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Subject: {ASSM} Down On My Niece (MF, FMF, FF, MMM+F)
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<1st attachment, "DownOnMyNiece.txt" begin>
------------
Author's note
You'll notice a complete lack of concern in this text for disease
and contraception. That's because it's FANTASY, dude, and that
stuff just gets in the way. In real life, you'd be nuts to engage
in these acts without protection.
When I write for fun there's no editor to give me feedback, so
informed criticism is always welcome. Enjoy, and please write
with comments and opinions.
This may be just for fun, but it is copyrighted, and reproduction
for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note
and the author's email address.
------------
Down On My Niece (MF, FMF, FF, MMM+F)
Copyright 2004 by Nicolo "Loco" Parenti (nicoloco@hotpop.com)
A Discovery in Denver
In my defense all I can say is that I didn't set out to fuck my niece.
There are reasons for our incest taboos, after all. But it's not like
there's any actual blood between us. I'm an uncle by marriage, and she's a
step-kid, so we don't share any DNA. In degrees of consanguinity, I'm
probably closer to Kevin Bacon. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to
it.
I saw Alison a fair bit in the first year we were related, because her folks
lived nearby and we socialized, well, like family. Alison was just an
appendage on the extended brood, a gawky kid whose olive coloring was a
clear mismatch to the pale tones of her mom and step-dad. I never met her
bio-dad, but he must have had some mighty genes. And that's the last you'll
hear of him, so if I write "her dad", I mean my brother-in-law.
Alison was in middle school when a career move took her folks out of state,
so we got together only when one bunch or the other could justify the
travel. That meant I saw her development in large steps. Yes, I became one
of those relatives who says, "Look at you, how you've grown. Why, I
remember...". I may have even pinched her cheek. We were only 12 years
apart (she was 11 when I married at 23), but that's a long time at that age.
After a gap while she was at college, we reunited at her graduation party, a
big family do. I still remember the sight of her crossing the lawn to greet
us. Gone were the baby fat, the glasses and the awkward gait. Here was a
young woman in full flower, two inches taller and ten pounds lighter, with a
model's confidence and strong, high cheekbones -- had I pinched that cheek?
Her burnt-honey complexion gave her the healthy glow of a permanent tan.
Suddenly (from my time-lapse perspective) she was a knockout.
I got an extra-tight hug from her, and I felt how much she'd changed. Some
inner yardstick rated her pressing mounds as 34B or so, and the outer
measuring stick started to extend as she gave her hips a subtle shift.
"Uncle Ed," she cried as we embraced, "I'm so glad you could make it! Look
everyone, it's my favorite uncle!" This was news to me, but I wasn't going
to argue... after all, she'd just become my favorite niece.
Looking back, I can see from all the little touches and extra attention,
that she came on to me a bit that day, but I was in denial. You guys know
how it is when you're having sexy thoughts about someone you shouldn't -- a
bit of guilt can make you believe your dick is doing the thinking (and to be
fair, it usually is).
We had kept up on the major events in her life through e-mail. Her teaching
degree hadn't led to a satisfying job -- I guess she didn't like middle
school kids that much -- so she signed on as a flight attendant for a
Chicago-based airline, the city where she'd settled.
My business has me on the road several times a year, but I rarely fly on
Alison's airline, since I live in a competitor's hub city. Still, fate
doesn't follow the air corridors, and so it was that we both wound up in
Denver one fine day in April.
A colleague and I were nursing a late afternoon drink on the open mezzanine
of a downtown hotel, when in the lobby below two stews rolled their
suitcases to the desk. My eye went casually to the blonde, who had a young-
Meg-Ryan cuteness (at least from overhead), but my attention was really on
our conversation.
Even the most obtuse of you have figured out that the other girl was Alison,
but all I saw then was an oblique view of a young woman in uniform with her
dark hair in a bun. As they joked with the clerk and picked up key cards,
my lizard brain noted that the brunette moved in a familiar way. By the
time the thought had bubbled to the top, they were moving toward the
elevators. And by the time I'd leapt up and headed for the stairs, leaving
my companion wondering about my sanity (or my bladder), they were gone.
I went right to a house phone, but apparently they were sharing an airline-
paid room, and Alison's name wasn't on it. I'm sure the clerk thought of
calling the cops as I blathered the tale of my niece, how I wanted to find
her room and surprise her. It sounded lame even to me, and of course it did
no good.
The missed opportunity bothered me for the rest of the afternoon, but by
evening I'd accepted it as a close call, and let it go. I joined the after-
dinner crowd in the lounge and sat in a back booth, nursing a microbrew as a
jazz trio played just loud enough to make every conversation an intimate
one.
Then everything changed.
Mine wasn't the only head that swiveled as a pretty blonde with a Meg Ryan
shag slinked in wearing a short, sexy cocktail dress, checked out the room,
and claimed a spot at the bar. But I'll bet mine were the only eyes that
left their head a moment later as a honey-skinned babe with dark hair down
to her spaghetti straps strolled in, sat at the other end of the bar, and
nodded to the bartender.
You wouldn't know it from the story so far, but I'm normally pretty good at
reading a room. If I hadn't been so focused on this second chance to
connect with Alison, the setup would have screamed at me. But focused I
was, so I downed my beer and started to work through the crowd toward the
bar.
When I regained sight of her, she was no longer alone. A guy about my age
with a cocky grin had taken the next stool and was leaning in, stroking her
bare upper arm, and generally doing his charming best to pick her up. I
chuckled to myself that he was in for a surprise... when world tilted and,
at least for me, the room went quiet. I wasn't seeing a casual pickup. No,
I'd seen this picture before: a negotiation.
I watched the dance play out in front of me, as my brain re-sorted and
sifted all the cues into a new version of reality. Ho... lee... shit! They
were so intent on each other, and the deal, that Alison never saw me. Given
the context, I'm not sure I would have registered anyway.
When she slipped a ten onto the bar and slid off her stool, I knew this
wasn't a new thing, and the bartender was hip to it. I mentally shook
myself back to the present, and thought, Did I misread all that? Was there
an innocent explanation? Could I have the next go? Oops, scratch that
last.
I figured that an approach to the other stew could confirm or rebut my
thesis, so I moved her way. She'd drawn the same attention that Alison had,
but there was still an empty stool on her left for me.
I could overhear bits of her chat with the guy on her right, and it was
obvious that he wasn't getting it. I was reminded of that scene from
'Arthur': "...she'sh a HOOKER? I thought she jusht liked me."
I touched her arm, and when she glanced over I asked if I could buy her a
drink. Mr. Right was irritated -- he thought he'd staked a claim -- but
blondie was ready to cut bait and turned her 100-watt smile my way.
"Hey, thanks, sure I'll take a drink from a handsome stranger. Stoly rocks,
Ray," she addressed the bartender. So I guess she's not new here. I gave
Ray a nice tip and he gave a subtle nod to my lovely pal.
I normally don't 'do' hookers (still assuming she was one), and never one
this classy, so I was just winging it here. But I do know business, and I
assumed that her experience would help us over any rough spots. "Strangers
don't know each other's names", I smiled, "and since now you know that I'm
Ed, we're nearly friends."
"Hi, Ed, nice to meet you, I'm Lacy," she said, offering her hand. OK,
sure, Lacy, whatever. "So, are you in town on business?"
"Good guess, Lacy, business it is, and just two days left." We chatted a
while about nothing, and eventually I returned her question. "How about you?
Is it business for you, too?"
She appraised me openly and apparently decided I was fresh meat. "Actually,
Ed, I'm on a very pleasant kind of business. I don't need an office, the
hours are great, and I meet such interesting men." There it was... not
people, men. We were on the same page, my hypothesis proven. Q-E-fucking-
D.
She'd had the chance to tell me she was a stew on layover, out for a good
time, and when that didn't happen I knew that somewhere over our heads, my
luscious young niece had a customer, not a friend, plugging one or more of
her holes. The thought made me so horny that I decided to let this young
beauty lighten my wallet, just for the relief.
"Yeah," I winked, "I figured. Are you... open for business tonight?"
I must have looked like I could carry the freight, because 'Lacy' took my
hand and hopped off the stool. "I think you'll find I'm very open. Shall
we check out the view from your room?" Wow, from pitch to sale in 10
minutes -- not bad, for a girl.
I got my first good look at the whole package, and it was quite nice. She
was early twenties, about 5'4", tanned and athlete-slim, with maybe B-cup
breasts that did fine without a bra. Her greenish eyes and orthodontic
smile completed the movie-star look that started with the shag do. This
girl fucks for a living? I thought. Well, fucks and flies, but who's
counting. Probably working her way through grad school.
We nuzzled a little in the elevator, and I cupped one of her tits (strictly
research) as I gave her throat a gentle lick and suck. "No hickeys, baby, I
have to maintain here," she cautioned. I murmured an assurance and she
melted just a little as I caught a hot spot. Either she's a good actress, I
mused, or she's new enough at this to still get turned on.
Once we got to the room she made an odd request. "Ed, honey, do you mind if
I see your plane ticket?" I wondered if she was getting her jobs mixed up.
She saw that I was confused, though she couldn't know why, and explained, "I
have to be careful about cops. If you're from out of town, you'll have a
return flight, right?" Right. Clever girl. And I was clever enough to
cover my last name with a thumb as I showed her.
Once that was settled she got down to business. "It's a hundred for
straight sex, thirty minutes max, one-fifty for half-and-half." Which I
took to mean a blowjob, then a fuck. Or maybe the order wasn't important.
Either way, I wanted the whole ride and I didn't know if hondeling was
allowed, so I whipped out the bills. "And I don't do bareback, or anal."
Great, more technical terms. I briefly considered asking for a manual.
"You've got a deal, sweet," I said, handing her the cash. "Now if you don't
mind, I'd like to see what my money's buying." Well, OK, renting.
"Get comfortable," she smiled, "and let me dance a little for you." Damn,
here I was about to pop my zipper from the inside, and Lacy wanted to put on
a show. I hoped there were no puppets involved. Or hmmm, wait... "Why
don't you slip off those tight pants," she nodded at my crotch, "and settle
back."
I dropped them with the fluid motion that earned me the nickname "Culottes
Rapides" in Biarritz one season (long story), and plopped onto the bed.
Lacy did her strip with such relish that I started looking around for
mustard. There was only so much she could do, since all she wore was a
clingy dress and matching thong. Still, she managed a nice tease, and my
appreciation was prominently displayed.
She finished by stepping out of the silky thong while pushing her rear my
way, exposing her neatly trimmed bush and winking rosebud to my approving
eyes, as her firm breasts swayed slightly beneath. She was attractive,
nicely built, well-spoken, and very sexy. I wondered again why, with all
that going for her, she was selling it in hotel bars.
My hand had found my dick (odd how that happens) and was idly stroking as I
watched. Lacy straightened and smiled. "Here, that's my job... and ooh,
what a nice one you've got there. What is it, eight and a half?" I might
approach six and a half on a good night, but I guess I'd paid for the
compliment. Or was that a sly Fellini reference?
She knelt and gave my johnson a better inspection than my urologist -- of
course, he'd never seen it this hard. I must have passed, because she
started licking the sensitive underside, then sucked the knob into her lips.
"Ummm...?" I questioned. "No rubber?"
"Not for this part," she grinned mischievously, "I like the taste and I love
the feel of a man in my mouth. You don't mind, do you?" she asked. Ah, the
very model of a rhetorical question. She dropped her head, engulfed my cock
and grasped the shaft in one operation.
She was a very good cock sucker, with just the right combination of teasing,
aggression, and rhythm. As I got closer my hips started straining off the
bed, which was her signal to hold me as deeply as she could without gagging,
while doing something with her tongue that I still haven't figured out. I
guess it must have been covered in Blowjob Grad School. Whatever, it sent
me over the edge, and I let off a spurt that could have hit the ceiling --
thank god there was a naked blonde to block it, and the next ones.
She took it all without spilling, and kept bobbing gently to get the last
twitch from my deflating member. I've long since given up deciding what the
best head I ever had was -- pointless really, since you can't remember
ecstasy -- but that was definitely Grade A. If I'd had a blue ribbon with
me, she'd have worn it home.
And I think this was some kind of hooker stratagem, because no way was I
going to be able to fuck her now. Or so I thought. She wiggled onto me,
straddling my lap, and I found myself with a faceful of breasts.
I'm a 'tit man' in the classic sense -- a connoisseur for whom size, within
reason, is not an issue. For me, right-sized and natural is much better
than big and fake, or even just big. And let's talk nipples for a moment.
Or not... I've got a pair here that needs my attention.
I licked and sucked and gently chewed her nipples until they began to
stiffen. I didn't know if this meant she was really turning on, but the
sensation of her moistening pussy grinding on my cock, in fact the whole
scene, was certainly turning me on. I was running my hands along her sides
and down her spine, cupping and kneading her ass, and letting my fingers
explore her most personal creases and crevices.
Within a few minutes I was starting to rise again, and there was a
noticeable increase in her lubrication. My probing digits met little
resistance as I pressed one, then two fingers past her lightly furred outer
lips. She moaned as my thumb found her turgid clitoris and a third finger
joined the others in her hot, slippery channel. I eased the fingers out
while keeping a gentle pressure on her clit, stroked her perineum (I'm not a
doctor, but I play one in stories) and finally eased my slicked middle
finger into her pulsating anus. That broke the spell.
"No, honey, I don't take it there, remember?" she panted, either well
aroused or capable of feats of great bodily control, since a flush had
spread across her breasts and was creeping up to her neck.
I responded gently, "Oh, I won't fuck your ass, Lacy, not unless you ask me.
I'm just exploring. But this feels good, right?... I can tell you like it,
and I like it too, so why not just go with it?" I continued the light
reaming, rubbing her pink pearl and suckling at her outstanding tits.
"Mmmm... what you're doing feels great... but don't you want to fuck me? I
need you to fuck me now, Ed." Ever the businesswoman -- one eye on the
clock, even in the midst of passion.
Now here's where I stumbled, and began my descent into depravity. Well,
maybe continued it... I think the start was a couple of decades ago.
Anyway, I had what passes for a brainstorm in these situations. Given which
head was doing the thinking, maybe 'dickstorm' is a better term.
"I sure do want to fuck you, Lacy. But I wonder if there's something else
we might try. I've always wanted to watch two girls get it on, and maybe
join in. Would you consider that? Do you know anyone who'd be willing to
share with us?" I'm sure you see where I'm going with this.
Lacy had to take a minute to refocus. "Uh, well, I haven't done that, I
don't know, it seems... don't you want to fuck me? Can I suck you again,
get you going? Please, just fuck me. I need it bad."
Oh ho, a reluctant ho. Maybe she wasn't so experienced. Come to think of
it, how could she be, if she worked a regular job and just did this one
night a week or so?
"I'll pay, Lacy. There's another $400 in it, split it with the other girl.
C'mon, you must know someone," I said, hoping that there was only one
possibility.
I'd said the magic words. Not 'hocus pocus', but 'four hundred'. "Uh, I
can check. I have a friend, but she might be... busy right now." Naw, I
thought, she got that guy off like a bunny and is trolling again. "Let me
make a call."
She speed-dialed her cell as she excused herself to the bathroom, still
gloriously naked. I hugged the door to hear what I could, and I'll make up
the rest (so sue me).
"Hey, it's me. I guess you're back from your date? How was it? ... No
shit, really? Cool, that's a lot. But anal -- girl, I don't know how you
do it. ... Yeah, right, someday NOT." Ohmigod, my dear little niece takes
it up the pooper. I can hardly contain myself -- I'm rock hard just
eavesdropping. Oh, but yeah, I was already rock hard.
"Umm, look, I don't know if you're up for this, but I'm with a guy who
offered 300 bucks [why, the little minx] for a three way... but we'd have
to, you know, do each other too. Yeah, I know, we said this might come up
when we started, but now it's time. Uh huh, right, no, he's cool, I already
blew him, and he really had me going here. What? Oh, he's like 40, but
he'd be a lot of fun. Shit, I don't know, maybe he'd go 400. Anyway, I
already got a hundred for the BJ, so you can have 200, how's that? It'd
mean we could call it a week." I drifted away, since it sounded like it was
down to a quibble about the rate.
OK, yes, you're right. I was ignoring the elephant in the room: no matter
what, Alison would recognize me and when that happened, all bets were off.
I had no strategy, no plan... either this would be great, or it would blow
up so big there'd be repercussions for years. But hell, life's a risk,
right? And remember which head is doing the risk assessment.
I was sure enough about this that I got a Viagra out of my bag and popped it
in anticipation. I wanted to fuck these two beauties blind. And if you
don't ask why I'm carrying Viagra on a business trip, I won't ask about
those tax deductions of yours.
Lacy flipped the phone off and came out to find me across the room and not
the slightest bit listening at the door. Ahem. "She'll do it, but she says
we have to get $500. Do you have that much on you?"
Since I had a feeling that money-talk wasn't going to survive the coming
shock, I made a token show of reluctance. "I only have about $200 in cash,
but there's an ATM in the lobby. Tell you what. Here's the $200, for good
faith. You get your friend up here... what's her name, by the way?"
"It's Lila," she lied.
"Great, get Lila up here and, ah, get involved, while I hit the machine for
the rest. When I come back I'll expect to find you two naked and going at
it. Deal?"
She appraised me again. "Deal," she said, taking the bills. She re-dialed
and said only, "1411." She clicked off and gave me a quizzical smile, as if
wondering what she'd gotten herself into.
To ease her mind, I took a few more licks at her nipples and fingered her
moist slit as she stroked me. I reluctantly broke away to slip on a shirt
and slacks for the elevator ride. Timing was important now... but then,
when isn't it?
As I pushed the button, I realized that the elevator could even now be
carrying 'Lila' up, and this wasn't the spot for that meeting. I walked
down a flight to catch a ride from there.
I took my time at the ATM, trying to figure how long it would take for
Aliso... uh, Lila to arrive and get naked. I had no illusions about them
starting without me -- I figured they'd talk shop until the door clicked and
fake it from there. But I wanted them both there and ready, and not sure if
they had time to snoop, or steal. I'd taken my wallet and travel papers,
but who knows what a curious pro could ferret out.
As I rode back up the Viagra started to kick in, and thoughts about what was
coming had my dick on the rise. Luckily I passed no one in the hall -- this
trouser tent wasn't for sharing with passing strangers.
I slid in the key card and took a deep breath. I couldn't predict how this
would play out, but I knew that opening the door would set in motion
something with a life of its own.
I turned the handle and pushed, muttering, "Well, here goes nothing..."
------------------------------------------------
Alison's Tale -- Standard Deviations
If you'd told me ten years ago I'd be where I am today I'd have laughed and
called you crazy. Back then I was a 14-year-old girl who had just moved
1000 miles to where my dad's business had taken us. Moving is hard on a
teenager, but overall this could have been much worse. It was during that
big, exciting change between middle and high school, so a new city was just
one more thing.
It took all summer to get my bearings, both physically and emotionally. I
made friends in the neighborhood and started to go through some outward
changes. My tits were coming in as my weight shifted from girl-places to
woman-places, and my hormones were raging. By the time school started in
the fall I had a nicely budding body and I knew that boys and men liked to
look at me. And I liked to look at them.
I hadn't had sex yet, hadn't even seen a penis except in the pictures we all
giggled about, but I sure knew what a penis was for. Dicks, cocks, boners,
hardons -- I dreamed of them as I rubbed myself at night, teasing my
clitoris and testing my depths with fingers or a hairbrush handle.
Sometimes the cocks had faces: pop stars, local boys, neighbors, relatives
-- anything male. More often they were anonymous, plundering my tight
pussy, ravaging my helpless ass, sliding roughly between my sucking lips.
Sometimes they were black, or came in groups. Me, I came every time.
Oh, we knew about the things that boys and their tools could do to a girl.
We had all the stories and images we wanted, thanks to the Internet, most of
them by men who had no idea what girls felt. These definitely shaped my
views on what sex should be like, and not necessarily all bad. But we
dreamed of love, too: romantic evenings with powerful but gentle men...
exotic travels as fiercely independent women... a remote ranch with taciturn
cowboys and prize stallions. You know, complete fantasies.
I dated some that freshman year, learning more about guys and their urges,
feeling the power my body gave me over them, and feeling too, but not
revealing, their power over me. I touched my first clothed cock that year,
and its feel, the denim-muted ridges and insistent throbbing, fueled my
masturbation for a week. I allowed some exploration of my own body, letting
boys cup my bra-covered breasts as we kissed at parties or in parks. One
got a clumsy feel of my pantied crotch, but no more. Don't get me wrong, it
was never a question of "if", only "when".
My girlfriends were as bold and curious as me, and I'm sure we whispered and
compared notes as much as the boys boasted and snickered. As a group we
must have formed a classic bell curve, with a few total prudes and a few
sluts at the edges, and the rest somewhere in the middle, looking for a safe
but satisfying course through the steamy jungle of sex.
Some went the girl-girl route, and while I don't doubt there were boys of
the same persuasion, for some reason that was more taboo and hidden. I
think for us girls it's more innocent in a way, where the macho culture
says, "Lick one cock, and you're a homo."
I'll admit to some experiments along those lines, like when my friend Julie
and I wanted to get better at french-kissing. No big deal, we were each
pretending to be with a boy. Well, I was, but Julie not so much. When her
hand crept under my waistband, I suspected this wasn't just about boys.
When I saw the look in her eyes as she pulled off my panties, I was sure of
it. I let her touch me, then gave a little shiver as her face hit my lap.
Julie must have done it before, or had a really good imagination, because I
had my first orgasm with another person as Julie licked and probed the
places that up until now only I had touched. I came hard when she sucked
my clit, and yes, I did return the favor... a few times. But I knew this
wasn't my thing, because I always imagined she was a boy, and this was
leading to the real act of love I craved -- a hot, hard, male member
thrusting into me, not just a couple of girlish fingers.
I got some direct experience with a dick in my sophomore year. I'd grown
taller and thinned out almost everywhere except my chest, which made me kind
of a boy magnet. By then I was dating, and got steady with a hot guy named
Brian. I had no trouble getting his cock out of his pants, and by word and
grunt he taught me how to jerk him off as we kissed. From the very first I
loved the feel, and yes the taste on my fingers, of his silky, salty semen.
I let him do the same for me -- nuzzling my breasts, sucking and pulling at
the nipples until I thought I'd come just from the sensation. I directed
his hand to my pussy and the bud at the top. His fingers probed crudely,
until I guided them to my hot center and let him slip them in. Neither of
us was shy about expressing our preferences, and it wasn't long before we
were very, very good at getting each other off by hand.
And it wasn't much longer after that, that I took his hardness into my mouth
and sucked the sperm from his balls. It thrilled me to think that I had my
first cock inside me. I loved the stiff and spongy feel of it as my lips
and tongue gave him (and me) this new pleasure. It was heaven, and then
even more when he responded in kind.
My experience with Julie hadn't prepared me for oral sex from Brian. His
technique wasn't great -- he didn't have the practice parts that Julie had
-- but he made up for it with enthusiasm. And he was a real guy, with a
real cock. We spent that spring eating and stroking as much as we could. I
was in love, that's how much I knew.
There was one thing we hadn't done, and while Brian was eager and I was
willing, it never happened. I found he'd been using me to rehearse for more
of the same with Karen, who let him fuck her on their first date. Then she
let Brian and Steve both fuck her on their second. Bell curve? Karen
wasn't even on the slope.
He'd also been bragging to his buddies, which felt like even more of a
betrayal. We stopped going out -- I completely stopped dating, after some
crude advances from his friends -- and while I missed the intimacy and the
mutual orgasms, I didn't miss him. I decided to set my sights beyond the
neighborhood, and beyond high school boys. I'd show these assholes.
Now 16 and with a driver's license, I found bars two and three towns away
where ID was optional for a cute young girl, and tested the limits of my
sexual power. I know now that I was overreacting to what I saw as Brian's
betrayal, but I did learn a lot in a short time about what men and women
did, not just boys and girls. And I slid off that hump in the middle of the
bell curve...
I fucked my way to the bottom. Any guy who paid attention to me and treated
me nice could take me to his truck for a blowjob, and if I liked his cock,
we'd fuck in whatever position we could manage. Nobody knew my real name --
I was Lila here, not Alison -- and I didn't give a shit about theirs. This
was the closest I could come to the faceless cocks that had filled my
fantasies a few years ago. I probably blew twenty men that year, and fucked
half of them.
So far it was one-on-one sex, until one night when I exceeded my two-beer
limit. I was flying, and when two guys offered me a little weed, I jumped
at it. We went into a back room and before I knew it I was stoned out loud,
and the small space was filling with hot music, horny men and a few horny
women. I giggled my way through a clumsy striptease, and once I was nude I
started rubbing up against the two closest men, pulling out their hard
dicks.
One of them felt up my tits as the other explored my pussy. I bent to suck
one guy as another positioned himself behind and plunged into me with one
sweet, brutal stroke. Cocks sprang from denim around the room, and one of
the other women knelt to suck off her man. Soon she too was being stripped
and fingered, and soon after that every woman was handling a couple of men
each as lines formed around us. I'd sparked a full-blown orgy.
I was so wasted that I have no idea how many times I was fucked that night,
or how many men -- and women -- I sucked off. Maybe ten? Whatever, it was
a big-time wake-up call. I knew I had to shape up or I'd be in trouble. I
passed a couple of scary weeks and visits to the doctor's office before I
felt like I'd really come through it OK, by sheer luck.
From then until graduation I was sane, sober, and celibate -- if you don't
count vibrators. Only dated in groups, didn't suck dick one. By my senior
year I had it together, applied to a couple of universities, and was
accepted at one.
In college I let myself date again, but it was the new me, one guy at a time
and no real fun on the first two dates. I know it's vain to say it, but I'd
really blossomed by my third year. I was a great-looking, sexy and alluring
woman. I had modeling offers -- even legit ones -- but turned them down.
The new me wanted to teach, maybe steer some kids away from what I'd gone
through. From bar slut to idealist in three short years... a touching
cautionary tale.
Too bad it didn't stick.
What happened was a guy named Ed. He was from a college in another state,
visiting a fraternity brother in the local chapter. We met in a coffee
line, and with one look I was a goner: he was the younger image of my Uncle
Ed, one of the many imagined cocks that got me through my virgin teens. I'd
had a crush on my uncle, I think mostly because he was the first college-age
guy I had any contact with as a teen. Plus he was a bit of a hottie.
So here was another Ed, which I was sure was fate, asking me if I liked
parties. Well, who doesn't like a party? We wound up that Friday at the
chapter house, and after some hot dancing and a little necking, found the
makeout room. We were moving a little fast for the new me, but I felt in
control... right up until he cupped my breast with one hand, spread my legs
with the other, and licked the inside of my ear while placing my hand on his
slacks, right on top of his stony cock. Overload... danger...
Before I knew it, Ed had my panties off and was eating my pussy like a
sailor on leave. He was damn good at it, fingering me and sucking my clit
until I came like Christmas. Still he kept it up, bringing me to another
peak, then another, until I begged him to stop -- absolutely a first for me.
And each time I called out his name, I flashed to my uncle, my fantasy lover
from years ago. Scary... I had no idea that was lurking in my subconscious.
Once that demon had escaped, another one got out. Other couples had drifted
into the room, and even in the murky dark they could tell what was going on.
My cries got the others to kick it up a notch, and when I grabbed Ed by his
dick and started sucking like the slut I thought I no longer was, the sounds
and the action also drew the attention of some in the noisy main room. Ed
told me how great I looked with my mouth on his prick, said that others were
watching now, and asked how far I was willing to go in public. I stopped
long enough to growl that I needed cock, lots of cock, keep it coming and
make it last.
After Ed fucked me I took on seven guys that night, not counting blowjobs or
seconds. I only know how many because Ed kept count. I'd have done more,
I'd have fucked all of Greek Row if they'd been there, but I had to share my
dicks with a couple of the other girls in the room. They took me every
which way, maybe one fucking me doggy while another probed my throat, or
twisted like a pretzel with a cock straight down into me. My nipples were
sucked by men and women alike. It was my barroom orgy all over again, which
I thought I'd left far behind, only this time I was stone cold sober. I
could see a pattern developing, and I didn't like it.
What the hell had I been thinking? Not the right question -- I hadn't been
thinking at all. I'd been lost in a haze of sex, of cocks and clits,
pussies and tongues, mouths and nipples, and it was exactly what I wanted,
at least right then. When 2 AM rolled around and Ed was helping me from a
pile of snoring bodies, it didn't seem like all that great an idea any more.
I'd just fucked a whole fraternity (well, it felt like it) on my first date
with a guy I'd been hoping to impress.
But he was impressed. He told me I was the hottest piece of ass he'd ever
met. I was beautiful, smart, uninhibited, and loved sex. This wasn't
exactly the impression I'd hoped for, but Ed wasn't put off in the least.
He suggested that with my liking for public sex, I'd be a natural on the
fraternity circuit, especially after we made a couple of videos to help sell
me. I screamed in protest, furious that he would even suggest that I'd do
this for money, or for god's sake, make a porno. I gathered my clothes and
stormed off with all the dignity a well-used slut could muster.
In shame and confusion I stayed out of the public eye all week, but I
thought a lot about what Ed had said, about the money I could make, how I
wouldn't be doing anything I hadn't done for free. It seemed like a huge
step from party girl to party favor, but without realizing it, I was talking
myself into it in small stages.
I'd been ignoring Ed's calls for eight days when I finally picked up. He
was apologetic, he was sheepish, he was so sorry for making such a crude
sugg... when I surprised both of us by interrupting him to say OK, I'd try
it. But not here, not in my backyard. We'd have to go to his college.
When he found his voice again he asked if I was being sarcastic. I told him
no, that he was right, I loved to fuck and I didn't mind doing it in front
of other people. If there was a way to turn that into cash, I'd like to
give it a shot. But no videos, no pictures, no real names. So what did he
think I was worth?
He said that even a skanky whore (I winced) could get two grand plus tips
for doing a houseful of brothers, maybe 15 to 20 guys, but once they got a
look at how hot I was, it could go double that or more. He'd take ten
percent for managing it, the house would take another ten, and I'd have to
'interview' with the chapter president first. He could set things up at his
home house for next weekend, with an interview Friday and a party on Sunday.
I told him to do it, sounding way more sure than I really was.
We drove the few hours in relative silence, my nervousness growing as we got
closer. Twice I told him to turn around, and twice he talked me down. He
told me how sexy and demure I looked, and how hot it made him to think of
sharing me with his brothers. As proof he placed my hand on his hard prick,
and I obliged by sucking him off as he drove, in full view of traffic. Once
I made him stop on the shoulder so he could fuck the tension out of me.
Jim, the chapter president, was as nice as could be. In his office, with Ed
sitting off in a corner, he complimented me on my looks and clothes, and we
chatted like old friends. When it was time for my 'interview', I was
relaxed, even eager. I stood at his desk and began to shed my dress, asking
Jim for his help with the zipper. He got behind me, kissed my neck, and
cupped my braless breasts. When I was completely nude, he turned me to face
Ed, and asked if he wanted to help. Ed grinned and said he'd already put
two loads in me today, so I was spun back around for a deep kiss.
Jim ravished me. He ate me, fucked me, chewed my nipples, fingered my
asshole. He had a great cock, thick and sturdy, and he knew how to use it.
I fucked him back, tongued his balls, fingered HIS asshole, and, I say with
no false modesty, wore him out. All the action eventually got to Ed, who
took another turn fucking me from the rear as I sucked on Jim.
I guess I was OK, because after we got decent again Jim introduced me around
the house as Lila and told them I'd be the entertainment at Sunday's party.
Jaws were dropping -- apparently Ed was right that I was better than the
usual. I gave every guy I met a little hug and got felt up quite a bit in
the process.
I was hotter than a firecracker Saturday and Sunday. Ed and I probably
fucked five times at my hotel, and Sunday evening before ten we made our way
back to the fraternity. Word must have gotten out that there was a special
girl, because the lawn was full of cars, and raucous cheers and party music
spilled out of the windows. The guy at the door was collecting $200 a pop
for full admission, meaning access to me, and $50 for the show only. I
started to doubt I could really handle this, and Ed must have sensed my
hesitation because he leaned over to give me a wet kiss and a squeeze of
encouragement.
Inside the house it was not-so-organized chaos. There must have been 100
guys and a few women milling around the dining hall, all with colored wrist
bands. Maybe a quarter of the bands were green, the rest red. Shit, I
thought. Red better be for watching only, or I'm out of here. At exactly
ten o'clock the front doors were closed. Jim shouted for attention and drew
me onto the makeshift stage -- really just a riser with a day bed on it.
He reminded everyone that no cameras were allowed, then congratulated the
lucky 20 guys who had one of the green bands (so that's how it worked),
because they could have sold twice that. He said the sergeant-at-arms would
boot any rowdies, and the lock box next to the stage was for tips. He
introduced me, Lila, as the loveliest, sexiest and horniest girl he'd ever
had the pleasure of, ah, interviewing, which brought hoots from the crowd.
He said that he knew what everyone was waiting for, so let's go.
I didn't know exactly what was expected, except sex, but I figured I should
work up to that with a show to set the mood. All I was thinking was a
little dance and strip, but then at the front of the crowd I spotted a
pretty young redhead in an outfit that screamed sex, who was as worked up as
any of the guys. In as confident a voice as I could manage, I asked her
name, and with a commanding gesture invited her up.
I knew again it was fate when she said her name was Julie. With no warning
I pulled her to me, kissed her long and hard, and began to rub her small,
firm tits. The crowd went wild as Julie overcame her initial shock, melting
against me in surrender. Lucky guess on my part. While gazing deeply into
her eyes, I announced that Julie was my personal play toy -- they could
look, but not touch. She closed her eyes and shuddered as I ordered her to
start undressing us. The insistent bass pulse of the music and the sexual
heat from the crowd made it seem natural.
So began a night I will never forget, and never repeat. Julie got us naked
to the beat of the music, in a sexy dance that almost managed to hush the
hormone-charged crowd. I kissed and fondled her breasts, and she did mine.
I bent her at the waist and spread her ass to the crowd, then reached under
to insert my fingers into her sopping snatch. She came with a howl as I
licked her clit, and the men shifted their erections uncomfortably in their
pants as she drilled my sex with her tongue while I pulled at my nipples.
Before long those cocks were out, and the spermy smell of masturbating men
filled the air. I loved it. Julie was lost in her own world, as I pointed
to two green-bands and told them I was ready to fuck.
For the next three hours my pussy and my mouth were never empty, but it
never got out of hand. Red-bands were jacking off, and a few were jacking
and blowing each other -- that may seem a little odd, but if you like semen,
this was the place to be. Julie took on a couple of the women, who
apparently were regulars at this scene. One of them begged to eat me, but
she had to share that pleasure with two of the guys. Something for
everyone.
It was all over by 1 o'clock. I'd been fucked by every one of the 20 at
least twice, and threw in the bouncer for free. I'm not sure that all the
cocks I sucked had green bands. The room smelled like a jockstrap. Hell, I
smelled like a jockstrap. But I'd left them limp, and made a bundle. My
final take was $6,200 from the door, after the splits, and nearly $2,000 in
tips. I slipped Julie $500 of that, which she took only after protesting.
And no taxes, thank you very much.
It took two days to come down from the sexual high, and another four for the
soreness and bruising to subside. I took a hard look down the road I was
on, and saw a 'skanky whore' looking back. If I kept this up I'd soon be
dead or in jail. Once again I resolved to go back to clean living, to get a
teaching job in a big city where no one knew me. And I did it, ignoring all
pleas and offers from Ed, and stonily staring down any of the local
fraternity men who thought they remembered an orgy in the makeout room.
Once again, I crawled back to the top of the bell curve.
My parents threw a big graduation party for me. My high school friends were
there, along with most of my relatives. Everything was going great, but I
was unprepared for the jolt I felt when my uncle Ed showed up. Memories of
the sex I'd experienced with my friend Ed from college came rushing back,
hardening my nipples and juicing my pussy.
Suddenly I was a young teen again, frigging myself with a hairbrush while
imagining my handsome uncle's cock. To keep my knees from giving out, I
hugged him close, and I'm sure he felt my taut nipples and the fire from my
crotch as I unconsciously thrust against him. I was making a fool of
myself, and finally broke away and babbled something inane. Here's how bad
I had it -- I went right to the bathroom and got myself off, just to get
back to a semblance of normal. I had to wear a tampon to stay dry.
I kept running into him, maybe not by accident, and grew more comfortable as
the day went on. Soon we were exchanging touches and jokes, and it started
to feel like a normal family gathering. His wife, my aunt, looked at me
oddly, but Ed seemed not to notice anything out of place. I got through the
rest of the day with no other incidents.
I made good my self-promise, and relocated to Chicago to teach in the inner
city. What a huge mistake. I hated it all: the job, the school, the
administration, and most of the kids, I didn't even last the probation
period -- I got out after one year. A friend talked up the benefits of
being a flight attendant (and left out all the shitty parts), so I applied
and was accepted at one of the carriers.
Stewing isn't bad work, and it does have its upsides like free, if chancy,
travel to the big wide world. The downsides are low pay and no home life,
with newer hires like me getting all the layover nights in cities away.
There isn't much to do on layover except hit the bars, and as you know, bars
and I don't get along.
I made one good friend, in fact Mary and I shared an apartment back home,
and we coordinated our flight schedules when possible. She made the most of
a slight resemblance to Meg Ryan, and when we were at the bars together she
got more attention than I did, a welcome change.
The anonymity of hotel lounges promotes an easy intimacy, and two good-
looking women alone are hit on constantly, mostly by married men away from
the wife. It's hard to find a steady dating partner when you're traveling
all the time, so after a while we found ourselves accepting an occasional
offer, and got plenty of drinks and meals paid for by guys who'd have loved
to get laid, but had lost the knack.
But not all were clumsy, or resistible. We girls get horny too -- some of
us more than others, if you recall -- and Mary and I were of like mind, if
not of equal experience. We didn't always get lucky on the same nights, and
we never intruded if the other needed the room.
I don't know who brought it up first. We were bitching about the low pay
and how tough it was to get ahead. I joked that the hookers we'd see in the
lounges didn't have to travel as far for sex as we did. Mary said, you
know, we're fucking these guys anyway, and they're the same ones paying
these hookers, doesn't it seem like we could get more out of this than nice
dinners and one orgasm a month? I told her enough of my story to let her
know that I wasn't a complete stranger to the world of paid sex.
Cut to the chase -- we did it. We planned meticulously: what to wear, which
bars and bartenders to involve, what hours to work, what to charge, how to
watch each other's back. We watched and learned from the pros we saw, even
chatted one up for a few tips. We felt reasonably safe in the upscale
hotels we stayed at, but we set rules that we wouldn't break. It was
exciting and scary, and the planning kept us from being bored.
We decided to go slow, setting a top of $500 (tax free, remember) a week,
but never pushing it. So one day when the stars were right, we went into
action. Ray, one of the barmen at our usual hotel in Denver, would look for
likely guys and steer them our way. To say that we were nervous would be an
understatement, but we were jazzed up, too. I want to say that we became
part-time hookers that night, but I know that 'part-time whore' is like
'part-time Albanian'... you either are, or you aren't.
I won't bore you with a litany of the guys we sucked and fucked over the
next few months in hotels all over the South and West, because frankly, even
though the money was good, the sex was dull. Still, there was that money,
and it never took more than a couple of hours a week. I found out I could
make even more by allowing anal sex, something I had only flirted with
during my wild years, so that became a specialty. No big deal, just keep it
clean and learn to relax.
And this brings us to now, on a Thursday night back in Denver, where it all
started. I'd just finished a lucrative butt-fuck (yawn), when Mary called
from her john's room. We knew this would come eventually -- the guy wanted
a two-girl trick. Mary figured he'd be OK, and I trust her judgment.
This guy Ed -- funny how that name still struck a chord -- was off getting
more cash when I got to the room. Mary was wearing just a towel as she
explained the setup, saying he wanted us to be 'involved' when he came back.
She was really nervous, so I told her it was cool, I'd been with women
before, and that I was excited and curious about what it would be like with
her. I got out of my dress and rubbed her shoulders to loosen her up, as I
told her about my first Julie and all we'd done.
I worked my hands under the towel to knead her breasts, and it fell away.
Now we were both nude, and she looked fabulous. I promised her we'd have a
good time, probably the best since we started, and worked her legs apart to
expose her sex. It was the first time I'd seen her this way, and I found my
excitement growing as my body remembered my orgies and how wanton I'd been
with other women.
My fingers found her soaking as I leaned in to suckle at her lovely tits.
She fell back with a moan, squirming as I whispered to her how hot she was,
and screw this john, this would be for us, not for him, he could watch and
he could fuck, but this was ours, a chance to pleasure each other as only
two women knew how, and get paid for it.
She was mine, and ready for anything. I had two fingers in her, my thumb
was on her clit, I was kissing her wetly and pulling alternately on her
nipples, and she was ready to pop, when we heard the sound of the latch. It
was show time. I dropped to my knees and buried my head in Mary's vee, my
tongue spearing her lower lips and my naked ass in the air. The door opened
behind me and all I could think was, well, here goes nothing...
------------------------------------------------
A Piece of a Niece
What greeted me as I entered was beyond what I had hoped for, and I wasn't
even all the way in the room yet. Lila -- I'll stop that now and just call
her Alison -- was on her knees facing away from me, with her face in Lacy's
crotch as she reclined on the bed. Alison's bare ass was spread, giving me
a great view of her once-private parts. I was pleased to see that she, like
her friend, kept a little bush. Hers was dark and silky, and very inviting.
I reprised my rapid de-pantsing maneuver as I quickly shut the door and
called out, "Well, well, hello Lacy and hello Lila, glad to see you could,
ah, make it. I have something for you, but don't let me interrupt, this is
a show I've waited years to see." Lacy looked up at me with hooded,
unfocused eyes as Alison continued to lick and suck and finger.
I couldn't believe my luck. Alison still had no idea who was in the room,
and I was inches away from her beautiful pussy. Lacy started to groan and
squirm, holding her oral lover's head firmly in place as she quested for
release. I knelt behind Alison to add my tongue to the mix.
"I need to get you a little wet," I mumbled into her snatch, and applied
myself to that job. I licked her from clit to asshole and back, flicking
into her sensitive crevices as I went. I kept this up for a few minutes
until I felt Alison responding, trying for more pressure when my tongue hit
an especially nice place, and rocking a little from side to side. I slid my
hands along her flanks and up to her breasts, and soon was in contact with
both women. Lacy was becoming incoherently vocal, and Alison seemed to be
completely in the moment.
With a pinch at her nipples I rose and placed my achingly hard cock along
her butt crack. I stroked with the head, teasing both her holes and rubbing
her clit, smearing some of the goo where it would help the most. This
really got her going, and, never losing oral contact with her friend, she
grunted and pushed back in search of my member. Happy to oblige, I
whispered, "Here you go, Alison, here's the big thick dick you've been
waiting for." In all the heat it didn't register with them that I'd used
her real name, not her working name. Well, in a minute or so that wouldn't
matter.
As I eased into her sweet, fiery channel, she raised her head a bit and
howled. "Yes! Oh, Ed, yes, fuck me Ed, fuck me! Give me that beautiful
cock! Fuck me hard... deeper, deeper, give me all of it!" This wasn't the
reaction I'd expect from a seasoned whore, because it was obviously genuine.
She really did want to be fucked hard and deep. So I did her the favor,
driving her into Lacy's muff with every thrust. Her pussy was liquid fire,
hot and slick and rubbery around my cock. No one had yet noticed that I
wasn't following the bareback rule.
Thank god for the earlier blowjob, or I'd have lost my nut within seconds.
As it was, I lasted just long enough for Alison to reach her peak, which in
turn drove Lacy over the edge. Our combined yowls surely reached the lobby,
as I jetted pulses of my seed into Alison's depths. I know she felt them,
because she cried out with each one. Lacy had once more captured Alison's
head and was grinding out wave after wave of orgasm on her tireless lips and
tongue. It went on forever, or thirty seconds, whichever came first.
I slowly pulled out my still-raging penis, and Lacy gradually eased the grip
of her thighs. Alison came down by degrees from what I hoped was the best
orgasm she'd ever had. It was time for the surprise. "Now that we're close
friends, Alison, maybe it's time we were introduced." This time she did
react to her proper name, twisting around quickly to see who had just fucked
her so well, and who knew her secret self.
A look of complete shock and confusion leapt to her features, and her
normally warm complexion went white. "Ohmigod, it's you, it's Uncle Ed, oh
shit, what's going on, is this real? Oh, you just fucked me. How did you
get here... I was just..." She went on in that vein for a little longer as
she scrambled to cover her nakedness. Talk about horses and barn doors --
she quickly realized how pointless that was, since I'd just seen everything
she had, and fucked some of it.
Poor Lacy was completely at sea. "What's going on? Do you know each other?
Who are you?" A still-dazed Alison tried to explain, but couldn't form a
complete sentence, so I stepped in.
"Well, Lacy, or whatever your name really is, I've known Alison since she
was in grade school. I'm her uncle, she's my niece. Until earlier tonight
I had no idea she was into this. I saw you both in the lobby, then again at
the bar, and when I thought I saw her take a trick I had to know if it was
true, so I picked you up. The rest just sort of happened. You OK with
this?"
She bit her lower lip and looked down. After a moment she looked up at me
and said, "I'm fine, and I'm glad it happened. If it hadn't I'd have never
known that a woman, my friend, could make me come so much." She shivered a
little as she remembered. "But what happens now?" She gestured to Alison.
"I mean, she's kind of out of it and all. Oh, and it's Mary." Her offered
hand was somewhat incongruous, but I accepted it anyway, and placed it on my
rigid pole.
"What happens now is I'd like to finish what we started a little while ago.
I still haven't felt your pussy from the inside, Mary. And Alison," I
turned to her, and her gaze was fixed on Mary's hand as it held my hard
cock, "would you like to continue with us?"
She gave a vacant, girlish nod, so we continued.
Nothing we did was all that unique or memorable, it was just a slippery mix
of cock and lips and pussy that lasted until the Viagra wore off, then a bit
longer until I couldn't even get my tongue up. Mary ate Alison, they both
blew me, and so on and so on. I have never in my life had such completely
abandoned and extended sex with two lovelier women -- or one.
We slept in a pile on my king bed, occasionally waking long enough to nuzzle
a breast, or finger a pussy, or suckle on a limp dick. The next day we
talked, and Alison confessed to having had an inexplicable passion for me
ever since her boyfriend Ed had turned her out. When she found herself
again being fucked by an Ed while eating another girl, her mind had split,
and she was back on her virgin bed, impaled on my imagined cock. Finding me
there in the flesh, after a mind-blowing orgasm, had proven to be too much,
and she lost it.
For her part, Mary was at ease. She had discovered a side of herself she
hadn't known, and the way she held Alison's hand at breakfast spoke volumes
about where she wanted it to go. The fact that her other hand was working
in my lap at the same time spoke another couple of volumes.
------------------------------------------------
I still travel a fair bit, and when possible we arrange our schedules to
allow a reunion. The girls drifted away from the sex business, and while
their relationship has moved beyond just roommates, they still invite guys
into their bed on occasion for fun. I enjoy hearing about it, especially
when they make the inevitable comparison to our time in Denver. They say
that no one since has come close to recapturing what we had, and that's a
nice ego boost.
Thomas Wolfe wrote that you can never go home again, and he knew what he was
talking about. There's no time like your first, and when three fantasies
are fulfilled at the same time, the magic can't be repeated. But that'll
never stop us from trying...
-- End --
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