The Really Complicated Family

I spent the next few nights not even masturbating -- having been so well and truly fucked by my brother Tim the previous weekend. Twice on Friday night, once Saturday morning and Saturday night and again on Sunday morning, add to this the two occasions I'd blown him and it was the most fantastically sexual two days of my life.

Much as my clitoris, g-spot and cervix pleaded with me, I couldn't go back the next weekend as my school had a summer fete on the Saturday, and I wouldn't have the time to get there and back and be awake enough to do anything.

So when the phone call came from Ronnie to join her and 'her girls' for a barbecue I was honestly in two minds. It was another opportunity for her to parade her straight niece before all of her Lesbian and bi mates and show that she had some normal family over and above Viv and Debs, her two live-in lovers/partners/best friends.

I thought that my occasional overnighters with Debs weren't a matter of discussion for them, Ronnie had let it be known back in the day that Elaine wasn't for fucking around with and wasn't in their club.

But Ronnie's 'girls nights' were such tremendous fun; the jokes and humour was sharp and fast, kind of like being in a one-liner battle in a room full of lady comedians, and I did not want to miss one.

So, conscious about what Debs had said when straight girls dress sexy for dyke parties, I just went with tight jeans and a T-shirt -- underneath of course I went with a black lacy string that wouldn't leave a line and matching bra, and should I wish to stay the night in a room other than the spare one I would still have something to show off to any other occupant.

Mind you, who the fuck was I kidding, so long as she had nothing else going on it was going to be Debs; her cheeky smile and tilt of her head had my nipples hard and my pussy damp in moments.

By the time I arrived and left my bottles of beer in the kitchen the party was in full swing, and I took a half baguette, spread it with butter and it was filled with bratwurst and burgers within three minutes of me switching off my car engine.

I sipped my first beer and was descended upon by the at least half of the gang. Ronnie, Viv, another lecturer from UCL called Christine, Julie the police woman who had been promoted from sergeant to inspector that week and who the party was for, her partner Jayne the fitness instructor and luscious Jackie, the blonde 'porn star'.

OK she wasn't ACTUALLY a porn star; she was in real life an economics professor from California, but her natural blonde hair, dynamite arse, huge tits with unruly and permanently erect nipples and husky voice even when ordering pizza just made you think of the girls in those appalling porn films.

Debs had said that she was so gorgeous she could have been one and that was that, for ever after Jackie was dubbed 'the porn star'.

Educated at some finest colleges in the US she'd crossed the Atlantic settling for the quiet backwoods and donnish attitudes of Cambridge rather than the almost constant ridicule of UCLA whenever she tried to stand up and say something sensible. She considered herself to be bi-curious simply because her astonishing good looks meant that she was rarely asked on dates by men who thought themselves her out of their league.

Debs had told me she'd had all three of the Camden posse and I thought what I'd do for entertainment if she decided on Debs for her bed warmer that night. Fortunately for me, Debs decided that wasn't on the cards and ran across the garden from the barbeque her apron flying, to throw her arms around me.

"Darling Elaine!" she hissed in my ear squeezing me tight and dropping a hand on my bottom, "Where have you been? You've not dumped me for some other short arsed dyke have you?"

"Debs," I chuckled, "you are still my first and only in that direction," I said.

"Oh," she said sensing something in my manner, "but there has been someone."

"Yes," I said, "haven't you had someone else in the meantime?" She pouted.

"OK, you got me," she said, then tucked an arm through mine and dragged me away from the competition, "so tell me about him," she said, "is he a good kisser?"

I paused; the one thing we teach children about lying is that one lie normally begets another, then another; the only way around this was to either deny everything, come clean that I was fucking my brother (who she had met) or base my story so much on the truth as possible so I wouldn't forget facts or confuse things.

"Not as good as you Debs," I said lying.

"That was too quick to be true, he is a good kisser obviously," that was true, Tim was a great kisser. "Good in bed?" She looked at my face and just smiled, "Fucking hell" she whispered, "That good?"

I nodded and drew my index fingers his penis width apart and then made my finger and thumb represent his girth.

"That big!?!" she almost shouted out. I looked around me nervously and nodded. "This guy I have to meet!" she chuckled, "For a chopper that big I could go straight for a night... or two. You must give my regards to Donkey Dick if you see him again."

"When I see him, I certainly shall," I said smiling, "His donkey dick is addictive, just like you are."

I didn't feel the need to tell her that she had already met him, and had taken a bit of a dislike to him as a matter of fact.

I ate my fantastic barbecue, sat on the grass leaning my back against the potting shed -- the same one I had disappeared behind some years back with Debs for the first time. Ronnie's girls were wonderfully on form. Being all so scarily intelligent the slightly merry badinage wasn't about 'bloody men' as you would imagine, but more about the foibles and short comings of 'crazy dykes' -- their choice of words not mine -- and why they all wished they 'batted for the home team', again, their words. It made a refreshing change not to listen to crap about the latest TV soap, husbands, boyfriends, spots, weight or clothes that I got with my straight mates.

It was fun, a had a few beers, some wine, conscious that while I wanted to party with the girls I also quite fancied getting it on with little Debs, who I'd not seen in that respect for at least six months. The beer, her closeness (by this stage she was resting her head on my shoulder and holding my hand) her smile, and the fact the thin cotton blouse she was almost wearing left nothing to the imagination and my mouth watered at the thought of feasting on those over large nipples I knew so well.

Viv had returned with her acoustic guitar and after playing a few slow songs handed it across the ring of us, by that stage reduced to less than a dozen. "Give it to Lainey!" came the chorus and I found it plopped in my lap.

I learned to play 'idiots guitar' while at teacher training college through a boyfriend who gave me 'Seven chords -- fifty songs', A collection of twelve bar country, rock and roll and folk songs that never got more complicated than four chords, the most dramatic being an E minor.

The great secret about this style of guitar playing is school children and pissed friends all thought just because you could play the 'wheels on the bus' (G and D) or 'Me and Bobby McGee' (G, C and D7th) that you were Eric Clapton.

So as the words 'Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose' the clock ticked later and later. Knowing my repertoire by now, various tunes were called out and I did my best, finishing with us all signing 'are you lonesome tonight'.

As we all joined in with the crescendo 'does your heart fill with pain, will you come back again, tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?" Debs gave me a look that said, 'tonight I'm having you, don't argue'. Not that I would have done of course!

It was nice to see that the other girls pairing off; nothing was cast in stone, and no relationships messed up. We were drunk enough to be a bit emotional and the community singing of some old love songs had got us all cuddly and in the mood.

Christine and Viv had wandered off to the kitchen to discuss UCL and its rights and wrongs, the newly promoted and extremely pissed inspector Julie and her partner Jayne were drunk and snogging on the grass, and (I was so pleased to see) Ronnie and Jackie the porn star were cuddling. I hoped that would happen. Ronnie was the senior partner of the group and was sometimes so busy checking all of her girls were OK she often found herself tidying up and putting things away as others crept off to quiet rooms, sofas or behind the potting shed to do whatever they felt like while she went off to bed alone.

Chances are they'd only go to her room, strip down to T-shirts and just cuddle and sleep together, but I kind of hoped that Ronnie would get some tonight. When Debs and I crept to her room some two hours later from behind the potting shed we could hear the creek of Ronnie's bed springs as she got down to business.

What I loved about Debs was she was as girly as I was; yes the sex was great but I loved the kissing and cuddling that we got up to for about an hour before, slowly stripping each other of clothes piece by slow piece until we were left in just knickers or sometimes just shoes. We'd also chat sweet nothings to each other that got racier and racier and when the passion was about to burst we'd make for a bed or convenient soft surface. Tonight was no exception and we both stood from our hideout behind the potting shed grabbing handfuls of our clothes, but still trying to hold hands and hoping we wouldn't have an embarrassing bumping into friends to deal with.

In the living room only lit by the ambience of the street lights through half open curtains, I could see what I took to be Julie's bare bottom, a pair of hands wrapped around it that could only be Jayne's, before I finally caught sight of Jayne's blonde hair, her forehead and closed eyes and her nose buried between her girlfriends thighs; from the position I guessed that both Julie and Jayne were sixty nine fans like me.

Debs smiled and pulled me away; I considered what I would have done if she'd dragged me in there to join them -- go of course!

I hoped that none of the others would see me -- simply because the only one I wanted to make love to was Debs, and I figured it would be really embarrassing to have to turn down an offer from one of these fantastic women.

We made it unhindered, naked and sooo in the mood. "Tell me about this Donkey Dick," hissed Deb in my ear.

"It's long, as long as I showed you," I said, "but not so thick as it hurts to go in."

"Not like getting fucked by a baseball bat then." She panted into my face as we rubbed at each other's clit's.

"Oh no" I gasped feeling her fingers at my pussy, "nothing like tha... ooooooooooh," I cried out. The minx had for a time now been slipping two then three fingers into me, I realised to stretch me out a bit for as before I knew it her entire but very slim hand was pushed up into my cunt further than she'd ever gone before with anything.

Looking down I could see that my labia had closed over her wrist and she started a very slow fuckng motion occasionally flexing her fingers to scratch my G-spot, wowee!

I turned my shocked face to her delighted one and I kissed her smiling face. "Is it OK?" she asked, obviously not reckoning on my delighted gasps and trembling as I headed for orgasm.

"Yeah, Oh yeah," I panted feeling that feeling again as all my insides started to tense for the inevitable physical flush and the emotional rush that I loved so much. It struck and abandoning Deb's cunt for a moment I grabbed her face pulling it onto mine so our lips could touch and tongues clash in wet, hot celebration. Bearing in mind what I'd liked most those short two weeks before, I rolled onto my hands and knees.

"Fuck," said Debs, her hand still inside me, "you dirty BITCH!" she giggled. In the same way Tim did, she put her spare hand to the small of my back to steady herself and me and then started fucking her hand into me again. I had lost one of the sexiest things of our lovemaking, the look on her pretty heart-shaped face as she did what she wanted to me, and she did just that. Her spare hand snaked from the small of my back to the cheeks of my bottom, disappeared for a moment in what must have been her licking her index finger, to slide it gently and lovingly into my anus and carry out the most intense massage of all of those nerve endings therein.

She told me next day that the process was called 'fisting' -- whatever it was called, it was the closest thing to Tim's huge penis in me with the benefit of fingers that could move around and touch little important or sensitive places that dicks didn't.

I came a couple more times then flopped down edging towards exhaustion. Debs withdrew her hand and I rolled over on top of her pinning her tiny form under me. I tried to reciprocate but ran out of bottle; I have large hands and Debs beautiful puss looked way fragile for me to abuse it in such away as she had me. Still, using my tongue and fingers I brought her off a couple of times before falling asleep naked and in each other's arms, it was warm, comforting and such a change from those nights I'd slept next to Tim's hard and hairy body.

We woke, each stirring gently and pulling together, our boobs brushing gently, nipples erecting against nipples and we were well set for a sweet and sexy kissing session, both still faintly smelling of the juices of the other and I held her tight, just enjoying her. We whispered to each other and listened to the rest of the house surface.

Ronnie and Jackie were first up whispering to each other, as they tiptoed downstairs walking into the kitchen, obviously to avoid Julie and Jayne who were probably asleep and still naked in the living room. Viv and Christine followed next and I whispered into Debs ear asking if this was routine in a Lesbian house and was anything said. Debs giggled and said that it wasn't in their house. No one was ashamed or anything, but it saved the red faces or looks of disdain if we all pretended nothing had happened.

I let Debs get up first, I never tired of looking at her gorgeous naked body and she never tired of showing it to me posing in a 'not posing' kind of way, before her large window onto the garden, the gentle breeze lifting her white, light curtain around her like some huge flowing nightwear.

As usual she lifted a long T-shirt from the chair and pulled it on, finally depriving me of the only other female body I enjoyed after mine -- the T-shirt emblazon made me crack up, it read 'dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians'. She'd seen one of her LSE students wearing one for a student fund raising event, and asked were he'd got it, and headed straight to Camden market and bought one.

I stood and stretched in the same way she had, putting on a similar display for her that she had done for me. I pulled on my black knickers bending to point my arse to her, and she reached out giving me a gentle slap on both cheeks. I chuckled, making a 'oooooh' noise I knew she'd appreciate and wiggling just a tiny bit.

"Mmmmm," she cooed, "hold still." I felt her breath on my bottom and waited for her to pull down my knickers to expose my still glowing puss. She didn't -- next thing I knew she was latched onto my arse with her mouth and sucking; 'hmm, different,' I thought then next thing, she had sunk her teeth into my arse and bitten down! I pulled away from her with a giggle, as this was something we did to each other, bottoms, boobs and labia had all had a playful nip and I laughed, and spun round chasing her to pay her back, eventually stopping when we reached the top of the second flight of stairs.

Not having Debs free spirit -- or for that matter her lesbian status -- I wasn't brave enough to walk down and meet the other residents dressed in just a T-shirt with the breeze blowing through my arrangements, so I put on my jeans and T-shirt from the night before. My bra must have been in the garden still, or somewhere between the potting shed and Debs room.

We walked down to the kitchen together to a group of slowly awakening ladies and a kitchen that smelled of toast, coffee, tea and various hastily applied feminine hygiene products.

As Debs had said, there was no air of reproach or 'who did what to who' -- just bleary eyed girls trying to recover from one of Ronnie's parties, and slowly coming round. Debs, who didn't drink as heavily when she knew she would be sleeping with me, became host and took over from Ronnie who gratefully slumped into a chair and sipped at the life giving black coffee she needed above all else first thing in the morning.

Debs dragged the butter the fridge, reached up for plates, bent to retrieve cups from cupboards conscious that her lovely curvy, pert bottom was on display for all to see. I knew that almost everyone in the room had seen it a lot closer, in the same way that I had -- for instance that last night had been the first time we hadn't we hadn't sixty-nined each other to orgasm since she'd taught me how those years ago.

I wasn't sure how I felt about it; our relationship had always been occasional and 'no strings' -- we'd meet up two or three times a year, always at the Camden house in her room with nothing said by Ronnie or Viv, or any of the group. I was never approached by anyone else from the group, although I could 'feel their eyes on me' if I dressed differently from usual jeans and Tee.

The other girls were all covered up, and even to this day I'm not sure how I felt about them looking at 'my'... partner? OK, she wasn't MY partner, I had no claims to her whatsoever or any right to how she dressed or acted. I can confess today that I was jealous -- we all knew who, what, where and for how long the night before, but my lack of experience in their world was all too evident and I suppose it also explains why I never joined it on more than a casual and occasional basis.

Eventually Jayne and Julie appeared, will Jayne did, she pushed open the twin sliding doors exposing a grumbling, hung-over Julie looking pained but very sexy in just her white blouse and tiny white knickers lying on the sofa. Jayne had covered up, although her blouse left nothing to the imagination. She was a fitness instructor, and let's face it, anyone with a body like hers would have shown it off proudly.

Breakfast, as always, was an amazingly relaxed and informal affair with the usual banter and repartee, slower than yesterday but still as much fun as it had been, and I tried to keep up. OK I had a Diploma in Education and an English degree, I was at the lower end of the educational spectrum in this party. Both Ronnie and Debs were PhD's, Viv had any number of BA's, MA's and letters after her name, Jackie had a Doctorate from UCLA, Christine was multi-degree'd, even Julie and Jackie had met at University, Julie studying criminology and Jayne upping her state enrolled nurse status with a degree in Sports medicine and nutrition.

It was great fun and being single and a former student I was pretty adept at quick food. Like Debs I hadn't gone mad with the booze and after a few mugs of tea made for me by Debs, I opened the fridge and produced my trade mark post piss-up scrambled eggs with black pepper and, for those that did Worcestershire sauce, spooned over toast. After half an hour and the smell and satisfied noises of her friends even Julie had rejoined the land of the living and stumped through to the kitchen sipping gratefully at the coffee Ronnie handed her. As I stood over her I noticed she too had a small dolphin tattoo on her right breast to match the one that Jayne had on her left.

Among the group Julie was the only one that had been married. Sadly, like lots of police relationships, her marriage wasn't able to survive the shift changes and intense relationships with colleagues, the final nail being the miscarriage of her first child.