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Subject: Barbie by Phil Phantom
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Copyright © 1997,  Phil Phantom,     ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.





BARBIE
by Phil Phantom

Three months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mother of
three--two boys, Phil, 15; Joey, 13; and a girl of twelve, Sandy. 
My husband, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's
office.  Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably
never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci
and Joe.  I was so straight, if I masturbated more than once a
month, I felt guilty. 

The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the
extreme.  Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today.  I
freely admit I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut.  Sex is all I
think about, and no perversion turns me off.  I want my sex down
and dirty, filthy and disgusting.  

In fantasy, I wanted everyone to know the new me.  In reality, I
didn't want to advertise that fact, but I had no desire to
reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.  

I was like the junkie that knows where the addiction will lead,
but doesn't want help.  I feared my sexual addiction would
virtually destroy my marriage.   I'd lose my children and
possibly wind up in prison.  I couldn't help that.  The risks
outweighed the consequences, because the sex was that good.

I love Staci for what she's done.  She took her time with me, got
to know me, inside and out, then began her expert manipulations
that led me to where I am now.  The journey has been a long and
difficult one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my
father would say.  Eight months of patient prodding has paid off
for both me and Staci.  

Staci adored me from our first meeting.  Her husband is a police
detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common.  Staci and I
had nothing in common.  In fact, I found her rather dull and one
dimensional.  She's also rather plain and plump with short
cropped hair and a pudgy face.  She dropped out of high school,
whereas I am working on my masters in English.  I found her
childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her
language atrocious.  In mixed company, I laughed uneasily at her
crude jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left
me speechless.  

I'd never heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life:
S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking sons, fathers raping
young daughters, women having sex with animals, mothers watching
dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, wives
taking on troops of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young,
dogs on little girls.  She had my head swimming in a swamp of
perverse sex.

Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. 
I felt like I had to indulge her.  I had to listen to her stories
and laugh at her jokes.  Her stories were always about someone
she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct
knowledge of.  I felt like she was simply fantasizing out loud,
and I thought she was a very sick woman.  

What I found particularly disturbing was that her vile fantasies
worked their way into my tame fantasies like an invading virus,
pushing my simple, relatively clean daydreams of romantic love
out; replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with
me as the feature performer.  I stopped my monthly practice of
masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a daily
session of self abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or
ass, anywhere in the house.  

After six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own
pussy.  Staci planted that idea in my head as well.  She told me
a story about a female gymnast with a hunger for her own pussy. 
Being an ex-gymnast and volunteer cheerleading coach, I figured
I'd give it a whirl.  I almost broke my back in the attempt, but
a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush
handle was no longer enough.

We didn't always sit for stories.  Most of our time together was
spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up,
giving me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me
constantly.  We shopped for clothes a great deal, with Staci
making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager.  I
deferred to her and wore what she picked out.  I let her clear
out my closet of all my modest dresses, tossing out every pair of
pants I owned.  I wore only short dresses at Staci's insistence. 
I became Staci's live Barbie Doll.  My boring life ended when I
came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll.

Staci worshiped my body, every inch of it.  According to Staci, I
had the perfect female form.  I have always thought of myself as
being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top heavy. 
Furthermore, I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack
next to a shit hole.  

She convinced me I was beautiful to the extreme, especially
between my legs.  This took some convincing, but she soon had me
comfortable even when languishing before her with my legs wide
apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure--a
cunniecure as she called it.

A cunniecure began with a scented douche and involved a close
shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and
ended with a dab of perfume.  I liked her cunnicures, but hiding
the result from my husband was impossible.  My first cunnicure
prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture.  

In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat.  I
remember being incensed at the mere suggestion.  This time, I
listened attentively as he said, "Theresa, I'm not the type of
man that lives in fear of his wife cheating on him.  I won't have
you followed.  I won't question your activities or the way you
dress.  I won't snoop or ask questions.  You can come and go as
you please.  If I ever find out that you cheated on me.  If I
ever get proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you
wish you had never been born."

That was it.  I simply nodded my understanding, but I didn't
quite understand.  He didn't elaborate on what he'd do exactly. 
Max wasn't the type to ever hit a woman.  He had never threatened
me with divorce.  I could only imagine what wishing I'd never
been born entailed.  Max is a big man, a man of John Wayne
stature who could snap my back with one hand.  I seriously
doubted he would physically harm me, but the thought never left
my mind.

I thought he might force me to undergo a breast reduction or a
cliterectomy.  Perhaps, he'd tattoo the word "Whore" on my
forehead.  He might fit me with a chastity belt.  Staci and I had
a good laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening
lecture, oddly enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me
down the road of adulterous affairs.

I steadfastly refused.  Staci steadfastly persisted.  When we
went out, she made the purpose clear, and that was to find me a
man to fuck.  She made me feel like meat on a hook the way she
dressed me.  I could expect Staci to lift my skirt in public to
show an attractive admirer that I wore no panties.  I always
protested these outrages, but never hard enough to stop them.  

She also brought men to my house during the day.  If a plumber or
salesman stopped at her house, I could expect him to stop at mine
with Staci.  Once in my house, I had to endure Staci's
embarrassing urging for me to expose myself to the interested
stranger.  I always put up stiff resistance; but, more often than
not, I ended up naked and doing vulgar poses.  I absolutely
refused to permit touching, but I posed for pictures, danced on
tables, masturbated with Staci's dildoe collection, and allowed
the men to jack off on my body.

Staci pushed friendship beyond the limits and pushed marital
fidelity to the limit.  I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper
toward adultery.  I felt crazy even considering adultery.  I had
the perfect cock right at home.  Max has a remarkable cock,
eleven inches and thick, thicker in the middle, like a slender
football, a real pussy pleaser.  The only problem was, I wasn't
getting that cock enough due to his traveling schedule.

I knew cheating was just a matter of time if I didn't end the
relationship with Staci.  Ending the relationship seemed
impossible, though.  Each week, she had me dressing sluttier and
sluttier, even around my family.  

The kids didn't know what to make of my new wardrobe.  Whenever
I'd see their accusing eyes roam my scantily-clad body, my
husband's threat played in my mind, reinforcing my determination
not to allow penile penetration under any circumstances.      

Max's reaction (or rather, lack of one) to the way I was dressed
and made-up gradually put me at ease.  True to his word, he never
questioned me.  I could leave the house at ten in the evening,
looking like a two-dollar whore, and Max would not lift an
eyebrow.  If I returned at three A.M., Max would not grill me. 
He would not check my pussy to see if I was loose or messy.  I
never was, but he didn't know that.  I presumed he didn't want to
know.  Staci said he didn't want to inhibit me.

This strange behavior almost had me convinced that Staci had been
correct in her analysis of Max's message.  She said, "Max is
telling you to fuck around, but be discrete about it.  He is
telling you to have your fun, but don't get caught.  He just
doesn't want your cheating brought out in the open.  Lots of men
are like that, Theresa, especially men that are away from home as
much as Max is.  Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, girl.  Go
get you some cock."

I couldn't believe this was true about Max, but she did make
sense.  Before I was ready to try my first adulterous affair, I
wanted a better test.  Max was to be home all weekend; so, on
Friday night, Staci and I went out.  I never looked sluttier. 
Staci had me in a tight patent leather mini skirt, fishnet hose,
a push-up bra under a transparent blouse, wearing five-inch
heels.  I not only looked like a whore, I felt like a whore, and
walked like a whore.  Five-inch heels will make any five foot
woman walk like a whore.  My kids saw me in this outfit, and they
were stunned.  Max just told me to be careful as we left the
house.

We stayed out all night.  I slept at Staci's house after we did a
little bar hopping.  When we saw activity in my house the
following morning, I walked across the street.  Before making
that walk, Staci added the finishing touches to my appearance. 
The bra was gone.  The panties were gone.  My blouse had two
buttons missing.  I had a broken heel, so I carried my high
heels, and I also carried my hose.  My hair was a wreck, and my
lipstick was smeared.  I looked thoroughly fucked, but my pussy
was tight, fresh, and clean, just in case he confronted me, which
I was certain he would do.

I entered my house as nervous as a fucked nun returning to the
convent.  Max was serving breakfast to the kids when I eased in. 
They all stopped to stare.  I tried to move on up the stairs, but
only managed to go up five or six steps before Max halted my
progress by saying, "Are you hungry?"

I couldn't believe it.  Did he really ask, "Am I hungry?" and in
a calm serious tone?  I was looking down on the dining table just
below.  More importantly, they were looking up, up my naked legs. 
I wasn't sure how far up my legs they could see, but they didn't
need to see far to know I had no panties on.  Excitement coursed
through me.  On impulse, I moved closer to the rail, facing them. 
With one foot on the step above, I'm sure the kids could see my
shaved pussy.  Their expressions and hard stares at my crotch
told me that much.

Max remained cool.  He couldn't see up my skirt from his standing
position on the far side of the table, but he saw my provocative
stance.  He knew I was intentionally showing my beaver to the
kids.  I said, "Maybe.  What are you serving?"

"What do you want?"

"Oh, eggs and toast would be nice.  Hot coffee would be extra
nice.  I'll freshen-up and be right down."

He said, "You can freshen-up after breakfast.  Here, take my
seat.  I'm finished."

My heart raced as I contemplated his unexpected offer.  I
expected a scene, but I didn't want that scene to unfold before
the children.  Max's tone, however, did not suggest a scene was
forthcoming, and that really had me intrigued.  My clit tingled
at the notion that my husband wanted me to hang around the family
in the condition I was in.  I mulled the offer for a second, then
shrugged and marched down the five steps.  Max held the chair for
me, and I sat.

Max returned to the kitchen to cook my eggs, pop in some toast,
and pour my coffee.  While he was away, I exchanged smiles with
my amused children.  I could see "Whore" written on all their
faces, and I loved what I was seeing.  I asked if everyone had
slept well.  Phil, my oldest, asked if I had.  I smiled and said,
"I slept some, but not much.  I'll nap after breakfast."

Max was listening in as Joey said, "Where did you sleep, Mom?"

I said, "Here and there, Joey.  Where did you sleep?"

He didn't answer, he just smiled knowingly.  Sandy said, "You
never stayed out all night before."

"No, I suppose not."  

Max returned with my coffee and said, while setting the cup
before me, "I thought I told you kids, no prying.  What adults do
with their time is no business of yours."  He addressed me,
saying, "Your eggs and toast will be right out."

I smiled warmly and said, "Great, I'm starved."

Before returning to the stove, he said, "You look like you might
be."

That was it.  That one statement came as close as Max got to
implying I'd done anything improper.  He joined me while I ate my
breakfast.  The kids remained, though they were finished. 
Everyone watched me eat.  Afterward, I got up, took a shower,
took a nap, and woke around noon to emerge in a tiny bikini we'd
purchased the previous evening.  

I announced that Staci and I had a date to go swimming in a
private pool.  Max didn't ask whose private pool.  When Phil
tried to ask, Max cut off the question, then berated him for
prying again.  I sauntered out the door, almost naked in heels.

We had no private pool to go to, so Staci drove me aimlessly
while I told her about my remarkable morning.  She was pleased,
but not surprised.  I was pleased and excited, but still not
prepared to cheat.  Staci thought I had no excuse, and lobbied,
once again, for a trip to visit her father.  

Staci's mother died three months after Staci and I met.  Her
father, who she loved dearly, became a despondent recluse.  Staci
thought he needed cheering up, and thought a roll in the sack
with me would be just what the doctor ordered.  A day did not go
by that she didn't press the issue.  With the crutch I'd been
leaning on severely weakened by Max's apathy, and with the
inevitability of adultery looming on my horizon, I couldn't say
no.  Besides, I was pretty fucking horny just from basking in the
hungry, appreciative, and accusing eyes of my children.  I said,
"All right, but just a quickie, and just this once." 

Staci was elated, and drove like a maniac.  She led me up the
walk by my elbow, and entered the house without knocking.  Bill,
Staci's father, didn't know we were coming.  We arrived at two in
the afternoon, and Bill was still in bed.  The place was a shit-
house mess and reeked of stale beer and tobacco.  His bedroom was
like a cave.  He'd blocked the windows with foil.  I regretted my
decision as soon as we entered the house.  

Whatever arousal I felt at the thought of my first adulterous
act, even with an old codger, went away with the first whiff of
stale air.  The sight of Bill made me want to run.  I would have,
too, but Staci had a firm grip on my elbow, prodding me further
into the cluttered bedroom.  He looked pale and under-nourished
with a three-month growth of beard.  He peered at us with eyes
sunk in.  He had smoke-stained teeth and long, dirty fingernails. 
Every girl's dream.       

Bill sat up in bed as Staci flipped on his light.  I still wore
only my bikini and high heels, so his eye rubbing wasn't all from
too much light.  Staci said, "Look what I brought you, Dad."

Bill ran his eyes over my body, saying, "What do you mean, you
brought me?"

"I brought her for you, Dad.  She's a whore."

I turned beet red and looked at Staci like she had a lot of nerve
to be name calling when I was willing to perform this mission of
mercy for her.  My mouth was still open as Bill said,
"Sweetheart, you shouldn't be spending your money on no whores
for me.  If I wanted a gad damn whore, I could pick up the
fucking telephone.  Take her back.  Maybe you can get your money
back."

I thought, "That bastard!  He's rejecting me?"

I looked to Staci as she countered, "No, Daddy.  She's not a
working whore.  She's a slut whore.  She's married and has kids. 
She's the neighbor I told you about.  Remember?  Theresa Blake."

This peaked Bill's interest.  He reached for his bedstand and
retrieved the glasses thereon.  He put his glasses on and studied
me with new interest.  Oddly, I found myself sticking out my
chest.  Just as I took a deep breath, my top sprang free.  Staci
had pulled the back tie.  I fought the reaction to cover myself
as she said, "Check out these boobies, Daddy.  Nice, huh?"

"Not bad.  Not bad at all.  Lets see the rest of her."

I had to fight harder as Staci's hands went for my bottom ties,
but I stood steady as the bottoms came loose and fell to my feet,
leaving me naked in my heels.  She said, "How about this slut's
pussy, Daddy?  Is this a pussy, or what?"

My blush deepened, partly from arousal.  I hardly had time to
bask in Bill's appreciative stare before Staci rudely spun me
about and shoved my head down between my knees, saying, "Check
out this fine ass, Pops."  She rudely pulled my cheeks apart, and
added, "She's a three holer, and you can cum in her pussy.  It
may interest you to know that she's not protected."

This was too much and called for a challenge.  We needed to
discuss this detail.  I assumed I'd be getting a quick poke with
a dick sheathed in a condom, or he'd pull out.  I never hinted
that I'd let a man cum in my pussy, ever.  Furthermore, she
added, "She wants to go home with cum running down her legs to
see what her old man will do.  I figured you'd help us out."

I was floored.  How dare she, I thought?  No way could I walk in
with sperm on my legs.  Strangely, the very idea and mental image
had my juices boiling.  The impulse to challenge Staci weakened
dramatically.  She dropped to her knees with her left cheek
resting on my left ass cheek, bringing her left hand under to hug
my hip from below while the right teased my wet sex and entered
my pussy.  

She purred, "She's a hornie little slut, Daddy.  She needs a man
with a big load to impress her hubby and kids.  Yes, her three
kids will see her spermy legs too."

Bill swung his legs to the floor, sitting on the edge of the
mattress right behind me.  His bony fingers joined his daughter's
as he said, "Damn, this is fine pussy, Staci, fine pussy.  You
done good, kiddo.  You say her kids will see my cum on her legs,
huh?"

"Absolutely.  I plan to enter the house with her to see their
reaction."

They had me breathing hard, warming quickly to their fingers and
their exciting words.  In all the stories Staci told involving
incest, she never once told a story involving her and her father. 
By hearing their exchange, it was clear to me they had more than
a normal father/daughter relationship, even if they weren't
fucking.  

Staci's incest stories were my favorite and were chiefly
responsible for my recent obsession with thoughts of fucking my
own sons and imagining my daughter with Max.  Her stories drove
me to outrageous behavior around my kids when Max was away. 
They'd seen me naked dozens of times, and each had caught me
masturbating several times.  Sandy even caught me using her hair
brush handle as a dildoe.  

The lewd exchange between Staci and her Dad kept me in place and
kept me silent.  Talking about me and not to me gave me a huge
thrill.  I felt like raw meat with no say-so and no opinion. 
Speaking up would have spoiled the effect.  I hung on every word
in silence, getting hotter by the second.

Bill said, "Does she have a daughter?"

"Yes, Daddy, and you'd love her.  Sandy is only twelve, cute as a
bug, and she has tits, nice handfuls.  She looks just like her
mother in miniature."

"Is she petite like her mom?"

"Yes, she'd look nine or ten if it weren't for her womanly
figure.  She's adorable, Daddy, and I'll bet she's tighter than
Stephanie Williams.  You remember Stephanie Williams from third
grade."

"Hell yes, I remember.  Tighter than Stephanie, huh?"

"I'm sure of it, and virgin besides."

My mind was in turmoil.  What the hell was Staci up to, I
wondered?  How dare she suggest my Sandy to what I now knew was a
seasoned child molester.  How many little girls had she acquired
for her father, and why wasn't he fucking me?  I needed fucking
now more than ever, and they just kept on playing stink finger in
my soupy twat.

Bill said, "I'll make you a deal, Staci.  You get me this Sandy,
and I'll screw the bitch for you.  I'll screw her good, too. 
I've got a week's worth of sperm built up.  She'll have sperm
over-flowing her high heels by the time you deliver her to her
hubby and kids.  What do you say?  Do we have deal?"

"It's a deal, Dad.  Let's shake on it."

They took their hands out of my pussy to seal the deal.  I felt
like shouting, "Just accept a verbal contract and get on with the
fucking, will ya?"

Moments later, after Staci sucked her father's cock to get him
good and hard, I got my much-anticipated screwing.  The old
pervert wasn't bad.  His dick was a bit of a disappointment in
girth, but any woman would be impressed by its length.  He had
the perfect ass-fucking cock--ten inches of uniform thickness. 
For cunt fucking, what he lacked in bulk, he made up for in
technique.  A woman with my Max up her cunt and Bill up her ass
would be in seventh heaven.  My womb received a good sperm
douche.  Max never came like Bill did.  The old guy, true to his
word, dumped a big load in me.  

After he dumped his load, Staci stood me straight and began
replacing my top.  She let the cum ooze from my twat until she
was satisfied, then replaced the bottoms.  At the door, on the
way out, Staci said, "I'm going to be bringing Sandy by tomorrow
afternoon.  You shave and shower.  Get this dump cleaned up, and
let some light in.  Open the fucking windows, and spray
something, anything.  If this place isn't presentable, I'll march
her right back out and you can go jack off."

Bill said, "I'll have me and the house clean and smelling sweet. 
You just see she's wearing something cute and sexy.  And see that
she's not wearing panties."

Naturally, I was shocked by this exchange.  I decided to set
Staci straight about Sandy as soon as we got back in the car.  I
should have said something when the matter was first brought up. 
I should have stopped the deal.  I should have told Bill he
needn't go to the trouble of cleaning his dump or taking a
shower.  I didn't say anything, and didn't know why.  I did know
that silence, as far as Staci was concerned, was my acceptance,
and the longer I remained silent, the stronger my acceptance
became.  

Once back in the car, while looking at my thoroughly saturated,
slimy, sticky, messy legs, I forgot about Sandy.  When I found my
voice, I said, "Staci, we can't go in the house with me looking
like this."

"Bullshit!  Trust me, Theresa.  Max will get a big charge out of
this, and the kids will eat it up.  There will be three hardons
and a juicy twat after they see you."

"If Max sees this, I'll wish I'd never been born."

"Bull.  If Max would do anything to you, he'd have made a
specific threat.  Wishing you were never born is the same as
saying, 'I'll do nothing, nothing at all.'"

"That's easy for you to say."

"Trust me.  I'm telling you.  Max does not want to see sperm on
your legs.  He'll ignore what he sees, or accept whatever excuse
you offer."

"Yeah, like what the hell could I say that would explain a thick,
creamy, white fluid running from my crotch to my heels?"

"Tell him it's suntan lotion that you forgot to rub in.  Tell him
you dropped a jar of hand cream, and it splashed up your legs. 
Tell him a dog humped your leg and had an accident.  Tell him
anything.  He'll buy whatever you tell him.  Trust me."

I looked at my sperm-drenched legs and shook my head.  If Max
bought any of those stories, I'd fuck my own father while sitting
on my mother's face.  Still, if Staci was right, and she'd been
right all along, I'd be in for the sexual experience of a
lifetime.  I would love to be able to walk in my house, before my
whole family, dripping semen from my freshly-fucked cunt.  As my
driveway loomed ahead, I resolved to give it a shot.

My resolve diminished greatly as the car came to a stop and Staci
reached into my crotch.  I said, "What are you doing?"

Staci had the crotch piece pulled aside and dipped a finger into
my spermy well.  She smeared the sperm on my left cunt lip and
adjusted the crotch so that the left edge nestled in my crack,
completely exposing my left labia and clit, saying, "Let's do
this up right if we're going to do this at all."

I stared at the obscene display in my crotch and said, "Let's not
do this at all, then.  If you think I'm going in with half my
cunt hanging out in the open, you're nuts."

"You look sexy as hell this way, Theresa.  Look, they all believe
you went out to get laid.  You were willing to let them see the
evidence.  They've all seen your shaved pussy, all of it, so
what's wrong with putting everything together for dramatic
effect?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong.  Max will kill me if I go in like
this, especially in front of the kids.  This is not being
discrete, Staci.  This is flaunting my adultery in his face. 
Besides, I never agreed to this."

"I agreed for you.  Look, when Max said be discrete, he meant
with other people, people outside the home, the public, not your
family.  Max doesn't give a fuck what the kids think.  He proved
that this morning, didn't he?"

Once again, Staci had me questioning my judgement and seeing her
side as the rational interpretation.  She was right.  Max didn't
seem to worry about what the kids thought.  I looked in my crotch
again, and a wicked thrill coursed through me at the thought of
going in like that.  

A multitude of provocative questions ran through my mind.  Could
I actually walk in and make anyone believe that I was unaware of
my exposure?  Did it really matter that they believed?  Could I
be this shockingly brazen and get away with it?  I had to find
out.  With fatalistic aplomb, I said, "Let's go."

We'd been sitting in the driveway long enough to give everyone
inside the house time to move to the living room to await my
entrance.  Still, I wasn't sure anyone would be there.  By the
time I reached the door, I was actually hoping they'd all be
behind the door.  I figured, "What the hell.  If I'm going to
blow it now, and wish I'd never been born, I may as well go down
in a blaze of glory.  Do it right, or don't do it at all, as
Staci would say.  Whether from excitement or arousal, my knees
were ready to buckle.  How I walked steady, I'll never know, but 
I did.

I entered with my head up, shoulders back, chest out, strutting
my stuff.  All four were in perfect positions.  Max sat in his
easy chair, reading a law book.  Sandy and Joey were sprawled on
the floor watching the TV.  Phil sat on the love seat nearest the
door.  When they saw me, Max closed his book.  Sandy and Joey sat
up, facing me.  Phil sat forward and turned my way.  I could have
reached out and laid a hand on each of them, they were that
close.

Max ran his eyes over my legs, peering over his bifocals.  He
said, in a calm voice, "What happened to you?"

I said, "What?  You mean the mess?"

"Yes, I mean the mess."

"I dropped a jar of hand cream as we were getting into the car. 
The contents splashed up my legs."

Max eyed me and my crotch suspiciously, ran his eyes up one leg
and down the other, then said, "I see.  I hope you weren't in a
public place."

My confidence grew.  He was acting exactly as Staci had
predicted, just like he had earlier at the breakfast table.  I
said, "We weren't.  It was private, very private."

"Good, because your suit needs adjusting."

I peered innocently between my legs with my knees bowed out and
exclaimed, "Well, I'll be."  I pulled the crotch piece out
further, completely exposing my pussy, saying, "My goodness. 
That stuff splashed clear up here.  What a mess."

I watched a thick drool gather on the lips at my hole, so I know
they saw it too.  That drool got bigger and bigger, elongating,
then dropping between my feet as another formed.  Staci came
around to see for herself.  I didn't have anything to say, so
Staci said, "You're right, that cream got you dead center looks
like.  I'll get some paper towels and clean that mess off.  Here,
we'd better get these off you."

Staci deftly untied both ties at my hips and let the saturated
suit bottoms fall with a wet splat on the hardwood floor.  The
crotch landed inside up, displaying a thick puddle of cum right
where my pussy hole rested.  The vulgar scene I presented
demanded comment, but no one said a word, not even Max.

I was still hunched over, looking between my legs when Staci
returned with the roll of paper towels.  She knelt behind me so
as not to block anyone's view, then set about wiping out my high
heels, taking them off one at a time, replacing each bare foot
wider than it had been.  After the second heel was wiped clean, I
stood with my feet wide apart, obscenely wide.  

I stood up straight and basked in the hard stares centered in my
crotch, more specifically at the base of my pussy crack.  Semen
continued to drip from my cunt to fall on the suit bottoms,
adding to the puddle already there as Staci concentrated on my
lower legs, taking her sweet time moving up.

I was surprised that so much cum was still inside me, but I had
been seated most of the time following the deposit.  Still,
standing erect for so long brought down a steady flow of cum that
dripped steadily to the floor.  With everyone's eyes focused on
my leaky twat, I could let my eyes survey my audience. 

Sandy looked enthralled, having never seen semen before, I
presumed.  Joey had a look of pure astonishment.  He bravely
scooted closer, looking up my left leg into paradise.  Phil was
on the edge of the cushion, leaning far out, peering into my
crotch from around my right hip.  Max sat casually, observing
everything, but rarely making eye contact with me.  He did appear
surprised by my brazen display and casual attitude.  I'd have
given anything to know his thoughts.  If he'd have just moved the
book off his lap, I'd at least know if the scene turned him on. 

Staci was obviously enjoying her role.  I knew she would do
something to make the scene even more vulgar.  I waited and
wondered.  She finally mopped my inner thighs and my pussy was
all that remained.  She'd been silent to this point.  I felt my
pussy lips being pried open and heard Staci declare, "My
goodness, girl.  How did you manage to get that cream up inside
your vagina?  Good lord!  It's everywhere.  What you need is a
good douching to clear this mess out."

Staci wiped my crack and then slapped my fanny, saying, "Come on,
lets get you in the bathroom."

The show was over.  We walked into the master bath and shut the
door.  We both cracked up.  Me, from nervous tension being
released; Staci, from pure excitement.  I said, "I don't fucking
believe this, Staci."

She said, "I don't either.  I was just guessing."

"You what!  You mean to tell me that you sent me in here knowing
I might get killed?"

"He wouldn't kill you, but I thought you'd get your ass reamed
out good.  Christ, Max ate it up, all of it.  He was really
getting off on watching the kids devour your spermy pussy with
their eyes."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so.  I kept my eyes on him.  Why do you think I got
behind you?"

"So they could see my twat leaking cum from my cunt hole."

"That too, but I wanted to see Max's reaction.  We're home free,
girl.  You can screw your brains out, now."

"Wow, that's right.  I can, can't I?" 

While Staci attended my pussy, I sat on the toilet and thought
wicked thoughts.  Sandy came to mind.  The time was right to talk
about the deal.  I thought about the deal instead.  I wondered
what would happen if I didn't talk about the deal.  Would Staci
bring me along, or would she simply take Sandy?  Would she ask
permission?  Would she ask Sandy's permission?  Would they rape
my little girl, or seduce her?  Would they use protection?  

No, of course not, I reasoned.  They were excited about the
possibility of knocking me up.  Knocking up a little girl would
be ten times more exciting.  Now, I was thinking like them.  Yes,
the idea was undeniably exciting.  Picturing my little Sandy with
a balooned belly and tits bloated with mother's milk had me on
the verge of a climax.  The idea of watching that old fart screw
my daughter was exciting as well.  Staci seemed to read my mind
and said, "You're thinking about Sandy getting pregnant, aren't
you?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I've got your cunt in my hands, remember.  You're getting
excited.  I figured it had to be that."

"Why would you think that would excite me?"

"Because, I planted that seed months ago.  That tree is ready to
bear fruit.  You didn't bat an eye when I arranged the date and
sealed the deal."

"You're a real pro at this aren't you?"

"Yes, you never stood a chance."

"Is that all you were after, Sandy?"

"Hell no.  If Mom hadn't died and Dad hadn't slipped into a funk,
I'd have never thought about it.  As it works out, Sandy is just
what he needs.  No, Theresa.  It's you I want.  I want my own
little Barbie Whore, and now I have one."

"What about Sandy?"

"She's going to be Daddy's little Barbie Whore, at least until he
gets back on track and can get his own."

"And you expect me to go along and Sandy to cooperate?"

"Yes, and you will.  Daddy will handle Sandy.  All we need to do
is deliver her cute little ass, then get comfortable and watch a
real pro at work."

"That easy, huh?"

"That easy.  No force.  No pain.  No tears.  Just as long as you
see she gets back often, Sandy will give you no problem.  Trust
me."

"I trusted you in the car, and you damn near got me killed.  I
hope you're right, though.  I'd love to watch a good seduction,
then have a horny preteen on my hands afterward."

"Horny?  She'll eat your pussy for a ride to my father's house."

I bit my lower lip.  Staci's words had a way of instantly forming
vivid mental images in my mind.  That one made my clit stand up
and throb.  Staci saw this and smiled her devilish smile, then
said, "Yeah, that tree is bearing fruit, too.  I'll be up to my
ears in fruit shortly."

Staci was about to insert the nozzle, but halted, saying, "You
know, Max is pretty horny.  He's been a good boy.  He should be
rewarded.  I'll bet he'd love sliding his boner into a sloppy
twat.  I'll bet he'll really get off on sloppy seconds from his
wife.  Yep, that's what we'll do."  

She set the douche bag aside and stood, saying, "I'll leave you
guys alone.  You should go out there naked and plop down on his
lap.  Talk about the first thing that pops up.  Get in slut mode,
Theresa."

"I never got out.  All right, I'll do it.  I'm anxious to get him
alone, anyway.  I'd like to know what's going on in his head."

"Don't pry.  Let him initiate any conversation.  If he asks you
who you're fucking, stick to your story."

"It's a dumb story."

"So?  He can't prove otherwise unless he's willing to eat you
out.  If he does that, break down and confess.  You've got
yourself a winner.  He'll bring guys home for you to fuck."

"I'd like that."

"What wife wouldn't?"

Staci departed, leaving me to think for a few minutes before
emerging.  I could hardly believe my good fortune.  All my
fantasies seemed within the realm of possibility.  If all
continued going well, I'd be screwing all kinds of men, fucking
my sons, basking under my daughter's slavish tongue, watching her
get screwed, get pregnant, and deliver a child.  I'd see Max fuck
her, and who knows how many of his swinging friends.  Yes, all
seemed possible, even probable.  I exited the bathroom with a
sexy strut in my step.

Max was still in his chair.  The kids were seated on the floor at
the foot of his chair.  They'd been talking together, about me,
no doubt.  All eyes turned to watch me stroll over.  I took Max's
book off his erection, set the book on the end table, then
reclined across his lap, being careful not to bend his boner.  I
ran my fingers through his hair and purred sexily, "Is that a gun
in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"

"You're treading on thin ice, Theresa."

"Am I?  How so?"

"That was a man's semen on your legs.  I can't prove it, but I'm
no idiot."

"That was hand cream, Max.  I'd never be unfaithful to you."

"Bullshit!  You're a fucking whore, Theresa.  The kids know it. 
I know it.  Staci and Joe knows it.  Half the town probably knows
it by now."

"Max, you think I'm a whore, really?  I'm shocked."

"That's cute, Theresa, real cute.  Let me catch you in the act,
and we'll see how cute you act."

"You lied to me."

"How's that?"

We were both playing to an audience of our children.  That much,
I picked up right away.  I was thrilled, and Max's cock throbbed
under my naked ass.  Sandy, Joey, and Phil were all ears and eyes
as I pouted, "You promised you'd never accuse me unless you had
absolute proof.  You have no proof, Max."

"You're right.  That was wrong.  I apologize.  I don't have
absolute proof.  Even if that hand cream tested out as sperm, you
could always say you placed it there yourself.  Knowing you,
that's exactly what you'd say.  No, I'll get proof positive
sooner or later.  One day, you'll slip up, and I'll catch you
with a cock in you.  When I do, you'll wish you'd never been
born."

"All right, Max, but until you catch me with a cock in my pussy,
don't accuse me, okay?"

"All right, Theresa.  That's how we'll play it.  I take back what
I said about your being a whore."

"No, don't take it back if you really think I am a whore.  I
don't mind what you call me.  Calling me a whore doesn't make it
so.  Only proof positive would make it so.  Even if I told you I
let a man fuck me, I could be lying.  Proof positive is a cock in
my pussy, agreed?"

"Agreed, whore."

"All right, now I'll tell you that the cream was a man's sperm,
several in fact.  Staci collected the specimens in a jar, and I
used a turkey baster to put the sperm inside my pussy to make you
think I'd been unfaithful.  We played a joke on you, Max."

"Bullshit, Theresa.  You went out and got fucked, by several men
no doubt.  Play your game, but remember my warning."

"I will, but I kinda like this game.  I like teasing you this
way; besides, Staci enjoys collecting sperm for my pussy, and she
loves cleaning sperm off my body."

"With her tongue, unless I miss my guess."

"Sometimes.  Does that make me a lesbian whore?"

"It makes you a slut, Theresa."

"Oh, a slut too?  I'm a whore and a slut, am I?  I never knew the
distinction."

"There is none, but you are both."

I looked to the kids and said, "Did you hear that children?  Your
father says I'm a slut whore.  Your mother is a whore and a slut. 
How does that make you feel?"

I looked to each in turn in expectation of an answer.  Sandy
shrugged and said, "I don't know.  It's your body and your life. 
It doesn't bother me any."

Joey said, "I think it's kinda neat having a slut whore for a
mom."

Phil said, "I'm with Joey, and ditto what Sandy said."

I looked to Max with a smile, saying, "You'd better hope I'm not
a slut whore, Max.  They won't rat on me.  When you go out of
town, I could bring my men here and fuck them right here in the
living room.  They won't mind, and they won't tell.  That is, if
I really am a slut whore."

"Be that as it may, Theresa.  One day, you'll slip.  When you
do..."

"I know.  I'll wish I'd never been born.  Don't worry, Max.  I'll
never slip, not with three good lookouts.  If I was a slut whore,
that is.  I'm horny, Max.  All this slut talk has made me horny
as hell.  Fuck me, Max.  Fuck me here; fuck me now.  Let the kids
watch us fuck.  You fuck me so good, and your cock is so hard
right now."

Max looked to the grinning eager faces looking up, felt my pussy,
slipped a finger inside, and said, "All right, whore.  Get on the
floor and spread wide."

I climbed down and sprawled in a circle of excited kids as Max
stood and dropped his pants and briefs.  Sandy's eyes were
riveted to her father's mighty erection as he knelt between my
legs.  I planted my feet and raised my pussy to meet his dick. 
Max angled his straining cock down and pushed the head inside. I
wiggled my pelvis, sinking my cunt over the shaft, clear to his
balls.  Max took me by the hips and hammered my adulterous pussy
like he used to do, ages ago.  

I swooned under his pummeling assault as small hands fondled my
jiggling breasts.  Joel and Sandy each had a tit.  Phil's hands
stroked my lower abdomen and inner thighs while trying not to get
his hand trapped by his father's driving thrusts.  Occasionally,
he brushed across my clit or touched a bare cunt lip stretched
thin by his father's cock.  I was in pervert's heaven.

The kids got bolder as the fuck went on.  They traded off parts,
so each got to feel my pussy.  They slowly lost their inhibitions
about getting in the way of our slapping genitals.  Little hands
were always getting trapped on the in-stroke.  Sandy was more
interested in feeling her father's cock.  During her turn down
below, Max fucked with half of his cock so that Sandy's fist
could ride the base.  Her fist hammered my cunt, so I didn't miss
the part she held.

Joey tried to worm his finger in alongside his father's cock, and
that felt marvelous to me.  Max didn't seem to mind either.  Phil
played with my ass and eventually fingered my asshole.  He
invited the others to feel their father's cock through the thin
membrane of my colon.  Each took a turn, and each was delighted,
none more so than me.

When Max came, he pulled out for dramatic effect, spraying my
chest and face with a copious load.  He also sprayed Sandy's
cheek as she was sucking on my right nipple.  Sandy raised up
with a start, just barely avoiding a long ropy strand that draped
the nipple she'd been sucking.  When Max was through sperming me,
Sandy returned to the nipple.  

Max and I exchanged smiles as we watched our daughter suck my
spermy tit.  Our smiles broadened when she licked my spermy tits,
chest, neck, and face.  We all watched Sandy lick sperm, and she
gradually lost her inhibitions about sperm licking with an
audience.  As she finished with the last drops on my face, Max
milked a few more directly on my clit to add to the remnants of
his first jet that made a direct hit at the top of my pussy
crack.  That shot ran down the crack, split by my clit.  Max
painted my clit by milking his dick.

I knew what he was up to, but I also knew Sandy would balk at
licking cum off my clit.  Still, I supported the attempt, paving
the way by saying, "Clean all the cum off me, Sandy, and I'll get
you that dress you liked."

Sandy renewed her cleaning efforts, going back over ground
already covered.  All she needed was an excuse, and I languished
under her oral ablutions.  When she sat up, satisfied that she'd
earned the dress, Max pointed the oversight out to her.

Sandy stared at the pearly drool oozing over my clit and seeping
into my pussy crack.  None of us seriously expected she'd fall
for Max's challenge.  It was more a joke, but as Sandy continued
to stare at my clit, thinking hard, we began to wonder.  To help
her decide, I drew my legs back and fanned my lips open with my
fingers.  My sperm-drenched clit stood tall and shiny.  I could
feel the thick run sliding down my crack toward my pussy hole.

I felt like all she needed was a slight nudge, so I said, "If you
don't start soon, you'll have to lick Daddy's sperm out of my
pussy hole.  That is, if you want that dress."

Her eyes widened as she looked to each of us in turn.  All she
saw was hopeful, expectant faces smiling back.  She gazed on my
wide-spread beaver, then slowly leaned across my abdomen.  She
licked tentatively with her tonguetip barely making contact with
my clit.  I said, "You'll never get it clean that way.  You'd
better hurry."

The next lick was a real lick that moved my clit.  The licks that
followed swabbed my clit, moving the excited nub from side to
side, up and down, back and forth, over and around.  She spent so
much time on my clit that the run she should have chased ran
inside my hole.  I said, "You're too late.  Daddy's cum is now
inside the hole."

Joey said, "That means she has to lick inside your pussy, right,
Mom?"

"If she wants to earn that dress she does."

She wanted the dress, but what she really wanted, what she'd
stalled for, was an excuse to get at my hole.  She crawled lower
to get her head square to my beaver and followed the path of the
drooling run with her flattened tongue.  When she reached the
hole, her tongue swabbed the rim, then slipped deep inside.  She
mashed her face to my cunt, trying to get her tongue in as deeply
as she could.  I was in ecstasy; the guys were in awe.  Sandy
kept this up for several long minutes.

Max had never enjoyed sex more, and neither had I.  We were spent
and totally satisfied, but the kids hadn't gotten off.  They were
more wired than when we started.  They couldn't keep their hands
off me or out of my holes.  Sandy couldn't keep her mouth off me
or her tongue out of my holes.  Whether I sat, stooped, walked,
or just stood still, fingers entered both my holes or toyed with
my tits.  Sandy's tongue went everywhere, but made my twat home
base.  

Since Sandy was too shy to touch Max's cock after the fuck, and
he was too inhibited to suggest she clean his cock, he got
dressed and watched me and the kids.  I did nothing to discourage
the kids.  If anything, I made my parts more accessible.  This
lewd activity went on for several hours.  We watched a movie on
TV.  Well, Max and I watched the movie.  The kids watched me, or
parts of me.  Even as I prepared dinner, my body received their
attentions.  By this time, I usually had one at a time to
tolerate.

Sandy spent most of her time curled up on Max's lap.  During the
meal, I remained naked and sat between Joey and Phil as they
continued to amuse themselves with my body all through the meal. 
Sometime during the dinner preparations, Sandy lost her shyness
about fondling her father's cock.  She stroked his erection all
through dinner.  

Sandy had her chair pulled up beside Max's at the head of the
table.  Her arm was in constant motion throughout the meal.  Max
and I never enjoyed a meal more, that's for sure.  Sandy dove to
Max's lap for her desert.  All we saw was her head bobbing up and
down and Max's eyes cross.  That is, until he came.  

For the cum shot, Max gripped the edges of his seat and heaved
his loins up.  Sandy's sucking mouth appeared over the table top
as the sperm boiled up from his balls.  We could see the jets
shoot up the thick central vein, and Sandy's throat muscles
contracting after each jet she took.  She pumped his shaft with
both hands, milking him of every last drop.  She was sucking her
father like a heavy duty vacuum cleaner.  She made me wish I had
a cock.

Family sex was a foregone conclusion at that point.  All
inhibitions had been breached.  Max was going to fuck Sandy.  I
was going to fuck the boys.  We all knew that without anyone
saying so out loud.  Max waited for me to initiate the orgy.  I
waited on him.  The kids waited on anyone to break the stalemate.

Max couldn't, and I didn't want an orgy involving Max.  That
wasn't my fantasy.  I wanted to sneak my fucks in.  I wanted Max
to seduce Sandy and carry on with her behind my back so that I
could catch them in the act.  I wanted my fantasy, not a free-
for-all.  The kids went to bed horny.

Max and I were also horny, but we enjoyed another terrific fuck. 
Afterward, we talked.  Without an audience, Max was more serious. 
He said, "This is crazy, you know?"

"How so?"

"This game we're playing."

"We're playing a game?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Theresa.  We're perverts."

"Who cares?  We're having fun.  The kids enjoy having perverted
parents.  We're lucky perverts with lucky kids."

"I want to fuck Sandy."

"You pervert."

"I'm serious.  She wants me to fuck her.  While you were in the
kitchen preparing dinner, she got my cock out, got me hard, then
whispered, 'Daddy, I want to do it.  I want to go all the way
with you.'"

"Like I said, Max, you're a lucky pervert.  Just don't get
caught, or I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

Max sat up and looked down on me with a puzzled expression.  I
smiled wryly.  He said, "Seriously?"

"As serious as you are with me."

"I know what I mean by that statement.  What do you mean?"

"Wait and see.  That's what I have to do."

Max laid back, staring up at the ceiling.  After several minutes,
he said, "You're going to fuck those boys, aren't you?"

"Who knows?  I won't get caught fucking them.  That's for sure."

Minutes passed before Max said, "You want it this way, don't
you?"

"Max, I won't snoop.  I won't ask questions.  I won't open any
shut doors without knocking and getting permission to enter, but
if I ever get proof positive that you are screwing our daughter,
if I ever actually catch you with your cock in her pussy, I'll
make you wish you'd never been born."

"Gotcha.  Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, darling."

Max and I went to sleep with a good understanding.  At three in
the morning, I awoke to an empty bed.  I got up and went to
Sandy's room.  The door was shut, but the light was on.  I
pressed my ear to the door and heard her bed bouncing to the
pounding of a paternal beat.  I smiled and returned to bed.  I
was still awake when Max tried to ease in an hour later.  As soon
as he was settled, I said, "How was she?"

Max almost jumped out of his skin.  He said, "Damn you, Theresa!"

I laughed and said, "Well, you were gone long enough."

"Circumstantial evidence.  You have no proof."

I felt his sticky cock, then smelled my fingers.  I said, "This
smells like virgin pussy to me, Max."

"I fingered Sandy and rubbed her juices on my cock."

"Clever, very clever.  Trying to trick me, huh?"

"Yeah.  A practical joke."

"Okay, just remember what I said.  If I ever catch this cock in
Sandy's hot little ex-virgin pussy, I'll make you wish you'd
never been born."

"I understand.  Same goes for you, whore."

"Gotcha.  Good night darling."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Max drifted off to sleep, but I couldn't sleep.  I had a raging
case of the hot-twat.  When Max began snoring, I eased out of
bed, then tip toed down the hall to Phil's room.  I slipped into
Phil's bed and he awoke with a start.  As soon as he realized who
I was, he rolled on top and entered me.  He fucked me gloriously,
three times in rapid succession, then lay sprawled on top of my
body, exhausted.  

When he fell asleep, I rolled him off, then went to Joey's room. 
He was harder to wake up.  I had to turn on the light and shake
him awake.  When he saw my naked tits bobbing in his face, he
broke a smile and sucked one.  I yanked his underwear down and
sat on his erection.  We fucked twice more with me on the bottom,
then laid side by side to rest up for another.  The sun was just
about to rise when a delicious idea came over me.  

Max likes to sleep in on Sundays, and he sleeps soundly.  I knew
we could fuck in the bed beside him if we were careful.  Joey
loved the idea, and we went to my room like thieves.  I eased
onto the bed, then Joey got between my legs.  We both kept a wary
eye on Max as the dirty deed progressed.  This fuck was slow and
easy.  After three cums, Joey wasn't about to go off like a
bunny.

We screwed beside Max, on top of the covers, for thirty or more
minutes.  Early morning twilight filled the room.  I was
deliriously excited by our bold adventure, languishing under a
slow easy screwing with my eyes closed, dreaming naughty dreams. 

Suddenly, Joey's loins came down hard against my crotch, so hard
he had to have been assisted.  My eyes opened wide to find Max
hovering over us with his hand pressing down on Joey's ass,
pinning us to the mattress.  Max shouted, "Busted, bitch!  I told
you what would happen.  I warned you.  I knew you'd slip up. 
Now, you're going to wish you'd never been born."

I have never been so frightened in my life.  His maniacal look
made me fear for my life.  That's when Max began tickling me.  I
can't stand to be tickled while pinned, and I was pinned beneath
my own son.  I cried out for him to stop while struggling and
writhing.  Max said, "Say, I wish I'd never been born."

I cried, "What?"

"Say it, whore.  Say, I wish I'd never been born."

The tickling was driving me mad.  I screamed, "I wish I'd never
been born!  I wish I'd never been born!"

The tickling stopped.  The pressure came off Joey.  Sandy and
Phil came rushing into the room.  Phil was naked, and Sandy only
had panties on.  We could see dried virgin blood stains on her
inner thighs.  They looked at the scene with alarm showing on
their faces.  Sandy bashfully squeezed her legs together while
covering her breasts, but Phil did not try to hide his growing
erection.  Max sat back smugly and said, "See, I told you I could
make you wish you'd never been born."

Relief flooded over me, and then I felt giddy.  I started
laughing, then howling.  I laughed poor Joey right off me.  He
fell on the floor, then got up and stood between Sandy and Phil. 
They were laughing too.  Sandy no longer hid her tits.  We were
all laughing.  Phil yanked Sandy's panties to her feet, and we
laughed harder.  

Max had shaved her twat and drew one of his infamous cartoon
characters on her pussy, turning her pussy into a goofy old man
with a vertical smile.  Her clit looked like his tongue sticking
out.  Sandy stepped free of her panties and danced while twirling
her panties overhead.  She showed off her cartoon, pulling on her
labia lips to make the man's tongue stick out.  We screamed. 
When the boys sandwiched her between them and dry humped her, my
sides ached.  

They fell on the bed then crawled up to lie beside us.  I had
Phil and Joey on either side of me, and Sandy squeezed between
Max and Phil--one big, happy, buck-assed naked family.  When the
laughter died down, I said, "Now what?"

Max got out of bed, reached down and lifted Sandy in his arms. 
He held her so her ass faced us.  We got a good look at her
swollen pussy peeking between her legs as Max said, "I'm going to
get me some more tiny pussy.  You guys do what you want."  

As soon as they left, the boys attacked me.  I got screwed good. 
Incest squared.  By eight AM, I was exhausted, fucked out, sore
and tired.  The boys were worn out as well.  Max and Sandy
emerged, still naked, wanting breakfast.  I told them to fix me
some, too.

In a way, I was elated, but also disappointed.  Sandy would be no
fun to watch with Staci's dad now.  She'd be too eager from the
start.  Cheating wasn't cheating anymore.  Nothing was dirty,
nasty, or forbidden.  Everything was out in the open, a sexual
smorgasbord.  I'd been cheated of my fantasies, but what the
hell.  When you cum ten times a day, who gives a shit about
fantasies.  

Staci felt the same way I did.  She loved watching us fuck each
other, and had another Barbie Whore to play with, but it just
wasn't the same.  Bill didn't care whether Sandy was an
experienced whore or a shy virgin.  He just wanted a tight pussy
to fuck.  When I explained the story to Max, he gave Bill
unlimited and unrestricted visitation rights.  

Max loved watching me or Sandy getting screwed, but he especially
loved watching Sandy and Bill.  Bill stopped by unannounced three
or four times a day, and took Sandy where he found her.  On the
sofa, in the bathroom, in the hallway, at the dinner table with
the family eating, it made no difference to Bill.  He loved an
audience, and we loved being that audience.

Max and I had a long and serious talk a few days into our new
arrangement.  We did not want our expanded sex life to become
mundane or routine.  We shared our fantasies and discovered many
points in common.  We both needed perverse sex to heighten our
enjoyment.  We both liked watching each other with multiple
partners.  At the top of our list was getting Sandy pregnant.  We
also liked group scenes, and mother/daughter sex acts before an
audience.  

Sandy became the key to our sexual fulfillment.  We liked
anything involving Sandy.  We wanted her to stay barefoot and
pregnant until she left home for college.  We planned to adopt
her baby out, then knock her up again.  When we told Sandy of our
wishes, we gave her two options: do as we say, or do without sex. 
Sandy took off her shoes and said, "I'm barefoot, now get me
pregnant."

Max knew a slew of swinging couples, and we began entertaining
regularly, usually with one couple at a time.  As an ice breaker,
we played a game that involved Bill and Sandy.  We never let on
to the guests that we were swingers.  During a formal dinner with
the kids in attendance, Bill would enter the house looking like a
wino off the streets.

This alone would shock our guests.  When no one made
introductions, or so much as acknowledged Bill's presence, their
curiosity was peaked.  Bill would advance to the table, coming up
behind Sandy.  He'd pull out his cock and begin stroking his
erection, teasing the head at her face, interfering with her
attempts to keep on eating.  Still, no one said a word, but our
guests were clearly awed.  

Me, Max, Phil, and Joey pretended not to see Bill or Sandy.  No
matter what he did to her, or what she did in response, we would
not look over or react in any way.  This put our guests in a
quandary, questioning reality.

Bill would strip her at the table, then fuck her at, or on, the
table.  He'd fuck her pussy, then her ass, then cum in her mouth. 
He'd then dress and leave, usually leaving Sandy sprawled naked
on the table.  When the door shut behind him, I'd say something
like, "Would either of you care for more peas, ham, pussy,
anything?"

If they hadn't caught on by that time, my question was the ice
breaker.  We've never tired of that game, and all the swingers
we've met were initiated into our dirty little secret that way. 

A month after we started our new lifestyle, Max had a young
couple over for dinner.  The guy was a new young attorney in
Max's office.  His lovely wife was the picture of newlywed bliss
and innocence.  Jan was a tall, sexy young lady with classic
beauty and intelligence to match.  That bronze darling had
everything in abundance, including long legs, wide hips, and big
tits.  We were both smitten by her charm and beauty, though her
husband was a bit stuffy.  

They were not swingers, and the dinner was strictly business.  We
even sent Phil and Joey away to stay with friends so there
wouldn't be any slip-ups.  Sandy needed to remain at home to work
on her science project.  Earlier, Max told me to call Bill and
warn him that we had straight company.  I forgot.  We'd just
finished dinner and sat in the living room for cocktails.  

Sandy sat on the love seat doing her homework.  I was on the
sofa, turned to face John and Jan who were also seated on the
sofa.  Max had brought a dining room chair over so as to sit
beside me in order to share the coffee table and create a more
intimate setting.  Our backs were to the love seat which sat at a
ninety degree angle to the sofa.  With Jan seated at the other
end, and John between us, he couldn't see his wife unless he
turned around, but they both had a good view of Sandy by looking
between me and Max.  

Bill walked in ten minutes after we sat down.  We didn't actually
see him enter, but we knew it had to be him.  Max and I looked at
each other.  My look said, "Sorry, I forgot."  His said, "Oh no! 
Do something."

We both knew Bill would not be put off by the unfamiliar couple. 
We'd told him not to worry about friends unless we called him. 
We were frozen into inactivity.  We did not acknowledge Bill's
presence, because our backs were to the love seat.  He entered
quietly, so unless he came into our view, or our guests told us
he was there, we had no reason to look behind us.  We were facing
the couple.  We saw their expressions.  The looks on their faces
told us Bill had just shucked his pants.  I heard him take a seat
beside Sandy.

Their expressions were priceless.  I was waiting for one or both
of them to alert us to what was going on behind us, but they were
speechless.  I didn't know what Max was waiting on, but every
second counted.  The action would start quickly.  They were his
guests.  If he wasn't going to act, I saw no reason to.

By the expressions on our guest's faces, I knew obscene acts were
taking place behind us.  At this point, Sandy would climb up to
straddle Bill's lap and ease down on his cock with her bare ass
facing the couple.  She wore no panties.   I was so amused by the
couple, I wasn't about to look back.

Max, I found out later, was intrigued by their silence.  Since
nothing alerted us, and he had no reason to look behind him, he
didn't.  Still, their facial expressions were enough to alert any
intelligent person.  

We trained Sandy to fuck for an audience, going for the highest
visual impact, keeping the cock/cunt connection in view.  Jan and
John were her audience, and the looks on their faces told me
Sandy knew that.  She'd be fucking Bill in a variety of lewd
positions, all designed to show Bill's stiff cock penetrating her
hairless quim.

John and Jan had wide eyes and slack jaws as they looked past us,
not at us.  Nonetheless, Max and I carried on small talk with
them, or tried to.  At this point, experience taught us that Bill
would be stripping Sandy naked while she rode the bologny pony. 
Jan's hand came to her mouth as she obviously got her first
glimpse of Bill's cock penetrating my daughter's shaved twat.

Her husband broke out in a sweat with eyes focused low, about
pussy level.  Still, neither said anything.  Max and I had to
carry all the conversation.  When I heard Bill and Sandy adjust
positions, I knew Sandy was getting on her hands and knees for
the butt fuck; otherwise, only one person would be moving--Sandy. 
She'd press her shoulders to the cushions and raise her ass high,
aimed obliquely toward our amazed guests, then pull her ass
cheeks apart.

As the shiny cock penetrated my daughter's pink sphincter, I
said, "Are you two feeling alright?  You look a little peeked." 
They both nodded like zombies.  Max and I turned to each other,
trying to hold in our smiles.  We knew exactly what had them so
mesmerized.  Sandy getting butt fucked is a sight to stop trains,
but what was coming up would blow them away.

When Bill cums, he draws out, grabs her by the hair, and yanks
her head back to his cock.  While pumping his dick, Sandy engulfs
the head and sucks hard.  He blasts her mouth with half his load,
then pulls out to pepper her face with the rest.  Afterward, he
wipes his dick in her hair, stands up, pulls up his pants, and
leaves.

We knew when Bill was ready to cum by the wide eyes getting
wider.  Bill and Sandy were unusually quiet, which helped a great
deal.  We were able to ignore the cum scene and enjoy the couple. 
Jan no longer had her hand over her mouth.  She bit her lower lip
while squeezing her legs together.  The hand gripping her knee
had white knuckles.  John had an erection that he tried hard to
conceal from us with both hands pressed to his lap.  He sat stiff
as a board throughout the bizarre ordeal.

Bill dressed and left as quietly as he'd entered.  We could hear
Sandy putting her clothes back on and putting herself in order. 
We heard her retake her seat and open her books.  At this point,
I said, "And the kids these days.  You have to watch them every
minute."  I turned to look at Sandy and said, "This one,
especially."

Sandy smiled and said, "Oh, Mom, that's not true and you know it. 
I'm a perfect angel."

After I turned back around, I noticed Jan forcing back a smile
and John trying to avert his eyes from Sandy's direction.  I
found out later that Sandy pulled her top over her tits, pulled
her skirt up to her waist, sat with her legs in the splits, and
put on a solo act of preteen masturbation.  Jan found the
performance delightful.  John found the act distracting. 

Max said, "Are you sure you two are alright?  Can I freshen your
drinks?"

John finally got his voice and said, "No thanks.  I'm fine."

Jan handed Max her glass and said, "I'd like a double, straight
up."

Jan was sharp.  When her head cleared, and she had a few moments
to think about what had just happened, she realized they'd been
had.  Her attitude changed dramatically after that.  Max and I
could see her mind turning the events over.  We could see her
relax, get comfortable, then get too comfortable for her still
confused and uptight hubby.  She drank her double scotch rather
quickly.
  
She smiled knowingly while seeking to make eye contact with us. 
We gave her that eye contact and returned her smiles, but she
still wasn't sure.  Max offered to freshen her drink, then took
her empty glass after she downed what was left in one gulp.  John
gave her a disapproving glance, tugged her skirt lower on her
thighs, and suggested she sit up straight.  Jan refused to budge. 
To avoid a confrontation, I engaged John in conversation.

I was pleased to see Jan immediately pull her skirt up past the
level where John thought she was showing herself immodestly.  She
defiantly stuck her tongue out at the back of his head.  I also
watched Max expose himself to Jan when he stood behind the sofa
to hand Jan her drink.  John had his back to Max as Max offered
Jan his profile.  If John turned, Max could easily turn as well,
and at least hide his naked dick.
  
Keeping an eye on Max and Jan while keeping John focused on my
every word wasn't easy.  Max had his hard cock fully out and
stroked the shaft for Jan's excited and visibly impressed, big,
brown eyes.  He stirred her drink with his cock, then handed the
drink to her.  Jan smilingly ran her tongue around the rim of her
glass, being as suggestive as a woman can be without coming right
out and saying, "I want to suck your cock."

Max put himself back in order, retook his seat, and maintained
eye contact with Jan.  When Max took out his hard cock in front
of his wife and child, Jan had all the proof she needed to
properly size-up the situation.  She excused herself to go to the
bathroom.  We eagerly awaited her return.

When Jan returned after a long stay in the bathroom, I took it
upon myself to keep John's attention focused on me.  When she
sat, she leaned back against the armrest, almost in a sprawl, a
very undignified recline for a lady in a short skirt.  When she
pulled that skirt up and spread her legs, I almost choked on my
drink.  Max did.

She not only removed her panties and panty hose, she'd shaved her
pussy and taken lipstick to write "Fuck Me" across both inner
thighs with her bald pussy breaking the two words.  At the time,
I had no way of knowing whether she arrived with a shaved twat,
but I later found out she had never so much as trimmed her bush. 
Sandy's shaved pubes inspired her.  

She held herself in this provocative position as I tried my
damndest to keep her hubby from looking back.  Actually, I don't
know why I tried so hard.  She didn't seem too awfully
concerned."

I expected Max to offer her a tour of his private law library. 
John had already had the tour as Jan helped with the dinner.  Max
was having too much fun watching Jan's daring and obscene act. 
He was in no hurry, and I couldn't blame him.  He knew he was
going to get laid.  Jan obviously had all the teasing she could
take and was determined to get some strange cock.  

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her act, and I was deeply
impressed.  I'd never seen a woman look so horny, so in need, or
so provocative in displaying that need.  She had absolutely no
inhibitions.  She stroked her pussy, then finger-fucked her hole. 
She eased onto her right hip and pulled her skirt over her ass. 
She then pulled her left ass cheek out to expose her asshole
while mouthing the words, "Fuck my ass."

Jan was losing control.  Her passions were driving her to
extremes.  I wanted to send a message to Max to get her out of
the room and put her out of her misery, but Max wouldn't look my
way.  Jan had resumed her reclining sprawl, and had pulled her
skirt all the way to her middle, clear past her belly button. 
She had one foot laid on the back of the sofa, and the other far
out on the floor, offering as wide a spread as she could make.

If her hubby turned, there was no way she could get back in any
sense of order, but that didn't stop her.  Her hand began undoing
buttons.  One, then two, then three, until we saw she had removed
her bra as well.  She hauled out one beautiful, long tit and
brought that tit to her lips.  She ran her long tongue over the
turgid nipple while masturbating with her free hand.  She undid
the rest of her buttons and threw her blouse open to reveal
another message below her breasts: "Whore."  For all intents and
purposes, she was a naked whore.

By this time, I was no longer interested in distracting her
hubby.  She deserved to be caught, and Max deserved to lose out
on a fantastic fuck if her hubby got pissed.  John was eager to
look back ever since Sandy set her books aside and came over to
stand behind her father, looking down on Jan with unabashed
interest.  When I threw my hands up and stopped talking, John
spun around.

"Jesus Christ, Jan!  What do you think you're doing?"

Jan didn't blink an eye.  She said, "Can't you tell?  I'm trying
to get fucked."

John read her messages, then turned his pale face to Max,
pleading, "Mr. Blake, I'm sorry.  She's never done anything like
this.  I swear.  She normally doesn't drink hard liquor."

Jan used her left leg to force John to sit back, saying, "You're
blocking his view.  Sit back and shut up."  Jan shrugged free of
her hanging blouse, unfastened her skirt, then raised her ass to
slip the loose skirt down her legs, telling John to take the
skirt the rest of the way as she held both skirt-draped legs over
his lap.  John gave her what we assumed was a stern, unbelieving
look, which we could see she returned with stern resolve.  He
slowly, reluctantly removed the material from her legs.

Jan placed her right foot in his face and said, "Take my shoes
off, too."  He removed that shoe, then awaited the other.  When
he tossed the last shoe, his wife was naked.  She twisted her
wedding ring off her finger and handed that to him saying, "Put
this in a safe place.  I won't be needing it tonight."

John slipped the ring in his vest pocket.  Jan sprawled, getting
low with her head resting on the arm rest, purring, "I'm naked,
totally naked, Max.  Fuck me, please!  Fuck my ass.  Fuck my
mouth.  Fuck my horny cunt.  If you will just fuck me with that
magnificent cock of yours, I'll do anything, any time, anywhere,
from now on.  Treat me like a whore, always.  I want to be your
whore, Max."

John looked stunned and helpless.  Max stood and removed his
pants, saying, "Sorry John Boy, but no man should have to turn
down an offer like that from a woman as sexy as your wife.  If my
wife has no objections, it looks like I have myself a whore."

I said, "If your whore has no objection to licking a little pussy
now and then, I have no objection to you having a whore."

Jan sat up eagerly and said, "Oh, Theresa, I will.  I'll eat you
and your daughter, together, if you want."

After removing his boxer shorts, Max settled between Jan's legs
and screwed her over her husband's lap.  John was beside himself
as he watched the thick shaft of my husband's cock take steady
posession of his wife's hungry pussy.  His wife became a wailing
banshee once Max's cock sank in to the balls.  Max didn't fuck
her; she fucked him.  All John could do was watch helplessly.

Sandy, John, and I watched them screw until long after midnight. 
John was as horny as his wife had been, but I wasn't into mercy
fucks.  Besides, wimpy men turn me off.  I got more enjoyment
watching him suffer.  When Sandy and I stripped down and ate each
other, poor John was in agony.  John left in agony, because Jan
stayed with us.  She moved in with us.  Jan became my Barbie
Whore.

All in all, it ain't a bad life for a gal who wished she'd never
been born.     


--

Double for Nothing!!  Tricks for Free!!!

http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html

Be There.....