Marilouise

Well, Muse-o-Mine, thank you.

Hello, Gentle Reader. Here is your chance to peek into the process of a moderately competent writer of porn. You see, I just love this story. Whether because it's autobiographical or just one of my sex-charged fantasies, I leave that to your evaluation. But I was stuck. It seemed to me that I wanted to drive home several things - what the new relation was, how it got to this point, what expectations are, and on and on - but I couldn't quite come up with the device or the image to do it without turning the story into a thousand page James Michener tome. Then I woke this morning and that beautiful muse of mine, as Stephen King (and no, I don't think I'm in his league. Hell, I'm not even in his sport) once put it, "shat on my head."

Soooo, here we go. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.

Chapter Two

I woke facing Lulu, and my first thought, in my grandmother's voice, clear as she yelled, was

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Christ, she looked about twelve in her sleep, all innocence, the blush of youth still with her.

Well, those big tits weren't all innocence and at that thought, there was gramma's voice again,

"Is that how your think of your daughter?"

But yes, that is exactly how I was thinking of her and, for that matter, of them. They weren't her little titties or her boobies to be tickled, making her giggle. They were tits, and they were nice tits. I wanted to play with them. Hell, I wanted to lay my hard cock between them and then cum all over them after she used her hands and those tits to jack me off.

I was startled when I felt movement on the other side and 'Drea's hand on my waist.

"You two are going to make beautiful babies," she said softly, and I felt the bed rocking as she rolled over, got out of bed, and headed for the bathroom.

Okay, that froze me for a few seconds as I processed her words. When I looked up, going to ask her for some explanation of

THAT

little conversational bomb, she was just a shape in the dark.

"We will, you know?" I heard as I felt Lulu's hand find my cheek.

When I looked away from the bathroom to my daughter, she was right there.

Then her lips were right there, meeting mine.

My body responded to this wake-up kiss about how you'd expect. I might be fifty as of yesterday, but my Y chromosome wasn't ready to retire. I was fully erect, hell, I was so hard I was throbbing, by the time she broke the kiss.

"Marilouise," I said, using her full name, all four syllables of it, to emphasize I was serious, "we can't."

"Daddy," she said, pushing about four of my buttons at once with her tone, her word, the little quiver in her chin, and her big eyes meeting mine, "You

promised

," and her tone and emphasis on the word "promised" was the tone and emphasis she had figured out about five words into learning to talk. She knew damn well how it got to me, "that the second time wouldn't hurt."

The surrealism of 'Drea's words earlier and my woman-grown daughter naked in my arms, combined with the residual alcohol and tetrahydrocannabinol in my blood, got to me, and I laughed. I couldn't help it. I had no more chance of stopping that laugh than I would have had if my stomach had decided to empty itself.

"I know," she was saying, her voice soft, womanly if you will.

"I know," she was saying as she gently pressed on my shoulder, pushing with a slow, gentle force that had me on my back.

"I know," she was saying as she kissed me and swung her leg over me to straddle me.

"I know," she was saying, her lips brushing my ear now, the words warm puffs as I felt her sex, hot and wet and slick as coarse pubic hair brushed low on my belly.

"I know," she said, her voice breaking a little as she made the final move and took me into her body. We fit so well that there was no need to guide me. One little move and she had me inside of her.

I was doing multiplication tables, concentrating on my control while trying to stop the laughter.

"Are you going to say 'no' to me, Daddy?" she whispered, her hips moving now.

"Lulu," I managed.

"Please, Daddy," she whispered, her hips increasing their speed.

"Marilouise," I said, trying for some control of the situation even as my body's demands were taking over.

"Please, Daddy," she said, tears starting to overflow her lower eyelid and her nose beginning to run, "don't say 'no' to me."

My body answered her in that way a man answers a woman's need.

I hissed my release as those

bulbospongiosus

and

ischiocavernosus

muscles low in my belly clamped down, meeting evolution's demand and sending my sperm deep into my mate, seeking an egg to fertilize. In that almost autonomic response of any male, my fingers dug into her back, my hips thrust to meet hers, my legs moved to lock us together, and I found her lips with mine as she shared the breath of my release.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said, her voice a little breathy but not the whispery voice of a truly sated woman.

Sanity was returning as the brain in my head took over from the little head still deep inside my daughter.

Oddly, my first sane thought didn't have to do with the fact that I was breaking a very powerful taboo.

Rather, I thought,

"She didn't make it."

I've always prided myself on being a careful and considerate lover. One of the primary influences on my development as a post-pubescent sexual being had been my cousin's wife (a whole other story there, so let's not get into it right now). One of her main lessons, and the lesson that became the guiding principle in my approach to sex, was that

"Any man worth having will give his woman three orgasms before he considers his own pleasure."

I had clearly failed that prime directive this morning.

"I'm sorry, Honey," I said.

She started crying.

"Why? Daddy, why?" she asked, all red eyes and swollen sinuses and tear streaks and a runny nose.

I was talking to a woman now, not my daughter.

"You didn't make it," I said, my hands on her arms for support and comfort, "did you?"

She giggled at that.

"Oh, Daddy," she said and kissed me, a slick, wet, snotty kiss, "that doesn't matter. There's plenty of time for that." She rocked her hips a little, where I was softening. "You gave me the gift I wanted."

"Lulu," I said, "we have to be careful."

"And that's my cue," I heard 'Drea say as she walked into the room.

I turned my head to look, surprised by her entrance and her words, and suffered another shock.

My wife was naked except for the shiny steel (it turned out to be stainless steel) chastity belt that was cinched at her waist, above her big hips, making it clear that it wasnt coming off without power tools or the key to the tiny brass padlock that jingled softly against the steel of the belt with each step.

She giggled as she crawled into bed, kissed me, kissed Lulu in an interesting way, and said, "We need to talk now."

She slapped Lulu's round ass and said, "Get off now, Baby, let Daddy relax while we 'splain things to him."

Lulu giggled, said, "Bitch," and pulled up and off of me, drawing sharp little gasps from both of us.

"What?" I started, but 'Drea covered my mouth before I could formulate the rest of the question.

After she broke the kiss, she said, "David, hush now. Let us talk, and

then

you can ask your questions."

I lay back, tried to relax, and listened.

"Honey," she said, "I know you wanted a big family, but that dream died along with my uterus when Lulu was born, and I got septic. We never did anything about adoption because, well, it wouldn't be the same."

"When Lulu hit puberty, actually, when she got her first period and we were having

the talk

, she told me then that she was in love with you and wanted to be your wife. I thought she was just talking little girl stuff, she was 13 then, and didn't think much about it."

"But then she came to me when the first boy asked her for a date. She said she wanted to go, but she was saving herself for you, so could we get her a belt?"

She laughed at that point.

"Hell, I didn't know such things were real," she said, and I couldn't resist reaching over and touching the steel belt that rode above her hips.

She giggled and said, "I'll tell you all, now hands to yourself."

"So I went online, found that there WAS such a thing, took a bunch of measurements, and locked Lulu up."

Lulu giggled and said, "My date was shocked."

"About a year ago," 'Drea took up her narrative again, "I realized that she was absolutely serious. We talked and plotted." She grinned. "Your daughter and her mother have a very special relationship," she said, leaning over and kissing Lulu, an interesting kiss to watch.

"We planned this birthday for the past year, and yes, My Love, we planned the gift of her virginity," she kissed Lulu again, "and my belt."

"But," I started, and she touched my lips again.

"David," she said, "we know it all. I've had the password to your computer for years, Honey. We know all about your alter ego, your

David Witheld

pen name, the books and stories you write, and how well they sell. We know about

The Gentleman's Corner

website and the way you just passed 8,000 subscribers. And since I can do third-grade arithmetic, I know that equates to about a hundred thousand dollars a year off the books. Honey, I know about your other bank account. I know we could retire today."

She paused, smiling, kissed me, and let her revelations hang there.

"Annddd," she went on, "we know we can damn well afford that big family you wanted but I couldn't give you. So my belt stays on until Lulu is pregnant."

"But," I started again, proving you can't keep a good man from being stupid.

She kissed me.

"David," she went on, "we're offering you your fantasy. Are you seriously going to question it? You get two women who love you. More important, you get two women who have read every word we can find under your David Witheld

nom de porn

."

She stopped and kissed me.

"And David, we liked it. We are offering you two women who WANT to be your fantasy," she said.

Lulu rolled up and began caressing my arm and kissing my neck.

"You're the Master of the House, Daddy," she said, and her intonation and emphasis made the capitalization obvious, "in every sense of that word."

"We will never say 'no' to you, Daddy. We don't need anything silly like safe words because we trust you," she said.

To say I was overwhelmed ranks up there with saying, "Elon Musk did okay," as an understatement.

Lulu pushed my shoulder, not forcing, just urging me to roll onto my back.

I was sandwiched between the two women in my life. On my right, my daughter, Marilouise, pressed herself against me, her heavy, soft breasts nestled against my chest, her muffin top pressing gently against my hip. On my left, my wife, Andrea, pressed herself against me, her oversized nipples hard against my chest, the warm steel of the belt she wore pressing gently against my hip.

"Please, Daddy," Lulu started, but stopped and drew a deep breath.

"No," she said, "Please

Master

, say I am yours."

"Please

Master

," my wife said into my other ear, "say I am yours."

"You say you've read all of my David Witheld stuff," I said, "so you know some of my fantasies are pretty dark."

"Please, Master," Lulu breathed into my ear, kissing my cheek.

"Please, Master," 'Drea breathed into my ear, kissing my cheek.

I don't know why I was putting it off. Christ, this was every man's dream, wasn't it? Two devoted women.

"Be careful what you wish for," I said, feeling my resistance fading. "You just might get it."

"I wish I were yours," 'Drea said, emphasizing her words with her tongue tracing the shell of my ear.

"I wish I were yours, "Lulu said, her tongue a warm, wet thing probing deep enough into my ear that I heard an odd crackling sound.

"Go on," my cousin's voice said in my head, "say 'yes,' give them what they want."

After a pause, his voice went on, and I could see, in my mind's eye, that weird grin he got on his face when he was talking about girls. You have to understand, he was the one who first told me the joke that, for him, wasn't so much a joke as a statement of his philosophy.

"What's all of that wasted stuff around a pussy?"

he would ask.

"A woman,"

he would finish with the punch line.

That was my approach to first girls and later women as I grew up. I had been faithful to 'Drea, and had kept my, well, call it my toxic male if you will, that misogynist my cousin had formed, in check for two decades, only allowing them out through my alter ego, David Witheld who published a book of hardcore pornography every six months or so and operated a subscription based website

The Gentleman's Corner

where for ninety-nine cents a month subscribers, my little widget that asked for evaluations told me the subscribers were 93.2 percent male, could get a chapter a week of my latest fantasy.

On that website and in my writing, that alter ego could run rampant. I explored gentle, loving encounters. I explored brutal sado-masochistic relationships. I ventured into mind control and scat, humiliation, and CBT. I left no naughty stone unturned.

And here I was, nestled between two women who said they wanted it ALL.

"And what YOU want, admit it,"

my cousin's voice chimed into my mind's ear.

"Show me you're serious," I said, lacing my fingers together behind my head and looking up at the ceiling, "Lick my feet like good girls."

I had explored Dom/sub relationships in several of my stories, and this was one of the images that seemed to draw "likes" on the website.

"Thank you," Lulu whispered in my ear and began scooting down the bed.

"Thank you," 'Drea whispered in my ear and began scooting down the bed.

"Oh, fuck," I thought, "they're going to do it."

And they did.

I doubled up a pillow so I could look down and watch.

And in that instant, any hesitation I had was lost.

Christ, from this angle, Lulu looked like a younger version of 'Drea. Her dark hair was already showing the first threads of silver that had made her mother's hair completely salt and pepper by 30, and was now the salt-salt-salt-sugar with a dash of pepper in it.

And they licked and sucked and then turned and kiss each other as I watched. They looked up at me, smiled, shared a kiss, a long, sensual kiss. I watched lips meet and then draw apart slightly so I could see tongues extend and touch, leaving a little silver thread connecting them before it broke as they turned, smiled at me, and went back to my feet.

It was as good as I had imagined as I closed my eyes and penned my stories that dealt with domination or a foot fetish. It wasn't so much sexual as a purely sensual feeling as warm, wet tongues worked between my toes. And I wallowed in it.

In one way, it was even better than I imagined, as the characters in my stories developed.

There was a rush of pure power, the pure, unadulterated essence of knowing that I owned these two women. It hit me in my brain as a kaleidoscope of fractured images flashed almost too fast to register. I could do anything or, possibly more important, I could make THEM do anything. It went something like this as I watched them smile at each other and take my big toes into their mouths and begin sucking gently, their cheeks caressing each other as they did it - -

snick

The image of my wife and my daughter wearing heavy iron collars connected by a chain as I walked into a large building, possibly a barn, where others, mostly men but a few women, had their own slaves.

snick

Lulu, enormously pregnant, lying on the bed, screaming in labor as I stroked her hair and her mother waited to catch the baby.

snick

'Drea being passed around like candy at a party, her face and hair matted with semen, while Lulu and I watched.

snick

Lulu and 'Drea sitting, side by side, each holding a nursing baby, 'Drea's breasts lactating again.

snick

'Drea standing over Lulu who was tied, spread eagle on the bed, using one of my leather belts to strap her badly bruised tits as I counted.

snick

And a hundred more.

"Okay," I said, smiling, "I believe you, now come here."

They smiled at each other, shared another one of those oh-so-interesting kisses, and crawled up to nestle in the bend of my shoulder.

I turned my head, met 'Drea's eyes, and said, "You are mine."

Her smile made me think of acolytes finding

TRUTH

. "I am yours," she said.

I turned my head, met Lulu's eyes, and said, "You are mine."

Her smile was, if anything, more perfect than her mother's, an almost ecstatic look that made her pretty face truly beautiful in that instant. "I am yours," she said.

"Okay, my darlings," I said, "get me hard and let's get to making that baby so you," I touched 'Drea on the tip of the nose, "can get out of that belt, and you," I touched Lulu's breast, "can start using these for what they were meant."

They kissed me, an odd three-way kiss, and then started kissing their way down my body.

They giggled almost in unison as they started nibbling on my nipples and then moved down, kissing across my belly.

At my cock, still soft now, I felt truly new sensations. I had laid my head back on the pillow by then, closing my eyes, taking away the distraction of sight, so the feeling of touch was enhanced. I felt fingers trace the ridge of my glans, exploring under that residual foreskin of all circumcised men. At the same time I felt fingers tracing the line that divided my scrotum, the

scrotal raphe

if you must have the proper term, and then down further across my perineum to touch my anus as my legs parted almost involuntarily.

Without sight, my hearing seemed enhanced. I had no trouble hearing 'Drea's voice when she said, softly, "Like this."

I felt her warm, talented, experienced mouth slowly cover my cock, her mouth open wide enough that the only direct contact with my still-soft cock was when it brushed against her tongue and the roof of her mouth, until her lips nestled against the pubic hair at the base and she slowly closed them before pulling off, stretching me a little, bringing the first bit of tumescence.

She released me to flop onto my belly, giggling softly.

I felt fingers on my shaft, and the touch was different. I felt a rush, the sensation of an erection starting, as I realized that it was my daughter's touch.

The knowing was even more effective than the touch, and I felt myself harden. I wasn't quite fully erect yet, after all, this would be my second performance in a matter of minutes, but in a pinch, it would have worked.

There was the sensation, the wide open mouth, the warmth, the wet tongue, the brush at the roof of her mouth. It was all there, but I was hard enough that I felt her body twitch as my burgeoning erection triggered her gag reflex.

"All the way," 'Drea's voice was soft, encouraging, not demanding.

I realized, and came suddenly fully erect with the realization, that I could do whatever I wanted. I could tell 'Drea to force her, and Lulu would accept the pressure on the back of her head, swallowing, trying to take all of me. For that matter, I could just tell Lulu to take the damn thing, shut the fuck up, and if she puked she'd have to clean it up.

The David that is the regular male character in my stories probably would have done that.

I suppose, on some level, it was the fact that this was still so new that made me say, "It's okay, Honey," as I reached down to run my fingers into Lulu's hair and then entwine them, pulling her up and back to me, "It's okay. Let's work on getting that baby started for now."

I opened my eyes and took in the scene, thinking this would go into my next story.