All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old
*****
The kitchen was awash with Sunday morning sunshine. Claude James sat at the old-fashioned lemon Formica topped table stirring a shot of milk into his coffee. Sunbeams filtered through the daffodil gauze curtains at the window over the stainless steel sink and the large bay window at Claude's back. The sparkling shafts of light bounced off the fixtures and the table's chrome legs and trim, creating a warm golden aura around everyone and everything in the room. It was impossible not to smile.
Claude watched the milk swirl through the black liquid in a slow eddy until, at last, it disappeared into an opaque caramel pool. He did not know, could not know, how many other 57-year old men were getting fucked thrice daily by two rambunctious babes, but he counted himself lucky to be among that population, however large or small it was.
He glanced up from his mug. His 38-year old daughter, Sally Martin, and her 18-year old daughter, Nel, moved harmoniously around, performing assorted small domestic post-breakfast tasks. As radiant as the sunshine was, it was dull by comparison to the glowing joy evident in the two women's faces, even as they loaded the dishwasher or tied up the garbage for Claude to later remove.
It had been just two and a half weeks since Claude had driven to Denver from Portland, reuniting with them at the passing of his and Sally's mother, Carla. All inhibitions, mores and taboos had been swiftly discarded as grandfather, uncle, dad and brother were redefined into the single overarching role of lover.
By tacit agreement Claude spent the week nights in Sally's king-size bed, reserving Friday and Saturday nights for Nel. Both women looked forward to their goodnight fuck sessions and Claude's reliable morning wood. During the day, while Sally was at her job and Nel was in school, he puttered around, planned the move of his mediation and arbitration consulting practice or, simply rested.
Nel always got home at least an hour and a half ahead of her mother, allowing ample opportunity for interpersonal quality time with Claude. He had bent her over the desk in the den; taken her on the living room couch; fucked her on his lap in the family room recliner; reamed her standing up against the refrigerator and, of course, made her in her unmade pink-and-cream double bed under the jealous stare of her plush turquois stuffed dragon.
Although Sally and Nel 'played nice', willingly sharing their resident stud, they had yet to join each other in a menage, being more than satisfied by the de facto schedule which had developed across the long fortnight. For his part, Claude appreciated the three relaxing Saturday and Sunday afternoons when his 'rabbits', as he lovingly thought of them, had allowed him to lounge around, more or less unmolested.
Claude sipped his perfectly balanced cafe au lait, studying Nel, stretched on tiptoe, as she put the cereal boxes away in the cupboards. Her slim bare legs tapered from her favorite fuzzy squirrel slippers up to the hem of her iridescent mint silver-green satin robe. Its normal drop was just above her knees, but now it was pulled well above mid-thigh and gave Claude, from his seated vantage, a direct view up the inside of her thighs to the shadowed overhang of her bottom in pink bikini panties. His cock hopped once in his shorts, reminding him it had been over six hours since Nel had awakened him with her soft wet mouth on his sponge-topped boner. "Ready to go again, eh, fella?" Claude silently asked his impudent dick as it fattened and hopped once more.
Suddenly he felt Sally's hands on his shoulder tops. She stood behind his chair and gently squeezed his trapezius muscles as she bent over and kissed the top of his head through his unruly pepper-and-salt hair. Her heavy mature breasts pillowed themselves on either side of his neck as she rubbed and pinched. "She's a cutie, isn't she?" Sally whispered, spreading her hands and walking her thumbs along Claude's spine between his shoulder blades and his nape.
Claude broke off gazing at his granddaughter, who now was bent, unconcerned, in a provocative 'L' with her head in the fridge as she re-arranged various items and made room for the Tropicana bottle. Tipping his head back, he stared into Sally's hazel eyes, seeing Carla's golden flecks in her irises. "And why shouldn't she be?" He asked, huskily. "You're a cutie. And Carla was, too."
Sally kissed his upside down mouth, still rubbing his shoulders, and dipped her tongue briefly between Claude's open lips while nuzzling the cleft of his chin with her nose. Pulling back, she straightened up and said, "You are the sweetest man, ever."
Nel came over, drying her hands on a dish towel, and stood beside her mother and uncle. Tossing the towel aside, she slipped her left hand behind Sally's waist and half-hugged her, pulling her close. Their unharnessed breasts squashed against each other, laminating Sally's blue velour robe to Nel's satin shorty. Nel stroked Claude's stubbled jaw with her right hand, kissed Sally on her cheek and said, "He IS 'the sweetest man ever', and I'm the luckiest girl ever to have you guys for my family!" Shifting topics, she observed, "This is Memorial Day Weekend... are we gonna, you know, like, do anything special?"
"How about we all get dressed and drive up to Pikes Peak? You can show your mom where you sprinkled Grandma's ashes," Claude suggested. "The Toronado won't have any trouble, now that Buck's put that new carburetor on it and tuned it up."
"You mean, right now?" Nel squeaked, excited by the idea. "YES! Oh, do you want to, Mom? Say you DO!"
Sally was caught up in her daughter's enthusiasm and laughed. "Well, sure," she agreed, "That's a fine idea, but it's already almost 11 o'clock... that's a late start for such a long day trip." She noted with a sinking voice.
"It is," Claude concurred, "But, we might be able to get a room at that motel in Manitou Springs where we stayed before... We can call and see if there's a vacancy, anyway." He offered.
"OK, then," Sally smiled, stepping back from the chair, allowing Claude to stand up. "Call and ask."
"Draper's Motel," Betsy Draper answered on the third ring. "Why sure, I remember you, Mr. James," she said cheerfully, when Claude identified himself, "and your darling... nieces... too!" She continued conversationally, "How's your old Olds doing? Beuhlah, Buck and I were just talking about you the other day, and that's a fact."
"Hunky dory, all around," Claude replied, mildly curious that he was a subject of conversation after a single night's stay two weeks ago. "Jeez, I hope she isn't going to bring up her stupid missing 'Do Not Disturb' door hanger!" He exclaimed silently. "But, listen," Claude continued into the phone, "My sister and I, and her daughter, are going to be in Manitou Springs tonight. I know it's the middle of a holiday weekend... but, do you have a vacancy?" He asked.
"Hmmm, well," Betsy paused, "I don't have three rooms available... in fact, I only see two rooms and they're both single kings, like #11 that you stayed in last time?"
