... but I want you to tell me ... then we'll talk about what we want to do about it"
Stewart Carr glanced in surprise at the second floor while he waited for Denny to open the garage door. For the master bedroom to be showing a light after midnight was unusual and for Kitty's window farther down the second floor back to be darkened was even more unusual. Dixil awake and Kitty sacked already? It was going to be a different pattern for the night. If his wife was sober that could be pleasant, too, he reasoned, hearing Barry's continuing chatter at his side, even as he plotted potentials for his night sex.
New state champ in his weight lifting class, Barry was exuberant over his victory and equally depressed over the blacked-out window in Kitty's bedroom. No likely visit tonight, he thought. The garage door closed behind three radically different moods as the males went their separate ways muttering "goodnight" as they parted.
Dennis, still smarting over his sister's rejection at Merriweather, headed disconsolately to bed to quiet what had been a powerful build-up of sexual need unmet for the first day in weeks. Barry, hoping his sister would make her nightly trip to visit him, hurried to his room.
Stew lingered over a nightcap for fifteen minutes before following his sons, torn between a stop at Kitty's room and a curiosity about Dixil's changed pattern. After a second stiff drink kept him in dilemma, he opted for the master bedroom, never imagining the girls had already set in motion a plan to bring all that had tilted the Carr family off on separate sexual capers into one room for one collision encounter.
Stew saw the light shining from under the door go out as he reached the top stair and started down the hall. At least it meant that Dixil was awake and probably had heard him trying to tiptoe on the creaky steps. He passed Kitty's door without slowing, his eye on the torn paper tacked to the master bedroom door.
Squinting in the dim hall light, he read the odd message: "Stew darling: we girls are cuddling. For old times' sake, why don't you collect the boys and come join us? Dixie."
"Dixie?" he mused aloud, puzzled by the strange quickening he felt in his loins. Why did his wife sign "Dixie" not Dixil, he wondered, reaching for the doorknob, then hesitating at the intense silence beyond the closed door. Dixil wasn't one to play jokes; it had to have serious purpose.
Perhaps, he decided, turning back down the hall to go for Dennis and Barry, it was a mommy's way of rejuvenating old times when the five of them used to cuddle in the same bed. But that was ten years ago and light-years before his relationship with Kitty had changed everything.
Two wide-awake, puzzled but willing sons trailed their father to the master bedroom, Barry cinching his pajama shorts at the waist and Dennis wishing his father had knocked before coming for him. He'd been caught in high gear with his self-play, but Stew seemed not to notice.
Now, pausing at the door, Stew felt slightly more than foolish as he tapped lightly for admission to his own room. But it was that kind of twisted-around mess. When a distant giggle answered his knock, he felt a storm of relief. Whatever, it wasn't the disaster he'd braced for.
They lay together in the middle of the bed watching the three approach across the room. In the filtering moonlight shining across the crimson satin spread of the unopened bed, their bodies were devastatingly sexual. At the entry of the men, Dixil and Kitty had disengaged from their embrace and lay in glorious wanton display of their torrid nudity. That she was mother to two of the males coming toward her was clearly of no consideration to Dixil.
"For old times, Stewart," she cooed to her husband, "you and the boys come join us. But you have to be like we are and get out of your things."
"Sure, doll. C'mon, boys."
A storm of mixed passions ripped at Stew as he peeled shirt and slacks. No trying to read Dixil this time, he concluded, thankful the shock had kept his cock subdued and quiescent and feeling sorry for Barry and Dennis that the sight on the bed had driven them both to instant total erections. What could have happened to impel Dixil to such a dramatic step? Surely no confession from Kitty; that would have provoked murder. His.
He could never have been more wrong. Dixil, determined to save her home and help her mixed-up family find itself again, had determined dramatic sex-shock was the only way.
"Denny, you get over beside your sister, and Barry, you come over beside me. We'll let Daddy fit in anywhere he can." She motioned imperiously to Barry who hesitated, then tumbled in beside her. She grabbed in pretended amazement at his jutting phallus nudging her rear. "What in the world, Kitty, will you look at the size of this man?"
"I've got one almost as big," responded the not-so-sure Kitty, awed by the way her mother had taken the confession and completely submissive to the daring shocker Dixil had planned in the hours before the men got home.
"You'd think these were the only way in the world girls get happy, the way men keep advertisin', wouldn't you?" demanded Dixil, scrunching toward the center of the bed. "Let's show 'em our favorite way," she said, voice low and sultry as she pushed to an elbow to stare down at the stacked golden-skinned perfection of her daughter. Lightheaded with the daring and with anticipation of more of what Kitty had led her to relish without shame during the hours before midnight, Dixil leaned across the animated fullness of her daughter's boob. In the moonlight, the white where the halter of her bikini covered when Kitty suntanned was ivory perfection accenting twin hillocks of sheer maddening female flesh, dotted in the center with turgid cones.
"My God, Dixil . . . don't!" croaked Stew as he saw his wife writhe across the outspread wonder of their daughter.
"Why not, Stew? And by the way, Kitty calls me 'Dixie.' I like it better than Dixil, but Stew baby, what's wrong? You want to trade places with me . . . right? But that's not what we two meant by 'old times,' dear."
The bombshell went off inside the man's head. His wife KNEW! She knew he had been intimate with Kitty ... yet she even allowed him in the room after ... after incest!
"Or maybe the boys would rather trade ... right, Barry ...? right, Denny? You've been here." She turned contemptuously away from the three of them. "But now ... it's my turn!"
Stew felt his world blast into a thousand crazy pieces as he tried to absorb that last and saw the expressions on the faces of Barry and Dennis confirm it all.
"It's my turn first, then it's family smorgasbord. You can all pick and take it your way." She jerked impatiently away from her husband's attempt to embrace her and Stew recoiled as if struck, crawling to the far side of the bed, watching the incredible spectacle unfold.
Two sizzling voluptuous bodies in the middle of the bed groping for each other; two youthful, uproariously aroused males stretched directly behind each of the females, uncomprehending the implications of their mother's words, but knowing by her actions they were wanted near.
Barry and Dennis had both worshipped Kitty from afar and her dazzling non-maternal figure had been an enticing no-no for both for years. Now they were invited near to watch her own appetite for another female! With what their sister had led them to discover about heterosexuality it was almost unbearable.
Dixil grabbed for arms that seemed to be waiting and quickly pinioned Kitty against the bedspread, all her wriggling perfection on bared display. With an impatient cry she spread her captive's arms to either side, then drove her shapely legs far apart with a not-too-gentle kneeing action. It was supremely disturbing to the men to see their fantastically tantalizing femaleness, to watch women preoccupied with each other.
Impossible for any one of the three not to go harder than ever he had been before at the sight of Dixil hovered in mock victory over the body of her daughter, poised and ready to stroke, while Kitty lay outstretched and waiting in surrender.
"I am going to allow one thing," said Dixil in slow, even tones. "While we girls play, you boys, but not you, Stew, can do whatever men like to do most with women's bodies." Then, apparently blanking the males from further conversation, she twisted, lowering herself slowly till her body was touching Kitty's ever-so-lightly.
Rotating her shoulders and hips, she let her rich boobs brush tantalizingly across Kitty's jutting breasts, moving in rhythmic torture of the girl's front, taut nipples rubbing against even harder nipples, then pressing together. Before the eyes of the dumbfounded males, the female curves meshed, titty grinding against titty and pubic mound against pubic mound.
Kitty moaned helplessly as she' felt her mother shift position and begin to kiss and tongue-love her way across her heaving breasts down her midriff and over her trembling tummy plateau.
"Kitty, darling ... this is your Dixie ..." cooed Dixil when she reached the frantically quivering cunty cleft. "Our men think we need them. I don't, do you? All they know is cocks for exciting girls. Let's show 'em the truth ..
The girl beneath her was pleading, "... tongue me! Suck my clitty! I'm going out of my skull!"
The enthralled spectators watched Kitty's body arch in a deep trembling curve as Dixil speared a moist, stiffened tongue far into the recesses of her passion pit. If there had been any doubt before, it was clear by her shriek of orgasm that all pretense was gone. Kitty and Dixil, too, fired by the spasms racking their bodies, were gripped in overpowering simultaneous climax.
With a flurry of golden arms and shapely legs, the pair rolled and struggled in the center of the bed, out of control with excitement for each other, each forcing her playmate to bend in wild contortion and offer her pussy-flesh to grateful lips. The stunned males gawked at the curvaceous, struggling girl-flesh and saw ruby lips burrowing and dark hair bouncing as Kitty assaulted her target with little squeals of "Dixie, I love you ..." while platinum-silver tresses bounced across Dixil's smoothly turned shoulders as she burrowed deeply between Kitty's legs.
"Oh, God! I gotta!" yelped Barry when the runaway orgasms that claimed the two females subsided briefly and Kitty and Dixil surfaced for brief swallows of air. He grabbed frenziedly at Kitty's hips across his mother's body and was rewarded with a stinging slap across the cheek.
'Take her, big man!" taunted Kitty. "This thing's mine!" She squirmed toward her younger brother and just that fast Stew saw his family dissolve before his eyes.
The build-up of lust had been far too great in both Barry and Dennis to brook any more delay. With an elated exchange of glances the two overwhelmed young males leaped across the succulent, tantalizing Kitty and Dixil, while their horror-stricken father stared in disbelief. It couldn't have come to this! Yet it had and he had brought it here.
"Have all of us you can take, you beautiful men!" gasped Dixil as Barry's knobby hugeness probed in initial uncertainty through yielding quim lips. "Stew, watch!" she called breathlessly across the bed. "He came from here." She fingered through to her pudendum. "Flesh of my flesh ... bone of my bone ... and now ... ooohhh, Stew, doll.. .! He's putting the bone back in me!"
Her husband gawked in transfixed terror at the sight of the sudden conversion of the loving wife he had known for more than two decades to a female crazed for the cocks of her sons.
"Fuck me, Barry, fuck me! Stew, you like me doing it with him, don't you?"
Protest started to spill from Stew's lips and choked off as he saw no one was listening. Kitty meshed in Denny's body and Dixil possessed of Barry's were in a demon-driven copulation frenzy. He stared at the writhing wonders of both the girls ... and if Dixil was truly forty-two, she seemed only a girl to the spectator . . . and both girls were in orgasm.
Their jungle-like suppleness squirming in female want on the impaling cocks, Dixil and Kitty were wriggling impassioned witches. Breasts jutting, hardened nipples skyward, hips writhing to the relentless pumping of their lovers-of-the-moment. It was a shock Stew knew he would never fully recover from when he heard his oldest son shriek his orgasm's arrival and begin to pump his ejaculation into Dixil's vagina. Shock compounded when moments later the boys switched partners, neither losing his hard-on even after discharging frenziedly seconds before.
Stew gaped at the sight of Barry's semen drooling from the cleft of Dixil's cunty-lips, just before an eager Dennis thrust himself between her thighs. Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on her husband's face as she took their second son's best and it was that look that drove Stew from the bed.
He stumbled into the hall. The sounds of mingled male and female rapture following him from what till this night had been the master bedroom and now was a room for anyone but the master.
"Stew." Her call stopped him just as he was moving from the range of the sound of their ecstasies. "Stew
..." The call repeated when he paused. .. come back, Stew."
"Yeah," he muttered, standing dejectedly in the threshold of his bedroom. "I've got it coming ... I was stupid. I'll get the hell out of the way."
"No way!" Her eyes sparkled. "You're going to watch and then you're going to put things back together around here. After I've had the chance to catch up a little and know you know how it feels!"
Stew gaped at her, his body numb. Dixil wasn't lost-not altogether, maybe. Kitty had been disturbed and tormented about her marriage and he had only added to her dilemmas. Whether she was serious about the older man who directed the grad school who she said was her kind of man, was anybody's guess.
How he'd ever put the jigsaw mess he'd made together again, Stew knew damned well he didn't know. All he knew was there was that mischief in Dixil's eyes when she met and held his stare and it said that all the lights between them hadn't gone out.