(Author's note: This story and "The Bradford Family Saga" were written simultaneously; parallel stories with the same theme. Certain scenes and/or dialogue are common to both.)
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Carol Brady sat on the commode, her nightgown bunched around her waist. Through wide open legs she watched the last drops of her morning piss cling to her silky blonde pussy-hairs. She stretched and yawned, willing her reluctant body awake. At her feet a magazine lay open; two classified ads circled. Her and her husband, Mike had answered one of them last night. The other was one she wasn't sure that she would tell her husband about.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?" he answered, pushing the bathroom door open.
"Well, aren't you a sight?"
Except for a towel around his midsection, Mike Brady was naked and his flaccid cock made a delightful bulge. Eyeing his wife appreciatively, he felt a stirring in his loins. Even at age 50, Carol Brady still possessed the physical attributes that first caught his attention over twenty years ago. Blessed with good skin tone, and bone structure, her face showed no surrender to her years. She was petite, but well put together, with still firm tits; small, but full; a flat stomach, and tight buns. If someone didn't know her age, she could pass for thirty-five. And how she could fuck!
Looking at her, he knew he was a very lucky man and he blessed the day he met her - in court! He, with three young sons, for the final probate of his late wife's will, and Carol, with three equally young daughters, trying to induce her ex to pay back child support.
"Oh, Mike," she said, "I can't wake up this morning. I'm beat up. What about you?"
"Ol' Stallion Brady? Fit as a fiddle and rearin' to trot. Want to go around again?"
"You're too much," she giggled, "Did you hide the video? I don't want the kids stumbling over it while they're here."
"Of course, I did. Relax, Bobby doesn't go sneaking through our drawers anymore."
"Oh, God. Do you remember when he found your rubbers and thought they were balloons. I almost died from embarrassment."
"Hell, we've come a long way since then, haven't we?"
"And how. That's why I want that video stashed where no one is going to find it. You amateur C.B. DeMilles' are going to get us hung."
He smiled as he watched his wife delicately wipe her pussy. "Com'on, admit it; you enjoy watching the replay as much as I do. Admit it," he urged.
"I'll do no such thing," she said with a smile, " You're a dirty old man."
"I sure am," he said, pulling her to him, feeling her full, firm tits against his bare chest, making his blood stir, and was amazed that he still couldn't get enough of her, not even after twenty years. They had found the real secret of keeping the magic alive.
"How'd you like this 'dirty ol' man' to prong you again?"
"After last night? You can't have that much energy left."
Mike rubbed the palm of his hand over her nipple. Immediately it came alive and hardened. He knew that her pussy was beginning to soup up; her tits were her trigger.
"Oh, you bastard! That feels so good." She said, playfully punching his arm.
"So you're not really all that beat up."
"You know how beat up I am. You have it recorded for posterity."
"I sure as hell do, and everytime I think about it, I get horny. Come on, let's go to bed."
Carol giggled as she allowed herself to be maneuvered to the large bed. Mike pulled the tassel on her gown and it fell to her feet almost causing her to trip. Reaching out for her he found her left tit. The electric shock made her suck in her breath, and instantly reach for his hardness.
"God," he said with a choke in his voice, "you're a good-looking woman; the same as you were twenty years ago."
She kneaded his cock, feeling it grow hot in her hand. "And you, pretty liar, only get better with age. More kinky, too," she giggled.
He pushed her back on the bed, his hands trailing over the hills and valleys of her body. He spread her legs wide apart and blew softly into her silky, hot cunt making her moan. He could see the pussyjuice glisten on the golden strands of her cunt hair. The hot pink lips beckoned. Slowly, he flicked his tongue over her exposed clit.
"Oooooooo, Mike... mmmmmmmmm." Automatically, her cunt lips parted. He grabbed her asscheeks and buried his face in her musky mound.
"Oh, God... yes!" she screamed as he began sucking her pleasure spot. "That's it, that's it!... Oh, shit, yesss! Oh, Mike, suck harder... no... don't stop...don't.. don't be mean, keep sucking!... Oh, oh, aaaaaaaaaah! Christ! Stick your finger in my cunt... pleaseeeee!.. Yes, yes, like that... oh, so good. Fill me up!... Harder, Mike, suck harder!"
Mike's tongue darted in and out of her cunt; he nibbled the outer lips; sucked hard on her clit, then slowed. He knew her body; her responses; how to drive her to the brink and back again. He twisted his finger around her cunt wall, feeling the slippery texture, adding to her torment and pleasure.
"Oh, you sonofabitch," she screamed, "my ass... my ass, stick your finger in my ass! Hurry, I'm dying!... AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
The muscles of her ass contracted as he relentlessly pushed his finger into the tight ring of her bunhole. A vision of Carol with a huge, thick prick in her ass flashed through his mind, and his erection became almost painful.
Her breathing was labored and her words came in gulps. "Oh, Mike... I'm so full... aw, shit... I need your cock in me, bad. Quick, lay down... I've got to have it!"
Quickly, they shifted positions, and Carol placed her throbbing cunt directly over her husband's purple cockhead. Hunkering down, she slowly easing herself down on his raging prick. With love and tenderness she felt her pussy stretch, felt it push its' way deep into her body. She controlled the sensation, making it last. It was heaven!
"Sooooo, sooo, good," she sighed as her cunt filled up with cock. Oh, how she loved to have a man's prick inside her body. It was a pleasure beyond description. She leaned forward, forcing his pleasure rod deeper. Eyes glazed, mouth open, she slipped into a state of euphoria where only this great, indescribable feeling existed; a feeling she kept alive by the constant piston and churn motions of her wanton hips.
"Shit, your cunt's like fire... burning me alive. I gotta cum!"
"Oh, no, no, don't come yet... please, not yet. More! Oh, God, More!!" she cried; their loins beating a frantic rhythm as they sensed the apex of their passion.
"I'm gonna cum, Mike! I'm gonna Cum... harder! Fuck me harder. Make me Cum!!"
"Yeah! Yeah! Yesssssss... Cummmmmmmmmming!!!"
"Ughhhhhh... aaaaaaag...ooooooooooh."
Carol shuttered as her orgasm exploded outward from her cunt. Hotly, Mike's cum juices splashed deep in her pussy and the receding flood as his cum washed over her cunt walls, back over his cock, and began leaking out and down her trembling thighs. She fell forward; his cock disengaging from her sopping box with a loud pop. Her rapid breathing slowly abated. "Now you know I'm beat-up. Where do you get all that juice from? You should've been drained last night."
"I'm a voyeur," he laughed, "I think of you, like last night and my factory starts pumping."
"Hell, I'm glad the kids are coming this weekend for our anniversary. Maybe I can get some rest."
"Yeah, it'll be good to see them, especially the girls."
"What does that mean, you lecher?"
"Hey, three good-looking sets of buns running around in bikinis; the answer to every dirty old man prayer."
"You're horrible!"
"And you're going to tell me you didn't do a whole bunch of crotch watching when Peter was here last month. Don't lie, Carol, I saw you."
"That's different," she laughed, "he's not really my son; just one of my adopted sons."
"Oh, and just what the hell are the girls to me?"
"Oh, Mike, where has the time gone? Greg's a doctor; Peter, a lawyer. And Bobby almost has his MBA."
"I ask myself that question all the time. Marcia has her own decorating business; married over three years to that asshole. Jan's a full fledged architect, and Cindy's about ready to graduate."
"At least Bobby and Cindy are together, the rest of the family is so spread out. That's why this reunion is so important; even if we have to put off some of our... er, other activities," she paused for a moment then continued,
"Jan following in your footsteps means a lot to you, doesn't it?"
Carol rolled to Mike, rested her head on his chest and fingered his now limp, sticky dick. "And she's doing so well, too."
"Yeah, she's good, too." He laughed, "And being built like a brick shithouse didn't hurt, either. Old man Marley drooled all through her job interview."
"Mr. Brady, I think you have impure thoughts about your daughters."
"And you for the boys, Mrs. Brady. After what we've been doing, how can it be helped?"
"I hate to admit it, but you're right... I did peek at Peter's crotch, it looked nice; and with all of them home this weekend we should get all the peeking we can handle."
She ran her hand through her short, thick blonde hair, then tweaked his drooping prick. "Come on, Mr. Brady, let's get up. You know how much I enjoy that first cup of coffee in the morning."
Mike made a mental note to hide last night video. Carol retrieved her nightgown and the magazine from the bathroom floor. The ad stared back at her.
WHITE LADIES - AT YOUR SERVICE FIVE BLACK MEN - OVER 50 INCHES OF COCK. YOUR WILDEST DREAMS AND FANTASIES FILLED TO THE BRIM AND THEN SOME. CALL 555-3573
After the children left, she thought, then there would be enough time to explore the possibility.
***
Marcia Brady-Dansforths' mind was detached, separated from her body. It floated free, and its' eye wandered about the bedroom. It saw Marcia laying on the bed, legs wide and pushed back over her husband's shoulders; saw Tom Danforth's skinny dick pumping furiously in and out of Marcia's semi-dry cunt. It could hear her respond by rote; moaning or moving on cue, like an actor in a role. It was a good performance.
She knew she would have to call it back; help her through this - as she had done so frequently in the past. Sex with Tom Danforth has lost the little sparkle that it once had. Her mind circled once more, taking in Tom's heaving flanks, her own firm, rounded asscheeks; pink, puckered anus involuntarily contracting; round tits flattened against her chest by her husbands weight, blonde hair framing her oval face, then it returned to its' rightful place.
Greg! Oh, Greg, she thought, come to me! I need you. She could see her brother as he had been that day, younger, but with a full grown prick; thick and heavily veined. He lay naked on his bed, legs apart. His hand slowly caressing his heavy cock, bringing it to life. She saw herself watching from the closet - a childish impulse - her sister, Jan, gripping her arm tightly. She could 'see' the strange heat begin in her cunny; in Jan's. She could 'see' it spread upward through their young bodies.
