Chapter 9

As was his custom, Mike swung around to the school to collect his wife. He and Jean walked to work and back together every day, rain or shine. They always spent the time while they walked sharing with each other the events of the day. Somehow, both of them opted not to bring up the subject of Megan.

When they walked in the back door, they found Megan at the cutting board, wearing a cheerful smile, and nothing else. She put down her knife and moved to greet them with a warm hug. "I don't think�" Jean began, but was silenced as Megan placed her index finger on her mother's lips. She had done the same to her father.

"I spent the day today," said Megan solemnly, "sorting and organizing my thoughts and feelings. I realized that I have stumbled into the exact position I had dreamed of my entire life. Now, before I elaborate, you two deserve a cocktail, and a chance to change your clothes -- or not -- and then we can sit and visit. What would you care for to drink?" She withdrew her fingers and smiled at them brightly.

Jean and Mike looked at each other. "I think I'd like Scotch," said Mike, "with water."

"I'll have a glass of white wine, if you please," added Jean.

"I'll fetch 'em," said Megan, "and join you in the living room. Sound OK?"

Jean and Mike agreed. They headed off to the bedroom to change clothes. Soon they returned to find their drinks next to their favorite seats. Megan had parked herself on the sofa, wineglass in hand. Jean and Mike seated themselves, sampled their beverages, and turned to Megan with looks of bewilderment.

"Megan," said Mike, "I can't help it. You are an achingly hot chick." Megan's laugh was like. Words failed him. He was enchanted, again.

"First," said Megan, looking down at her glass, "I'm sorry for last night. No, that's not right. I'm sorry I cried last night, because last night you gave me the one thing I had dreamed of for my whole life. Dreamed of, wished for, and feared I would never have. And, bang, you made my every dream come true.

"I thought, when you began, Mom, that you were going to tell me that you two were going to set up housekeeping together and that I damn well better find myself a sponsor, 'cause it wasn't gonna be you." Megan took her time, taking a sip from her wine, examining its contents. "I was devastated. I couldn't breathe. I've never had a nightmare so awful in my life as the one I had last night, awake, sitting with you.

"But then, after killing me, crushing my very soul, suddenly you gave me light! You gave me the most important thing in the world. You gave me the one thing I wanted more than any other, the one thing I was afraid I couldn't have." Tears were running freely again, unnoticed. "You gave me *my family*, Mom and Dad, you gave me my family for ever and ever. My joy was almost unbearable. But by then I was so emotional, so distraught, that I couldn't tell you. Thank you so much for sharing your bed with me last night. I couldn't have managed to be by myself all night, not in my condition."

"I think," Jean said quietly, "you meant to say 'our bed' and not 'your bed' Sweetheart. I'm pretty sure your Dad will not object?" He shook his head. "But I interrupted you, Megan. Go on, please."

"Mom, Dad, it isn't that I have always lusted after my father. I admit that I have thought about it, even more than a little bit. I never hoped my dad would father children on me. What I did hope, what I really *need*, is to be loved. Unconditional love. No fear, no suffering. Love. And I know that, in a pickup where the concubines have no power, if a woman finds a loving mate, it is the wildest of luck. A lightning strike. A hundred million dollar lottery win.

"Thank you so much for your gift. Thank you so much for the unconditional love, and caring and nurturing you have always given me, the love and caring and nurturing I know I will have for my whole life."

"And here I thought your delivery was spot on, Jean," Mike shook his head in sorrow. "Megan, we didn't mean to frighten you. We didn't mean to hurt you so deeply. Please forgive us."

"I know you didn't," said Megan. "I think it brought us all to the right spot. There is nothing to forgive. Would I forgive your loving concern?"

"I feel better," said Jean. "Now, what does that have to do with your birthday suit?"

Megan giggled. "I've known nearly my whole life that you two sleep nude. I do, too, maybe because you do. I'm comfortable in my own skin, but I have seldom had much chance to go naked. I decided today that I deserved a reward, so I got my birthday suit.

"The second reason has to do with a certain troublesome flap of skin I have. I think I may have been at least a little sexually active, but I never could find the right person to help me break that flap of skin. I thought maybe I'd be able to lure some helpless victim into helping me if I baited the trap properly.

"The third reason is well, all parents think brides are virgins, and all kids think their parents stop having sex when the last child is conceived. Now, the first part won't be true unless I get married awfully soon. I know damned well that the second part isn't true -- I know that you two have an active and happy sex life. But I had visions of us beating around the bush about what's in store for us, and I wanted to encourage some candor and honesty between us. If I'm gonna be your wife," she said, looking at Mike, "and YOUR wife," and she looked at Jean, "then I hope we will be able to talk and act freely with and around each other, and not hide."

"Well," said Jean with a chuckle, "as to the first reason, happy birthday suit. I must say you wear it well." They all laughed. "As for the second, I bet we can find an Army volunteer."

"A NAVY volunteer, if you please!" interjected Mike with a grin.

"Yes," continued Jean, "a Navy volunteer to do the deed, perhaps next month."

"MOM!" shrieked Megan. They all laughed again.

"And, for the third reason," smiled Jean, "I say, in for a penny, in for a pound. You may as well hear our Grand Plan now as later. Maybe you'll find a flaw in our thinking, or add an excellent idea. As I said last night, your dad and I get six concubines. You are one of them. We have yet to decide whether you shall be my sex slave, or your father's sex slave. No matter, five more remain. Two of them must be mothers; more on that in a moment.

"One primary objective of Confederacy extractions is to increase our human population as rapidly as possible. We want to do our part by making absolutely sure that every woman of childbearing age in town who wants to go, does go. We wanted to wait until very near the end to see whether that has been handled while leaving us a slot. If he and I take all women, then your dad will have seven horny women in his bed. Well, maybe six horny women plus you," she winked. "He'll suffer through that if it otherwise means even one woman is left behind. If all of the women are accounted for and we have a vacant slot, we're thinking we should take a male student who tried with all he had to improve his CAP score, but failed. That would mean a family composed of six women and two men.

"We feel that the most vulnerable of the women are the youngest. We feel an obligation to do our part to put as many of them as we can in our loving home, and away from those who would abuse them. Your father is secretly a lecher, and can hardly contain his excitement at having barely-pubescent girls in his bed," and she winked at Mike. "So there will be two eighth graders or, if we don't take a boy, three eighth graders.

"Back to the mothers. We thought that young mothers would be more able to relate to you and to the younger concubines. Older mothers would want to look to me and to your father for adult company. We think that might not be a good idea. So, we're planning on taking young mothers. The selection criteria are generally that they have to have five years' experience, as with one five-year-old, or a three-year-old plus a two-year-old. They must have a minimum CAP score of 5.0 and strong maternal sub-scores.

"And that," she sighed, "is our plan, such as it is. Do you have thoughts? Questions?"

"I think you have done well," said Megan. "I can't think of a single thing I'd change."

"Thank you. Your father is entirely to blame," she smiled.

"In a pig's eye!" chuckled Mike.

"We both share the blame, I guess," she continued. "I'd like to shift the focus for a bit, if you don't mind." Both shook their heads. "I have need of your help, Megan, unless you have other plans for your day each day."

"Oh, good," Megan said. "I liked staying home and moping today, but that was enough of that. I'll gladly help you in any way I can."

"I hoped and rather expected you'd say that," smiled Jean. "Good. I would like you to come to school with me every day, to work at school and to use school as a base. First, I would like you to begin trolling for likely candidates to fill our own family. I don't know exactly how you go about doing that. You'll have to identify and evaluate mothers, teen girls and several candidates for a teen boy. It may be too early to start on the boys. You and I can talk about that tomorrow morning.

"Second, I would like to use you as something of a beater in a tiger hunt. We have a computer database we will be using to attempt to identify high-probability candidates for CAP enhancement training, to match sponsors and volunteers, and much more. Before the database can really shine, we need a scan of everybody's CAP card. The Confederacy supplied us with scanners that have been connected to our computers. Your job would be to track down the miscreants and arm-twist them into scanning their CAP card. If they don't scan their card, they aren't qualified to be extracted with us. They might complain, but they'll all go along. We have hundreds scanned in already.

"Third, I heard some disturbing information at school today. The girls have scared hell out of themselves thinking that they might get to the pickup as virgins. A lot of them have visions of the standard pickup circus, and they don't want to lose their cherries in the middle of an orgy. Some of them are really frightened. Many of them don't have an available male who is sympathetic and will be both gentle and discreet. Losing their cherries in front of the whole town in an orgy would be the worst, in their minds. Being branded sluts in school would be only a little less bad, and it would last a lot longer. I really don't know what I can do to help them, but I feel a strong obligation to do something."

"Ew, that is a disgusting thought," said Megan. "I'd be afraid too if I didn't have access to the biggest hunk in town!" They all laughed. "But seriously, I think it's a sure thing that many of those girls will begin making decisions they'll regret for a long time if they don't see any alternative. You heard about this today?" Jean nodded. "You're pretty well plugged into the grapevine at school, aren't you?" Jean nodded again. "I don't know what to do, either. Let's let our minds work on the problem for a while. I'd hate to see the cure be worse than the condition. But I do think you should push back through your grapevine that you are aware of the problem, and that an answer will come soon, so keep their mouths shut and don't do anything foolish. If the males get wind of the girls' sudden hunger, it would be bad."

Megan sighed. "You guys need another drink. I'll refresh your drinks. You can watch my butt when I walk out. When I get back, I wanna see how much hair you have in your crotches." With a giggle, she rose, collected their glasses, and retired to the kitchen.

While Megan was gone, her parents had complied and now sat completely nude. She set her dad's re-filled glass on the table beside him. "I see your arousal meter is approaching maximum, Dad," as she looked nearly straight down at the head of his cock, which was pointing up toward her. "Now I know how glad you are that you married a stone fox!" and she cocked her head toward her mother. All three laughed. Megan delivered Jean's glass and resumed her own seat. As she settled herself, she quipped, "I like the way you trimmed your bush, Mom." Jean blushed.

"And you had nothing to do with his condition, Young Lady?" Jean asked with a wry smile.

"She's got your good genes, Honey," Mike said.

"Looks fade," sighed Jean. "If anything, I can hope that I've aged well. As for your father, I suspect that he's lost in the thought of helping all those young maidens by deflowering them!" Mike's crimson blush gave lie to his vehement denial.

"I never tire of watching your mother reveal her assets," smiled Mike. "Faded, my foot. You've still got it, my love," and he went to her, collected a loving kiss, and returned to his seat.

Megan squealed, looking back and forth between her folks. "You get what's the word? You get augmented, don't you? So cool! I bet you like looking twenty years old better than you did the last time!" Turning to Jean, she squeaked, "We can be twins!"

"We'll see," Jean sighed.

"Think of it, Dad! The only way you can tell us apart is to see which one of us is lactating!"

Mike groaned and shuddered at the thought. The women chuckled.

"I've thought about it, Mom. I imagined suckling my baby at my breast, and suckling your baby at the other breast. I imagined the babies had their fill, and both of you drained my udders at the same time."

"That is pretty hot, Megan," her mother allowed, blushing. "Although your father will shout denials from the roof, I'm still thinking about the plight of those virgins. We need to find two or three for sure. Maybe they can learn about sex in the loving arms of your father. Maybe even more than the two we'll need."

"Oh, Mom," Megan whispered, "that is the most generous thing you've ever said. You aren't going to be jealous, are you, when Dad beds another woman?'

"Darling, I'm going to *help him* bed other women," Jean said with a blush.

Megan was nonplussed. "Now, we're getting some of the honesty I hoped for all day while I pranced around here naked. Dad, it isn't any shame to admit your attraction. I don't want to be ashamed if you say out loud you saw how slick my thighs are with my juices. I don't want not to be able to tell you my puss is throbbing in anticipation. I want to feel comfortable asking Mom if she's ever loved a woman."

"Maybe it's time to play doctor, Megan," said Mike. "Something like 'I'll show you mine, if you show me yours' kind of thing. But, while you'd share what you *have* done, you'll have to ask us what we *haven't* done."

"Bear this in mind, Honey," added Jean. "In this tiny town, there are far fewer secrets than most people will admit to themselves. John Doe cheating on his wife, or Jane Doe cheating on her husband, is pretty common. The culprits don't even try terribly hard to hide it, but it is so common that it doesn't get a lot of attention. People know, but they don't talk about it much. Everyone knows the lonely divorced women who'll go home with almost any man. Everyone knows the single mothers who are desperate for a dad for their children. Everyone knows which of the young girls are easy, and get passed from man to man.

"But, in this town, men don't cheat with another man. Women don't cheat with another woman. Wife-swapping is extremely dangerous. Single women who want to be able to hold their heads high are very careful about whom they share their beds with.

"So, whatever I may have done in college was put away when I came home. The same is true with your dad. We both appreciate the view occasionally. We even joke about it between ourselves sometimes. But we have never done anything we didn't want the whole town to know about."

At first, Megan was shocked but, as she weighed her mother's words, it made a lot of sense. "So you like women, Mom? You've done that before? You want to do it again?" Jean nodded. "You just told me you two don't fool around with anyone else in town. Do you have couples that don't live in town that you're particularly close to?"

"We used to," admitted Mike. "But we haven't seen them in years."

"Your turn, Megan," said Jean. "You've acknowledged your sex drive, and you're a virgin. How much have you experienced with a boy? Was your roommate good in your bed?"

Megan blushed, but told them, "I've been touched by boys, everywhere. I've seen and touched and even tasted some cocks. But I never took my panties off for a boy, or even let him taste me. I was afraid I'd lose control and hate myself forever. I have made love with my roommate, a few times. We both liked it, but she had a boyfriend who she preferred."

"Are you feeling naughty, Megan?" Jean asked. "Are you feeling nasty?" Megan nodded. "There's something that drives your dad mad with lust, but I will hardly ever do for him. He might even cum, without even touching himself."

Megan got a wicked grin. "Tell me, Mom," she softly said. "You'll like it, too, won't you?"

"Woman, you are evil," croaked Mike.

"Lean back in your seat," whispered Jean, "slide your hips forward, lock eyes with your father and jill yourself off."

Both Megan and Mike visibly shuddered. Wordlessly, Megan followed Jean's suggestions. She reached her hands nearly to her knees, and slowly, lightly pulled them up, up along the tops of her thighs, around her mound, up her abdomen, over her breasts, up her neck, across her ears, through her hair to the top of her head.

After a brief hesitation, she started down again, across her face, down her neck and chest between her breasts, down her abdomen, through her patch and directly over her slit. She extended her index fingers and, starting upward again, outlined her vagina until her fingers met over her clit. Down again, this time within her slit, her fingers pushing her lips outward. Down, until she reached the entrance to her body. Now she used two fingers on each hand to open herself. "Can you see my maidenhead?" she asked. Mike could only groan, a long, low moan coming from his throat. "Look at your cock, Daddy, can you see your baby's blood?" A sharp intake of his breath was his only response.

Upward again, through her thatch with index fingers, up and outward with her whole hands until she had cupped her breasts. She pressed them down, squeezed them, pressed them together with the heels of her curled-up hands, and released them as her hands continued upward and out to her shoulders. Back downward again, with extended index fingers moving between her breasts, and then outward, circling her breasts, round and round in ever tighter circles. Her fingertips climbed her mounds, ever inward, until she had reached her areolae. She ran her fingertips directly over her nipples again and again. She captured them between her thumbs and index fingers, rolling the nipples, pinching them, pulling them away from her body.

Sweat poured from Mike's face, a look of sheer lust on his visage. He had a death grip on the arms of his seat. His rigid pole stood at attention, a fountain of his pre-lubrication running down his shaft.

The Mona Lisa smile on Megan's face belied the pleasure her own body was delivering to her, the intense satisfaction she felt as the object of her father's aching lust.

Nipples released, her index fingers met in the valley between her breasts, then began their journey downward again. Down, through her thatch to its base, then around the perimeter of her hair until her index fingers met again at the top. Down through the thatch, and up, and down and up again.

Now her fingers parted again, the left heading upward toward her breasts... The right moved down to pay attention to her clit, then down again. With two fingers, she scooped nectar and slowly brought her fingers to her face. She positioned her fingers beneath her nose and breathed deeply of her scent. Still with eyes locked onto her father's, she opened her mouth and pushed her fingers in, cleaning her essence from her fingers.

Her left hand had reached its target and was caressing her breasts. She let her right hand trail downward. It briefly lingered on her breast and then headed southward again. When she had passed her thatch, she captured her clit with thumb and finger, defining it between them, pulling it away from her, and squeezing it.

Megan's lust and arousal had brought a bloom of blush over her entire face and neck. The bloom extended nearly to the tops of her breasts. She had never been so excited. She felt the distant beginnings of the orgasm she knew was coming toward her like a freight train, an orgasm far stronger than any, any in her experience.

She withdrew her thumb from her clit and used her index finger to circle it, and pass directly over it, the pressure of her finger causing it to spring back when her finger had passed over the top. She jerked involuntarily, her first tiny orgasm causing her pussy to spasm.

As her orgasm approached, she moved her fingers down around the outer lips to the bottom, then up, inside her furrow and back to her clit. Again and again she did this, her pace quickening with each pass. First once, then again and again, she strummed her clit like a guitar string, before her fingers descended along her lips to the bottom.

Faster and faster she went, as she felt the tightening of her muscles in her legs, and abdomen and even her arms. She could no longer keep her feet flat on the floor, no matter how she tried. Squeaks and strangled grunts started emanating from her throat. She could no longer hold her father's eyes in her own. Instead, she squeezed her entire face closed, lost in her passion.

Finally, her fingers a blur over her clit, her orgasm hit her like a truck. She began to thrash and quake, a loud long keening escaping her throat. On and on the orgasm continued, her body was completely beyond her own control. A long stream of clear fluid arced from her pussy, landing on the floor in front of her.

Mike bellowed his agony, great gouts of white goo a fountain from his untouched cock. Jean's cries joined the chorus as three fingers deep within her brought her own release.

Presently, it was quiet. Megan managed to open her eyes again. She saw the enormous quantity of jizz all over Mike's chest and abdomen. Turning, she saw her mother, now sawing gently in and out of her abused pussy, and caressing her own breasts. She shared deep, loving, satisfied smiles with her parents.

"Don't move, Mike," said Jean softly. She remained still as well. They rested and recovered for a time. Then Jean, a twinkle in her eye, said, "Megan, you aren't finished torturing your father." Megan got a sly smile on her face. "Like you did with yourself, use two fingers to scoop up nectar. Go feed it to your father."

"Oh, please!" was all Mike could say. Megan complied, gracefully approaching her dad. After wafting her fingers under his nose, and watching him breathe deeply of her scent, she moved her fingers in front of his mouth. When he had opened, she slowly pressed her fingers home. She felt his tongue lathe her fingers, searching out every last drop of her essence. When she withdrew her fingers, they smiled at each other, their deep love of each other painted all over their faces.

When Megan turned to return to her seat, Jean softly but sharply said "Stop." Jean approached and knelt in front of Mike, signaling to Megan to copy her. When Megan was in position, Jean got a wicked smile on her face. Turning to Mike, her finger snaked out and collected a gob of white from Mike's abdomen. Turning to Megan, she fed the treasure into her daughter's mouth. Megan smiled and accepted the gift, then reached out and did the same for her mother.

Jean looked at Megan, winked, and turned back to Mike. Collecting another gob, this time she raised herself onto her knees and fed the gift to Mike. He didn't hesitate a bit. Returning to her haunches, she turned back to Mike. "If a man expects you to eat his spend, he ought to be willing to do the same." Mike grunted agreement.

With that, and after a signal to Megan to follow, Jean began carefully to collect with her tongue every bit of Mike's spend she could reach. After a brief hesitation, Megan followed suit. Soon every bit was gone. Megan and Jean returned to their haunches, satisfied smiles on their faces. Mike was wasted, but had a wan smile on his face.

The two women rose and Megan returned to her seat, expecting Jean to do the same. Instead, Jean dropped to kneel between Megan's thighs. "If you had told me you squirt," Jean grinned, "I would have captured every drop." She began to lick the juice from Megan's thighs.

"At first," Megan blushed, "I thought it was pee. I was horrified. Then I found out that it wasn't pee, but that only made me feel a little better. I have to have a towel under me when I masturbate or I make a terrible mess."

"Ambrosia," was all Jean said, continuing her cleanup, now with flattened tongue over Megan's still-sensitive pussy. Turning to look at Mike, she said, "Megan's nectar tastes wonderful, doesn't it Honey?"

"What little I got was fantastic," smiled Mike. "Can I have some more, please?"

"Be careful, Hon," smirked Jean, "it's addictive." Jean rose and returned to her seat. When she turned to seat herself, she found Megan in front of her. "Now, what?" she asked.

Megan smirked. "Your thighs are as slick as mine were. I want to return the favor." Parting Jean's knees, she set about cleaning. Soon, her work was done and she began exploring her mother's pussy with her tongue. Megan felt a hand on her butt and instinctively lifted up. She looked down and was surprised to see the top half of her dad's head, the bottom half covered by her body. Mike reached for her hips and pulled her down onto his mouth. Soon he was exploring her pussy with his tongue.

"Lash my clit a bit, then watch," said Jean. Megan complied. In a moment, Jean rose from her seat and went around Megan. "Look," said Jean as she straddled Mike's hips below his again-rampant cock. As Megan watched over her shoulder, Jean swiped his cock through her slit a few times, then rose up, got into position, and impaled herself. Smiling at Megan, she said, "Turn around facing me and sit on his mouth again." When Megan had re-positioned herself, Jean pulled her into an embrace and began to piston on Mike's cock. Jean sought and found Megan's mouth and the women began kissing passionately. Breasts were found and caressed.

Megan discovered that her father was an expert carpet muncher. It hadn't been long since her last episode, and Megan soon crashed into another powerful orgasm, shaking and quaking. Mike's skill included knowing to go gently afterward, and he limited his activity to soft, gentle licks and kisses.

Megan had to hold on for dear life as her mother pounded herself down onto Mike's cock. Soon Jean keened her own powerful orgasm, slowed, and stopped. The women looked lovingly at each other. With a hand on Megan's shoulder bidding her to remain in place, Jean lifted herself off Mike, clapped her hand over her pussy and brought her cunt to Megan's mouth. Quickly withdrawing her hand, she let Mike's spend flood a very surprised Megan's mouth. "No sense making a mess, or wasting a treat!" she cackled. She bent and delivered a loving, kiss, searching for her own share of treasure. Finding that Megan had swallowed nearly all of it, she broke the kiss. They looked at each other, lovingly, for a moment. After a few licks to clean Mike's cock, Jean returned to her seat. That signaled Megan to follow suit. Mike did the same.

"Look at the time," Jean said. "I hope, Megan, that you didn't have anything cooking. Let's get dinner on and we'll try to pick up our conversation where it left off."

Dinner was prepared and served. The earlier points were re-hashed and put to bed, so to speak. Dinner finished, they shared loving looks at first one and then the other. After a time, Jean said, "Now, Megan, you can say you have delivered a hand job with no hands." They all laughed. "It's getting late. Megan, you have to get up with us in the morning. You have some problem or other that you wanted help with. I think it is time for the main event."

Still buck-naked, they adjourned to the bedroom. They cycled through the bathroom and climbed into bed, Megan in the middle on her back, Jean and Mike each on one side of her on their sides.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" asked Mike. Megan simply nodded vigorously and smiled. Jean and Mike approached and began kissing Megan, one on her lips and the other elsewhere on her head and neck. Their hands found their way to Megan's breasts and began caressing, squeezing and pinching. Megan began to squirm in arousal. Jean's hand snaked down and began gently but firmly preparing Megan's pussy for its imminent invasion. When Megan could no longer control the movements of her pelvis, Jean pulled away, signaling Mike to do the same. Jean nudged Mike into position above and between Megan's legs. Jean aligned Mike's cock at Megan's entrance.

"Gently, slowly press yourself toward him, trying to force him into you." She did. "Do that several times. It will be sudden when it happens, but it will happen. When he breaks through, hold very still, until the sting goes away and you get used to the feel."

Mike kept his eyes locked on Megan's as she did as she was told. On the fourth pass, Megan's face registered shock, and some pain. Mike remained stock-still for a while. A radiant smile graced Megan's face. "I'm a woman, Momma," she breathed. Jean could only smile and nod.

Jean continued, "Lie still until the pain recedes. When you're ready, say so. Dad will slowly begin again. When you get him entirely inside you, he'll stop and let you get used to the feeling."

Complying with her mother's guidance, Megan soon had Mike's pelvic bone against her own, the end of his cock firmly against her cervix. The radiant smile was replaced with a look of wonder. "I feel so full!" she breathed. "It feels so right!" Megan looked down at her father, her lover, and saw him smiling back up at her serenely.

"The finish line," chuckled Jean, "is thataway," not pointing anywhere. "When you feel comfortable, let Dad know and he'll resume. Set the pace and force that suit you. We've drained your father twice tonight, so he'll be able to last a long time. Have as many orgasms as you can take. The first time only happens once. Have the ride of your life!"

While Megan laid still, becoming used her new invader, Jean moved in and began kissing her lovingly but passionately. Jean broke the kisses and zeroed in on Megan's breasts, licking, sucking and biting them in turn. She felt Megan shudder from the attention afforded to her breasts, and also from the feel of cock inside her.

Soon, at a nod from Megan, Mike began to saw in and out, carefully at first but, as her comfort and confidence built, with greater and greater speed and power. Jean could no longer keep Megan's breasts in her mouth and instead fed her own breast into Megan's mouth. Megan soon pulled away, laboring for breath. Jean moved slightly away and stroked Megan's face.

The expressions on Megan's face were amazing: wonder and joy, lust and love all rolled into one. Jean sensed the approach of Megan's first orgasm from intercourse. When it came, Megan screamed, and thrashed and quaked. She didn't stop, but she slowed for a time. She soon quickened her pace in search of another O. It again came powerfully over Megan, with the same response. Again she slowed but kept going. By the time her third orgasm arrived, Mike couldn't hold back any longer. He sprayed jet after powerful jet deep within his daughter, his lover. Megan's eyes got as big as saucers and she went wild, bucking and thrashing. Finally, she was spent. She pulled Mike onto her chest with a long groan of sheer pleasure. Mike kissed the top of her head while he spoke softly to her of his love. Jean was close to both of their faces.

When she had recovered, Megan nudged Mike to sit up. She was still full of Mike's cock. "That was incredible!" she whispered. "I love you both so much!"

"And we love you, Kitten," whispered Jean. "Welcome to your new life. Let me get a towel. You'll be amazed at the flood when you get up." Jean placed a towel in front of Megan as Mike withdrew his rapidly deflating cock. Jean had hardly moved the towel into place when a mass of white gushed from inside her.

"Tonight is a school night," Jean chuckled. "We oldsters need our beauty sleep. Can we cuddle up and go to sleep?" And they did.

On Tuesday morning, a few of the boys were tardy, but there were no absences. Two of the teams who had failed to make an appearance in the pool on Monday were in the bleachers, nude. After the briefest of instructions, the students were sent on their way.

Amy had been detailed to Jean. Bob had decided to take the first shift in the pool today. He had had so much fun with Heather yesterday that he wanted a repeat performance with the newest proctors, Mary Osborne, the music teacher, and Shannon O'Brien, the art teacher. He induced them to help Heather outdoors. Drawing Heather aside, he extracted a promise from Heather not to speak about the pool to the two newbie. She got a wicked grin and heartily agreed. In a moment of inspiration, Heather told Bob to expect either Mary or Shannon at the beginning of the second session, so she could learn how to aid the students. Heather said she'd start talking about it early in the first session, but spring the dress code on her at the last minute. They both laughed at Heather's evil plan.

Bob added the detail that Heather should spring her trap just early enough for the victim to struggle against, and then surrender to her fate and still make it into the locker room at 9:45. He didn't want to subject her to the rush of students, and the inevitable ogling, that would be part and parcel of her stripping while the students changed. Heather agreed.

Bob spent the time just before the students were due in the gym by patrolling one of the locker rooms. The scenery was pleasant, and there were no incidents. When all of the students had filed out, Bob undressed, showered, and made his way down to the pool.

Soon enough, the two teams made their appearance. He gave them about the same spiel that Amy had used the day before. His was delivered with more alacrity, because he knew that having a half-dozen naked high school girls standing in front of him would quickly cause him a growing problem. The kids got busy right away. They seemed to get a handle on the essential elements of the touch handoff, but it was clear that much practice was needed. He reminded them that they also needed to swim lengths to improve their strength and skill; they also needed to begin work on their underwater swim.

The two teams had left enough space on one end of the pool to allow Bob to do some laps. He dove in and began a steady rhythm. Never having been on a swim team, he couldn't do a smooth racing turn. He tried, but it was clumsy. He decided he would ask someone to teach him some time soon.

He swam steadily, and without a break, for five double laps � half a kilometer, he realized with satisfaction. If he could swim half a klick, he'd teach himself to run that far as well. He pulled himself out of the pool and went back to check on the teams. One team was winding up their pool work for the day. Finding that Bob had finished his laps, they opted for a few trips across the width of the pool, trying to improve their ability to swim a long way underwater. One of the kids could already swim one width on a single breath. He surfaced at the other end, climbed out of the pool, and jumped back in, headed the other way. The rest of his team had less initial success, but seemed determined to learn to meet their objective.

A third team came in. Bob learned that they had been instructed by Amy yesterday and didn't need his assistance. They started their workout doing some laps. The team that had been doing widths left the pool area, headed elsewhere.

Bob found himself with no obvious duties. He slowly strolled around, watching the progress of the teams. He worked hard, mentally, not to pay attention to the naked, nubile young women he saw wherever he looked. Somehow, the strolling, or the mental self-flagellation he was delivering, or both, seemed to keep his dick aimed at the floor.

Heather met Mary and Shannon outdoors. The women were quite familiar with Double Dutch jump rope. Heather needed only to explain the boys' reluctance to participate at all, and their displeasure at being shown up by the girls. Heather suggested Mary and Shannon should have the teams work using only one jump rope if it was obvious that little progress would be made with two ropes.

Heather introduced them both to the balance beam. She had them try it out, opposing each other. The early iterations lasted only a few seconds, at most. As they continued, though, both gained some small measure of skill.

Heather described the ad-hoc measurements of a half-klick and a kilometer running courses. Heather suggested that the three of them ought at least to walk the course once. Finding no enthusiasm from either Mary or Shannon, Heather opted to do it herself. She decided first to see that the students were started successfully.

She didn't have to wait long. Two teams streamed outdoors, followed quickly by a third. One team headed for each station. Heather assured herself that the runners knew the two overlapping courses, and saw them off. The jumpers had been at that station yesterday and knew the ropes, so to speak. The balance beam kids likewise knew what to do.

As the two women were out of each other's earshot, Heather approached one and then the other with the suggestion that one of them should spell Bob at the pool during the second session and the other for the third. Shannon unwittingly volunteered herself to be the first victim. Heather promised to explain further during the latter part of the first session.

Her traps laid, Heather walked out to the football field. She was quite young, but childbirth and a sedentary lifestyle had led to unwanted weight and less-than-optimal body tone. She decided that being involved in the Program, even if only as a proctor, was a perfect opportunity for her to regain at least some measure of fitness. She was a realist, however, and she conceded to herself that a slow start, successfully completed, would be a more powerful incentive for repeat efforts. She opted for the half-klick distance and set out at a trot.

By 9:30, Mary and Shannon seemed very comfortable proctoring the students. Teams had come and gone. There were teams at all three stations, cheerfully but rigorously working. Heather drew Shannon out of the students' earshot to spring the trap.

"WHAT?!?" screamed Shannon. Every face in the area instantly turned to look. "I can't do that!" Mary moved quickly to join them.

"Shannon," the younger Heather explained, "it is an essential part of the training regimen for the kids. Think about it: the kids don't need to know how to Double Dutch jump rope for the Confederacy. They don't need to swim a relay, or do back flips, or anything else they're learning. What they need, is maturity, and confidence, instant obedience in the face of danger or adversity, humility and, not least, pride. The forced nudity is essential to that training. The students have gone along with it, but trust and respect are a two-way street. You know, what's good for the goose is good for the gander? You and Mary are the only two proctors who haven't done a tour of the pool."

"What are you talking about?" Mary squeaked.

Shannon turned to Mary. "Heather says the dress code in the pool area *isn't*. She says we have to be down there *naked*."

Mary was at least as horrified as Shannon was. "No way!" she screeched.

"Shannon, Mary," Heather soothed, "not 'naked'. There is a difference being naked and being nude. Both of you are attractive, more attractive than me. It's a new world we're about to enter. The rules are all different. In a year, you'll both probably be radiantly beautiful expectant mothers. I have already worked at the pool. I was embarrassed to begin with, but I got over it quickly. It proved to be the incentive I've needed for a long time to get my body back to where I'm proud of myself. Did you see me run a half-kilometer?

"This is where the rubber meets the road, so to speak. You're both veteran teachers. Now is the time for you to accept your assignment, hold your head up high, and execute it perfectly. The students will take more cues from your body language than from your words.

"The first five minutes or so are the worst, or they were for me. After that, I got used to it. I even began to feel liberated and motivated to do more for myself and for the students. By the end of the day yesterday, some of the boys and I were even heckling each other, jokingly and with respect, about various of our body parts. They were nice enough not to remark on my big tits or that I have more tummy than I wish. You'll do fine, Shannon. Mary, you have a couple of hours to brood over it, but you'll be fine as well.

"Shannon, you can either get into the locker room just before the crush of students, or wait and change with them. Half of them will be nude anyway, in and out of the showers. Undress, take a brief shower, and go down to the pool. Bob will meet you there, in all his naked glory, to help you."