The Infinity Series No. 01

Hello again, Gentle Reader. First, my thanks to PeterCleveland, my pen pal from Literotica who gave me the inspiration for this story. Thank you, Peter, and I look forward to your comments on this one.

I had always envisioned the epigraph, "Once you postulate infinity..." as the opening line of a series of stories dealing with unlikely things that turn out to be real in some place in infinity. This is, actually, the second installment. The vampire story "Lamashtu" was the first but I hadn't labeled it as such because, well, sometimes as I enter my fourth quarter of a century, I just forget things.

As always, if you like this, leave a comment. If you hate it, leave a comment. If you don't care, well, don't. I read every comment, and take many to heart although if you just want to say something like "this is junk," well, I'll pretty much ignore that one.

All characters, of course, are legal adults.

The Infinity Series #1

Lot Redux

"Once you postulate infinity, not only

can

anything you can imagine happen, anything you can imagine

must

happen."

Anonymous

It was inevitable, of course, that what happened on that cold day in 2024 by the

Julian Calendar

would happen. On the third planet from an insignificant sun lost on the edge of a moderately large galaxy, time was not linear. Time was a circle in that particular corner of the universe. What happened to Lot Goldfarb, resident of the benighted town of Jerusalem's Lot, an otherwise insignificant dot on the map called 'Salem's Lot by the locals and given a brief blast of notoriety by a contemporary author of some repute, was as predictable as the tides.

In the event, this is what happened.

Lot Goldfarb grew up in a traditional, conservative Jewish family. He wore his yarmulke unfailingly, you might say "religiously." He recited his passages at his

Bar Mitzvah

without a stumble or mispronunciation. He dressed conservatively although he eschewed the black of those weirdos, the Hasidim. He remained kosher to the extent possible in modern America although he would not deny that bites of pork, especially bacon for which he had a sinful love, crossed his lips from time to time.

Lot had an affinity for music. He couldn't, as the saying goes, "carry a tune in a bucket" with his voice, but his ear was as accurate as the expensive electronic equipment he carried. He apprenticed as a piano tuner, and between his perfect pitch and his delicate touch on the tuning wrenches soon passed from Apprentice to Journeyman to Master. He was much in demand and as a prosperous man, was deemed an appropriate match by Rachel Levin's parents. They married in the full tradition. She was in white, which was appropriate for a 28-year-old Jewish virgin, and he was in black, appropriate for a 30-year-old Jewish groom. They stepped on the glass, were carried around the room on upraised chairs, and later that night, as she laughed and called him old-fashioned, he hung the blood-stained sheet out the window.

Lot arrived in 'Salem's Lot almost by accident. A cousin on his mother's side, a man vaguely remembered, left a house to Lot when he died. The accompanying note explained that Sidney, the now-departed benefactor, was tired of hearing out-of-tune pianos throughout this part of rural Maine and Lot could have the house if he would agree to live in it and tune pianos in the region.

As it happened, Lot and Rachel, and the twin girls, Sarah and Esther, took to small-town living, surprising them both. They fit in with the small Jewish community and found the familial society of the Gentiles to be almost Jewish in its approach to living. Rachel, especially, fit in with the ladies at the daily "sewing circle." The way they shared everyone's secrets fit in with Rachel's love of

lashon hara

, the old Yiddish word that literally translates as "evil tongue" but which Rachel had loved in the city and loved now.

The twins prospered as well. They grew to be pretty in that round-faced way of plump girls verging on fat. They had a great mass of black hair, thick and coarse and very curly, a gift from the genes in their bodies that could be traced to cities with names like Sumer or Babylon, that was worn long. Their eyes were so dark they verged on black, making the sclera (the whites of their eyes) almost artificially bright.

When puberty struck, they blossomed in that way of plump girls the world over. Their menarche came within two days of each other and they were fully synchronized before their pubic hair had fully come in. Their breasts and hips became womanly until they mirrored their mother and that, my friends, is a very good thing indeed if you have a Y chromosome. They were heavy-chested, passing through their training bras deeply into the alphabet until they stabilized at 38D. Their waists were relatively small, and relativity matters in such things, and by the time of the events we will see here, they measured 38-30-40.

By 2024, the world was coming apart. Many believed the biblical prophecies were coming to pass. There had been plagues. There was war in the east. Morality had, demonstrably failed. Things, my friends, were bad.

When the two handsome young men showed up at Lot's front door and claimed to be angels with a message, Lot thought he was blessed. He welcomed them in and as they sat talking, well, as they sat with Lot listening and the two young men talking of the End Times, of what would come next, and warning Lot to take his family and flee 'Salem's Lot, Rachel asked if they would like something to eat or drink.

"A sandwich would be good," the handsome young blonde man said.

"And a beer if you have it," the handsome young dark-haired man said.

Lot didn't miss the look the angels cast on Rachel as she left the room, and he was filled with pride. She was, after all, a lovely woman, deserving looks.

When the pounding on the door started, Lot went, curious, not afraid.

"Who is it that you have in there, Piano Tuner," a man shouted. It was Danny Fredericks, a man Lot knew well, with whom he had shared beers while watching the beloved New England Patriots on TV.

"Why do you call me that?" Lot asked.

"Bring them forth," Danny Fredericks screamed, his face red with rage.

"What?" Lot asked, literally not understanding.

"They are Harbingers," Danny Fredericks screamed, a vein bulging in his forehead so badly Lot feared he might have a stroke.

The crowd had grown by then and half a hundred men were screaming for the blood of the strangers.

"Sarah, Esther, come down here," Lot called up the stairs, and his two obedient, loving daughters, came down the stairs.

"Yes, Father," they asked in that strange unison, a single voice, that only twins can accomplish.

"Please, my darlings," he said, "quiet this crowd."

Sarah kissed him, a light, loving kiss, on the right corner of his mouth.

Esther kissed him, a light, loving kiss, on the left corner of his mouth.

"Of course, Father," they said in unison.

They went out to the crowd, closing the door behind them so their father could resume his conversation.

"Now, Danny Fredericks," Sarah said, "why are you so angry?" Her hands were laying lightly on his chest and she was looking up at him, her lips parted slightly showing off white, straight teeth in a smile that was pure invitation.

"Now, Stanley Grissom," Esther said, "what has you so upset?" Her body was arched so that her breasts pressed against him, her smile was the perfect image of her sisters. Her invitation was obvious.

Danny Fredericks started to respond. "I'm just..." but Sarah cut him off with a kiss and then eased to her knees and started unbuckling his belt.

Stanley Grissom started to respond. "He has..." but Esther cut him off with a kiss and then eased to her knees and started unbuckling his belt.

Danny Fredericks was helpless as he looked down, watching as her full lips got closer to his erection.

Stanley Grissom was helpless as he looked down, watching as her full lips got closer to his erection.

The crowd was silent.

The twins took their men into their mouths, coughed once as their gag reflexes were triggered, swallowed hard, and accepted their men's lengths into their throats.

Danny Fredericks reached his climax first. As Sarah felt him getting closer she gauged his need, his "closeness" if you will, and when the point of no return was passed she pulled off, suddenly, accepting his gift in her hair and on her face. His semen, thick, white, and sticky came in three distinct pumps. The first hit the top of her head, leaving a heavy dripping trail at her forehead that ran slowly down toward her nose. The second hit right between her eyes, whether deliberately or accidentally no one can tell, closing both of her eyes. The third didn't quite reach her face but fell into that delicious cleavage her breasts made.

She barely had time to draw a breath before a second man, Samuel Jefferies if you care about such things, stood before her.

Stanley Grissom finished just a few seconds after Danny Fredericks and the results were similar. Stanley's release was almost clear and watery, but it hit hair and face and cleavage.

Sarah and Esther were servicing their fifth men when the women started arriving.

"Jezebel," screamed Stephanie Main, a very fat woman whose husband had just finished with Sarah.

"Delilah," shrieked Georgia Lester, 75 years old, a whipcord thin woman all bone and sinew, whose grossly fat husband was still pulling up his pants after leaving a small deposit in Esther's cleavage.

"LILITH!!" screamed Martha Morgan, dashing past the men to slap Sarah on the back of the head, upsetting Roger Morgan whose cock was deep in her throat.

That's when the men formed a protective circle around the twins.

Each had their turns with the pretty Jewess's mouth, some more than once, before a voice boomed out.

"STOP THIS!!!"

It was Mrs. O'Neil, the town librarian. She had a first name, no doubt, but no one in town knew what it might be. She was a fixture. More to the point on this day, she was a force of nature. At 5'11" tall she was tall for a woman. At about 230 pounds she was big. She was fat of course, but not in the soft, way of obese women. She was thick and powerful and had the respect of everyone in town, most of whom had been terrorized at one time or another as children for making noise or cutting up in the library. A trauma like that lasts.

Everyone froze.

She walked to where the twins were on their knees, back to back, and the crowd parted before her as if she were Moses crossing the Red Sea.

She grabbed each twin by the hair, Esther in her right fist, Sarah in her left, and pulled them to their feet by main force.

"Is THIS what you want?" she asked, her voice booming across the hubbub of the crowd as she did a slow turn, holding each twin up like a trophy.

"Or do you want THIS?" she cried, her hand moving with an almost supernatural quickness to the back of each twin's collar and yanking hard, popping buttons and leaving them in only their bras and jeans.

"Or do you REALLY want THESE?" she asked, her voice almost conversational now but still carrying across the crowd as she moved with that strange speed again to grab each twin's bra by the thick elastic band at the back and jerking hard enough to tear the seam between the cups, making Esther and Sarah cry out as the material cut into skin.

"Is this it?" Mrs. O'Neil asked, doing another slow turn, her fingers twisting in the twin's hair again now, holding them up like trophies as she put four large breasts tipped with large dark areolas and nipples on display to the crowd.

"You," she said, pointing at Jimmy Lyons, barely older than the twins, "and you," this time selecting Steven Alinson, the high school's Valedictorian this year. "Get them out of those jeans."

The boys set to their tasks with more energy and dedication than was probably warranted and in a minute or so the twins stood naked before the crowd.

Well, not quite naked.

Their virginity was on display in the shiny stainless steel chastity belts they wore, the soft leather pad between their legs providing a bit of modesty and the belt giving their plump bellies a sexy muffin top.

"On your knees, Jew whores," she snapped and Sarah and Esther got to their knees with a grace that suggested practice.

"WELL!!" Mrs. O'Neil said in that voice that carried so well, "Is this what you want?"

Many did, of course, but they had already had their fun and were spent.

"Stone them," cried a voice, it might have been Monica Fredericks, the aforementioned Danny Fredericks wife although no one could ever say for certain, and a rock grazed Esther's forehead.

"ENOUGH of that," Mrs. O'Neil cried in the voice that had quieted rowdy grade-schoolers in the library for two generations.

And just like that, it was over.

The crowd dispersed, very silent, no one talking. They were ashamed.

Sarah and Esther stood and Sarah checked the mark on Esther's forehead where the rock had grazed. There was a bit of a bruise but no blood.

"Well, I guess we're done," Sarah and Esther said in unison.

They went inside.

Rachel was gone.

The two visitors were gone.

And Lot, bless his heart, was laying, naked and drunk, on the floor where he had, evidently, passed out.

"Oooooooooh," Sarah said, kneeling beside her father and touching where he was erect.

"Oooooooooh, Esther said, reaching into her father's pocket and finding his key chain.

"Oooooooooh," Esther said, holding up the keychain by the fine brass key.

"Oooooooooh," Sarah said, her hand holding her father's erection as a smile spread across her face.

"Annddd," Esther said, inserting the tiny brass key into the tiny brass lock that held her chastity belt locked, "I do believe we're ovulating."

"I do believe," Sarah said, inserting the tiny brass key into the tiny brass lock that held her chastity belt locked, "we are."

The twins embraced then, heavy warm breasts pressed against each other, hard nipples touching and pressing each other, mouths locked together in that perfect match of experienced lovers. Their tongues touched and then fenced playfully as their father snored beside them.

"I am going to miss it so much," Esther said, her fingers gently parting her twin's labia and looking at the precious jewel they had saved so carefully, Sarah's intact hymen, a distinct semicircle of tissue right there, on display in the frame of thick, curly pubic hair. Esther bent and kissed it, her tears wetting her cheeks.

"I know," Sarah said, gently parting Esther's nether lips and taking a last, lingering, loving look at her jewel. Then she lifted Esther's clitoral hood and blew gently on that hard, pink button of pleasure. She touched it with her tongue, tasting her sister's nectar, and inhaled deeply, drawing her womanscent deep into her lungs, the pheromones increasing her own arousal.

"One last time as virgins?" Esther asked, her voice husky with her desire.

"One last time as virgins," Sarah agreed, moving around and straddling her sister's body so they could join in the classic "69" position of mutual oral sex.

Their last joining was the best of the hundreds they had enjoyed before. They brought each other along slowly, their understanding of each other's needs more complete than any other couple's could possibly be. They even understood each other's subtle differences.

While Sarah used her tongue, performing analingus on Esther, she was lubricating her as well and when Esther was ready, Sarah slipped her middle finger all of the way into her anus, probing her rectal vault in that way that made Esther squirm and squeal softly.

As Sarah did that, Esther began a steady spanking, hard enough to be something beyond just spicy foreplay, hard enough to hurt and make Sarah cry. It made her squirm and squeal.

They came together, drinking each other's release as they had hundreds of times before, sucking on full nether lips to extend the pleasure.

And so it was that Sarah, the oldest by 12 minutes, with her face and hair matted with the semen of dozens of men, and her sisters love nectar, the thick product of the mucus membranes lining her vagina and the Bartholin's and Skene's glands deeper inside, surrendered her virginity to her father as he lay drunk. She knew in that way only a woman could that his sperm found her egg and their love would result in a child.

"Give him a few minutes," Sarah said to her younger sister, kissing her and going to the kitchen for two beers.

Esther waited, anxious, impatient, the need deep in her belly building.

The twins shared a beer and then Sarah turned to her father. She took him, soft and spent now, into her mouth and slowly brought him along. He woke at one point, muttering something that sounded like "whaaaaa," but Esther brushed her nipple across his lips until he took it into his mouth, latched on, and drifted back to sleep.

Sarah had him hard by then and kissed her sister as Esther straddled her father and then slowly settled, freely giving her virginity with a soft intake of breath, a little shudder of pain as delicate tissues ruptured, and then a deeper intake of breath as that womanneed she had been longing to satisfy for so long was finally satisfied. She came with a cry as her father sent his second gift of life of the day deep into her.

For the rest of his life, Lot slept between his two beautiful daughters. Their love, and their love of God were so strong that they lived long lives indeed. In all, Lot was a father twenty-seven more times (twenty-nine in all if you include Sarah and Esther). Sarah and Esther would quicken with life in the same night of shared ecstasy, and the only pregnancy that failed was Sarah's ninth. There was nothing wrong with the pregnancy, with mother or child. Instead, a drunk driver hit her car as she was on the way home from a gymnastics meet in which one of her daughters performed. The airbags worked, Sarah was fine, but the sudden impact jarred things loose, she had a placental abruption, almost bled to death, and the baby didn't make it.

Nevertheless, Lot and Sarah and Esther considered themselves blessed by God.

Epilogue

As it turned out, the two angels that visited on the day when Lot and Sarah and Esther sealed their love and their love of God were not angels at all. Once Lot was too drunk to protest, they forced Rachel to open the safe where the household money was kept and then, as Sarah and Esther were on their knees pleasuring the crowd in the front yard, protecting the angels, preventing them from being interrupted, the angels snuck out the back door with Rachel between them. Their van was parked two blocks over.

Rachel was addicted to heroin within a month and spent the rest of her life as an "exotic" performing at the whim of men (and a few women) who had strange tastes. It was Rachel who was called on when a client wanted to watch a woman give a dog a blowjob, or a woman be drug through the mud behind a horse, or any of the hundreds of other terrible perversions people can come up with.

As she finished with that night's Laborador, the taste of the dog's cum in her mouth and her face a mess with it, she smiled at the crowd watching her.

"Well," she thought, "at least it beats being turned into a pillar of salt."