My Loving Family

Synopsis: Pete and Sarah have a threesome with one of Sarah's "regulars."

Part III - Our Story

Chapter Eighteen

The first thing Sarah said the next morning as we sat down to eat breakfast was, "God, I feel like I was fucked by a Marine regiment! My pussy still feels stretched out of shape!"

Then she looked at me. "Paul asked me last night if we could get together again tonight?"

Honestly, I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I was still suffering what I think was a small emotional hangover, but on the other, remembering the intense eroticism I had felt as I watched my beloved impale herself on Paul's massive member, my cock evidently had other ideas, and it twitched as if to remind me of that fact. Still, I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of an encore. "Tell you what," I said slowly, "suppose we try something different."

Seeing the expression on Sarah's face, I quickly added, "I know how you feel toward Paul, and I respect that. I was merely going to suggest we go for broke.

"Let's invite him over here," I said. "We can have a dinner catered in -- or, I could even fix my world famous Mulligan stew. There's no reason we should waste a lot of time and money in a fancy restaurant when we all know the purpose of the evening is to enjoy as much sex as possible."

While my suggestion was almost an attempt to be flippant, it suddenly made a lot of sense. I knew I'd be more comfortable in my home surroundings and that the chance of the sort of intimacy I had found disturbing in the taxi the previous night was unlikely to be repeated here.

Sarah looked doubtful, but she was a good sport about it. "Do you think you'd be more comfortable here?"

I nodded. The more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

"OK, then," Sarah said, "but no Mulligan stew! Let's have a nice dinner catered in. I'll arrange it at the office. You might spend a few minutes picking things up around here so the place is halfway presentable."

Alas, the best laid plans . . . Sarah called shortly after noon. "Paul won't be able to make it. He's already left for his home office."

I can't say I shared the disappointment I heard in Sarah's voice, but I tried to console her. "There's always a next time, dear . . ."

As it turned out, if Paul had been able to come to dinner, things might have become a little sticky. Willa, who had become an almost constant companion to Karen, unexpectedly came home almost immediately after dinner (I had fixed Mulligan stew, after all). Sarah was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I was very surprised to see Willa standing in the hall.

"Where's your key?"

She smiled apologetically. "I couldn't find it in this mess." She held up a crowded key ring. "I know it's there somewhere, but I was afraid that if you heard me trying every key until I found it, that you might have thought burglars were at the door!"

She followed me into the apartment and went directly into the kitchen. It was obviously time for some girl talk. I heard the low murmur of voices over the sound of the dish washer. After several minutes, Willa and Sarah came into the living room where I was reading the evening paper.

"Pete, Willa has a proposition for us. Hear what she has to say. I think she makes pretty good sense."

Sarah sat on the couch while Willa chose the chair directly across from mine. She came right to the point. "Pete, something has come up and I think maybe you and Sarah might be the solution."

She paused as if collecting her thoughts. I waited for the rest of it. "Karen had a check bounce this afternoon." She paused again, as if waiting for my comment.

"That's the way things happen, sometimes," I said philosophically.

"You don't understand, Pete. She's broke and she's terrified. All she owns is the house and part of the cabinet shop which hasn't been doing so hot lately. Apparently what money they had was spent on medical bills and David's funeral. The son-of-bitch who ran into them is dead and it turns out he didn't have any insurance. I know what it's like to be broke!

"Karen doesn't know I'm over here talking to you two -- she'd have a hissy if she did. She's planning to go to the bank tomorrow and take out a mortgage on her house -- but with her scars, her modeling career is over, and she really has no way of paying off any mortgage she might get."

I started to ask what she thought we could do, but she silenced me by holding up her hand. Sarah spoke for the first time. "Let her finish, Pete."

"I got this brainstorm this afternoon. The Olerud house is a regular mansion. I know you've been over there plenty of times, but I'll bet you haven't seen the whole thing. There are at least six, maybe seven closed rooms upstairs that are sealed shut. The radiators in those rooms have been shut off and drained so they won't freeze. The same thing with the entire third floor. That's a lot of empty space. . ."

I was beginning to see where she was going. "You want us to give up the apartment and move into Karen's house? Is that the idea?" I thought Willa was going to kiss me.

"Well, yes," she said hesitantly. "But not all at once. I'm not at all sure how Karen would take it if you put it to her like that. She's a very proud woman and I'm sure would react badly if she thought for one minute that you were offering her charity. My idea is that Pete and Rick, both being carpenters, might suggest converting some of that house into an apartment --God knows it's big enough.

"Actually, half of Rick's family already lives there, but that's a different problem. One they'll have to settle. What do you think, Pete?"

"It does make sense," I said slowly. "How do you feel, sweetheart?" I asked turning toward Sarah.

"Like you, Pete, I think it's an interesting idea."

I turned back to Willa. "Where do we take it from here?"

"Maybe this would be a good time to see if Rick might be interested. I know he's a stubborn Mick, but this could give him an indirect way of reclaiming his family."

I nodded. "OK," I said. "I'll mention it to Rick tomorrow while we're having lunch, and see how he reacts."

"I knew I could count on you two!" Willa said happily, The first thing I knew, Willa was sitting on my lap, both arms around my neck, her hot mouth fastened hungrily to mine.

It had been a long time since I had held Willa in my arms, but all my cock knew was that a hot and apparently willing female was squirming on my lap.

"It looks as if we might have a threesome after all," Sarah said in my ear as her clever hand insinuated itself between Willa's excited ass and my lap. "My, what DO we have here?"

As if it had a mind of its own, my right hand automatically cupped Willa's left breast, testing its resiliency and weight while my thumb pressed against her nipple.

"That feels so good, Pete," she whispered, reaching around to kiss me again. "You have no idea how good a man's hand feels."

Her slight emphasis on the word "man's" reminded me that her most recent sex partners -- at least those I knew about -- were Rick's youngest son -- and possibly even his older brother (when Ruthie wasn't looking).

Truth be told, I really had no idea who was fucking whom in that household, but I was certain both young men had all the nooky they could handle. The image of a boy young enough to be Willa's son shoving his stiff young cock into her eager cunt -- and Sarah's patient manipulation -- was causing my cock to expand uncomfortably in my pants.

"I don't mean to be impolite, Willa, but you're getting awfully heavy. . ."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pete. I felt Sarah's hand under my ass, but I had no idea I might be maiming you!" Yeah, sure.

Sarah stood. "I think we all have too many clothes on for comfort. What say we all peel down a little?"

Willa nodded happily and quickly reached behind herself to unbutton her skirt's waist band. Then, after lowering the zipper, she slid her skirt down and stepped out of it. She carefully folded it and laid it across the back of her chair. Then she began unbuttoning her blouse.

Sarah, meantime, had stepped out of her dress and was reaching behind her to release the clasp on her bra strap. "I know where it's more comfortable," she said, turning and running into our bedroom.

I never tire of watching any woman's tits bounce, quiver and sway as they move, and watching Willa's somewhat more pendulous bare breasts bob and sway as she followed Sarah, my cock grew even harder. I quickly kicked off my loafers, and slid my pants and boxers down and off. I pulled my t-shirt off and followed my hard cock which was pointing straight ahead as Willa disappeared into the bedroom.

By the time I caught up with the women, they were already clinging tightly together. Sarah was gently stroking Willa's face while hungrily feasting on her lips with her open mouth. Willa's arms were tightly wound around Sarah's restless body, holding her in a tight bear hug. Both women had their eyes closed.

My cock stirred as I watched Sarah's knee part Willa's legs. Since both women were lying on their sides, Willa had to lift her leg to give Sarah's thigh access to her doubtlessly very wet pussy. Sarah raised her leg and Willa began humping it much as a mongrel pup I had as a kid used to hump my leg.

I was torn. Like most men, I find it arousing and exciting to watch women make love, but at the same time, my cock would not be denied, not within sight and smell of two women in heat. I slid onto the bed spoon fashion behind Willa and reaching around her body, worked my hand between the women's warm, pliant breasts which were mashed tightly together.

I cupped Willa's breast. Her aroused nipple felt like a small stone against my palm, while Sarah's hard nipple teased the back of my hand. I worked my bottom leg under Sarah's and scooted as close as possible to Willa's back, so my extended cock rested snugly between her ass cheeks. Then I began slowly dry fucking her soft ass cheeks.

"Wait a minute," Willa's voice was muffled. She arched her back, tilting her ass toward me. Realizing what she had in mind, I pulled back, giving her more room to maneuver.

As I readjusted myself, I discovered the tip of my cock had already found Willa's back door. I gave a gentle forward thrust, and felt my glans pop inside her anal sphincter muscle.

Other than a soft grunt, and a subtle squat against me, Willa gave no indication I had penetrated her. She continued rubbing her pussy against Sarah's thigh. Meanwhile, I was holding her hips, trying to work my cock more deeply into her bowels. Then, having reached as deeply as I could, I began a slow thrusting motion.

Forgetting Sarah's thigh, Willa began pushing back against my invading cock. I think perhaps Sarah then realized what was going on because she withdrew her leg, replacing it with her hand. At the same time, she sucked one of Willa's breasts into her mouth.

It was a powerfully erotic feeling -- one I hadn't experienced before -- to feel Sarah's active fingers against my pecker through the thin membrane inside Willa, separating her cunt from her rectum. At the same time, Sarah managed to cup her hand so at the end of each inward thrust, my balls rested in her hand.

This triple stimulation, plus the overheated condition I was in at the beginning, all combined to shorten my fuse, and long before I was ready, and despite a desperate mental recitation of the national hockey standings, I felt the beginning of a monumental tidal wave of an ejaculation building in my loins, and before I knew it, I had Willa's waist in a death grip as I attempted to thrust my entire body into her hot rectum.

With enormous relief, I felt my seed explode from my straining cock in a series of huge spasms. Almost immediately, my cock began to deflate, and when Willa shifted her weight, I slid ignobly out of her.

Sarah raised her head. "Go wash that thing off and then you can come do me," she said.

Always obedient to commands like that, I hurried into the bathroom and gave myself a thorough wash in the sink. When I returned, it was Willa's turn. She quickly stood and ran into the bathroom.

Sarah was sitting up, leaning against the headboard. "Well, what do you think?"

"About doing you?"

"No, silly -- about Willa's idea."

"Do you think she was serious?"

"Absolutely. And I've been thinking, Pete. . ."

"What about?"

"I hate to admit it, but to tell the truth, I was kind of relieved when Paul was called home early."

"Oh?" I was secretly cheering, but I was careful to hide it. "Why?"

"This isn't an easy thing for a woman to admit, dear, but I'm afraid I may be getting too old to comfortably take on a man with Paul's size and stamina. Of course, I know only too well how unusual his size is, but I felt like hell this morning, and that's one of nature's warning signs.

"I've been thinking about it all day, and to be completely honest, I'm not sure I still have what it takes to continue much longer as a company hostess. The mine won't begin paying off for at least a year, and you're not making a lot of money at the cabinet shop."

"You mean we're broke?"

"Of course not! But looking ahead, I don't think my salary will let us keep this apartment much longer, so if we have to move, why not join forces with Karen? She can evidently use the money . . ."

Just then, Willa emerged from the bathroom. "I don't know what you put in me, Pete, but it's acting like a great big enema. Ooops, here I go again!" She quickly ran back into the bath.

"Now where were we?" I asked.

"Well, how would you feel, Pete? Isn't it every man's dream to be surrounded all the time by at least three hot and willing females? Maybe we could expand even further -- God knows the house is big enough!"

And that, dear readers, brings us back to the beginning.

It was an adolescent's dream come true. I felt my cock twitch as I gazed fondly around the living room. A half dozen naked and partly dressed people sat in the room with me -- one pair playing chess in the corner, another couple sitting on the couch cuddling and casually touching one another; she stroking his thigh, he idly plucking at an elongated nipple, while my daughter sat curled up in a big easy chair, reading a novel.

Unlike the others, she wore a thin pair of panties which nicely emphasized her beautifully sculpted ass.

Just then Sarah, came in from the kitchen. Her soft breasts shone with a fine perspiration from the heat, and as always, I admired the way they rolled and jiggled as she crossed the room and bent over the couch, casually giving her (our) son-in-law a warm, open mouthed kiss.

His response was immediate and enthusiastic. Even Willa, the woman in his arms, greeted her by reaching up to touch her soft, quivering breast.

I was enjoying the byplay, wondering if it would mean delaying dinner, and was mildly annoyed when my daughter looked up and said, "Hey, Mom, lay off. I thought you were going to do my hair before supper!"

Sarah straightened up and smiled at her daughter. "Sure thing, Nonnie. Let's go to the bathroom."

I watched as my daughter rose to follow her mother. The two women were similar in size and coloration. Although 19 years separated them, and in spite of faint stretch marks on Sarah's belly and breasts, breasts which no longer had the firm resiliency of her daughter's, the only obvious physical difference between the two was that while Sarah's pubic bush was lush and as colorful as the hair on her head, Nonnie's thin panties betrayed the absence of genital hair.

I smiled as I remembered the mild shock I had experienced when, late one night, my probing fingers had encountered only slick smooth skin surrounding my daughter's vulva. When I asked her about it later, she had giggled and said, "So you can tell the difference between me and mom in the dark!"

Karen still had the lithe figure of a professional model, and, as she stood next to one of the chess players, ignoring the scars on her chest and mangled left leg, I took full notice of the delightful contrast between her Nordic good looks, tiny breasts, slender hips and thin, wispy, genital hair shielding her mons like the shadow of a passing cloud (and a tight, tight pussy I knew well), and those of Paula, on whose shoulder her hand now rested.

I had spent many happy hours between Paula's soft thighs, playing with the turgid black spikes that tipped her soft, somewhat pendulous breasts. Even their coloring was almost diametrically opposite, because unlike her husband, who was a redheaded Irishman, June was African-American.

Paula and Rick, like us and Karen, were co-sponsors of our communal home where the only rule was that everyone was free to touch everyone else and that the only constraint on sexual activity was mutual convenience. Clothing was strictly optional.

Author's note: I'd appreciate hearing from you about this or any of my other stories. Most of these yarns are based, at least in part, on various experiences I've had over the years. For instance, Velda, my current wife, and I met at a clothing optional party nearly 30 years ago.