Chapter 3
During the evening meal Richard tried to make me look bad in front of his women. He lectured me on responsibility, posterity, and duty, and he also said he had no respect for me. His daughters listened attentively and I soon understood that I had been used as an example for them: If you neglect your studies you'll be like your Uncle John one day, a bum! There was no getting around it, my brother was an asshole, as big an asshole as my father had been.
"You may be right," I said at the end of his lecture. His wife had sat right alongside him, beaming her encouragement at me. "But then again, you may be wrong. It all depends on how you'll feel at sixty-five. I want to have a big store of memories for that time so I can sit back in my rocker and go over all the women I've loved and all the places I've been to one by one, detail by detail. And I can't really stand the thought of my retirement being marred by the awful realization that I've wasted opportunities or done nothing in particular."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said brusquely, getting up from the table. He knew all right. He wanted to be me so badly he could taste it. But he had made his commitment and I had made mine, and we were both stuck with it. The girls looked at me oddly after my little speech, and when Richard sat down in the TV, it was went over and sat close to him. Richard smiled at her and for a moment he looked very boyish. From that point on I kept a close watch on him and his youngest daughter, and the results were very interesting.
Jean and Lora cleared the table and Diane sat by me on the patio overlooking the pool. She was hungry for conversation and we spent the best part of the evening talking about art and life. Jean joined us for a while and I noticed how her eyes bored into me when I addressed her. She was a very intense girl and I couldn't work out whether she was hot for me or just wanted to study me the way a scientist studies a rabbit. Motherland daughter looked charming together, both of them in loose-fitting dresses that permitted tantalizing glimpses of panties and thigh, and provoked the most lewd thoughts in me. Which one did I want first? I wanted both of them together!
That was something I had never achieved in my life. I'd been to bed with two women, three at an orgy, I had fucked sisters, a girlfriend's mother, and my interest in combination-fucking had led me to screw an entire fatherless family once. But a mother and daughter together! Was that possible? I dismissed the idea as idle but it persisted in the back of my mind, and the longer I talked with them the stronger the urge grew. Of course I wanted to fuck them individually, too. Diane looked as though she would love it so much that sheer gratitude alone would make a climaxing fool out of her. And her daughter with those burning dark eyes and her steady scrutiny hinted at an explosive little fuck with lots of screaming and obscenities. My cock twisted and I had to cross my legs and hastily change position so it could expand without making a tent in my lap.
But nothing came of it that evening. I went to bed at about midnight, tired suddenly, aware of how little sleep I'd had in the past forty-eight hours. My room was a small one in between the girls' rooms, while the master bedroom was across a narrow corridor. I wanted to check and see if there was any chance of getting a look into the adjoining room but I was too tired to indulge the voyeur in me. All I could do was strip off my clothes and fall onto the bed. It was a warm night, no need to turn back the bedclothes, and so I fell asleep on the bedspread, sliding backwards into wild dreams of blonde pussy and brunette pussy and two-tone pussy, always pussy with a few tits her© and there. If ever I became wealthy enough to afford a family crest it would be a pussy on a field of tits and ass, and there'd be a pencil and a paintbrush sticking out. Was this what life was supposed to be? Diane's question haunted my dreams too.
I awoke with a start, dreaming that a shark had taking my cock into its mouth and was about to close its razor-sharp teeth on it. It was pitch black in the room and I was sweating profusely. Was it a dream? Part of me said yes, there are no sharks in suburbia. But what was that funny sensation around my dick? "Ssssshhhhh!" someone hissed. A snake! Oh no, no, it was clear to me now. I lay back and let whoever it was have her way with my cock. It was too dark to see who it was, so I asked. But all she said was "Ssssshhhh!"
Soft fingers stroked my belly, a curling, abrasive tongue lapped at my glans, slithering along, spiraling down to the base of my cock and moving back up again, leisurely working my erection up into a state of frenzy. It had to be Diane! Who else could blow so well? "Diane, is that you?"
"Sssssshhhh!" She was right, why spoil it? I closed my eyes and folded my arms back under my head, taking a position of utter selfishness so that the midnight prowler could have her way with me. Her tongue work was delicate and thorough. She licked every part of my cock, moving down to my balls and wetting them down before sliding her lips over them and chewing them ever so lightly with her lips protecting my tender eggs from the edges of her teeth, while those fingers ran over me to evoke restless impulses in my loins. I wondered what would happen if Richard woke up and found his wife missing. Not that I was too worried. I'd been able to beat him up since I turned six, and now that he was in his forties and flabby I'd have even less trouble.
"Mmmmmmmm!" I groaned, shifting from side to side and lifting my cock and balls up at her for more. She responded by caressing my dick and suckling my balls deep inside her mouth, letting her tongue and her warm spit wash them, sucking on them so that the ball bag stretched and my balls were at her throat, then releasing them and turning her head so her lips turned around my scrotum. I thought of Tazu and of how she used to suck me off, and this woman was nearly as good. I loved the way she worked her tongue all around my shaft and then wormed the tip into that small slit at the top of my knob. Whenever she did that I groaned involuntarily and my back arched tautly to give her all she wanted. Then she pursed her lips over the tip of my cock and slowly, slowly, let them take all of it in between their smooth, velvety pads. Once she had reached the base she went back up and moved her head up and down swiftly about a dozen times in succession, just long enough to get me so steamed up that I reached for her head and held it still so I could jam my dick down her throat. But she pushed my hands out of the way and slapped me on the wrists. "Lie still!" she whispered. Was it Diane? It didn't sound like her, and yet it didn't not sound like her either.
Her hands pushed at my legs, taking them by the backs of my thighs and moving them up and out of the way. Surely not! I couldn't believe she had my favorite pastime in mind. But I let her push me over until my knees were at either side of my head, and bore her tentative caresses with bated breath. She sucked at my balls, but her hands were stroking the cheeks of my ass and my inner thighs, working slowly but surely toward my asshole. I wanted to tell her I couldn't take much of that but I couldn't make myself dissuade her. "Aaaaaahhhhh yesssssss!" I sighed, surrendering utterly. How I loved women who were prepared to take the initiative! So few were, but the ones who did always bowled me over. And Diane, or a sneak female rapist, was bowling me over tremendously!
She started to kiss inside my thighs and her breasts dangled down so that one of her nipples touched my asshole. That got my cock twitching. I lay in my uncomfortable position with my eyes closed, just waiting for that electric moment when her tongue reached my sphincter. I knew she was going to do it. Her breathing indicated that she was as horny and lustful as I was, the kind of horny that makes men and women want to do the most intimate things to each other, to delve into those spots that represent the last frontier. Her tongue cruised along my skin, coming closer and closer, and my body started to get tremulous. Warm fluid dribbled out of my cock and stuck to my belly. It was hard for me to breathe, and the perspiration was pouring out of me. "Go ahead," I whispered. "That's great, go to it, baby!"
Closer, closer, she was playing me the way an angler plays a trout. It had to be Diane! This was an experienced woman! Oh yeah, there she blew! Her tongue circled my asshole a few times, just skimming along the edges, her hands dug into my flesh to open me right up, and then that female pervert shoved her tongue into me and sank it so deep that her face pressed into the split between my cheeks and my ball bag, and her tongue fluttered about inside me to take me close to climaxing that it required a superhuman effort to stop it. Luckily she let up for a minute, and in that minute I recovered myself sufficiently to take her next onslaught.
Nails scratched at the backs of my legs, breasts pressed into my back, her hot breath streamed along my cock and balls, and that tongue dipped in and out rapidly, tongue-fucking me anally, something very few women had done for me. I just lay there and wallowed in the beautiful feelings she instilled in me. I throbbed from head to toe like a giant cock and the top of my head felt as though it was about to lift off to let out a great big load of cerebral sperm.
Back to my cock. She took it into her mouth and one long finger pushed its way up my ass to slide in and out steadily, unhurriedly. And when it was right up in there she crooked the top joint so that her long nails scratched at the prostate gland and made more sperm drip out of my tortured dick. She sucked it up noisily and kept agitating my gland, working more juice out of it and keeping me trembling on the brink of my orgasm. It was frustrating and ecstatic at the same time, so near -to blowing and yet not quite there, unable to breathe and not needing to, floating a few feet off the ground. "A bit longer!" I whispered. "Just a few more seconds and I'm going to come right into your mouth!"
But that wasn't part of her plan. She withdrew her finger, released my cock and made me lie flat oh my back again. She gave me a minute to recover, a minute in which my cock throbbed painfully. The cool night air dried the wetness on my dick and made it feel lonely. But my attacker had no intention of letting my erection go to waste. Now that my eyes were more accustomed to the dark I could make out her dim shape and see that she had turned her back to me. She squatted over my cock and gently guided it into her pussy hole. She was hardly tight or dry at that moment, and my cock slipped in easily. Then, with jerky bobbing motions, she began to fuck me while looking the other way.
It felt as though a wet silken glove had taken hold of my dick and was giving it a hand-job. I could feel her cuntal flesh quaver and contract about my oversensitive member, feel her big cheeks push down on my belly, and hear her faint grunts as she worked her pussy right down over me. Perhaps it was Jean? The curtains were drawn so not even the starlight could enter the room to let me see if the she-rapist was blonde or brunette. Her ass was big but then Diane and Jean both had ... Oh, what the hell. It was Diane, it had to be.
That pussy slithered up and down my cock so wetly that there was soon hardly any sensation for me at all. I was dying to come; I could feel the tingling dryness in the top of my cock that ached just to be relieved by a good blurt of sperm. "Come on baby, bear down," I whispered. My hands grabbed her cheeks and pressed into the deep flesh to tighten her cunt hole and put the pressure on my dick. This time she didn't take my hands away, she just fucked a little harder, puffing, panting like an engine, and then she let out a stifled cry of mixed pain and pleasure, and went limp all over. She toppled forward and I had to follow her quickly so my cock wouldn't fall out. And with a last flurry I fucked myself over the top, blowing my load into her squelching pussy and subsiding happily.
"Oh shit," I heard her mutter. She got off the bed and padded to the door. What she had forgotten was the small night light that burned in the corridor, and when she opened the door to go back to her own room, that little light let me see who I'd been fucking with for the first time. It was a brunette who walked quickly out of sight with her hand between her legs to stop the sperm from running out. Jean, my sexologist niece, had been doing independent research. I grinned and lit up a cigarette. Richard's kids were a lot more interesting than I could have expected—but that was probably due to Diane. I wondered Why she'd been so secretive, though. It wasn't as if I was the kind to fuck and tell.
I slept much better for the rest of the night and when I woke up late the next morning I felt like a new man. Gone were the tight knots of frustration that had marked Tazu's departure. I could face the week now. A long shower and a shave set me up for breakfast, and when I got down to the kitchen I found Diane and Jean in there. They smiled and greeted me, asked what I wanted to eat, and neither of them gave a single hint that anything extraordinary had happened the previous night. Diane couldn't know—but how did Jean manage to keep such a blank front? She sat at the table with me as I ate and chatted about family matters and how she had followed my erratic career, and if I hadn't had such vivid memories of our night together I might have been persuaded that it was all a dream.
They were preparing something culinary, and as they worked and talked I sat at the table and made quick sketches of them. They were dressed in shorts and halters. There was a cool breeze blowing through the house, they were in a summery mood, and pretty soon they forgot all about me. How delightful they were, mother and daughter, so alike and so different.
"What are you drawing?" asked Jean. She leaned over my shoulder and when I looked back at her I caught sight of her globular breasts, so tanned and soft, and the thought that they had banged against my ass only hours earlier gave me a chilly sensation all up and down my spine. "Oh look, Ma, it's us! Is that what I look like? That sure is you, Ma. Boy, Uncle John, you are terrific! Look at that!"
"I wish I could draw like that," sighed Diane. "Oh, hut you flatter me, John, you've got me looking like a teenage girl!"
"You were at the moment I drew that," I said. "It's when you forget yourself and what you are, that the real you comes out. You're as young and as beautiful as you were when I first met you. God, how you made me suffer when I was fourteen! I used to dream about you and draw you in all sorts of poses ... Well, perhaps I shouldn't talk about that when your daughter's present."
"There's nothing sacred as far as Jean's concerned," laughed Diane. "She's studying sexology? you know. Besides, we're a very open family."
"Yeah, when Daddy's not around," said Jean wryly.
"So what are you saying about poses?" asked Diane.
"Oh, you know how it is when you're an adolescent infatuated with an older woman," I shrugged, pretending to be embarrassed. "You can't have her so you come as close to it as possible. And my way of doing that was to draw you in the nude and then jerk off over you. I must have made love to you in every possible way ... in my mind."
"Really." Diane looked flustered for a second, a brief confusion that was quickly covered up by the observation that the coffee was ready. She poured for us and Jean pumped me for more information. "Did that satisfy you? Do you have any of those drawings left? Do you still do that sort of thing?"
"Yes, yes, and sometimes," I said. "But to answer your questions more fully, I didn't really know what I was missing at the time, and those drawings are stored in New York, and thirdly it takes something really special to make me masturbate these days."
"Like what?" pressed Jean.
"Darling, your uncle doesn't want to answer questions like that," chided Diane.
"No, I don't mind," I said. I liked talking about sex with these two women, if only because I wanted them both. And what better way to achieve that objective than to advertise my interest in them and sex? "If it's something unusual and takes me by surprise, as in the dead of night for example, then it'll go on arousing me for days—and that can, at times, lead me to abuse myself tremendously." I looked Jean right in the eye when I said that but the girl didn't blink. She just nodded and declared that very interesting. I began to wonder if she was a split personality.
"And Ma, at one time, affected you that way, huh? Well, she's still a very sexy lady, how does she grab you now?"
"Are you trying to matchmake?" I asked. Diane and her daughter laughed uproariously even though I hadn't been particularly funny, and then Diane changed the subject just slightly, just enough to get us on a wholly different track. We ended up discussing the relative merits of Gurdjieff and Camus, which in turn led to a lot of yawning and the resolution that it was time for a dip in the pool. The women went upstairs and changed, but I always wear the kind of briefs that can pass for a swim suit, so I dropped my jeans and dove right into the pool.
When they came out of the house I became more determined than ever to make love to both of them at the same time. There was a subtle rivalry between the two of them. Friendly as they were, they were still mother and daughter, and mother was still pretty and sexy enough to present a real threat to her daughter; while her daughter was the comer, the one who would take over where she had left off one day. And now they stood by the side of the pool waiting only for me to get a good look at them in their skimpy bikinis.
"Wow!" I said, looking from one to the other. You two look terrific!"
"Thank you," they said, and then they dove into the pool and swam a few lengths. They passed close to me and I sank under the surface so I could watch their bodies thresh through the water from that angle. My dick stuck out of my briefs from being near these two erotic time bombs. Their sensuality, their competitiveness, and their suntanned, sensuous bodies, made me wonder how Richard ever managed to tear himself away from his household. Father or not, I'd be hanging around and reveling in it all.
"You know, you're not bad yourself," said Diane when we were sitting on the edge and dangling our legs in the water. "The years have been very kind to you, John."
"It's not like I'm fifty!" I protested.
"That's toot what I mean. Look at those stomach muscles, Jean; that's how your father I looked when I first met him twenty-one years ago." Jean leaned over and scrutinized my stomach critically. At the same time the bulge in my briefs expanded visibly. The experience of the previous night lingered over my mind like a little cloud, tinting everything else, and the smallest gesture she made reminded me of her busy tongue and the places it had made so happy.
"Do you work out or something?" the girl asked.
"Oh sure, I do a lot of running, usually away from fights; and then I do as many push-ups as I can, but never alone. And what else? I crane my neck a lot,"
"You're a terrible man, Uncle John," she laughed, Diane slapped me playfully and suggested we all have a drink. I don't enjoy drinking early in the day because it makes the rest so hard to remember, but I could see she was trying to screw up her courage a little. Jean brought a bottle of whiskey, some soda and ice, and set it all out on the table under the pool-side umbrella, and we toasted each other gravely. But I sat on my drink while they slugged them down. "I see you're not a suburban creature," remarked Jean. "Because if you were your system would need an infusion of alcohol by this time."
"You sound very jaded," I said.
"Oh, don't take any notice of her, John, she just likes to affect world-weariness," said her mother. All the same she poured a second round for herself and Jean, and when that was gone they were noticeably bolder. "Listen, you're family, John," she said confidingly, slurring her words slightly. "Jean and I like to skinny dip. It's safe here, the neighbors can't see a thing, and it's so nice! But if you don't like that sort of thing you can go inside and we'll just have fun."
"I couldn't possibly look on," I said, getting up and removing my briefs, "so I'll go inside and study the Bible for a few hours."
"Very good." I dove into the pool and the two women stood up and undid their halters. A bounty of tit appeared, two of them fresh and upright, full globes of flesh that poked arrogantly at the sky; the other two more worldly, fuller, a little overripe perhaps but so soft and sensual that I hoped I wouldn't have to make a choice between the sets. They saw me watching and a glimmer of pride came into their eyes, although they didn't remark on my interest. Jean bent forward and stepped out of her bikini bottom, then straightened up and after a small pause leaped over my head into the pool. For the duration of that pause I saw the full beauty of her body, so sleek and firm, with a dark triangle of hair between her thighs and a belly that bulged out from the navel, and tits that barely moved even when she jumped up. But now Diane took off her last garment and once again her body made me wonder which I preferred. She was sagging a little and her pubic hair was thick and unruly and grew more wildly, and her belly was more protrusive, but what a delicious fuck she was! I couldn't keep my cock down in spite of the cool waters surrounding it. Diane oozed sex from every pore. When she moved her flesh quivered and shook, intimations of pillow-softness, and then she turned around and treated me to a lingering look at her ass. Two big cheeks that swelled up from the small of her back, round and full, and sagging outward somewhat at the join of her thighs. She placed her bikini carefully over the back of the chair, bending over unnecessarily, and then turned back to me with a big smile.
"Is that how you used to draw me, John?" she asked.
"Down to the last pubic hair," I said, unable to keep the admiration out of my voice. Again her smile became confused. She jumped into the pool and took a few more turns before she sat down in the shallow end next to her oldest daughter. "That's what I like about family," she said loudly. "You can speak your mind when they're around, you don't have to be artificial with family people at all."
"Yes, right, Ma," said Jean. The irony in her voice was lost on her mother, who for that moment believed in what she had said. But even I knew what she was trying to hide from herself. Diane wanted to get laid, I was the most eligible man to come along in many a moon, and it frightened her to be confronted ; with the prospect of her own infidelity. "Interesting how you can maintain an erection under water," observed the aspiring sexologist. "Don't men take cold showers when they're horny?"
"I've never tried that," I said, standing up and regarding my own erection with simulated surprise. "But it might work if the shower was ice cold."
"John, please! Don't show off!" said Diane.
"Why? It's not like you clamped your hands over those magnificent tits, is it?" I said argumentatively. "So why should I hide my pride and joy from your eyes?"
"He's terrible," said Diane to her daughter, and Jean agreed without taking her eyes off my cock. It was a super-charged situation. If I made a move now I might win both of them or lose them for good, I thought about it and decided against action. Let them make the move; play it safe and maybe they'll let you off the hook. Because, as much as I desired Jean and Diane, a part of me didn't think it was fair to poach on my brother's preserves. The poor slob had worked hard and long to put this household together, and who was I to pick the fruits? No, if the women made the first move (or had they already made it?) at least I'd have the comfort of knowing it wasn't my fault. That would place the onus on Richard, for having neglected his husbandly and fatherly duties! Ah, the human mind, what an arsenal of rationalizations! I sat down in the pool and splashed water at them, then backstroked to the other end. Diane got out of the pool and poured herself another drink. Her hands were shaking and she gulped the whiskey and soda down in a hurry. Jean swam toward me noiselessly, her head bobbing along the water's surface as if it no longer belonged to her body, and when she drew up alongside me her hand brushed against my belly and cock very briefly.
"I beg your pardon!" I protested.
"We're all family in this pool," she said, and now her naked body pressed softly against me. "What does it matter how we touch each other or how we look at each other? I mean, you're like an uncle to me, Uncle." She laughed and Diane joined in.
"That's true, that's true," she said, easing herself back into the pool and swimming over to grab hold of the edge on my other side. "If you weren't family we wouldn't think of being naked with you. But as it is we can touch and all that, it makes no difference."
"In that case," I said, and right away I sank under water and kept my eyes wide open. There they were, mother and daughter pussy ensemble, both of them treading water and taking no care to keep their legs closed. My hands reached for both of them and slipped in between their thighs to squeeze their hairy cunts for as long as I could hold my breath. "There," I said, coming back up and shaking the water out of my hair. "Now tell me if that's the way family members touch each other."
They didn't answer. As one they took in air and disappeared under the surface, and a second later I felt their fingers caressing my cock and balls. All too soon they had to come back up, both of them glowing triumphantly. "See, we can all play that game," said Diane. Her eyes told me long stories of frustration and yearning, and suddenly, as though she realized I knew what was going through her head, she got out of the pool and told us she felt dizzy. "I have to go lie down for a while. Don't do anything I wouldn't do now, Jean." She meant it, too. The last sentence was a cold slash that snapped the girl out of the sun-and-whiskey-induced euphoria.
"She's getting crazier every day," Jean told me when her mother had gone into the house.
"Why doesn't she do something about it?" I asked. "She's a very attractive woman, surely she could arrange an affair for herself."
"Oh, you know how it is, she's suffering from ancient inhibitions. The nuns educated her to believe that adulteresses would end up hanging from meat hooks."
"Well, I'm glad you don't suffer from the same inhibitions," I said with a grin. "That was great what you did last night."
"Last night? What did I do?" She turned pale under her tan and her eyes bored deep into mine as if to extricate the truth from my soul.
"You don't remember?"
"John, believe me, I didn't do anything last night At least, not as far as I know. But ever since I was little I've had trouble with sleepwalking ... OH, John, please! Tell me what I did!"
"Sleepwalking! Come on, baby, that's really stretching the truth," I said. "How could anyone ... " But I saw that she was sincere and quite frightened by what she might have done. "Ah, forget it. I'm feeling a bit dizzy myself." I got out of the pool and ignored her pleas to tell her what had happened. How could I tell her she had rimmed me into a great big climax? Was a bit angry with myself for blowing it in the pool. The women had wanted me and all I'd had to do was deliver myself. Instead I got tied up in silly games. Fuck it! I walked upstairs with the towel .around my waist and was about to go into my room when I heard strange little sounds coming out of the master bedroom. I tiptoed over and peeked through the crack in the doorway. All I could see was Diane's face, and the anguished expression on it told me she was doing her utmost to get off.
I pushed the door a little further open and checked the rest of her. She lay on her back on the bed, naked, still wet, her hair spread like seaweed over the pillows, her eyes closed and mouth open. Her arms worked hard, I could see the muscles rippling, and when I looked in I saw she had one hand between her legs, the other caressing her breasts. My cock reared up with a whinny this time. I wanted to help, I wanted to fuck, and then she saw me and I thought I'd blown it again.
"Come in and close the door, John," she said hoarsely. "Sit down. I know I'm a bit drunk and that I'll probably regret this later ... but everything's topsy-turvy. Oh John, it's so nice to have a man in the house. My whole body feels revived or salvaged from the ruins, really. No, don't sit on the bed, I don't want you to get too close. There's a lot I have to work out before I could ever give myself to another man. Just sit over there and watch me. I'd be so thrilled if you watched me. I used to fantasize about that years ago, that you would sit right where you are and watch while I fingered my-self. Isn't that sick?"
"Not at all," I said. "I used to jerk off over you day and night."
"Did you? Show me how you did that." She propped herself up on a few pillows and watched as I removed the towel and took my cock in hand. It Was already hard so all I had to do was stroke a few times to give her an idea. Her eyes grew glassy with lust and the finger in between her cunt lips moved in short flurries, rubbing her clitoris until she gasped, and then her other hand squeezed her tits hard so that the flesh bulged out between her fingers. "Help me, John," she whispered. "I'm so tight. But don't make love to me, just help me."
I lay on the bed beside her and took over rubbing her clitoris. My finger rotated about in that wet, spongy, hairy pussy, finding the smooth inner flesh and zeroing in on the hard little button hidden Within its folds. Diane spread her legs wide and mauled her tits with both hands, sighing deeply as the waves of passion rushed through her. She asked me to beat myself off with my free hand, no mean feat, but by synchronizing the process I was able to beat off slowly on both fronts.
There we were, sister and brother-in-law, lying on my brother's bed and playing with each other's genitals like two naughty kids. I fulfilled long-dormant dreams for me, because this was precisely what I had wanted to do with her when I was fourteen and fucking was still beyond my imagination. The two of us were pals now, masturbating and having fun. And when she came to very womanly climaxes my cock got the full impact of her passion. Her hand pushed mine out of the way and seized my dick to start rubbing it good and hard. "Easy now, easy now, or I'll come all over your hand," I whispered urgently.
"I want you to, I want you to, oh John, please do!" She rolled over quickly and, jerking quick and hard the whole time, placed her lips over my knob. "Go on, John, come in me!" she said, and then she took most of my dick inside and waited for the gusher. She didn't have long to wait. That whole sex-soaked morning culminated in a rush of sperm that tore my knob open and blasted out to fill her mouth so forcefully that her cheeks billowed out. And Diane, coughing and spluttering a little, managed to suck up every drop of it, moaning, agonized, her body writhing and trembling, until with the full load stored aboard, she subsided along with me and we ended up lying in a limp embrace on the wet bed.
"Richard must never know about this," she said, getting up suddenly. "Promise you won't tell on me, John."
"I promise."
"And this must never happen again. You must think I'm awful!" She avoided looking at me as she stripped the wet bedclothes off the bed and replaced them.
"Tell me something, Diane," I said just to change the subject. "Is Jean really a sleepwalker?"
"Oh yes, she has it bad," said Diane, unaware of the implications.
"I see." I could hardly wait for night to fall again.