Desiree Femme Ch 13 15

13

IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT

Chloe peddled her bike home, and her legs felt wobbly. She swerved onto the shoulder of the road and almost smacked the Schwinn into old man Nagy's mailbox. She pumped the peddles, and each time she did, the tip of the saddle seat split her cunny lips and rubbed across her clit. The process of riding was maddening. The girl stopped straddling the seat and wondered if she could fix it. She couldn't put on her panties; Kim had kept them. She studied the seat, and a dirty thought entered her head. The girl turned and grabbed the bicycle seat and tipped it back. The pointy end was now sticking up at an obscene angle. She swung her foot over the crossbar, and the seat tip touched her cunt lips.

In sixteen years, she never had so much as a lude thought, but in the last two hours, she'd orgasmed countless times and questioned everything she knew about her sexuality. She smirked as she lowered her pussy onto the upturned seat.

Kelly was too exhausted to even consider taking a shower. She smelled of girl spunk and lay across the bed spread eagle, face down, snoring.

Richard opened the kitchen door and entered the room with the robot in tow. The situation seemed unreal, and he wondered what Désirée would do all night alone in a room. Should he put it in the guest room? Maybe lock it in the cellar.

He turned to Désirée and was about to direct her to the spare bedroom when it asked, "Where is Kelley? I need to see her." Richard wasn't sure his wife was home.

"Look, Désirée, I need to rest, and I think it's time for you to recharge." The android's battery was a 110-volt plug-in. You should stay in the spare room tonight." Désirée nodded and followed him up the stairs.

Richard was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had covered his naked wife and crept under the covers, not that he would have wakened Kelly. She slept in a deep snoring coma, and he was soon to follow. His last thought was that this had to be brought under control. He wasn't unhappy, though; Kelly finally wanted sex, and that certainly changed everything.

Richard didn't often have dreams, at least ones he could remember. Tonight was different; the images that scalded his mind emerged as a replay of the day's bizarre scenes in his sleep. He dreamed that Désirée was controlling him and everyone else, and the sole reason for this was sexual. The visage became more specific, and he saw the android making love to his wife, and her hedonistic response was molten and disgusting.

The android had strapped his beautiful wife to the headboard and alternately lashed at her tits and cunt with its tongue until Kelly begged in hoarse whispers for more.

"Ah, Yes, that's it. Flick my clit. More! Harder!" His wife's tone was one of insistent desperation as Désirée knelt over and slobbered her tits and clit with her ruthless tongue.

"Is this what you want, honey?" Désirée asked tauntingly as the robot whipped the woman's clitoris raw. Kelly arched into the assault, and what she said next made Richard experience a sleep state hardon.

"Fuck my cunt; put your tongue in my pee hole!" Kelly's whimpers were insistent and demanded obedience. The robot's tongue clapper was long, longer than ever, and looked to be over

twelve inches. Kelly strained against the restraints and begged for Désirée to jam its wicked tongue in anywhere it would fit.

Richard saw the scene in remarkable clarity, and the android's fingers were embedded in his wife's perfect tits, spreading the nipples and making them appear an inch wide. Désirée leaned into Kelly's quim, and the robotic lips were suctioning, creating a super pump vacuum. Kelly was no longer quietly begging her master for completion as the pleading gathered force.

"In my cunt! Up my pisser! Stick it in! Stick it in my piss hole! Shoot it! Zap it! Fucking turn on the juice!" Kelly was desperate, and the sounds were too real. When Richard opened his eyes, the scene made his cock inflate like an emergency life raft. His only thought was,

Oh fuck! Here we go again.

Désirée turned and straddled Kelly in a sixty-nine position, and his no longer frigid wife took the robotic clit, which was longer than ever, into her throat and chewed. Richard rolled over and stared at the lurid couple. What had he created? He jacked his boner, which was so huge that he couldn't fit his hand even halfway around it. Désirée pounded Kelly's throat, and the woman, who up to three days ago wouldn't touch his penis, didn't gag. Her hips bucked up to meet Désirée's snake tongue.

Désirée was fully charged, and the shocks in Kelly's cunt blasted her into orbit as the electricity scorched her G-spot. Kelly convulsed as the rocket launch rushed through her. Richard had jacked his cock no more than ten strokes when his climax sprayed out in a torrent of spurts. Désirée was not to be left out of the party and leaned into the giant rod, grabbed it, and finished masturbating him. That was the cue for Désirée to fire her orgasm along with its cum, soaking Kelly's head, pillow, and headboard. Kelly grunted around the mammoth clitty as the synthetic pussy spewed turbulent and eternal.

The last thing Richard remembered before he passed back into his sleep coma was the android slipping its cum coated fingers into

Kelly's perfect ass and the unintelligible moans she mumbled around the girl's dick.

Chloe slowly sat on the upturned bicycle seat, and it spread her young cunt obscenely. She was changing fast, and the life she had once led was no longer her reality. She rode the bike toward home, pumping the pedals and her pussy until the pre-cum wetness splattered on the ground. The night air felt good against her clit, and she peddled toward orgasm. Chloe didn't ask herself what was happening anymore; she knew. It simplified things to realize she was no more than an orgasm junkie. As the girl approached her house, visions of her brother's prick and the spanking that forced the cream spurt roiled in her head. She was curious; did he like being brutalized? How did his stuff taste? How would his dick feel in her dirty place? Chloe had plans for the fourteen-year-old. She wanted her brother to cram his respectable eight-inch boner in her hole; she wanted to experience those sinful feelings again. She wanted to cum, and Caleb's cock was the ticket to ride the orgasm choo-choo.

These visions made her sit deeper onto the seat end, and her pussy lips were spread so far it felt like they would rip open, but still, she pressed harder.

The orgasm hit as she reached her front lawn, and it forced her to lose her balance and fall over, the seat impaling her twat. She lay on the grass, shivering in the aftershocks. The seat was soaked, and cum dripped down her legs, soaking her socks and sneakers. When Chloe stood up, she had one mission: to find her brother and lick the frosting off his boy-beater.

Judy finally made it home without playing with herself and stood at the kitchen sink washing the bulbs. She hastily plugged them in to charge them up. She stared at the bulbs and counted five. One was missing, and she thought back to the confusion of the evening. There was no doubt in her mind that one was still bivouacking in Kim's

cunt. She hoped the charge would last until the following day when she returned to the shop and toyed with the manager while she worked.

On Lisa's trip home, the whirlwind of her thoughts was of Robin Connolly's perfect ass and the anal play she was into. Even after the wreckage left by the multiple orgasms, she craved the perverted episodes. She wanted to feel Robin's tongue slither into her cornhole. She would get that and more.

Chloe left her bike on the front lawn and, wobbling up the porch steps, entered the house. Leaving things on the lawn was against the rules, but the girl was too far gone to care about such trivial things. Her father would put the bike away and scold her.

The TV was on, and her Mom and Dad sat in recliners watching the evening news, and they seemed transfixed, almost hypnotized. Chloe tip-toed past the opening. She silently climbed the stairs and walked to her brother's bedroom door.

Bob rose from his recliner and checked the house. Ellie sat on the couch as her vagina pulsed and thrummed. She didn't understand what was happening to her, but something on the nightly news triggered the oddest feelings in her kitty, and she wanted to pet it. This would be a perfect night to masturbate in the bathroom. She thought about her purchases from the sex shop on Lake Avenue.

Chloe listened at her brother's closed bedroom door; she could hear music softly playing. The girl paused, wondering how to proceed. She had to do this right and not spook her brother. After an inordinately long wait, the sister gently knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" Her brother answered.

"It's me, Caleb. Let me in." The door opened a crack to verify this. He was wearing his bathrobe, and Chloe could see the lump at his crotch. She smirked; this was going to be easier than she thought. She wondered how many times her brother jerked off each day; was

it twice, three times, or more? His usual routine was that he fantasized about her when he played with his boner? The girl entered the room, and her brother softly closed the door, his imagination running wildly.

"I want to talk to you." She asked as innocently as possible; all the while, her cunt drummed in a constant military rhythm. Caleb looked at his most potent fantasy, his sister. She was perfect in every way. He jerked his stick at least twice a day, thinking about the visions of her luscious body he stored in his brain from the day he peeked in the bathroom window; when that failed to get the job done on the third or fourth wank, he used the up-skirt peeps of his mother. That was the hook that never failed him. He used his phone to take sneak pictures of his Mom as she bent over doing housework, and her girdle drove him mad.

"About what?" Caleb seemed antsy. He was just about to blow his nuts when the knock interrupted him mid-stroke. He tried to consciously will his cock to deflate as Chloe entered his bedroom, but it was no good; his sister was too close. He could smell a faint odor clinging to her, and it was sweet and alluring; she was his primary fantasy for his flogging sessions, and the fact that she stood inches away from his vulcanized cock was too much for him to bear. She stood so close Caleb thought he could touch her with his boner if he opened his robe and turned ever so slightly.

Chloe's cunt felt as if hot chocolate had been poured onto it, and the situation intensified her horniness to a level she'd not experienced. She could feel her pussy and clitty twitch and her sphincter spasm. She smiled at her brother and glanced at the bump in his robe.

"Nothing much; I just wondered what you were doing up here all night," she teased; she knew damn well what he was doing. She inched closer to him, and the bulge in his robe almost touched her thigh. "I need you to look at something." She stared into his blue eyes. "There is some swelling, and I need you to check it out."

Caleb had been on the verge of shooting his spunk when his sister knocked, and his cock drooled in his robe.

Sheesh, she is gorgeous,

he thought, and accidentally moved closer so the bulge actually touched her leg. That did it; the mere contact of his pecker touching Chloe's leg triggered his ejaculation, and he convulsed, his head mashing her tits. Chloe was not to let an opportunity such as this go to waste, and, holding him in a headlock against her boobs, ripped open his robe and grabbed his cock. She missed the first spurt, but the eight or so that followed burped into her palm.

"Arrrg, Oh Fuck! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He was embarrassed beyond words. He just came in his sister's hand.

Chloe leaned toward him, not releasing his cum hydrant, and whispered so softly he almost couldn't hear through the ringing in his ears.

"Did you cum good," as the cock jumped in her palm. What his sister did next made Caleb question whatever religious inhibitions he had been brought up with. She raised the spunk load to her mouth and slurped it down. "Mmmm," she hummed. His penis was still so stiff he thought it would jump out of its skin. Chloe finished cleaning her hand and resumed stroking the prong.

"Do you want to see mine?" She whispered and then tongued his ear. He did want to see it; he had always wanted to see it. Chloe slowly, almost demurely, lifted her skirt, exposing her teen slit, which glistened in the lamplight.

The nightly news was over, and Bob Kovacs was locking up for the evening. He opened the front door, looked around, did a last check, and shook his head. Chloe's bike lay in the grass in the front yard. He was the town minister, and the yard had to look perfect. Bob walked to the bike, shaking his head; he would have to have another talk with his daughter. He picked up the bike and noticed the seat turned up at an unusual angle. No one could ride it like this. He grabbed the end and straightened it. The seat was wet and hadn't

dried in the cool night air. Bob looked at his palm, which was slicked with something, but what? He raised his palm and sniffed. It was the oddest smell; he knew that odor but couldn't place it. He put the bike in the garage and, just for good measure, smelled the seat close up. This was strange.

If I didn't know any better

, he mused. He had smelled the odor before, but it had been so long since he had made love to his wife that the memory escaped him. He closed the garage door and puttered around while thinking about the odd odor. This was going to be one of those nights, and he opened the bottom drawer of his tool chest and took out the porno mag.

The magazine was a lurid study of gay sex. Bob stood in the garage and looked at the male lovers; he never got tired of these pictures. Eventually, he would rub his cock until it shot a load in his hand, and he would slurp it off as he panted and waited for his heart to calm. He thought about his life choices and rued the day he became a minister. He wanted a man and thought about it by day and dreamed about it by night and lived a life of denial without any real, satisfying sex. He wished Ellie was a man. That would be perfect.

Ellie Kovacs was a good wife, as far as ministers' wives went, and one heck of an organist. Her life was full of the church's goings on and didn't leave her much time to think about extracurricular activities. Sex with her husband, Bob, fell into that category. Her busy schedule kept the sexual frustration suppressed to a low simmer, and she attempted to pass this attitude of

no sex

on to her children, thus justifying her celibacy. She remembered the day she barged into the bathroom looking for laundry and caught Caleb masturbating. She dragged him off the toilet, pants around his ankles, and picking up her oak yardstick, walloped him good. Masturbation was a sin; all sex was. It surprised her as her son's cock wouldn't deflate as she tried to beat the devil out of him. It also surprised her that he ejaculated all over the kitchen cabinets as his sister watched, enthralled. The spectacle made the mother blow off

a cum load in her girdle along with him, not to mention triggering the most intense mauling sessions in her cunt for days afterward. Thank God she was wearing the Lycra panties, and the ejaculate didn't leak out onto the floor. As disturbing as this turn of events was, it thrilled her, and she fell into a religious nightly ritual. After Bob was asleep, Ellie would sneak into the bathroom and rub her clit until her vagina spasmed. It was better than sleeping pills.

Chloe pulled on her brother's cock. It was the very first and only one she had touched, and she remembered the day he shot his creamy goo to the smacks on his ass as Mom whipped his butt with a stick. She sank to her knees, wanting to get a close-up look at the incredible boner. It lurched and strained as she held the base.

"Fuck! Chloe. That feels nice." This was the first time anyone other than he had touched his thermometer, and he felt his mercury rise again. Chloe pulled on the prong and watched as the foreskin buckled back on the downstroke. Drops of his laundry load dripped from the tip, and, in a come-to-Jesus moment of inspiration, she dabbed the drooling slit with her tongue. Caleb's hands were on the back of her head, and he pushed her mouth forward, trying to stick the eight-incher in her mouth. Chloe had no problem with that as she clamped her lips around the crown and vacuumed the tip, trying to get every drop out of her brother's pogo stick as he thrust his hips forward.

Chloe had heard about blow jobs but had never seen one. Her girlfriend Sally Dobbins was the resident expert, or so everyone in the high school whispered behind her back. She explained the process in great detail, which seemed disgusting to Chloe. Why would anyone want someone to pee in their mouth? It all made a sort of sense to her now as her mouth opened and Caleb's cock slid into her throat. The first deep jab made her gag, and she spit up a glob of slime; it leaked from the corners of her lips. After that, it was easier as she relaxed her throat and let the dick slide in until his soft pubes tickled her nose. Caleb grunted as his sister assaulted his

wang. She wanted to tell him to hush but had been taught not to talk when her mouth was full.

Ellie made her way up the stairs. She was unbelievably horny. Bob wasn't there and would be useless even if he was. When she passed her son's room, she heard a sound.

"UGH!"

She wondered if he was jerking his meat again. Wasn't the last lesson enough to teach him to leave his cock alone? What she heard next weren't masturbation sounds.

"Do it, Sis! Come on, take it all, suck it!" Ellie was stunned. This could only mean one thing; her daughter was blowing her son. She had the memories of the massive cock as she envisioned it in her daughter's mouth; it made her swoon in the hall. Caleb's penis was way bigger than her husband's. She visualized the cock sliding into her daughter's mouth. How had this happened right under her nose? How could Chloe, her only daughter, be so vile and suck a penis? The time Bob begged her to do the deed for him was awful as she flatly refused to perform the disgusting act. Ellie thought of how she came in a torrent as she beat her son's ass, how his sperm spewed in spurt after spurt; she lifted her nightgown and cupped her mound. Her cunt was slicked as never before, and Ellie rubbed her finger into the slash.

"Suck it, Chloe, that's it; oh God, I'm gonna come again." Ellie wondered what this 'again' stuff was. "Take it; swallow it all." Ellie was beside herself and jackhammered her clit in a rhythm that would have shattered cement. She was unbearably close as her woman cum built. She waited for her son's explosion; she knew it would be soon and wanted to ejaculate with him; it was so wrong. Her young stud popped his nuts and barked, and Ellie was sure it could be heard in the kitchen. "Fuck!"

That was the cue Ellie was waiting for, and her cunt jerked, sending a load of ladyfinger spume onto the hall carpet. She leaned against the door with a thud.

The teenagers looked up at the sound. "What the fuck," Caleb mouthed. Chloe reluctantly pulled her mouth off her brother's wang and looked up. She panicked, but only for a moment. It had to be her Mom. The fact that she didn't bust up their repartee led her to realize that maybe Mom had urges of her own, too. This would change things considerably, and Chloe slowly opened the door. The hall was empty, and Chloe wondered if her mother was in her bedroom masturbating. She noticed the wetness on the hall carpet; yeah, she was definitely masturbating.