
Re-Union
by Lubrican

Chapter One
 
When I was in college, they had this program called the Little Sister Program.  The idea was that all the Frat brothers would put their names on a list to sponsor a Freshman girl, who was called their "little sister".  What was supposed to happen was that they guy would kind of look out for her, show her around, acquaint her with the campus, and maybe introduce her to a couple of "approved" guys, to go on a date or two.  It was probably a good idea when it was first thought up, back in 1947 or something like that, when college guys had some morals, and values and all that stuff.   Whoever had let it go on into the seventies was a moron.  It was supposed to protect the girls ... not expose them to guys like me.
 
But, when I went to college in the seventies, it was still going.  There had been a little twist thrown into the deal, in the last ten years or so.  What that was that we didn't sign up, exactly.  If you did that, you got the luck of the draw, when some administrator paired names up.
 
Instead, us guys hung around Freshman orientation, and scoped out the babes, like wolves scoping out the flock of unsuspecting sheep.  Freshman orientation had the spiel about being a little sister in it, and the girls ... at least the ones who bought into the spiel, still signed up.  But any good looking girl was approached by a prospective "big brother" days before any pairing of names went on.
 
What you did was go up to a Freshman girl and say something smooth like "I'm in Tau Delta, and I didn't get a chance to sign up for a little sister.  It's a rough transition, from High School to college, and I'd like to make it a little easier for you.  Would you be interested, possibly, in being my little sister?"
 
Now you have to understand the dynamic going on here.   Here was little Susie, who had been a big fish, in a little pond, suddenly immersed in a student body of six thousand, instead of maybe eight hundred.  That, in itself made their nipples tingle.  They felt small and helpless.  And attention from an "older man" was every girl's dream.   Who wanted to hang around a boring, immature boy the same age as you were, when you could bask in the glow of an experienced Fraternity Brother, who knew everything, and was so handsome?
 
Hell, you didn't even have to actually BE handsome, as long as you talked a good line, and dressed well.   The other thing was that us Frat brothers had a house to live in, with a room that wasn't being patrolled by a Dorm Resident Assistant.  If a Freshman girl hung around with a Freshman guy, they had to leave the door open, and all that horse shit.
 
The dynamic from our point of view, was that we loved it when little Susie felt small and helpless, and needed her strong, handsome big brother to take care of her.  Of course, from our point of view, higher education involved sexual education as well.
 
It wasn't that none of us had any morals.  Actually, I'd say eighty percent of the girls got a guy who actually did give a shit what happened to the girl.  If she had a brain in her head, she'd be a little wary, and talk a lot, before agreeing to do anything.  If they talked to older girls, they were well warned of what to be careful of.  If, on top of that, they actually read the guidelines for what little sister/big brother relationships were SUPPOSED to be like, then they rarely fell prey to the wolf.
 
But, of course, there were always the other twenty percent. 
 
Those were the ones my Frat Brothers and I tried to cut from the herd.

===================================================


In seventy-eight, when I was a Junior, I hit pay dirt.   Her name was Heather, and she came from a small town, where everybody knew everybody else, and trusted them, within reason.  Heather was a good Catholic girl, which meant she'd done a ton of necking and groping, behind this or that door, or bush, but that was all.   She'd never been naked with a boy, though it was quite likely that her luscious pink nipples, which I became so familiar with, had been tweaked before I ever did so.  All things considered, though, she was as innocent as slightly polluted snow.
 
She was five feet five inches, exactly, in her bare feet, which made her on the small side.  Her body thought it was supposed to be six inches taller.  She had breasts and hips that, on a body six inches taller, would have been classified as  brick shit-house quality.  On her diminutive frame, it was just mind-boggling.  She had long, chestnut colored hair, that probably hadn't been cut since she was eight, and an open and friendly face, with a wide smile, and engaging, friendly eyes that she used to stare right at you.  She was fairly intelligent, and very curious, and she had moved to the big city, where an honest to Pete college Junior had taken an interest in her on the very first day she set foot on campus.
 
To put it in erotic story language ... her very pink nipples were very erect, and tingling like crazy, when she said she'd love to be my little sister.

===================================================


There was an art to the seduction of a little sister.   You spent the first week in a hands-off posture, to impress on her brain that you weren't just a masher, aching to get his hands on her precious body.  Even if she'd fucked around in High School, you took it nice and slow.  In High School, she might have fucked once a month.  The goal here was to have her lying naked in your bed any time you walked in the room.  You wanted her to go to class, and you wanted her to study, because you wanted her to come back next year, so you could fuck her brains out then too.  That required that you build up to things so that she fell in love with you.  Well, actually, a good solid crush was good enough, as long as it led to getting to lie between her silky, milk-white thighs.
 
My problem was that I hadn't gotten one of "those" little sisters, the year before, when I snagged my very first one.  I'd gotten one who had a boyfriend back home who she wrote to three times a day, and talked about to me endlessly.  She wouldn't even THINK of going out with anybody at College, not even me, when I tried the line of "I'll teach you how to behave in a college social situation."  She said it would be "cheating" on Brad.
 
So, there I was with Heather, who was aching to make her first college guy friend, and bask in his attention.  She wasn't quite sure what kind of attention that was supposed to be, but it just about had to be like her Uncle Rodney treated her, back home, where he gave her sage advice, and warnings about men and all that stuff.  After all, her Uncle Rodney didn't try to get into her panties, and I was older, like him.
 
Right?
 
I managed to get through the first week by just sitting and listening as she blabbed endlessly about back home, and her brothers, who were little and her sister, Babs, who would be coming to college the next year.  She talked about her father's business, and her mother's volunteer work, and her fricking dog.  And all the time she was doing this, I was watching her soft lips move, and her gleaming white teeth flashed at me, and her baby blue eyes got misty as she talked about how she'd had to bury her hamster only a week before she went to college.   Those knockout tits of hers had me rock hard within seconds of her coming into my room, or even if I met her for coffee, which all the other guys recommended doing at least three times a week.   
 
By the end of that first week I was a basket case.   Two of my frat brothers had already started making out with their little sisters, and I had yet to even touch Heather's hand gently, while staring soulfully into her eyes.   That was something else the older guys recommended.
 
Well, what happened was something I didn't plan on.  I was in ROTC, and I had been at a dinner where there was this crusty old Colonel who had fought in WW II, in command of a battalion of artillery.   I had sat next to this guy, and he was really interesting, so I didn't have any trouble paying attention to him as he told stories about what it had been like.  Viet Nam was still a sore spot in the society, but WW II was the stuff of heroes.  Well, he invited me over to his big old Spanish stucco house, and I got to see all his mementos.  He had cancer, and was always having to go somewhere to get a treatment, and he asked me to take care of his house while he was away doing that one time.  I guess I did OK at it, because he asked me to do that every time he left from then on.
 
So, suddenly, I had access to a very private little place where I could take a girl and we wouldn't be interrupted by roughhousing frat brothers, or guys poking their heads into my room to see if I was feeling Heather up yet, and stuff like that.  So I told Heather she should come over there to the Colonel's house to study one Friday night, while I house sat for him.  I told her it was quiet, and she'd study better.
 
She thought that was a great idea, and when she got there, and I gave her the grand tour, and showed her all his shit, she thought that was the most romantic stuff she had ever seen.  Her grandfather had been in the war, but didn't talk about it much, I guess.
 
She also let me feed her sloe gin fizzes, which I characterized as a lady's drink, upon which it was impossible to get even tipsy, much less drunk.
 
It turned out she couldn't hold her liquor worth a damn.
 
By nine-thirty I had her naked, trying on old WW II uniforms that were three sizes too big for her.   
 
By ten I had her in a bathtub, washing off the sloe gin fizz she had spilled all over her when I stuck my hand between her legs.  I sat behind her, and spent twenty minutes on her breasts, and those lovely, tingling pink nipples of hers, with my boner pressed against her buttocks.
 
By eleven I had my four Moody Blues LPs stacked up and playing on the record player, while we writhed on the bed, naked, trying to eat each other's lips off.  She purely loved my fingers in her, and she went crazy when I sucked at her nipples, but she resisted getting my dick in her with uncanny success.  She never demanded that I let her go, or take her home, or anything like that.   When I sucked her pussy, she'd lie there moaning for an hour straight, but if I moved up and tried to hide my sausage in her bun, she'd writhe and buck, and wiggle out from under me with a skill that suggested she'd dated a whole string of wrestlers in High School.
 
What undid her was that she really liked those sloe gin fizzes.
 
There came a time when she went limp, and stayed that way.  She was breathing, which was the only thing I cared about, just then, so I cocked her knees by her ears, slotted my prick between what turned out to be her virgin pussy lips, and with entirely too much gusto, slipped her some dick.
 
She gave out a low moan as she was deflowered, and then went back to being limp.
 
Well, I had been denied for hours, which might be why I may have overdone it a little bit.  That, and the fact that I didn't last but about a minute, before I blew my wad deep in her belly.   She was more than half passed out ... but I wasn't.
 
There she was, lying there naked, with my cum oozing from her pussy.  Within half an hour I was ready for seconds, so I fucked her again.  She was so warm and slippery inside, and I was getting to do something I hadn't gotten to do all that often.  Always before, things had been done in a hurry, for fear of being caught, but now I was able to slip and slide for a long time.  She made a lot of little sounds, and every once in a while her body wiggled, or went rigid, and I thought she was having orgasms, so I just kept going until I dumped another huge load of spunk in her beautiful, hot pussy.
 
About three in the morning, I'd guess, when I was fucking that lovely pussy for the fourth time, she started fucking back.  I lucked out, in so much as that, as she sobered up, it took her a while to figure out what she was feeling, and by the time she was sober enough to understand exactly what was going on, her pussy had decided that it wasn't sore any more, and that it really liked being reamed out.  She was, it turned out, a very pragmatic and passionate girl.
 
There were no tears or screaming over her lost maidenhead.  She HAD been saving it for the love of her life - make no doubt about that - and I DID have to pay a price for taking it, later on ... but that part is for later.
 
By eight in the morning, she was the one waking ME up, to get fucked again.

===================================================


Heather was, as I said, fairly intelligent.   She didn't delude herself that, because she let me fuck her all day Saturday, she was in love with me, or that I was in love with her.  She just decided that it was too late to do anything about it, and that, seeing as how she loved doing it, she might as well ... do it.
 
On the other hand, after that Saturday, I was never in charge of Heather again.  She was, after all, a good Catholic girl.  That meant she wasn't on the pill, and wasn't going to GO on the pill, and THAT meant that, for ten days each month, I wasn't allowed to lay so much as a single finger on her.   She started dating guys which, I am embarrassed to admit, I had nothing whatsoever to do with choosing ... or recommending ... or anything else a big brother was supposed to do.  I did show her around campus, and she did come to my room to study sometimes, but I only got my dick wet when she said I could get my dick wet.
 
This is not to say that I rarely got my dick wet.  No siree.  Not at all.  I got my dick wet almost every night that she didn't think she was fertile.  She wouldn't fuck the guys she went out with.  That was something a good Catholic girl didn't do.  She didn't go around having promiscuous sex.  But I was different.  I wasn't just some guy she was dating.  I was her big brother.  I had taken from her, the priceless gift that she could no longer offer the man she was going to marry, whoever he was, and so mine was the only penis she would contemplate letting into her horny pussy, where it spurted with great regularity.
 
On fertile days, she never even came near me.  She said it was because she couldn't control herself around me, but that was bullshit.  We had sex when SHE wanted to have sex.  I was just lucky that was a lot.
 
Whenever the Colonel had me house sit, as long as she wasn't fertile, she came over and fucked me half to death.
 
That was basically my Junior year.   I actually got better grades that year, because I wasn't dangling ten girls on a string, trying to get into their panties and all that stuff.  When I wasn't fucking Heather, I studied.  It was hard not to, since she was studying right there with me.  She'd get there, lock the door, get naked, get fucked, and then put her clothes back on and study.  Sometimes she'd give me a good night fuck, before she left.  If I pissed her off, she'd use her mouth on me, and leave me high and dry, so I'd have to finish myself off while she stood there and watched.  She didn't say mean things to me or anything like that.  She just made it clear that if she wasn't happy about something ... I probably wouldn't be happy either.

===================================================


She went home for semester break, and I stayed at school, because my folks lived to far away, and it was too expensive to go home.  She never called once, and she didn't write me a letter or anything.
 
She came back three days early.  There were only two other guys in the house, so we had lots of privacy.   On the day she got back, she fucked me for two hours straight.  She was insatiable.  I bet she had twenty-five orgasms that day, and begged me to cum in her at least three times.   She spent the night with me, in my bed, and by the next morning I walked like an old man.   She spent the next two days with me too, and then I didn't see her for ten days.  
 
She'd come back early just to be able to fuck me, before she got fertile.

===================================================


Second semester was pretty much the same as first semester was.  When summer came, and she said she was going home to work at her dad's store, I didn't know whether to be relieved, that I was going to get some rest, or whether I should panic, because I wasn't going to get any pussy all summer.  Don't ask me why, but the active pursuit of other women, for the purposes of getting my dick wet, had just fallen off to nothing.   There was no commitment between us.  We weren't even really dating or anything.  I took her out to eat once in a while, but so did all the big brothers.  She was dating other guys, but never got serious with any of them.  All I seemed to be, to her, was a ready penis, that spurted on command.

===================================================


Summer turned out to be OK, because I got this job that paid really good, and I had to work a lot of overtime.  I saved up a bunch of money, and was too tired to worry about my balls exploding.
 
I got exactly one letter from Heather, around the end of July.  I stared at that letter many times.  It said:  "I can't wait to get back to my big brother.  I know that some guys get a new little sister every year, but don't you even think about it.  I have everything under control."

===================================================


I was coming out of the shower when I saw her.  She looked good, as usual, standing there in shorts and a tank top.  I had a towel around my waist, and my hair was messed up from being toweled dry.
 
"Bobby," said Heather, her voice low.  "I couldn't wait to see you, so I just came on in.  I hope you don't mind."
 
I didn't mind. I'd been manufacturing spunk and saving it up for her all summer.  But, at the moment, I was looking at who was with her.   I suppose there was a little resemblance, maybe in the nose and eyes.  That was all, though.  The girl who was with her was four or five inches taller, platinum blond, and more modestly built than Heather.
 
"This is my sister, Babs," said Heather.  "I told  you about her last year."
 
"Uh ... yeah," I said.  "I remember.  Um ... hi." I said to Babs.
 
She smiled at me, but didn't say anything.
 
"Babs is going to room with me," said Heather.  "I told her you'd be her big brother."
 
I stared at her.  What the hell did THIS mean?
 
"OK," I said, as pleasantly as I could, with a dry mouth, and only a towel on.
 
"We're going to go move into the dorm," said Heather.  "When we're done, you can take us out to dinner, and show Babs around."
 
"OK!" I said, trying to sound a little more enthusiastic.
 
"Go on down to the car, Babs," said Heather.  "I'll be there in a minute."
 
"OK," said the girl.  She had a soft voice.  She walked like she was trying not to make too much noise, or something.
 
"Hands off her," said Heather.  "OK?"
 
"Sure," I said.  "It's good to see you again."
 
"I hope you missed me," she said, stepping closer, but not touching me.  "I'm so horny I could just about croak."
 
"What about her?" I asked.
 
"You let me worry about her.  You just be a good big brother to her ... the kind of big brother you SHOULD have been to me."
 
"All right," I said.  I had, technically, raped this girl, and she hadn't ruined my life for it.  I owed her, really, as odd as that sounds.
 
Then she took off my towel.  She wasn't wearing any panties, and her shorts didn't take long to get off.  I must have given her a full pint of sperm that time, while she whined under me how much she'd missed me all summer.   
 
Then she bounced up out of bed, got dressed, and went off to move into the dorm with her sister, while my sperm soaked into her womb.

===================================================


I did take them out to dinner, and I was a good big brother.  Heather said she had some things to do, and for me to show Babs around, and make sure she got back to the dorm OK.   I did all that, and found out Babs was a pretty sharp girl.
 
"My sister thinks the sun rises and sets on you," she said, as I walked her to a couple of the buildings I knew she'd be taking classes in.
 
"I don't know about that," I said, trying to be modest.
 
"She says she's not going to marry anybody unless they compare well to you." Babs was looking at me like I wasn't anything very special to look at.
 
"I'm honored," I said.
 
"I asked her why she wasn't going to marry you," said Babs.
 
I think I got a bug in my throat, because I had a heck of a coughing attack.
 
She went on, when I calmed down.  "She laughed. Can you believe that?  She laughed and said you weren't husband material."
 
I blinked.  What the hell did that mean?
 
"So why does she think you're the best man on the planet, if you aren't husband material?"  Babs was confused.
 
"I have no idea," I said.  "I thought we were pretty good friends. I didn't know she was comparing all men to me."
 
"Well, she is.  I hope you're not taking advantage of her."
 
I had another coughing attack.
 
"You should see a doctor.  You don't smoke, do you?"  Babs said that like she'd be very disappointed if the man the sun rose and set on might be flawed in that way.
 
I shook my head.  
 
She looked around.  "This place is really pretty.  I think I'm going to like it here.  Heather said you might be able to introduce me to some nice guys."
 
"Sure thing," I said.  "Most of them aren't here yet, but they'll start coming in any day now.  Freshmen get here sooner than the rest of us."
 
I was hedging.  I knew that they guys who came back early were forming the wolf pack, and would be hunting for a poor lost sheep, just like Babs.  I'd have to be careful she didn't run into any of them before I could find her a safe date or two.
 
I dropped her off at her room, and went back to the frat house, where I found a very naked, very horny Heather in my bed.  She said she could only stay an hour, because she didn't want to leave Babs alone too long.  
 
She managed to get three loads of my spunk in her pussy in that one hour.  It was going to be an interesting year.

===================================================


Over the next week I helped Babs get around. She wanted to try out to be a cheerleader, and I took her to tryouts.  She was good. She'd been on the squad all four years of High School, and was very confident, and very skilled.  She made the first cut, and I could see why.  She had a sexiness to her that Heather would never have, mostly because she was slimmer, with longer legs and was more outgoing.  Heather was a sex machine, and whatever man she married would be a very happy, very worn out guy.  Babs, on the other hand, knew she was sexy, and she held men at a very long arm's length, something she'd learned to do in High School.
 
While Babs kept making the cuts, and attended cheerleader's workouts, her sister lay beneath me, lunging her naked pussy up onto my rampant prick, and getting bellyfuls of my spunk in her unprotected womb.  I did find a couple of serious guys, who weren't the same kind of cockhound I was, and set Babs up with them.  She said she had a good time, and thanked me.
 
We were two weeks into the term when Heather said she wouldn't be seeing me for the next ten days.
 
"Too bad," I said.  "I'm house sitting for the Colonel next week."
 
She looked at me.  "That's different, then.  When do you start?"
 
"Tonight," I said.  "Why is that different?"
 
"Leave the door unlocked," she said, ignoring me.  She did that a lot.
 
I was pretty confused.  By now I was used to the ten day breaks in Heather's apparent mission to keep my balls drained of spunk.  She took those ten days very seriously.   
 
I was even more confused when Heather showed up at the Colonel's, Babs in tow, and a big paper bag clutched against her fabulous breasts.
 
"Show Babs around while I get this stuff ready," she said.  She started pulling out bottles and I immediately saw the makings of sloe gin fizzes.  Heather had never touched a sloe gin fizz since she lost her virginity in that house.
 
I showed Babs around.  She was appropriately awed by artifacts from Africa, and captured German flags, and the old man's issue .45, and pictures of his battalion and so forth.  When we got back, Heather had slow gin fizzes for all of us.
 
"I'm too young to drink, silly," said Babs.
 
"This is the kind of thing that tastes good, but that you don't really get drunk on," said Heather, her face as straight as mine had been when I'd told the same lie a year earlier.
 
Babs trusted her sister, like Heather had trusted me.  Like Heather, Babs couldn't hold her sloe gin fizzes either.
 
By nine-thirty, Babs was naked, and trying on old WW II uniforms that were three sizes too big for her.   
 
By ten, Heather had filled the bathtub, and installed me, behind Babs, who loved getting clean that way as much as Heather had, the year before.  The only difference was that Babs' nipples were pale brown, almost the same color as her breast flesh, and they stuck out longer than Heather's had.
 
By eleven Heather had the four Moody Blues LPs playing on the record player, while her sister lay panting, spread eagled as I licked and sucked her pussy like Heather had taught me to lick and suck hers.   Heather was fully clothed, but she stood right beside the bed, talking soothingly to Babs.
 
"Don't worry, baby," she said.  "I'm watching him.  I won't let him hurt you.  Feels good, doesn't it?  You're in college now, so this is OK."
 
She ordered me around, too, telling me to suck Babs' nipples, and GENTLY push my finger past Babs' equally intact hymen, while Babs writhed and cooed and bucked her way through her first couple of orgasms.
 
Heather kept the sloe gin fizzes coming, and there came a time when Babs went limp, just like Heather had gone limp.
 
"Now," said Heather, stroking my back.  "Fuck her, just like you fucked me.  Make her feel like I felt, Bobby."

===================================================


Heather had me spurt in her sister six times that night.  Just like Heather, as Babs began to sober up, she began to fuck back.  This wasn't because she was as practical as her sister had been.  Babs was pissed that she was no longer a virgin.  But when Heather told her to spread her legs for me, she did it, and by the sixth time she felt a prick stroking her insides, she caught on to how good that felt.
 
Heather left, around eight the next morning.  Babs stayed there, stayed naked, and stayed full of prick, all day long.

Chapter Two
 
After that there were no more ten day rest periods for me.  Their cycles were too far apart.  If Heather was fertile, Babs was not, and vice versa.  Every guy on campus tried to get in Babs' panties, particularly after she got to strut her stuff out on the football field, or on the basketball court.  She was the only Freshman on the varsity cheerleading squad.  She went out with them, but she was a good Catholic girl, and she made that known right up front.  She still got taken out, all year long.  Guys kept hoping that her resolve would weaken.  They just had no idea that her big brother, the guy who was taking care of her, was ... taking care of her.  Like her sister, Babs got prick whenever she wanted it, which was often.
 
The toughest times were when they both wanted it the same night.  That usually happened when I was house sitting for the Colonel.  We had the kind of privacy there that let them both stay naked, and let all three of us sleep in the same bed.  It was a little like being on a big ship in a storm.  I'd roll to one side, where the waves hammered me, and my balls puked, and then I'd roll to the other side, where the same thing happened, except with a different woman.
 
To this day, I swear that the only reason I survived at all, was because I graduated, with honors, at the end of that year, and went on to get my Masters at another institution.
 
I got a double fuck, as a goodbye fuck, and graduation present.  It was a Heather and Babs sandwich, with me being the meat in the middle, and I actually ached, the next morning.  They both had to shower before they left, because their thighs were just wet with my semen.

===================================================


When I left campus, it was if I'd never met them.  I never got a letter, and I had no idea what happened to them.  I ended up, years later, going back to the university, where I took a teaching position.  Every time I saw the wolves gather, to sift through the flock of incoming Freshmen women, and heard men asking girls if they wanted to be a little sister, I thought of Heather and Babs.  I never thought I'd see them again.
 
Until a weekend, a few months ago, when the university had its seventy-fifth anniversary celebration.  I'm forty-one, now, but seeing all the alumni coming back made me feel a lot younger.  The event took place about a week before Freshmen were scheduled to start arriving for the fall term.
 
Of course I had my own house, by then, so I could come and go to the various festivities, and still have a place to relax.  It was summer, and the frat houses and sororities opened up their doors to returning alums. There were all kinds of organized festivities, and programs, and speeches, all designed to get the alumni to donate money, of course.  I was exempt from that, to a degree, even though I could afford to contribute.  I've done pretty well for myself.  I got married to another professor, and then divorced, before we had any kids, so there was no alimony.  She was making more than I did anyway, and left for an even higher paying position in another state. It was an amiable split, for the most part.
 
Anyway, I didn't go to most of those programs.  Instead, I sat around the frat house, drinking beer with my old frat brothers, and talking about old times.  It was great, and I was glad I had come.
 
I did go to one thing, though.  It was a deal where they took pictures of all the alumni, based on the year they graduated.  They had a big set of portable bleachers set up against a stone wall on the football field, and everybody got on that and crowded together, while they took the picture.
 
I was waiting with the seventies group when I saw them.  
 
I knew it was them immediately.  They hadn't changed much, despite the twenty years older they were.  Heather still had that long chestnut hair.  She hadn't gained an ounce, as far as I could see.  Babs was a little heavier, but it didn't look bad on her at all.  They were talking to a couple of other women I didn't recognize, and who looked young enough that I figured I had left before they got there.  
 
I had to go say something.
 
I stood, politely to the side, while they finished their conversation with the women.  They had glanced at me, and at my name tag, while they talked, but didn't give any indication as to how they felt about seeing me again.  Then they turned to me.
 
"Hi," I said.
 
"We were hoping you might be here," said Heather.  Babs just smiled.
 
"How's life been treating you?" I asked, suddenly unable to think of anything intelligent to say.
 
"Oh, married twice, divorced twice, three kids, and one grandchild," said Heather.
 
My mouth dropped open.
 
"You're kidding!" I said.
 
"Nope," she said calmly.  "My youngest is about to start college, I hope."
 
Babs spoke up.  "I've only been divorced once," she said.  "I learned the first time not to get married again.   I have two handsome sons, both in college now."
 
"When in the world did this happen?" I asked, astonished.
 
"Well, after you left, we both got married the next year.  We got pregnant right away.  It was all a horrible mistake."  Heather talked about it like she had bought a Ford, instead of a Chevy.
 
"I'm sorry," I said.
 
"Don't be," said Heather.  "We have lovely, bright children.  They make it all worth it."
 
"You can't possibly be a Grandma," I said to Heather. "You look fabulous!"
 
"Thank you," she dimpled.  "My oldest daughter couldn't keep her legs closed in High School, and wouldn't listen to me.  She's beginning to listen to me now, though, at least with tips on how to raise a baby.  My son is best friends with his cousins.  All three are in the same Fraternity you were in."
 
"And you have another one starting college this year?"  I was just amazed.  Neither woman looked a day over thirty.
 
"She's resisting," said Heather. "I've been worried about her. I managed to keep her from suffering the same fate as her sister.  I want her to go to college, but at the same time ... well ... I remember you."
 
"Uh ... yes," I said, blushing.  I had, after all, been a wolf, and had harvested a couple of the finest ewes in the flock.
 
"They're calling us for the picture," said Babs.
 
The press of people started to separate us, and I moved between people to stay with them.
 
"Where are you staying?" asked Heather.
 
"I work here," I said back, having to raise my voice over the noise of the crowd. I didn't want to yell out that I was a professor, and sound self important.  "I have a house."
 
"Maybe dinner later?" she said.
 
"Sure," I nodded.  "Where are you staying?"
 
"We're down at the Ramada," she said, as the crowd finally succeeded in separating us.  "Drop by, OK?"
 
I waved.
 
By the time they got the picture taken, and I looked for them again, they were gone.

===================================================


I had a lot of really good memories about those two.  It was impossible to think of Heather as a grandmother.  There were some fine lines on her face, that hadn't been there twenty years ago, but she still had that stylish way of dressing, and that same killer smile.  Of course most of the memories I had of her were of her naked body, thrusting up against mine, as I pumped her full of spunk.   Babs was the same.  I knew they had basically penned the wolf, those last two years of my undergraduate career, and that they had owned me, for all intents and purposes.  That's part of why I got divorced, I suppose.  My wife was a serious woman, who, while she enjoyed sex, didn't get really excited about it.  She never displayed the abandon with which Heather and Babs eagerly let me mount them, or urged me to cum in her.  She took the pill AND used a diaphragm, which stopped everything, while she put it in.  It just didn't make for an intimate relationship.
 
It was inevitable that I had to go see them again.  I didn't think anything would actually happen, of course.  I mean that was all twenty years ago ... ancient history.  They'd had lots of men since me, to say nothing of children, which I had never been privileged to make in their flat bellies.  I had just been practice ... a study partner, of sorts.  Their divorces suggested that I hadn't been all that great a study partner, and had not prepared them for choosing the right man at all.

===================================================


I got to the Ramada around eight in the evening.  I thought I had the wrong room when a young woman opened the door to my knock.  I realized in an instant that she looked startlingly like Heather, except on Babs' frame. She was wearing shorts and a halter top, and I had to control my eyes, trying to be polite.
 
"Yes?" 
 
"I'm here to see Heather and Babs," I said.  "I went to college with them."
 
"Oh," she said, looking past me, as if she were expecting someone else.  "You must be Bobby."
 
I hadn't been called "Bobby" in twenty years.
 
She stepped back, and I entered to see Babs sitting in a chair, watching something on the TV.  Heather was lying on a bed, reading a book.
 
"Come on in," said Heather.  She didn't get up, and didn't close the book.  "I see you met Jill, my youngest."
 
"You're the one getting ready to start college," I said, smiling at the girl.
 
"Yeah," she said.  She looked at her mother.  "I thought you said my big brother was coming over."
 
Heather beamed.  "He is.  He's here.  Bob is going to be your big brother."
 
Jill looked horrified.  
 
"Mom!  He's old!  He could be my UNCLE or something!"
 
I was stung.  I thought I looked pretty good for a 41 year old geezer.  I expected Heather to chastise her daughter for being rude, but she didn't.
 
"Sweetheart, you have no idea what having the right big brother means.  You'll understand within a week, I can promise you that.  Bobby is a wonderful man, who is sensitive and cares about the feelings of a woman."
 
That was news to me.  I'd thought I was pretty much a heartless bastard.   After all, I'd gotten her drunk and practically raped her.
 
"It's not fair!" yipped the girl.  "I know what you're doing!  You're going to have him spy on me!  It's bad enough that you're MAKING me go to college.  Now you're going to saddle me with an old man to watch me like a hawk?  I won't be able to have any fun at all!"
 
Babs laughed out loud, and her niece turned on her.
 
"It's NOT funny!  Ever since Lori got herself pregnant, Mom won't let me so much as talk to a boy!  She made the rules so harsh that boys won't even ask me out!"
 
"We'll talk about that later," said Heather.  "Right now we have to welcome Bobby.  He's our guest.   I think a little party is in order."
 
She went to the little kitchenette and started pulling things out of bags.  They'd apparently been shopping for groceries.
 
"You said you worked here?" asked Babs, coming up to me and giving me a hug.   She felt firm, and soft at the same time.  I couldn't help but remember embracing her like this naked, and I responded.  She gave me the slightest little rub with her loins.
 
"I'm a professor in the History department," I said.  "I didn't really know what to do with myself when I finally finished school.  There was a position here, and I still love the campus."
 
"Well how about that?" said Heather, over her shoulder.  "Do you still go around getting little sisters?"
 
I laughed.  "No, you two were my last.  Nobody could have replaced you."
 
Both women actually beamed.
 
"We had a hard time trying to replace you too," said Babs, pushing away from me.  She glanced at Jill, who was sulking in a chair.
 
"Well, tell us all about what you did after we last saw you," said Heather.
 
I gave them the standard rundown, and they all listened politely.  While I was doing that, Heather got into the little refrigerator by the sink.  She pulled out a bottle of sloe gin, and a bottle of ginger ale.  Babs got up and left the room, coming back with a bucket of ice.
 
I raised an eyebrow at Heather, who gave me a little smile.
 
"Jill doesn't think she wants to go to college,"  said Heather.  "We were trying to figure out how to get her excited about school, and brought her with us to the reunion.  We had no idea you'd be here, but when we found out, we grabbed the opportunity.  We thought we'd teach her how we partied, way back in the middle ages." 
 
"You're kidding!" I said weakly.  I should have stopped it, but, to tell you the truth, the thought of getting these two women naked again was uppermost in my mind.  I would have never imagined, in a thousand years, they'd still be willing to do that.
 
Jill, completely unaware of what was about to happen, turned her head.
 
"I'd already know how to party, Mom, if you wouldn't have gotten so completely weird about Lori.  She's doing fine, you know.  She loves her baby.  I might have been able to find a husband too, but you wouldn't let me near boys."
 
"Well, I was just trying to protect you, darling.  I know Lori is doing all right.  I just want you to have all the opportunities you can have," said Heather.  "You need to think about your future."
 
"We've had this talk a hundred times, Mom.  I'm quite happy living at home.  I'll find a job, one of these days.  Don't be so old fashioned."
 
Heather poured a sloe gin fizz and handing it to her daughter.  "Happy birthday, darling."
 
"It would be a lot happier if I were home, with my friends," said Jill, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
 
"Today is Jill's eighteenth birthday," said Heather.
 
"What's this?" asked Jill, looking at the drink and sniffing it.  "Don't tell me you're going to actually let me take a drink of something with alcohol in it."
 
"Oh, it's just a little relaxer," said Heather, drinking her own sloe gin fizz in one, long series of gulps.  When she got done, she smacked her lips.  "You can't get drunk on these."
 
Babs drained a glass, and refilled it.
 
"This isn't bad," commented Jill, extending her empty glass.
 
Jill, as it turned out, couldn't hold her sloe gin fizzes either.  It must have been a genetic thing.  Eventually her head lolled to the side, and her eyes took on a glassy look.  I was laboring under the impression they were just trying to get her drunk, so the rest of us could party like we used to.  
 
That laboring came to a complete halt when Heather started undressing her daughter.
 
"What are you doing?" I asked.  Jill didn't seem to realize what was happening to her, as the knot of her halter top was undone in the front, and the cloth flipped to the side to bare her breasts.
 
"What do you think I'm doing?" she replied.  "I want her to have the same big brother as I did."
 
"I can't do that," I said weakly.  "I could be her professor!"
 
"I doubt it," said Heather.  "She's been resisting the idea of college for two years now.  I doubt this will change her mind, but, if we can get her through the first year, I think she'll change her mind.  You have no idea how much you improved Babs and my first year."
 
"Mom?" came Jill's slurred voice.  "How come my top fell off?"  She looked around.  "That man can see my titties."
 
"This is insane," I insisted.  I looked at Heather's young breasts, on Babs' young body, except it was Jill on the bed.  She looked delicious.
 
Heather stopped long enough to kiss me, rubbing her pussy against my hardon.
 
"I thought so," she murmured into my mouth.  "You're primed and ready, just like always."
 
"This is different," I said.
 
"No it's not," she said.  "Make her feel good, like you did for me.  I couldn't go without, once I'd had you.  You wanna know a secret?"
 
"What?"  She had distracted me.  Well, Jill's breasts had distracted me, but Heather distracted me some more.
 
"Remember all that fighting I did, trying to keep you from getting in me that first time?"
 
"Yes," I said.  "I felt bad about that for a long time."
 
"It was all fake," she said.  "I wanted your dick in me even more than you did. I just couldn't give up too easily."
 
"Well I'll be!" I groaned.
 
"That's why I gave you Babs.  I knew she'd love it too, and I know Jill has a hot box, just like us.  Come on, Bobby, make her feel good."
 
I know I shouldn't have done it.  I was putting my career on the line just by being in the room with a naked soon-to-be coed.  But I hadn't seen a tight, young body like that in a long time either.  My little head took over and did the thinking for me.
 
We didn't have the Colonel's old uniforms for Jill to try on naked, so Heather opted for teaching her daughter about men.  She had a big plan all worked out, but Jill got wasted so fast, she didn't have time to put it into play.
 
We didn't have the Moody Blues records either, but the TV had an all music channel on it, that didn't have any commercials, and that played in the background.
 
By ten, I was on the bed with her, rubbing her young clitty, while she bucked and moaned.  We were both naked, by then, and Babs was sucking on my dick, while I gave Jill a string of orgasms with my fingers and lips.  
 
"I'm thirsty," she slurred, as I gave her time to catch her breath.  "How come he's naked?  How come I'm naked?  I thought you said that stuff wouldn't get me drunk."   She started giggling.
 
"You're not drunk, darling," said Heather. "You're inebriated."
 
"Oh," giggled Jill.  "That's different then."
 
She wasn't quite limp, when her mother took one leg, and her aunt took the other, and pressed her knees against her ears, exposing her untried, good, Catholic girl pussy to my prick.
 
"You're sure?" I asked, as the tip of my prick split her labia open.
 
"Make her happy," panted Heather, who was also naked.
 
"Don't hurry," said Babs, who was also naked.  "But hurry, OK?"
 
Jill gave out a wail as I took her virginity.  She looked owlishly at her mother's face.
 
"He's fucking me!" she whined.  "Bippity Boppity Bob is fucking me, Mommy!"
 
"I know, sweetheart," said her mother.  "Doesn't it feel wonderful?"
 
"It HURTS!" squealed Jill.  She was helpless, and couldn't move, but her pussy was going wild.   It turned out that, while she might not have learned how to party, she had been well educated in cursing like a sailor.
 
That lasted for ten minutes, while her pussy got used to being stretched and mauled.  Then her cries turned to moans, and her shouted words turned to softer grunts.  She batted the hands away from her thighs, and lowered her heels to the bed.   She arched her pussy up in the air as I slid into her, and we were off to the races.
 
I was twenty years older.  They couldn't possibly expect me to perform like I had when I was twenty-one.
 
They did.
 
"Spunk her pussy, Bobby," whispered Heather.
 
"Noooooo Mommmyeeeeee," moaned Jill, who was much more aware of what was happening to her than either of the other women had been, twenty years earlier.
 
"Yes, baby," said Babs, leaning down to suck at one of her niece's nipples.  "You'll love this part.  I promise."
 
She did too.
 
"Oooo it's all warm," she moaned, as I spurted into her unprotected womb.
 
"He's making a baby in you, darling," whispered her mother, into the girl's ear.  "If you're not going to go to college, you need to start a family."
 
"Nooooooo," whined Jill, slurring.  "I don't want to have a babeeeeeee."
 
I froze, Heather's words penetrating into my brain.
 
"If you're going to stay home, and live with me, instead of going out into the world and finding your place, then you're going to have to start your family there too," said her mother, putting her hand on my bare butt, to keep me deep in her daughter while I spurted some more.

===================================================


When I hauled my body off of her, Jill had sobered up enough to sit up and stare at her pussy, and the thick white cream that was oozing out of it.  She took the drink her aunt handed her and downed it, without thinking.  That one was the one that did the trick.  She leaned to one side, and slowly toppled.  We arranged her on the bed in a more comfortable position.  Her pussy lips were drenched with my spunk.
 
It was a long night.  Let me tell you, folks ... it was a very long night.
 
Babs put me on the other bed and played with me, trying to get me hard again.
 
"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" I asked Heather, as Babs sucked me clean and played with my empty balls.
 
"I don't really want her to get pregnant," said Heather.  She was sitting in a chair, legs spread, slowly masturbating.  "I just want her to get addicted to you.  We weren't planning this, though, and I don't remember exactly when her last period was.  But I want her to wake up thinking that her choice is either college, or a baby.   If I can convince her to go to school, we can teach her avoid pregnancies, like  we did."
 
"I can't just fuck her every day, like I did with you two," I said, feeling Babs' ministrations working.  "I'm a professor for pity's sake!"
 
"Oh, it will be fine," said Heather, moving her hips now.  "It's a big school, and besides, you have a house, right?  Isn't it off campus?"
 
"Yes," I groaned.  Babs was sucking so hard it actually hurt a little. "But I also have neighbors, and a lot of them are college kids.  I bought an old house, and a lot of the ones around me have been made into apartments for college kids."
 
Babs sat back, examining the erection she had just produced.  She climbed aboard and sank down on my prick with a long, satisfied sigh. I think I did some sighing too.  She was still gorgeous.
 
"I loved being pregnant, when I finally let it happen," she said, as she rocked on me gently.  "I should have let you get me pregnant."
 
"That would have been crazy," I panted, feeling right at home in her pussy.  Twenty years hadn't affected that part of her at all.
 
"I guess," she said, arching her chest as I fingered her nipples.  She leaned forward to dangle a nipple above my face.   While I sucked her nipples, she told me she and Heather had part time jobs, but didn't really have to work, because of  the alimony they were getting, and, now that their kids were grown, they didn't know what to do with themselves.   Heather lay beside us, masturbating, and chimed in her story too.  Jill lay on the other bed, limp, her mouth open in sleep, and her pussy still running with my sperm.
 
"We should have figured out a way to keep you there," said Heather as she wiggled into an orgasm.  
 
"Things just never were the same after you left," said Babs, flexing her pussy muscles to squeeze my prick.
 
"You guys would have killed me," I panted.
 
"I hope you're healthy now," panted Babs, milking my prick with her pussy.  "Squirt in me, Bobby," she gasped.
 
I did, and then rolled to become sandwich meat between two pieces of soft white bread.
 
By midnight, I had spunked Heather, and they'd managed to get me hard again. They were trying to get me to give an unconscious Jill another helping of semen.
 
"We have to talk about this," I said.  "I can't get her pregnant! That would be the craziest thing of all!"
 
I called a halt then.  The older women and I sat up, talking, still naked, for another hour or two.
 
Heather explained that she couldn't just let Jill go off and get knocked up by the first guy who wandered between her legs.  None of the boys who were likely candidates for that had any ambition, and wouldn't be able to support Jill.
 
"Then it's even more goofy to let ME knock her up," I said.  "I can't marry her.  It would be a scandal.  Besides, I don't even know her."
 
"I'm not asking you to marry her," said Heather.  "She wouldn't do that anyway.  But if she gets pregnant by you, then at least she can stay at home and raise the baby."
 
"I thought you didn't WANT her to stay at home," I said, confused.
 
"I don't," said Heather.  "But if she's going to, anyway, then at least I can guide her there, as opposed to just shoving her out into the cruel world, to be the slave of some man!"
 
"If you're so down on men, why did you invite me here tonight?" I asked.
 
"You're our big brother," said Babs.  "That's different.  We love you."
 
"You never said that twenty years ago," I said.
 
"That's because we both wanted you," said Heather.  "I didn't realize how stupid it was for me to have you break Babs in.  I just wanted her to have as much fun as I'd had.  By the time I realized I loved you, she did too.  We couldn't both have you."
 
"You sure tried," I said, only half joking.
 
"We were addicted to you," said Babs.   "That's how we ended up married.  When you left, and we weren't satisfied any more, we had to have it, and chose the wrong men to get it from."  
 
"I thought you went without ... in the summer time," I said to Heather.
 
"I did, but only because I knew I was coming back to you," she said, quite seriously.  "When you graduated, you left, and we didn't know what to do."
 
"So you got off your schedule," I said.
 
They both nodded.
 
"We're back on now, though," sighed Heather.
 
"For a few days," I said.
 
Heather looked at me through lowered lashes.  "We know where you live, now, Bobby."
 
So help me, my prick got hard again.
 
"That's silly." I said.  "You've been married, and had kids.  You don't need me any more.  I admit, though, that I've missed you two."
 
"When we found out you worked here, it changed everything," said Heather.  "If she gets pregnant, I can take care of her.  If she doesn't, maybe this will get her to come to college.  I know you'll keep an eye on her, and keep her satisfied.  That would be perfect."
 
"And how is that supposed to work?" I asked.  "I can't go around boffing students.  I SURE can't go around getting them pregnant!"
 
"Why not?" asked Heather, completely serious.  "If this will get her to go to college, I'm all for it, and I'm her mother!"
 
"The administration wouldn't quite see it that way," I said.
 
"Well, then, if she's NOT going to college, I want her full of baby.  If I'm going to have to take care of her as an adult, I want a grandbaby out of the deal, and I want it to be yours!"  Heather was wound up.
 
Jill rolled over on the bed.
 
"Come on, Bobby," said Heather.  "Give her a whole string of orgasms as she sobers up," said Heather, standing up, and pulling me up too.
 
"I'm not as young as I was back then," I protested.
 
"Use your fingers then," she said.  "This is important.  Waking up to constant pleasure is one of the things that made you so addictive."
 
So I lay with her daughter and sucked at her nipples, and diddled her clitty some more, while she bucked through four or five orgasms, until I was so worked up that I lost my mind and mounted the girl again.
 
Her eyes opened halfway.
 
"You're fucking me," she panted.
 
"I am, indeed," I said.
 
"You're an old man," she said.
 
"Does this feel old?" I asked, lunging into her and rotating my hips in a circle.
 
"Feels goooooood," she whined.
 
I spurted.
 
"That feels good toooooo," she moaned.


Chapter Three
 
I slept with Jill that night, on the theory that if she woke up with me, she'd like that.  It didn't quite work out that way.  She had a hangover, and was a mess.  Her thighs were sticky with my sperm, and she really had no idea who I was.  She got up and went into the shower, where she stood under the water long enough that, when she came out, her aunt was riding me like a cowgirl again.
 
That looked interesting, apparently, because she watched, while Babs had a couple of orgasms and asked me to cum in her.  When she rolled off, Heather cleaned me up with her mouth, which just about unhinged Jill, until her aunt pushed her over to watch and learn.
 
It went on that way all morning.  Jill watched, and learned, and found out her mother was a VERY sexual being.


=========================================

We went out to lunch together, all famished from having missed breakfast.  Neither Heather, nor Babs would talk with Jill about what had happened.  Jill was clearly confused, and memories were popping up that she wasn't quite sure how to deal with.  
 
As soon as we were back in the room, though, Jill set her heels.
 
"Mom, I want to know what the fuck is going on!"
 
"Don't curse, dear," said Heather.  "It isn't ladylike."
 
"Neither is getting your daughter drunk and letting some man rape her!" said Jill angrily.
 
"He didn't rape you, darling.  You had a very good time."
 
"That's not how I remember it," she groused.   "And I'm right in the middle of my fertile time right now too!  How could you do that to me?"
 
"May I remind you that you watched Bobby and us making love all morning long?" interjected Babs.
 
"Well ..."  Jill frowned, and looked confused.  "I was shocked.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  That's all."  She looked around.  "I mean you guys were acting like he was the best thing since sliced bread!"
 
"He is, baby," said Heather softly.
 
"I'm not your baby!" snarled Jill.  "He fucked me.  I remember that much, and that means I'm not your baby any more!"
 
"If you're not my baby any more, why are you planning on living with me?" Heather shot back.
 
"That's different.  I mean I can't just ... I don't have anywhere to go.  Oooooo I don't know WHAT to do!" moaned Jill.
 
"Well, you have two choices," said Heather.  "You can go to college, and get a job, or get married, or whatever."  Jill frowned at that.  "Or, you can stay home with me and have my grandbabies."   Jill didn't look wild about that idea either.
 
"It's not fair!" she moaned.
 
"Who said life is fair?" asked Babs.
 
"What do you want from me?" whined Jill.
 
"Darling," said Heather, "I was intent on you getting an education.  I'm even more intent on that, now that I know Bobby would be here to keep an eye on you."
 
Jill laughed.  "THAT'S keeping an eye on me?"
 
"He kept an eye on me for two years, and on your aunt for her first year," said Heather.
 
"Like that?" asked Jill, looking at me a little more interestedly.
 
"He was a very good big brother."
 
"He'd have to be my uncle," said Jill, a small smile on her face for the first time that morning.  It seemed strangely out of place, considering her irate attitude shortly before.
 
"Now that you know what it's like, would that be so bad?" asked Heather.
 
"Why wouldn't you let me do that with Jimmy Carson?  HE'S dreamy!"
 
Even I saw that as a bald-faced attempt at dodging the subject.
 
"Jimmy Carson would swear it wasn't his baby, and take off.  You know that, Jill.  He's a jerk.   Anybody can see that."
 
"At least he didn't get me drunk and rape me," complained Jill.
 
"As I recall, The policeman, who caught you two parking, got there before that could happen," said Heather.  "I had to talk to the judge about the fact that you were drunk."
 
"Oh, yeah, I forgot that part," said Jill.
 
"Well I didn't," said Heather.  "Lori was very lucky with Frank, but he had to drop out of school, and he's not making much money.  Their life is going to be very hard."
 
"But you just got me drunk!  And then he had sex with me!  I might be pregnant, just like Lori!"
 
"That's because you're planning on living at home with me," said Heather.  "I offered Lori the same deal, but she decided to marry Frank anyway.  That has turned out better than I thought it would, but it's still going to be a hard life for them."
 
"But you're my MOTHER!" yelled the girl.
 
"And you are my adult daughter," said Heather, without a pause.  "If you're going to live at home with me, then you can take care of Bob's baby there too."
 
"But I don't love him!" wailed Jill.
 
"You will, Darling," said Heather.  "Trust me, you will.  Now, why don't you take off your clothes, and get another helping of Bob's loving."
 
"I most certainly will not!" yelled the girl.

============================================

She didn't.  And she wouldn't have gotten drunk again either, though neither woman tried that.  Instead, they used me all afternoon, while Jill sat and pretended not to watch.
 
At one point, while Heather was moaning for me to shoot off in her, Jill stood up.
 
"Mom!" she said, too loudly.
 
"Mmmm?"  Heather was enjoying the feel of hot sperm jetting against her cervix.
 
"You're not on the pill, Mom."  She looked confused.  "We're Catholic."
 
"I knoooowwww," moaned her mother.
 
"Ohhhhh" I gasped, as my prick gave its last convulsive spurt.  I had always been extra turned on by fucking these two women. Part of that was knowing they were unprotected.  That had slipped my mind, until Jill reminded me.
 
Jill turned to Babs, who was lying on the other bed, relaxed.  Her pussy lips were messy with my spunk too.
 
"Are YOU on the pill Aunt Babs?"
 
"Of course not, honey," said Babs, her voice dreamy. "I'm Catholic too.  You know that."
 
"Well, then ... what if he gets YOU pregnant?" asked Jill.
 
"I'll have his beautiful, healthy baby," moaned Heather, pulling my face down for a kiss.
 
"I was talking to Aunt Babs!" whined Jill.
 
"Don't you worry about me," said Babs, rubbing a finger through her slippery pussy lips.  You need to worry about YOUR future."
 
I finished the kiss, and finished filling up Heather's belly with my sperm, and then looked over at Jill.
 
"You don't have to worry about that," I panted.  "Both of these women know how to avoid that.  We did this a lot, and they never got pregnant."
 
"A lot?" asked Jill.  "How much?"
 
"Every day except for ten each month," I said, pulling out of Heather.  she reached to seal her pussy closed.  I figured she didn't want to leak on the bed.
 
"Every DAY?" gasped Jill.
 
"At least once," sighed Babs, who got up to come over and clean my spunky prick.
 
"How can you DO that?" moaned Jill.  "It was just in my MOTHER!"
 
Babs pulled off and smacked her lips.
 
"He tastes yummy, especially when he's been in your mother."
 
"Ewwww," whined Jill.
 
"You're young," said Babs.  "You don't know anything.  You should try it before you knock it."
 
"I'm not putting my mouth on THAT!" squealed Jill.  "Especially not after it's been in my mother!"
 
"Your loss is my gain," said Babs, and she went back to sucking my limp prick.

==============================================

We took a long break for supper, and driving around town, looking at things I was familiar with, but which had changed a lot since the women had been there.  We talked about old times, and told stories.  All college kids can tell stories, later in life, that would shock a lot of people.
 
"You guys were wild!" said Jill, at one point.  "I can't believe my own mother and aunt did all those things."
 
"My college years were the best years of my life," sighed Heather.
 
"Because of all that ... because of Bob?" asked Jill.
 
"He was a big part of it," said Heather, reaching over to touch my thigh.  "I was in love with him, but wouldn't admit it.  If I could have, things might have turned out a lot differently."
 
"I might not even be here!" said Jill.
 
"That's right, darling," said her mother.  "You might not."

================================================

I took them to my house for the evening.  I had purchased an old Victorian style house, which had been ravaged by being rented year after year to college kids.  I got it cheap, and then spent money fixing it up.  The whole upper floor was sealed off and empty, but I had done up the main floor pretty nicely.  I had some loud neighbors, once in a while, but it wasn't too bad.   Most of the kids learned that I was a professor, and all I usually had to do was walk over to the party and ask them to keep it down to a dull roar.  Actually, as long as the parties didn't spill out onto the lawn, I didn't hear all that much.
 
"This is nice," said Heather, walking around.  She looked at the art on the walls, most of which was erotic.
 
"Is sex all you think about?" asked Jill, looking at a large photograph of a naked woman with her ankles hooked behind her head.  Her pussy was gaping open.
 
"I like sex," I said.
 
"I guess you do," she said back.
 
"Bob?"  Heather turned to look at me.
 
"Yes?"
 
"Why don't you use all the extra space to rent out and make a little money?"
 
"I thought of that," I said, but I thought it would be more trouble than it's worth.  I don't want to have a separate entrance built to the upstairs.  That would cost a lot.  And then I'd have kids stomping around up there, and it would be noisy.
 
"You have two bedrooms down here," said Babs.
 
I laughed.  "Like I'd be roommates with a college kid again."
 
"Oh," she said.  "I was just thinking about how much better it would be if Jill lived here, instead of in the dorm."
 
Now THAT was an interesting thing to think about.
 
"Here?"  Jill's voice sounded strange.  "I couldn't live with a man who raped me."
 
"He didn't rape you, darling," said Heather, her voice edgy.  "I just wanted you to know what it was like, when a man who knows what he's doing makes love to you.  You had a good time, believe me."
 
"Mom, I was almost unconscious," snorted the girl.  "I mean I remember it feeling really good and all, but I'd never have done it on purpose."
 
"Well you should," sniffed Heather.  "Bob's the best lover I ever had."
 
"What about Daddy?" asked the girl.
 
"Your father didn't know squat," said Heather heatedly.  "He got me pregnant, but I was lucky to have two orgasms a year with him.  He was a wham-bam kind of man, and rarely even said 'thank you, ma'am'."
 
"So?" said Jill, not really making it a question.  "The girls I know who do it say they hardly ever get off."
 
"That's the point, dear," said her mother.  "With Bob I had two or three orgasms a DAY.  He must have given you ten or fifteen just since you met him!"
 
"He did?"  She looked confused.  "How come I can't remember them?"
 
"We apparently got you a little too relaxed," said Heather, dryly.
 
"That's just so unfair!" said Jill, pouting again.  "I lost my virginity and I can hardly remember anything about it, and I had all those orgasms and I can't remember them.  It's not fair!"
 
"Well, maybe he can give you a few more tonight that you WILL remember," said Babs, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say.
 
"I TOLD you," said Jill stiffly.  "I'm not letting him do ANYTHING to me!"
 
"Your loss is my gain," said Babs, sweetly.  She turned to me.  "Bobby, would you be nice enough to give me a few orgasms right now?  I'd love to do it on your bed."
 
Twenty years might have gone by, but she still had the same effect on me as she had back then.

================================================

I thought it was interesting that Jill came along to watch, following her mother, who also watched.  As disgusted as Jill was trying to sound, she was curiously interested in seeing her Aunt get fucked.  As Babs and I got naked, I remembered that Babs had liked to be taken from behind, way back then, before we knew what a G spot was.  I arranged her on the bed that way, and she looked over her shoulder.
 
"My husband wouldn't do this," she said.  "I'd forgotten about how much fun this is."
 
I slid into her, and she dropped her head on folded arms, groaning.  She wiggled her butt at me.
 
"Ohhh fuck me, Bobby, I love this," she moaned.
 
I reached around to find her nipples and twiddle them.  Then I started trying to find the two inch area on the top of her pussy channel where I now knew a G spot might be. I had to get up on the bed and squat above her to get my prick at the right angle.  I was actually fucking down, instead of in, and it was delicious.  I could feel the tip of my prick scrape over the toughened, thickened area I had hoped was there.  She started moving around so much I couldn't keep the tip of my prick on it, though.
 
It didn't matter.  She went off like a bomb, just like she had all those years ago.  I kept going, and stacked up two more before she rolled, to get away from me because she couldn't breathe.  As she flopped on the bed, I dropped my lips to capture her clitty and tortured her through another one before she could push my head away and close her thighs.
 
"ENOUGH!" she whined.  "I can't take any more!"
 
I hadn't cum, and I looked around to see Heather rubbing the front of her jeans.  She was breathing heavily.
 
"Take your clothes off, Heather," I said.
 
"No," she panted.  "You can't make me do that."
 
It was a game we had played, way back then, where I chased her around for a while, getting a button undone here, and a snap undone there.  She never did them back up.  Eventually, when I got her breasts bare, I'd suck at her nipples and she caved in.  She had very sensitive nipples.
 
I got up and grabbed her.  Babs apparently knew what to expect, because she rolled to give me room to get to her sister.  Heather squealed and kicked and, for some reason, I got a little extra frisky.  She lost three buttons on the front of her blouse as I ripped the front apart.  She froze, unused to that much force, and she was immobile long enough for me to see she was wearing a bra with a front catch, so I grabbed it and pulled it open.  I held her arms down and went to work on her nipples.  Seventy seconds later she was wiggling out of her shorts.
 
I didn't even let her get them completely off.  I just pulled her panties to one side and rammed her full of hard prick.  The leg her shorts was still hanging from went up in the air and she squealed.
 
Then I pounded her, shaking her body, and the bed under it, until I could see Babs bouncing around beside us as she lay limp and satisfied.  I didn't pay any attention to Jill, but found out later she stood, her mouth open, watching this violent taking of her mother, who was obviously loving every second of being taken violently.
 
After Heather had two orgasms, during which I got some small clue as to where Jill had learned how to curse like a sailor, I groaned and let her have it.  Her reaction to feeling me spurting in her was astonishing.  She stopped fighting, and her hands gripped my shoulders.
 
"You're cumming in me," she whispered.
 
"Yes I am!" I gasped.
 
"Ohhhhh Bobby," she moaned, wrapping her legs around me.  "I love you so much."

===================================================

Their clothes were back at the Motel, so I took them back there.  Heather held her blouse together until she got in the room, and then took the blouse off, staying in her bra.  She kicked her shorts off and examined her panties.
 
"I need to change panties," she said, skinning them down.  "You ruined these."
 
That was the way it was, with Heather and Babs.  Almost all the time, they had been in charge, and almost all the time, I had done whatever they demanded of me.  Heather had loved being dominated, but once that was over, she was in charge again, and everything was my fault.
 
"I should probably go, huh?" I asked.  I had changed clothes at my house, but I'd been with them for twenty-four hours, during which I'd fucked Babs and Heather at least three times each, and Jill twice.
 
"Oh," said Babs.  "Won't you stay the night again?  We have to leave tomorrow, and we probably won't get to see you again for months."
 
"These are nice beds," I said, looking at the two queens in the room.  "I don't think they're big enough to sleep three comfortably, though."
 
"She's not talking about you sleeping with us," said Heather.  "She's talking about you sleeping with Jill."
 
"No way!" said Jill, though she didn't say it with nearly as much heat as had been in her voice six hours earlier.
 
"Jill," I said.  "You have nothing to fear from me.  I thought what they did to you was crazy too."
 
"What YOU did to me," she insisted.
 
"If you don't remember it, then it never happened," I said.
 
She frowned.
 
"I remember SOME of it," she said.
 
"You were very happy, darling," said Heather.  "I know you don't believe me, but you were."
 
"I know that," snapped Jill.  She looked startled.  "I mean ... OK ... if you say so."
 
Her mother knew her daughter better than that.
 
"Jill, I think you remember a lot more than you're admitting to."
 
"What difference does it make," asked the girl, her voice surly.  "I still didn't choose to do it."
 
"But you had a good time."  Heather's statement hung in the air.
 
"OK, so I had a good time," said Jill.  "That doesn't mean I want to do it again.  Not with HIM!"
 
"Why in the world not?" asked Babs.  "Are you just stubborn?  He made you feel good.  He could do it again right now, and you'd feel even better!  Why in the world are you keeping yourself from feeling that?"
 
"Because I'm not SUPPOSED to do that!" cried the girl.  "Mom has lectured me over and over again NOT to do it!"
 
"That's because you were a girl!" moaned Heather.  "You're a woman now!"
 
"So I can do it with whomever I want now?" asked Jill, her voice crafty.
 
Heather threw up her hands.
 
"FINE!" she shouted.  "Go out and get knocked up by Jimmy Carson, or one of those other loser boys, who won't know how to give you an orgasm, and won't care whether you have one or not!  I'm finished with you.  I tried to get you to go to college ... to explore life ... to learn something ... to be able to get a good job ... but you won't listen to me!  Go out on your own!  Do what you want!  But don't come crying to me when your belly swells with a baby whose father won't claim it, and who won't give you anything other than that baby!"
 
"You said you'd support me if HE knocked me up!" yelled Jill, pointing at me.  Her face was dark with blood that wasn't from a blush.
 
"And I WOULD support you if it was Bobby's baby!" shouted her mother back.  "I LOVE Bobby, and I'd love his baby, even if it was you having it, but I'll not stand having some pimply faced boy coming around to keep fucking you, and living out of my refrigerator, while I raise his child."  Heather's voice wasn't so angry any more.  It had a note of  sadness in it, instead.
 
"Calm down, Heather," said Babs, coming to stand between the other two women.  "We're the ones who got her drunk and got her screwed.  We fucked this all up."
 
I held up my hands.
 
"Everybody sit down and just breathe for a minute," I said.  Oddly, they all did just that.  I went to stand in front of Jill.
 
"I apologize for taking you without your permission.  I did that to both your mother and Babs, and it was wrong then too.  It worked out all right, but I shouldn't have done it ... to them ... or you.  It's a poor excuse, but they have this affect on me that I can't seem to control."
 
Jill stared at me.
 
"You did that to them too?  Like you did to me?"
 
"Yes.  I got Heather drunk and did exactly the same thing.  Don't ask me why, but she thought it was a good idea, and helped me do that with Babs too."
 
Jill looked at her aunt, and then her mother.
 
"He did that to you ... and you still love him?"
 
"Desperately," sighed Heather.
 
"And you thought I'd love him too?"  Jill's face was a mixture of disbelief, and shock, but there was something else there too ... something I couldn't identify.
 
"Yes," said her mother helplessly.  "I'm sorry too, baby.  He's right.  It WAS crazy, and we shouldn't have done it."  Her hands fell limply to her lap, which looked odd, because all she was wearing was her bra.  She lifted a hand to wipe at her eye.
 
"Don't cry, Mommy," moaned Jill.
 
"Why not," moaned Heather. "I've fucked up your whole life!"
 
"No you haven't," said her daughter, now arguing the opposite of what she would have been arguing ten minutes before.  "It wasn't that bad."
 
"Yes it was," moaned Heather.  "You told me it hurt, and I let him keep going!"
 
"I don't remember that part," said Jill, trying to comfort the woman she had been fighting with two minutes before that.
 
"I'm glad," said Heather, standing up.  "You really did have a good time, honey."
 
"I know," moaned the girl, standing up.
 
They hugged each other.
 
"I just couldn't admit it," said Jill, crying herself now.  "I was actually kind of glad."
 
Her mother pushed her back and stared.
 
"I mean I was all worried about my first time," said Jill.  "I was afraid it would be horrible, but it wasn't.  Really, it wasn't."
 
Heather's mouth fell open.  "That's exactly how I felt!" she gasped.
 
"Really?" asked Jill, wiping her eyes.
 
"Yes!  I was so worried about what it would be like, and then he was there, making me do it, and it felt so good after a while that I never wanted him to stop!"
 
"I don't know if it felt THAT good," said Jill, glancing at me, for some reason.  "But I guess I did like it ... a little.  I just thought I shouldn't admit it."
 
"Me EITHER!" said Heather, hugging her daughter again.  "I just knew he'd think I was a slut if I told him how wonderful it was.  So I pretended not to like it, and then got him to do it to me again."
 
"Well," said Babs.  "Isn’t this confession night at the old corral?  I loved it the very first time he did it to me, and I’ve loved it every time he did it after that, and I don’t CARE if he thinks I’m a slut, as long as he keeps doing it to me."  She smiled sweetly.
 
The other two women just stared at her.
 
"Obviously, we don’t have the problem here that we thought we had," she said.
 
"Wait a minute," said Jill.  "That doesn't mean I want to sleep with him."
 
"Why not?" asked Babs.
 
"He's just so ..." She trailed off.
 
I wouldn't know this for a while yet, because I couldn't read her mind, but, for the first time Jill thought about what she was about to say, and how it could hurt a man's feelings.  She looked at me.  What I didn't know was that she was thinking I seemed like a nice guy, and it was quite obvious that I made her mother and aunt crazy with desire.  I was just so ... mature.  She felt like a little girl around me.   She had always gauged how she thought she felt about a boy by how he kissed.  If she liked his kisses, she figured she liked the boy.  If she REALLY liked his kisses, then she thought about letting him do other tings too.
 
"Did you kiss me?" she asked, still looking at me.
 
"I don't think so," I said.  "You were kind of flailing around.  It was easier to get to your breasts than your lips."
 
She was remembering that part with crystal clarity.  She thought she'd just die when I sucked her tender nipples ... and my finger in her ... it had just been fabulous.  She wondered what it would be like to kiss a man who had so much experience.   She walked over to me.
 
"Kiss me," she said.
 
"What?"
 
"Just kiss me," she said. "You didn't have any problem fucking me ... so kiss me."
 
I don't do anything by halves.  I took her in my arms and pressed my lips to hers.  I didn't try to French her right away, but nibbled on her lips, with mine, making it into many little kisses, rather than one long one.   About ten seconds went by before she responded, and then I could feel her relax, and lean into me.  I shifted technique, and probed lightly with my tongue.  Hers came out an flicked against mine, and the kiss deepened.
 
When I pulled away from her, her eyes were still closed, and her lips were slightly open.
 
"You didn't kiss me," she said.  "I'd have remembered that."  
 
She opened her eyes.  I was still holding her, and she felt my lump against her pussy.  That lump had been inside her.  She remembered much more of that than she had admitted too, and she shuddered as her pussy clenched.
 
"Would you do only what I want you to do?" she asked, a little breathlessly.  "I don't want to be forced again."
 
"Of course," I said.  "I'm not a beast. I've never forced myself on anybody except you three.  The only reason I did it to your mother was that she drove me crazy."
 
"What if I drove you crazy?" asked the teenager.
 
"I'm older now," I said.  "I have more control."
 
"It didn't look like that in your bedroom, when you fucked my mother."
 
"She wanted that," I said.  "I knew that."
 
"How did you know?"
 
"I don't know," I moaned.  "I just did."
 
"What do I want right now?" asked the girl.
 
I stared into her eyes.
 
"You want to take a shower with a man," I said.  "You want to be naked, and explore, but be able to stop any time you want to."
 
"Shower," she repeated.  "I never thought of that."
 
"You want to feel my hands, sliding over your body," I said.  "You want to be turned on and excited."
 
She couldn’t keep her loins from bumping mine.
 
"I don't like you," she said.
 
"Why?"
 
"Because now that's what I want."  She pushed him away.  "How do you do that?"
 
"I told you," said her mother, smiling.
 
"I don't like you very much either," said Jill, not looking at her mother.  "I think you did something to me."
 
"Bob did it to you, darling.  He did it to all of us."
 
Jill put her hands on her hips.  She looked at Heather, and then at Babs, and finally back to Bob.  Her hands dropped.  She walked to the bathroom door and went inside.  Everyone else stood there, until she appeared in the doorway again.
 
"Well?  Are you coming or not?" she asked, staring straight at me.


Chapter Four	
 
I made her face away from me, and washed her back first, stroking her shoulders, arms, and back over and over again, before sliding my hands around to stroke her belly.  She didn't know what to do with her own hands, and held them out, letting me touch her wherever I wanted to.  I knelt and did her legs next, washing her buttocks, but not touching her pussy.  She was fairly dancing within ten minutes.  Every time she tried to turn around, I forced her back, to face away from me.
 
"What are you DOING?" she said.
 
"Touching you."

"Aren't you supposed to touch me ... all over?" she said.

"Later.  I thought you didn't want me to rush you."

"I don't ... but ..."  She flapped her hands.

"What's the matter?" I asked.  "You want me to touch you here?"

I slid both hands over her breasts, and she arched her back into them.

"Oooooo ... You know I do," she whined.

"Then say something," I said.  "How am I supposed to know what you want?"

"I can't just tell you what I want," she moaned.  "You're an older man.  You shouldn't be touching a young girl like me in the first place."

"Why not?" I asked, letting my hand slide down to her abdomen, where it grazed her pubic hair.  She went up on tiptoes, and put one hand against the wall.  "You're legal."

"I've never done anything like this," she moaned.  "This is so nasty!"

"No," I said, pulling her against my chest.  My bone pressed into her buttocks.  "This is nasty."  I took her hips and rubbed my prick in her butt crack.  She bent over and leaned into me.  "And THIS is nasty," I said, sliding a hand down between her legs.  I did it so quickly, and my fingers were so slippery with soap, that one slid in her effortlessly.  I pulled, to put pressure on her clit.

"Awwwwwww," she moaned.

"You want to have an orgasm?" I asked in her ear.

She didn't say anything, but it looked like she nodded.

I wagged my finger in her, back and forth, and she tried to squat.  my finger held her up, though, and her head fell forward.  

She looked at my hand, between her legs.  If I'd thought about it, I'd have realized she'd never seen a man's hand there.  I also wasn't aware that her memories of me doing this to her earlier, in bed, were misty, and that this was feeling so much better.

"You're ... going to ... fuck me again ... aren't you?" she panted.

"Maybe," I said.  "That depends on you."

"I'll never ask you to," she groaned, through grinding teeth.  She was trying not to have the orgasm that was about to streak through her.

"OK," I said.  She almost cried out as my hand slipped up and out of her crotch, to cup her breasts and squeeze at the nipples there.

"You bastard," she grunted.

"Guilty as charged," I said in her ear.  "I think you're clean now."

"Wait!" she moaned.  "You can't do this to me."

"I'm only doing what you want me to ... remember?"  I rinsed her off under the water. "You wanted to feel a man's hands on you.  You got to.  It's what you wanted."

"You said you were going to let me cum," she moaned.

"You didn't say you wanted that," I teased.

She twisted in my grip, and finally faced me.  Instead of talking, she reached up with her lips for a kiss.  While our tongues dueled, she brought my hand to her pussy, and spread her legs.   I entered her again, this time with more difficulty, since the soap had washed away.  Instead of trying to go in farther, I diddled her clit with two fingers, and she moaned into my mouth.

I broke the kiss.

"You don't want an orgasm like this," I said.

"Why ... not?" she panted.

"You want my mouth there."

She shuddered.  "That's so nasty!"

I knew she was too stubborn to ask, or even approve, but she didn't stop me from doing things, so I turned the water off and dried her.  While I was on my knees drying her legs, I shoved my face against her and licked, trying to reach her pussy lips, grasping her firm butt cheeks firmly.  Her hands came to my head and held on, but didn't push me away.

"I could do this much better on the bed," I said.

"My mother's out there," she moaned.

I stood up and pushed her, and she went, stark naked, covering her breasts.  Heather and Babs were sitting, watching TV.  They saw her flaming red cheeks, and looked away.

She let herself be pushed onto the bed, and I didn't give her time to resist.  Within seconds, I had pushed her thighs wide, and was sticking my tongue as far into her pussy as I could.  She wiggled and moaned.  I found her clit and sucked, and she bucked under me.  I settled in to flick, with my tongue, over and over again, as her hips became more and more animated.

"Ohhhhhh ... please don't stop," she whispered.

When her orgasm hit she arched, and then sank back down.  Her legs crossed my back and her arms went flopping out to her sides.

"I didn't know," she whined.  "I didn't know."

I knew I could probably fuck her, then, but I didn't.  Instead I went to her breasts, and inserted my finger in her again.  She was plenty slippery now.  She flopped through two more orgasms, whining and gasping.

By ten-thirty that night, Jill was lying under me, voluntarily, and had brought my aching prick to her opening with her own hand.  I was digging my prick deep into her belly as she found out what it was like for this to happen when her brain wasn't fogged with alcohol.

She didn't complain when I fountained inside her.  All she did was moan "Ohhhh yesss, I remember this part."

Once converted, Jill was just like her mother.  I did sleep with her that night, and I mounted her twice more, in the dark.  She didn't resist at all, and, in fact, urged me on, with her hands.   In the morning, she walked, hand in hand with me to the shower.  This time, she learned all about my penis, as she washed it herself.

========================================================

Quite suddenly, Jill wanted to go to college.  Heather rewarded me with a kiss, but I couldn't get it up enough to do anything with it.

"That's all right," she sighed into my lips.  "It was for a good cause.  Anyway, I know where you live, and I have to bring my daughter to college in a week."

==========================================================

They did talk me into renting out my upper floor.  On paper, Jill lived at 2356 and a half Riser Street, which was the official address of my second floor.  She shared an entrance with me.  In reality, she shared a lot more with me than that entrance.  The second bedroom was hers, but she used it more as a closet than a bedroom, except for ten days a month.   The rest of the time she slept in my bed.  She was one of those women who loves to fuck in the morning, and woke up early just to ride me and get me to spurt in her belly so that, when she went to class, her pussy was full of spunk.  She said it made her feel sexy.

When her mother and aunt came to visit, which was about every two weeks, there was an extra bedroom for whichever two weren't sleeping with me.  They usually stayed a couple of days, so each woman got a full night with me, and, of course, a full pussy and womb too.

=====================================================

Then, they didn't visit for a month.  They called, and said they were busy with this, or that, and would get up to see us, but the date for that was always very vague.  Jill got excited about school, because it was so different than High School, and she could take the classes she was interested in.  Her homework level kept her pretty busy, as did her part time job in the university library.

Another month went by, and Jill began to show signs of stress.  Her lovemaking was almost frantic, and she cried into my shoulder as she told me she loved me.

"It's a tough transition, going to school and leaving home," I said into her hair, as I held her.

"You don't understand," she said, her voice muffled.  "I really do love you."

"I know," I said.  "I really do love you too."

"Do you?" she asked, pulling away from me.

"Yes," I said firmly.  "This isn't just about sex, though I'm having a heck of a good time."

"You must have," she said.  "I'm pregnant."   Her eyes said it all.  She expected me to frown, and push her away.

"Really!" I said.  "How interesting is that!"

"It's yours, you know," she said.  She'd been invited out on several dates, and I'd made her go on them.  She had a crush on me, but I wanted her to have the full range of social experiences.  "I don't let the guys I go out with fuck me."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. stroking her back.  "I kind of like being the only man who gets to do that."

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she whined.

"Have you thought any names yet?" I asked.

She blinked.

"This is serious!"

"Of course it is, but we have plenty of time to get a crib, and baby clothes and all that.  Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"Of course not!" she moaned.  "I had to wait for my second period to miss before I knew.  Well, three, actually.  I should have had one right after I met you, but I didn't.  I thought it was just because everything was so topsy turvy.  I've missed a period before, when I was really upset, or extra excited about something."

"Doctor, as soon as possible," I ordered.  "You have to take good care of my baby."

"I can keep it?" she asked, her voice very young.

"Of course you can," I said.

She finally believed me, and all but attacked me.  It wasn't until I was lunging into her again, bouncing the bed, that she put her hands against my chest.

"This won't ... hurt the ... baby ... will it?" she panted.

"Not a bit," I panted back.

"Ohhh good," she moaned, and started bucking against me again.

======================================================

"My mom is going to be furious," she said, as we rested, after I gave our baby a sperm bath.

"I doubt that," I said.  "After all, she's the one who got you started on all this."

"Yeah, but once I decided to go to college, she taught me how to track my cycle.  I did, honest.  That was all those times I sucked you off."

"I know," I said.  "Your mother just stayed away from me when she was fertile, but you can't do that."

"But it didn't work!" she moaned.

"Did you say you missed three periods?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Well, then, wouldn't that suggest you were already pregnant when you started tracking your cycle?"

She blinked again.  "Hey!  You're right!" she said.  "You got me pregnant that very first weekend!"

"And who made you do that?"  I smiled.

"My MOTHER!" she squealed.

"She can't very well get all upset about that, now can she?" I asked.

"So when do I tell her?"

"Wait and do that face-to-face," I counseled.

========================================================

By now Heather and Babs hadn't visited for two months, and Jill appeared to be three months pregnant.  I called Heather.

"You really need to get up here," I said.

"My daughter isn't taking care of you?" she laughed.

"She's taking very good care of me," I said.  "She needs to see you, though.  She misses you."  I had to be careful not to give anything away.  These things are better discussed in person.

"How sweet," said Heather's husky voice.  "We'll get up there, one of these days."

"I thought you couldn't keep away from me," I said.

"I'm doing much better now," she said.  "I got what I wanted.  My daughter is in college, and she has the best big brother, or uncle or whatever you are, to take care of her."

"She still needs to see her mother," I insisted.  "If you've found a boyfriend, that's fine.  I won't touch you.  But she needs to see you."

"I haven't found a boyfriend," she laughed.  "You're the only man I need.  I just don't need you as much as I used to.  That's all.  Besides, I call her three times a week.  You should know that."

"Yes, but she needs to SEE you!"

"All right ... don't nag.  I'll talk to Babs and we'll see about coming up there."

"Good," I said.  

========================================================

It was almost another month before Babs called and said they were coming up.  Jill wouldn't have to tell her mother what had happened.  She was already showing, and with her slim body, it was obvious that she wasn't just fat.  She looked like she had a pot belly, and I loved to see her naked because of it.  She had tried to cover it up for a while, but I convinced her to be proud of it.  Oddly, she got even more attention from men her own age.  Maybe it was because her fertility was obvious.

It was seven in the evening when we heard car doors slam out front.  Jill bounced to the window and peeked through the curtains.  She froze.

"Oh my GOSH!" she all but yelled.

"What?" I asked.

"OH MY GOSH!!" she squealed, and ran for the door.  She was out of it and screaming before I could react.  I got up and went to the door, looking outside, to see what catastrophe had happened.

Heather was hugging her daughter, and screaming just as loudly.  

They were having a hard time hugging each other.

Heather had a pot belly of her own, and Babs stood, grinning, smoothing her T shirt over her own swelling abdomen.

I sighed.  All three of them were about four months along.

I told you I never did anything by halves.


The End




