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Message-ID: <63692asstr$1451578203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Albert Speer <meatbot777@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Hippie Kids (Pedo, Family Incest, Mg, Fb, bg)
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Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2015 11:10:03 -0500
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Title         : Hippie Kids

Author     : MeatBot

Keywords : Pedo, Family Incest, Mg, Fb, bg

Date        : 20151215

Mail         : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

This story :
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     text -
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/HippieKids%20-%20Pedo%20Inc%20Mg%20Fb%20bg.txt

My other stories :
     HTML -
http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=26255
     text - http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

Synopsis : Twin brother and sister raised in the hippie lifestyle discover
sex.

Disclaimer : Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive,
repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals,
anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the
author. This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual
activity among persons under 16 in real life.

These are just words, people. Just words. If you don't like them, see a
shrink or an English teacher. As you may be able to tell from this shit,
I'm not crazy about hippies. But live and let live.


                              --==+==--


Sometimes kids have it rough, from day one. These two did, and of course,
it was no fault of their own. Fate chose poorly, and they were born to a
couple of hippies. Just flat out hippies, no glossing over it, so sugar
coating. A couple of goddam hippies. Ambrosia and Andrew's parents had met
at some kind of big love-in thing in a field a few miles out of San
Francisco in the late 70's, and the rest, as they say, is history. They
moved into a commune near a lake next to Woodland and lived in peace and
harmony with nature. Actually, it wasn't all wine and roses... money,
looked upon as a necessary evil, was tight. The kids grew up without many
of the luxuries that kids their age took for granted. It had it's benefits,
they spent most of their childhood outdoors, and had many happy childhood
memories. Often they were without supervision for hours and sometimes
almost literally days on end. They were almost feral, in some ways. That
lack of supervision also led to many interesting situations, as we shall
see.

They lived in a yurt, a dome made of scraps of sheet metal and other
materials pilfered from building sites and a nearby air force base. There
was a small primitive outhouse behind it, although Ambrosia and Andrew were
usually far afield when they answered Nature's calls. Ambrosia had a
sensitive nose, and felt the outhouse was olfactorily challenged. She much
preferred to poop in the garden and let her Dad work it into the soil; he
was an amateur gardener but didn't yet know the dangers of fertilizing with
human waste.

Ambrosia and Andrew were twins, of course not identical, since they were
different sexes. Their twin-ness was the cause of many amusing incidents as
they grew up, not the least of which was endlessly giggled over, eventually
causing Ambrosia some embarrassment. Ambrosia went through a period of
dissatisfaction with her body, due to the constant comparison of it to her
brother's. The children were naked most of the year, due to the mild
California climate, and one evening Ambrosia approached her mother and
announced that she, too, would like to have a penis. Her mom was amused,
leading to an eventual hissy-fit on Ambrosia's part and yet more laughter
when her dad heard about it. But why? she asked. Why does he get one and I
don't? Like I said, she got tired of hearing about it, years later.

One hot day, near the end of summer the children were way out in the woods
with a large group of kids, children of other families of the commune. The
kids often hung out at the swimming hole, a widened area of a small creek
with overhanging trees that could be jumped from. A rope had been fixed to
a tree, allowing them to swing out over the water also.

"Bro..." said Andrew, as all the kids lay in a small sunny area and rested.

"Whut?" said his sister. To them, "Bro" was short for Ambrosia, not
"brother."

"Tell everbody what mom 'n dad did all night..." he said, laughing.

His sister laughed in return. "They fucked all night," she said. Some kids
laughed, some kids acted shocked, and some kids acted curious. The commune
had all kinds, from liberal new-age free thinkers like Ambrosia and
Andrew's parents, to strict religious types, and even a few goofy-ass
cultists. Some kids saw it all, some kids saw nothing.

"What you mean?" said Dennis, who's parents were of the cultish variety.

"They fucked," said Ambrosia. "You know, they made babies."

"Babies?" a girl said. "You momma gonna have more babies?"

"Naw," said Ambrosia. "She got medicine that keeps that from happenin'. She
just like to fuck."

Some kids laughed again.

"How they do it?" said Dennis, understandably curious. He'd never even seen
his parents naked, much less fucking. Naked was the usual state of dress at
Ambrosia's yurt. Of course, Dennis was no stranger to nudity, he, like all
the other kids, went nude at the swimming hole and often other places, when
out from under watchful adult eyes.

"Well," Ambrosia warmed up. She and Andrew often watched from beneath a
blanket an arm's-length away while their parents got it on. It made her
feel warm and happy, knowing that her parents still loved each other that
much. Considering some of the things they saw, like her dad putting his
face in her mom's bottom, they must really love each other a lot. "Okay,
the woman lays like this..." She demonstrated, stretching out on the
ground, spreading her legs apart widely.

"Now..." she looked at Dennis. "Dennis. Climb on top'a me."

"What?" he said. He felt embarrassed, and singled out. Some of the other
kids giggled, not helping any. "No way," he said.

"Andrew," Ambrosia said, "Climb on top'a me."

Andrew laughed. He wasn't shy, and he knew what she intended. He slid over
on top of his sister, covering her hot little sun-warmed limbs with his.
She felt nice beneath him.

"'Kay," said Ambrosia. "The guy puts his weenie..." she reached down and
felt around until she found Andrew's soft little eleven-year old cock.
"Well..." she said. "The guy's weenie gets stiff, somehow. We ain't
figgered that part out yet."

"Get stiff?" a girl said, a girl who was from a fundie fruitcake family.
"Wha'choo mean, get stiff?"

"You know," said Ambrosia, "it gets stiff and stands up. Ain't you never
seen yore dad's weenie get stiff before?"

"I ain't never seen my dad's weenie anyhow," the girl said, feeling left
out.

"Well, it gets stiff and long and bigger 'round," said Ambrosia. "And he
lays down on me like Andy is, an' he puts it... he puts it in her...
whatchoo guys call it? On a girl, down there?"

There were several replies, ranging from "vagina" to "kitty-kat" to "cunt."
Ambrosia giggled at that one, she knew the word "cunt," and she liked the
naughty feeling it gave her. Kids, when raised like these two were, rarely
got to feel that "naughty" feeling, and it was something that sent a thrill
through her, on those rare occasions when it happened. Times like this.

"Yeah," she said, "I like that one too. Cunt." She giggled, as did most of
the other kids. All kids like dirty words, even holy roller kids.

"Anyway," she went on, fumbling beneath her for Andrew's penis again. She
took it in her hand and gently pulled on it. "The guy sticks it in, and
they just go like that for a while, up and down, up and down. The woman
says oh god oh god 'n shit like that, and the guy moans and makes funny
faces, if you can see his face. After like a few hours of gettin' faster
an' faster he says holy goddam fucking shit! and falls over an' just lays
there, and my mom says thank you Roscoe an' just lays there too, 'cept she
smiles and hums sometimes."

The other kids laughed, most of them fairly confused. It's just something
you have to see, it's hard to describe, but the girl tried. Ambrosia pushed
against Andrew, and he lifted himself off her body.

"Shit, Andrew..." she said, and he looked at her. She almost never used his
full name, but she did this time. She was staring at down at his little
penis. Only... now it wasn't that little. It had gotten longer, and bigger
around. It was almost red on the end, and stuck straight out from his flat
stomach.

"Like that!" said Ambrosia excitedly, pointing. "That's what it looks
like!" She looked at her brother with pride. He was a little embarrassed,
at all the attention, but he stood there, on his knees, and let the other
kids stare at his cock.

"Just like Dad's," said Ambrosia. "'Cept Dad's ain't got that skin on it,
on the end. And 'course Dad's is bigger, he's growed up." She noticed that
the skin on the end didn't hardly show, now... now that the whole organ had
gotten bigger. The skin had pulled back.

"That's his forest-skin, dummy," said another girl, older and wiser.
Ambrosia nodded, she'd heard her Mom say that, before. She hesitantly
reached out a finger, and pushed down on the head of Andrew's cock. When
she released it, it popped back up like a little diving board, and all the
kids laughed. She did it again and again, finally just putting her index
and middle finger out, and capturing his cock between them. She shook her
whole hand up and down, causing his cock to bounce wildly.

"Shit, Bro..." said Andrew. He was feeling a funny feeling that he'd never
felt before. Funny, and good. "Keep... keep doin' that..." He felt his
breath catch, as his lung sucked air convulsively. He wanted more of that
feeling. Lots more.

Ambrosia laughed, and jacked her brother's cock. The other kids grew
silent, watching. Somehow they all knew something unusual was taking place.
Andrew groaned, and then clamped it off, embarrassed. Somebody giggled, but
he couldn't help it, he groaned again.

"Does that feel... does that feel good, Andy?" said Ambrosia. Her arm was
getting a little tired, but she didn't want to stop. She loved her brother,
and wanted to make him happy."

"Holy goddam fucking shit!" said Andrew loudly, and a stream of milky white
liquid shot from the end of his cock, and streaked down his sister's leg.
She was shocked, but give the girl some credit, she didn't stop. He
squirted again and again, making up a little puddle in her lap as she sat
on her knees before him.

"Whut 'da fuque?" said a girl, in the silence, as Ambrosia's hand slowed to
a halt.

"Damn, Bro," Andrew panted. "That was... that was cool. Can you do that
again?"

Ambrosia laughed, surveying the sticky stuff on her hand. She lifted it to
her nose and smelled of it. Ambrosia was a big one for smells, and she
liked the smell of this. It smelled... sexy, although she was too young to
understand sexy yet. She just knew what she liked, and she liked this smell.

"Andy..." she said softly, thoughtfully. "Andy... when Mom puts Dad's
weenie in her mouth... this is what she's gettin' outa it... this is why
she wipes her chin an' shit."

That made sense to him, at least. "Yeah," he said. "Prolly. Like I said,
could you do that again?" He was anxious to get that feeling again. It had
burned into his little brain as something very desirable.

"I guess," she finally said, wiping the sticky stuff on her leg. She
reached over and positioned her fingers again, with his now-much-softer
cock in between them. She bounced his cock again, up and down, for the
longest time, but it barely got hard again, much less squirted stuff out.

"Andy," she finally said. "I think that's why Mom and Dad just go to sleep
after they fuck. You can only do it once or somethin'."

"Yeah. Shit," said Andrew, sad. He finally sat back down, and looked
around. The other kids were stirring around, now that the show was over.

"Bro," said Andrew, having an idea. "Bro, do Dennis... do Dennis or Roj, or
one of the other guys."

Ambrosia laughed. She didn't really care, but her arm was tired. She
glanced at Dennis, to see a frown on his face.

"You wanna?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Naw..." he said. "I don'... I don' think we otta be doin' this stuff... I
think it's evil..."

Ambrosia laughed at that. Evil? She didn't even understand the concept of
evil remotely. She was Eve, way before the snake.

"I'll do it..." said Roj, stepping forward. It had looked like fun to him,
and he'd watched through a crack in the wall as his father bounced around
on top of his older sister. He had some ideas now, about what they were
doing.

He duck-walked forward, on his knees. Ambrosia giggled and reached down,
taking his softness in her hands. She did this one differently, she grasped
her hand around it like she was holding it. She gently slid her hand back
and forth, and was satisfied to feel his little penis begin to get bigger.

"You like that?" she asked softly, giggling at him. He smiled back. "Oh
yeah," he said. "That feels good..."

It didn't take long. A jet of white liquid squirted out again, on her belly
this time, since his cock was pointed up slightly. She giggled as the boy
sighed deeply. She could tell it had felt as good for him as for her
brother. This is fun, she thought. This is something I can do to make boys
feel good. I'll remember this.


                              --==+==--


The kids walked home, in the late afternoon sun. They split up back at the
commune, and Amber and Ambrosia smelled dinner cooking as they entered the
yurt. Any day when food was on the table was a good day. Their mom greeted
them, kissing them both and making signs to ward off evil on their
foreheads.

"Ambrosia, honey," she said. "Go get your daddy and tell him dinner is
prepared. And wash your legs, honey, you've got something all over you."

Amber went out the back door, also known as the emergency exit. Her dad was
hoeing in the garden.

She stopped at the outhouse, and washed her legs with water from the
ass-washing bucket. She ran out to where her dad was.

"Daddy," she said, "Momma says dinner's ready. And Daddy... look what I
learned today..."

Her father, Roscoe, was, like I already said, a hippie. He'd been been a
normal, blue-collar kid, raised in a normal home, until he went to college,
and was exposed to the hippie lifestyle. Something about it appealed to
him, and, to his parent's despair, and he dropped off the grid and into a
whole way of life. He'd managed to shake off most of the restrictions and
moral impediments of The System, and now approached things from a whole
different angle. Incest no longer held any fear for him... quite the
contrary, as he looked down on his young daughter. He felt, not for the
first time, a stirring from his loins. And, to his surprise, she reached
beneath his kilt, and wrapped her hot little hands around his
semi-tumescent manhood.

"Darlin'..." he said, his eyes going to the back of the yurt before he
remembered they didn't have windows. "Darlin'... do you think you should
really be doin' that...?"

"Daddy, it's fun... an' it feels good," she said, laughing. Why wouldn't he
want something that felt good? To her, this was no more unusual that what
he and her mother did almost every night.

Roscoe had fears, occasionally, that his wife still possessed some remnants
of societal indoctrination. He had that fear right now, in fact. His
daughters soft little hand felt fantastic on his hardening cock, but he
wasn't too sure about the idea of Marge seeing it.

He guided her towards the outhouse, stopping when it blocked the view from
the back door. Her hand had never left his cock. And his cock was hard,
now, hard from just thinking about what she might have planned. The
possibilities were... limitless. He raised his kilt a little higher,
holding it with both hands.

"Darlin'... show me," he said softly. She showed him.


                              --==+==--


We won't say Roscoe wasn't pleased by what happened... he got a damn good
hand job, from an eleven year old soon-to-be-expert... he had, secretly,
hoped for a little more. Her little mouth looked so inviting... and those
sexy fat red lips... well, he thought, this is more than I got out of bed
with this morning. And, maybe it's a first step. Maybe there will be more,
more to come. He decided to just go with the flow. Time will tell, he
thought.

That night at dinner, Andrew had some questions.

"Mom," he said, as he helped himself to a second bowl of raccoon stew.
"Somethin' funny happen' today. My... my weenie got all stiff, an' some
white stuff came outa it. Is there somethin' wrong with me?"

No idea why he'd brought it up. Maybe he was proud of it, maybe he wanted
his parents to know he was now a man. Couldn't be that, he didn't think of
himself as a man, yet. Surely he didn't think something was actually wrong
with him. Kids say funny stuff sometimes, and they also approach reality
from whole different angles than adults. Anyway, it had a positive effect
of dinnertime conversation.

"Oh, darling!" his mother gushed. "My little boy is a man now! Roscoe, did
you hear? Your son is a man!"

Roscoe smiled and nodded his congratulations to the boy. Good, his dick
works. Marge hugged Andrew. Ambrosia laughed silently to herself, and was
secretly relieved that Andrew hadn't told the whole story. She was
innocent, but not stupid.

"Honey!" said his mom, gratifying Roscoe at last with her true-blue
hippieness. "Honey, show us! Do whatever you did to make it stiff!"

She had no idea, of course, that his little sister had been jacking him,
she thought he'd discovered masturbation by himself. She sat back, and
waited expectantly. Andrew experienced stage fright, for the first time in
his life. He squirmed uncomfortably and looked to his sister for help. She
was no help, she just grinned at him. She was thinking, don't look at me,
you got yourself into this.

"Roscoe..." Marge stared at her husband. She knew he was frighteningly
liberal, he was what she hoped to be someday. This will be a good start,
she thought. "Roscoe... would it bother you... if I helped him a little?"

Oh fuck, thought Roscoe. He knew well what her help would consist of, she
often asked him if she could help, when he wasn't getting hard quick
enough. And she had those same fat, full red lips... must be a family thing.

"Of course not, darling!" he said, already brimming with ideas of how this
would assist him in his new-found closeness to his darling daughter. This
couldn't be working out any better, he thought. He had, of course,
immediately put two and two together, with his daughter's new-found skill
at hand jobs, and his son's new-found ability to ejaculate. Hippie that he
was, it didn't bother him a bit.

Marge leaned forward, urging Andrew to stand, and slid his shorts down his
slender tanned legs. Inside her mind, she was amazed at herself, that she
had the nerve to go through with this. It never occurred to her to wonder
what effect this might have on impressionable young minds. Marge was more
of a hippie than she thought she was.

Andrew's poor little cock was shriveled up, the cap buried deep inside his
foreskin. His little wrinkled balls looked so cute... she gently took them
with her hand. She loved balls, almost as much as cocks. I'll suck those
balls, she thought, before this is over with.

She gently sucked the boy into her mouth. Ambrosia met Andrew's gaze, and
rolled her eyes. He smiled. This was way better than he'd hoped, when he'd
brought it up. He just thought he'd get a pat on the back or something.
This? He'd seen his mom do this to his dad enough times... he'd seen the
look on his dad's face, when the fast part came up. He knew it was going to
be fun.

Ambrosia watched for a while, as Andrew's little pecker got bigger and
bigger. Her mom sucked, and stopped and looked at it, then sucked again.
Each time it was a little bigger and a little redder. She was surprised at
how much fun her mom seemed to be getting, from just sucking. Did it taste
that good? Was stuff coming out of it already that tasted good? She wished
she'd tasted that white stuff, earlier. Maybe it tasted better than candy
or something.

Her mom slid Andrew's cock from her mouth, and bent down further, sucking
his sweet little balls into her warm wet mouth. His weenie looked funny to
Ambrosia, laying on the bridge of her mom's nose, and she giggled. This was
interesting, but... she finally had enough of just watching.

"Mom..." she said. Her mother said "Mmmph," not opening her eyes. Ambrosia
tugged again on her mom's arm.

"Mom!"

"What, honey!" said her Mom, dropping Andrew's cock for a second. "Can't
you see I'm busy?"

"Mom. Can I do that to dad?" Ambrosia said. The last remnants of The System
fled from Marge Santiago's mind. "Sure, honey!" she said. Actually, it
sounded more like "Mmmm Hmmm-mmm" because her mouth was back to sucking
lustily on her son's pint-sized cock. Ambrosia got the message, though.

Roscoe was more than pleased by this turn of events. His daughter turned to
him, raising her eyebrows in question. He smiled gently at her and nodded.
What a sweet young thing she was. And now she was all his. That mouth, he
thought... fuck heaven, that mouth.

This time he dropped his kilt as he stood, instead of merely raising it.
His cock was already half-hard, before Ambrosia ever got her hands on it.
She stood before him, in her sexy little swimsuit, and grasped his cock
firmly with both hands. She stared at it for a moment, noting the
difference between adult and child... she actually hadn't looked at
Andrew's that closely, this morning. This one was pretty interesting
looking, what with blood veins and wiry little hairs all around it. And
those ball things. She delicately curled one hand around those fat, round
balls. How cute they were! She leaned in.

Roscoe was already holding it back. How would he manage, how could he keep
from filling her mouth up? Would she be ready for that? Did she even know
that was part of the deal? He knew, though... he knew by now there was no
way he could keep from it. He just hoped she wouldn't choke or gag. He felt
a little bit of heaven on earth as her soft lips gently touched the shaft
of his cock. She got it about half-way in before she stopped, and he
realized she didn't really know what to do from there.

"Suck it, honey," he said softly, glancing at his wife. She seemed
oblivious to the world, her cheeks caving in as she slid her young son's
cock in and out of her mouth. He shared a quick guy moment with his son,
and winked at the boy. Andrew giggled. Roscoe looked down at the top of his
daughter's head, and loved her even harder. She was sucking, now, sucking
pretty hard, for a kid. She slid it out to the cap, weirdly, and ran her
lips around it like a pro. Where did that come from? he thought for a
moment. Like I said earlier, sometimes kids do weird things. Sometimes
those things feel good... this was one of those times.

"Holy goddam fucking shit!" said Andrew loudly, causing his mother to choke
for an instant, then recover as his strong young prostate blasted wad after
wad of cum down her throat. She gulped in time with his contractions, and
milked him dry. He tasted wonderful to her, fresh and sweet, as sweet as
warm milk straight from a cow's udder. She sucked every last drop, wishing
for more. Oh, she thought... give him a few hours... and we'll do this
again. She wondered how soon she could do it again, without looking obvious
to her husband. Maybe, she thought... maybe he'll still be wrapped up in
Ambrosia, maybe it won't matter to him what I do with the boy.

Roscoe laughed softly, his pleasure mounting as his daughter sucked him yet
a little deeper into her hot, soft throat. The girl was fabulous... and her
mouth, her mouth was almost tight, like he imagined her sweet young cunt
might be. Her cunt... his mouth watered as he thought about her sweet young
cunt. Dare I hope? he thought. Dare I fucking hope?

Marge sat back, and smiled up at her son. She wanted to kiss him, but she
wasn't sure how he'd react to her semen-flavored breath. She hugged him,
and lay her head against his belly for a few moments. He touched her head,
and ran his fingers through her hair. Nothing is wrong that we do for love,
she told herself, nothing. She sighed and held him.

"Honey," said Roscoe softly, taking Ambrosia's chin his his hand and
lifting slightly. She looked up at him as well as she could without
dropping his cock from her mouth. Good girl, he thought. "Honey, some
liquid is going to squirt into your mouth. Don't be afraid, just swallow
it... it is... darling, it is the precious fluid of life. It's millions of
your little... uhm..." He started to say "your little unborn brothers and
sisters" but he didn't want her to freak out about swallowing them. "It's
yummy little drops of life!" he finished lamely. He'd have to come up with
a little better line, for next time. Of course, he had already decided, of
course there's gonna be a next time.

Ambrosia nodded. She was figuring this stuff out, in her own time. She'd
seen the stuff squirt out of Andrew this afternoon. She knew what was next.
And she kind of looked forward to it, truth be known. She had high hopes
that it was tasty... and hell, why not? Her dad had just said it was yummy.

Roscoe's adult prostate gave a mighty clench, and squirt he did. He filled
her mouth in two squirts, she hadn't figured out the squirt-swallow thing
yet. He filled her and it spilled down her chin onto her flat little chest.
He squirted quite a bit for an old fart, he was pretty damn turned on, and
it showed. He squirted so much his balls almost caved in, but damn... it
felt good to him. And the sexy factor was off the scale. How can I top
this? he thought. Then he remembered that sweet young cunt... Yeah... I
know how...

She couldn't really taste it, until he'd stopped, and she slowed and
finally dropped his softening cock from her young mouth. She puzzled for a
moment... this? This is what it's all about? It certainly wasn't yummy, by
any stretch... kinda bitter, and kinda musty tasting... come again? she
thought, unaware of how funny that would be to an adult. This is it? She
was disappointed, but still... it was still sexy, to her. She didn't
understand sexy, hell, who does... she didn't understand it, but... she
knew what she liked. Yummy or not, she liked the taste of cum. Not like she
liked candy, but she liked it.

Marge held her son, her son who was now a man, and watched her daughter
blow her husband. Somewhere, deep in her mind, the old Marge screamed a
silent scream behind a sheet of glass. The new Marge suddenly blasted the
old Marge into sub-atomic oblivion. The family group was now complete.
Unity had been achieved.


                              --==+==--


Nothing else happened, that evening. Everything was pretty anti-climactic,
after that. Marge hummed and knitted, happy. Roscoe hummed and carved,
happy. Ambrosia and Andrew crept out and played with other kids, happy. At
last, around midnight, their dad went to the door and called them in. The
whole bunch of them piled into the mound of blankets and cushions they
called a bed, and soon were pretty much all happily asleep. The adults, at
least.

"Andrew..." said Ambrosia, whispering in her brother's ear.

"What, Bro..." he replied.

"You want... you want me to do it?"

He didn't have to ask what "it" was. He sighed, happy. "Yeah," he said.
"Yeah."


                              --==+==--


The next few days went by in a dream. Marge still got up and fixed
breakfast, and woke the rest of the family. They ate, the kids studied for
a while... they had to pretend, at least, since they were home-schooling...
Marge fed them lunch, and turned them loose. They ran wild, with other kids
sometimes, and by themselves sometimes. The kids were home by dark, and the
family settled into their new routine. Marge gently drew Andrew to her, and
engulfed his hardening softness in her mouth. Sometimes Ambrosia dropped to
her knees and poked her head up beneath her father's kilt... sometimes he
pulled it off for her. One night he decided to show her something new, as
the quiet evening was broken by slurping noises from her mother.

"Honey..." Roscoe said. "You've given me great pleasure, darling, and I
want to give something back to you. Lay down, child, lay down." He
indicated the pile of blankets in the middle of the yurt. She lay down,
curious about what he meant. She knew by now that what adults said hardly
ever matched what they actually did. She was a little suspicious, but
still... he was her dad. She mostly trusted him.

Today had been unseasonably warm, and both the kids had spent the entire
day nude. Ambrosia had spent a fun hour with Mr. Dyer, from the nudist
family the next yurt over. He'd given her rides in his wheelbarrow,
thoughtfully holding a foot in each hand to steady her. Later he'd
carefully examined her body in detail for twenty minutes to make sure she
didn't have any ticks or fleas on her. His weenie had even gotten big and
stiff, causing him to take her behind the yurt where his wife wasn't. She'd
wondered if he might want her to put it in her mouth, but she didn't want
to be rude, so she kept her mouth shut. Or maybe it was because he was an
old fart, I'm not a mind reader, it's all guesses at this point.

Anyway, all that was basically just to say she was naked. He lay her naked
body down, and spread her legs apart, crouching inbetween them. He hadn't
asked his wife if this was okay with her, he didn't feel the need. He was
just going to do to the girl what she was doing to the boy. If... and if
she didn't figure this one out on her own he'd mention it... if she wanted
to teach the kid to eat pussy, that was fine with him. She was on her own.
He had other things on his mind.

He bent down, and took his first deep sniff of the child's sweet cunt.
God... she smelled better than anything in his life had, so far. He could
see a dampness already, in the red slit between her legs... the nectar of
the gods... he breathed again through his nose, and again. There is nothing
like odor of a young cunt, a sweet virginal untouched young cunt... well,
maybe I'm being melodramatic... still, it's a beautiful smell. Try it...
you'll like it. He sucked in air until he felt dizzy.

His tongue was almost as hard as his cock, at this stage. He dropped an
inch further, and another. His tongue was extended. He raised his eyes as
far up as they would go, to see her staring down at him, perplexed. He
carefully closed and opened one eye, in a slow motion wink, and she
giggled. He dropped.

The smell. The smell, you say? Fuck that, the taste. The taste was
incredible. There is no way to describe it. How can you describe pussy,
other than to say "pussy?" What is the taste of pussy? Mysterious body
secretions, sweat, possibly a little dirt from running around all day
naked... more body secretions from deep inside... a few microscopic blobs
of fertilizer (read: shit) from Mr. Dyer's wheelbarrow... it's hard to put
a list of ingredients on it. Elusive, indefinable... but we know it when we
taste it. You never forget pussy. Even old farts who haven't had their
carnal desires satisfied in thirty or more years remember what pussy tastes
like. Even I do, for god's sake.

Roscoe's tongue was easy to satisfy. He loved his wife's cooking, that
should tell you he wasn't a connoisseur. He loved his wife's pussy, and I
gotta hand it to her, she had a nice one. Kinda hairy, but nice. This
little thing, though, so soft and smooth, so completely bare of even peach
fuzz... and that taste, on top of it all? That bare-all-day,
wind-and-weather sexy taste... sweaty and even a hint of poop from her
little asshole, barely an inch away... something inside him was born, a
hunger, that could only be satisfied one way. A thoughtful part of his
brain, usually carefully hidden away, realized how rare this was, how
short-lived. Even if he got it again tomorrow and the next day... all to
soon she'd grow up and away from him... how could he go back, how could he
bend his face to Marge's tangled bush, and be happy? Something cried, at
the same time that something else gibbered in joy. Life and the human
experience is all about contradictions... contradictions, urges and
unsatisfied longings... okay, forget the philosophy crap. Life is pussy,
and Roscoe drank deeply from the cup of life that day. He was happy, as
happy as he'd ever been.

He tongued her little clit, and she sighed and melted. He'd been right,
this time... he'd said he was going to give her pleasure, and he certainly
did. She felt twinges in the backs of her legs, and her stomach tightened
up... her breathing sped up, and her arms twitched in a funny way. She just
let go, and enjoyed it. As long as he wanted to do this, she'd let him. She
felt his tongue enter her body... it didn't hurt, but it felt funny... good
funny... she giggled and he lifted her small body, spreading her legs even
further, and she felt his tongue on her bottom. On my poopy hole! she
thought, laughing to herself. She'd seen him do that very thing to her mom,
her mom's rump sticking up in the air. It didn't bother her, she was just a
kid and she didn't give a fuck about germs. He was first and foremost a
hippie, and secondly so in love with the child he would have probably
kissed a turd if she pooped one out. He made love to her aromatic little
asshole with his lips and tongue, drinking in her taste, reveling in it.

This could go on a lot longer, but I hope I've gotten the idea across. He
loved her, and loved her sweet cunt and fabulous little asshole. Marge and
Andrew had finished up by now, and were watching the couple with some
perplexity. They felt what the kids had felt the other day, that something
momentous was happening, but they didn't really understand it. An idea,
though... an idea sparked into being, in Marge's head.

"Honey..." she said, wrapping her arms around Andrew, squeezing him to her
naked body, rubbing her hard nipples across his thin, wiry chest. "Do
you... do you maybe wanna try that? "

He didn't understand, he thought she meant what they'd just done, an adult
giving a child pleasure. He didn't understand how the roles would be
reversed, and she wondered if he'd be willing to work hard at something
with so little reward, other than the knowledge he was giving her pleasure.

"Darling," she said, "I mean... do you want to lick me? Down there? Have
you ever wondered what a woman tastes like?"

Actually, he hadn't. He'd seen his dad do it, to her... but it hadn't
clicked, since they'd started this new phase in their relationships... he
hadn -(TM)t really wondered, no, what a woman tasted like. Maybe... he thought
the same thing that Ambrosia had thought... the way Dad goes after it,
maybe it tastes pretty damn good. He nodded slowly, at last. Marge was
pleased.

She lay beside her daughter, on the pile of blankets, and spread her legs
apart. Her sweet young son nestled inbetween her strong limbs, and ever so
slowly drew nearer and nearer to the vagina that he'd popped out of,
roughly eleven years ago. He regretted his choice now, the closer to it he
got... it was kind of scarey looking, all matted with curly black hair...
pink parts of it stuck out, and his mother reached down, and with her
fingers, spread it apart. It was really pink then, pink and red... there
were bumps here and there and holes and things... he suppressed a grimace.
He was a boy of his word, though, and with a trembling heart he extended
his tongue, as a glance to the side showed him his father was doing to his
sister. The last inch took fifteen seconds, but at last his tongue touched
his mother, his earth mother, his giver of life.

It wasn't that bad... it was unusual, it was something he'd never tasted
before, but it wasn't that bad. He licked a little harder, and followed a
crease of her skin down a bit. Spicy... tangy, maybe... he didn't have the
vocabulary to accurately describe it... like Ambrosia, though, he knew what
he liked. It didn't take him long to decide he liked this. With a little
more enthusiasm he slurped his way back up the crease.

"Oh yes," Marge sighed. "Lick Mommy's clit, honey, stay on Mommy's clit!"
He had no idea what a clit was, in spite of examining his sister on more
than one occasion, but he knew how his mom reacted when he got to that
certain spot. He stayed on it, and was surprised at what she did. She
bounced around, her legs twitched and locked around his back, and her hands
scrabbled on top of his head. He heard a funny noise, and turned his eyes
to the side, wondering what was up with his sister.

Roscoe had succeeded, after a struggle, in getting his little girl to cum.
It had taken a while, for reasons unknown, but at last she'd relaxed and
had a nice almost-adult orgasm, locking her legs and breathing deeply,
moaning with pleasure. Roscoe was proud... he loved making his wife cum,
and to do it for this little girl... he got about as much pleasure as she
did from it. He mashed his face into her crotch a little harder, one hand
spreading her pussy lips to expose her clit completely, the other hand
stroking his iron cock. Roscoe hadn't jacked off in years... he didn't need
to, since he'd married Marge... but this time was special. He wanted to
cum, he wanted to cum with this girl on the end of his tongue. And he was
almost there.

Mother and daughter finished their orgasms, totally satisfied. Father and
son kept on going, hoping for more. Eventually more happened, Ambrosia was
much quicker this time, now that she had a feel for it. She pounded the bed
with her feet, peed a little in her father's face, and came like a volcano.
Marge had a gentler softer one, but still fulfilling. She caressed her
sweet son's head, as he nestled on her stomach, smiling to himself. He did
feel like a man, now, now that he'd made his mother so happy. He felt like
a good son.

Roscoe felt like a good father, knowing his daughter had lovingly given her
orgasmic virginity to him. He cherished it, as he would her hymenical
virginity, when that time came. His future, cloudy at best, was now rosy
and as wide as the universe. He knew it wasn't for forever, but what is?
You gotta seize the moment, you gotta strike while the iron is hot, and all
those other crazy one-liners. He grunted as he pumped load after load of
hot sperm into the pile of bedclothes and onto his daughter's foot. His
tongue was still on the girl's hard little clit and his whole world was
nothing but her taste.

What does the future hold, for this unlikely group? Unlikely hell, they are
about as likely as they can get, considering the hippie mentality that
created them. Anyway, you figure that shit out. I've done my part.


                              --==+==--


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IF YOU DIDN'T LIKE IT. THANKS FOR READING.
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