Magnus and His Family

Magnus and His Family (Chapter 12)

Kathryn M. Burke

Kristen was giving a lot of thought to the situation of Jenna in the household.

As she had told her brother, she was worried that Jenna was feeling like the "odd woman out" in the whole scenario. Their parents' ecstatic reunion, followed by the unexpected enrapturement of Adele and Curt, and the natural affection of Kristen and Paul did seem to leave Jenna out in the cold—even though the three males of the household had made it abundantly clear, in their sessions with her, how much they appreciated her mature sensuality and seductiveness. She was clearly grateful for this attention, but—at least in Kristen's mind—she still didn't seem quite at ease.

So she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She didn't even tell Adele about her plans, although she did drop a hint to Paul at one point. He was gravely dubious about the wisdom of Kristen's proposal.

"Gee, sis, you'd better watch what you do!" he cried. "You can't just butt your nose into other people's affairs."

"It's a little too late for that, guy," Kristen said tartly. "Jenna's already well ensconced here, and so she's

become

part of our extended 'family.' It's only right that we make some effort to ensure that she's happy."

"Okay, but this could blow up in your face!"

"I don't think so," she said, with a confidence that she really didn't feel.

But she carried on regardless. It wasn't hard to find out where one David Whitman worked. Adele had told her that he was an insurance agent, and Kristen saw that he had a small office not more than five miles from their house. So late afternoon one crisp November day she found herself opening the door to that office.

She encountered an older but quite attractive secretary or receptionist gazing suspiciously at her. It was only after their eyes had locked for some moments that the woman said, "May I help you?"

"Um, yeah," Kristen said, suddenly losing her nerve. "I—I wanted to see David Whitman."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Well, no. I—um, this is a personal matter."

The secretary—who, as her nametag indicated, was named Juliet—gave Kristen a long, searching look before saying, "I see."

She rose heavily from her desk and, hardly letting her eyes roam far from Kristen, approached a door at the back of the little office. It had David Whitman's name on it.

Juliet stuck her head in the door, spoke a few inaudible words to the man inside, then closed the door.

She returned to her desk and gave an almost derisive nod in the direction of David's door. "Go right in," she said, then pretended that Kristen didn't exist.

Kristen strode toward the door—but just as she was about to open it, she experienced a sudden spasm of uncertainty.

Oh, God, what am I doing? Maybe this

will

blow up in my face? Am I really up to this?

"Come on, girl," she said almost aloud as she opened the door.

The man facing her, seated behind a desk, struck her favorably at first—far more favorably than she had been led (by Jenna) to believe. So far as she could tell, he was not a tall man, and not notably muscular; but he had the most

honest

face she had ever seen, a kind of perpetually youthful expression aided by the mop of untidy sandy hair that fell partially over his forehead and framed a face that had ingenuous brown eyes, a somewhat swelling nose, and a surprisingly feminine Cupid's-bow mouth.

At this moment, however, he was looking more frightened than Kristen was.

Both of them stared at each other in stony silence for many moments, until David finally said, "Is there something I can do for you?"

Kristen licked her lips nervously. "Yeah, well, um, my name is Kristen. I know your daughter, Adele, and your ex-wife."

David exhibited surprise, even shock. "You do? You go to school at Manhattan?"

"Yeah, that's right." Then, in a rush: "I really like Adele—she's fabulous! We've gotten to be, um, really really close. And I like Jenna too."

David gave a broken smile. Kristen almost thought he was going to burst into tears. "That's great. Adele's a fabulous girl."

Kristen noted that David said nothing about Jenna.

The two lapsed into silence again. Kristen was coming to realize that this whole business was going to be a bit more difficult than she had expected.

"She's living with us now," Kristen blurted out.

David again betrayed surprise. "Who is? Adele?"

"Yeah. And Jenna too."

"Jenna?"

David exclaimed. "How on earth did that happen?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story. But both of them are there now in our house, with my parents and my brother and—"

And this guy named Curt who's gotten real fond of your daughter.

David was having trouble taking it all in. "You're—all together in one house?"

"Yeah," Kristen said with a sheepish grin. "It's getting a bit crowded, but we all get along real well."

"I suppose that's fine," David said, shaking his head in disbelief. It seemed as if David was on the verge of saying something—maybe something like

Jenna's kind of a hard person to live with

—but he remained quiet.

"I don't really know why you're here, though," he went on. "I mean, I think it's wonderful that you and Adele are such good friends, and it's also nice that Jenna is in a household where she seems to fit in. But—"

He didn't need to say the rest.

What does this have to do with me?

Kristen suddenly sat down in the chair facing David's desk.

"You see," she said with incredible intensity, staring right at the man across from her, "we've all gotten really close.

Really

close, if you know what I mean."

David just gazed back at her. At first his look was blank; then a kind of wide-eyed astonishment came over his features. "You—you're not really saying what I think you're saying, are you?"

"I am, sir," Kristen said primly.

"Meaning what, exactly?" David said, now glaring at her like a prosecuting attorney cross-examining a hostile witness. "Are you saying Jenna and your father—?"

"Yup," she said with sudden cheerfulness.

"And—and your mother doesn't mind?"

"Nope."

"And"—David became even more aghast—"your brother and Jenna?"

"You bet."

"Jesus Christ."

"And I may as well tell you, Adele's fallen for this guy named Curt. He's a football player at Lorimer, like my brother."

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Curt and Adele?"

"Uh-huh."

"And . . . what about him and Jenna?"

"Um, yes, sometimes."

"And your mom?"

"Yeah."

She cuddles up with each of the guys also.

"And—and you?"

"Yes."

"Holy mother of God," David breathed.

Then he did something Kristen didn't expect. She could have imagined him, at this point, shouting his outrage to the high heavens, berating her for living in some "den of iniquity," or even threatening to call the police, since he had presumably figured out—or at least suspected—that relations between Kristen and her father and Paul and his mother were a bit more intimate than in most cases.

But instead, he started to laugh.

It was a peal of infectious, overwhelming hilarity that caused him to stand up and give a little dance behind his desk. Kristen could see actual tears of laughter falling from his eyes, just as she herself began to chuckle and then guffaw almost as loudly as he.

"That's some family you've got!" he cried, wiping away the tears.

"Yeah, I guess it is," she said between chortles.

Then she suddenly got serious.

"But she misses you," she said heavily.

David stopped short, and his laughter came to an abrupt halt.

"Who misses me?" he said sharply. "Adele?"

"Well, sure, she does. But I meant Jenna."

There was a huge and deafening silence.

David collapsed back into his chair, suddenly deflated.

"No, she doesn't," he said flatly. "She hates me. No, it's worse than that: she has

contempt

for me."

"No way!" Kristen cried. "That's not right at all."

"You don't know what happened. You don't know what she said to me when we were breaking up."

"Oh, people say all kinds of things they don't mean when they're in that situation. Look, she was married to you for—what, fifteen years or more?"

David nodded absently.

"And most of those years were good, weren't they?"

"I suppose.

I

thought so, anyway."

"I'm sure she did too. I think she just got—dissatisfied."

"It was more than that," David said, not sure why he was confiding so readily in a young woman he hardly knew. "She changed—right after we got married. I've never seen anything like it. And yet, she

didn't

change. I could never figure her out."

"Maybe I could help with that," Kristen said significantly.

David gaped at her. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Listen, do you have any appointments for the rest of the day?"

"No."

"And is that secretary of yours inclined to pop her head in here unannounced?"

"Not usually."

"Well," Kristen said as she stood up and positioned herself in the middle of the room, "I'm going to give you some lessons in how to please a woman like Jenna."

And with that, she started to undress.

David, initially incredulous at what was happening in front of his own eyes, said: "God, what do you think you're doing? You can't—"

"Look, guy," Kristen said, having shed her blouse and skirt, "you just need a few tips, that's all. There are certain things that Jenna likes to do that, um, well, you didn't do so well—or at all. I think I can help with that."

And she matter-of-factly removed her bra and panties and stood in front of this new acquaintance of hers, totally naked.

David gasped at the incredible sight before his eyes. He had always had a partiality for slender women—not that Jenna or even Adele were in any way displeasing to him, even on a purely physical basis, but the kind of girlish figure that Kristen was now exposing was just about his ideal of feminine loveliness.

Kristen knew that she was luscious and tempting; that would only help in giving this guy some much-needed instruction! Arms at her hips, she said severely:

"I've been led to understand that you don't care for the procedure known as cunnilingus."

David actually licked his lips as he heard the words, although he didn't seem to realize what he was doing.

"Oh, I like it well enough," he said in a shaky voice. "It's just that . . ." He was unable to finish.

"What?" Kristen pressed.

A blush went up from David's neck all the way up to his forehead. "It's kind of embarrassing," he muttered.

"David, I think we're way beyond that point."

"Okay." Wiping some perspiration from his forehead, he went on clumsily: "Well, you see, it's like this. . . . I—I guess I don't like—"

Kristen was quick on the uptake. "The smell and the taste?"

"Yeah."

She scowled at him, as if he'd delivered a personal insult. But then she tried to be understanding. "Okay, I get that. But I have it on real good authority"—

my brother and my father, to be exact—

"that every woman's pussy tastes different, sometimes totally different."

Striding boldly toward him and plumping herself on his desk, her legs spread, she said: "Maybe you'll like mine better."

David peered intently at Kristen's sex. He could see that it was already a little wet, and he licked his lips again. Then, looking up pleadingly at her face while he fiddled with his groin, he said:

"Um, do you mind if I get more comfortable?"

"Be my guest," Kristen said casually.

Disregarding the elderly gorgon in the other room, David stripped naked in a matter of seconds. Kristen noted with pleasure and amusement that his underwear was severely distorted by his burgeoning cock, and it gave a kind of tremor once it had been freed of its artificial encumbrance.

Then he almost lunged at Kristen, falling to his knees and burying his head in her delta. At first he rubbed his face over the fine down of her pubic hair, then he tentatively addressed her sex, parting her labia with his fingers and giving her clitoris a few hesitant flicks of the tongue.

"Be more decisive, guy!" Kristen cried.

He didn't need to be told twice. He now used lips and tongue to stimulate her to the best of his ability, also grabbing as much of her bottom as he could—which, to his dismay, wasn't much, given that she was firmly seated on the hard wooden surface of the desk. Kristen arched her neck back as she received his attentions (

not bad, not bad at all!

), but at one point she looked down at him and said: "Stick your tongue inside me—as far as you can go."

David obediently complied, and he seemed to gasp at the pleasure he was giving both her and himself. But then he resumed the stroking of her labia and clitoris, to the point that Kristen was grabbing his head and pressing it almost violently against herself. In a matter of minutes she started to cry out—but then slapped a hand to her mouth to silence herself as best she could. No point in having Juliet make an unauthorized entrance! Even so, some faint squeals and gasps could be heard as her orgasm washed over her.

David pulled his face away a little too fast, and Kristen, still in the throes of her climax, made a mental note to herself to tell him not to do that in future. But he had passed a pretty important test, and she beamed down at him with the approval of a teacher who had just coaxed the right answer out of an otherwise dimwitted student.

"Good boy!" she said between pants. "That was just fine. How'd you like the taste?"

David, licking his lips, said, "Very nice. Wonderful, in fact."

Maybe you'll like Jenna's a little better now,

she thought to herself.

As he flopped back onto his desk chair, she peered intently at his stiff member. He suddenly got self-conscious and covered it with his hands.

"Come on, guy," she chided. "You're next."

He gave her a plangent look and said, "It's kind of small."

Kristen was amused at the remark.

Gee, that's just what I keep saying about my breasts.

But she peremptorily pried his hands away from his cock and said, "Hmmm, I'd say that's about six or seven inches. Not bad at all. Above average, in fact. You have nothing to worry about."

And with that, she slid her butt off the desk and, in a single motion, dropped herself onto his lap. Luckily, the chair didn't have any arms, so she could drape her legs on either side of his hips. Taking his member in her hand, she gave him a sharp look and stuffed it into herself.

David watched each inch of it disappear into this young woman whose acquaintance he had only made a few minutes ago. He couldn't have imagined a fantasy as incredible as this reality, and as she wrapped her arms around him while jouncing on his cock, he buried his face in those small but exquisite breasts and, with lips still coated with her own juices, sucked and licked and nuzzled those breasts eagerly while doing his own part to pump her.

Given the stimulation he had already had, it wasn't surprising that he came forcefully in a matter of minutes. Kristen gratefully received his copious emission as the natural consequence of her own desirability, and she continued to keep that cock firmly embedded in her until it finally got soft and slipped out of her.

She got up and, plucking a few Kleenexes from a box on the desk, mopped herself up as best she could. Even so, some of his come trickled down the inside of his thighs, and she found the sensation pleasant enough that she didn't do anything about it.

As she sat down on a corner of the desk, she gazed benevolently on him. "How'd you like that?"

"Great! Fabulous!" he enthused. "One of the best I've ever had."

"Well, maybe there's more to come," she said enigmatically.

More from me, more from Mom, more from Adele, and—especially—more from Jenna.

That simple utterance had an immediate effect. As David continued to stare at this glorious naked creature before him, his cock quivered a little as if in anticipation of whatever else was to come.

"I take it," she said, resuming her schoolmarm mode, "you've had trouble getting it up more than once."

"Yeah," he said lugubriously.

"Well, let's see what I can do about it," she said.

And with that, she fell to her knees in front of him and, surveying that above-average cock, popped it into her mouth. He gasped at the sudden action, peering down at her as if she were an alien from outer space. But when he put his hands on her head and tried to force her to take in more of him than she wanted, she gave him a sharp look and said: "Hey, don't do that! You want me to gag?"

At once he released his hands from her head, letting her go at her own pace.

As a matter of fact, she eventually managed to get nearly the entire cock into her mouth. She had to admit that the process was a lot easier than with the cocks she had been familiar with (Magnus, Paul, and Curt), and in fact she found some satisfaction in getting it down without the usual gagging reflex. Now and then she took it out and, craning her neck, licked his balls; and when she put his entire scrotum into her mouth, he let out a gasp of shock and delight:

Jenna had never done this to me! She said only sluts and whores did that.

When, after some minutes, the cock was suitably hard, she rose to her feet and said: "Let's try something else."

She had previously noticed a small bottle of hand lotion on the far corner of David's desk and figured that would do. Placing some dollops of it on her fingers, she gave him a keen look and lubricated her bottom suitably.

Once again David gaped. "Jenna—she wouldn't let me do that to her! I asked her over and over again when we were married, but she always said no."

"Well, guy," Kristen said, "she thinks a little differently now."

Keeping David in his chair, she approached him with her back to him. First she sat down on his lap; then she reached behind herself and took his stiff cock in one hand; then she rose up a little and placed it carefully into her anus. After all the times she had done this with the three men in the house, she felt no pain in the procedure; but she still wanted his entry to be slow and careful, and she figured she'd better handle it herself.

This allowed David to watch—just as he had done a few minutes ago, when he had entered her other orifice—his cock disappear into that once-forbidden place inch by inch. Once he was firmly ensconced in her, she began rocking on his cock as he took her by the hips, sometimes reaching up to seize her breasts. Her actions eventually got him all the way in her, and both revelled in the sensation. In a stroke of genius, David reached a hand down to her sex and began stroking it just as his own second climax was approaching; and when it did come, he not only had the satisfaction of pouring his seed deep into her anus but in soliciting a shuddering orgasm in her as well.

She remained sitting on him, his cock still stuffed in her bottom, for several minutes. She liked this feeling a lot, and David wasn't in any mood to object. In fact, when she finally pulled out, he felt a kind of deflation such as he hadn't experienced for years, perhaps decades.

As she once again cleaned herself up with some Kleenex, he fixed his eyes on her. Strange sounds seemed to be coming out of his throat, and she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Something the matter, guy?" she said.

She wasn't expecting his reaction. He burst into tears.

Kristen felt a surge of pity and sympathy for this man, who was obviously lonely (probably as lonely as her own father had been when Imogen left him) and who was now overwhelmed at the emotional and physical stimulation he had just experienced. Without delay she slid onto his lap once again, cradling his head between her breasts. He clung to her with the desperation of misery, wrapping one arm around her waist and with the other gripping one breast as if it was some kind of life preserver. Perhaps for the first time, Kristen gained a first-hand awareness of the healing power of a woman's breasts, and she felt strangely maternal even as she reflected that, chronologically, she could have been his daughter.