All Night Long
by Unknown 


CHAPTER 1 

Kimberly Marchini was a very curious eight-year-old. She had an inquiring 
mind about those things around her which she didn't understand. Sights, 
sounds, words-anything which was new. She always wanted to investigate her 
surroundings. She was like a newborn kitten, always poking her nose into 
things around her, inquiring about her world. 

Thus, late one Saturday night she wondered about the sounds which were 
coming from her parent's bedroom. The squeaking bed springs, the feminine 
giggles, and the masculine laughter. It seemed to go on for an hour or more. 
She had noticed the racket before. The squeaks and giggles and laughs were 
not foreign sounds to her ears. They seemed to occur every Saturday night. 
And they always occurred after she had been put to bed and her parents had 
closed their door. 

Why was that? she wondered. Why did they only occur after she had been 
tucked in bed? 

During that particular evening there was far more squeaking, laughing, and 
giggling than customary. She tossed and turned in her little bed, attempting 
to ascertain the origin of those strange noises. 

At long last her curiosity finally got the best of her. She knew that 
something secretive was going on behind her parent's closed bedroom door. 
Something of importance was being concealed. Something was being hidden. 

Like all curious children, Kimberly loved secrets. She liked to uncover 
them. Someday she wanted to be a detective-just like those guys on TV. She 
thought it would be neat to drive around in fancy cars and wear disguises. 
She already had some experience searching out Christmas presents. 

The more that she listened to the mysterious sounds emanating from her 
parent's bedroom, the more she resolved to uncover the mystery. She arose 
from her little bunk bed and quietly stepped into her closet. Being careful 
to make as little noise as possible, she tiptoed across the carpet and held 
her breath. She carefully pushed aside her small dresses and climbed up on 
her wooden toy box. She pretended to be a kitten, making as little noise as 
possible, tracking things stealthily. When she was comfortable, she 
painstakingly pulled back a worn section of wallpaper and peered through a 
small crack in the wall. 

She had first discovered the tiny opening several weeks beforehand when her 
mother had told her to clean up her room. She had kept its existence in mind 
ever since, not telling anyone about it. She thought that it might come in 
useful someday. 

Through the crevice she could see into her parent's bathroom, and beyond to 
their bed. Because it was apparently located right between the medicine 
cabinet and some shelving, it had gone undetected for years. 

Luckily the bathroom light was off so Kimberly could see easily into the 
well-lit bedroom. Her eyes took a little while to focus, but when they did 
she was taken aback by the sight. 

Wow! 

She pulled away from the wall and rubbed her cute little eyes. For a moment 
she thought that she was seeing things. She thought she might be dreaming. 
When she was certain that she wasn't, she again leaned forward and peered 
through the small opening. 

Wow again! 

She couldn't believe it! Her mother and father were as naked as jaybirds! 
Moreover, they were bouncing up and down on the bed like a couple of rowdy 
kids during recess in the junior high schoolyard. 

"Hey! That's not fair!" whispered Kimberly in an indignant tone. "Mom always 
yells at me for bouncing on my bed." 

Kimberly had recently learned the meaning of the word "hypocrisy". She liked 
it. The term seemed to explain a lot about the workings of the adult world, 
where parents behaved just the opposite of how they've instructed their 
children. 

Once Kimberly's eight-year-old temper subsided, she concentrated on the 
exhibition taking place right before her eyes. She was suddenly struck by 
the realization that she had never seen her mother and father naked before. 
The closest that either ever got to nudity was when they wore their skimpy 
swim suits at the beach. But that didn't count. Everyone wore skimpy swim 
suits there. 

A loud series of noisy squeaks emanated from the bedroom. She saw that her 
father had apparently pinned her mother on the mattress in some type of a 
wrestling hold. He appeared to be wedged between the long lovely legs which 
were bent at the knees. 

It seemed as if he were attempting to shove himself into the V formed at the 
juncture of the legs. He seemed to be moving the middle part of his body up 
and down urgently, as if he were rubbing something with his hips. 

"That's odd," whispered Kimberly. "I've never seen daddy do anything like 
that before. I wonder if this could be a new type of exercise." 

She knew that he had recently gotten concerned about his weight, and was 
talking a lot about diet and exercise. But as was typical with everyone who 
talked about exercising, they never did any. They simply rented videos and 
watched lean lovely creatures of the opposite sex do workouts. 

Kimberly had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was seemed to be 
fun, as evidenced by the continued giggles and laughter. There was no way 
that she was going to leave her secret perch in the closet until she found 
out exactly what was going on. 

A child of normal intellect might have simply said, "Big deal! My parents 
are wrestling in the nude," and then gone to bed. But Kimberly didn't 
approach things at face value. If she saw a bird, she wanted to know what 
species it belonged to. If she saw a squirrel, she wanted to know what kind 
of acorns it preferred to eat. If she saw a thunderhead, she wanted to know 
why it developed that peculiar anvil top. Hence, she wasn't about ready to 
go to bed until she knew precisely what her parents were doing with their 
bodies. After all, she might learn something which she could later talk 
about in Show-and-Tell. 

Her father, Tom, was a fairly handsome man. His hair was black and lustrous, 
as was typical of Italian-American men. And his limbs were strong and wiry 
from doing a great deal of physical labor over the years. His only fault was 
the pronounced development of a beer belly. It wasn't terribly gross like 
Mr. Fletcher's, but it was getting bigger and more rounded with each passing 
year. In fact, he could no longer buckle his pants without sucking in his 
gut, and was unable to zip his fly without some difficulty. 

Kimberly couldn't understand why her father was driving his body up and down 
so rapidly against her mother. He seemed to be in a race or something, 
bobbing his naked buttocks up and down like an out-of-control teeter-totter. 
He never moved that quickly when he played kickball. And even when he played 
catch, he seemed to be far older than his thirty-five years, always getting 
winded from just a little exertion. 

Kimberly giggled. Her father looked so funny bouncing up and down like that, 
his hairy buttocks flexing, seeming to pump the front of his pelvis forward 
with that much more urgency. His vigorous activity was causing the bed 
springs to squeak loudly and the mattress to sag with each violent thrust. 

"What are they doing?" the young girl whispered aloud. "I've never seen 
anything so odd. They look like they're wrestling, but they don't resemble 
any wrestlers I've ever seen on TV. Where are the funny costumes? Maybe 
they're performing some secret adult ritual! Perhaps something like a secret 
handshake for club members!" 

She was at a loss to explain the strange proceedings, so she turned her 
attention from her father to her mother. She watched as her mother strained 
and pressed her beautiful body against her father's, attempting to rub her 
naked breasts against his large hairy chest. 

"Oh good!" moaned Pamela Marchini. "So good," she said as she smashed her 
nipples onto his smaller ones. 

Kimberly still had no idea what they were doing, but whatever it was seemed 
to be pleasing her mother enormously. The woman was as happy as a lark and 
as playful as a puppy with a rubber ball. 

In the same manner that Kimberly had never seen her father move his body so 
quickly and urgently, neither had she ever seen her mother move her body so 
sensually and demandingly. The beautiful woman was writhing all over the 
bed, moaning, groaning, and panting. 

And she keep saying the same thing over and over again: "So good! Oh! So 
good!" 

Ironically, her mother didn't sound like herself. There seemed to be a 
heightened sense of urgency in her voice. The grunts and groans were 
frequent and made the words hard to understand. Many words were 
unintelligible because of all the sighs. 

Kimberly was also surprised to see that her mother didn't seem to care about 
the bedspread having fallen on the floor, nor that the light had been 
knocked over, nor that the vase was on its side. This was totally 
uncharacteristic. Pamela Marchini kept an immaculate house. She prided 
herself on it. A dust particle didn't have a chance in her residence. 

The youngster was also surprised to see that her mother was using household 
items improperly. For instance, the pillows from the bed were mistakenly 
placed beneath her shapely butt. Goodness! Everyone knew that pillows were 
for the head to rest on, not for the butt to sit on. And the olive oil was 
on the table-with the cap off! And a can of whipped cream was on the floor! 

Hmph! Not only were her parents being extremely messy, but also very 
discourteous. To think, they had had whipped cream for dessert and hadn't 
offered any to Kimberly! 

The youngster turned her attention again to her mother. She secretly hoped 
that someday she would grow up and be as pretty as her mom. The woman was 
truly beautiful. She was taller than Tom and lighter in complexion. Everyone 
in town thought that she was lovely. Whenever Kimberly walked with her 
downtown, the young girl would notice numerous men stopping their work to 
stare at her mother. Some of them would whistle, and for some unknown 
reason, a few would rub their crotches. Occasionally a fellow would 
energetically move his hips back and forth-just like her father was doing at 
that instant-and make some comment about wanting to have her for lunch. 

Her mother didn't seem to mind the whistles and the catcalls that she 
generated. She handled it in stride. In fact, whenever she heard men from a 
construction site whistle she would frequently look back over her shoulder 
and wink. That, in turn would cause the men to rub their crotches that much 
more vigorously and move their hips that much more energetically. 

Kimberly peered through the crack in the wall at her mother. She saw the 
beautiful light blonde hair spread out on the sheet, the dazzling blue eyes 
fully open and staring at the ceiling, and the tall sensual frame complete 
with a nicely proportioned figure. In many ways, she thought that her mother 
resembled Sleeping Beauty. After all, she was just as pretty in the face and 
just as beautiful in the body. 

Certainly her mother was as pretty as the contestants in the Miss America 
Pageant. She walked just as proudly, stood just as straight, and could move 
her shapely hips with the same vibrant sexy grace. 

Kimberly thought that her mother would have made an excellent Miss America 
contestant, but the young girl realized that she wasn't very well educated. 
Most of the Miss America girls had gone to college, whereas her mother had 
dropped out of high school. 

Even Kimberly realized that her mom wasn't very bright. Whereas the 
youngster had been taught by her father to be curious about things and the 
natural universe, her mother was more like the proverbial dumb blonde 
depicted in the beer commercials. She was one of those people who accepted 
things at face value, without utilizing reason or logic to delve beneath the 
surface. In a way, she was like a lot of mothers in the neighborhood whose 
weekly reading consisted of tabloids and television schedules. 

On the whole, however, Pamela Marchini was a very loving mother, taking good 
care of her home and family. And in reality, those things mattered more than 
the ability to read the Sunday New York Times and converse at length about 
the bullshit on the editorial pages. 

"Oh! Fuck me, Tom!" Kimberly heard her mother say. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" 

The youngster immediately gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. She 
couldn't believe what she had just heard! Goodness! Her mother had said a 
naughty word. In fact, it was a very very naughty word. Surely her daddy 
would slap the living daylights out of her for that infraction. 

The young girl watched and waited, fully expecting her father to reprimand 
her beautiful mother for using such foul and indecent language in the house. 
After all, when Kimberly had once used that very same word her father had 
spanked her good. 

But no slap was forthcoming. In fact, her mother, instead of apologizing for 
using the vile term, began chanting, "Oh fuck me, Tom. Fuck me! Fuck me like 
I've never been fucked before-you wonderful fucking machine." 

Tom began driving his pelvis up and down with lightning-like speed. He 
resembled a jackhammer. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" he said, three times in 
succession. 

Again, Kimberly gasped, and once more her hands flew up to cover her mouth. 
She was shocked. She was stunned. She was amazed. Her mother was saying the 
awful word over and over. And it wasn't just slipping out by accident, but 
rather purposely. 

And then she heard her father say, "All you've got to do is fuck back, baby. 
Mmmm! Just like that. Oh yea. So good. So very good." 

Now she understood why her father hadn't slapped her mother. He was using 
the same kind of gutter language. 

Kimberly frequently heard the word "fuck" bantered about on the school 
playground. It was very popular with all the kids, both toddlers and teens 
alike, but she wasn't quite sure what it meant. She had tried to look it up 
in the school dictionary several times, but was frustrated to learn that it 
wasn't listed. Apparently many other kids had tried to look up the word as 
well because that particular page appeared to be quite worn. 

She thought it odd that the word wasn't listed because all the boys in her 
class said the word a lot. It was either, "Fuck this," or, "Fuck that," or 
"Fuck something or other," or "Fuck you." 

Being able to use the word seemed to carry a lot of prestige amongst the 
boys-especially during recess. And if a boy combined the word with another 
to make a new word, then he or she was thought of highly. That's why Dirty 
Little Johnny was such a hit when he preceded everything he said with the 
word "motherfucker." 

Kimberly scratched her head and thought for a moment. She began to put two 
and two together. Maybe what she was witnessing through the crack in the 
wall was the act of fucking. Maybe the great mystery of the fourth grade had 
been solved. 

Could this be fucking? she wondered. 

She watched as her mother lifted her long beautiful legs and wrapped them 
around her daddy's waist, fitting them securely around his torso and locking 
them behind his back. The beautiful woman seemed to be using her lower limbs 
to hold him snugly to her, even though they were already snugly fitted 
together. 

Maybe this is what they mean by fucking? Kimberly wondered again, this time 
with more certainty. 

She tried to see how this activity differed from TV wrestling. She 
ascertained that the participants in this event were required to be of 
opposite sex, use a large bed as a substitute for a roped ring, and needed 
to be nude. The bottle of olive oil and the can of whipped cream might be 
necessities too, but Kimberly wasn't sure about those items. 

Kimberly saw her mother flex and hips and lower torso. The older woman 
seemed to be trying to spread her lovely legs even further apart than they 
already were. 

Her mother had such long exquisite legs. Even from a distance they appeared 
to be beautiful and very smooth, devoid of any unsightly razor stubble. They 
were the kind of limbs that men wanted to touch and feel. Whenever they were 
exposed, Kimberly's father was frequently seen running his hands along their 
smooth skin. He seemed to be especially attracted to the flesh on the inner 
thigh. 

Even Kimberly had felt them on occasion, noticing their warmth and pliant 
texture. The youngster had taken to noticing other women's legs and 
comparing them with those of her mother. She was surprised to learn that not 
many women's were as lovely. Fatty deposits, varicose veins, and bow legs 
took a terrible toll on the feminine gender. If a woman made it to 
thirty-five without some kind of unsightly leg problem arising, she was 
lucky. 

At that moment, Kimberly watched as her father moved his hands down so that 
they gripped the back of Pamela's luscious thighs, as if holding them for 
support. He ran his palms up and down the backside of the smooth flesh, 
feeling the unblemished skin as if he were running his hands along a 
recently sanded piece of wood. 

And that's when Kimberly saw it! 

A great big vicious-looking sausage-like object was sticking out at an angle 
from her father's thrusting pelvis. It was huge and as big around as her 
little arm. It was dark and ugly and all covered with a syrupy looking 
substance. But most amazingly-it seemed to be travelling into her mother's 
body! In and out, in and out, in and out-over and over and over again! 

Kimberly wasn't entirely without knowledge of boy's bodies. She knew that 
they had penises down there between their legs. But the penises she had seen 
in the schoolyard during recess were harmless-looking little things-not ugly 
vein-covered monstrosities like her father's. His was the biggest she had 
ever seen-bigger than Charlie Smith's even! And he was in the fifth grade! 
He was always displaying himself to the girls in the fourth grade and 
boasting about how big his was in comparison to those of other boys. 

But her daddy's penis made Charlie's look like a minnow. His was as big 
around as a salami. 

"Hmph!" said Kimberly. "I'd like to see the look on Charlie's face if he saw 
my daddy's penis. I bet he wouldn't be so anxious to show himself anymore." 

She squinted her eyes to get a better look at the action. She wished that 
she could get closer so that she could get a better view. Nevertheless, she 
managed to see enough. 

Her mother's breasts were bobbing back and forth as if they were overturned 
bowls of jelly. The youngster hoped that when she got older she would have 
titties as lovely. They were firm and stood up proudly. They were large and 
full, and didn't sag. They were capped with large pink nipples, which were 
slightly upturned and about the size of silver dollars. They were very 
pretty to look at-just as pretty as those on the women on the calendar that 
her father kept above the workbench. 

Kimberly was just learning about the mysteries of the opposite sex, but from 
what little she already knew she guessed that men liked to look at women's 
tits. At least her father did. That's apparently why he was always thumbing 
through the pages of his calendar. He seemed to have a fixation about the 
month and mammaries of September. 

At that very moment the nipples on her mother's breasts seemed to be 
puckered, like little nubbins, but it was hard to be certain of their 
precise appearance because the titties themselves were jiggling around so 
much. 

"Oh fuck me, Tom! Oh fuck me! Fuck me!" her mother called out in 
desperation, wriggling around on the bed like a fish out of water. "Oh give 
it to me! Give it to me!e! Fuck me harder! Fuck me harder! Fuck me harder!" 

"They are fucking!" Kimberly exclaimed. "Wow! Just wait till I tell the kids 
at school!" 

The youngster had her answer. She felt like Madame Curie after having 
discovered radium, or Isaac Newton after having discovered gravity, or 
Albert Einstein after having discovered relativity. 

"So this is fucking!" she whispered in obvious delight. "Wow! And to think 
this secret activity has been going on every Saturday night right under my 
very nose. Fan-fucking-tastic. Dirty Little Johnny won't have anything on 
me." 

"Are you about ready, babe?" Kimberly heard her father ask between thrusts. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" her mother screamed with her tongue hanging out the side of 
her mouth and drops of saliva dribbling down her dimpled chin. 

Tom rammed himself into her very hard a few times before saying, "All right. 
Here it comes. Here it comes!" 

Pamela arched her back off the bed and gave a series of grunts which 
coincided with the final powerful lunges. "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" 

"Ahhhhh!" 

"Unnnnggh!" 

Kimberly was fascinated by the words that her parents were using. From all 
indications it appeared as if there was a special vocabulary required for 
the act of fucking. A lot of "Unghs!" and "Ahhhs!" seemed to be needed to 
properly express oneself when heavily into the act. 

Suddenly the youngster became angry and said, "Why in the shit do I need to 
learn how to spell when all my parents do is grunt and moan when they're in 
bed? Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy! Motherfucking hypocrisy!" 

Kimberly squinted her eyes and watched her mother with concern. The 
beautiful woman seemed to be on the verge of hysteria. She was rocking and 
rolling all over that bed. She was pitching and swaying this way and that. 
She seemed to be throwing a fit of some sort, wiggling her ass in a hundred 
different directions at one time. 

The youngster worried that her mother might sprain her back from so much 
vigorous exercise and so many different bodily contortions. Goodness knows 
what daddy had done to her to provoke such hysteria. If Kimberly behaved 
like that she would have been scolded and told to behave herself. 

Her mother continued to rock her pelvis up and down, but slowed her 
gyrations considerably. Now she was sensually and lovingly rolling her hips 
from side-to-side, and she continued to do so long after Tom had quit 
pummeling. 

Kimberly looked at her father with an equal amount of concern. He appeared 
to be quite winded-in fact, he seemed to be exhausted-as if he had just run 
a long-distance marathon at a record-setting pace-uphill. He was literally 
covered with perspiration. 

She watched them for a considerable amount of time, but they primarily lay 
side-by-side and seemed to be simply enjoying each other's presence without 
saying a word. Apparently the act of fucking wore the participants out. 

When her mother had rested for a while she slid out from underneath Tom. The 
beautiful woman brought her long lovely legs to the side of the bed and 
stood. She raised her thin arms above her head and stretched. 

Since Kimberly was looking from the bathroom into the bedroom, her mother 
was facing her. The young girl had never seen her mother completely nude and 
exposed like that before. She was surprised to see that her mom had a curly 
patch of blonde hair between her long shapely legs. In the middle of that 
furry mound there was a wide-open slit which was pink in color. And 
dribbling out of that slit were gobs of a white gooey-like substance which 
resembled Elmer's glue. 

At first, Kimberly thought that her mother was bleeding, or seriously hurt. 
But one look at the contented expression on her pretty face proved that she 
wasn't hurting at all. In fact, she seemed to be deliriously happy. 

Kimberly deduced that fucking had the interesting effect of making people 
happy at the same time that it wore them out. 

"No wonder grown-ups never have any trouble falling asleep," said the 
youngster. "And no wonder they always look forward to going to bed. Ha! So 
much for the hard day at the office routine! What they really wanted was a 
hard-on up the orifice!" 

The older woman finished stretching, and began walking towards the 
bathroom-directly towards Kimberly's field of vision. The youngster liked 
the way her mother moved-so gracefully. The legs flexing and unflexing their 
myriad muscles. The skin smooth and taut and reflecting the overhead light. 
With every graceful step the large breasts shook slightly, as did the flesh 
on the inner thigh, as did the firm rounded flesh of the buttocks. 

But the most interesting thing was the way she moved her hips. Kimberly had 
seen women do that in television commercials, but nowhere else. It appeared 
as if her mother had springs in her pelvis. Of course, those hips might have 
looked more active than they were because the waist was so tapered and thin. 

There was no doubt that her mother was in perfect shape. She had a body like 
that of the woman in the Special K commercial. Sleek and fit. 

Just as her mother was about to close and lock the bathroom door, Kimberly's 
father yelled from the bed. "Hey! Wait for me!" Apparently he had gotten a 
second wind. 

"Why Tom-whatever for?" Pamela asked with a slight giggle in her voice. 

"I want to watch you douche." 

Pamela smiled broadly and said, "Nasty man." 

Kimberly had never heard the word before. She tried to recall seeing it 
written on the asphalt in the schoolyard, or on the hallway walls, but 
couldn't. She also tried to recall if Dirty Little Johnny or Charlie Smith 
had ever used the term, but it didn't ring a bell. She decided that she 
would have to remember it for future reference. Obviously the term had 
something to do with this secret adult activity called "fucking". Since she 
wanted to know everything there was to know about this wonderful new act, 
she committed the word to memory. 

Her mother closed the door, locking both her and Tom inside. She turned to 
him and gave him a hug. She pressed her body very close, rubbing her womanly 
pelvis against his long-hanging manly sausage, and pressing her large 
succulent breasts against his virile hairy chest. 

Kimberly was amazed at how close her parents were standing and how much they 
were touching each other. She hadn't seen this much fondling, caressing, and 
feeling in all the years she had lived with them. In fact, they seemed 
unable to keep their hands at their sides. 

"What do you want me to do first?" Tom asked as he fondled Pamela's choice 
rounded buttocks. 

"Why don't you lick me clean. After all, you put all of this sticky sperm 
inside me." 

Sperm! Now there's a word that Kimberly had heard in the schoolyard. Yes, 
she remembered precisely. The boys in the eighth grade called each other 
"spermheads". She didn't know what it meant, but the boys seemed to think 
that it was funny. 

She was surprised to see her father bend down and kiss the tops of her 
mother's titties. And he didn't just kiss them-he began licking them! And he 
wasn't satisfied with just licking them-he began sucking them. And he didn't 
just suck them for a minute or two, but for many minutes-just like a little 
baby feeding on a bottle! 

Kimberly was very interested in what was transpiring. Her father wasn't an 
infant, so then why was he sucking on her mother's breast? Was there milk in 
there? Even if there were, why would her dad want to get it from a nipple? 
After all, there was plenty of milk in the refrigerator. 

"Mmm! I swear," Tom said as he continued to suck. "Your tits are just as 
good as the first day that I married you. They haven't sagged a fucking 
millimeter and they're still as firm as ever. I swear they're the best 
looking tits in town." 

Kimberly saw her mother lovingly cradle her father's head protectively to 
the right breast and heard her say, "I keep them in shape just for you, 
darling." 

"Thanks. As long as you stay fit I'll never leave you, but if you let these 
tits droop you'll be out of here before I can say 'Fuck trucks'." Tom said 
this as he kissed her right nipple and then her left, and then her right 
again. 

Kimberly could she her father's tongue sticking out, flicking around the 
hard little upturned nipple. Her mother didn't seem to mind a bit. In fact, 
she was smiling broadly. 

Her father lowered his head and kissed the underside of the right titty, and 
then began working his way downward across the flat plain of the beautiful 
woman's dainty tummy. The flesh there quivered slightly as he licked a moist 
trail downward to the belly button. He paused to swirl his tongue around the 
perimeter of the navel. He dipped his lingual digit inside the indentation 
several times, moistening the entire area with his saliva. 

He then he lowered his face still further-down to the blonde curly hair 
which covered the pubic mound. Without stopping for so much as a second he 
buried his face in the furry muff. 

"Eat it, lover! Eat it good!" screamed Pamela. 

This was another new term for Kimberly. What exactly was he eating? It 
didn't look like there was anything between her mother's thighs which could 
be eaten. Nevertheless, her daddy was rolling his face back and forth 
ecstatically. He looked happy as a corn-fed hog from Iowa down there. 

Kimberly's mother began thrusting her hips forward and saying, "Oh Tom! Oh 
Tom! Lick it! Lick it! Lick it!" She was breathing with difficulty. In fact, 
she had a hard time standing. She reached behind her and held onto the sink 
for support. She rested her buttocks against the edge and spread her long 
lovely legs wider, so that she was standing merely on her tiptoes. 

In this position Kimberly could see a great deal more of her mother's pussy. 
She could also see her father better as he licked it diligently. 

"Oh Tom! Tom! Tom!" 

"Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!" he replied. 

"Oh Tom!" 

"Mmph!" 

"Oh Tom!" 

"Mmph!" 

Kimberly watched her mother lean back and actually sit on the lip of the 
sink and rest her back against the wall. She saw her mother spread her legs 
as wide as possible-wider than Kimberly knew that a woman could, so that the 
thighs were at a 180 degree angle, and the calves dangled over the side. 

The beautiful woman reached between her outstretched legs with her forearms, 
forcing her thighs even further apart. Now the tendons at the juncture of 
her legs were straining and standing up beneath the lovely golden flesh. 

Kimberly was shocked! Her mother had a hole between her legs! And it was a 
big hole! 

The youngster wondered if her daddy had done that, or if that cavity was 
always open like that. She reached down and hiked up her own nightdress. She 
felt the juncture of her legs and noticed that she too had a slit, but not a 
gaping hole like her mother. 

Maybe that's what happens when a girl gets older, she thought. They get a 
great big opening between their thighs. 

Kimberly saw that her mother was flushed. She worried that she might be 
getting sick. But if the beautiful woman were coming down with something, 
she certainly didn't exhibit any signs of fatigue and ill health. Far from 
it. She was rocking her hips against her daddy's face as if she had several 
bowlfuls of Mexican jumping beans in her pelvis. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Tom! Oh you cunt-licking bastard! Oh you fucking doll!" 

Kimberly had gotten used to her mother using the word "fuck". It no longer 
singed her ears, or caused her to wince. She merely accepted it as the way 
her mother spoke when Kimberly wasn't around. 

Talk about hypocrisy! 

Pamela seemed to be undergoing some type of physical transformation again. A 
slight quivering tremor could be detected on her body. Her skin flushed. Her 
breasts seemed to swell noticeably. She took more intakes of breath. Her 
nostrils flared. Her lips seemed unable to form words. Her nipples, already 
puckered, strained that much more. 

She seemed excited and frantic at the same time. She seemed flustered, yet 
tickled. She was excited, yet trembling. Her eyeballs were rolling and her 
eyelashes were fluttering fitfully. 

Suddenly Kimberly realized what was happening. She was witnessing her mother 
having an orgasm. Wow! Geraldo, Donahue, and Oprah talked about this all the 
time! Heck! They hardly broadcast a show without mentioning the word 
"orgasm" at least a dozen times on any given afternoon. 

Ah ha! thought Kimberly. So this is what it looks like. No wonder this topic 
is covered on the talk shows so much. Just look at the way mom is going out 
of her wits. The poor woman is delirious! She's behaving as if she were 
bitten by a rabid dog. 

"Arrrgggghhh!" screamed Pamela at the top of her lungs. It was such a loud 
piercing scream that the youngster wanted to jump back and away from the 
wall. But she remained in place, afraid that any sound she might make would 
alert her parents to her presence and end her secret access to their private 
activity. 

"Oh glorious hallelujah! Oh! Oh! Oh!" gasped Pamela as she attempted to 
catch her breath in spasms, while rocking her pelvis frantically and 
uncontrollably onto Tom's face. 

"Mmmm!" he moaned, looking up from between the widespread thighs. "And you 
taste as good as did on your wedding day. Maybe better." 

Pamela's eyes were still rolled back in her head. The lovely woman seemed to 
be mumbling the word "fuck" over and over again, as if it were part of a 
dream. For a moment, Kimberly worried that her mother had drifted off into 
another cosmic dimension. The youngster had seen on "Star Trek" where people 
could do that. Perhaps her mom had drifted into the Fucking Zone! 

Meanwhile, Kimberly watched her father as he stood up and grabbed a 
washcloth from the towel cabinet. He wiped his face clean of a great deal of 
syrupy-looking substance. She noticed that the substance was all over her 
mother's inner thighs as well. Just what this mysterious liquid was, she 
didn't know. Hopefully one day she would find out. 

 CHAPTER 2 

Nearly eight years went by and Kimberly grew to love Saturday nights. In the 
same manner that some kids developed and affinity for watching animals, she 
developed and affinity for watching her parents make love. She turned the 
closet into a comfortable little box seat, piling in pillows, snacks, and 
even a Walkman. To say the least, she was prepared for any all-nighter which 
might transpire. 

It became a hobby of hers to see how long her dad could last. Sometimes 
twenty minutes, sometimes forty minutes, sometimes an entire hour. She noted 
that he was hornier on clear, cool nights, than on hot muggy ones. And she 
noticed that certain foods improved his performance. For instance, whenever 
he drank wine and ate a salad, his libido became insatiable. Whereas if he 
ate hot dogs, hamburgers, and drank beer, he seemed to doze off early. 
Naturally Kimberly encouraged her mother to serve wine and lettuce 
regularly. 

Kimberly also went to the library and read everything that there was to read 
about sex. Masters and Johnson, Kinsey, Hite, Boccaccio, Heffner. She 
immersed herself in the subject at an early age, and became quite the 
authority by the time she was twelve. While most of her classmates were 
still learning the location of a penis on a male's body, she was learning 
the delicate techniques of vasectomy and in vitro fertilization. 

No longer did she want to be a detective like those morons depicted on 
television. Now she wanted to be a sex researcher like Kinsey and survey 
people by asking intimate questions. Or maybe open up her own clinic like 
Masters and Johnson and watch beautiful couples fuck each other all day 
long-and get paid for it. If business got bad, she figured that she could 
secretly videotape the best-looking couples ball each other, and then she 
could sell the finished videos to underground porno outlets. She calculated 
that she could pull in a tidy profit on the side from such a nefarious 
endeavor. 

Kimberly loved the way her daddy stuck his penis in her mother. She enjoyed 
watching the big long olive-skinned cock sliding upward and inward, slowly 
but surely into the peaches and cream body. She enjoyed seeing the joyous 
expression on her mother's face as she accepted the shaft into her liquid 
depths. The eyelashes always fluttered and her mouth always dropped open in 
a voiceless gape when the crown slipped past her gates of paradise. 

Kimberly liked the fact that her mother was always willing to spread her 
legs as wide as possible. Pamela had no inhibitions about presenting Tom 
with a wide-screen Cinemascope view on Saturday nights. 

And the youngster liked the way her mother grunted and groaned and begged 
for cock once she was worked up. And she liked the way she lost complete 
control when an orgasm neared. And the way she locked her legs and rode up 
and down on the cock. And the way she screamed, "Fuck me, Tom!" at the top 
of her lungs each and every Saturday night-after Kimberly had been put to 
bed. 

Week after week it was a beautiful performance. In fact, as the years wore 
on, her mother became more demanding with sex, taking the initiative more 
than not. She was the one who stepped out of her clothes first on Saturday 
nights. She was the one who reached for the genitals. 

Ironically, Tom seemed less interested in sex as the years wore on. Part of 
the blame for his lack of enthusiasm might have resided in the fact that he 
kept getting fatter and fatter. To say the least, he was turning into a 
chubby pudgeball. And there was little doubt that beer belly was beginning 
to have a detrimental effect on his weekly sexual performances. He just 
couldn't shove the old dick into the snatch the way that he used to. And 
even when he did, he enjoyed the act less because he perspired more, and 
tired easier. 

To say the least, his less than enthusiastic performances were having a 
pronounced effect upon Pamela's psyche. She grew more irritable. More often 
than not she was on edge. And because she was on edge, she was always 
barking orders at Kimberly. Hardly an hour went by when she wasn't saying, 
"Do this! Do that! Do this! Don't do this! But do that! And do this, and 
this, and this!" 

Youngsters will put up with a certain amount of bullshit from their parents. 
It's part of the deal of being a kid. But unreasonable yelling and screaming 
can have a serious effect. The kids can get ticked off. Sometimes they'll 
scream, "Fuck you! I've had it!" 

For several months Pamela had been a royal pain in the ass to her daughter. 
And like most teenagers Kimberly had gotten royally fed up with the 
tantrums. Of course, the youngster knew what the problem was. After all, 
over the last few years she had seen the sexual aspect of her parent's 
marriage deteriorate right before her very eyes. For every pound that her 
father gained around his gut, his stamina diminished by one minute. Ten 
pounds equaled ten minutes. Twenty pounds equaled twenty. Thirty pounds 
equaled thirty. Kimberly had figured this out because she kept a score card 
and a stopwatch handy in the closet. After all, she concluded that if she 
wanted to be a sex researcher she needed to have done some research on sex. 

And what better subjects to study than one's parents. 

It didn't take a mathematical genius nor a sexual therapist to realize that 
Pamela was in dire need of cuntal satisfaction. Kimberly figured that little 
hole of hers was probably burning up, needing relief in the worst way. If 
her mother had been a cat she would have undoubtedly gone out prowling. 

One Sunday morning while Kimberly was having breakfast, her mother nervously 
walked back and forth across the kitchen floor, as if she were a man 
awaiting news of an infant's delivery in a hospital maternity ward. 

To Kimberly the situation was obvious. The woman hadn't gotten her fair 
share of cock from the husband the night before, and was yearning for 
satisfaction. She indeed was strutting around like a queen cat in heat, 
shaking her ass like she was sending out a salacious telegram to any male 
who might happen to be in the vicinity. 

But the crisis between Kimberly and her mother drew to an explosive head 
when the teenager accidentally dropped a prized teacup on the kitchen floor, 
smashing it into dozens of small pieces. 

Her mother looked at her and screamed, "Damn it, Kimberly! That was one of 
my finest cups." 

Kimberly knew that another tirade was in the offing, so she tried to nip it 
in the bud by saying, "I'm sorry, mom. It was an accident." 

"Accident! Ha! That's a likely story." 

"No really, mom. I'm serious. It was." 

"I won't have you lying to your mother. Go to your room this instant, young 
lady." 

Kimberly didn't budge. Her mother behaved as if she were Mrs. Attila the 
Hun. 

There was no doubt that this woman needed cock! 

From Kimberly's amateur psychoanalytical studies she realized that irritable 
people frequently lost their sense of logical reasoning, and could become 
real bastards personality-wise, to friends and family alike. One 
psychological defect fed on the other and could create a totally warped 
individual, both socially and psychologically. That's what happened to 
Hitler. She hoped that it wouldn't happen to her mother. 

Suddenly the youngster got an idea. Maybe she could get her mother off of 
her back by concocting a scheme which would provide her with an entirely new 
thrill. Kimberly, being a bright kid, worked out a plan to get even with her 
mother. Yet, it was one which fit into the overall scheme of things in the 
household. 

The youngster decided to play it cool and let bygones be bygones. She needed 
to convince her mother that she was sincere. "What's wrong, mom?" Kimberly 
asked in her most genuinely sincere tone of voice-the one which she had 
practiced a lot for church recitals. 

"Never mind," her mother replied indignantly, tossing her long blonde hair 
back off of her shoulders. She wasn't willing to admit to her daughter that 
she had lost her temper over something so trivial as the breakage of a 
teacup. 

Pamela didn't understand what was wrong with her lately. Nothing seemed to 
be going right anymore. She seemed tense all the time. She was nervous. If 
she had been a smoker, her symptoms could be associated with a withdrawal 
from nicotine. But she wasn't a smoker, and never had been. Yet, she was 
jittery as hell. 

Kimberly could see that her mother didn't have the foggiest idea what was 
wrong. However, the older woman didn't know that Kimberly knew every 
intimate detail about her. 

"C'mon, mom, tell me what's upsetting you. You seem to be getting worse and 
worse as each week goes by." 

Pamela breathed deeply, sighed, and said, "You wouldn't understand." 

"I might. Try me." 

The older woman fixed her lovely blue orbs on her teenage daughter and 
smiled. "Believe me, honey. You really wouldn't understand." 

The youngster wanted to ask point blank if she were having a cock problem, 
but decided against it. Teasing her mother at that instant could prove to be 
unwise. So she simply asked, "Is it a woman's problem?" 

Pamela smiled and laughed. "You are growing up, aren't you?" 

"I'll be sixteen next year. But let's not talk about me. Let's talk about 
you. Could your irritability be associated with sexual difficulties?" 

Pamela was astonished at the openness of the question. "Well yes, you can 
say ... er ... something like that." 

"Does it relate to daddy?" 

"Let's just say that we're having some marital difficulties. But then, I'm 
not alone. I think that all marriages go through this phase sometime in the 
course of their existence." 

"What phase is that?" asked the precocious teen. 

"Oh, honey! You wouldn't understand." 

Kimberly decided to begin the game. She took a deep breath and explained, 
"My psychology teacher says that married women have a lot of trouble with 
sex these days. Is that right?" 

Pamela's jaw dropped. "Who ... what teacher said that?" 

"One of the sexual psychologists that we've got at school," Kimberly lied. 

"Our local high school now has sexual psychologists?" 

"Yes. It's a new fad. All the public schools are adding them to the staff." 

"My word! I hadn't heard a word about it." Suddenly the beautiful older 
woman was quite attentive to her daughter. She was now all ears. "What 
exactly did he ... or she ... mean by women having trouble with sex 
nowadays?" 

Kimberly smiled wickedly and replied, "Well, he said that if a woman got the 
marital blues it wasn't wrong for her to go out and get a little on the 
side." 

Pamela's eyes got as big as saucers. Her breathing stopped. "They're 
teaching that in school!" she exclaimed. 

"Yes. It seems that sex surveys prove that adultery actually strengthens a 
marriage." 

"What!" Pamela shouted in disbelief, nearly falling backward in her chair. 

"Yea. According to researchers: The woman who plays around, stays around." 

Pamela was turning a deep red. Not from anger, but from embarrassment. She 
wasn't quite sure how to react to this startling news. 

"I haven't shocked you have I, mom?" Kimberly asked, trying her best to keep 
from laughing. 

"No ... no honey," Pamela replied, unsure of what to think about her young 
innocent daughter and the damned public education system. She was utterly 
amazed at how far the city schools had progressed in discussing sexual 
matters. She had been under the impression that they just talked about the 
function of titties, penises, and vaginas, not about ... infidelity! 

And yet her daughter sounded as if she had studied the subject thoroughly. 
Pamela became curious. "How do you know that infidelity would solve my 
problem?" 

"Mom, you've got all the symptoms. You're nervous, fidgety, and on edge. 
You're frequently tense and irritable for no reason at all. Small incidents 
can send you into a senseless tantrum-like me, breaking this teacup. You've 
got all the signs that you need sexual relief. In other words, you need 
penis. It's written all over you." 

Again, Pamela was startled by her daughter's blunt diagnosis-but damn if she 
wasn't right. She did need penis. She needed it badly. Tom just couldn't 
satisfy her anymore-now that he had developed that beer gut and that 
ugly-looking middle-aged spread. It was awful fucking someone with a belly 
the size of Santa Claus. A beautiful woman shouldn't have to put up with 
something that gross. 

"You ought to go have yourself a fling, mom. Take a vacation. Get some cock. 
You might go crazy if you don't." 

Pamela looked at her daughter and said, "Honey, women don't go crazy from 
needing penis." 

"You want to bet? Why do you think there's more women in mental hospitals 
than men?" 

Pamela shook her head. 

"It's because a lot of them don't get screwed more than once a week." 

That statistic concerned Pamela greatly. She never got screwed more than 
once a week. She leaned forward and asked, "Are you serious about that?" 

"Absolutely." 

Pamela was now very concerned. What if her daughter were correct? She'd only 
been getting screwed once a week for the past fifteen years. And as she'd 
gotten older she noticed that she needed more penis. Once every Saturday 
night just didn't satisfy her anymore. Now she wanted it on week-nights and 
holidays. Maybe those sex researchers had uncovered some new evidence. Maybe 
what her daughter was saying was true. 

Kimberly could see that her mother was thinking things over. She decided to 
add some fuel to the flames. "Yea, they showed a film in class ... " 

Pamela's eyes lit up. "Tell me about it," she insisted. 

"Apparently the government has established these hospital-like treatment 
facilities all over the country which resemble the mental ward from 'One 
Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.' A lot of horny women are sent there for 
rehabilitation. A lot of the beautiful women walk around all the time 
whispering the word 'cock' over and over." 

Pamela nearly fainted. My god! she thought. Kimberly is describing me. I do 
need cock. I'll surely go nuts if I don't start getting it more than once a 
week. 

"What was the name of this film, Kimberly? I'd like to take a look at it." 

The young girl hadn't expected this question. She had to think quickly. "Er 
... I don't remember the precise name, but Mr. Eldridge has a copy in his 
storeroom." 

"Good. I've got to go see this for myself." 

"That wouldn't be a good idea," Kimberly said. 

"Why not?" 

"Mr. Eldridge likes to discuss explicit sexual matters in private." 

"Good. I'll call him up and ask him for an appointment." 

As the beautiful woman rushed over to the phone, Kimberly wondered if she 
hadn't gotten herself into really big trouble. After all, this was her 
mother she was fucking with, not some stranger. She realized that the only 
way for this scheme of hers to work would be for Mr. Eldridge to play along. 

Kimberly had used Bill Eldridge's name because every kid in high school knew 
that he was the horniest man on the faculty. He had at least three affairs 
going. One with the English teacher, Mrs. Abrams. One with the Science 
teacher, Mrs. Duncan. And one with the PE teacher, Miss Stevens. 

Kimberly thought about the women that Mr. Eldrige was involved with and 
quickly came to the conclusion that he would really like her mother. After 
all she was a tall blonde beauty possessing a knockout figure. 

Only a few moments passed before Pamela had Mr. Eldridge on the line. "Er 
... excuse me, sir, but are you my daughter's psychology teacher?" 

Kimberly hid behind the couch and snickered as she listened to the 
conversation. 

"I suppose so. I'm the only certified psychologist on the faculty. Now, what 
can I do for you?" 

"Well, my daughter says that you're sort of an authority on ... er ... 
sexual matters." 

Mr. Eldridge was suddenly all ears. "Well, I suppose I am. What exactly do 
you want to know about sexuality?" 

"I'd like for you to bring that sex education film over to my house so I can 
view it." 

"Sex education film? What sex education film?" 

From the corner, Kimberly was suddenly worried. Maybe Mr. Eldridge wasn't 
going to bite the bait after all. 

"The one which shows what happens to women when they don't get enough penis. 
You know, the one that shows them walking around a hospital mouthing the 
word 'cock'." 

Mr. Eldridge had to cover the mouthpiece so that he wouldn't be heard 
laughing. He immediately realized what was going on. Another gullible parent 
had fallen for a kid's hokey stories. When he regained his composure he 
decided to play along. "I'm sorry that I don't have that film here with me 
anymore. It's been loaned to another school for a few weeks. But, if you'd 
like me to come over and discuss sexual matters, I'd be more than happy to." 

Pamela felt a great sense of relief. She was excited. The thought of talking 
to a real live sexual authority meant that she might recover from her mental 
depression. "Sure. That would be okay. Why don't you come right over." 

"No problem." He got her address and then asked, "By the way, what did you 
say your name was?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Pamela Marchini. You have my daughter, Kimberly, in your 
psychology class." 

Mr. Eldridge sat bolt upright. "You're Kimberly's mother?" 

"Yes." 

He was beside himself. If the mother were a more mature version of the 
daughter, he realized that he may be stepping into pussy heaven. After all, 
Kimberly was by far the prettiest looking girl in any of his classes. She 
was already a knockout. Goodness knows what she would be like in a few more 
years. "I'll be right over." 

Pamela hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could help 
her. Maybe she didn't need to go to one of those pouting pussy homes. 

"What did he say, mother?" Kimberly asked 

"He's coming right over. We're going to discuss my marital problem." 

Kimberly still didn't know if she had overplayed her hand. She worried that 
Mr. Eldridge would come over and reprimand her. "I'll just go up and wait in 
my room, mom. If you need me, call me, okay?" 

"I will, honey." 

Hardly any time elapsed before Mr. Eldridge drove in front of the house and 
parked his car. He walked up the steps, rang the doorbell, and waited. He 
still didn't know what was going on, but he had a hunch. No doubt the young 
girl had gotten angry at her mother and this was her way of showing revenge. 
If the woman were a fat old bitch, he would simply explain things as he saw 
them and be on his way. On the other hand if she were young, attractive, and 
shapely ... hmmmm. 

The front door opened and a woman stepped forward and said, "Well hello. You 
must be Mr. Eldridge." 

He was flabbergasted by the sight in front of his eyes. The woman was a 
virtual blonde goddess. A walking Venus. A talking Aphrodite. He had never 
been this close to anything this great looking in all of his life. She was 
Cheryl Tiegs, Racquel Welch, and the top ten contenders in the swim suit 
competition from the Miss America contest all rolled up into one gorgeous 
female. 

The idea of ratting on the girl and leaving the scene was suddenly 
abandoned. "Hello. I'm Mr. Eldridge," he said with a shit-eating grin. "But 
you can call me Bill." 

"Very well, Bill. Step right this way." 

He brushed past her but kept his eyes focused on her magnificent tits. They 
appeared to be the size of firm little cantaloupes, just waiting to be 
fondled. He had fantasies about licking them, sucking them, and sticking his 
rock-hard dick between them for a genuine tit-fuck. 

Pamela directed him to a chair in the living room and said, "Here. Please 
sit down. Would you like anything to drink?" she asked with an all-American 
smile. 

"Er ... yes," he replied. "I'd like a cup of tea, or coffee, please." 

As she turned and scurried away to the kitchen, he surveyed her backside. He 
had a hard time controlling himself. The woman looked as good from the rear 
as she did from the front. A long narrow waist. Long lean legs. And an ass 
which could stop a runaway freight train. And she moved it too, wiggling it 
like she was serious about cock. 

He wondered what a woman like that would be doing asking a high school 
psychologist stupid sex questions. There was little doubt that a woman 
having a gorgeous body like that could get all the cock she wanted. Oh well, 
he'd simply wait and find out what her problem was. 

She returned after a few minutes, carrying a tray with two teacups. "Would 
you like tea and sugar?" she asked. 

"Please." 

She picked up the sugar cubes and asked, "One or two?" 

At that moment he had two on his mind. After all, she had two of the most 
magnificent tits he had ever seen, and two of the best looking asscheeks 
this side of Harlem. And as she bent over, their shape was accentuated that 
much more. 

She finished pouring her cup and sat down, smoothing her dress along her 
firm thighs. "So, my daughter tells me that you're quite the sex expert." 

He coughed several times and asked, "What exactly did she mention about me?" 

"She said that you know ... about women ... with my kind of problem." 

He took a sip of his beverage and asked, "What kind of problem is that?" 

She looked around, set her teacup down, and said, "I'm worried about being 
put in one of those hospitals. You know ... the kind for women who need sex 
all the time." 

"Er ... what all did Kimberly say ... exactly?" 

"She said that there are hospitals all over the country which resemble the 
mental ward in 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'. She said that they're for 
beautiful women who need sex constantly, and yet, can't get it." 

He looked at her. She was obviously sincere. The expression on her face told 
him that. "Why does a beautiful woman like you have trouble with sex?" 

"My husband has developed a beer gut during the last several years. Sex is 
no longer pleasurable for me. It's more of a drudgery. A thankless chore. No 
fun. Kimberly told me that in your class you explained that it was all right 
for a married woman to have an affair." 

"I did?" 

"That's what she said." 

"Oh yea, right. Right. I remember now." He was playing around for the sake 
of the game. 

She looked down into the teacup and quietly asked, "I was curious to know 
what you said about infidelity." 

Since he didn't know what she was talking about he asked, "What did Kimberly 
say I lectured on?" 

"I didn't get everything, but she said that extramarital affairs were all 
right if a spouse was sexually unsatisfied." 

Bill had to hand it to the young girl. He would have to give her an A for 
creativity. She had bullshitted her mother into believing nonsense. "Of 
course! That's exactly what I said," he replied with a smile. 

"Could you elaborate on it?" 

He had to think fast. He had to make up a bogus theory right on the spot. He 
knew that he could do it. He had done it hundreds of times for his bogus 
classes. "Well, whenever you get an itch down there between your legs, it's 
perfectly all right to have it satisfied by someone other than your husband. 
It's no longer frowned upon by society, and is actually quite healthy for 
the psyche." In order to reinforce his advice he asked, "You do fool around, 
don't you Mrs. Marchini?" 

"I'm almost ashamed to admit that I don't. I've been married to the same man 
now for seventeen years. I thought that he would always be able to take care 
of my sexual needs." 

"Ah ha!" he exclaimed. "You see! That's where you've been wrong. Marital sex 
always loses its luster after a given amount of time." He was doing his best 
to sound like one of those bullshit professors he had back in college. Some 
of them could talk their way out of anything. "Familiarity breeds contempt. 
Looking at the same person day after day becomes dull. You know their 
habits, their routines, their attitudes. On the other hand, variety is the 
spice of life." 

"So, you're saying that we've merely gotten bored with each other?" 

"That looks like it." 

"Does this mean that I should get a divorce?" 

"Oh no! It merely means that you should play around. Spread your thighs for 
a few new guys. Open up and let some new come in." 

She blushed at his sexual reference. "But I don't know any other men?" 

"Come on! A lovely lady like you! You could grab a guy off a street." He 
decided to take a chance. "Or hell! Better yet! Why not me?" 

Pamela looked at him in astonishment. At first she thought he was joking, 
but then she saw he wasn't. She blinked several times and stared at him. He 
really wasn't such a bad looking fellow. At least he didn't have a fucking 
beer belly. Although he could use a bit more hair on the top of his head, he 
had broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, strong arms, and a large chest. 
Now, if he only had a cock which could measure up to her wildest 
expectations. 

In the meantime, he scratched his head. He wondered what her trip was? 
Surely the woman wasn't as naive as she pretended. He realized that he could 
obviously make time with her-but would he want to? She seemed to have a 
screw loose in the upstairs balcony. Perhaps she wasn't as well-educated as 
he had earlier thought. He had been under the impression that she might be 
as smart as her lovely daughter. But that was apparently not the case. 
"You're not an alcoholic, are you Mrs. Marchini?" 

"No." 

"You're not on drugs or anything, are you?" 

"Of course not," she replied with a slightly indignant tone. 

"Have you ever been hospitalized for any kind of mental illness?" 

A look of deep depression washed over her beautiful and angelic face. A tear 
welled in the corner of her eye. "That's what I'm afraid of, doctor. I don't 
want to be admitted to a place where beautiful women walk around whispering 
the word 'cock' over and over. Help me avoid a place like that. Please." 

He was going to correct her for calling him a "doctor". After all, he only 
had a bachelor's degree in psychology. But he figured that he would let her 
error slide. Little mistakes like that could get him a long way if he played 
his cards right. 

"Exactly what is it that you feel you need out of life?" he asked. 

"I need sex," she replied with a sniffle. "Or at least more of it." 

He looked from her eyes to her breasts and then back to her eyes. If this 
woman were serious he might get to knock off a piece of her ass before the 
afternoon was over. He decided to see how far he could push her. "Pamela, is 
there anything wrong with your body?" 

"I don't think so. I keep myself fit and trim. I do calisthenics regularly. 
I eat properly. No junk food. No cholesterol." 

"Well, why don't you remove your dress. I'd like to have a look." 

She didn't flinch at all. She seemed to accept the request. "Maybe we better 
go to the bedroom." 

"Yea. That would probably be the best idea," he said, trying to keep a 
straight face. 

She stood, turned, and motioned for him to follow her. He would certainly do 
that-anywhere she wanted-any time at all. 

She walked up the stairs ahead of him. He couldn't get over the magnificent 
shape of her ass, nor the way it seemed to sashay back and forth as if it 
contained springs. 

"Right this way, doctor." 

He stepped into a typical middle class American bedroom and said, "Maybe you 
better close the door and lock it." 

"Good idea. I wouldn't want my daughter to hear what's going on." 

But, of course, Kimberly would. At that very moment she was perched in the 
closet peeking through the crack. "This is gonna be good," she said softly. 
"Horny Mr. Eldridge and my mom." 

"Now, let's see those tits," he said with his eyes open wide in a salacious 
stare. 

"Goodness!" Pamela replied. "I didn't know that doctors referred to breasts 
as tits." 

"Oh sure," he stuttered, worrying that he had made an irreparable faux pas. 
"We do it all the time. Especially us sex therapists. We've found out 
through years of counseling that people like earthy language instead of 
technical jargon. It makes them feel more at ease using the common 
vernacular." 

"You know, I kind of like it. It sounds sexy. Not so clinical. More down to 
earth." She reached behind her and unzipped the zipper. 

Mr. Eldridge continued his line of bullshit by saying, "Yea, over the years 
we've found that women especially like to talk dirty when they come to see 
us." 

"Really?" 

"Oh yea. They like for me to refer to their anatomy with the grossest street 
language." He paused for a moment to let that statement sink in. "Would you 
like me to refer to your individual body parts that way?" 

She blushed slightly before replying, "Well ... I guess so. Although I'm not 
used to a doctor using those terms." 

The straps slipped off her shoulders and down her long delicate arms. She 
wiggled her upper torso slightly, causing the most magnificent pair of tits 
he had ever seen on a female came into view. "You've got a nice pair of 
knockers there, lady." 

She giggled. "It's strange hearing someone besides my husband say that." 

Mr. Eldridge nearly had a heart attack right there on the spot. He had never 
bothered to consider the possibility that she might be married. "Er ... he's 
not around, is he?" 

"No matter if he is, he'd understand. After all, you're a doctor." 

Bill became quite worried. "Er ... I have to know that I won't be disturbed. 
It's important that the physical examination be conducted without any 
interruptions whatsoever." 

She saw his look of concern and quickly answered, "No. He's away for the 
day. He's not expected back until late tonight." 

"Good. That gives me plenty of time." He wanted to reach forward and embrace 
her. Actually, he wanted to rip her clothes off and fuck her in the middle 
of the floor, but he figured that would be uncouth and loutish. And of 
course no man wants to sound like a common lout around a beautiful dame. He 
looked back at her body and commented, "You have very large nipples." 

"Is there something wrong with that?" she asked anxiously. 

"Oh no, no. Quite to the contrary. Large nipples are a sign of beauty. It's 
a sign that your tits are in terrific shape." 

"But what does it me in terms of sexuality, doc?" 

"Er ... the larger the nipple the more likely the woman is to please her 
man." 

"But I want to be pleased, doctor. Me! I'm the one who's starving for 
orgasm." 

"Perhaps you better remove all of your clothes. I have to examine the entire 
body." 

Bill was finding it difficult to stand straight. He had a hard-on the likes 
of which he had never had before. The damn thing was tenting the front of 
his trousers. It looked like he had a live kitten wiggling around down 
there. 

The dress fell to her knees and she stood before him, clad in only the 
briefest, shearest pair of bikini panties imaginable. Her pubic mound could 
be seen clearly through the thin fabric. Even the slit of her pussy could be 
discerned without any extra effort at all. 

"You may remove your underwear," he said with a gulp, barely able to speak. 
He blinked his eyes. He wondered how doctors did it. Sure, he understood how 
they could handle the sight of women who weren't very good-looking, but 
women who resembled Pamela could give a hard-on to a lizard. There had to be 
a fucking taking place in those hospital examining rooms. 

He feasted his eyes on her body. She was the living embodiment of a sailor's 
wet dream. Everywhere a woman was supposed to be shapely-she was shapely. 
Everywhere a woman was supposed to be rounded-she was rounded. There wasn't 
an ounce of fat evident on her body. She was lean and firm and the most 
beautiful creature he had ever seen. How any husband could let someone so 
gorgeous remain sexually unfulfilled was a mystery which left him 
dumbfounded. The guy was obviously a jerk. 

When her pussy popped into view, he nearly choked on his tongue. Damn! If it 
wasn't the prettiest sight he had ever seen. Blonde and oval-shaped. Pouty 
and without much hair. The kind that a man could really get his face into. 

He smiled and said, "Lady, you've got the best looking body I've ever seen." 

"Oh surely you've seen hundreds like mine, doctor." 

How could he admit to her that this was his first "official" examination. 
"Well, I have seen a few in my time, but yours is still remarkable." 

"What do you want me to do?" 

He wanted to tie her up and fuck her brains out, but he kept himself in 
check. That treat would come soon enough. "Why don't you lie down on the bed 
with your knees bent and your legs spread wide. I have to check to make sure 
that your cunt is functioning normally." 

She walked over to the edge of the bed, sat down, leaned back, and scooted 
toward the headboard. When she felt that she was in position, she brought 
her knees up and then spread them as wide as possible. 

Holy shit! Bill thought. I'm staring into paradise. I don't know if I can 
keep my sperm in my pecker. It wants out so damn badly. 

"Close your eyes, lady. I want to try something." 

She did as requested. 

Bill couldn't hold himself one second longer. He reached down and unzipped 
himself. He pulled out his rock-hard cock and aimed it at her golden blonde 
cunt. Without further ado, he placed his magic eight-inch wand at the center 
core of her vagina and pressed forward. 

"Oh! Oh!" she moaned. "What are you doing?" 

"I have to test to see if you're okay down here." 

"But that's your penis," she said with some alarm evident in the tone of her 
voice. 

"That's the way we sex researchers have to check. We have to see how snug 
you are in your pelvic region. It could be that you're too tight for your 
husband. Now, just close your eyes and lie back. This will only take a few 
minutes." 

"Isn't this illegal?" she asked. "Isn't there supposed to be a nurse 
present?" 

"My dear, you're the one who asked me over here at a moment's notice." 

"Well ... all right. But I didn't know that sex research was so ... 
rudimentary." 

"Ah ... you'd be surprised at how we academics gain our knowledge." 

From her secret hideaway in the closet, Kimberly was watching everything 
which was transpiring. By god! She had actually done it. She had actually 
contrived a scenario whereby her mother was willingly putting out! She now 
knew what her master's thesis would be. 

As she watched Mr. Eldrige get into position, she hoisted the hem of her 
dress and bunched it around her waist, holding it in place with her left 
hand. With her right hand she reached beneath the elastic of her panties and 
felt her pubic mound. Mmm! It was moist and wet. Just like mom's was at that 
very moment. 

She stuck a finger into her slit and began rubbing it up and down the length 
of that magic furrow. And when her digit was good and moist, she slipped it 
inside the vagina and began pumping it in and out-just like Mr. Eldridge was 
doing at that very moment. 

Meanwhile Pamela arched her back as the cock slid into her and said, 
"Ahhhhh! I needed this. I really needed this." 

"Mmm. Quiet lady. I'm testing." 

"You test all that you want. It feels terrific." 

Bill had his dick in the most beautiful cunt on the face of the earth. It 
was warm, tight, and moist. It was everything that a horny bastard could ask 
for. Surely he had done something right recently to get to nail a broad like 
this. And she wasn't happy to just lie there either. She was writhing and 
thrashing her body about like a well-trained Brooklyn hooker. 

He reached down and fondled her breasts. They were true marvels to behold. 
Firm, not squishy. Well-rounded and upturned, not sagging. They were the 
kind of tits which women in Beverly Hills paid handsomely for. Schoolboys 
drooled over similar beauties, and artists from around the world tried their 
damnedest to sculpt them. To put it simply: they were the apotheosis of 
feminine perfection. 

Pamela breathed heavily. Yes, Bill certainly did have a cock which measured 
up to her expectations. And he knew how to use it too. Wow! Did he ever! But 
then, of course he would know a great deal more than the average man. After 
all he was a medical doctor specializing in sex research. He tested cunts 
all the time with his pecker. 

Kimberly watched the massive penis burrow into and out of her mother, while 
at the same time finger-fucking herself. She found this better entertainment 
than MTV. It sure beat the Disney Channel. 

Pamela lifted her long lovely legs and wrapped them around the doctor. She 
wanted to hold him as tight as possible. She needed his come. She wanted his 
come. She had to have it. 

Kimberly watched from the other room. She was surprised that her mother was 
bucking and thrashing about more with Mr. Eldridge than she did with her 
dad. 

"Oh cock! Cock! Give me cock!" Pamela begged. "I want cock! Please give it 
to me." 

Bill laughed. "What do you think I've been giving you, lady? Marshmallow 
pudding?" 

"Oh cock! Glorious cock! Mmm! There's nothing finer. Mmm! Mmm!" 

"I'll tell you a little secret." 

"Mmmm, what's that?" 

"I think that cunt is pretty special as well." 

"Mmmm, Mmmm. Mmmm. Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm going! I'm going! Arrrrgggghhhh!" 

He looked down at the blonde beauty. His fat dick was still buried in her 
tight nether aperture. Their sexual secretions were still mingling. Even 
though his meat was deflating, her vagina was still nibbling. He watched her 
labia moving by themselves. Together they resembled a hungry little mouth. 
However, instead of needing food, it needed cock. Instead of sucking on 
lollipops, it sucked on dick. 

"Lady, you definitely pass inspection," he said with a smile while patting 
her firm tummy. 

She was just coming down from an ecstatic sexual high. She felt terrific. 
She felt wonderful. She felt fucked. Royally, completely, expertly. 

She felt his hand pat her tummy. For some reason that seemed like the 
sweetest sensation in the world. Like a farmer tending her little garden. 
After all, he had just planted a few billion seeds in her hothouse. 

"Mmmm!" she moaned with a sense of well-being. "I wish I would have known 
about this kind of treatment a long time ago. I could have been walking 
around in a state of perpetual sexual bliss." 

"They say that fucking makes a woman smile more often. The Chinese have a 
proverb which states that a sexually satisfied woman smiles frequently." 

"You know, I've heard that somewhere before," she replied. "I think that's 
why that little Melissa Cunningham always has a smile on her face. Rumor has 
it that she fucks like a mink." 

Bill was proud of himself. He had managed to bullshit his way through the 
afternoon. And even more incredibly, he had managed to knock off a piece of 
ass on top of it. Ha! Now he knew how a university professor felt. 
Bullshitting his or her way through life, and being paid handsomely for it. 

He needed to split the scene before the husband came home. The last thing 
that he wanted was another fist fight like he had at Mrs. Blackwell's. He 
had learned from that experience that a hubby can get pretty violent over 
some other man using his wife's pussy. Hence, he didn't want to run the risk 
of being found in bed by Mr. Marchini. 

"Well lady, I hate to cut this sexual session short but I've got to run. 
I've ... er ... got other patients that I've got to take care of." 

"But doctor! Surely you just can't leave me like this! What should I do if 
the symptoms return?" 

"I suggest that you get yourself a permanent lover-someone who appreciates 
your beautiful body and knows how to fuck." 

"Will I see you again, doctor?" 

He was going to reply that it would be impossible considering the 
circumstances, but one more glance at her body caused him to salivate at the 
mouth again. "We'll see. Hopefully you will no longer need my professional 
services." 

Just looking at her was giving him another hard-on. He knew that if he 
didn't get away soon he would have to fuck her again. 

As he gathered his clothes he noticed that she was petting her pussy, 
running her fingers up and down the length of her moistened furrow. 
Occasionally she would pause and dip her index finger into the open sheath. 

She saw him looking at her and asked, "Are you really sure that you want to 
go? I could use another round of your special therapy." 

To emphasize her need she spread her legs wider and opened the lips of her 
cunt with her fingers. He could peer directly into her womanly hole. 

He buttoned his shirt and said, "I'm sorry. I've got to run. Really." 

Kimberly watched him leave the bedroom and close the door. She was beside 
herself with joy. She had done it! She had orchestrated a triumph equal to 
that of the Wright Brothers. She was so heady with a feeling of success that 
she couldn't wait to plan the next operation. What would she try next? She 
couldn't wait for another lewd idea to pop into her head. 

She sat back on her lovely young developing ass and smiled. Maybe she was 
really cut out to be a sex researcher. She seemed to have worked wonders on 
her mother a la Mr. Eldridge. 

In the meantime, Bill ran to the nearest pay telephone and made a call. He 
had to tell his best friend about the incredible experience. "Harry! Is that 
you?" 

"Sure is," answered the gruff voice on the other end of the line. 

"Harry, I've got a story for you that you're not going to believe." 

"Shoot." 

"There's a gorgeous blonde over here by the name of Pamela Marchini. And 
when I say 'gorgeous' I mean it. The woman could be Playmate of the Year if 
she wanted." 

"Sure Bill!" 

"I'm not bullshitting. She's got knockers that you wouldn't believe, legs 
that seem to go on forever, and an ass that could stir milkshakes when it 
gets worked up. Anyway, she has this teenage kid who's in one of my 
psychology classes. I think I told you about her-Kimberly Marchini. Already 
she's a real looker and she's only fifteen years old. Anyway, the kid told 
her mother that she needed cock ... " 

"Who? The kid?" 

"No. The mother." 

"I don't follow you," said Harry. 

"The kid played some kind of a practical joke on her mother. Apparently the 
kid passed me off as some kind of a sexual Svengali, able to rekindle 
libidos and reawaken lust." 

"What!" 

"Yea. And that ain't the best part. The woman actually believed the kid. She 
called me at school and practically demanded that I service her. Ain't that 
a riot?" 

"Holy shit! She actually fell for it?" 

"Yep." 

"And you got to fuck her?" 

"Yep." 

"Are you sure all of this is on the up-and-up, Bill?" 

"I'm up, if that's what you mean." 

"Cute. I meant that maybe this is a mother-daughter hooker operation." 

"No. I don't think so. Besides, the kid wasn't there. I simply played along 
with her scheme. I believe it's just a simple case of landing in 
Gullibility, USA." 

"I don't know, Bill. I'd be worried about something like this." 

"Why do you say that, Harry?" 

"I find it hard to believe that a woman who could be Playmate of the Year 
would need sexual therapy from a balding psychology teacher. This could be a 
vice squad operation or something. Maybe entrapment. Who knows?" 

"No. It's like I said. It was nothing more than a practical joke played by a 
very bright kid on a very dumb, but incredibly good-looking mother." 

"Hmph! No good-looking broad could be that stupid." 

"Well, you haven't met Pamela Marchini." Bill concluded the conversation and 
hung up the phone. Even though he had just gotten his rocks off, and every 
last ounce of sperm had been deposited inside the lovely blonde's hole, he 
was beginning to feel a bit ill-at-ease. Maybe Harry was correct. Maybe it 
was an entrapment thing of some sort. Maybe one of his many mistresses was 
documenting evidence of his numerous perversions. 

Oh shit! That meant that he might lose his cushy job as a teacher. Oh double 
shit! That meant that he might have to work June, July, and August. Oh 
triple shit! Those were the only reasons that he became a teacher. 

Suddenly he brightened. He just remembered that half the faculty in his high 
school were fucking around on the side anyway. Some were even involved in 
bisexual and homosexual relationships. And that geography teacher was even 
suspected of doing animals on the side. They said that's why he smelled like 
a barnyard all the time. 

Bill breathed a sigh of relief. He had nothing to worry about. If they fired 
him they'd have to fire half the school board. 

 CHAPTER 3 

Later that afternoon Pamela walked around the kitchen just as happy as she 
could be. Getting something shoved up her snatch had made a tremendous 
difference in her attitude. 

No longer was she feeling nervous and jittery. Now she felt happy and free. 
Even the colors of the world seemed different. Blues appeared bluer. Greens 
appeared greener. Yellows and oranges seemed to be more dazzling. On the 
whole, life itself seemed better. She felt wonderful. 

She realized that Doctor Eldridge had been right. A married woman did need a 
little fling every once in a while to keep her cunt happy. Variety really 
was the spice of life. Monogamy really does become monotonous. 

Kimberly sat at the kitchen table watching her mother with considerable 
interest. She couldn't get over how much she had changed in just a few short 
hours. "You sure look a lot better this afternoon, mom. Did Mr. Eldridge 
give you any magic remedies?" 

Kimberly saw her beautiful mother blush. In fact, she seemed to turn a deep 
crimson color. "Honey, I'm going to have to ask you to do something for me." 

"Anything mom. What is it?" 

"I don't want you to tell daddy that I've been seeing a sex therapist. I 
don't think that he would take very kindly to the idea." 

"Why not?" 

"Well ... er ... he's Italian and Italian men are overly-serious about 
certain things-especially when it comes to sex." 

Kimberly looked at her and smiled. "Did Mr. Eldridge give you his 
super-duper special treatment?" 

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked with an insincere tone in her voice. 

"Did he give your pussy an inspection?" 

Again Pamela blushed. "You shouldn't use such language." 

Kimberly picked up on what she had heard earlier in the bedroom. "Why not? 
That's how they refer to it in all the biology books these days." 

"You're kidding!" Pamela exclaimed. 

"Really," the young girl replied with a straight face. "They now refer to 
penis as 'dick', vagina as 'pussy', and testicles as 'balls'. The new age 
biology books are just chock-full of 'cunt' and 'cock' and 'dick' and 
'balls' and 'fucking' and 'sucking'. You can't believe what's been happening 
to textbooks. It seems as if the sexual revolution has finally caught up 
with them." 

"My goodness!" Pamela whispered. "Things sure have changed since I was in 
high school. And to think, we all thought we were all so sexually advanced 
back in the seventies." 

"Did your vagina pass inspection or didn't it?" 

Again the older woman blushed. "It passed. He said that there was nothing 
wrong with it. It just needed a little servicing, that's all." 

"And ... did he service you?" 

"Well ... this is strictly girl talk ... but ... yes. He serviced me quite 
well." 

"Mom! That's terrific!" Kimberly leaned over and kissed her mother on the 
cheek. "I'm so happy for you. Didn't I tell you that you needed a penis to 
make you feel better?" 

Pamela smiled. "Yes you did. And you were right." 

"How long are you going to continue the treatment?" 

"Er ... how long? I don't understand." 

"Surely you're not going to stop with one lube job, are you? It wouldn't be 
practical." 

"Gee. I hadn't thought of that." 

"Oh come on, mom. Surely you don't expect daddy to fulfill your newly 
awakened needs. After all, he was the reason that you had to put-out for 
another man to start with." 

Pamela hadn't given much thought to this dilemma. It was quite apparent that 
she needed to continue the therapy, otherwise she would slip back into a 
deep psychological depression. She needed to continue practicing the 
super-duper special treatment until she was completely well. 

Kimberly saw that a seed had been planted in her mother's mind. The woman 
was deep in thought. 

"Maybe I can convince Tom to finally lose some weight. Then I wouldn't need 
to go out hunting for cock." 

"Mom! You've been attempting to get daddy to lose weight for ten years. He 
hasn't lost one ounce of fat since I was a toddler. He just keeps getting 
chubbier and chubbier and chubbier." 

"But ... there has to be some other way. I don't want to start hitting 
singles bars-especially not with the Aids thing going around." 

The teenager realized that her mother had a very good point. She didn't want 
a practical joke to result in someone contracting the Aids virus. That just 
wouldn't be a ladylike thing to do. Instead, she needed to figure out some 
way to get her mom a risk-free fuck. 

 CHAPTER 4 

Several nights later Uncle John came over for dinner. He resembled his 
brother Tom in many ways, except that he was taller, much leaner, and more 
physically fit. Kimberly always thought the he looked like a black-haired 
version of Richard Chamberlain. 

Everyone sat around the dinner table discussing bullshit about numerous 
bullshit subjects-such as the weather, politics, and religion. Kimberly 
couldn't comprehend why people spent so much time talking about subjects 
which they really didn't care about. Nobody cared a flying fuck about the 
weather. Everyone had central air nowadays. 

She realized that the only thing which really mattered in adult 
relationships was sex. Through the crack in the wall she had learned that 
every other topic of conversation was merely tolerated until that time in 
the evening when penises sprang to upright attention and pussies flowered 
open. Once the sexual secretions started dripping, then conversation didn't 
matter at all. Humanity then commenced speaking in a series of grunts and 
groans-just like the animals of the forest and the beasts of the field. 

So much for the supposed superiority of mankind. 

Halfway through the meal Tom got a phone call. He came back to the dinner 
table and said, "I'm sorry. That's the office. There's a problem with the 
computer. I've got to go down and supervise." 

"Oh honey!" Pamela moaned. "Can't it wait?" 

"I'm sorry. It can't. You know how these computer glitches are. Once they 
screw up, they really screw up." 

"How long will you be gone, daddy?" Kimberly asked. 

"Probably all night. These things take time to repair, you know." 

Tom left, leaving Kimberly and her mother alone with Uncle John. The 
youngster decided that the time had come to play the next phase of her 
practical joke. She turned to John and said, "You and my dad look a lot 
alike-except that he's a lot heavier." 

"His weight comes from drinking all of those beers," said John. 

"Yes. But you're really fit. Don't you think that he's in great shape, mom?" 

Pamela looked at him and said, "Yes. He's in fine shape." 

"You have a thin waist," commented the teenager. "That's kind of rare on 
older men." 

"I do a lot of sit-ups. That keeps the waist small." 

"Do you do any kind of other special exercises?" 

"Like what?" 

"Do you have sex very often?" 

He was surprised. He hadn't expected his niece to ask such an intimate 
question. He looked at her and saw that she was smiling. The expression on 
her face was positively incestuous. "Well ... er ... ah ... " 

"You sure look like you could give those women a run for their money. 
Doesn't he look like a stud, mom?" 

Pamela looked over at him and said, "He's very handsome." 

"He's better looking than pop, huh?" 

"Now Kimberly! You're father's a very handsome man. He just has a little 
weight problem, that's all." 

"A little weight problem!" exclaimed the youngster. "That's like saying 
Death Valley is a little hot in the summertime. C'mon mom! Be reasonable. 
He's turning into a real porker. In the not too distant future he'll give 
Moby Dick a run for the money." 

Secretly Pamela admitted that John was very handsome indeed. The man was 
everything that her husband wasn't. Oh sure, Tom had once been a great 
looking guy in his own right, but that had been twelve years ago. He'd gone 
to flab since then-especially during the past several years. 

"You haven't said how often you have sex, John," Kimberly teased. "Come on! 
Tell us. How often?" 

"Oh, I get it often enough," he replied. 

"How often is often?" 

"Often enough to keep me happy." 

"Do you get it from women who are as pretty as my mom?" 

Again he was thrown by the intimacy of the question. Actually, he had never 
made love with a woman as attractive as his sister-in-law. Never! He had 
stuck his dick into a lot of vaginas over the years, but he had always had a 
fantasy of fucking Pamela. It went all the way back to her wedding day when 
he saw her standing in her bridal gown. He sat in the front pew of the 
church looking at her magnificent figure the entire time. He just couldn't 
figure out how his brother had landed such a beautiful piece of ass. 

John noted that as Tom had gotten older and flabbier, Pamela had grown more 
beautiful. She still had the same shape that she had on her wedding day, and 
the same alluring face. Her tits may have gotten a little larger, but that 
was due to maturity, not sag. She was still the best looking female in the 
county. 

Pamela smiled at John and said, "Kimberly's mind runs a lot on sex these 
days. I suppose it's just a phase that teens go through. She has herself a 
psychology teacher who is very knowledgeable on sexual matters ... " 

Kimberly saw her chance and leaped on it. "Yea! He even came over to our 
house and gave mom some lessons," she interrupted. 

Pamela's mouth dropped open and her eyes opened wide. She hadn't expected 
that comment. 

"Really?" asked John curiously, looking from the daughter to the mother. 
"What kind of lessons?" 

"Go on-tell him, mom," Kimberly said with a wicked smile. "Tell him about 
the super-duper special treatment." 

The older woman was utterly flabbergasted. "Er ... er ... he ... er ... just 
showed me some ... er ... techniques, that's all." 

"Mom apparently learned a lot." 

Again Pamela blushed. 

John could tell the dinner conversation had taken a most interesting turn, 
but he couldn't quite figure out what was transpiring. 

Kimberly turned to him and said, "But I bet you know a lot more than that 
silly old sex instructor, don't you Uncle John?" 

"Well ... er ... uh ... " 

"Don't be shy. Tell us what you know." 

"Well ... er ... uh ... " 

Pamela turned to her daughter and said, "Kimberly, why don't you be quiet 
for a while. It's obvious that John doesn't want to talk about this." 

"Oh heck, mom! It's only sex. We talk about it all the time in school." 

"Quiet!" 

"Okay mom," the youngster agreed. She looked over at her uncle and noticed a 
very large bulge. Obviously her ribald discussion had had its intended 
effect. Johnny-Boy had a tremendous hard-on. The poor fellow probably had 
pre-ejaculatory semen rising in his testes, dribbling out in little 
droplets. "Are you going to stay overnight, Uncle John?" Kimberly asked. 

"No honey. I should really get back." 

"Oh come on-stay," she pouted. "I want you to. Besides, daddy's not here and 
we need a man around." 

He looked at her and smiled. "Well, sure. Why not." 

"Oh great," Kimberly exclaimed. "We can spend the whole evening talking 
about sexual things." 

Pamela couldn't believe how her daughter was talking. The youngster was 
obviously hanging out with a new crowd at school-the wrong crowd. After all, 
Kimberly had always been so well-behaved and well-mannered. Throughout the 
years she had always done her chores with a courteous attitude, and always 
went to bed on time. In fact, unlike a lot of teens, she never tried to stay 
up until all hours of the night. 

John laughed. "What's with this sexual preoccupation that my niece has?" 

Pamela explained, "Apparently the schools are stressing it these days. She 
says that the textbooks are a lot more interesting than they used to be ... 
" 

Kimberly interrupted her mother and added, "And the instructors know their 
subject matter a lot better, don't they mom?" 

Pamela had had it. She politely turned to her daughter and said, "Kimberly 
honey, why don't you go do your chores? Do the laundry, okay?" 

"Sure thing, mom," she said politely, excusing herself from the table and 
hurrying off to do the laundry. But this was going to be a laundry day that 
her mother wouldn't soon forget. She went into Pamela's bedroom and grabbed 
all of her mother's nightgowns. She then threw them in the washer and soaked 
them thoroughly. Then, instead of throwing them into the dryer, she simply 
set them aside. She wanted to make sure that her mother didn't have anything 
proper to wear that night-that is, except for the Frederick's of Hollywood 
short-short nightie. 

John could sense that there was something unusual taking place between the 
daughter and mother, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Ironically, 
whatever it was seemed to pertain to sex. 

He smiled as he sipped his wine. He began to believe that he had made the 
right choice in agreeing to spend the night. Things might get fairly 
interesting later on. 

Kimberly walked back and forth from the laundry room to the kitchen, always 
carrying a bottle of wine, or gin, or bourbon, and asking, "Would you like 
another drink, mom? How about you, Uncle John?" 

They were both sipping their martinis, and Kimberly was always replacing the 
amount that they had drunk. It wasn't long before the two adults had grown 
progressively tipsy. When they became thoroughly inebriated, Kimberly began 
playing the practical joke seriously. 

Earlier, when she had first been sent to do the laundry, she had turned up 
the thermostat so that the indoor temperature soon hovered around ninety 
degrees. When she figured that the adults had gotten miserable enough she 
stood close to her mother and said, "Wow! It's hot in here! Whew! Does 
anyone mind if I open my blouse?" 

Since Pamela was entering into a full alcoholic stupor, the question did not 
register completely on her mind. She simply nodded and agreed that it was 
hot. 

Uncle John, meanwhile, didn't think that he was in a position to argue with 
Pamela. After all, Kimberly was her daughter, and he was merely in her house 
as a visitor. 

Kimberly didn't waste any time. She stood up and began unbuttoning her 
blouse. She made certain that she stood in John's field of vision. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was his own niece. She was 
getting ready to disrobe right in front of him. He felt like telling her to 
stop, but as the cleavage came into view and the chance to see her 
developing teenage breasts became a definite possibility, he reconsidered. 
Underneath his facade of gentlemanly behavior was a closet hedonist. Like 
most men he had two personalities. One which was powered by his brain, the 
other by his cock. Obviously, he was in a situation where the cock had the 
most influence. It was already standing up erect as if it had a mind of its 
own and was waiting for the next button of Kimberly's blouse to come undone. 

Kimberly let her breasts pop free and sighed, "Ahhh! That feels good! 
Especially on a hot night like this." She lifted her arms above her head and 
stretched, making sure that her tits were displayed to their best advantage. 
She even turned toward Uncle John so that he could have a long appreciative 
glance. 

And glance he did. His eyes seemed to round into ovals the size of Hershey 
Bars. He bit his lip and admired the view. She was even better endowed than 
he had first imagined. The tits were already the size of cantaloupes, and 
the nipples were nearly the size of silver dollars. Since she was only 
fifteen, her tits would certainly get bigger as she matured. 

Kimberly turned to her mother and said, "C'mon mom. It's your turn. Show 
your stuff." 

The words weren't really registering on Pamela's mind. Six martinis were 
definitely having an effect on her mental faculties. She seemed to be in a 
daze. Everything appeared foggy. She squinted at her daughter to see what 
was going on. 

Pamela blinked her eyes several times. It seemed that Kimberly had removed 
her blouse. She could see her daughter's tits dangling in front of her. 
Maybe she was supposed to do the same thing. 

She reached up and began unbuttoning her own blouse, awkwardly and 
haphazardly. She looked at her daughter and said, "Actually you're right, 
Kimberly. It is too damn hot in here. "She didn't have any qualms about 
taking off her blouse at that moment. She had no qualms about anything. 
Qualms were something which vanished after the fourth martini. When one of 
the buttons stuck, she simply ripped the dress open, letting her tits plop 
free. "Ahhh! That feels a lot better. Whew! It really does." 

John turned his attention from the young woman's breasts to those of the 
mother. Now those were tits! They were the color of peaches and tipped with 
huge strawberries. Beautiful! Simply fucking beautiful! 

Very few women had tits which were as large and as pretty. If a female 
possessed larger ones, they usually weren't symmetrical. One usually hung 
lower than the other, or was less fully developed, or sagged in comparison. 
If she possessed pretty titties, they usually weren't large enough to play 
with. They often were the champagne glass variety-ones which could fit in 
the palm of one's hand. 

But these suckers were genuine Blue Ribbon Specials. Melon size. 
Symmetrical. Perfect. Baby makers. 

Kimberly looked at her uncle and asked, "Don't you think that mom has a 
beautiful pair of tits, John?" 

Pamela laughed loudly over the lewd reference to her breasts. And as she 
laughed, they jiggled nicely, up and down and from side to side, as if they 
had springs in them. 

John's eyes bobbed up and down with the bobbing of the titties. His pupils 
were fixed on the pupils themselves. He had them locked in sight and 
wouldn't let them out of his field of vision. They seemed to be staring him 
right in the eyes. In fact, they resembled eyes. Big strawberry eyes. Big 
alluring eyes. Appetizing, savory, succulent eyes. 

He started to drool at the mouth. Everything that he had ever dreamed about 
Pamela's body seemed to be true. It was one of those rare types which looked 
even better without clothes. 

Kimberly turned her attention back to John and said, "Hey! This isn't fair." 

He blinked his eyes and asked, "What do you mean?" 

"We girls have taken off our tops. It's time for you to take off yours." 

He didn't bat an eyelash. He simply did as he was told. After all, it was 
hotter than the fucking blue blazes inside the house. He didn't know where 
the situation was leading. He simply rationalized that it wouldn't get very 
far out of hand. Besides, what was the harm in a little friendly partial 
nudity amongst family members? 

When he was stripped all the way to the waist Kimberly whistled and said, 
"Wow! Hey mom! Doesn't Uncle John have a great looking chest compared to 
dad's? It's all muscle and strong." 

Pamela was still in a drunken stupor, yet she was staring at the handsome 
body nevertheless. "Yes honey," she replied. "He is very nice looking." 

Kimberly reached down between her legs and squeezed her pubis. "Oooh! Just 
looking at him makes me all moist between the thighs. Doesn't he have the 
same effect on you, mom?" 

Again Pamela began laughing hysterically and again her titties jiggled 
delightfully. She didn't know where her daughter had learned to talk like 
that, but she found it very amusing. Apparently the high schools were 
advising the students to talk like that way at home. Oh well, she supposed 
that was progress. She just wished that she could have talked the same way 
around her parents. She would have loved to have said the word "fuck" at the 
dinner table. "Yes, yes, yes!" she replied when she had caught her breath. 
"I get moist between my thighs whenever I look at Uncle John." 

Kimberly turned to John and asked, "Doesn't looking at my mom make you all 
hard?" 

Even he was getting in on the spirit of things. "It sure does. But then, 
I've always thought your mother was an attractive looking woman." 

Those words seemed to land in Pamela's brain with a sudden softness. She 
wanted to reach across the table and embrace her brother-in-law and hold him 
tight to her body. She had always been a pushover for affectionate words 
which were spoken from the heart. She realized that too many people nowadays 
spoke with a forked tongue. Everyone seemed to be promoting bullshit-in 
their careers and in their personal lives. Thus, when an individual came 
along and actually said something which was truly felt, she would always 
feel a sense of compassion. 

Kimberly leaned back and said, "You know, it's so damn hot in here that I'm 
just gonna take off my skirt too. I hope you guys don't mind." Without 
further ado she simply reached down and pulled her skirt down her legs 
before throwing it off. 

John was getting used to clothing flying hither and thither around the room. 
He looked at Kimberly as she stood up and stretched again. He couldn't get 
over how attractive she was for a fifteen-year-old. There was little doubt 
that she would be a knockout in only a year or two. Her breasts were already 
nearly as large as those of her mother. Her waist was incurving and shapely 
without a smidgen of fat on it whatsoever. Her legs were long, lean, and 
shapely. Her navel was indented. She was a real looker all right. 

"How about you, mom? Aren't you hot between your legs? Why don't you take 
your skirt off?" 

Pamela agreed. She stood awkwardly and reached down to unzip her skirt and 
pull it off. She was amazed at how dizzy she felt. Nevertheless, she managed 
to get her hands into the waistband and pull it down. 

John couldn't believe what he was watching. Not only was Pamela taking her 
skirt off, but she was also taking off her slip and her panties at the same 
time. The woman who he had had fantasies about for the past fifteen years 
was about to be completely exposed. 

Pamela nearly fell over when she got the skirt all the way down to her 
ankles, but she managed to step out, one foot at a time. Immediately she up 
straight, right beside her daughter. 

John focused his eyes on that spot just below her belly button. It had a 
pronounced effect on his libido. He realized that spot was where everything 
significant took place. That was the nest of human history. That was the 
sacred territory of humankind. That was the ultimate target of every hard-on 
ever lifted in lust. Everything in this world worth having was securely 
enclosed within those few square inches of womanly flesh. 

He tried very hard to remember that she was his sister-in-law. He closed his 
eyes and tried to recall the law. What did it say about statutory rape? Were 
in-laws covered? In many ways it seemed as if he were about to have incest. 
After all, she was a relative-albeit not related by blood. And yet, as 
quickly as any doubts had washed over him, they vanished. His pecker had 
taken over his thought processes. He had a rock-like hard-on that just 
wouldn't stay down, and he could see that she had a warm tight slit. At that 
moment, those two facts outweighed all other considerations of the legal 
aspects or those of morality. Oh sure, maybe one day he would regret his 
actions, but that would be when he was in a wheelchair and could no longer 
get it up. Now was the time for fucking. Full speed ahead. 

Kimberly walked around the table and said, "When I get older I hope that my 
legs are as smooth and silky as mom's. Just feel them," she asked as she 
took John's hand and placed it on Pamela's thigh. 

"Mmmm! That feels nice," sighed Pamela, feeling the stimulation of the 
masculine hand and the effects of the alcohol. 

John was going to remove his hand in protest, but the sighs of the lovely 
older woman made him keep it in place. Besides, her thigh felt so firm and 
soft beneath his palm. 

Kimberly had seen the way that John had looked at her mother's body. She 
knew her uncle was turned on. "John!" exclaimed the youngster. "Take off 
your pants. It's not fair that we don't have any clothes on, but you do." 

Again he wanted to protest, but decided to just go along with the flow. When 
in Rome, do as the Romans do. Besides, they were all family. What harm could 
be done with a little friendly nudity amongst relatives? He rationalized 
that things weren't getting out of control. Besides, there was no sense in 
remaining clothed when everyone else in the room was nude. 

He quickly removed his pants, socks, and underwear. He kicked them off 
without any reservation. 

"Here," said Kimberly. "Sit next to mom so you can feel her thigh better. 
Or, better yet, stand up and walk over to the couch and sit down. It'll be 
more comfy for all of us." 

He was merely following orders. He walked over and sat down first. Pamela 
had difficulty walking, but she managed to follow him. She seemed to be lost 
somewhere in la-la land. She forgot where she was and who she was. Luckily 
there were just enough brain cells working for her to find her way to the 
couch. She turned around and sat smack in the middle of his lap. 

John had an immense hard-on, which nudged her into her buttocks. "Oooh my!" 
she giggled, wiggling her ass back and forth, taking delight in the 
sensation of his genitals against hers. 

John began to worry that things were getting out of hand. But still he 
didn't complain. After all, he had wanted to be in this position for years. 
This was his dream come true. One thing he noted about Pamela was the 
incredibly sensual feel of her flesh. She was firm everywhere. No loose 
skin. No fat. No sag. Warm, smooth, hard. 

Sexy. Very very sexy. 

Pamela's cognitive abilities were starting to return to her. The one thing 
that she noticed about John was that he was strong and muscular. No loose 
skin. No fat. No sag. All bulges-in his pecs and his arms and his legs. 

Sexy. Very very sexy. 

She didn't know why she did it, but she scooted forward on his lap so that 
his penis slipped underneath her pubis. When it stuck out from between her 
thighs, she trapped it with her legs. She giggled and said, "There's a nice 
little fellow. Hi little fellow. How are you doing?" She reached down with 
her right hand and stroked it. 

Kimberly was sitting across from them and asked, "Hey mom! Whose do you 
think is bigger, his or dad's?" 

"Well ... I'd say that his is actually larger. Yes. I think it's much 
larger." 

Actually they were about the same size, but because John didn't have a beer 
gut the size of Panama hanging around his waist, his dick seemed bigger. It 
didn't have to stick out from beneath a large rounded overhanging belly to 
be found. 

"Does it feel differently?" Kimberly asked. 

"That's hard to tell." She squeezed it. "Yes, I think that it does." She 
squeezed it several more times. "Yes. It's more muscular." She began to 
stroke it as well as squeeze it. "It has a lot more veins sticking out on 
it." 

"That's probably because it gets more exercise. Does it, John?" Kimberly 
asked with a wink. 

He laughed. "Well, I don't know about that. If I had this little lady 
around, I wouldn't let her get much sleep. I'd be poking her every night." 

Again, Pamela felt a soft spot for her brother-in-law. But this time the 
soft spot wasn't in her heart, but rather between her thighs. To show that 
she had heard the comment, she gently stroked his penis, giving it a long 
and loving squeeze. She then began moving her hand up and down with a 
masturbatory rhythm. 

Kimberly could see her mother's pussy start to moisten. Little beads of 
perspiration were starting to appear on the inner lips, along the length of 
the slit. "Go ahead and put it in a little way, mom. I've always wanted to 
see how this is done." 

"Sex education, firsthand is that what you want?" asked Pamela with a 
drunken giggle. 

"Sure. Mr. Eldridge says that it's healthy for children to watch their 
parents make love. It teaches them about reality, not about fantasy." 

Again John listened with rapt attention. He knew that some time during the 
night he had stepped into the sexual version of the twilight zone. He was 
beyond caring. Now his dick was in complete control. 

Pamela smiled and said, "Well, if Doctor Eldridge says that it's okay to 
have sex in front of kids, then I guess that it's okay." 

She spread her legs very wide, grabbed the tip of the cock, and placed it at 
the very center of her cunt. Without hesitation, she began to rock her hips 
gently back and forth, welcoming the head of her in-law's cock into the very 
center of her body. 

"Is that how it's done?" asked Kimberly. "Wow! It looks so gentle and 
loving." 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" moaned Pamela as the head of the penis slipped into her and 
she rotated her ass in a counterclockwise motion several times. "Mmmm! 
Mmmm!" 

"Does it feel good, mom? Is that why you're moaning?" 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" 

John had been holding her around the hips, but reached up and now held her 
about the waist. It was almost like he was fitting himself into a goddess. 
She was so beautiful. Even her back muscles were splendid as they worked the 
entire torso sensually, so that they could accept his cock into her lovely 
core. 

He couldn't help himself. He started thrusting his hips up and down 
slightly. 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" 

"Would you like some help, mom? Would you like me to hold Uncle John's penis 
while you slide on to it?" 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" 

Kimberly took that as an affirmative response. She stepped forward and 
reached down with her hand to grab the thick shaft which was presently 
buried several inches deep in her mother's moist nest. This was the closest 
she had ever been to a man's sexual organ. And yet, she felt as familiar 
with it as an old friend. She had spent so much time reading about penises 
that she knew nearly everything about them. It was simply the particulars 
that she was unsure of. 

She touched John's and gently stroked the warm spongy flesh. She liked it. 
She liked it a lot. 

John felt the hand grab his cock. At first he thought it was Pamela's hand, 
but noticed that hers were at her side. Suddenly he knew whose hand that 
was. Suddenly he had worries about spending time in the penitentiary. Surely 
there was some law on the books which said that a person wasn't allowed to 
do this sort of thing! Surely some lawyer specialized in perverted in-law 
cases. 

But hell! he thought. Why worry about such silly matters? They were all in 
this together-literally. 

Pamela reached down and placed her hands on John's knees, and lifted her 
feet to place them on the edge of the sofa. She was now in a squatting 
position, moving up and down on his rock-hard shaft, slowly and sensually. 

Kimberly watched in hypnotic fascination as her mother's cunt welled wide 
open and accepted the width and the girth of the shaft with ease. She could 
see that he was now about six inches into her, and only a couple of inches 
remained before her mother had the whole thing wedged in her honeypot. 

Kimberly noticed that things were beginning to smell a bit musky. The scents 
and aromas of sex were starting to waft through the air. She found the smell 
fragrant. She sniffed several times and licked her lips, getting used to it. 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" moaned her mother. 

"Ungh! Ungh!" grunted Uncle John as he began to thrust earnestly. 

Kimberly smiled. Her mother was spread as wide as she had ever seen her. The 
tendons in her legs stood out prominently. Her pussy was completely swollen 
with passion and wrapped around the dick as it rode up and down in her 
fuckpit. 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" 

"Ungh! Ungh!" 

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" 

"Ungh! Ungh!" 

Kimberly was also fascinated by the dimensions of the penis. She had seen 
Mr. Eldridge's and her father's, but John's seemed bigger, fatter, more 
brutal-more menacing, more powerful, more virile. It didn't seem like a 
penis-it seemed like a cock! A genuine Harlem fucking machine. 

It was warm to the touch-hot as a matter of fact-and it was throbbing in her 
hands. Her little fingers couldn't reach around it because it was so big. 

She looked down at the heavy balls which were dangling below the massive 
penis. She was surprised at how big they were. She had always been under the 
impression that a man's testes were about the size of pecans. But Uncle John 
had massive suckers. They were the size of fully grown English walnuts, 
tennis balls, oranges, or small grapefruit. They were bull size. 

She reached down with her right hand and touched them. 

"Ahhh!" moaned John as he felt the sensation of her soft fingertips touching 
his wrinkled scrotum. 

Kimberly gave a little squeeze. 

"Oh god!" said John, thrusting his pelvis that much harder into Pamela, 
forcing her bodily off his lap and into the air. 

The youngster gave another tender squeeze. 

"Oh sweet merciful Jesus," he said at the top of his lungs, again driving 
his pelvis upward with the intensity of a linebacker. 

Kimberly gave another squeeze, followed by a tug and a pull. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! That feels great! That feels wonderful." 

Pamela wondered what was going on. She looked down between her widespread 
thighs and saw her teenage daughter fondling John's nuts. She couldn't 
believe it! Her very own fifteen-year-old daughter was tickling a man's 
balls. Oh well! Maybe it was natural. Maybe it was supposed to be this way. 
Maybe it was genetic. Like mother-like daughter. But then again, maybe this 
was the sort of thing they were teaching in public schools these days. She 
hoped so. Knowledge about sex would come in handier than those other 
bullshit subjects. 

Pamela didn't have time to worry about her daughter. She had to concentrate 
on her approaching orgasm. She could feel it building in her lower 
torso-sensations of delight were travelling throughout the root of her womb. 
Her entire pussy was on fire like a red hot coal. Her vagina felt like the 
engine of a Saturn V rocket. 

That thought caused her to giggle. She realized that a rocket was currently 
being thrust back and forth in her vagina. She had never handled such a big 
dick before. Oh! It felt great! It felt wonderful! It felt marvelous! 

"Oh fuck!" she moaned. "Oh fuck!" 

Kimberly looked up at her mother. "That's it Uncle John. That's it. Fuck her 
good! Fuck her good! Give her an orgasm that she's never going to forget." 

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" moaned Pamela, nearing a high point of hysteria. A thin film 
of perspiration was covering her entire body, from the hairline on her 
forehead all the way to the tips of her toes. Her beautiful body was 
starting to spasm with little shivers of delight, which in turn were causing 
her flesh to quiver that much more. 

She knew that she was about ready to go over the edge. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she 
chanted in perfect tempo with each inward thrust of cock. 

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" mouthed John in equally perfect tempo as he thrust 
inward. 

Kimberly was really getting into the spirit of things. "Come on, mom! Fuck 
him! Fuck him! Fuck him!" The young girl was behaving as if she were a 
pom-pom girl at a pep rally for the high school football team. 

John began to feel the sperm swirl and churn in his mighty sac. It was 
starting to pool at the base of his testicles. It felt like mercury rushing 
around down there. He could sense that it was starting to move upward 
through the lengthy tubes. Upward into the shaft. Upward into the crown. 

"Ooooh!" grunted Pamela as she felt his penis noticeably expand lengthwise 
and girth-wise. 

"Go for it, mom! Go for it!" Kimberly could feel the penis swell to its 
greatest circumference-like a water balloon ready to burst. She couldn't 
figure out how the cockskin managed to be so elastic. It was almost magic. A 
penis truly was a marvelous creation of nature. 

Suddenly with a mighty blast born of four million years of human evolution, 
John gave the final thrust and spurted his vigorous sperm into the beautiful 
waiting womb of his lovely sister-in-law. 

"Mmm!" Pamela swirled her body around his shaft and felt the semen spurting 
into her. She loved the feeling of spermy syrup splashing against her 
ovaries, soaking them. Mmm! She wished that men had gallons of the liquid 
refreshment contained in their nuts. If they did, she knew it would feel 
like a firehose. 

"That was really great, mom," Kimberly exclaimed with a broad smile. "Thank 
goodness you showed me just how it's done." 

Pamela blinked several times. She sighed and replied, "Well, that's not 
really how it's done, baby. At least, not in the real world." She was still 
hued with passion as she kept rotating her lower torso in little concentric 
circles. "I think that it's best if you keep this little incident quiet." 

"What do you mean?" Kimberly asked, feigning ignorance. 

"You shouldn't discuss this at school for show-and-tell." 

"But mom! Mr. Eldridge will want to know. He says that teenagers shouldn't 
keep sexual secrets. It might give us a psychological complex later in 
life." 

The last thing that Pamela wanted was to cause mental problems for her 
child. "Well, you do whatever you think is best, honey." 

"Thanks," the youngster replied. "I will." 

The mother became worried about some of the legal ramifications if word got 
out to anyone in authority. She could probably wind up in a mental hospital 
herself. Just as quickly as that bleak thought had entered her mind, she 
dismissed it. The cock which was still buried in her tight cunt meant more 
to her than any trepidations she might have about Dr. Eldridge, or the 
school board. 

Kimberly watched in fascination as John's cock slowly deflated and began to 
glide out of Pamela's throbbing nest. One inch! Two inches! Three inches! 
Inch by inch the slithery snake slipped out, until the head of the cock 
itself popped out. It was covered with viscous syrupy secretions of both 
seminal and vaginal origin. 

Kimberly smiled and said, "You know, what you just did can be thought of in 
terms of a mathematical problem." 

"How's that?" asked John, somewhat curious about the licentious statement. 

"Think of it like this: If your dick is eight inches long and travels up and 
down six inches per second, that equals twelve inches of cock every two 
seconds-or, 360 inches of cock per minute. And since you fucked for about 
twenty minutes, that means that you fucked for a distant equal to nearly 
7200 inches-or nearly 600 cock feet. That in turn is equal to about 
one-tenth of a mile." 

"Er ... what's 'cock feet'?" asked John. 

"Out West they measure timber in terms of 'board feet'. They say that a good 
Douglas Fir will yield several thousand board feet of lumber. Mr. Eldridge 
says that sex researchers measure fucking in terms of 'cock feet'. He says 
that a good fuck should yield several hundred cock feet." 

For some reason the idea of thinking in terms of cock feet caused Pamela to 
laugh. She realized that her daughter was turning into a female Kinsey. 

""Let's go upstairs, mom," said the young girl. "It's my turn now." 

Now John was really worried. Fucking his beautiful and willing sister-in-law 
had been one thing. Everybody was doing that these days. But he wasn't about 
ready to fuck his niece. No way. No how. 

He gently pushed Pamela aside and said, "Could you excuse us for a moment?" 

"Mmmm!" she replied, sinking back into a deep feeling of sexual bliss which 
she always got following a royal fuck. Of course, she was still inebriated, 
so that helped her relax. 

John got up from the couch, turned to Kimberly, and said, "Follow me." 

They stepped into the den and he quickly closed the door, locking it. "Can I 
ask you what your trip is? First you get me to fuck your mother in front of 
you, and now you want me to fuck you. You may know a lot about sex, young 
lady, but you don't know shit about the law. I could go to jail for this." 

Kimberly had expected this speech. She was surprised that it had taken so 
long for it to come up. "Listen, it's a dog-eat-dog world out there for men, 
isn't it?" 

"Yea. So what? That doesn't explain this nonsense." 

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, it's a cunt-eat-cunt world out there for 
women." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"In the same way that American men have to learn how to stab their fellow 
men in the back-as well as how to learn how to handle being stabbed-American 
women must do the same with their greatest commodity: sex." 

"That's ridiculous." 

"No it isn't. In the 1950's only a handful of women were sexually 
promiscuous, yet they wound up getting the best guys. Marilyn Monroe was 
doing what every other woman could do, and yet she seemed to be alone. They 
called her a 'sex bomb', yet all she did was put-out and flaunt her assets. 
And guess what-she wound up with the best men in America: Joe DiMaggio, 
Henry Miller, and even the president of the United States-John Kennedy." 

John was listening with considerable interest. His niece sounded as if she 
really knew her stuff. 

She continued, "In the 1960's the competition got pretty fierce when 
approximately half the women began putting-out, and nearly all of them began 
having pre-marital sex. By the 1970's every broad was going at it, whether 
they were married or not. And in the 1980's, it only got worse-everyone and 
their mother. Now in the 1990's females all the way down to the junior high 
school level have to know how to put-out. They have to know techniques that 
would have been unpublishable in the 1950's. To put it simply Uncle John, if 
I don't learn everything that there is to learn about sex, I'm going to be 
left out in the Puritanical wasteland. That's Dullsville. That's 
Neanderthalland. That's Nerd City. And you know what that means." 

He shook his head. 

"It means that I could wind up at the bottom of the barrel-like working at a 
video store for the minimum wage. Or flipping hamburgers for the minimum 
wage. Or working at a retail establishment for the minimum wage." 

"But nearly everyone is working for the minimum wage," he replied. 

"They don't have to if they put-out to the right people. Sexual connections 
at the pelvis, leads to career connections in the job market." 

He thought about what she had said for a few seconds. She was right. If a 
person was going to make it in modern-day America, he or she had to use 
every trick in the book to land high-paying cushy jobs. The real jobs with 
the real salaries. The kind where one could actually afford a house, a car, 
and a vacation every now and then. 

He turned back to her and replied, "I'm sorry honey. I forgot how tough it 
is for youngsters these days. I suppose the best thing to do is to learn how 
to use sex. Sure. Your mother and I will show you how it's done." 

"Oh thank you, Uncle John! I knew that I could count on you." She leaned 
forward and hugged him. "I guess you see why I couldn't ask daddy." 

"Sure," he replied, rubbing his body next to hers intimately, wondering what 
it would be like to slip his cock into her little cunt. 

 CHAPTER 5 

Pamela was still feeling a bit tipsy from the alcohol and didn't quite like 
the idea of retiring upstairs for the purpose of personally demonstrating 
how sex was performed to her daughter. With her mental faculties slowly 
returning, she reasoned that she could put a stop to the proceedings if she 
wanted to. But oddly enough, she didn't. She was beyond the point of caring. 
After all, they had already sunk to the depths of depravity. Why not a 
little bit deeper? Who would know? Who would care? In this age of depravity, 
why not celebrate with one more depraved act. 

She watched as John and Kimberly returned from the den. They were smiling. 
They were happy. 

"Come on, mom," said Kimberly. "Let's go upstairs." 

Pamela looked for some kind of response from John, but he seemed to be 
willing to go along with the act. She took a deep breath and got up from the 
couch. 

Kimberly walked immediately behind her mother and watched the lovely 
pear-shaped ass wiggle back and forth. So magnificent. So savory to behold. 

The youngster looked beneath the ass itself to the pussy and saw a trail of 
sperm trickling out of the slit. There was so much of it that the entire 
inner thigh was covered, all the way from the hairs of the pussy to the 
backs of the knees. It was dribbling further downward, like melted ice cream 
down the side of a cone on a hot summer afternoon. 

Kimberly had a momentary thought of leaning forward and licking her mother 
clean as she had seen kittens do. She giggled. Maybe it was the word, 
"pussy" which caused that wicked thought to pop into her mind. 

Meanwhile, John walked behind Kimberly, savoring the sight of the young 
girl's magnificent ass, in the same manner that the youngster was savoring 
the sight of her mother's. 

He came to the conclusion that the daughter was just as good-looking as the 
mother, except that her skin was a little tighter and had more of a healthy 
glow. If she were only a bit more mature, she would be perfect for fucking. 
Prime Beef. Top Sirloin. Grade A USDA Choice. In another year, her already 
full tits would fill-out completely and the her hips would widen a little. 
Then, she'd be a top-notch fucking machine in her own right-ideal for 
afternoon pokes. 

The trio walked into the bedroom, closed the door, and stood looking at each 
other. There was a awkward moment of silence while each looked at the other. 

Pamela was attracted to the sight of John who was standing immediately 
before her and wearing nothing other than his birthday suit. Her pussy 
twitched excitedly at the thought of being serviced again. 

Meanwhile, John was attracted to both the mother's and the daughter's 
sensual charms. Each stood about the same height, possessing equally 
wonderful curves and angles. He wished that he could talk them into posing 
for a photographic layout. He knew that he could sell it to a top-notch 
porno magazine. They could all pocket a tidy profit. Unfortunately, Kimberly 
was only fifteen and there wasn't a reputable magazine anywhere which would 
publish nude photos of a woman under eighteen. Too bad. He could have used 
the extra cash. 

For her part, Kimberly spent her time looking at her sexy blonde mother. She 
thought it odd that she was about to finally get fucked, yet was more 
interested in looking at her mom's large breasts and sensually swelling 
hips. The youngster couldn't understand why she was so turned-on by the 
sight of a nude female. After all, she had seen her mother nude hundreds of 
times, and many times engaged in vigorous healthy sexual activity. 

John looked from one female to the other, unable to decide which turned him 
on more. When two women were equally gorgeous, he always chose the one with 
the better pair of legs. But both Kimberly and Pamela had perfect ones. 

Over the years he had come to the conclusion that women who were endowed 
with great-looking legs were blessed. No other feature of the female anatomy 
added so much to her overall physical appearance. She might have saggy tits, 
but if her legs were still in shape, and if she still knew how to wrap them 
around a man, she would keep him. 

Even a woman who put on a little weight around the mid-riff could compensate 
by maintaining a great pair of legs. But if the legs went, a woman had a 
serious problem. The tits might be firm, the ass might be shapely, the face 
might be attractive, but when she took off her clothes and a man saw a pair 
of bad legs, it was always a disappointment. His libido would drop like the 
barometric pressure before a cold front. If his dick was hard before she 
began to remove her garments, it was usually as soft as the proverbial wet 
noodle by the time the last article of clothing hit the floor. 

If the woman was a real chunkier, the man might get nauseous. It wasn't 
uncommon for a fellow to flee from a room if he saw copious gobs of 
cellulite on a woman's thighs. In fact, there was the famous story of the 
Philadelphia burlesque house which had 150 men run out into the street and 
spontaneously throw up. Apparently a woman resembling Roseanne Barr came 
into the establishment, got drunk, and decided that it would be a neat idea 
to disrobe on stage. At first the manager thought it might be amusing for a 
fat broad to be naked, so he let her proceed. But when her clothes started 
to fall and the pockmarked ugly cellulite began to appear, he knew that he 
had made a terrible mistake. The men began their stampede for a mass puke in 
the street. It took the manager years to reestablish his business. 

No wonder cellulite removal had become a multi-million dollar business. 

But John didn't have to worry about throwing up from the sight of these 
women. At that moment he was confronted with two pairs of gorgeous legs. And 
these weren't merely average. Hardly. They were the top of the line. They 
could have belonged to the top dancers on a chorus line. They could have 
belonged to Rachel Welch or Cheryl Tiegs or Jamie Lee Curtis. They were that 
great. Simply great. 

Meanwhile, Kimberly felt her nipples stiffen and turn to hard little 
pinpoints. She felt her belly flutter a couple of times. She felt a droplet 
of moisture slip down her vaginal well and lubricate her love channel. 

At the same time, Pamela turned and headed for the bed. She got in the 
middle of it. "Ahhh!" she moaned blissfully, reclining back on the sheets. 
"I tell you, I'm feeling kinda fucked out." 

Kimberly stepped around to the other side of the bed, looked down at her 
mother and said, "That's all right, mom. You don't have to worry about a 
thing. I'll take care of Uncle John this time, okay?" 

Pamela looked up at her lovely daughter. She wore an expression which 
bespoke of a deep sense of understanding that comes from sharing intimate 
carnal knowledge. Now she knew how the Roman emperor Caligula felt after 
screwing his sister, Drusilla. "Thanks kid," she said softly. "I'd 
appreciate that." 

"However, I might need a few pointers, mom. I've never done this before." 

Kimberly didn't really need any advice. After all, she knew more about sex 
than anyone in her high school. She just thought that it might be nice to 
include her mother. She figured that it never hurt to feed an ego. 

"Oh baby!" said Pamela. "Don't worry. I'll assist you along the way." 

The ribald conversation was having a noticeable effect upon John. His dick 
began to rise again, throb again, and pulse again. 

His balls were hurriedly rushing to manufacture more sperm. He would need 
it, because he wanted to give this young filly a proper and thorough 
introduction to the sport of fucking and the art of screwing. 

And there was a difference! Fucking was the technique of plunging a penis 
inward and outward, and screwing was the technique of a woman rotating her 
ass while being fucked. 

The youngster got into the middle of the bed and spread out right beside her 
mother. 

Jim looked down at the mother/daughter team, lying side-by-side, 
shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip. He couldn't get over it. Four perfectly 
firm tits were all in a line. Four erect nipples were all standing up, 
yearning to be sucked. Two incurving tummies, without more than an ounce of 
fat between either of them, were moving up and down slightly. Four long and 
beautifully sensual legs, were outstretched. Two magnificent pussies were 
staring him right in the eyes-the mother's a little hairier than the 
daughter's. One had sperm trickling out of it, the other was just starting 
to ooze a tiny amount of vaginal secretion. 

Yes, John had definitely died and was now residing in Pussy Heaven. No doubt 
about it. As a young man he used to dream of Pussy Heaven. He imagined it as 
a fanciful place like Shangri-La where all the women were blonde, blue-eyed, 
and beautiful, and all were between the ages of fifteen and thirty-five. 

He smiled. Yes, he had definitely arrived at the virile man's version of the 
Hereafter, where tits and ass and cunt just lay around in the nude, begging 
to be serviced with his rod, his testes, and his joy juice. 

If ministers and priests could only convey their religious services like 
that, American men would break down the doors of every church in every small 
town and large city in the country. They wouldn't miss a Sunday. 

He looked again at Kimberly and Pamela. Mmm! What a pair! What a pair! They 
were the epitome of feminine perfection. Not a blemish nor a birthmark 
marred their flawless complexion. Even in repose they looked as good as when 
they stood. Better even-because they were ready to be fucked. 

His eyes travelled back and forth from the mother's pubis to that of the 
daughter, and back again. He was comparing tits, nipples, belly buttons, 
crotches, slits, and just about everything that a modern-day, properly-bred, 
American male wasn't supposed to notice about the opposite sex. The 
feminists had tried to brainwash men that they shouldn't think of women as 
sexual objects. Well fuck the feminists! They had never taken male hormones 
into account. 

"What's the first thing I do, mom?" Kimberly asked with a wry smile on her 
sensual lips. 

"First, pull your legs up to your waist." 

"Like this?" 

"Yes. Now bend your knees." 

"Like this?" 

"Yes. Now spread your thighs wide." 

"Like this?" 

"Yes. Now when you feel the cool air of the room rush against the exposed 
flesh of your cunt, look at the man and smile." 

"Like this?" 

"Yes. That indicates to him that you really and truly want to be fucked." 

"Oh! I see!" said the youngster as if she were in a classroom at school and 
they were discussing the Pythagorean theorem. "The smile is necessary to 
show the man that you want the fuck to commence." 

"Yes," Pamela replied with her legs spread as wide as a Thanksgiving Day 
turkey. "Men are turned on more by a beautiful woman wearing a pretty smile, 
than they are by just a beautiful woman." 

John looked over and saw Kimberly's widespread thighs. He stared down at her 
lovely teenage gash. In many ways it resembled that her mother's, except 
that it appeared to be pinker, tighter, and less hairy. He guessed that the 
lighter color could be expected because she was a virgin. A woman's snatch 
tended to become a shade darker as she got older and had more penises shoved 
into her more frequently. 

"Is there something extra that I should do?" asked Kimberly, still wearing a 
wry smile. 

"What do you mean?" said Pamela. 

"Should I reach down between my legs and spread my pussy lips like this?" 

John watched in utter amazement as the teenager's fingers spread the outer 
labia so that he gazed right into her precious, luscious virginal hole. 

Wow! She was magnificent looking! He had to remember that this girl had 
never fucked before, and yet she seemed to know more about sex than Dr. 
Ruth. 

Pamela looked over at her daughter and had to admit that the youngster 
presented quite a sensual sight. She had never before realized how comely 
and attractive Kimberly had become in the past few years. The body resembled 
that of a centerfold in a high class, costly European porno magazine. There 
would be a lot of boys would like to sow their wild oats in that body. No 
doubt that in the next few years many a boy would get the chance. 

Pamela looked at John and noticed that his penis had again popped to full 
attention and was again twitching with intensity. The spunk covering it from 
its last round of sex hadn't even had a chance to dry. 

She smiled and said, "Men are truly amazing. They're always ready for sex. 
Always! All a woman has to do is take off her clothes and he's ready to go." 

John replied, "For your information it helps if the woman is beautiful, 
wears a smile, and has her legs spread apart at a 150 degree angle." 

"See, honey," said Pamela, turning to her daughter. "It pays to smile." 

The words from her mother weren't registering in Kimberly's brain. The 
teenager wanted cock, not lessons on social manners. She seductively 
whispered, "I'm ready for sex. Come on over here Uncle John, and show me 
what it's all about." 

As if he were in a hypnotic trance, he did as she requested, as if he were a 
member of the Prussian Army following orders. He stepped forward in measured 
strides, not certain whether he were still part of reality. His eyes locked 
on the sight of the young girl's pink, ripe cunt, spread before him like a 
split peach. 

Air raid sirens could have gone off and he wouldn't have removed his gaze 
from that beautiful visage. A nuclear war could have been declared- the 
missiles on their way-and he wouldn't have given a shit. The chance to fuck 
a young cherry cunt was worth more than saving one's ass in a nuclear 
holocaust. 

Pamela felt jealous as she watched John lay down on the bed and position 
himself between Kimberly's widespread thighs. She turned to her daughter and 
said, "Now, you've got to hoist your pubis a little so that the aim is 
correct." 

"Like this, mom?" said Kimberly as she lifted her choice ass and angled it 
towards the head of the cock. 

"Yes, darling. That's the way. You seem like an expert." 

"Thanks. Mr. Eldridge gives us sexual geometry lessons like this." 

"My goodness!" said Pamela. "Education has certainly changed a lot since I 
attended school." 

"It's basically the result of the Aids scare, mother. Teachers realize that 
they must be factual about sex. No more beating around the bush-pardon the 
pun." 

There was no need to ask for the pun to be pardoned. Her mother didn't get 
the gist of the humor. 

"Anyway, let him get into position," Pamela explained like a ground 
controller instructing a novice pilot on how to taxi a plane. When she saw 
that the sexual organs were in line she exclaimed, "That's it! That's it! 
Now, the fucking can begin in earnest." 

John had difficulty believing his ears. He had suspected that Kimberly had 
purposely gotten him drunk, now he guessed that she had spiked the drinks as 
well. People just didn't converse like this in real life-especially 
families! And yet, he realized that this was no time for armchair 
moralizing. Leave that to the hypocritical preachers on their soapboxes who 
always advocated puritanical sexual behavior, and yet went out and found 
bow-legged acrobatic prostitutes to pass the time. No, this was the time to 
fuck young things. And Hallelujah! Kimberly's time had come! 

In the meantime, the shapely teenager reached up with her dainty hand and 
placed it on the midsection of his fat cock. She pointed the fleshy object 
of lust at the very core of her cunt. When she was certain that she had 
fitted it snugly in the warm folds of her nest she asked, "Like this, mom?" 

Pamela leaned over, investigated the trajectory, and exclaimed, "You've got 
it! That's the spot! Now, the rest is easy. All you have to do is lie back 
and enjoy the event." 

"Just like Mardi Gras, eh?" 

"That's right," Pamela said before turning to John and asking, "Are you 
ready?" 

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" he replied. 

Pamela smiled. She liked shit jokes. That was her kind of humor. Not stupid 
puns. She looked back at Kimberly and asked, "Are you ready?" 

"Oh yes! Yes! Just get on with it!" the teenager exclaimed excitedly. 

"All right," said her mother. "But first let me say one thing to Uncle 
John." 

She looked at him and said, "I'm giving you my daughter to fuck-not so much 
because I think that it's a good idea, but rather because Dr. Eldridge of 
the high school thinks that it's a good idea. Isn't that right, Kimberly?" 

Her daughter wasn't about ready to start an argument. "That's right, mom. 
That's right. He shows films about this all the time. He says that it forms 
a bond between mothers and daughters. Sort of primal in nature." 

John's balls were about ready to burst. Pamela sounded like a preacher 
presenting a bride for marriage. Hell! He wasn't going to take her 
daughter's hand in holy matrimony, he was merely going to fuck the living 
daylights out of her. "Can I proceed?" he asked desperately. 

"Not before you promise one more thing." 

"What is it? Tell me. I'll promise." 

"If you harm this beautiful child of mine in any way, I'll smash your nuts 
in a vise and leave you screaming from the rafters. Is that understood?" 

He had a feeling that she was totally serious. Naturally he agreed. 

"Good," she replied. "I just wanted to make sure that you understood the 
ground rules. Too many men think that women enjoy pain. That's utter 
bullshit. Women, like men, enjoy pleasure, and all sexual intercourse should 
be pleasurable." 

Kimberly listened to her mother. She remembered that during all her years of 
watching her parents make love, she had never once seen them harm each 
other. Sure, they did some kinky stuff, like pretending to be animals, or 
playing Master and Servant, but they never physically hurt each other. No 
lashes, whips, or bondage. No screams or torture. 

The teenager suddenly had a great deal of respect for her mother. The 
beautiful older woman was more intelligent than she had given her credit 
for. But then, most teenagers learned that sooner or later. 

Nevertheless, Kimberly hadn't forgotten the real reason why she was spread 
out in the middle of the bed with a penis wedged in her slit. "Can we get on 
with this?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Of course, baby," replied the beautiful mother. "I just wanted to make sure 
that Uncle John understood my position." 

Once John had been given tacit approval to proceed, he started to lower 
himself into the widespread young gash. Even though Kimberly was cherry, he 
didn't feel the kind of physical resistance which he had expected. He 
thought that his entry would be blocked by her hymen, but he was surprised 
to find that no obstruction impeded his forward progress. 

"Ahhh! You're tight," he said with his eyes closed, wiggling his pelvis back 
and forth so that he could wedge his meaty sword into her liquid sheath a 
fraction of an inch at a time, instead of all at once as he had originally 
planned. But then, those plans had been scrubbed. Now he didn't want to hear 
her scream. After all, now he had his nuts, a vise, and some rafters to 
worry about. 

When he was halfway into her vaginal paradise he again commented, "You're so 
tight. So deliciously tight." 

"Tighter than mom?" asked Kimberly as if she were asking a question in 
American History class. 

"Oh yea! You're a lot tighter than your mother-a whole lot tighter. But 
that's because you're cherry, honey. You'll loosen up a bit when you get 
more experience." He shoved a couple of inches into her in one quick deft 
thrust. 

"Mmph!" she moaned. "Ow! It sort of hurts." 

He paused his forward assault, opened his eyes, and quickly looked at 
Pamela. He worried about his nuts being flattened to the width of a Lincoln 
penny. Immediately he returned his attention to the daughter and said, 
"Don't worry. Don't worry. It'll be all right. After a short while you'll 
start to enjoy it." 

Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead and his nuts began to 
twitch-almost as if they sensed that they were about to guillotined and fed 
to the hogs. Incredibly, he could sense his testes start to pull themselves 
upward into his body, seeking refuge from any approaching scissors, or 
knife. - 

But no implement of testicle destruction was on its way to sever his 
precious family jewels. At least, not yet. 

He looked back into the eyes of the incredibly beautiful teenager and said, 
"A little bit of pain is quite natural the first time. But, believe me, in 
the not too distant future you'll be hungry for cock every night. You'll 
see. Taking a penis into your vagina will become second nature. It'll be as 
easy as turning on a spigot of water for the bath." 

She could tell that Uncle John had become as nervous as a rabbit locked in a 
cage full of foxes. Ever since her mother had warned him about losing his 
nuts he had been extremely cautious. The youngster thought about screaming 
at the top of her lungs to see what kind of incident might transpire. She 
doubted if her mother had the fortitude to actually whack off his balls, but 
it would be interesting to find out nevertheless. 

John was somewhat curious about her vagina as he pushed into her. "I can't 
seem to feel your hymen, honey." 

"Oh!" she gasped. "I might have lost it when I took those horseback riding 
lessons several years ago. Mr. Eldridge says that it's quite common nowadays 
for a young girl to be hymenless." 

She wasn't about to tell him that she had lost her hymen years ago atop the 
toy box while watching her mother and father ball each other. Nor was she 
about to explain that she had finger-fucked herself thousands of times 
during the past eight years. Nor was she about to express her belief that 
the absence of a hymen was the greatest breakthrough since sliced bread. 

Meanwhile, Pamela was again feeling jealous. Her daughter was getting dick 
and not her. Oh well, she decided that she would insist on being serviced 
next. But getting dick wasn't the only thing which was bothering her. She 
was also miffed about being told that she had a loose cunt. 

To see if the statement were true, she reached down between her widespread 
thighs and stuck a finger into her vagina. She wiggled her digit back and 
forth several times, circulating it around and feeling the diameter of the 
orifice. After a while she came to the conclusion that she wasn't that loose 
down there. Not at all. Many women in their mid-thirties were much looser. 
What did Uncle John expect from a woman who had been married for fifteen 
years and given birth! A rabbit hole! Naturally she wouldn't be as snug as 
her cherry teenage daughter. Besides, if her vagina was a little wider than 
normal it was because that Dr. Eldridge fellow had stretched her a bit after 
his therapy. 

She kept her finger buried in her nether orifice as she returned her 
attention to watching the carnal scene taking place beside her. She saw that 
John had at last relaxed. Apparently she had earlier scared the shit out of 
him about his losing his testicles. 

She watched as he started moving his penis slowly into the hungry pussy. 
Five inches were now buried in the young tight fleshy hole. 

"Ungh!" Kimberly groaned as she threw her head back so that the tendons in 
her neck were displayed. She was no longer in the mood to fake pain. She was 
actually hurting from his entry. Her finger-fucking hadn't prepared her for 
anything like this. 

Perspiration again started to appear on John's furrowed brow. His nuts again 
withdrew upward into the protection of his body. "Easy baby. Easy. Just 
spread your lovely thighs a little wider, breathe deeply, and relax." 

He kept looking out of the corner of his eyes at Pamela, making sure that 
she wasn't reaching for a hidden weapon which she might have kept under the 
bed. "Easy. Everything's going to be okay. There's no need to worry about 
anything." 

Kimberly was surprised to learn that even virile-looking men like John 
became simpering wimps when their nuts were on the line. Ha! So much for the 
myth of macho! 

As another inch slipped into her vagina she began to feel the pain subside. 
And it was replaced with a wonderful sensation which she had never felt 
before. A deep penetrating feeling of unbelievably intense pleasure. "Oh! 
Uncle John!" she moaned with loving ardor. "It feels great-really great!" 

"See. I told you." 

Indeed it did feel terrific. And how! It certainly beat the shit out of 
finger-fucking. And it was a hell of a lot more practical than using the old 
Coke bottle. And dildos and vibrators never felt so warm nor pliable. No 
matter how advanced the technology, or special the product, there simply was 
no substitute for good old American cock. 

John's eyes rolled back in his head. He was in heaven, he knew it. Kimberly 
had a cunt which was unsurpassed in quality. It was that one in a million. 
Tight, snug, and deep. He had no doubt that he would eventually manage to 
put all eight inches into her. "Ahhh!" he sighed as he sank onward and 
inward. "Ahhh! What a great vagina!" 

Pamela looked over and watched another couple of inches of hard ripe cock 
slide into her beautiful daughter's warm moist womb. The older woman had to 
admit that she was getting turned-on by simply watching. She reached down 
between her thighs with her hand and began stroking her clitoris, while at 
the same time continuing to dabble in the vagina. 

John shoved the last couple of inches of his dick into the teenager's cunt. 
He wiggled his pelvis against hers so that even the root of his shaft was 
buried. He wormed his pole around a little, meshing his pubic hair with 
hers. 

When the tip of his cock touched her cervix, he lowered his head and began 
kissing the tops of her ripe teenage breasts. He moved his tongue around one 
magnificent and delicious orb, before trailing his lingual digit to the 
other. He lingered on the left breast for a considerable period of time, 
before beginning to concentrate his attention on the nipple. He captured the 
hard little nubbin between his lips and began to suck. 

At that moment he felt her spread her thighs a little wider and wrap her 
legs around his lower torso. 

Ah! He knew that he had triumphed. Once he felt her ankles resting on his 
hard buttocks, he realized that he had converted another young woman to the 
worldwide religion of fucking. Without a doubt, the best faith around. 

The locked ankles behind the ass was the secret signal which females the 
world-over sent to their lovers when they were ready to be fucked. 
Anthropologists had long recognized this primal trait. Maybe sex researchers 
had noticed it too. He would have to ask Dr. Eldridge. 

He immediately began moving his big fat dick in and out of her with real 
determination. He now knew that she was lubricated all the way down the 
length of her channel. He could feel the secretions bathing his member. She 
was greased like the inside of a piston. He knew that she would be faking if 
she screamed that he was hurting her now. 

He lifted his hips, withdrawing himself nearly to the crown of his penis, 
and then pushed his rod back into her cylinder. 

"Mmm!" moaned Kimberly, lifting her ass to welcome him home again. "Oooh! I 
know what you were talking about now, mom." 

Pamela had been busy masturbating and hadn't paid too much attention to the 
proceedings for the past few minutes. She looked over at her daughter and 
smiled, "Now you see for yourself that sex is great." 

"Ohhh! It's wonderful!" 

John didn't care what the women were conversing about. After all, he had a 
mission to perform. He had to get his rocks off. It was his job to fuck a 
young beauty. 

Charge! 

Pamela had never participated in a group scene before. In fact, she was a 
novice to open sexuality. But she had to admit that as she watched John move 
his long shaft in and out of her daughter's small vaginal opening that the 
sight was extremely erotic. Suddenly it dawned on her that this group stuff 
was a lot of fun. She wondered if she could talk her hubby into joining them 
later when he came home from work. 

No way, she thought, reconsidering that idea. He's too fucking fat for 
fucking. 

"Mmmm!" moaned Kimberly. "This is great. This is so fucking great!" 

In and out, in and out, John pumped. In and out, in and out, in and out. 
Faster! Faster! Faster! She was like a Slick-and-Slide covered with melted 
butter, or a tunnel greased with warm jelly. She was definitely the best 
cunt that he had ever had the pleasure of sticking his dick into. 

Kimberly now knew why her mother liked sex so much. She realized that a 
woman could become very fond of this kind of activity. It sure beat school 
work. In fact, it beat anything Kimberly had ever experienced. 

She cursed herself for not having fucked earlier. She could have been 
balling from the time she reached puberty-and that was nearly four years 
beforehand. 

She almost broke down and cried when that realization crossed her mind. Four 
years! Damn! That was nearly 1400 days wasted. And if she could have worked 
out the logistics she could have had three fucks a day! That would have been 
over 4000! 

Now she really wanted to cry. 

She continued to meet each of John's thrusts with a counter-thrust of her 
own. And during one of her counter-thrusts another realization popped into 
her mind. She decided that she could make up for lost opportunities. From 
hereafter she would fuck at least four times per day for the next twelve 
years. That should compensate for missed chances. She just hoped that Uncle 
John could continue to get it up for that long. It would be a shame if he 
came down with the sick dick syndrome. 

Again John felt his ejaculate boiling at the base of his balls. His testes 
were being tested. They were being forced to work overtime. But this was the 
kind of work which a man could never grow tired of. This was bliss. This was 
nirvana. 

He felt his sperm begin to rush upward. Gobs of man juice was charging up 
his seminal tubes like a herd of lemmings dashing to the open sea. They 
rushed out of the head of his cock and into the young girl's waiting womb. 
Her viscous sea. The warm tidal pool of sex. 

"Arrgghhh!" he screamed like a banshee when he felt his release. 

"Ohhhhh!" cried Kimberly, rotating her ass like a crankshaft in motion, 
swirling it around without regard to decency or propriety. "Ohhh! Ohhh! 
Ohhh!" she kept saying over and over as she moved her ass as if it had a 
will of its own. 

Pamela smiled. Hallelujah! Her daughter had experienced the thrill of 
orgasm. Thank goodness! And to think that it had happened during her first 
fuck! Thank god! The young girl wouldn't have to wait for years to learn 
about the joy of sex. 

John relaxed and pulled himself out of the young woman's clinging snatch. He 
eased himself out carefully, not wishing to alarm the girl by any sudden 
action. He was amazed at her cunt's suction. It felt like he had his cock 
trapped in a NASA vacuum chamber. When he felt the head of his cock caught, 
he pulled back suddenly and a loud "plop" sounded around the room. 

Pamela giggled, turned to Kimberly, and said, "My goodness, honey. You 
really were tight. I haven't heard that sound coming from my cunt for over a 
decade." 

Kimberly smiled. Her mother had displayed a charming sense of humor. The 
young girl was getting to like the older woman more with each passing 
moment. She found it strange that group sex brought out the best in people. 

John lay back at the foot of the bed, exhausted. He had fucked two beautiful 
women in less than an hour. Not only did he need to rest for a few minutes, 
but so did his dick and balls. They were sore. 

Meanwhile Kimberly looked over at her mother. She was amazed at Pamela's 
beautiful appearance at that moment. The two of them had shared a 
wonderfully intimate experience. They had watched each other getting fucked 
by a master-fucker. At that very moment each of their pussies had his sperm 
soaking their respective ovaries. Little brotherly sperm cells were swimming 
around in the respective vaginas. 

The mother seemed to sense what her daughter was thinking. "It's wonderful, 
isn't it, dear?" 

"I'll say, mom. I think that sex is the greatest. I could never go back to 
being a virgin." 

Pamela reached out and felt her daughter's breast. It was so like her 
own-firm, and shapely, and nearing full-development. It was quite apparent 
that her daughter obviously had one of the best looking bodies in high 
school. That meant that she would probably soon be Numero Uno. Pamela gave 
the titty a playful squeeze. 

"That tickles, mom." 

"It's meant to," she said as she squeezed again. 

"Stop that or I'll squeeze your titty." 

"Go ahead. I dare you." 

The teenager reached forward and gave a tentative feel to her mother's 
breast. Although she had seen her mother getting fucked numerous times, she 
had never touched her body intimately. She nicked her hand against the hard 
little nipples and squeezed them. She nicked the right one again and again, 
delighting in its playfulness. 

"It feels good, doesn't it?" 

"I should say so. I didn't know that caressing another woman's breasts could 
be so wonderful." 

"Neither did I", whispered Pamela, feeling a sudden warmth rush over her. 

Kimberly worked her way down her mother's body and began stroking the firm 
incurving stomach. She smoothed her hand along the flat plain of the belly 
and circled the center of the abdominal bowl. She dipped her index finger 
into the navel, tracing the little, almost invisible, line which extended 
vertically from a point just below the breasts to the belly itself. 

She liked the shape of her mother's navel. It was an "innie" rather than an 
"outie." She followed the faint line upward to the cleavage, then downward 
to the outer limits of the blonde pubic hair. And then, she took the biggest 
risk of all: she traced her finger down to the very edge of the hairy blonde 
forest, to the very tip of the moist slit itself. 

Pamela knew that she should stop the game before it got out of hand. And 
yet, it felt good. It felt wonderful. It felt delicious. She watched her 
daughter's fingertip head down through the little tangled nest of curls and 
stop at the very top of her gash. Slowly, deftly, carefully the young girl 
pushed her way between the moist folds, feeling first the clitoris and then 
the vagina itself. 

When Kimberly first touched the clit, Pamela nearly fainted. It was like a 
light switch had been thrown on. Her entire body suddenly became one 
mega-wattage inferno of sex-charged hormones of uncontrollable passion. 

"Ohhhh!" the older woman moaned, arching her body against the searching palm 
of her daughter. 

Kimberly enjoyed the sensation of feeling inside of her mother's snatch. It 
was warm, moist, slick, and still filled will vaginal secretions and sperm. 
The youngster soon learned that this is what life was all about. Everything 
came from this one particular piece of anatomy. Everything in human society 
originated in the hole of a woman. Men undertook careers so that they could 
acquire money, so that they could spend that money on women, so that the 
women would go to bed with them, so that the dick could be put in the hole. 

Women made themselves attractive and adopted social customs for the sole 
purpose of exercising their little holes. And society went to war on the 
basis of sexual frustration and sexual fulfillment. Just look at the rape of 
the Sabine women and what it did to Rome! There were the Sabine's living 
just north of the ancient city of Rome. The Roman soldiers had such a great 
time raping those lovely Sabine's, they decided to keep on raping and keep 
on going. And what did they wind-up doing- conquering nearly all of the 
known world. 

Yep, pussy. That's what mattered. The world revolved around it. Civilization 
was based upon it. Pussy was the thing which counted most in the whole 
scheme of the cosmos. And yet, pussy was never happy unless it had a hard 
cock buried in it. 

Kimberly scooted forward, next to her mother, and kissed her tit. 

"Oh baby!" sighed Pamela pressing the breast into her daughter's mouth. "You 
haven't done that since you were a child. Oh suck it, please." 

Kimberly did. She opened her mouth and began lapping at the lovely breast. 
It tasted delicious. It was warm-so wonderfully warm. She continued to 
dabble her index finger along her mother's gash, and then she slipped it 
into the hole itself. She liked the feel of it. The vagina seemed to have a 
mind of its own. It puckered around the very tip of the finger, gripping it. 

Kimberly looked at her mother's face, and asked, "Where on earth did you 
learn that trick?" 

Pamela smiled and said, "See. Your mother knows a few things that you don't. 
I used to exercise it on your father's penis until he got such a big beer 
belly that I couldn't get a grip on it anymore. It's one of my favorite 
exercises. I learned it in yoga class back in college." 

"When I get to college, I'll have to take yoga." 

Pamela kissed her daughter on the forehead and said, "See why I want you to 
get into a good college? I want you to be able to take courses about 
fucking." 

"Tee hee. I'll have to remember that, mom." 

John scooted up so that he was positioned behind Pamela. He looked down at 
her full, firm, shapely buttocks. He leaned forward as she kissed her 
daughter fully on the lips. He whispered, "Lady, you've got a beautiful 
ass." 

Pamela broke the kiss and looked over her shoulder. She smiled and said, 
"You know, there's one thing that I've never done which I've always wanted 
to do." 

John beamed brightly. "Are you referring to what I think you're referring 
to?" 

She blushed. 

Kimberly noticed her flushed complexion and realized what was in store. 
"Butt-fucking! Wow! I've always wanted to know what it was like! Oh mom! 
you've just got to do it. I want to watch! Even Mr. Eldridge doesn't talk 
about it." 

Pamela giggled. "Well, why don't you grab the jar of Vaseline off the table 
and let's go for it." 

John quickly pulled the jar from the table and placed a liberal amount on 
his hands. He then took a big gob and rubbed it around her sphincter muscle. 

"Ohhh!" she moaned, wiggling her ass. "That's cold." 

"Don't worry. Soon it'll warm in that lovely asscrack of yours." 

Kimberly was naturally curious. She looked down and watched in wonder as 
John's fingers coated her mother's ass. She admired his technique. He was 
loving and gentle. 

"Why don't you get into position?" John asked. "It'd be a lot easier if you 
had your ass thrust up in the air so I could get at it better." 

"All right," Pamela replied. She rolled over onto her stomach and got up on 
her knees. Keeping her head on the pillow, she angled her ass upward and 
reached behind her with her hands to separate the asscheeks. 

He now had a full unobstructed view of her crack. He admired its 
cleanliness. That trait was something which he respected. A peachy clean ass 
meant that the woman was hygienic. Over the years he had learned that 
nothing was more disgusting than preparing for anal sex and finding out at 
the last moment that woman wasn't a thorough ass wiper. 

But Pamela's asshole was a very healthy pink, resembling a little pink 
rosebud. Below her anal ring he could see her pussy, all plump and rounded. 
To make sure that she was thoroughly coated, he rubbed his fingers over the 
area time and again. 

It wasn't long before he had another hard-on. He leaned forward and asked, 
"Are you ready, lady?" 

"I've been waiting for this moment for years. Go ahead. Make my night," she 
said with a smile, paraphrasing Clint Eastwood. 

John took the tip of his cock and placed it at the center of her anus. He 
rubbed it back and forth several times, coating it with the warm Vaseline. 
He looked over at Kimberly and smiled. And then, in one move, he shoved the 
head of his cock inside her mother's rectum. 

"Oh!" Pamela's blue eyes opened wide with surprise. She immediately called 
out, "Ow! Ow! That hurts!" 

"Easy lady. Easy. It's not going to hurt for very long. The first time with 
anal sex is like the first time with a virgin-you've got to get used to it. 
Believe me, I won't hurt you. You know that." 

She found the words reassuring. It was a genuine comfort to be in bed with a 
man who cared. 

He leaned forward slightly, shoving another couple of inches up her rear 
passageway. Again she twisted her head in anguish, but this time she did not 
cry out. She knew that she must bear the slings and arrows of pain in order 
to reach that plateau of sexual satisfaction and that nirvana of sexual 
bliss which existed in the heavenly beyond. 

Another inch, followed by another and another and another slipped into her. 
Each following the other with certainty and gentleness. His massive cock 
pummeled inward and downward, pushing ever onward. 

Kimberly looked over and smiled. Uncle John was truly amazing. He was just 
as gentle with her mother's first anal fuck, as he had been with her first 
vaginal one. 

John got himself all the way in-all eight inches-until his balls rested 
between Pamela's widespread thighs. They hung down and touched the inner 
flesh. "Ahhh!" he sighed. 

He let the penis rest in her anal confines for a while, not moving it at 
all. He wanted to allow her time to get acquainted with his enormous girth 
and tremendous length. There was no point in hurting her. After all, as she 
had said: sex was meant to be tantamount to enjoyment, not pain. 

She was beginning to enjoy it too. She batted her eyelashes and stuck out 
her tongue to moisten her lips. She really liked the sensation of being 
filled back there. Maybe it wasn't as great as vaginal intercourse, but it 
had its merits. It was different. Simply different. 

Kimberly could see a psychological change occurring in her mother. The older 
beauty was arching her back, forcing her buttocks backward, attempting to 
accept more of Uncle John up her tight virginal rectum. "Is she snug, Uncle 
John?" 

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" he grunted three times in rapid succession. "Every woman 
is tight back here. It's the tightest place on a woman's body. Ungh! Ungh! 
Ungh!" 

"Can I be next?" Kimberly asked innocently like a child wanted to ride on a 
teeter-totter. 

John didn't even bother to look at her. He simply kept his eyes closed and 
said, "Honey, by the time that I shoot my wad for the third time, I don't 
think that I'll be able to get it up again until tomorrow morning. Sorry." 

"I bet that I can get it up for you after you finish with her." 

He smiled as he continued to thrust and pump. "Well, maybe you're right. I 
might be surprised. I've already been amazed at how much sperm I've been 
able to produce tonight." 

"I'll say," said Kimberly. "It feels like I've got a little farm pond 
sloshing up inside of me." 

That statement immediately silenced him. The color drained out of his face. 
He looked at her, turned serious, and asked, "By the way, baby, are you 
currently using birth control pills?" 

Those words registered on Pamela's mind at the same instant. She suddenly 
looked over, momentarily stopping her moaning, groaning, and grinding. 
"Uncle John has raised a very good point, honey. Are you using anything?" 

"Of course," Kimberly replied. "Mr. Eldridge passes out birth control pills 
to all the girls in his classes. A female doesn't get advanced into the 
second semester unless she passes the mid-term. I've been on the Pill for 
over six months. It's great, but this is the first opportunity which I've 
had that I could actually use it." 

Pamela breathed a sigh of relief as did John. Kimberly remembered when her 
mother had once told her about the importance of using birth control pills. 
It had been fun listening to the older woman explain intimate things in such 
detail. However, the youngster had known about the Pill ever since she had 
first seen her mother and father making love when she was eight years old. 
Since that night, she had become an authority on all human sexual 
behavior-especially that of her parents. 

Meanwhile, John held onto Pamela's lovely hips as he fucked into her with as 
much energy as he could muster. No longer was he gentle. Now he was a 
tempest of thrust. A sexual cyclone. He was moving his pelvis back and forth 
at a staccato rhythm, and as a consequence her body was shaking violently, 
yet sensually, in his hands. 

He liked to watch her buttocks bounce as he smashed his pelvis against them. 
He loved to hear his balls slap against her inner thighs as he drove forward 
and stopped abruptly. 

Back and forth he moved like an Oklahoma oil well. Back and forth. Back and 
forth. Moving and pumping, pumping and moving. In and out, in and out. 

"Ahhh!" Pamela moaned. 

For the third time that night he felt his balls churning. Another fresh 
batch of sperm had been produced and was coming up through his testicles, 
moving into his lower dick, rushing upward, upward, upward. 

Finally it blasted out of him and into her rectum. 

"Ahhhh!" she moaned, followed by an, "Mmmph!" She felt his sperm splash into 
her and fill her to overflowing. 

"Wow!" exclaimed Kimberly. "That's intense." Within a few minute John pulled 
out of her and lay back on the bed. Now he was really exhausted. He was 
royally fucked out. 

Pamela felt a sudden rush of air up her rectum as her freshly stretched 
sphincter muscle had a difficult time closing. She also collapsed on the 
bed. 

She rolled over on her back and allowed her long tapered legs to fall open, 
spreading apart naturally. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched. 
"Ahhh! I swear. I think I've been fucked out for the second time this 
evening. First the vagina-now the asshole. Wow!" 

Kimberly looked at the lovely women stretched beside her. Not only had the 
youngster experienced her first intimate sexual experience, but she had also 
witnessed her mother's first anal fuck. 

Now the time had come to experience something else. She raised herself over 
her mother's prone body and kissed the top of the breast. 

"Mmm!" moaned Pamela, still sated from her carnal workout. "It feels so 
good." 

Kimberly licked the left nipple, then the right, then the left, and then the 
right again. She then made a trail of kisses down her mother's body. Down 
across the flat plain of the concave abdomen. Down to the navel. Down to the 
slightly rounded lower abdomen. Down to the upper ridge of the pubic line. 
All the while she was following the same path which she had earlier traced 
with her finger. Now she was using her mouth. She like this method much 
better. It was much more intimate. She was able to taste as well as feel. 

Pamela opened her eyes and quickly realized what her daughter was up to. 
"Kimberly honey, you shouldn't do that." 

Her daughter wasn't paying attention. She proceeded downward on her mission 
of pleasure. She found the gaping lips and parted them with her tongue. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" moaned Pamela, again responding to the wonderful 
excitement of uninhibited sexuality. "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" she cooed. 

Kimberly found the little clitoris and flicked it with her tongue. She 
licked it, moistened it, and felt it pulsing with passion. She even nibbled 
it a few times with her teeth. 

"Oh my god! That's great! Oh!" Pamela was now going bonkers. She began 
thrusting her pelvis against her daughter's face. She no longer had any 
reservations about where her daughter was sticking her tongue. Now she 
simply wanted that tongue to do its thing down there. She wanted it to lap 
away. She wanted to experience the thrill of cunnilingus. 

At first, Kimberly wasn't too hot for the taste of pussy, but soon she began 
to like it. She had learned that the psychological aspects of sex, far 
outweighed the occasional unpleasant aromas and fragrances. Sometimes the 
psychology of sex outweighed the incredibly intense physical sensations 
associated with it. Given time she knew that her taste buds would adapt to 
anything. That's the way that children eventually learned to eat spinach and 
carrots. Everything was simply an acquired taste. 

She allowed her lingual appendage to dabble in the moist furrow, moving it 
from the clitoris, down to the vagina, back to the clitoris. She was 
cleaning her mother's cunt just like a little vacuum cleaner. 

Pamela felt the tongue dipping and probing in and out of her moist nest-over 
and over and over again. She knew now that if she didn't go crazy she never 
would. 

"It tastes good down here," said Kimberly. 

John looked over and said, "It looks like you girls are having fun." 

Meanwhile, Pamela screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt another 
intense orgasm approaching. "Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrghhh!" She thrust her legs wide 
apart, enjoying a sensual sensation which she had never known before. She 
was literally bashing her Mound of Venus against Kimberly's face. 

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

Kimberly didn't mind. This was the price one had to pay for delving into 
areas other than heterosexualland. She licked, lapped, tasted, and 
swallowed. Her little tongue was a shovel working overtime between her 
mother's widespread thighs. 

After she gave her mother twelve orgasms in a row, she decided to stop. She 
didn't want to drive the poor woman into the insane asylum. She lifted her 
come-smeared face and lay back on the bed. She wiped her nose and chin with 
the sheet and looked back at her mother. 

The elder beauty was wearing the happiest expression that she had worn in 
ages. 

 CHAPTER 6 

"I think it's time that we go into the bathroom and clean ourselves up, 
dear," Pamela said to her daughter. 

Kimberly turned and looked at John. "You can come too." 

He smiled and got up. The trio headed to the bathroom. 

Pamela squatted to douche herself, separating the labia and squirting a warm 
jet of water up into the hole. When she finished, she showed Kimberly how to 
use it. The lovely teenager squatted over the toilet and did the same thing 
as her mother. She bet that there weren't too many daughter's in town who 
had this kind of experience: washing out an uncle's sperm while the mother 
stood beside her and did the same. 

John watched in fascination as the women took care of their hygiene. He had 
never been privy to this intimate act before, therefore he found it 
extremely informative. 

When they finished he asked, "Okay, who's going to be the first to get into 
the shower?" 

"I will," Pamela replied. 

"Hey! Wait a minute!" said Kimberly. "I was the one who brought you guys 
together. If it wouldn't have been for me you would have had a very dull 
evening." 

John laughed. "You're absolutely right, sweetheart. Come on in. Have a good 
time." 

"Thank you, Uncle John." 

Pamela didn't know how or what to feel about showering with two other 
people. But then, so what? She had already been screwed by her 
brother-in-law and tongued clean by her daughter. One more depraved act 
wouldn't matter one iota. 

"Why don't one of you beauties stand on side of me, and the other on the 
other side?" he asked, patting them both on the ass as he made the 
suggestion. 

"An Oreo sandwich, eh?" said Kimberly. 

John looked at her and said, "Well, I don't know if I could call it a true 
'Oreo'." 

"I swear!" exclaimed Pamela. "I don't know what either of you are talking 
about. What's an 'Oreo sandwich'?" 

The youngster explained, "That's when you've got a white female wedged 
between two blacks and they're both fucking her-one in the ass, one in the 
vagina." 

"How do you know such things?" asked Pamela as she grabbed a washcloth and 
began rubbing the area between her thighs. 

"Mr. Eldridge is a very good teacher." 

"Remind me to vote for the next tax base for schools," John replied. "It 
seems like we're finally getting our money's worth with education." 

"Amen to that," agreed Pamela. 

Kimberly laughed and said, "Actually this situation is more like a vanilla 
wafer, and John is the creamy filling." 

They all grouped together tightly in the small shower. There was barely 
enough room, but they managed. John played with Pamela's breasts for a 
while, and then turned to play with Kimberly's. And then he would wash 
Kimberly's cunt until it was all nice and soapy, before turning to do the 
same with Pamela's. 

He didn't know why, but he enjoyed washing a female's genitals. He loved to 
stroke the pubis with a washcloth and then gently nudge the bar of soap 
along the length of the slit. He found it to be the most fun game since he 
played with his little toy trucks as a child. 

Naturally it wasn't long before he was hard as a lead pipe again. Barely a 
moment had passed before he wanted to stick his meat in one of the beautiful 
females. 

Kimberly turned and saw his erection. She slapped it playfully and asked, 
"Hey! How about a game of Switcheroo Pussy?" 

Pamela also slapped John's penis asked, "Switcheroo Pussy? What's that?" 

"It's a game where we both face the mirror, bend over the sink, and John 
sticks his wick into us from behind. He then goes from one female to 
another." 

"I never heard of such a silly game." 

"You must have. It was all the rage back in the 1970's-along with 
streaking." 

John patted the youngster's ass and said, "That's the silliest thing I ever 
heard of." 

"It's not silly at all. I think that it would be a lot of fun. C'mon! What 
do you say? Let's try it." 

He really did want to participate. However he was afraid to speak his mind 
for fear of offending Pamela. Ironically, she too wanted to play the game, 
but she didn't speak up because she was afraid of offending John. As was 
typical, the sexes wanted the same thing, but they were afraid to 
communicate their wants because of society's silly conventions. Somewhere 
along the line, human civilization had gotten screwed up. Somewhere in the 
distant past some asshole in authority got the idea that sex was bad, that 
women were worthless, and that the only thing worth living for was hard work 
and a miserable existence at the hands of the rich. And yet, human nature 
revels in the glories of sex. The human body was the best fucking machine 
ever designed. Women can fuck all day long and have three hundred orgasms, 
and men got more hard-ons than any other animal on the planet. 

Of course, Pamela was also afraid of Aids. But when she realized that these 
were her family she smiled and agreed. After all, they seemed to be a 
hygienically clean group. 

"C'mon!" said Kimberly. "Let's towel ourselves off and get out to the sink. 
I want to bend over for a late night snack of hard-dick on rye. I can't wait 
to have that shaft of his up my love channel one more time." 

"Goodness! said Pamela. "You've already starting to sound like an old hand 
at this, Kimberly." She was worried about her daughter's preoccupation with 
sex. But then, that was the way parents had been since the beginning of 
time. They were always worrying about the present situation. Oh well! At 
least Kimberly was involved with sex and not with drugs. She supposed that 
as a parent she should be happy and thankful for that. 

John watched the two females as they bent over the sink, letting their tits 
dangle. He couldn't get over how gorgeous their bodies looked from behind. 

"Me first!" said Pamela gleefully. 

"Hey! No! Me first!" said Kimberly. 

"Now girls. Don't argue. There's plenty of dick here for the both of you. 
Just reach down between those luscious thighs of yours and spread those 
pussy lips. I'll satisfy that hunger which you have in those little holes 
down there." 

He looked from one to the other, from mother to daughter, he could tell that 
these pussies were related. Each had the same distinctive oblong shape. Each 
pouted outward slightly. Each slit looked like a vertical smile. They were 
about the same size and texture. The only real difference was in the hairier 
attributes of the mother. He guessed that could be expected. After all, she 
was older. 

John realized that by agreeing to play Switcheroo Pussy with his niece and 
his sister-in-law, he had reached the bottom of the hedonistic barrel. If 
there was a hell, he would surely be sent there on a nonstop, one-way, 
express train. The only thing worse than playing this sordid game would be 
to play Switcheroo Anus. He guessed that particular version was all the rage 
in San Francisco. 

Ironically, for all of John's moral trepidations about playing, he did 
anyway. He worried that if he didn't, he might never get the chance again. 
And if there was one lesson which he had learned in life, it was to never 
let an opportunity pass. Seize it whenever it presents itself-whether it be 
in the form of career, education, salary, or pussy. Life was simply too 
precious, and time was too short to wait for events to happen by means of 
chance. Most people go to their graves wondering why life had passed them 
by. They generally never learned to seize opportunity. 

For all of his moral dilemmas about going ahead with the licentious game of 
Switcheroo Pussy, he had to admit that he certainly enjoyed it. And he 
especially liked sticking his penis into his niece's tight cunt. He had 
never had one so young before-nor so tight and deep before. Of course, very 
few men that were his age had stuck their cocks into a snatch so 
young-primarily because they realized it was against the law! 

As he worked his way in and out of Kimberly, in between taking time to work 
his way in and out of her mother, he realized that there was an added 
dimension accorded to the act of sex by fucking someone as young as his 
niece. He concluded that it was the taboo aspect. It was the same sort of 
thing which made interracial sex so interesting to watch. Black and white 
intercourse was still considered taboo in America. But one couldn't tell it 
from the sale of interracial fuck books. They were all the rage in the porno 
bookstores. 

And then there was the fact that young cunt was simply nice to fuck. Every 
man loved playing the role of sodbuster. 

When John finished shooting his load for the last time, Kimberly turned to 
him and asked, "I hope that this won't be the last time we see you." 

"I don't think so, honey, I think I'll be coming back for more of this 
choice stuff for a very long time. I'd be a fool not to." 

"Oh good!" exclaimed Pamela with an elated sense of joy. 

All of them embraced, knowing full well that they would be back fucking 
together very, very, soon. 

 CHAPTER 7 

When Tom got home early the next morning, he opened the door quietly. He 
didn't want to disturb anyone in the house. He walked as silently as 
possible up the stairs and opened the door to his daughter's room. 

He peeked in. He saw that she was sleeping quietly. 

"Ah! Such a prim and proper young thing, he thought. So innocent and 
virginal. 

He would have to see about sending her to a prim and proper college, where 
she could learn all of those prim and proper things which weren't worth a 
shit in the real world of modern America, but made prim and proper parents 
feel good about wasting money on education. 

Next, he walked down the hallway and peered in on his lovely wife. He saw 
that she too was sleeping soundly. She was so beautiful. She was the perfect 
housewife. Beautiful and dutiful. Just the way a woman should be. In many 
ways, he felt that he didn't deserve her. After all, he had let himself go 
for the past few years. His gut was now as large as that of Jackie Gleason 
during his prime period of fatness. And Tom just kept getting bigger and 
bigger and bigger. Now, his gut was so big that he found it difficult to sit 
down at the dinner table-not to mention the toilet seat. 

Oh well! He had no real reason to worry. Pamela would never leave him. After 
all, she was as happy as lark. 

Ah yes. This was the all-American happy home. He was grateful that he had 
prim and proper Pamela and innocent Kimberly in his life. 


End
