Alice and I had waited, and waited. Rachel was due home that day, though we didn't know when she would arrive, and we waited on the porch as the sun went down and the stars came out. Our son, four year old Johnny, had fallen asleep in his mother's lap, and Alice carefully stood so as to not disturb him, and left the porch to take him up to his bedroom.

Melody, our daughter, stayed on the porch with her father, not wanting to go to sleep until she got to see her "other" mother. Rachel had given the girl her name, nine years ago, only minutes after Alice gave birth to her. The newborn's mews were like a song to her, and she held the naked and still-messy baby in her arms and said "Melody! That's her name!"

But it was late, and Melody had nodded off herself by the time I heard the distant sound of a car driving down the lane to the Hillcroft Manor. My heart leapt at the sound. Rachel had been away for months, touring Europe with her band, and I longed to see her. She still had that beautiful smile, those big blue eyes. It made my day, just to see her face, even if only in black-and-white in the society pages of the New York Post; just days ago they'd published a review of her wildly successful tour--"Latest all-girl punk band takes Europe by storm." And now, I would finally, after so many months, get to see that beautiful face in person again.

Rachel had barely managed to stop the car before she swung the door open and ran to where I now stood in the lawn, grabbing me in her arms and kissing me. "Brian!" was all she said, then kissed me again.

"Melody stayed up to see you," I said, "though I'm afraid she's fallen asleep. Alice took Johnny up to bed, but I don't know what's taking her so long."

Rachel smiled. "He's probably demanding another story."

"Probably! I'll get your stuff, you go in and find her."

"Sorry I'm so late," she said. "I just couldn't get out of town. I kept telling everyone I had to leave."

"No problem. It's not like we've been sitting on the porch all day waiting!"

She laughed. "You don't know how anxious I was to get home." She kissed me again. "I'll go find Alice now."

I watched as she walked up the steps to the Manor's front porch, leaning over to give Melody a kiss on the forehead.

Rachel was twenty years old now, and she had become a strikingly beautiful young woman. Gorgeous. A "perfect 10," as the kids were fond of saying in those days. Straight, shining blond hair and that same sweet smiling face that she had the day I met her, but now with her mother's physique, petite but strong and solid. And stacked--her breasts were even larger than Emily's. Oh my god what a heavenly set of tits. I could play with them all day and night, and did so as often as I could. When she was still a young teen, she'd taken to calling them her "pillows," because of my habit of laying my head on them to go to sleep. And it was a nickname that stuck.

I was thinking about her "pillows" as I watched her help sleepy Melody to her feet, and the two of them held hands as they walked into the house together.

Rachel was a certifiable rockstar now, with an apartment in the big city and a recording contract and thousands of adoring fans. But the Manor was still her home, and Alice and I still her lovers and her best friends, and she still wore those two wedding rings on her finger that Alice had scrounged from her bag ten years ago when we performed our secret marriage.

As I carried her luggage and guitars up to the Manor, I looked at the big house and thought about all the people who'd walked, or wheeled, through those doors, starting first and foremost with my mother. It had been Rachel and Alice's idea that we should invite her to spend her final years in the house she'd always dreamed would be her home. She was very sick by then, that horrible disease had robbed her of everything, and it turns out to only her final months. But she was as comfortable as she could have been, with the caring daughters she'd always dreamed of having, and her granddaughter Melody, the sweetest baby the world had ever known, sitting on her lap while Grandma read her stories in her quiet, and now raspy, voice. She died one night, peaceful and, I like to think, quite content and happy.

After his wife was gone, my father had little interest in the Manor, and he sold it to me at well below the market rate, and Alice and I still run the place as a hotel. It's not the sort of business model that will make you rich, but we live a comfortable life, with a staff of half a dozen local kids to work the little restaurant and clean the rooms.

And then there's the Richters. Emily's maternal instincts had kicked into high gear after Melody was born; the fact that she was the most beautiful baby on Earth had something to do with that. It was John, home for a few days that fall to see his daughter perform at the middle school talent show, who told me one night over whiskey on the porch that his wife wanted to have another kid.

"We understand," he said, "if you're not interested. I'm sure Alice is a handful, and if I were you, I'd make damn sure that woman was satisfied. I don't think my eyes would wander to another women for the rest of my life. We can find someone else, I'm sure, or maybe a sperm bank..."

I assured him that I was happy to do my part, and that Alice wouldn't mind at all. Besides, she was still recuperating from the birth, and breast feeding. She'd never say no to me, of course, but her libido wasn't presently as supercharged as it normally was. Meanwhile, Rachel had begun experiencing the glorious changes that a girl of eleven goes through, which was the sexiest damned thing you could ever imagine, but it meant that I felt compelled to use a condom when we had sex out of concern that one of those "virile sperm" of mine might find its mark. Sex with a beautiful young girl is fun even with a condom on, but it just ain't the same thing, and Emily had always said that she was my "pussy on retainer." May as well make good on that.

The Richters' named the result of our hard work 'Judith," after John's mother, and a few years later, Emily had a third--this one was the fruit of John's own loins, through the miracle of modern medicine.

A few years back, John was offered at tenure-track professorship at Harvard, an offer too good to be turned down, and so he packed his family up and moved to Boston. That was when Rachel decided to come clean with her parents about our love affair and our "secret marriage;" she was sixteen by then, and thus the relationship legal, at least in the sense that it was legally consensual. We pretended that the sex had only began on her sixteenth birthday, and they played along with that little fiction, and in the end agreed that Rachel should stay at the Manor with Alice and me to finish out her high school.

And so it was that the three of us lived the next two years in the Manor, running the hotel and raising our kids, until Rachel was invited by some friends to form a band, and her life became the whirlwind that it now is.

When I finished lugging her stuff into the house, I found her sitting at the kitchen table with Alice, the two of them having finally succeeded at putting the kids to bed. I joined them, listening with fascination as Rachel recounted the joys and trials of the band's European tour; a show in a basement pub in London had devolved into a fight among the mohawk-wearing punks and a group of hooligans, and the police had to escort the band off the stage. They'd also spent some time behind the iron curtain, with secret service agents in prominent attendance at their shows. It was endlessly enthralling, and sometimes frightening, to hear her tales. I never wanted her to stop, even when the clock chimed 3 AM. But eventually, she'd exhausted the story well, and she sat back with her happy smile.

"It's so good to be home," she said.

"It's so good to have you home!" both Alice and I said in unison.

Rachel turned to look directly at me. "Brian," she said, with a look of seriousness and a certain halting uncertainty in her voice, "I... I stopped taking the pill half-way through the tour."

Surprised, and disappointed, with this news, I wracked my brain to try to figure out what she was trying to tell me with this information. Did she no longer want to have sex with me? I was in my mid-forties by now; it made sense that she wants a lover with less gray hair than me. Maybe she'd found another man, and she was planning to have a baby with him?

Alice, though, always so much quicker than her husband, had a very different reaction to the news. Her face lit in a smile. "You mean...?!"

Rachel smiled back at her, and then looked at me again. "We don't have another album due for a year, and no more touring till then, and all I'm planning to do is hang around here and write some songs. It's really the perfect time."

"Perfect time?" I said stupidly, still confused.

She grinned. "The perfect time to have a baby!"

Oh my god. I almost fell off of my chair.

"If you don't want to..." she said, looking at me, concerned.

"Of course!" I stammered. "Of course I want to!!!"

Alice was laughing. "Of course he wants to! You just practically shocked the pants off of him!!"

"If only!" Rachel laughed along with her wife. She looked back at me. "I know it's late, and it's a big decision. We can talk about it more in the morning."

Alice laughed some more. "It's Brian you're talking about here, Rachel. I guarantee you that he's ready to go right now."

All I could do was grin like a silly schoolboy, and nod.

Now imagine the scene: Rachel, my beautiful lover since she was ten years old and now a gorgeous young woman, a "perfect 10," lying naked on my bed, her wonderful full breasts still young and firm enough that they rose up from her chest despite her supine position, pale, soft pillows topped with large pink areolas. Her legs were open wide in the most inviting pose that a girl can ever give a man--a "fuck me" pose, as me and the girls have always called it. They know I like it when they give me a "fuck me" pose. The light-blond curls of the pubic hair that graced her pussy lips in a most comely manner were damp with her excitement, and those lips, those pale pink pussy lips, so much like they were the very first time I saw them, were parted with her wide-spread legs, showing the dark pink of paradise inside.

As I just stood and admired her, she looked at Alice, who sat cross-legged on the bed nearby. "I'm gonna have to tell him to hurry up, aren't I?" she said, hearkening back to a joke we'd had between us for years. The girls laughed, and I grinned and shook my head, and climbed onto the bed between those open legs.

Here's the thing about pussy. I don't know if this is true about all pussies, but as fun as Rachel's was when she was ten, and eleven, and twelve, and thirteen--you get the point--it's only gotten better with age. And maybe it was because she was excited about the prospect of pregnancy, or maybe she was just at that ideal point in her ovulatory cycle, when her body is anxious to have a man. But regardless of the reason, her pussy was absolutely perfect that night, open and inviting, accepting and willing, wet and distended and yet almost miraculously tight. It isn't possible for there to be something more beautifully designed to make a man ache with desire, to welcome him and caress him, and milk his cum from him.

When my cockhead made first gentle contact with her splayed-open lips, she pushed her hips towards me, and lifted them, and those lips did exactly what they are made to do, wrapping lusciously around my anxious head and pulling me in, instinctively directing me to the opening of her vagina. The succulent warmth sent rivulets of excitement through my body and I shook; my legs shook, and my hips, and my torso, an excited pre-orgasmic moment of unbridled pleasure. This pussy is my home. This is where my cock belongs. This is what he longs for, what he lives for.

The flesh inside was slick and slippery and wet, and oh so tight. It was a different sort of tightness, though, than she'd had when she was ten. This was not a reluctant tightness that had to be overcome, that had to be taught to accept me; no, this was the tightness of a warm and welcoming embrace, a firm, experienced grip, a squeeze simultaneously both gentle and aggressive. And rather than having to force my way through the tightness, as it had been when she was young, this grip, this squeeze, pulled me in.

This was a pussy that wanted cock, just as badly as my cock wanted her.

A moment later, my balls settled up against her ass, and we were united as one, deep inside her body. She slid her hips, inviting me, begging me, to move, and I begin my rocking, her vagina holding fast to me but allowing me to move freely. As I delved deep, her pussy lips opened wide around me, even wrapping around my scrotum and inviting my balls, with loving wet kisses, to join my cock inside her.

The first few minutes of our sex was anxious; needy. She'd been away for months, and I had been worried for her safety, and about my place in her life, and now finally I had her with me again, and all of my pent up concern and insecurity was focused laser-like on our carnal act of lovemaking. I could have easily cum in the first thirty seconds, my cock wanting to assert his right to her, his possession of her, and her pussy obviously felt the same and would have gladly, eagerly, done her willing part. But I eventually was able to gain control of my emotions, and I found to my amazed delight that I had before me, underneath me, a most remarkable woman. Her face was red, baby blue eyes still so very large and shining now with joy with its customary sweet and happy smile; her large breasts heaving with the rhythmic motions of our conjoined bodies. I reached out and cupped my hands around those wonderful womanly pillows, and held them up and buried my face between them, then slid, kissing, until I found and nipple and began to suckle. Rachel arched her back in response, offering me the comfort of her breast, simultaneously rocking her hips to make sure that we continued with our lovemaking.

As I kissed her nipple, I heard a soft moan nearby, and from the corner of my eye I saw Alice, masturbating, shaking, cumming, as she watched her husband and wife in our copulation. I rose up to Rachel's beautiful smiling face, and she whispered, "Cum inside me. Please?" before our mouths met and we joined together in another way, in another place, my cock deep inside her pussy and my tongue deep inside her mouth.

When my orgasm finally boiled, after another several minutes, I lifted my head and let out a bellow--a loud, possessive growl. Rachel had an open-mouthed smile, looking up at me with excited shining eyes. She was ready. She wanted my cum. She wanted me to bathe her willing womb with sperm.

"I love you, Brian," she whispered.

I groaned, orgasming, but not yet cumming.

"Put a baby in me!" she said, louder. "Fuck your baby into me!!!"

And my semen rushed out of me, a long, massive blast, draining all of my emotions, all of my concerns and my anxiety, emptying them all in cathartic release into my sweet compliant lover. I continued fucking her and exploding, over and over, until I was thoroughly spent.

"Oh my god,' Alice said, a few minutes later when we had all caught our breath and come down from our orgasmic highs, "that was the hottest sex I've ever seen,"

Rachel grinned. "God, I know," she said with mystical reverence.

"Now you two have to do that every morning and every night until you make a baby!"

"That sounds nice," I said, dripping with understatement, which caused my girls to giggle.

"In fact," Alice said, "I bet he still has some left in him right now."

"I bet he does!" Rachel agreed.

"Let's see if we can get him hard again!" Alice grinned, reaching out to my cock.

"Oh god," I groaned, causing more giggles.

Rachel's hands joined Alice's, and shortly I was growing. The two of them are very skilled with their hands.

But a moment later, there was a little knock on our bedroom door, and the door opened a crack, and the face of our nine year old daughter Melody appeared. Alice sat back, and I grabbed a bedsheet to cover my now-fully erect cock. But Rachel did not remove her hand, instead squeezing tight.

"I heard some noises," Melody said, all innocent and unassuming, "and I couldn't get back to sleep."

Alice gave her a welcoming smile. "Daddy and Rachel are making a baby," she said. "That's probably the noises that you heard. Come in, you can sleep with us if you want."

Melody sleepily sat down next to her mother. She looked at me, then Rachel. "You're gonna have a baby?"

"I hope so," Rachel answered. "We're gonna try!"

"Would you like to have a little baby sister or brother?" I asked the girl.

Her eyes were open wide, and there was maybe a little smile on her face, and she nodded.

Rachel's hand began to move under the sheet, massaging me to full hardness again. "Why don't you snuggle up," she said to Melody, patting the bed next to her. "You can go to sleep while Daddy and I make a baby."

Melody nodded sleepily, and Alice and her little daughter climbed up the bed and lay down next to us, and at the same time, Rachel climbed on top of me, pushing the bedsheet away. Alice and Melody were on their sides, facing us, Alice behind the girl and hugging her, and Rachel reached behind her and grasped my cock and directed it into her. And then Rachel and I made love a second time that night, while Alice held Melody and the two of them watched, Alice smiling, Melody wide-eyed with curiosity. But by the time we finished, the little girl was already asleep.

It was the next morning; Alice had gotten up before the rest of us, to get Johnny his breakfast and deal with hotel stuff. Melody was still asleep, snuggled up to me, and Rachel was crouched between my legs, my happy cock in his lover's mouth-pussy once again, after months and months of waiting and dreaming about her headjob skills.

Melody stirred, and opened her eyes. Rachel pulled off of me and smiled at our daughter. "I'm getting Daddy ready," she explained to the girl, "so we can make a baby again."

Melody sat up on her elbows. "Why do you have to do it so much to make a baby?" she asked, watching with curiosity as Rachel went back to sucking me again. "I thought it just took one time."

"It can," I explained, "but we don't really know. So we want to do it lots, to make sure."

Melody looked at me and nodded, still appearing to be a bit confused. "And you use your mouth to get it ready?"

"That's one way to do it," I answered, "and it works really well. It feels really good."

"Oh, okay." Melody looked back down at Rachel while she fondled my balls and stroked my shaft and bobbed her mouth on my head. The girl still looked confused, but also curious, even fascinated, as she absorbed in her young mind what was happening.

While she sucked, Rachel looked up and saw Melody watching with rapt attention. She pulled off. "Do you want to try?" she asked the girl. "It's really fun. I was around your age when I did it the first time."

Melody looked at me, maybe to see if I objected; when I didn't, she turned back to Rachel. "Okay."

She moved down and crouched over me. "Open really wide," Rachel said, and Melody's mouth fell open, and she leaned down further, and took my head into the warmth of her mouth. Her mouth-pussy.

I groaned as I watched, and Rachel smiled. "He really likes it! You're really good at this!" With my cock still in her mouth, my daughter looked up at me, her eyes twinkling with what now seemed to be mischievous excitement. Rachel started jacking me again, and pulling on my balls. "Suck," she gently instructed the young girl. "He really loves it when you suck."

And Melody sucked.

I rolled my head back in moaned, and I could feel my balls began to boil. But right then, Rachel stopped her hands. "It's really awesome, when he cums in your mouth," she said, "but we don't want him to, not right now."

Melody pulled off and nodded. "'Cause you want him to ejaculate in your vagina," she said, showing off her big girl words, and her big girl knowledge of sex, "'cause you're making a baby."

"That's right," Rachel said. "I think he's ready now. Do you want to watch?"

Melody nodded, quite emphatically.

"Good!" Rachel said. "I was hoping you would stay with us. I was with Alice and your daddy, when they made you. Did you know that?"

"You were?"

"Yeah! And now you can be with us, when we make your little sister or brother! You can be our good luck charm! I think it's going to happen today!"

"I do, too!" Melody said, excited.

Rachel climbed out from between my legs and lay down on the bed. She spread her legs wide open. As I moved on top of her, Melody lay down next to her, and Rachel kissed her on the lips.

"A good luck kiss," she said, just as I was entering her.

Melody kissed her back. "Another one!"

Pumping my hips now, fucking Rachel, I leaned over the two of them. Rachel lifted her head and kissed me. "Daddy needs good luck kiss, too," she said.

And then my sweet daughter Melody lifted her head, and kissed me as well.

Now, I rather doubt that the quality of the sex, or even of the orgasm, is at all correlated to the likelihood of pregnancy. But the sex that morning was other-worldly--fucking beautiful Rachel while my equally beautiful daughter lay with us. And the orgasms--both Rachel's and mine--were mind-blowing. Paradise will be a denouement compared to this. And I was pretty damned sure that the three of us made a baby that morning, and Rachel and Melody were, too.

Nine months later, the society pages at the New York Post blared a headline:

"Punk Rock Heartthrob Rachel Richter Gives Birth to Baby Girl"

"Will the baby play guitar like Mommy? Only time will tell! We're still working to get the dirt on the mysterious older man who is the father. Richter only says, 'He's a family friend.' Lucky family friend indeed!"

---===Fine===---