Breakfast the next morning was somewhat of a shock to me. Oh, it nothing to do with the waffles. Normally, we do not have waffles, but somebody had said something to the cook about them and she made some. I have to find a way to have more control over the servants. They seem to be influencing each other and I fear it may get out of hand.
No, the shock came from finding Francine, Kathryn AND Erika in backless dresses and high heels.
I almost choked on my sausage when I realized that Erika had worked on her face. Her eyebrows had been plucked, her lips given a light layer of pink gloss and her hair was flowing down her shoulders like black silk.
The other two women had carried out my orders. They had helped her in her appearance. That was not as much of a problem. No, the problem was the way she licked her lips at me and made a show of licking the sausage links before eating them.
To my wife, a better daughter was one who served the Lord of the House with her body and soul. I can only assume that my stepdaughter also had decided that a better daughter meant a sexy, willing one.
The REAL issue I had with all this was how it excited me to see them all in revealing outfits, playing with their food, as if it was some kind of foreplay. I fear the flood gates had opened up in my mind.
I wanted my daughter. Not my stepdaughter, my daughter by blood, and I wanted her with a lust that was almost out of control. Maybe because she looked somewhat like a younger version of my first wife. Maybe because I knew I could have her and make everybody, well almost everybody, cheer me on while I took her virginity. Alternatively, maybe it was the way she kept licking the fork and knife.
I almost choked on my orange juice when somebody decided to rub my leg with her foot. I do not even know which of the three women did it!
After receiving a sexy hug from my wife, my stepdaughter by marriage, and my daughter by blood, I escaped to the golf club. Well, I thought I had escaped. In fact, I had gone from one fire to another. You see, not all was well at the club. Oh no, not going well at all.
You see Holly was now eager to come along with Bob to play golf. Oh yes, she had gotten right into it, full speed ahead, steam to full power, all those sayings that mean she had grabbed the bull by the horns.
The club was unhappy. The members were unhappy. The staff was unhappy. Even Bob was unhappy. Not because she was terrible at it. Oh no. She was brilliant. She made the pros look like kiddies. She beat everyone, from her husband Bob to his friends, and his friends’ friends. She gave out advice like the Pale Rider gave out plagues. She pointed out how to hold the club, where to place one’s feet, how to hold one’s head.
Everybody was very unhappy. Many of my friends refused to come to the club and even, by Jove, spent time talking to the wife. Something had to be done. But what?
I realized it was my fault and, as my responsibility, I had to solve the problem.
I asked Holly, with a stern face, to step this way. Oh yes, I had her follow me to a private part of the course, with plenty of trees and bushes and birds. Nobody seemed to mind. In fact everybody seemed to cheer up, including Bob, who grabbed his golf bag and seemed to almost jog to the links.
“See here Holly,” I said with a loud, fatherly voice, as I wagged a finger at her. “See here, enough of this. You let your husband play alone. It is a good game but not for you. Ego is bad for the game. Yes, yes, a person with too much pride can hurt the club more than anything else.”
Holly just stared at me and said, “I will stop playing golf.”
Course, she continued to stand there. I have the impression that when one withdraws a behavior, or changes it, there is a void within the victim that required filling. She was now waiting for more, something to fill the gap, something to replace what had been erased or edited.
“My stepdaughter is throwing a proper tea party,” I exclaimed, grabbing at straws. “Why don’t you call up my wife and ask for an invention? I’m sure some older guests will liven things up, what?”
Holly nodded and said, “Yes.”
“And so cheer up, old girl,” I demanded before removing myself from the scene of the crime. “Remember, you like me and all Bob’s friends.”
Holly smiled. It was the kind of smile that made you want to call the men with the white jackets. Yet, at least it was a smile. Holly smiled the smile I have just described, and said, “Yes.”
Then she was off. Walked back to the front of the club, announced to those who were still there that she was going home, and did just that.
Once again, in my mind, I had cured an illness, saved the day, answered the question, and solved the problem.
I am an idiot.
You see, the party was that evening. Therefore, when I drove into the driveway of my estate, I found her car there, among about ten other cars, mostly two-seated roadsters. I was going to have to deal with over twenty young adults, many as boring as melting ice cubes, polished to a high shine by the ivy-covered schools. Holly and, of course, my family may make things more bearable yet, frankly, I doubted it.
In some ways Kathryn’s real friends would have made things lively and interesting. Costly maybe and, yes, even dangerous. However, lively. These guests were the direct result of hundreds of years of inbreeding, years of school bullying and traditions, plus a dozen years of home schooling in such skills as tea drinking, being a very important person, and insulting somebody indirectly so as not to be challenged in a duel. In other words, snobs. Not just any type of snobs. Old money English snobs.
Let me give you an example of how snobbish these kids were. They looked down on my title because I could not trace my family linage to the Bible.
Therefore, I entered the house, waiting for the insults, the snorting, and the fake smiles. To my horror I found young adults greeting me with warmth and happiness. Some of the girls were already licking their lips and running their hands down their dresses. In other words, my family had already given them ‘suggestions’ on how to behave towards the Lord of the Manor.
In addition, Holly was standing next to my wife, wearing something that a strip tease artist would have turned down. It was silk, almost see thru, and did little to her excitement at being there. For such a slim figure, she had very large nipples. Their made tiny tents in the dress’s thin fabric. There was no way not to notice them.
She still looked like a little girl. Now she looked like a little flapper girl but at least she had lightened up on the make up. On the other hand, maybe my wife had cleaned some of it off? I do not think I would ever know.
The sad part is that her total appearance had changed but she still reminded me of an underage girl. My cock, in other words, did not react at all.
Sad to say, many of the girls at the party were slim, young looking, and not in any way interesting. Not a shapely figure, outside of my own family, could be seen. The guys had better figures in some cases being horseback riders or golf players or hunters.
Let us not go DOWN that path of thought either. Well, not yet. Anyway, even with my knowledge that all of them would respond to my demands, I was really having no fun at all. Until I hit on the idea.
A wonderful, mean spirited, terrible idea. You will like it, I am sure.
I clapped my hands, to get their attention, and smiled at the crowded room. The party was in the living room with all kinds of drinks, food stuffs, and party games. It seemed jolly, normal, and as boring as you can get outside of going to Church.
“Listen up,” I said with a wink and grin, “My wife, my daughters, and Holly will come join me over here. The rest of you will clear the floor, there, toss on the few pillows to make a pile, and have a naked orgy for my entertainment.”
It is impossible to truly describe what happened next. For the next five hours, or so, I watched naked, panting, sweating young adults have a massive gang bang. Men licking smooth, white skin, as women moaned and fingered each others’ womanhood. Tits were squeezed, tongues interlocked, legs lifted and spread.
I sat down, and while watching the show, my wife Francine gave me a blow job, while Kathryn rubbed her breasts against my face. Then Holly gave me a blow job while my wife and my stepdaughter French kissed each other for my enjoyment. Holly needed help figuring out just how to give oral sex but in the end I think having a friend’s wife suck my cock was enough to make me cum a second time.
Sad to say, that was all Holly was good for. She was too slim and young looking for anything else. Sure, her pretty face was wonderful to watch as she tried to fit my cock into her mouth. The salvia dripping down her chin. Her swollen lips as she slurped on my shaft, trying to fit her mouth over it. The way her cheeks bulged as she pushed her head down into my groin, gagging, choking, and her eyes watering.
And afterwards, my white seed all over her lower face, make up ruined, lip gloss smeared all over - what more could you want?
Of course, as you could guess, I wanted Erika. She had watched, slowly playing with herself. She must have had very strong suggestions from Francine and Kathryn on, not just how to act, but how to feel. Her hard nipples, wet pussy and moaning suggested she felt horny just watching me getting a blow job from Holly.
I could not stand it. As Holly’s messy face was washed off by Francine’s eager tongue, Kathryn helped Ericka over to me, helping her straddle my cock. It was more than ready and soon my dark haired beauty was riding me.
My passion was boiling as she hugged me close, licked my ears, and told me how she was my third wife. Kathryn helped us both along to our climax by slapping Erika’s ass and leaning over to add kisses to her sister’s licking.
I took her virginity right there and then, my manhood exploding inside her. It is hard to describe because it was beyond words. So tight, so warm, so wet. She didn’t hold back - I doubt she could hold back. There was no fear, no holding back. Her mind had been too well prepared to serve her father’s her Lord’s, her master’s need. With Kathryn pinching her nipples, smacking her bucking ass, and talking to dirty to me there was no way for me TO hold back.
The background noise of the dozen women moaning and grunting, the sight of my wife and Holly licking each other like two happy puppies, and scent of freshly baked goods drive me over the edge. As I sprayed my sperm into my daughter I called out her Mother’s name.
Tired, sore, and smiling, I told them all to sit next to my chair and we could watch the rest of the orgy. Frankly, I got hard a few more times and had Holly, who seemed now to understand oral sex as much as she understood golf, to handle my needs. The others looked a tad jealous as they sat on the carpet, kneeling like harem girls, wet skin glistening in the lights. I ignored them.
The party soon ended and I made sure to explain to each departing guest that everything that had happened was nobody’s business. Nothing was to be said to anybody or they would not be invited to future parties. They all took that suggestion with a smile and a few even thanked us for the inviting them to the party.
Holly left, giving me a hug. I refused to kiss her, frankly, even after she had cleaned up. All I could see of her face was the cum that had covered much of her face near the end of the party. It had been like a sticky, shiny mask. It was gone now but I felt I could still smell it and I frankly was a tad grossed out by it all.
Also, I felt I could still feel Erika’s hot, pulsing inner flesh around my cock. It made my penis twitch and get hard but my mind felt alarm. Somewhere, in the dark corner of my mind, was a tiny voice saying that I had gone too far. But by now the police officer, that tiny voice of ethics and justice and law, that lived in the back of my head was unemployed and no longer a power to be worried about. He had lost the right to vote and was not living on tea and butter bread, his uniform rags, his chin unshaven.
Everything was going wonderfully!