(MF, Mg, Mf, Ff inc, MFf, anal)
(this is one of Puppy's stories)
Introduction
When I was a young man, I joined a volunteer organization. It was similar to the Peace Corp, but didn't require a college degree so I was able to go, right out of high school. At the age of 19, 20, 21, I was taught some languages and skills, and was dispatched to aid in rural development in three different countries: the Philippines, Cambodia, and Sri Lanka. My success with the languages, and with assisting development, was not so great. I did better at teaching English, and getting into the pants of my students, particularly young women the same age as myself. To them, I was interesting: the wealthy, exotic American. Perhaps also the young women felt safe to have a fling, because I they knew when I was leaving. Our flirtation had a built-in time limit.
I came back to the US, and got a job as a computer programmer. I did well, and my parents were happy that I had a good-paying job and a steady girlfriend. My sex drive was high, and so was hers. She wanted to get married. I wasn't sure, but I gave in. As soon as we were married, the sex stopped. She basically spent all our money, and I was left frustrated and lonely. The divorce was messy.
A few years later, my job paid even better, and women were drawn to me by my six-figure income. It was always the same: uninhibited, enthusiastic sex at the beginning of the relationship, tapering off to less and less the more secure they felt. I got married once more (this time with a crystal-clear prenuptial) and it happened again, the sex died when she realized I was bound by commitment. Again, divorce.
I now found myself with a big salary, a house, and a lot of money in savings. I could even work from home, and set my own hours. But there was no sex in my life. I tried some expensive call girls, but I found the experience depressing. They accommodated my sexual needs, but there was no enthusiasm. Asking for a special favor, like anal sex, got terribly expensive. It just didn't feel right.
I found myself daydreaming about my youth, my wild times in faraway countries. I decided to visit them again.
Philippines
After making all the arrangements, I flew into Manila then took a smaller plane down to Iloilo on the island of Panay. I checked into the best hotel in the city, a rather modest place, then rented a car with a driver to take me north. We rolled out of the city and through endless fields of sugarcane until I found the village. Despite 15 years of absence, I recognized it well. The village was still shabby, the people still very poor. My volunteer work may have helped these people a little. Perhaps a battle was won, but the war was still lost.
Her name was Gloria. I inquired, via my driver-interpreter, until I found her, tending the garden next to her family's house, really just a series of shacks. When she saw me, she just stared for a minute. Then we sat together, by the edge of the field, and she poured out her story, thankfully in her well-remembered English. She told me that she had been married, but her husband had left her, and she had to move back with her family. She had applied for jobs in Iloilo, hoping to use her English skills to rise out of poverty, but nobody had hired her.
I knew she was the same age as me, 34, and she looked attractive, despite her farm clothes and the poverty of her surroundings. I told her I was happy to see her, and asked if she would come to the city with me, to see it again, together, like old times. She agreed, running to the house to grab some things, and shouting in her local language to her family. I didn't recognize any English or even Tagalog, and my memory was fuzzy on her island's language.
Our driver got us back to the city by dusk. She talked the whole way.
In my hotel room, I showered and changed, and then waited while she showered and dressed, respecting her privacy. We went out for dinner, and I told her about my job, my house, my financial success. She told me about her struggles, her family's problems. Then we returned to the hotel room. She seemed really happy to be with me, and started kissing me as soon as we were in the room. I sat her down and looked into her eyes.
"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" I asked.
"Yes I do." She looked apprehensive. "Do you remember, how it was with us, when we were young?"
"I remember." I remember sneaking off with her, two foolish 19-year-olds, hiding from her family, in the room of a the house of her best friend, getting to very heavy petting on our first time, then going all the way on our second time. I had been scared of getting her pregnant, and not prepared enough to have a condom, I had pulled out before coming in her.
"Do you think you might ... want to be with me again?"
"Yes. I think I do."
"I'm scared you won't want me. I was with another man, and I'm old now."
"And I've been with other women, and I'm the same age as you are." I reassured. "Who know, maybe we will fall in love again. Maybe I will move to the Philippines and be with you."
She just beamed at me, turning the idea over in her mind, then she leaned forward and kissed me.
I slipped my tongue into her mouth. She sucked it.
I removed her clothes. She helped me.
I played with her nipples, and sucked them. She smiled.
I explored her pussy with my fingers. She spread her legs to give access.
I undressed and led her hand to my cock. She stroked it.
I put my cock in her mouth. She sucked it.
I came in her mouth. She made a face, turned her head, and spit.
I rolled on a condom, and fucked her. She let me.
We fell asleep together in the bed. In the morning, I got a blow-job, then we went shopping. I bought her nice clothes, presents for her family.
We ate together, with what passes for good food in Iloilo. I must admit, Filipino food has never grown on me. Back at my hotel room in the evening, I started to undress her. That's when it all came crashing down.
"We should wait until we are married." She pushed my hands away.
"I've been married twice." I said. "It didn't work out well."
"But I am a Catholic." she insisted.
We stared at each other, the realization setting in.
"This is not going to work." I said.
"Look, I want to be with you." she said softly. "It would be a much better life for me. But I have my culture, my family, my religion."
I just nodded.
We slept in the same bed, but separately. The next morning, I arranged for a driver to take her, all her new clothes and presents, home to her village.
I stayed in Iloilo for a few more days, making visa arrangements and buying airplane tickets. I had to wait a few more days for my flight, so I hired a prostitute that looked fairly good and spoke some English, and spent those days banging her, working out my frustration with Gloria.
Cambodia
The streets of Phnom Penh were as noisy and dirty and chaotic as I remembered, perhaps more so. I did see some signs of improvement, the city's better neighborhoods were being restored. There were signs that both rich and poor lived in the city now, instead of just poor. When I told my hotel about where I wanted to go, they tried to talk me out of it, telling me again about land mines, trying to send me to the tourist sites instead. I knew all about land mines from my time here before, the maimed, the horror stories. Finally I got a driver/interpreter who would take me there.
My grasp of the Khmer language had faded away to nothing, so I was completely dependent on my guide to find the village I had stayed at, and the woman I had known as a teenager, Chenda. It wasn't easy. Asking around in her village, we finally found her. She was living in the house of her brother, basically as a domestic servant, in circumstances even more dire than Gloria in the Philippines. The family was clearly very poor, even by Cambodian standards. She walked out and came up to my car, in a peasant dress. I recognized her, even with 14 years gone by. She just stared at first, just as Gloria had. Then her English came out, rusty with disuse.
"Why... you here?"
"I wanted to visit you." I explained. "To see you again."
She stared some more, pondering this turn of events, unbelievable to her.
"You... went away."
"Yes. My volunteer time ended, I had to go home. You remember."
"Yes. Very sad." Her face started to soften. "You left me."
I got out of the car and took a walk with her. I told her about my failed marriages. She told me her sad story. I was supposed to have helped her village learn to use a more modern fertilizer on their rice paddies. But after I left, they could not afford it. Chenda had gotten married, but her husband had died, and then both her parents. She was forced to move in with her brother's family, who did not like her. She had a daughter from her marriage, now 13 years old.
"Her name Chanmony." she said proudly. "It mean ... light of the moon."
I nodded, and took her hand in mine. I looked into her eyes. She was really quite pretty, despite the hard years. I remembered our time together, how she had snuck into my room at night, and let me touch her body in any way I wanted, how she had come back night after night, never initiating anything, just accepting my physical attention, passively. I realized now that she had been in love with me, and letting me have sex with her was her way of expressing it.
"Would you come away with me?" I asked. "Come stay with me, in Phnom Penh, for a while."
She stared. "My brother, he will be angry. He beat me."
I shook my head sadly. "If you want, you will never have to come back to this place."
She stared at me, not sure she understood. She looked as if she might cry. Then she rapidly nodded.
"Let's leave before he comes back." I encouraged.
"And... what about Chanmony?" she asked.
"Of course, she can come with us."
I leaned in to kiss her. She looked at me with surprise, as if unaccustomed to the gesture, nervously looking about to make sure nobody was watching, then she kissed back. He lips felt soft. She was trembling slightly.
Back at the house, she ran in and rummaged together her few belongings. She came out carrying them, and leading a girl by the hand. The girl was small, with a peasant dress like her mother's, a look of confusion on her face. Chenda was chattering away excited in Khmer. We got the car loaded up, and we were out of there in a flash, back to the edge of Phnom Penh, to my hotel. I spoke with the hotel to change to a double room, then I helped to carry Chenda's things up to our room.
We settled in, me in one room, Chenda and her daughter in the other. After much washing up, we went downstairs to the restaurant in the hotel. We had our first meal together. The restaurant was almost empty, so our conversation was private. I soon learned that Chanmony spoke even less English than her mother, that she had barely any schooling. She was clearly a bright child though, once she got over her shyness in front of me, speaking rapid Khmer to her mother and trying out her few English phrases on me. Chenda told me more about her troubled life, her husband, and the tragedies. How her grasp of English had not helped her.
After dinner, we settled into our separate rooms for the evening.
I was laying in my bed, thinking. I didn't want to scare Chenda, or promise anything I couldn't provide. With a little money, I could set her up with her own place, so that she wouldn't have to go back to her village. But I wanted to tell her I still liked her, was still attracted to her. That maybe we could be together, and not get married. I was uncertain how to deal with it.
I opened my eyes and found Chenda by my bedside. The room was dark, with some city light filtering in the window, illuminating her. She was completely nude, and beautiful.
I reached out my hand, and she stepped forward and took it.
"Do you still ... want me?" she said.
I smiled. "I do."
She crawled into my bed. Memories came back to me, of her sneaking into my bed, two foolish 20-year-olds, risking the disapproval of her family. We hugged and kissed under the blanket. Eagerly, I ran my hands over her body. It felt wonderful. I sniffed her hair, and she smelled nice. Her modest breasts felt great in my hands.
Within minutes, I had a condom on, and we were fucking energetically.
I didn't last long in her pussy. I carefully removed the condom, then went in the bathroom to wash the taste of latex off my cock, before returning to bed. She accepted my cock in her mouth, sucking it rhythmically. There was no skill to her sucking, but it was beautiful to see her face, in the dim light, bobbing on the head of my cock. I didn't finish in her mouth, instead slipping on another condom and fucking her missionary, fucking her sideway, fucking her doggy, until finally coming in her pussy for the second time. We fell asleep in each other's arms.
The next day, I awoke to an empty bed. Chenda was in the other room, with her daughter. I knocked, and they came into the room, their clothes looking freshly scrubbed. They were both smiling.
I went out shopping with them, for clothes, and anything else they wanted. I picked up a translation dictionary, and Chenda found some language-learning books for Chanmony. We went back to the hotel, and they spent two hours trying on their new clothes, and grooming, and makeup. They came out to show me, and I whistled with appreciation. Sitting down together, we spent some fun time together, refreshing Chenda's English, and both of them trying to refresh my long-forgotten Khmer.
Then we went to dinner, went up to my room, talked and laughed some more, then put Chanmony to bed.
Chenda and I pulled off each other's clothes and went at it. She was fairly passive as usual, but she did make some nice moans when I found the right rhythm. I played with her clit as I thrust, and I think she had a small orgasm, before I came in her the first time. I washed off my cock, put it in her mouth, and she did her best to suck me. With her mouth alone, it wasn't going to get me over the edge, so I showed her how to stroke the shaft as she sucked the head, using her other hand to play with my balls. She applied this technique energetically, and it worked, getting me to fill her mouth with my cum, which she swallowed with no complaint.
We lay together in bed afterwards, just touching each other's bodies, kissing. My fingers found their way to her pussy, exploring and teasing it gently. I knew I probably wouldn't come a third time, unless...
My finger, wet with her juices, dipped lower, slipping over her rosebud.
"Have you had anal sex?" I asked.
"Anal?"
"A man's cock, in your ass." I indicated what I meant, by slipping the slippery tip of my finger through her sphincter.
"No." In the dim light, I could see the surprise on her face. "You... want to...?"
"It would be very sexy for me."
"You can do it." she declared resolutely.
I kissed her, then got out of bed and rummaged around in my suitcase for lubricant. Back in bed, I licked her clit for the first time, as I fingered her ass with lubed fingers. She slowly got the hang of relaxing, to let me in. When she was relaxed enough, I put a pillow under hips and spread her legs, wanting to make her first time as comfortable as possible. I put on a condom, lubed it heavily, and looked down at her. This beautiful Cambodian woman, legs spread, looking up at me expectedly, offering me her anal virginity.
After about five minutes of gradual work, I got myself all the way into her ass, then fucked it vigorously, lasting only a few minutes more until I came. I held her and kissed her as my cock gradually softened, then we pulled apart and fell asleep.
The next day, I starting making plans for a longer stay in Cambodia. With the help of Chenda and the hotel staff, I located a private house to rent, on the outskirts of the city, in a relatively good neighborhood. Within two days, the necessary hands were shaken, the necessary bribes paid, and we were in the house. There were three bedrooms, and Chanmony was delighted. Having her own room seemed like some insane luxury.
It took about a week to settle in. They shopped. Chenda insisted on cooking. We found a school that would accept Chanmony, with only a modest bribe to admit her. Each night, and sometimes during the day, Chenda would willingly accept my sexual attention. She would suck my cock at a moment's notice, or let me bend her over any piece of furniture to fuck her pussy from behind. I found that I loved to interrupt her in the middle of household chores, like cooking. She would laugh and warn me about burning the food, but she'd also push her hips back helpfully as I fucked her. It was very helpful that she never wore a bra or panties. From time to time I would do her ass. She never said no, to anything.
Another week went by. Chenda went to a clinic, and came back with a clean bill. I stopped using a condom with her unless I was going to come in her pussy. I plugged in my laptop, and started the long process of trying to get a phone line and internet without paying a huge sum or too many bribes, dealing with the language barrier. It was frustrating.
It was also frustrating that Chenda's English was limited. I wanted to have deep conversations with her, but just couldn't. I sensed that she was frustrated too, with my uselessly tiny grasp of Khmer.
Sometimes, sex started to feel mechanical. There was something unsettling about the neutral look on her face, whether I was coming in her mouth or had my cock up her ass. Was she doing it for love? Or for the prosperity and comfort I had brought to her life? I had to ask myself, which did I want it to be? I didn't know. How much did it matter to me that she enjoyed the sex?
One time, Chanmony walked in on us. It was after dinner, I assumed her daughter was playing or studying in her room. I was feeling frisky, and lay back on the bed, telling Chenda to strip and climb on. She was rocking up and down my cock, her small tits bouncing pleasantly, when the door opened and Chanmony stepped into the room.
Chenda looked over, glanced at her daughter, smiled at her, then looked back at me. She never stopped fucking me.
My mind carefully considered the situation. Chenda was being casual about it. Chanmony stood and stared, fascinated, looking at our naked bodies moving together. I thought of her as a child, but she was 13, soon 14. Chenda had told me that her daughter was already having her period, and she called Chanmony a "young woman" not a "girl".
"She's watching us." I said.
"Yes." said Chenda casually. "She watching us. She learn. About sex." She turned and spoke in Khmer, and Chanmony moved closer. Her eyes were glued to us. My cock throbbed. There was something very perverted about this situation, at least by my cultural mindset. Daughters don't usually learn about sex by watching their naked mothers fucking - in this case, riding a cock in the cowgirl position.
"I'm going to come." I said. "Stop, I can't come in you." We were fucking without a condom.
"Yes." said Chenda, climbing off. To my surprise, she grabbed my erect cock in her hand, and stroked it quickly. Chanmony stepped even closer, right next to the bed. I groaned, and came, my cum spurting out of me. Chenda waited until after the first spurt, then she captured the head of my cock in her mouth, and swallowed the rest.
Turning to her daughter, she picked up some of my cum with her fingers, and showed it to her, speaking rapid-fire Khmer.
Chanmony nodded, then she turned and left the room.
"That, um, you ..." I sputtered. "Are you sure, you should show her sex?" I almost added She's only 13, but then I realized that age didn't have much to do with it. Any age didn't seem like a rational time for a mother to give her daughter a live sex demonstration. At least, it seemed that way to me.
"Is it OK?" she looked at me, puzzled. "For her to watch us, learn?"
I struggled with my reactions. What did I really think? Sure, it was strange. But how did I really feel about it? To be so sexually uninhibited ... I realized, it was sexy.
"Yes, it's OK."
"Good." She smiled at me, sucked the last few drops out of my cock, then lay down beside me. "Chanmony, she is a woman now. You like her, she is pretty?"
I thought about it. She was pretty. Her face was cute, and she did have the bumps and curves of a young lady, not a girl. Nearly 13, I reminded myself. I had been filing my thoughts about Chanmony under "inappropriate". But what Chenda said, she couldn't mean .. could she?
"She's very pretty." I agreed. "But she's young. In my culture, girls don't learn about sex at that age." Was that true? I clarified. "I mean, we have sex education in school at that age. But they don't see what sex looks like."
"If they don't see, how can they learn?"
I laughed. "I don't know."
That was the end of the discussion. We fell back into our routine, and the next couple days, nothing changed around the house, except that I noticed Chanmony more, and she noticed me. She wore more revealing clothes. She seemed to be flirting with me, shyly, unsure of herself.
A day later, as we were getting ready for bed, Chenda told me that her period had come, and she should sleep in another bed.
"That's OK." I said. "Sleep wherever you like. Either way is fine with me."
She looked worried. "You .. you want sex, with me?"
"No, that's OK. You don't have to give me sex anytime I want, if it's not convenient for you."
She looked at me, understanding the words but not the sentiment. "You want sex?"
I sighed. "Really, it's OK. Actually, if you want, you could suck me. You can do that even on your period, right?"
She smiled. "Yes!" Then she bent to her task. Her oral sex skills had improved greatly with practice, learning what I liked, learning to take me deeper and faster in her mouth. I grabbed her hair and thrust along, and it only took a few minutes for me to give her a mouthful of cum.
She swallowed, kissed my cheek, then left the room. I turned off the bedside light, and in my post-orgasmic haze, I must have dozed off for a minute.
I was woken by the feeling of the covers being pulled back, then a shape moving on the bed. I opened my eyes. The room was dark, with only the dim glow of the nightlight in the hallway. There was a shape above me, silhouetted, a girl's body. Still half-asleep, I realized it was Chanmony. She was naked, her soft thighs straddling my hips.
I didn't say a word, and neither did she.
Her hands came down and found my soft cock, grasping it, feeling it. It started to harden.
My mind wrestled. Part of me thought, This is a child. My girlfriend's daughter. Another part thought She's a young woman. Her mother wants her to learn. I turned it over and over. Why was she doing this? Was it her idea? Did her mother tell her to come to my bed? Chenda wanted to keep me in her life. Was giving me her daughter part of that plan? Should I really do it?
During my indecision, my cock decided for me. It became hard as a rock in her small hands. Chanmony raised herself up and I felt the head of my cock nestled against soft, tender flesh. There was a motion, I burst through, and I was inside her.
I stayed conflicted, all the way through it, as she rocked her hips on me, imitating what she had seen her mother do. Part of me screamed This must be wrong! and another part said Virgin pussy, awesome, damn she's tight! The battle in my head got even more pronounced when I heard her breathing. It sounded a little like crying. There was no way this was comfortable for her.
Very gently, I reached and touched her body and said "Stop." She stopped. I rolled her off my body, onto the bed. She lay there, passively. I kissed her, the first time I had kissed her on the lips. My hands touched her body for the first time, feeling her young tits. I kissed my way down her body. She was no longer crying. I reached her young pussy, and although I couldn't see much in the darkness, I could feel every fold, every bit of tender softness, as I traced it with my fingers, my tongue. I wet her small slit, seeking her clit. She made noises of surprise and said something in Khmer I didn't understand, but when I began to give her real, gentle oral sex, she made noises of unmistakable pleasure.
The sounds of orgasm are universal, needing no translation. When she came, I wrestled again with myself. Send her out of the room, ending her first sexual experience on a good note? Or do what I was dying to do, slip back into her young pussy and finish what she started?
She was wet and lubricated now, I rationalized, as I slid into her, missionary position. Then my rational mind shut down as I fucked her, my arms around her small body, my lips kissing hers, my hips on autopilot, fucking the precious 13-year-old virginal Cambodian girl with abandon. My rational mind only came back, right before I was about to come inside her, pointing out that I could, in theory, get her pregnant, and this was not a good idea. I pulled out just seconds before coming, my cum pooling on her belly. We were both breathing hard.
I kissed her once more, then rolled her over and patted her butt, sending her off to her own bed.
I woke up the next morning, alone in my bed. I went through my morning habits, seeing Chenda making breakfast in the kitchen. When I was showered and shaved and ready to face reality, I went into the dining room. Chanmony sat at the table, nibbling at the rice and fish her mother had prepared. I sat down next to her. Chenda brought me my cup of coffee, then sat down with us.
"Did you enjoy, last night?" asked Chenda as I sipped.
I looked from her face, over to her daughters. Chenda's expression was relaxed, casual, perhaps a little hopeful.
I thought for a while. "Maybe we shouldn't have done that."
"You are not happy?" Now she looked worried.
It slowly dawned on me, the degree of power I held. It was humbling. It was terrifying. And, for a dark part of me, arousing. I realized that sexually, Chenda would say yes to anything. Apparently, that extended to her daughter as well.
I stewed over it as I sipped my coffee. I wanted to say, you don't have to give me your daughter. I wanted to say, she's too young. I wanted to say, I'm happy with you, just the way you are.
Instead, I said, "I'm happy. But, I don't feel comfortable doing things with her, if you aren't there."
She smiled again. "OK, I watch."
I finished my coffee, and nibbled at the food. Chanmony finished her breakfast, and looked at us expectedly. I stood up, taking the girl's hand, and led her to the bedroom. Chenda followed close behind. Standing, I embraced Chanmony, kissing her, undressing her. She was short, her mouth right at the level of my nipples. I got my first good look at her naked. Her small body was gorgeous in the morning light. I caressed her, while her mother watched silently. I lifted Chanmony onto the bed, removed my own clothes, and climbed in with her, trailing kisses down her body. I reached her pussy, and gently probed it with my tongue. As I moved into eating her pussy properly, her mother moved to sit next to us on the bed. She held her daughter's hand. I lifted my mouth.
"You would do any sexual for me, anything at all?"
Chenda nodded her head. "Yes."
My mind formed the words I was about to say, my rational mind protesting, my libido cheering.
"Would you kiss your daughter, like a lover?"
She didn't even pause. "Yes, I would do that."
"Show me."
Chenda, still fully clothed, leaned down and kissed her daughter. Their soft lips met, tentatively at first, then a full kiss. My cock throbbed at the sight. She raised her head and looked at me, smiling, expectedly.
"Would you suck on your daughter's nipples?"
"Yes." She moved her lips down and sucked each of the tiny nips. I went back to eating pussy, and for a minute I just licked at watched, as Chenda moved back and forth between Chanmony's mouth and tits. The girl wiggled and murmured under the combined attention. I raised my head.
"Would you lick your own daughter's pussy?"
She didn't smile. "Yes, I would do that."
My mind reeled. Was I pushing it too far? Would she resent me later? How twisted was my desire to find Chenda's limits? Maybe it was time to stop. I'd confirmed that she'd do it, and that was arousing enough. Or was it? I found myself giving in to dark curiosity.
"Show me."
I sat back as Chenda moved into position, and with no hesitation at all, starting right in where I had left off, her tongue running along the length of her daughter's slit, then settling in and finding the clit, sucking it into her mouth. I watched, my jaw almost hanging in amazement. And my cock throbbed, painfully hard.
I watched, and waited, caressing Chanmony's slender little body as she enjoyed the attention. It took five minutes before the girl orgasmed, wetting her mother's tongue.
"Did I do it right?" asked Chenda, lifting her head and looking up at me.
"You did great." I reassured. "Now, teach your daughter to suck my cock."
That night, I sat alone on the porch, the tropical heat hanging in the night air, and I made a decision.
What I was doing to these two women was wrong. It was the basest form of exploitation, taking advantage of them. They wanted to better their situation, an escape from their life of hard work and crushing poverty and abusive family. I was their shining knight. My perverted requests were just obeyed, blindly.
But wasn't that what I wanted? Hadn't I felt powerless in my relationships back in the US, powerless despite my financial success? Here I was powerful, in the home domain. Shouldn't I be happy?
But I wasn't. Partly, I just wasn't happy with Cambodia in general and Phnom Penh in particular. The heat, the noise and pollution of the city, the impenetrable language, the bribes, the bureaucracy. Making a life here would not be fun or easy. Even with two attractive sexual servants in my household. And emotionally, my connection with Chenda had already been slipping away. I wasn't in love with her, and her love for me was indistinguishable from servitude.
I made the decision to leave. But I did care for Chenda and her daughter, so I would take care of them.
It took two weeks to set everything in motion. The house we were living in, I bought, and gave it to Chenda. I made the arrangements for Chanmony to join a better school, when their next term began. I set up an account to pay for their modest living expenses.
I arranged my visa and bought my airplane tickets for my next destination.
I told Chenda exactly what I was doing. She looked sad, but relieved that she and her daughter would be taken care of. I probably should have left them alone, sexually, now that I was leaving.
I didn't.
My dark desires couldn't let go of the opportunity. I had them both sleeping in my bed. I gently fucked Chanmony's young pussy, getting her used to my cock, while her mother watched or assisted. I fucked Chenda hard, while her daughter watched. Chanmony learned the taste of my cum, whether I shot it into her small mouth, or she licked it up from her mother's tits, or she shared it with her mother in a kiss.
There were some lines I did not cross. I did not go anywhere near Chanmony's tiny ass, nor did I ever make her eat her mother's pussy. I did love to watch them kiss and suck each other's tits, though. It always got me ready to fuck one or both of them.
Finally, the day came to say goodbye. That morning, I indulged in one last sexual workout, starting with double blowjob, coming in both their mouths, watching them make out, watching Chenda eat her daughter's pussy, fucking that little pussy in several positions. Coming inside Chanmony, watching Chenda drink my cum out of her daughter's pussy, then finally, fondling and kissing Chanmony as her mother rode me, my cock up her ass, draining my last drop. Then I washed, dressed, gave both of them a long kiss goodbye, and went with my suitcase to the airport.
Sri Lanka
Arriving in the capital, Colombo, I went straight to a hotel room and collapsed. I was dead tired from the long flight, and sexually and emotionally drained from leaving Cambodia. I spent a couple days in my room, thinking, looking out the window, ordering room service. My conscience was greatly relieved to be away from that situation, the disturbing impression I was exploiting helpless women. My dark desires, on the other hand, growled and complained at what I had given up, the feeling of their soft submissive bodies still fresh in my memory.
I intended to stick to my plan, to visit each of my lovers from my youth. There were actually two ex-girlfriends in Sri Lanka, from the whole year I spent here. But now, I was wary of what I might find. Maybe they had succeeded in life, or they were happy with their poverty. Maybe they would have no interest in me, or even have forgotten me. Or maybe they would be desperate, like Chenda had been, and then I would face the dark temptation to exploit the situation.
I went out to the village, and looked up my first girlfriend's name. Here in Sri Lanka, English was far more widely spoken, as a second language by educated people, but I still needed my driver to translate a bit into Sinhalese to find what I was looking for. The first woman, I did not find; I found her family. They were baffled by some long-ago American friend showing up unannounced, but agreeably told me that she was happily married with three children, living in another city.
Next on my list was a woman named Anishka. Thirteen years before, when we were both 21, I had helped her with her English, we had dated, and we managed to sneak away from our job and school to rendezvous. I only had full sex with her once, I remembered, but it was tender young love. I had almost considered staying in Sri Lanka after my term there ended. I hoped she had done well.
Asking around in her village, I learned that her life had not gone well. Anishka had been married and bore two children, but her husband was enlisted in the army and was killed in an attack by the Tamil Tigers in the north. Her family was too poor to support her, and she could not find work with two children to care for, so she remained living with her husband's family. I got part of the story when my driver and I located her aging aunt, and the rest of the story when I found Anishka herself.
She looked very different, still pretty, but heavier and with a mature bearing. Her English was as good as ever, and she greeted me warmly, taking only a second to remember me. She wore a colorful sari, standing outside her adoptive family's home. We took a walk together, down a quiet shady street, and she told me in a soft melodic voice, in pleasantly accented English, about her life, her husband, her troubles, his death, her children, and her current family. She told me they disliked her, and she bore the brunt of every household disagreement. She was completely dependent on them financially. She tried to earn a little as an English tutor, but only a few poor people from her village would hire her, and she couldn't take the time away from raising her children. She was forced to live with her children in a tiny room, really just a shack, connected to the family's house, and walk a long distance each day for water.
"At least they are in school." she said. "But it is a very bad school. I worry about them. I don't think they are learning."
"Will you come with me, for a day?" I asked. "To Colombo."
"Why, are you asking me on a date?" she said, her eyes laughing at me.
I felt a lot of old emotions stirring up. "Yes."
"In that case, I accept. My children will be alright here for a day."
In my hired car, on the way back to the city, we talked the whole way, catching up. I was reminded of our time together. I was supposed to help provide a pump for a well in her village. The village accepted the pump, but their engineering skills were far greater than my meager training. Mostly, they wanted me to improve their English, to give them an American accent. Anishka and I laughed about our time together in our youth, and traded stories of our respective lives. Her eyes kept meeting mine, a smile on her face. It was as if our old connection had never died. By the time we arrived in the city, and had a meal, she was more than happy to come to my hotel with me. Inside, I was happy and excited. Her full figure was captivating, her smile, her laugh, the way her body moved.
There can be so much more to sex than inserting tab A into slot B. Talking with Anishka in my hotel room, sitting together and looking out the window, holding hands, then kissing, then slowly undressing ... it was something we both wanted, something that felt right, something long overdue. I just barely managed to remember to put on a condom. We found each other's rhythm almost effortlessly, and she orgasmed, once, strongly, setting off my own.
Lying there, panting, our sweaty bodies next to each other, we kissed again.
"Thank you." I said, dreamily.
"Perhaps I should be thanking you." She paused, looking at me carefully. "But tell me truly, why have you returned to Sri Lanka? What do you truly want from me?"
That's when I started my whole story over again, leaving in the failed marriages, the sexual frustration. I told her about Gloria, in the Philippines. I told her about Chenda and her daughter, with every single sordid detail. Anishka looked at me seriously, letting my words come spilling out, listening carefully.
"So, let me see if I understand." she said as I finally finished. "You were feeling sexually frustrated, in your life in America. You married, but did not get what you wanted from the marriage."
"Yes."
"And you daydreamed about your youthful affairs, and wanted to live them again, so you traveled to these women, and to me, to see if you could find that spark in your life again, that sense of sexual adventure."
"Yes."
"And it seems your travels were a success. You found that woman in Cambodia, she was desperate, and all your sexual fantasies were fulfilled. She was willing to do anything for you, and you had her daughter also. So I don't understand. You wanted that kind of power, and you found it. Why did you leave her?"
I sat and thought for a while. "I found that kind of power frightening. Because I could command her to do things, and I would never know if she resented me or not. Maybe she hated doing those sexual things. Maybe she simply did them because she had to. I don't think she ever decided to. It was too much like prostitution. Even though I did care for her." I paused. "But I think what really bothered me, is that we could not communicate. She is not an intellectual like you, Anishka. She is simple, and her country is a disaster, and I just couldn't see a future there."
Anishka nodded, then she smiled. "My sweetness, you should have come to me first."
I stared. "What do you mean?"
"You should have come to me, come to Sri Lanka. We are a civilized country, and you would have found me a far better match for your needs, than either of those women."
"Really?"
"Yes, my sweetness! What you were proposing is a contract, an exchange. She is a woman in desperate need. You provide security, food, health, a good house, education for the children. And in return you get to indulge all your sexual fantasies. This is not such a bad deal. There are many women that would accept it. Especially if she is a woman like me, who truly enjoys sex."
"You do?"
"Yes. I feel that sex is a good thing. That woman in the Philippines did not think so. She was doing it only to win your attentions. And in Cambodia, the woman Chenda was doing it, perhaps doing something she didn't like to do, just to keep you. But if you proposed such a contract with me, I would accept it happily, not regretfully."
I shook my head. "But the things I asked her do .. they were perverted things. Having sex with her own daughter?"
Anishka laughed at me. "Oh, do you think that is so perverted? Really, that is nothing, it is just playing . My sweetness, what you call perverted is just a way of saying you feel guilty, that it is wrong. But do you really think it is wrong?"
"You mean incest?"
"I mean what you did with her. Joining her and her daughter, in bed. You did not force the girl, and you even made her feel good. They played with each other, and made each other feel good. Was that wrong?"
I looked at her in surprise. "I ... guess it wasn't that wrong."
"And it was very powerful for you, very sexy, to be with this woman and her child, wasn't it?"
"Yes it was. It was sexy and exciting because it was so perverted, in my mind. I loved it, even if I did feel guilty."
She ran her hand down my naked body, finding my half-hard cock, holding it in her hand. "Would it excite you, to be with me and my daughter? She is 14 years old now, she is definitely not a girl. I know she has had boyfriends, I know she is not a virgin." She felt my cock growing in her hand. "I see, it does excite you. What is more exciting, to have sex with my daughter, while I am with you, helping you? Or do you want to see me touch her, to make her feel good?" My cock was now hard, and she stroked it. "Tell me what perverted things you would want to do."
I sighed, my arousing raging, but my heart ached. "Anishka, you shouldn't say that. You shouldn't offer such things to me. I don't dare speak the perverted things I imagine."
"Offer me the contract." she said. "I would welcome it."
"What exactly would the contract mean?"
"It is quite simple. You move to Sri Lanka and find a good house. My children and I would come to live with you. You would buy us all the things we need, you would make our lives comfortable. The children could pursue their dreams, and attend the best schools. You would provide for us, a loving partner, never raising a hand to any of us. And in exchange..."
She stroked my cock, and kissed me.
"And in exchange?" I asked.
"In exchange, I would fulfill your every sexual desire, do anything sexual you ask of me, and I would very likely enjoy it. And so would my children."
I reached for the edge of the bed, finding another condom. She took it from me and rolled it onto my cock, then straddled me. I sank into the wetness of her pussy, and she rode me slowly.
"Every desire? No matter how perverted?"
"Every desire." she said, her voice thick with arousal, her pussy muscles squeezing my cock. "No matter how perverted you think it is."
"And would your children have a choice about this contract?"
"I would tell them, of course. And I think they would accept it also, if I tell them it is a good contract."
For a minute, the only sounds were our flesh slapping together, her gently moans, my gasping breath. She was doing most of the work, on top of me. My hips involuntarily thrust upwards to meet her, driving myself deeper into her pussy. She started to do a little wiggle with her hips each time she came down, and I realized it was stimulating her clit. Her moaning got stronger. Suddenly, she was coming. I gasped in surprise. Never in my life has a woman come from being on top of me.
Resting, she lowered her body to mine, her breasts resting on my chest, slightly wet with exertion. I held her head and kissed her lips. I was rock-hard inside her pussy.
"And you would let me come in your mouth?" I asked.
"Anything." she said. "Of course. Do you want me to taste you?"
"Yes, would you do it now?"
She lifted off my body and moved down the bed, bending over me, pulling the condom off my cock, and taking me in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around, her hand gripped my shaft, and she started into an excellent blowjob. I lasted barely a minute before coming. She was looking up at me, her eyes smiling, as I came in pulses, her throat rhythmically swallowing.
We fell asleep in each other's arms.
In the morning, I woke up first, to find her naked sleeping body next to mine. I looked at her face, and realized I felt happy. I pondered the contract we had talked about. All the sex I could ever ask for, with a woman I cared for, and cared for me. A woman who clearly and truly enjoyed sex, a woman who was seemed undisturbed by the idea of involving her teenage children in sex. And all I had to do was provide some material comforts that I could easily afford, my Yankee dollars going very far in Sri Lanka's economy. My cock started to get hard, my subconscious mind already thinking about the possibilities.
Anishka stirred in the bed next to me. I kissed her lips, and she woke up with a smile, kissing me back. She felt my hard cock pressing against her side, and she reached a soft hand down to hold it.
"Morning sex?" she asked.
"Yes. I believe I will accept the contract."
"That's good." We kissed again.
"But I do want to ask one more sexual favor, before I commit."
"Anything, my sweetness."
"Have you had anal sex?"
Her smile dimmed slightly. "I did it with my husband, a few times, many years ago. But it was not easy."
"I've got very good lubricant. Would you try it with me?"
She paused. "Yes. But be gentle."
In that hotel bed, with the soft morning light filtering through the curtains onto her body, I got my cock into Anishka's ass for the first time. I put on a condom, got my cock as slippery as possible and slowly, slowly worked it in. On her hands and knees, she reached under herself to touch her pussy. I coached her to take slow deep breaths, to relax. When I was all the way inside, I just stayed there, and she impressed me by bringing herself to a small orgasm by rubbing her clit. I thrust for barely a minute before her tight, inexperienced ass made me come hard.
We showered, dressed, and ordered breakfast from room service, which came in a bewildering array of small metal bowls, full of many things, all delicious.
"Now, it is your turn." she said. "It is time for you to prove your commitment to the contract. I will return to my village, my children. You will find a good house, and prepare for us. When you are ready, come and get us. I will look at your house, and decide if I want to enter the contract with you."
"Yes. I understand. I hope it works out."
"I also hope so."
We kissed goodbye, and I hired a car to take her home.
It took almost a month. I was pickier than I had been in Cambodia. I really wanted this to work, and found the best house I could afford, with a walled garden, privacy, several large rooms, recent construction, modern utilities, a good location close to the city, but far enough from the noise and pollution. I put down a deposit of money that enabled me to move in, with the option to change my mind and forfeit part of the deposit. I found doing business so much easier here than in Cambodia. The educated class, including most businessmen, spoke perfectly serviceable (if accented) English. There was still some haggling and bribes required, but at least I understood them better.
I hired an expensive car, a large Mercedes. I felt conspicuous, as we drove down bad roads, through areas of wretched poverty, but I knew I'd need the space. We found the village, arriving around noon. There was no telephone or any way to let Anishka know when I would arrive. So instead I parked a distance away, and walked up to her husband's family's disheveled housing. She met me at the door, her eyes wide with surprise and joy.
It took a few hours, for us to gather her things, load the car, drive and walk to her children's school, drive them back home, gather their belongings, and drive away.
When I first saw her daughter, Dayani, I was struck with her beauty. A bit prettier than her mother, and her face and body seemed more mature than her 14 years of age would suggest. My subconscious was already thinking about her in a sexual way, but I was modest and polite in person. She smiled at me and let me shake her hand. She wore more Western clothes than her mother, a dress instead of a sari. She greeted me in thickly accented English, in a pretty voice.
Picking up Anishka's son, Kithsiri, I noticed several things immediately. Although 13 years old, he looked much younger than his sister. He was also a shade darker than his mother, whereas Dayani was a shade lighter. They didn't actually have much in common in their faces. I would not have thought them brother and sister if I wasn't told. Kithsiri was shy, shaking my hand nervously.
On the drive, I talked mainly with Anishka, while the children sat quietly. I told her all about the house, answering all her questions. The driver deposited us at the house's entrance gate, unloading all of their possessions. I tipped him well, and he drove away. I opened the door and followed behind, as they walked in with gasps of amazement and bursts of Sinhalese mixed with the occasional English phrase.
The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Settling in, going out to buy food, exploring the garden, cooking and eating. The smiles were huge and non-stop. They marveled at each having their own room, the large soft beds.
At the end of day, Anishka and I found our way to the master bedroom, undressing and collapsing in bed, too tired to do anything but lie there.
"I accept." she said softly, as we lay next to each other.
"Thank you." I said, then we fell asleep.
Anishka woke me up in the morning, gently.
"Do you want some sex with me?" she asked, her hands on my naked body.
"No, there's so much to do today." I said, smiling at her. I pulled her to me for a kiss. "Save your energy."
"And my children, will you want to involve them in sex soon?"
I shook my head. "I really don't want to rush things. I want you to settle in and feel comfortable with your new life, your new home. Perhaps then, I'll collect my side of the contract."
She nodded. "You are very kind, my sweetness. Perhaps this morning, I could suck your lingam?"
I grinned. "Well OK, you talked me into it."
She pulled down the covers and took my half-hard cock in her mouth. With impressive skill, it took her only a few delicious minutes before I came in her mouth and she drank every drop.
The day was filled with errands, going out to buy clothes, things for the house. I simply handed wads of cash money to each of them, and let them go wild. Dayani, I learned, loved dancing and Bollywood movies. She came back with posters of Bollywood stars for the walls of her room. Kithsiri bought a pair of shoes which looked ordinary to me, but apparently was a big deal to him. Anishka spent a long time making phone calls to find a good school for them.
We had our meals together, in the house, Anishka and her daughter laughing together a great deal as they transformed the kitchen into a functional space.
That night, Anishka and I bathed together, then fell into bed and made soft, sweet love. Her slightly plump body felt great under mine as we fucked gently, kissing as we rocked. She came first, I sped up and came a minute later, and then we fell fast asleep.
The next few days were a blur. Gradually, we found our routine. I had sex with Anishka once during the day, then again each night. We might be in bed in the morning, or in the middle of the house, when the urge would strike me, and I would avail myself of her mouth or her pussy. It took me a while to learn how her sari fit on her body, so there was a bit of fumbling when I wanted to get my hands on her naked body, but happily there was little in the way of undergarments. I was pleased to find that when I initiated sex, she actively welcomed it, unlike my time with Chenda in Cambodia. In fact Anishka would even suggest things, like making love outside in the shade of the back porch by the garden, on the pillows. The heat outside made us sweat, our bodies slippery as we passionately fucked.
I was busy as well, trying to arrange for internet, and set up a home office for myself. Eventually I would need to continue my high-tech work, so I put a lot of energy into getting ready. I let my clients know of my new time zone.
We had been in the house for a week before I first asked for anal sex. Anishka's smile did not dim that time. She enthusiastically and willingly spread her ass cheeks for me, and took me with a little less difficulty than before, so that I was able to fuck her longer and really enjoy myself in her ass. From that time forward, ass-fucking was roughly a weekly occurrence, a special treat.
Like I had done in Cambodia, I asked Anishka to go to a clinic and get tested and set up with birth control. She happily complied, coming back with a clean slate. She let me know she had gone with Dayani, and both of them were now safe. She asked me pointedly about when I would involve her daughter in sex, and I just said I wanted to wait. There was so much changing in Dayani's life - a new school, new friends, new house, and a new father figure. Adding sex to that seemed too much.
Dayani proved to be a really sweet girl. While her brother was quiet and shy and kept to himself, Dayani was outgoing and friendly. She seemed to take a real liking to me. After a couple weeks, she asked me to help her with her studies. I couldn't follow some of the materials with the language barrier, but with the English materials I could help. It was nice to sit with her, at her desk, in her room. I loved the way she would smile at me as we worked. I started to notice her body, and there was some undeniable sexual tension building between us.
It was Dayani that finally raised the subject.
"I have to ask you a question." she said, in a quiet voice, as we sat together in her room.
"Sure, darling." I gazed into her pretty face.
"You're like a father to me. But I know about the contract."
I swallowed and nodded. "Your mother told you about it, right?"
"Yes, she explained every bit of it. I know it involves sex. And you and Mum have a lot of sex, I hear it every night."
"Yes." I was suddenly feeling embarrassed. Dayani listened to me fucking her mother?
"So, why haven't you done it with me?"
I paused. "I didn't want to rush you. I wanted to get to know you first, to see how I would feel about you, how you feel about me."
She nodded. "Maybe you would rather be like a father to me. Instead of having sex with me?"
"Is that what you would want?"
She appeared to think about it. "I never knew my father. I was a little girl when he died. I think I'm happy to have you in my life. But you never touch me, not even a hug or a kiss. Why is that?"
I sighed. "I haven't touched you, because I'm afraid of what it might lead to."
She smiled. "So, you're really attracted to me?"
"Yes I am. You are so beautiful. But you're only 14."
"But you did it with that other girl, and she was only 13."
My eyes went wide with surprise. "Your mother told you about that?"
"She told me everything. Really, I'm not the innocent girl you think I am." She pouted her lower lip at me.
I laughed. "I guess not."
For a minute we just looked at each other. My eyes roamed from her face down over the bumps of her breasts in her school shirt, her light-brown legs under her skirt.
"You could at least kiss me." she said.
I leaned in and kissed her. I felt an electric spark between us, as her young mouth opened to accept my tongue. We kissed, then my hands touched her body, and her hands touched mine. It was like a dam burst, weeks of sexual tension coming undone. We stood, embracing, kissing, right at her desk, awkwardly pulling off each other's clothes. Her breasts came into view, and I had never seen such perfection, creamy light skin, dark nipples. We drifted towards her bed, where we tumbled together, making out. I sucked her nipples, feeling her bare belly. She giggled and made soft noises of pleasure into my ear. My hand slid up her inner thigh, reaching between her legs. I encountered no panties, just a downy soft pussy. I paused, suddenly unsure of myself.
"Do you want me?" she said, feeling my fingers slip between her labia.
"Yes I do. Very much."
"Good, because I want you."
That gave me the encouragement I needed. I pulled her skirt off, spreading her legs, and took a good look at her young pussy as I explored it with my fingers. I was on the verge of mounting her, when I changed my mind and knelt down, licking her pussy instead.
"Oh!" she cried, looking down at me with surprise. It took a half minute of licking before her expression of surprise melted into a moan of lust and her head rolled back. In five minutes, she was coming. I waited until she stopped quivering, then moved up and kissed her, my mouth wet from her pussy.
"You... you didn't have to do that." she gasped.
"Your boyfriend never did that for you, did he?"
She shook her head. "Never."
I was lying on top of her, the head of my hard cock right at her pussy lips.
"If I do this, I can never be quite like a father to you." I said.
"I don't care." She pulled my face to hers and kissed me. "I want you to do it."
I pressed, slowly, carefully, into her pussy. She sighed, her eyes closing. Emboldened, I began to fuck her steadily. Her slim body felt so different than her mother's, her pussy different as well, the snug fit of a 14-year-old, instead of a 34-year-old mother of two. She didn't know what to do with her pussy muscles, but she didn't need to. I thrust away deliriously, enthralled by the novelty of her young body. And unlike Chanmony, this girl really wanted me, and responded to my thrusts with genuine pleasure.
"I... I don't think I can come in you?" I managed to gasp. "I don't want to get you pregnant."
"You can do it in me. I've been on the birth control pills long enough now."
I gripped her flawless young tits and sucked her nipples as I fucked her. I wanted the moment to last, but there was no way. It was too intense. I came hard, pulsing again and again, draining my balls in her tight pussy.
We lay together for a while, then I kissed her and got up, pulling on my loose pants, and went to my own bedroom. Anishka was there sitting at a desk, in her sari.
"So, you've finally done it." she said. Her voice was level, but she was smiling.
"Are the walls that thin?"
"I can just tell. I heard some quiet sounds, and I can imagine the rest. Did you make her feel good?"
I nodded.
"Mmm. Come here." I walked to her. She stood up from the desk and embraced me. We kissed. "Do you want to spend the night in her bed, instead of ours?"
I shrugged. "Do you think I should?"
"Yes, it's your first time with her, it would be sweet, I think."
"Alright." I turned to go.
"But wait, there is one thing I want to do." she interjected.
"Yes?" I turned back to her.
"One thing, you would probably say is perverted."
"Yes?"
She unzipped my pants and pushed them down. Sinking to her knees, she regarded my half-hard cock. She looked up at me.
"This was just inside my daughter?"
I just nodded, staring at her. Abruptly, she sucked my cock into her mouth. I gasped in amazement. She sucked and sucked, spending a minute sucking every bit of my cock clean. Then she stood back up and kissed me.
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
"I love my daughter. This is an important time for her. I want to feel close to her." She smiled. "And I wanted to show you, I am not scared of joining you and my daughter in sex. When you are ready. Now, you should get back to her."
I kissed her, pulled up my pants and went back to the door to Dayani's room. I knocked and announced myself. She told me to come in. I opened the door, and found her still naked, on top of her bed, her legs spread, one hand moving on her pussy.
"I touch myself like this when I think of you." she said, as I approached. "Come back into my bed?"
I did. Our bodies entangled, and we spent a dreamy hour exploring each other. I sucked on her nipples as she masturbated, I kissed her as she jacked my cock, I cuddled her body as I finger-fucked her. She insisted on trying to suck me, which she did quite well for such an inexperienced girl. I pulled her up and led her to settle her pussy down on my cock. Slowly, she got the hang of riding me. Watching her perfect tits jiggle as she bounced on my cock was too much. I was going to come again, and told her so.
"Mum says you do it in her mouth." she said, gently rocking her hips.
"I do." I admitted.
"Is that sexy for you?"
"Yes, it's very sexy."
"Do you want to do it in my mouth?"
I shook my head. "Darling, nothing could feel better than what you're doing to me, right now."
"Oh." She sped up. I went crazy, bucking my hips. I grabbed her, pulling her down onto me, impaling her deep. In a moment, I was coming inside her pussy.
We spent that night together, in her bed. I cuddled up against her body, surprisingly happy. It felt like something really important had just happened, a new door had opened in my life. Was I in love with Dayani, this girl less than half my age? Or was it just lust? My feeling for her mother were still strong, perhaps I loved both of them. I was grateful Anishka had accepted the contract, that had led to this moment of perfect happiness, with this young woman sleeping next to me.
In the morning, I hugged and kissed Dayani in bed, but I let her get up and go about her daily routine, going off to school with her brother. Stumbling out of her bed eventually, I found Anishka in the kitchen.
"You have a big smile on your face." she said when she saw me. "That is a good thing."
"Dayani and I ... " I mumbled, not sure how to say it. "It felt special."
"Of course it was special." she smiled mysteriously. "So now you have two lovers in this house. Or do you still want me, now that you have my daughter?"
I grinned at her. "Of course I still want you! In fact, I've got a hard-on from waking up next to her naked body. Would you come to bed with me and help me with it?"
"Of course. It is in the contract, I must obey." She laughed, following me. In a minute we were in the master bed, naked, fucking. I marveled at her plump body, the different feel of her pussy, so much older and yet delightful in its own way. I did my best to hold off, waiting until she had come first, before I let myself go inside her.
Onwards to Part 2