Molly and Friends

I woke to the rambunctious sounds of Saturday Morning Cartoons. It seemed that, sometime during the night, the girls—hopefully more than one of them—had moved the television into the guest room. Molly and the others, however, were nowhere to be found.

My limbs ached, as expected, and my tongue felt more like a pumice stone, but neither of these bothered me as much as what I believed happened the previous night. Was it a drug-induced hallucination? A fantastic dream brought on by trauma and strange medication?

There was only one way to find out.

"Molly!" The word came out in more of a croak, but it got the point across.

At first, only silence responded to my urgent plea for assistance. Well, silence and the Road Runner making his trademark exit right before something large and solid smashed the coyote into a fillet. Then I heard giggles, and it seemed that last night's escapades had happened after all.

The girls, one after another and each more disheveled than the last, filed into the guest room with Molly at the head. They said nothing, but merely went to work on an obviously rehearsed routine. Laura changed the channel to music videos and the working girls got a little more bounce in their step. Hard to believe, but since many were wearing only their bras, underwear, or some of my old t-shirts, it was difficult not to see.

Molly sat at the edge of the bed and fed me some water through a straw, a sparkle in her eyes that I didn't recall being there before. I heard the blender chugging away in the kitchen and hoped that breakfast would come before my stomach realized I needed it. My daughter's silence began to bother me a bit as she peeled back the blanket, but it was only to check my stitches.

"How are you feeling today, Daddy?" she finally asked.

What a loaded question.

I tried to push past the mind-numbing migraine that crept in along with the sunlight, and said, "Pain. Need pills."

"I have them right here." I heard a bottle shake, but were they the right pills, or the boner-inducing troublemakers from the night before? She smiled and put a palm on my forehead. "No fever, and your stitches are still intact. Looks like we won't need to call Doctor Andrea again."

"Again?" I heard myself say. I could barely feel my toes, and it was a wonder I could hear anything over the singalong version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."

"I called her last night just to make sure you'd be okay for some, you know, exertion."

The muscles in my back tensed up. Did she really ask a medical professional for permission to give her father a blow job? Of course not. Logic forced my panic into submission. Molly was much smarter than that.

"I told her you had some trouble making your way to the bathroom, but she said none of those 'vital' systems should cause any undue risk. She offered to look in on you today, after she finishes her rounds."

Great. I wondered what the Bitch Doctor would say if she walked in on me and eight wanton girls vying for the honor of blowing me next. Whatever she said, it would probably be to a policeman rather than to me.

I declined to ask exactly how the girls would handle my bathroom needs. For the moment, it wasn't a pressing issue, and no matter the details it was a grim thought. I preferred to return to thoughts of the night before, and of politely asking the agony to come back later.

I grunted some sort of word, attempting to say, "Whatever."

"You need to take these with food." Molly produced two more pills. I honestly didn't care which kind they were, so long as they worked. "Sheila, is that smoothie ready yet?" my daughter called toward the kitchen.

A stunning blonde wearing only a pair of black panties turned into the hallway and approached us. She held a glass aloft and it might as well have been ambrosia, but I couldn't take my eyes off her tits. Sheila, the team's catcher, had a few extra pounds on her, but they were all in the right places.

"Sorry," she sing-songed in soprano, a reminder she was also a choir star, "I couldn't find the strawberries after 'someone' put them away last night."

"Ginger..." muttered Molly. "I'll be cleaning chocolate out of my carpet for a week, I swear."

Something in her tone made my cock twitch. Luckily the blanket ran interference and neither of the girls noticed. Against my better judgment, I almost asked Sheila to put something on. Almost. The television continued its clanks and zooms, but no one was watching.

I swallowed smoothie as best I could, but it was like pouring concrete. Concrete that tasted like berries and everything else good in the universe. My lips were swollen and sore, and I didn't want to imagine what the airbag had done to the rest of my face. I thanked my lucky stars for Lasik.

The pills made their way in, too, and before I knew it my breakfast was delightfully chilling my insides. "There you go," said Molly, pulling the blanket up over my chest. "Have a nap and we'll come back to check on you in a bit."

Then, rather than kissing my forehead, she leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. Somehow, it didn't hurt at all.

I woke to the sounds of Jack, Kate, and Sawyer in the midst of one of their discussions, and a few pips and giggles between the girls. All eight sat or stood in the room, now, with Molly again on the bed at my side. Between her legs I saw Ginger, on the floor, and Laura and Liona between them and the television. On the other side sat Janie in Sheila's arms, and the other pair of sisters (these ones not twins), Abby and Bella. The latter was actually nineteen, though she'd been held back a grade for reasons kept between her and her permanent record.

Eight high school graduated, legal-aged foxes; all in various stages of undress. They sat with rapt attention on the screen until Hurley delivered one of his trademark lines.

"4, 8, 15..."

Before he'd gotten to the fourth number, the television noise was drowned out with squeals. Then each of the girls took a shot and Ginger rose to refill their gathered glasses held directly over my feet. When she turned and met my eyes, I blinked.

"Looks like Daddy's awake," said the smoldering redhead. She wore a black tee I'd bought at a Motley Crue concert, tied in a knot below her tits to show off her fantastic abs and belly ring. And, of course, her green satin panties trimmed in black lace.

Molly's hand crossed my field of vision as she grasped the rapidly tenting blanket. "Why yes, yes he is."

Great, I thought. Not only were the girls all here, they were all drunk. On a different day I might have lectured them about the dangers of underage drinking and making bad choices while intoxicated. I held back for two reasons.

One, if I had my way, none of them would be driving anywhere. Hell, they weren't going to leave the room as long as I had a say. And two, well, they were all graduated adults now; far be it from me to infringe upon their freedom to decide which whims they'd act on.

LOST continued, but suddenly all eyes were on me.

"I want first dibs this time," said Janie, licking her lips. Her black hair was already pulled back in a pony tail, and her stretched hairline made her Japanese features even more pronounced.

"He needs a bath, first," Molly replied, brushing her fingertips along my stomach. She traced the path of hair that grew down the center and slid her fingers around my cock. "I'm afraid I made a little mess last night."

"Bullshit, Moll," Janie protested. "I called it, and it's not like I've never tasted your spit before."

Molly playfully threw a spare pillow at her.

"Girls, girls," said Ginger between laughs. "We all want our turns and we'll all get them."

The others all leaned in, somewhat wobbly, toward the ringleader as she straightened and capped the booze she no doubt raided from my liquor cabinet. They all gave a single, solemn nod.

"All for one, one for all," they said in unison. I'd never quite heard that expression used in this way, before, but I had no complains. Dumas probably wouldn't, either.

Ginger smiled down at me. "Now, Molly, you know the code: Janie called first dibs. Laura, Sheila, Abby, and Bella can fight over who goes after me, because I'm taking seconds as soon as Janie's done."

Another pillow sailed through the air. "That's not fair!"

"I'll make it up to you," said the redhead. Then she winked at my daughter.

And all this before noon.

Janie stripped out of her tank top and boy shorts and knelt on the bed next to me. "Since I get to go first, I want to take my time," she whispered to me. The others all got comfortable while they watched, and I saw a few hands slip beneath where I could see—some of them probing pussies that didn't belong to them.

"Mister Roarke... Jim..." She seemed nervous, but her heaving breaths did wonders for what she lacked in the chest area. "I've been thinking about that day... last month..."

I couldn't move, but if I could, I would have pulled her down to kiss me right then. Luckily, Janie had other plans.

"Before I... well, god, this is hard to say out loud...."

"Say it," the others urged.

"Will you, um, suck on my tits?"

Not a question I generally get asked a lot. But, hey, who am I to deny a girl what she wants. When I nodded, Janie smiled like I'd just handed her a million dollars.

She leaned across me and lowered one nipple toward my mouth. Even before it got there, I moved my tongue up to meet it and elicited a gasp from her. I took the nipple gently between my teeth and flicked my tongue across it, then abandoned all my senses and my mouth as wide as I dared. I sucked her small tit, raking my tongue all the way across it over and over, while Janie shuddered and sighed. She started using Japanese words and, in that tone, it only served to turn me on all the more.

"Moto..." she cried. "Motooooo." At some point, I thought I'd ask her what that meant.

Then I felt a mouth close around my cock. Normally, I wouldn't immediately know (or care!) who it belonged to, but I'd gotten a really good sense last night of the three different styles the girls used. This was one of those, I believed. As the lips slid further and further down, agonizingly slow, my money was on Ginger.

Janie's sighs quickened as the blowjob made my mouth work even harder, until suddenly she cried out in a long, high note and I saw her head fall forward. I groaned, her orgasm turning me on even more. Ginger had just reached the base of my shaft and began the slow trek back up when my Japanese goddess realized what was going on.

"You cheating bitch," said Janie, but there was no venom in the words. "Fine, two can play that game."

As she shifted position, I got another great view of my daughter pleasuring herself. Molly was in the folding chair with her feet against the edge of the bed. Leaned back, she had two fingers sliding in and out of her shaved pussy and as idly twisting a nipple with her other hand. The look on her face was one of pure ecstasy, and her gaze moved back and forth between what I was doing to her friend and what Ginger was doing to me.

Janie's knees settled on either side of my head and I got my first real view of a young Japanese pussy. Hairless and pink, the skin around it was just as pale as the rest of her porcelain body, meaning she never tanned—unlike most of the others. Ginger always had a summer glow, even in December, and Molly had occasionally joined her topless by the pool. I always stayed inside with my scotch, thought I admit I'd sneaked a few peeks here and there.

Without any preamble, Janie lowered her sex onto my face and again I met it with my tongue before my mouth. She was already soaked, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't taste better than my smoothie that morning. Sweet and exotic, it was like she'd lathered her pussy with chai in advance of having it eaten. I licked the outer lips up one side and down the other while she moaned and bucked above me, then I plunged my tongue into her opening as deep as it would go.

"Oh god!" she screamed, coating my face in her juices.

The tip of my cock slid reluctantly from Ginger's mouth, but it didn't remain cold and lonely for long. Judging by the sudden muffling of Janie's squeals, she had taken over to complete the sixty-nine position. Up and down her head bobbed as I sucked on her pussy lips, drinking every drop I could elicit from the girl. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the base and began jerking me while she swirled her tongue around the head, and suddenly I couldn't take any more.

I moaned into Janie's pussy as she squeezed every ounce of cum from my cock. Over and over I spurted into her mouth, but she just moaned louder and kept sucking, like Molly had the night before. I heard some of the other girls join in the chorus of moans, Sheila loudest among them, as they brought themselves to climax, while I swallowed another stream of honey from Janie's quivering cunt.

My head sank into the pillow as I panted and Janie carefully disentangled herself from me. Her pale skin looked even more beautiful with a sheen of sweat on it, and she kept her eyes on me as she found a seat nearby. Despite the absence of my tongue, she still continued to make small hums of pleasure as her eyelids fluttered.

"Well?" asked Ginger. "Is he any good?"

They all burst out laughing, and the redhead poured another round of shots while I recovered. I used the few moments of peace to wonder how Molly and I had gone from a solid parent-child relationship to wild incestuous orgy in less than twenty-four hours. I was fully convinced this was happening, now, and not a product of whatever pain pills she'd given me. Not that the desire in her eyes wasn't proof enough, but it was still new enough to be curious about.

When I looked back toward Janie, all I could see was Mrs. Tanaka. I'd known her mother for many years, gone to PTA meetings with her, sat next to her at softball games, even fixed her sink a few times while her husband was away on business. The guilt must have shown on my face.

"Why so sad, Daddy?" asked Molly, as I blinked a tear out of the corner of my eye.

All eight of them turned their concerned looks toward me and, at that moment, all I saw was how furious their parents would be over this indiscretion. John and Andrea Hughes, the parents of the twins, had welcomed me into their home dozens of times for movie nights. The Jones', Ginger's parents, let me chaperone the girls at their place for sleepovers when they went on their twice-a-year Mediterranean cruises. But, mostly, I remembered how pleasant and friendly Mrs. Tanaka was every time we saw each other.

"How can I ever look your mom in the eye again, Janie? I'm afraid to even meet her at the grocery store, now."

The girls all bit their lower lips in a strangely erotic and synchronized manner, and shared a knowing glance. I felt a little sheepish for having such worries while eight girls crowded for my cock, but it seemed to agree for the moment and lay flaccid against my leg.

"Mister Roarke, my mom's been after you for ages," whispered Janie.

I failed to hide my surprise. "But... your father... he..."

"He's always in Tokyo, and she's known for years he's been getting some on the side. I could call her over right now, if you want. She'd be more than happy to look after you but..."

"But," Molly put in, "we'd all have to leave."

I gave it a few seconds of consideration. "Some other time, perhaps."

The dour mood now passed, the girls breathed a sigh of relief and then all began talking at once. It took a minute to realize they were arguing about who would go next, and about who would be first to actually fuck me. Again, my cock agreed with the direction of the conversation and, happy to be getting more action than it had seen in years, twitched wholeheartedly back to attention.

"Jesus, Dad!" giggled Molly.

Laura reached out a tentative hand and touched its hardness. "I've never seen one get hard again this soon." She turned to Ginger. "Am I dreaming?"

The redhead grinned again. "No, but I bet he thinks he is."

"If I am, don't wake me up," I said, miming sleep.

Now, I don't care what they say in science textbooks about hair color, but it sure as hell matters when it comes to blowjob technique. When Laura began to use her tongue rather than her lips, the amount of skill she showed reminded me more of Liona than the others. She licked the front, up and down, then the sides the same way, like it was some kind of fleshy popsicle. Only when my cock was fully soaked with her saliva did she close her lips around it and begin to suck.

Like Liona, she had a smaller mouth, but she hadn't learned the same deepthroat technique as her twin. When the head bumped against her throat, she gagged and soldiered on. My fingers, came to life, clutching at the sheets as the amazing blonde hoovered her way up and down on my dick, her messy curls bouncing in time.

I opened my eyes when I felt weight press down on either side of the bed and found two girls positioned over my hands. The sisters, Abby and Bella, had both shucked the last of their clothes and were running their hands over their breasts. Both had dirty blonde hair but, while Bella wore it long and braided, Abby chose to cut it short so it framed her face.

"Daddy," they said in unison, "will you use your fingers on us?"

Seriously, who was I to say no?

As I slid my middle fingers into her friends, I saw Molly back in her watching spot doing the same to herself. The sisters bucked and moaned, their eyes locked on each other while Laura alternated between sucking and licking. Soon I even heard Janie begin to moan and caught a glimpse of Ginger's head between her legs on the floor. That was just too much. My hips moved of their own accord, fucking Laura's mouth as I roared through another orgasm.

My heartbeat pounded in my chest as Abby and Bella's cries reached a crescendo. As my cock slipped out from between Laura's hungry lips, my daughter smiled and blew me a kiss.

I blacked out.