CHAPTER SEVEN

   Back in the hotel room, both girls flopped onto their bed, still fully
clothed in their performance dresses, and just lay there.  They had spoken
to the press immediately after coming off stage.

   "That was amazing," said Bob.

   "You have no idea," said Gabby.  "I have never felt like that in any
performance, anywhere, any time."

   "Undress me, Uncle Bob," came Daphne's soft voice.  "I don't want to
move."

   "You want to just go to sleep?" he asked.

   She lifted her head.  "Oh no.  You're going to make me feel very
special, tonight.  I don't want this night to ever end."

   He worked on them both at the same time, unbuttoning buttons, and
stroking the skin he exposed.  He kissed their shoulders and necks, as they
arched to give him room.  They lay limply, making him roll them both to get
to their bra clasps, and making him drag their dresses off by force.

   When they were naked, he simply licked and sucked them both until they
tensed, whined, and then relaxed.  Just the one was enough for each of them
tonight, as they reveled in the feeling of what his tongue did to them
between their legs.

   "Now cum on us," sighed Daphne.

   "I thought you didn't want to move," he said.  "You'll have to get up to
go clean up."

   "You can bring us a washcloth," she sighed.

   So, he laid strips of semen across them again.  As he went into the
bathroom to get a washcloth, they scooped it toward their pussies, matting
their pubic hair and getting as much as they could in their young,
satisfied pussies.  Then they pulled what was left back up and had their
fingers back on their bellies when he came back with two washcloths, soaked
in warm water and wrung out.  Daphne lifted one finger up to look at the
drip of thick white on it, and remembered seeing pictures on the internet
of this in a woman's mouth.  Without thinking, she stuck it in her mouth
and tasted.

   She looked at Bob, surprised.  "You taste good!" she said.

   "What?" Gabby hadn't seen what she did.

   "Taste it," said Daffy.  "It tastes good!"

   "You don't have to do that," said Bob.

   Gabby scooped a dollop up and peered at it.

   "You sure?" she asked her sister.

   "If you don't want it, give it to me," said Daphne.

   Gabby put the finger to her lips and touched the glob of white with her
tongue.

   "I don't taste anything," she said.

   "Put it in your mouth!" ordered her sister.

   She did, and her eyes widened.  Then she put her finger down and scooped
up another dollop, and shoved that in her mouth too.

   "See," crowed Daphne.  "I told you so."

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

   The next morning it was the girls who were up early.  They had been
tired, the night before, but it was an emotional tiredness, which isn't the
same as a physical tiredness.  They promptly crawled in bed with their
uncle, and snuggled up to him.  He woke to find both of them playing with
his morning wood.

   "I have to pee," he said groggily.

   "Okay," said Gabby, who happened to be holding his prick at the time. 
"But wash it off before you come back."

   Bob knew things were spinning further out of control but, by this point,
he also knew there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it.  He knew they'd
end up giving him a blow job ...  that much was plain ...  and that wasn't
really too bad ...  really.  If all that sperm was in their stomachs, it
couldn't very well get anywhere else ...  right?

   The problem was that both of them wanted to taste him, straight from the
source.  They took turns, learning to suck and slide their lips along his
shaft, but each one was afraid that the other would have her mouth on it
when it squirted, so there was a lot of pushing and shoving, which let him
cool down.  As a result, he didn't go off in either mouth.

   "What's wrong?" asked Gabby, at one point.

   "You two are fighting over it so much, you're not getting to where you
want to be," he said, smiling.  He was having a great time, with two hot
mouths sucking at him.  As far as he was concerned, they could go on like
this for an hour.

   "Can you make it squirt, and then let each of us get some?" asked Gabby.

   "I could probably do that," said Bob.  "Are you sure you really want
that?"

   "I am," said Gabby, getting it in before Daffy could.

   "We're sure," said Daphne, shooting a dark look at her sister.

   Bob stood up, and both girls got on their knees, in front of his prick.

   "You two are something else," he said, staring at the two eager naked
girls in front of him.

   "Squirt!" demanded Daphne.  "You promised."

   Knowing he was about to blow his load in the mouths of the two nymphs in
front of him made it easy.

   "Open your mouths," he said in warning.

   They did, automatically sticking their tongues out.  He gave Daffy the
first shot, in honor of her initiating this new play.  Then he squeezed it
off and switched to Gabby's mouth.  His shot went straight to the back of
her throat and she coughed, but closed her mouth to retain his offering. 
He went back to Daffy, who had closed her mouth.  When she opened it,
strings of his spunk were strung between her upper and lower teeth.  He
gave her two shots, because Gabby was still coughing, but she reached out
and grabbed his hips, pulling her face to him, and her mouth enveloped the
head of his prick, to get her next dose.  He was merely oozing when she
pulled off, to puff out her cheeks, with her head tilted, as she tasted,
and then swallowed.

   "Not fair" groused Daphne.

   She pushed her sister, making her fall on her hip, and took Bob in her
own mouth, sucking the dregs out as he went limp.  Looking down at them,
Bob felt his heart thumping in his chest, as he realized he wanted nothing
more than to breed both of these gorgeous girls.  He stepped backwards,
closing his hand around his prick, as if he could control the urge that
way. The urge passed, and he sighed.  Both girls were masturbating, Daphne
still on her knees, and Gabby lying on the carpet now, digging at her
pussy. Bob went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face.  He thought
about the three days left on the tour.  Tomorrow they'd fly to Nurnberg. 
It would be a practice day.  There would be only one more performance, the
day after, before they flew back to the States.  He could last that long.
He'd have to last that long.  He didn't have a steady girl, back home.  He
hadn't had the kind of girlfriend he could call for sex in a year or two,
and he didn't know what he'd do when he got back.  He'd have to have a
woman.

   There was no doubt about that.

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

   They did their sightseeing in Vienna the rest of that day, which was
listed as a "rest day" on their schedule.  Again, they were treated like
royalty wherever they went.  By nightfall, they were physically tired, and
went to bed with no funny business.

   The next morning, they boarded a Lufthansa flight, and a short time
later, landed in Nurnberg.  The Meistersingerhalle was another beautiful
venue, sumptuous, and with the feeling of great age.  The spirits of
performers, past and present lent a feeling that you were never alone in
the hall, even during the girls afternoon practice session.

   The food in Nurnberg was also fabulous, no matter whether you went to a
big restaurant, or a tiny gasthaus on the outskirts of town, where there
might be a pile of manure ten feet tall, thirty feet from the
establishment. The richness of the fields of bright yellow mustard, or
barley proved the sense of recycling animal waste, and the Germans knew
that well.

   On their rest day in Germany, their host took them on an amazingly
speedy trip to a small town called Rothenburg, which was still surrounded
by a tall stone wall that had provided protection from invaders for
hundreds of years.  The girls watched as, in the town square, life-sized
mechanical figures rotated out of the top of the town hall, toasting each
other with mugs of beer as the clock struck.  They heard the story of how
the mayor had avoided being invaded by welcoming the Captain of the
opposing forces with beer.  The age of everything was obvious, and reminded
the girls that what they were playing had been written, in some cases,
while people had stood on these stone walls, repelling enemies.

   When the girls found out there were indoor swimming places, called
Schwimmbads, and that these had all kinds of slides and flowing rivers and
wave pools, they demanded that Bob take them shopping for swim suits.  Of
course they wanted bikinis, which the Germans excel at making as small as
possible.  Bob spent most of his time soaking in the pool, because climbing
the ladders to the tubular slides would have exposed his erection.

   The girls wore the wet suits back to the hotel and spent an hour teasing
him, until they finally took them off to hang in the bathroom to dry.  Bob
had given up trying to hide his erections from them, and when Daphne
suggested that breaking their "performance day only" rule on the last rest
day before returning to America wouldn't be so horrible, he gave in and lay
between them while they played with his prick, sucking it and licking it.
He got nervous when Gabby climbed on top of him and began rubbing her pussy
against his prick, but she only slid along the bottom of his boner while he
suckled her nips, giving her two orgasms in a row.

   He wanted to cum, but Daphne demanded her turn first, and replaced her
sister, to writhe on top of Bob, grinding her pussy into his cock.  He had
gotten her nipples to erect almost an inch, when she shuddered and wiggled
her way through an orgasm.  She stayed there, rubbing slowly, her head
drooping, and her hair tickling Bob's face.

   "Someday, I'm going to let you put it in me," she whispered to him.

   "Someday," he panted.

   "And when you do, I'm going to let you spurt way up inside me," she
moaned, rubbing faster.

   "Someday," he repeated, his mind fantasizing about that day.

   "I wish I could do it right now," she panted, lowering her face to
French Kiss her uncle.

   That was all it took, and Bob felt waves of hot spunk flowing onto his
belly.  He grunted, and Daphne looked down to see a mess of his cum right
in front of her pussy.  She couldn't help but slide forward, to rub her
pussy in that mess, and she whined her way through another orgasm.

   "No baby," gasped Bob, as he realized what she was doing.

   "I want to," she whined.  "I love your cum."

   He pushed her off of him, and she complained loudly, reaching to rub his
spunk deeper into her channel, slicking her fingers deep in her pussy.  Bob
would have stopped her from doing that, but Gabby fell on him, licking and
sucking at the sperm on his belly, and taking his prick into her mouth to
suck him dry.

   He scolded them both, when they had all gotten their breath back.  They
sat and listened, nothing on their faces, as he told them how dangerous a
thing they had just done.

   "Don't you GET it?" he asked, frustration in his voice.  "I want to FUCK
you both!  I want to do it every time I see you naked.  I want to do it
every time I hear you play.  I want to FUCK you!"

   He paced, and still, they sat there silently.

   "Well?" he asked.  He expected them to be horrified that their own uncle
wanted to mate with them ...  to breed them.

   "Why would that be so terrible?" asked Daphne, her face and voice
completely serious.

   Bob was stunned.  "You have GOT to be kidding me!" he shouted.  "You two
are at the beginning of one of the most amazing careers in the world.  You
are adored by thousands, maybe even millions of people.  You have so much
to offer the world.  Do you want to throw that away for fifteen minutes of
pleasure?"

   "Why would that be throwing anything away?" asked Daphne.  "People make
love all the time, and it doesn't ruin their careers."

   Bob was so frustrated that he was speechless.  She seemed so completely
serious about her simplistic view of the world.

   "For one thing, I'm your UNCLE!" he finally yelled.  "Do you think you
could keep something like that a SECRET?!"

   "I don't know why not," said Daphne calmly.  "Nobody would ever see us
doing anything.  Besides, it's none of their business."

   "It's not that simple, baby," he groaned.  "You're so young.  You have
your whole life ahead of you to find a man you love and make love with
him."

   "That's what some people said about us going on tour," said Gabby
suddenly.  "They said we were too young ...  that we didn't understand how
much work it would be ...  that we should wait." She looked at her uncle.
"Do you think we should have waited to start performing?"

   Bob groaned.  "That's not fair.  You know how much I love your music."

   "So what's the big difference?" she asked.  "I know I love you.  I know
I'll never marry you, or anything like that, but I love how you make me
feel, and I love it when you groan and spurt, because I know I helped you
do that." She stared at him.  "I can't think of any man I love more than
you, or any man I'd let put his penis in me EXCEPT you."

   Bob blinked.  Her voice was full of the passion of truth.  She believed
what she was saying, even if she was too young to understand the true
complexities of male/female relationships.

   "And what happens when you get pregnant?" he asked quietly.  "You can't
go on tour then, and after the baby is born, you'll be busy being a mother.
Your beautiful, important careers will come to an abrupt and painful end
then."

   Daphne snorted.  "I plan to keep making music until I'm too old to lift
a bow.  If you think I'm never going to have children because of music,
you're an idiot."

   "That doesn't mean you have to start having babies when you're only
sixteen!" he barked.

   "Okay, so we do the things necessary so that we don't get pregnant,"
said Gabby, as if the argument was settled.

   "Great!" said Bob, frustration coming back into his voice.  "I can't
WAIT to hear you ask your mother to put you on birth control pills so your
UNCLE can fuck you senseless!"

   Both girls looked uncomfortable at that.

   "You'll still help us get ready to play though ..." said Daphne, her
voice small.  "Right?"

   Bob sighed.  "As long as there's no more talk about you two losing your
virginities to me ...  deal?"

   "Deal!" said Daphne, smiling.

   "Now, go take a shower.  You have my sperm ...  sperm that could easily
make you very, very pregnant, all over your pussy." Bob felt silly that his
use of the word "pussy" seemed so completely intimate.  After what they'd
done, language should be the least of his problems.

   Daphne got up and stuck her hand between her legs.  "My pussy likes your
sperm," she said with complete dignity.  Then she stuck out her tongue at
him.  She danced away from him as he tried to swat her bare bottom.  He
turned to find Gabby standing there.  She melted against him, pressing her
naked front to his, and kissed him long and hard.

   "I really do love you," she whispered.  "I know you don't think I know
what that means, but we both love you, and not just as an uncle."

   "You promised," he sighed.

   "Daphne promised," said the girl, kissing him again.  "She didn't ask me
first." She kissed him again.  "I might even ask my mother to put me on
birth control pills.  What do you think of that?"

   Bob's jaw dropped.  He couldn't help but watch her naked buttocks, tight
and slim, as they rose and fell, her blond hair hanging to the middle of
her back.  Even though he had just cum ten minutes ago, he felt his balls
begin to ache again.

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

   The girls, whether they were miffed at Bob, or just decided to take it
easy on him, wore PJs to bed that night.  The next morning they left him
alone too, and concentrated on deciding what they'd do for an encore that
night.  They didn't ask Bob whether he wanted to play with them, but he
noticed that most of the songs they mentioned had piano parts, and were
pieces that Bob had played with them before.  Throughout the day, they
basically ignored him, in the sense that they didn't seek him out for
anything.  If they had something to say to him, they did.  If they didn't,
they did other things.

   They didn't ask for him to do anything before the practice session
either, and he found himself in the unenviable position of wishing they
had. Having two beautiful girls lavish attention on him appeared to be
addictive, even though his conscious mind told him over and over again that
it was better this way.

   All that changed when it came time to dress for the concert.

   Daphne shimmied out of her shorts and T shirt, and kicked off her
sandals.  She wasn't wearing either bra or panties.  She relaxed backward
in the chair, and spread her legs, looking at Bob through her eyelashes.

   "I want you naked tonight," she said.

   Gabby joined her, pulling another chair to sit beside her sister.  She
idly stroked a finger part way into her pussy, and watched Bob.

   It was the last night.  The next day they would fly home.  All he had to
do was keep things under control for another twenty four hours, and he'd be
home free.  Bob stripped.  He was already hard.

   The girls let him lick and slurp their pussies, and they shoved their
tender breasts into his lips.  Both of them held his penis while he did so,
but did not jack him off.

   "Five minutes" came the voice through the door.

   "I want you to touch my pussy with your penis," panted Daphne.

   "No," moaned Bob.

   "I'm not asking you to put it in me!" she barked.  "Just rub me with
it."

   They didn't have enough time to get into trouble, so he acceded to her
command.  His prick tip split her pussy lips, and he fisted his cock to rub
the tip in a circle over and around her clit.  She laid her head back and
sighed.

   Then it was Gabby's turn.  She tried to hump, to get him further into
her, but he was ready for that, and put his hand on her belly.

   "Naughty, naughty," he chided her gently, leaning over to kiss her.

   "Quickly!" panted Daphne.  "Make it squirt."

   He was on guard, and even though he was horny, he wasn't sure he could
perform on command.

   "I'm thinking of your prick inside me," panted Daphne.  "It's squirting
...  filling me up ...  making me pregnant with my Uncle Bob's baby!"

   Bob groaned, and he felt his balls bunch.

   "Me too," grunted Gabriella.  "You're all the way inside me, and it
feels so good.  I know you're going to fill me up and make a baby in me. 
I'm going to name her Chelsea, Uncle Bob ...  squirt in me!"

   Bob blew like a pressure cooker left on the stove too long.  It came
suddenly, and he was unprepared for it.  He tried to pull his prick aside,
but Daphne was suddenly standing in front of him, hugging him, and his
first shot splattered on her belly.  She jumped aside, as if they had
planned all this out, and Gabby crushed her body to his, pushing her pussy
against him.  He dosed her abdomen too.

   Then, both girls stood back, half crouched, and ran their hands through
his spend, to massage it into their pussy lips.  They even had a towel
there, to wipe their hands.

   Scrambling now, they got into their gowns, Bob's sperm still smeared
across their flat bellies, and soaking into their wet pussy lips.

   "Fuck!" Bob yelped, as he saw they had done this on purpose.

   "Maybe later," panted Gabby, grinning at him.  "Right now we have to
make music.  I feel like I could play for hours."

   Daphne zipped her sister and turned to let Gabby zip her up.  They
applied lipstick and grabbed their instruments.  Daphne stopped in front of
Bob, who was still standing there in shock, naked.

   "Get dressed," she breathed.  "We're playing for you tonight.  And we
both promise to be good later."

   Then they were out the door, leaving Bob feeling like he was completely
out of control of the situation.

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

   They were already playing when he finally got himself together, and got
re-dressed.  There was a small crowd of stage hands and a reporter standing
in the wings.  None of them noticed Bob at all, as he joined them.  They
were already captives of the girls.

   To Bob's ear the music was the same as it usually was.  The fast parts
raced, with notes being played at breakneck speed.  The slow parts seemed
to beckon the listeners, coaxing them along.  The harmonies were perfect.
He heard improvisation coming from the cello on one piece, but it fit
perfectly with what Daphne was playing on the violin.  Each time they
finished, the crowd clapped louder and longer until finally they bounded to
their feet.  There was whistling from the Germans and shouts of "Bravo"

   When the girls came off stage after the last piece, they were grinning.
The pushed through the small crowd to Bob and stood in front of him.

   "You want to play with us?" asked Gabby, winking slowly.

   Bob looked up and sighed.

   Daphne went back out alone, and the audience quieted instantly.  She
leaned into the microphone.

   "Thank you so much," came her mellow voice.  "You've been so kind ... 
all of Europe has been so kind to us."

   That got thunderous applause.  She waited until they went quiet again.

   "Some of you may know that we've also had a lot of fun on this tour,
playing some odd music for encores.  We thought we'd ask you what kind of
encore you'd like."

   There were shouts, so many they couldn't be deciphered, and she held up
her hand.

   "By applause, how many of you would like something classical?"

   There was heavy applause, but almost no voices.

   "And how many would like something a little less formal?"

   The place went crazy.  It was obvious that people loved seeing such
accomplished musicians let their hair down and play something that had
roots in the common stock.

   "We'd like our Uncle Bob to play with us ...  would that be all right?"
she asked.

   Again there was foot stomping and yells.  Stage hands were already
pushing a grand piano out onto the stage, behind the girls' chairs.

   Gabby was still holding Bob's hand and she whispered what they were
going to play in his ear, to give him a little more notice this time.  In
self defense he began thinking about the music, and didn't look at or
acknowledge the audience.

   Daphne spoke again.  "This is called 'Hold the woodpile down'.  If you
want to clap along, that's fine."

   The arrangement they had played with this song had the piano start
first, and the fiddles joined in, first one, and then both.  Bob just
started playing, and held on for the ride.  He tried to concentrate on the
fiddles, so that he was supporting them rather than calling the cadence. 
It was obvious the girls wanted to play around, so when they started a
series over, putting a coda where there wasn't one on the sheet music they
didn't have, Bob just rolled back into his part too.  In truth, the
microphones were a little too far away from the girls mouths.  As it turned
out later, because of that, this recording was the only one that couldn't
be used, but the audience didn't seem to mind.  They stomped and shouted
and sang the wrong words anyway, because few, if any, had ever heard this
tune.  They didn't care, though.  Watching the girls duck and weave, each
standing when she had the lead, and sitting when she was in support, and
hearing the strange music was more than enough.

   When they finally wound down, there was a chorus of "YEEEE-HAWWWW"s from
the audience and the girls laughed, beaming and bowing, and pointing
repeatedly at Bob, who finally stood and waved at the crowd.

   Then it was over, and Bob lurched off stage, a girl on each arm.

   There were interviews, again done without changing clothes first.  Then
the girls supervised the packing of their instruments, for shipment back
home.  Special desiccant packets were packed inside the containers, to deal
with changes in humidity.  Finally, things wound down and the girls
disappeared into their dressing room.  They did not ask Bob to come with
them.

   They were taken to a tiny Gasthaus, where nobody knew them, and served a
meal of Jagerschnitzel with fried potatoes and a drink called Spatze, which
was a mix of cola and orange sodas that was delicious.  Daphne asked for
ice cubes and the proprietor said "Ahhh, American, yah?" He returned with
the ice cubes and then sat down to talk.  He stayed with them for the
entire meal, speaking in passable English.  He left the table to return
with shot glasses of peppermint schnapps, which were he proudly said were
"on the house." He insisted that the girls be allowed to drink them, and
Bob let them.

   On the ride back to the hotel, in the big Mercedes that had been
provided for them, they all lay back in the seats, stuffed to overflowing,
and groaning.

   In the hotel room, the girls approached Bob, and undressed him, telling
him they just wanted to taste him, tonight.  They made love to his penis
slowly, at first, with one stroking him and sucking, while the other kissed
him with open mouth and lots of tongue.  They let him suck at their
nipples, and insert a thick finger into them, but didn't try for orgasms.
He gave them to them anyway.  When he announced he was close, Gabby took
over and stroked him fast, like she had seen him do before.  She let Daphne
hover over his prick, to take the first spurt, but was jacking so furiously
that it went on her cheek, instead of into her mouth.  Then Gabby accepted
the second spurt and rolled to her back to savor the taste, while Daphne
went on to suck him dry.

   Daphne wiped her cheek with two fingers, and, as if they had practiced
this before, she smeared those two fingers against two of Gabby's.

   "We won't put them inside us," panted Daphne.

   But they did rub their clitties to orgasm, with his sperm on their
fingers.  Bob could only thank his lucky stars that this was the last
night, and that, after tomorrow, he'd be safe.
