Chapter 3

That same year when I was fourteen, my father married again. For months prior to the wedding, he had frequently spoken to me about the future.

"You will like your new mother, Louis. She's a wonderful person, so full of life and fun and vitality. And she has a lovely daughter almost as old as you. It will do you good to have a sister, don't you agree?"

"She won't be my sister," I said.

"Your half sister, in a way," he said. "I don't know what the true relationship will be, but it is a good thing. I have always regretted that your mother and I did not have more children. An only child grows up with quite a different view of life than a child who has many brothers and sisters."

I wondered what it would be like having a sister. I wondered what it would be like screwing a sister-a real sister. In the months since we had sent Melody packing off with her relatives, I had grown quite fond of sex and had even managed to stick it into a couple of girls in my form at school. But they had been fresh, inept, and not half as satisfying as Melody-or even her mother.

But in this manner, Father gradually got me used to the idea of having a mother-and a sister-and I was actually looking forward to the wedding. It had been agreed that his new bride's daughter, Bridget, was to move in with us on the day of the wedding and that we would be looked after during the honeymoon by my Aunt Hattie, my father's sister.

The wedding, as far as I was concerned, was awfully dull. The only spark to the entire affair was Bridget, who was ravishingly beautiful. She had a tremendous set of bubbies, and in her bridesmaid's dress, they seemed to ooze up and out from the pressure of her corsets. She was far more beautiful than Brenda, her mother-my father's new wife.

I could scarcely wait until nightfall when we would be in the house alone with Aunt Hattie. Fortunately, the old girl was nearly deaf and half blind. We would be able to get away with pure murder. But I was in for a tremendous shock.

I was delighted when they arranged for Bridget's bedroom to be right next to mine. There would be no long runs down the corridor for either of us. And there was a transom in the door adjoining the two rooms-if I failed with the girl right off, I would at least be able to climb on top of my night table and look into her room while she dressed for bed. It was better than nothing.

But I was certain that it wouldn't be necessary to peek. Bridget had actually worn lipstick and other cosmetics at the wedding, and everyone knew that girls who did that were not beyond going a little further-and a little further.

When night fell on the city and the house was fast asleep, I tiptoed to the door between our rooms and tried the knob. It was locked, so I sneaked quietly out into the corridor and tried the main door. It, too, was locked. I went back into my room and rapped on the door that joined it with Bridget's room.

"Bridget?" I called out in a hoarse whisper. I heard rustling in the other room and sensed her presence on the other side of the door. "Yes?" she said.

"Open the door. It's locked from your side."

There was a pause.

"Why should I open it?" she asked.

"I want to come in and talk to you."

Another pause.

"We have nothing to talk about."

This time, I paused.

"I want to show you something," I said at last.

My penis was already erected from the thought of showing it to the beautiful half sister, or step sister, or whatever she was to me.

"What is it?" she whispered back.

I decided to really go for broke.

"My big, hard, throbbing pecker," I said.

"I'm going to tell Mummy," she snorted without hesitation. "I have never heard anything so naughty in my life."

And that is the way it went during the entire honeymoon. I was actually relieved when Father and Brenda returned home. I had tried everything to get to Bridget, even to the point of running up behind her and cupping her titties from behind. I had merely been thumped soundly for my efforts.

Three nights after Father's return I learned why.

He left unexpectedly on a trip to the Continent, and the three of us-Brenda, Bridget, and myself were alone in the apartment. Throughout dinner, the two females cast fond looks at each other but actually looked mean and disdainful when they looked at me. Following dinner, I was sent to my room, even though it was far too early to go to sleep.

It was about 10 o'clock-and I was just dozing off-when I heard their voices as they entered Bridget's room. I woke up and strained my ears to hear them in the darkness. Their voices were muffled and the transom was closed, so I got up and put my ear to the door.

"Darling Mummy," Bridget was saying, "was the honeymoon so terrible?"

"Not too terrible, darling," my new mother said. "Have you been a good girl?"

"Oh yes."

"Any trouble with the brat-that sneaky little Louis?"

My ears burned at this. I had not cared much for Brenda, but I was unaware of her stark opinion of me.

"Yes, he kept at me the whole time."

"Did you ... did he ... ? " There was the loud sound of a kiss. "No, Mummy," Bridget said. "I have waited for you."

"Good girl," Brenda said. "I have missed you. Do you realize that it has been more than three weeks?"

"I know."

"Out of those stifling clothes, darling," her mother said. "I want to get a good look at my beautiful daughter."

When I heard the rustling of cloth on skin, I erected quickly and decided that I must have a look. From the talk, I couldn't tell what in thunder was going on. They talked like lovers, but it was impossible. They were both females! I pulled the night table to a spot in front of the door and climbed on top of it. It was uneven, with the edge of the rug under one side, but I balanced myself perfectly and stood on my tip toes to look through the transom.

I nearly fell off the table when my eyes focused on the scene in the room. Bridget had taken off all her clothes, and my new stepmother was already bare to the waist. They were facing each other, and I had no trouble seeing all of their breasts, as well as the dark little patch of hair on Bridget's pussy.

Suddenly, while Brenda took off her skirt and worked on her long panties, Bridget reached out and fondled her breasts. I couldn't believe that one female would be interested in touching another female's breasts. Yet here was Bridget, the object of much pursuing and much passion on my part, actually playing with her mother's tits! Uncanny!

When my step-mothere was naked, the two women clasped each other, their big tits smashing together and their hairy crotches actually grinding together. My hand slipped into my pajamas and clasped my erect dork as the scene in the room below me excited more passion.

"Gadzooks!" I cried under my breath. This was the most uncanny display I have ever seen. What on earth could they possibly hope to accomplish with each other?

In a moment of tremendous ecstasy, the two females fell across Bridget's bed, and while their lips kissed passionately and vigorously, their hands traveled up and down each other's bodies.

"Oh, my darling Bridget," my stepmother moaned, "I've wanted you so much for so long. Did you want me?"

"Every minute, Mummy."

Jesus Christ, I thought. What on earth for?

They kissed so fervently and made love so vigorously that I felt the juices flowing hot in my balls. I began a slow stroking of my penis, at the same time balancing on the wobbly table and keeping my eyes on the two clinging women below. When I saw Brenda's legs intertwine with Bridget's and her thigh press into the soft black fur at Bridget's crotch, I increased the tempo on my tool. In a frenzy of passionate agony, I slid my pajamas down to my knees in order to get at my penis better.

"Mummy," Bridget was saying, "can we-I mean, can you do it tonight?"

"Of course, darling," my stepmother said. "Just let me hold your sweet young titties to mine for a moment. I have missed the sweet and hard feel of your little nipples against mine, and I want to cherish this moment longer."

By this time, I didn't care what the hell the two . .females were going to do. Their actions on the bed-and the sight of so much white-pink female flesh -had done marvelous things to me, and I was frigging so hard, I knew I would come at any second.

But all emergencies-or tragedies-have habit of occurring at the wrong moment. The wobbly table chose this very moment to give way with a resounding crash against the door. I was thrown the opposite way and landed with a sickening thud on my back in the middle of the floor. The blow momentarily stunned me, and when I came to my senses, both Brenda and Bridget were standing in the doorway with candles. They were wearing robes of identical color, shape, and design.

The game was up. There was no disguising the fact that I had been eavesdropping through the transom. And there was no disguising the fact that my pajamas were down around my ankles and that my stanchion was as erect as it could possibly get.

Before I could leap from the floor and run for safety, strong hands gripped my arms, lifted me from the floor, and dragged me to the bed. In the process, my pajamas came off my feet and I was totally defenseless from the waist down.

"So, Louis," my stepmother said. "You like to eavesdrop and do naughty things to yourself at the expense of others. I hope you found the performance to your liking."

I didn't answer. I just looked from hard face to hard face and wondered what they could possibly do to me or if they would actually try to do anything to me. Brenda looked at her daughter.

"Do you think we should make it easier on him?" she asked.

"What do you mean, Mummy?"

"I mean, it's a shame the poor boy has to stand on a miserable table and peek at us through the transom. I think we should invite him over to watch in comfort. Perhaps we might find a way to fit him into our little endeavors, if he insists. Do you insist, Louis?"

I said nothing. If I responded in the same mocking tone, it would only serve to anger her more. If I begged off, it would add fuel to what was obviously an extremely wicked nature. And it was impossible to lie about what had been going on. Suddenly, I grew angry and realized that they had been far naughtier in their conduct than I. After all, I had only myself to answer to-and what did it really matter to my father that I played with myself a little? But Brenda was married to him, and here she was, actually making sexual love to her own daughter.

"Just go on about your business and leave me alone," I said. "I don't want to be a part of your nasty business. If you don't leave me alone, I shall tell father."

My stepmother laughed and slapped her heavy thigh. Bridget looked slightly worried and kept shifting her eyes from her mother to my stillerect penis and back. I doubted that she had ever seen a penis-she had probably been so wrapped up in her mother that she had never been interested in seeing one. At least, that explained why she kept beating me off all during my father's honeymoon.

"Come along, Louis," my stepmother said, taking my arm again. "You come along with us, and we'll see if you feel like telling your father."

I wanted to fight, but I knew she was stronger than I-and there was Bridget to help her. I got up reluctantly and followed them into Bridget's bedroom. Brenda closed the door and leaned against it, her robe falling open far enough to reveal her great, hairy mount.

"Good Lord," my stepmother said, staring at my pointing pecker. "Just look at your stepbrother, Bridget. Isn't it kind of him to continue to show us how much he appreciated our little exhibition.

Why, his penis is almost as big and hard as a man's."

She proved her point by grabbing my throbbing dork and milking it back and forth several times. I gasped at her touch and jerked back slightly. She held on tightly and even stroked the foreskin back, exposing the reddish knob.

"Really, Bridget," my stepmother said, "this young charger is a grown-up as you, possibly even more. We must show our appreciation to Louis and allow him into our little circle of intimacy. After all, we are in the same family now, and families must always share, mustn't they?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"And so it shall be with us and with Louis," my stepmother said. She led me to the bed, like a sheep to slaughter, fully convinced that she was going to torture me with her and her daughter's bodies. She gently pushed me to the bed, indicating that I should he on my back. When I was in position, they both took off their robes and stood above me, their gleaming white bodies literally thundering on my senses.

"We must share what we have with you, Louis," she said. "Since my daughter is a virgin when it comes to love with a man, I am certain that this night will be one to remember for a long, long time. Am I right, Bridget?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"You have never had anything like this between your legs, have you."

"No, of course not."

"Don't say it that way, child. It is perfectly ail right to be loved by both man and woman. I believe it is time for you to be loved by a man-or a boy-man-tonight. I would guess that Louis, too, s a virgin, or he would not have been so curious and have perched on such a dangerous limb to watch two ladies in their boudoir. Am I right, Louis? Of course I am. Since he is a virgin, he will most-likely last only a few moments and will lose his ability almost instantly. For that reason, I will let you indulge yourself with him first while I watch."

Bridget took a tentative step toward the bed, then stopped. Brenda put her hand to the girl's shoulder and pushed her forward.

"Go ahead, child."

"I don't want to, Mummy," Bridget said. "I want you."

"Nonsense, child. You can have me any time. I want you to know about this, and then you can decide which you like the best. If you are fortunate like me, you will enjoy both. Now, go ahead. It is perfectly all right because I say it is all right. Have I ever given you bad advice?"

"No, Mummy."

When she put one knee to the mattress, I looked down and saw the narrow cleft of her sex. This was going to be rough, I thought. I had never cracked a virgin. Although I had always wanted to, I had heard that it was indeed rough on a man's tool. Perhaps, cecause mine had not reached full growth, it would not be so bad. Bridget was moving terribly slowly, and I wanted her to hurry. I had longed for the touch of her beautiful body and the feel of my pecker in her kitten for more than two weeks, and I could hardly wait another second.

"Hurry up, darling," her mother said. "The poor boy will be soft as a noodle before you even get into the bed with him."

As though to forestall that possibility, the mother stepped forward and gripped my penis firmly in her hand. She stroked it a few times, bearing the helmet-shaped head each time. She showed her daughter how to straddle me and actually guided my shaft to the lair and helped her daughter lower until contact was made.

My head swam with the realization of what was happening. Here I was in a bedroom, naked, with my stepmother and my stepsister, and my stepmother was actually holding my tool and guiding it into her daughter's pussy. It was an incredible arrangement, and I felt fortunate indeed that my little peeking game had been found out.

My head swam, and my whole body grew hot and sensitive under the girl's body. Entry was by no means assured as the raw little twat worked feverishly on the knob of my aching post. I looked down and saw that Brenda's fingers were massaging the girl's twat alongside my stanchion, presumably to make the girl more moist and, hence, more receptive. Christ, what a situation. I was having my lovemaking doen for me by the girl's own mother.

To help matters along, I tossed caution to the winds and reached up to cup the fine young swinging breasts. Bridget looked at me sharply, then decided that it was part of the deal. She liked the feel of my hands on her bare tits, and I felt her body slump against my hands, causing my fingers to grip the breasts even more tightly.

My tool had gone in less than an inch, when all action seemed to stop. Even my stepmother realized that the girl just was not sufficiently prepared for the ordeal. She helped her off, leaving my hungry tool unoccupied.

"I have an idea," she said. "Lie on the bed between Louis's legs. Go ahead, lie on your side."

The girl lay between my legs, far down on the bed, and her mother snuggled up beside her. They kissed several times, and then the mother reversed her position. She buried her face between Bridget's thighs, and I could hear strange slurping sounds. The girl was suddenly transformed. She wriggled between my legs, the pressure and sensual feeling of her body keeping my cork in a constant state of rigidity. Her head bounced once against my balls, and I thought I would lose all ardor from the pain.

Even before the pain had subsided, Bridget, reaching out for anything of sexual nature, had grabbed my tool and had slipped her mouth over the exposed knob. She slid my aching erection deep into her small mouth while her hands fondled my painful nuts. I started to writhe and sway feverishly, unaccustomed to this particular feeling of excitement and passion. My hands went in search of something to grasp and closed over the heavy buttocks of my stepmother. My fingers found her huge mount and dug into the soft, wet, oozing cleft. She groaned and bent even more emphatically to her task. Finally, she pulled away.

"There," she said. "You should have no trouble at all, my precious. You're sopping and oozing and ready for anything."

Bridget quickly returned to her squatting position over me, and she was indeed wet and sopping. Her mother once again guided my pistol to the daughter's pussy, and I slid in a full two inches before a tremendous pressure stopped her from lowering more.

"Push," the mother commanded.

"It hurts," the daughter responded.

"Push anyway."

With one mighty thrust, helped a little Dy a sharp push upward by my buttocks, the hymen was broken and I was buried to the hilt in the virgin twat.

'Oh, Mummy!" the girl exclaimed. "Oh, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, it's beautiful."

"Yes, darling," her mother said. "Now you two go about it. If you don't know how, I'll be right here to advise you." , I didn't know about darling Bridget, but I needed no advice. I began to cavort wildly, backing off into the soft mattress and shoving upward into the soft, tight puss. The girl fell forward over me, her firm globes and hard nipples caressing my chest. My hands closed around her tight buttocks, and I pulled her to me with each stroke.

But in her untried state, she was much like me on my first excursion. She came in buckets, and the slimy goo oozed out around my plunging shaft and wet the budding hairs of my pubes.

"I did it," she cried. "I already reached the beauty point."

"Get off quickly," the mother said. "Hurry, darling, before the poor boy does the same."

As soon as Bridget was off me, the mother leaped to the bed, straddling my body, and lowered her snapping, convulsing puss to my erect rod. Entry was easy, just as it had been with Melinda, but her puss was a little tighter, more pleasant. In spite of her conviction that I would spend right away, I rode with her for what seemed an eternity.

The feelings that assailed me then were incomparable with those which my own manual attentions had aroused. My despair rose with my passion and I was soon finding each stroke of my penis as distressing as it was exciting. There was just something about older flesh-something strange and inexplicable-that aroused a combination of passion and revulsion in me. I began to wish that I had come into the sweet virgin box of Bridget and could be spared the further episode with the mother.

Yet my balls seemed to be on fire, and my eyes blurred so that I could see only the vague outline of the curvaceous woman on top of me and could barely make out the enormous swinging breasts as they flap-flapped across my chest with the heaving woman's activity.

I was thrashing madly about, squirming violently and desperately in an effort to placate my agonized genitals, when, just as my orgasm seemed impending within the next thrust, I felt Bridget's body close to my face. I tried to focus my eyes on her to see what she was doing, but she was too close. My eyes caught the white of her skin and the fleeting image of her furry box as she swept across my fine of vision.

Then, with the wet-soft feel of her kitten on my face, I knew what was happening. She had crouched above me and had plopped her little cleft directly over my lips. My lungs cried out for fresh air, and I tried to turn my face aside, not to escape the pussy that was on my mouth, but to take in enough air to sustain me for what I knew I must do.

In all my experience, I had never become involved in oral play. I had never touched a puss with my lips and had never, until tonight, had a girl touch my penis with hers. And tonight, I was breaking all records. My hands swung up alongside her body and grasped the heaving tits of her mother. Then, with my slim body jerking my steel-hard prick up into my stepmother's cunt, my hands deeply embedded in the woman's tits, and my mouth firmly planted on the daughter's tiny twat, I seemed to enter a new and different world.

The slap, slap, slap of flesh against flesh was like an opiate in the dimly lighted room. My inner soul cried out with the incredible stab of sensations that surged through me like a million barbed arrows. There was no respite, and I was thoroughly amazed at my newfound capacity to cling to my youthful potency, to outlast one girl and to ride with her mother to what I trusted would be mutual satisfaction.

Such feelings I had not known in all my previous engagements; in fact, they put all others to shame. My fingers splayed out over the great black nipples, and I dared to pinch them hard and I rammed my bony body up into the soft crotch of the mother. Although I was a total novice at the other duty, I seemed to acquit myself well with my tongue (I pretended I was merely French kissing a pair of lips), and the girl soon came again, this time spending her passion into my mouth. I swallowed the acrid moisture out of pure curiosity and decided that I did not truly care for it.

"Holy Ghost and Christ almighty!" Brenda shouted as I continued to thrust into her wide, loose cunt. "I never thought a mere boy would have so much stamina. My God, Louis, you must frig yourself every hour to be able to go this long."

Although I felt that the end was near for me, I knew from experience that my stepmother was not ready for climax. She dropped heavily on me and her powerful legs brought her back to the apex again, but I knew that she needed more than just the thin pencil of my boyish penis to bring her passions to full fruition. She needed something else, some kind of sexual diversion. But what?

When Bridget had lost out for a second time and now lay panting in the chair beside the bed, I reached my long arms around the heavy buttocks of my stepmother and parted her cheeks with my fingers. I probed until I found her tiny brown hole and, without fanfare or preparation or warning, plunged in my middle finger. The woman yelped with surprise and delight, and I worked the finger in and out with a rapid motion that quickly set up a tremendous friction.

All the time, her loins were moving constantly, drawing her cunt along my penis while her circling arms embraced my own buttocks. She was pulling me into her with a tremendous strength and pressure, and I knew that it was not necessary for me to use any of my own energies.

"Good Lord, you little fucker," Brenda cried as my finger kept up its torture of her posterior, "I don't know how you do it and I don't know where you learned it, but you have the makings of a tremendous lover. You ought to talk to your father."

The mention of my father dimimshed my ardor somewhat, but a few more thrusts of her great, gripping pussy returned me to full stature once again. Her expertness sustained us both, and I was amazed at the accuracy with which she planned and executed each stroke. She would rise to the very tip of my pecker, and just when it seemed a certainty that we would disconnect and that my unruly penis would go swaying off in the wrong direction, she would plunge downward again until her heavy body and rough mound would virtually disembowel me. I turned my head to watch Bridget as she sat panting with exhaustion in the chair. Her still-growing breasts were heaving mightily, and I noticed the fine red glow of her young nipples which tipped the white globes beautifully and delicately. The sight of her naked body served to enflame my senses further, and I renewed my fucking with a tremendous vigor.

Sitting naked, with her triangular bush in full view, she watched for a while as her mother's loins crashed upon my body; and then, her eyes aglow again, she came back to the bed and climbed on behind her mother. I could feel her naked body between my legs and felt her hot breath on my thighs as the girl worked her way up and up and up until she was actually touching my balls with her nose.

Her intentions became apparent when a tremendous thrill raced through my body from a new sensation on my penis. I looked down, and when my stepmother rose for another thrust, I saw what Bridget was doing. She was holding her tongue out as far as she could stretch it so that it slid along the side of my penis each time it was withdrawn. When we were joined, Bridget's tongue was working furiously on the lips of her mother's twat.

As if this were not enough to send me crashing over the precipice of paradise, I felt another grand sensation and realized that Bridget was also tickling my balls with the very tips of her fingers, then fondling them gently, lifting them and squeezing them.

All the while she fondled my balls, her tongue worked furiously on my plunging piston and on the flapping, squishing cunt lips of her mother. The tongue and lips also worked on the surrounding areas, tickling the sensitive strip between my cork and my anus, forcing me to buck and bounce fiercely.

I sank deeper and deeper into a blissful daze of only partial awareness, from which I periodically emerged to the full consciousness of all the millions of sensations that were being produced in my body. The activity varied only slightly, but it mattered little. Every part of my body was so hypersensitive that the girl could have kissed me on the shoulder with as much effectiveness as on my balls. The core of the furnace was, of course, in the region of my loins, and they were rapidly building to a tremendous pressure, which I knew must be soon released or the consequences would be explosive and far-reaching.

I also became aware of the gradually increasing rate of my stepmother's endeavors. As the pace grew, I found her body pounding mine with more weight and viciousness. Her gripping sex had become almost rough in its handling of my slim prick, and the effect was one of a bruising passion, a strong and brutal rendering from my soul of the juices of manhood. Brenda's grunts, groans, and obscene utterances were increasing as well, and I knew that it could not last much longer for either of us.

My passion rose alarmingly, nearly driving me both insensible and hysterical. My body cried out for release, and my numbed brain heard my grunts and moans as though through a highly effective system of baffles. The experience, which I had expected to continue for a little time, but had no idea that it would be prolonged into such a major project, was so fantastic that I could not believe it was happening or that I was the person involved in it. I seemed to be looking at the strange and provocative escapade as part of an audience, apart from it but emotionally involved in it. My head swam, and red flashes passed across my line of vision. My lungs felt as if a band of steel were being tightened around my chest, making breathing impossible, choking, suffocating me, driving me to near insanity with the fantastic sensations and emotions that seemed to invade my every nerve and fiber.

It was as though some gigantic machine was out of control and was working toward the final destruction of itself as well as its creators. With a tremendous upsurge, my passion leaped to the surface again and became a bubbling volcano.

And at long last, I felt the hot fluid boil out of my balls and rush up the thin line of my prick into the hot, receptive, plunging cunt. The woman felt it and responded as I had been certain she would. She came in a sudden spasm of agony that nearly tore my prick from its roots.

Our grunts and groans, our gasps and sighs, our vocal agonies of all types were untried in a complete furor of impassioned sounds as we squirmed in unison, our bodies jerking convulsively until, in a state of utter exhaustion, we fell back. My small, frail body was literally crushed by the weight of her naked woman-flesh, but my senses were by now numbed to dullness, and I lay content under her, wanting to sleep, wanting to ease into unconsciousness, wanting to die.

Finally, she pulled off me and stared in amazement at my wet and glistening penis. It was still erect, still as hard as a bolt.

"My God in heaven," she gasped. "This boy is a veritable fiend. Louis, can't anything bring that thing down?"

The answer was provided by the wholehearted fatigue of my entire body. As my senses continued to numb, my pecker began to soften until before her very eyes, it curled into a small circle over the top of my ball bag.

"And now, Louis," she said as she stood beside the bed in a state of total composure, "you have had a sample of what can happen to a boy who eavesdrops and who frigs himself while he looks into the bedrooms of ladies. I hope you have learned your lesson, and I trust that nothing of this will reach your father."

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her, at her great, heaving breasts, at the ungainly large section of hair around her female sex, at the wide expanse of her naked hips. The thought of relating the details of this insane episode to my father filled me with such revulsion that I was surprised that she felt compelled to ask.

"I won't tell him anything," I said. "And I've learned my lesson."

"And you won't eavesdrop any more? You won't peek?"

"No, ma'am."

"You be certain of it," she said, drawing herself up to full height and forcing her great tits to point toward the ceiling. "And you be certain that you don't slip and tell your father. If you do, just remember that there are two of us to disclaim your word. You would only discredit yourself in front of your father."

I knew that that was not so. My father would believe me because I had never lied to him. I never would. He knew nothing of my sexual escapades because he had never asked about them; he had never suspected, and I had no intention of volunteering anything. If he ever asked, I would tell him everything. And the same was true of what had happened here tonight. If Father asked if I had screwed my stepmother and stepsister, I would say, "Yes, Father, I screwed them both the same night in the same bed, and I also kissed my stepsister's pussy while I screwed my stepmother-all at the same time." If he asked me, that is exactly what I would tell him. And he would believe me.

"Now you must go to your room, Louis," my stepmother said. "It is late, and we must all get to bed. Tomorrow is another night, and we will probably want you to join with us in our game time. Would you like that, Louis?"

"Yes, ma'am," I lied. I would have liked to engage again with Bridget, but I wanted no more of the big, coarse, gross woman. There are some boys, I knew, who like older women more than they like young girls, but my yearnings had always been for the tender young flesh. As I was to later learn, it would always be that way.