Janet Chrissie and Me

My new 'Slave'?

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*****

I was on my back, on the kitchen table with my head at the open kitchen door end. Molly was impaled on my cock and I had two big hands full of voluptuous breasts mauling them roughly. We both heard the key being pushed into the door lock.

Molly shuddered, her head went back, she groaned softly and came all over my cock.

"Oh I so hope you are right!" she sighed quietly.

=== === ===

"Hi Molly. Hi Darling, I hope everything is alright?" called Mum from the doorway.

"And I hope you've saved some for us, Mrs. Johnson," added my Sister.

I watched Molly's face as it passed through a number of emotions between slight terror to absolute joy.

"Hello Janet I'm... I was feeling... a little down... so I popped around looking for a bit of..." Molly stuttered to a halt.

"How's your Father?..." teased Mum.

"Well... err..."

I decided to put her out of her discomfort.

"Hi Mum, Chrissie" I called craning my neck to look backwards, "Molly popped around with some cake, we've saved some for the pair of you. She was looking a bit down in the dumps so, remembering I promised Alf I'd look after her, I have and very good it's been too. Don't mind if I look after her on a regular basis, do you?"

It was painful with my head at that angle so I turned front and looked straight at Molly's happy smiling face. I felt her pelvic floor muscles working my cock.

"Like that?" she whispered.

I nodded my head. Molly suddenly looked shocked then instantly delighted. Mum appeared beside me. She was naked. Chrissie appeared the other side, she was naked as well.

"Has he been good?" asked Mum conversationally.

"Excellent! Couldn't have asked for better... err... would you like me to err... dismount?" Molly giggled.

"Not unless you've had enough. So, Ryan's happy to keep looking after you. Are you OK with him looking after you?"

"Yes! Absolutely. Err... you wouldn't mind?" responded a very surprised Molly.

"A few, very simple rules. No jealously, ever, no matter what. We're basically his slaves, if you like. To do with as Ryan pleases although he has yet to actually demand anything. We're working on it but I'm not holding out many hopes. I've brought him up too well I'm afraid. Whenever possible and practical we are naked when Ryan's about. He likes to sketch us, doing normal things. You'll need to be comfortable with that. As for the sex? Any way and every way whenever Ryan decides, he's not made any outrageous demands yet but we all live in hope. Can you swing both ways? We like to share our pleasures and if Ryan is busy with one then we often keep ourselves ready with each other, or join in?"

Molly was beaming, her grin getting wider and wider as Mum laid down the rules.

"One of my friends went down on me at a very boozy party. When I recovered I went straight down on her. The guys loved it but I doubt they enjoyed it as much as I did. Yeah, I'll please another woman, encourage her to please me and ride a cock at the same time. Answer your question?" Molly laughed happily.

All the while Mum had been nonchalantly stroking her baby bump. I felt her other hand low on my stomach.

"Ryan still hard?"

"Very much so."

"Let's see if all of us can cum together, ride him, cowgirl!"

I felt Mum's finger slide down my belly to my cock. The knuckles stayed on my mound so I knew Mum's finger was playing with Molly's clitty. To confirm Molly instantly sighed and started to bounce on my cock, her muscles working overtime. Chrissie's head bent forward and her lips closed around Molly's left nipple. Mum wrapped her own mouth around the right one. I shuffled slightly off centre and reached out to stroke Mum's bum, inching down to circle her anus. Chrissie perched on the table and adjusted her position so that I could finger her cunt while she played with Molly's tit.

It was good. We were working Molly over well and she was nearing another climax quite quickly. She didn't last very long. My cock and balls were quickly soaked as were Mum's fingers. I suspect that the pleasure of a 'new' girl to play with excited both Mum and Chrissie because they both managed to cum soon after.

Things calmed down and Mum and Chrissie helped Molly down and sat her in a chair. Mum started to make a fresh pot of tea. Chrissie picked up the long cushion and placed it over the table end and assumed the position.

"I'd like to ensure Ryan's as hard as he can be, if you'll permit?" asked Molly.

I perched on the table in front of her and she instantly leaned forward and fed my dripping cock into her mouth. She stroked and sucked contentedly as Mum and Chrissie watched. Pulling my rampant cock from her mouth with a loud 'Pop' she studied her handiwork critically.

"That should do," she announced to nobody in particular, "I do love the taste of a cock after it's been in a cunt."

Moving to between the chairs supporting Chrissie's knees I fed her my length, slow and steady. This was going to be a long, steady one. I was hard as iron and, quite honestly, wasn't planning on unloading until Mum and I were comfortably in bed. Another, sort of unwritten, rule having slept with Chrissie the previous night it was Mum's turn to snuggle up with a cunt full. Chrissie would have the morning wood, probably. My task was simply to make sure that Chrissie was happy and content when she went to bed.

Mum continued to make the tea. Molly sliced up some pieces of the Lemon Drizzle cake with strict instructions from Mum to 'leave enough for Rose!' and I slid my cock lovingly in and out of my Sister's cunt, carefully bringing her to the boil.

Mum set up the cups and saucers. Molly passed her the milk. Nearly time for Chrissie to cum. I eased into a slightly increased pace.

"May I?" enquired Molly innocently.

She didn't say what.

"Of course," I replied wondering what she might have in mind.

Molly knelt down beside the big table support. I felt her hand on my inner thigh as she grinned wickedly up at me. Mum watched, chuckled, picked up the lube dispenser that lived on the counter-top, and squirted a large dollop of lube onto her finger. Mum rested her hand on Chrissie's bum and nodded to Molly. Molly's hand left my thigh and I next felt it close to the root of my cock. I grinned evilly. Three against one! I backed off. Molly's finger slipped into Chrissie's sodden cunt. I assumed her thumb stroked across her clitty.

"Ohhh Noooooo!" squealed Chrissie in delight.

"Oh, yessss, Darling," responded Mum as her hand slipped down Chrissie's bum crack and the lubed finger briefly circled her anus.

She pushed it firmly inside her tight, puckered hole as I drove my cock home hard. It took no more than three fast strokes to push Chrissie over the edge and the three of us kept it going for as long as possible. Team work! Me, Mum, Chrissie and my Mother had practiced a lot. Molly fitted in perfectly.

=== === ===

"Is that Ryan's baby?" Molly asked bluntly, "I wondered how much longer you would manage to resist your needs," Molly chuckled delightedly without waiting for an answer.

Chrissie was temporarily in my arms while Molly reorganised the chairs and dished out the plates containing pieces of cake. Mum was finally pouring the tea.

"It is," admitted Mum contentedly, "and let me tell you it was one hell of a struggle!"

"I'm not in the least surprised. Must have taken an iron will, I'm very impressed. Are you carrying Ryan's baby, Chrissie?"

Chrissie grunted something unintelligibly.

"Not yet," replied Mum on Chrissie's behalf, "she needs a few more years of freedom yet, one day though."

Molly turned to me a strange look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Ryan I'm too old to bear your child but I promise to try and serve you in all other needs that you will have."

"Thank you Molly, welcome to our little club," Mum said with delight, "now let's drink this tea before it gets any more stewed and scoff this cake before it gets stale," she laughed.

"So when's Rose going to get her piece?" asked Molly with a chuckle.

"Piece of cake or piece of Ryan's cock?" sniggered Chrissie into my neck.

"Tomorrow morning," I replied promptly.

"Cock or cake?"

"Yes," responded Mum instantly, "Rose is Ryan's employer."

Which solved a potential future problem.

=== === ===

"OK, Molly, you asked a personal question, I've got one for you," chuckled Mum.

"Ask away. Bit late for secrets now, isn't it." replied Molly happily.

"Let me assure you that ALL our secrets stay strictly within our little group. So, gotta ask, where did sweet, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, home baking, caring, Mrs. Johnson get her quite obvious and extensive skills?"

"Long story short?"

Mum and Molly looked at the kitchen clock.

"I should be in bed by midnight, got a baby to grow and a length of cock to take as my sleeping draught."

"A précis of the summary then. I was a bit, no a lot of a wild child. Eventually got thrown out by my Dad, way back in the 50's. Playing up was not permitted back then. Hooked up with this older guy. Told me a woman's job was to cook, keep house and keep her man happy and content. It wasn't a lie, back then that's what women did despite the work they had to do during the war. Once the men came home women were straight back under their thumb. I believed him, that's how my Mum was.

We didn't have a house for me to learn to look after, we had a room, so I learned how to please him and any man he decided. He made me practice a lot and I thoroughly enjoyed every second, even the sessions with his mates, particularly the sessions... well. Like a lot of men he went too far, expected them to pay but refused to give me any, let alone a share. He went to work one morning and I cleared off. Got a job, living in over the cafe, with the owner. He was a hard man, with a big cock. He quickly made me his sex slave. I loved every moment. Had me kneeling under the counter blowing him while he served the customers, dirty bastard. Loved it I did.

I was with him for a couple of years, cock every night and morning and a blow job or a good fingering during the day. No precautions and never got pregnant. Didn't even register at that time. He moved in a new girl, younger than me and told me he was going to train her to be as good as me. I put up with not getting any for two weeks then got an offer from an older, regular, cafe customer. Somewhere to live thrown in and he'd visit whenever. I just had to be ready, willing and able. I was. No problem.

We're just into the 60's by then. He was a proper Master, not a bastard like the others. A gentleman, with a need that I was more than happy to meet. It lasted a couple of years and then I was looking for somewhere to live, again.

Charles," she said as if counting them off on her fingers.

"Charles came into my life as I was looking for somewhere to live. He put me into 5 Shunters Terrace. The house where he was born, grew up and his parents died. It was a two up two down late 1800's railway 'cottage', one of a row of eleven identical properties forming a long terrace. A stick of bombs flattened all the properties from thirteen up. Numbers 11 and 9 were badly damaged and had to be pulled down and No. 7 was beyond economic repair. No. 5 was left totally untouched.

Charles had put a new bathroom and kitchen in less than twelve months before his parents passed and all he'd done since was to remove their personal belongings. It hadn't been decorated for god knows how long. He offered it rent free, he would pay the rates and all service bills plus a little housekeeping to cover the cost of feeding him. If I wanted to redecorate, he would pay for the materials. I should remain working as normal but was required to be 'at home' from 6pm onward every weekday. I wasn't to entertain any other gentlemen.

I accepted, eagerly. He opened up a bank account for me and paid a weekly house-keeping allowance into it. I'd never had a bank account before and had to get him to explain how it worked.

He always arrived just after 6. I bathed him, fed him then took him to bed. He never spent the entire night with me. I didn't see him weekends and spent the time redecorating. One Tuesday he didn't turn up. I kept his dinner warm as long as possible then threw it away. He didn't show Wednesday or Thursday and I threw both meals away. There was nothing I could do. I knew nothing about him other than his name, Charles. Not even his surname. I was getting seriously worried. No word, letter, nothing. I cooked his dinner on the Friday and again he didn't show.

By Monday I was worried about my finances. Could I afford to live in the house if I had to pay everything myself? When my next Bank Statement arrived I discovered that my house-keeping was still being paid so relaxed a bit. Three month's or so later there's a knock on the front door. Tall man, bowler hat, pin striped suit and a big brown briefcase. Very official looking.

We sat in the front parlour. Charles Henry Bradshaw had died of a heart attack, at work. I was a beneficiary of his will. He left me sole ownership of No. 5 Shunters Terrace and £5000 in cash. In the early '60's 5 grand would buy a very decent sized house! I asked where he was buried and went to pay my respects, thank him and say goodbye.

I met Alf, a widower and he quickly became the love of my life. We had a proper, loving, relationship. Not a 'kept' woman thing. He asked me to marry him. I had to turn him down. He asked why and I told him my history, chapter and verse. Pulling no punches. He asked again and I sent him away to think about it. He was back the following day and asked me again. I told him he hadn't had time to think things through properly and to go away and think about it carefully, to come back in a week.

He came back a week later. He didn't ask me to marry him but asked if I would move in with him, try it for size and then, after a while, he'd ask me again or we could just keep pretending to be man and wife. So I moved in and rented out No.5.

He said, quite early on that if I 'got the urge' he would understand and wouldn't complain but he wouldn't like me to cheat on him. He wanted to be told. I promised I wouldn't cheat and if a man 'interested' me I'd tell him before doing anything, ask for his permission. He made a point of reminding me that I didn't need his permission. As we weren't married I was a free agent. I didn't think any more about it. Years passed and we were very happy although I'll admit that now and then I'd wonder...

About 20 years ago Gerald walked into my shop, I'd set myself up with Charles's legacy, looking for some sexy lingerie. I asked what size. He looked me up and down then said 'about your size. Pity about the ring though.' Something just clicked. I slipped the ring off and put it in my pocket.

'That make it any easier?' I whispered.

"Much. Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"

Suddenly I was interested, very interested.

"I'll have to ask my Husband," I told him.

"Should I book a table then?"

"I said I'd ask him, not tell him and I only get an hour for lunch, so if you want to book a table, make it at the Wimpy Bar."

"I'll do a picnic then if your husband says 'No' then I'll eat sandwiches for lunch for a few days. I'll be waiting outside at 1 and hope to see you."

"You don't want any lingerie then?"

"I'll maybe have a better idea of the size tomorrow," he chuckled.

So, I asked Alf and he was as pleased as punch. Following day I walk out of the shop at one and he's waiting by his car just a little down the road. We drove to the main park on the edge of town.

'I'm not looking for an illicit quickie behind the bike sheds,' he says, 'I'm looking for long term, no strings attached sex for our mutual pleasure. It will need to be discrete. I don't want to know your surname or you mine. I don't want to know where you live or anything about you except that you totally enjoy sex. I'll tell you nothing about myself or where I live. Can we do that?'

'If you don't know where I live and I don't know where you live where are we going to enjoy our NSA Sex? And how do we arrange it?'

'We arrange our first meeting, tomorrow if your Husband says OK. We also arrange somewhere convenient for you where I can pick you up, what time I shall pick you up and the latest time you shall be home. I pick you up. We drive a little ways then you put on a blindfold. We drive to mine. Once the front door closes you take your blindfold off. When it's time to leave you put the blindfold back on. En route we arrange our next meeting. I drive you to near where I picked you up. You remove the blindfold and direct me to where you want to be dropped off.'

'I like the idea of knowing when I'll be home. My Husband will feel a lot better about that. Not so sure about not knowing where I'm going though.'

'Can understand that, first time will be a big act of faith, subsequent dates, OK if I call our meetings 'dates'?, will be a simple repetition so you should have no worries. Take a note of my licence plate, check it against my tax disc to prove it's real and give it to your Husband. If you're not home by a reasonable time after latest home time tell him to call the police and give them those details, that do?'

'I'll ask my Husband.'

'If he says OK, are you happy?'

I gave him one of my best blow-jobs and washed it down with half a glass of wine. Alf was over the moon. Happy with everything much to my delight.

He picked me up outside the station. As soon as we were moving I put the blindfold on. 'You OK?' I told him I was and the blindfold added to my excitement. We drove for less than fifteen minutes. All I remember is the crunch of gravel just before we stopped and the three steps up to his front door. We went in. I heard him close the door so I removed my blindfold. It was a good sized house, wide staircase right in front. He led me upstairs straight to the master bedroom. It wasn't a bachelor's bedroom but a woman's and it was a woman's room that she shared with a man.

'How long have we got?'

He laughed. 'We need to be gone by 10.'

'Unzip me!'

My dress pooled at my feet. I was naked, Alf's suggestion.

'Will I do?' I asked and received a 'perfect! 10 out of 10'.

I knelt, got his cock out. 'If I blow you now will you recover enough to fuck me before we need to be gone?' and popped it into my mouth.

'Yes, but don't blow me, just play then I'll go down on you. After that we can fuck if you're ready?'

The only man that had ever gone down on me before was Alf!

At 9:50 I had my blindfold back on and was being guided to the car. We arranged our next 'date', same time, same place the following Wednesday and two subsequent Wednesday's. On the way home from that third one he asked if I would ask my Husband if I could have a threesome.

'You mean you, me and another guy or my Husband? Thought this was going to be a very discrete affair?'

'It is, not your Husband, my Wife.'

'Does she know about this or is it going to be a 'surprise' birthday party thing?'

'She very much knows. Her idea actually.'

'My Husband will have no problem with that, when?'

'This weekend? Maybe stay over?' he suggested carefully.

'No, not first time. Might seem like a good idea but it could just as easy go arse over tit. An evening first, see how it goes. I'd be happy with that.'

The following Wednesday, same time, same place. I walked into the bedroom. Wife on the bed arms and legs out left and right, blindfolded. Gerald motioned me to be quiet and to crawl up between her parted legs. I didn't need any further advice...

We were all blissfully happy and Alf equally so. Said he'd never had such good sex.

=== === ===

I was in the shop. Gerald came in looking part excited and part very down in the dumps.