"Fuck! Aah, wow! Ooh, yeah! Aah, yes, yes, yes, that's so good, so good! So fucking good! So, aah, yeah!"

 

Any minute now she'll start blaspheming, I thought to myself as I lay alone on top of my bed sheets.

 

"Oh, Christ! Jesus fucking Christ, that's, ha ha! Right there, yeah, right there! Oh fuck, keep it right thereaahh!"

 

It had been my first night alone in my own room for three months. I'd given Daddy some 'welcome home' oral in the kitchen, but then, when Mommy had taken my hand to lead me into their room, I'd pleaded period pain as my excuse for not joining them in their bed. At least I might have a good night's sleep for once, I thought to myself, but it would be small consolation for not being with them. In fact, I'd had to listen hours of their incessant wailing and moaning, and now there was indeed an ache in my belly, but not due to menstruation. Finally, unable to endure the noise without resisting temptation, I snuck my fingers between my legs. A thought occurred to me and, in the room's twilight, I lifted my hand to my face and failed to see red but merely two fingertips glistening like glass marbles with my clear vaginal secretions.

 

"Come on and give it to me! Don't make me wait! Give it to me! Hurry up and put it all inside me! Come on and give me all you've got as hard as you can!"

 

Mommy let out a long moan that almost sounded like an animal dying in slow agony. Hurry up, I thought, nodding in agreement, while Daddy continued to pant away like a mad dog.

 

"Fuck this," I whispered. I stood, shakily at first, and briskly walked the short distance down the hall to their room. I pushed the door back hard letting it bang against the wall.

 

He was on top, his body almost completely obscuring hers as he gripped her chest in a bear hug, while his hips pounded away at her. They were half off the bed, their legs tangled on the bed sheets, while their upper bodies hung over the edge. Mommy supported them both with her hands on the floor and her head was bowed down, her long, black curls completely hiding her face.

 

Daddy looked up. "Hey, honey!" he beamed at me in between heavy panting. "Decided to join us at last?"

 

Mommy raised her head awkwardly. "Hey, sweetie!" But in her smile I caught a glimpse of gloating triumph. This was the first time in days, perhaps weeks he had really given her a good, long screw, rather than expending most of his energies on me. I stood naked before them with my hands on my hips, deeply aroused as ever by the sight of their toned, athletic bodies slicked with sweat, straining every sinew to pleasure each other, but unlike Mommy, I was not prone to jealousy, and I felt a hot rush in my quim. The insides of both my thighs felt little rivers of lust leaking their ways down to my feet.

 

"Daddy?" I said in a trembling voice.

 

"Yes?" he cried out, either in response to me or in the throes of desire, I was unsure.

 

"Mommy?" I was really struggling to keep my voice from rising into hysteria.

 

"Oh, yes!"

 

"I'm pregnant."

 

They both froze like the video I had taken of them one time on my phone when I'd pause it at a moment I particularly liked. She, despite his weight on her back, raised her head even further. They gawped, then suddenly both spasmed as one, tensing tightly, arms and legs shaking synchronously as if in a shared seizure.

 

"Aah, aah, aaaahh!!" groaned Daddy and pushed his hips down on hers with a force that, to me, looked painfully hard.

 

Her arms finally gave out and they both flopped loosely in a heap on the deep shag pile carpet, panting and gasping like freshly caught fish. I continued to gaze down at them for a moment, then turned and walked back to my room. I sat cross-legged on my bed with my hands clasped and looked at the light beginning to shine around the edge of the curtains. I was now lubricating profusely, but didn't feel the urge to do anything about it. I heard them scrabbling around in their room, fumbling with sheets and clothes, cursing.

 

"This is your fault," I heard him accuse her quietly.

 

"How the fuck can it be my fault?" she said louder, and suddenly my mind exploded with the memory of her tongue licking around my vulva and sucking out his seed. It was clearly a favorite act of hers, something that really seemed to complete the sex act for her. At first I'd been able to tell he hadn't wanted to cum inside me. Then, distracted, and in a moment of mind-blanking lust, he had, and her need to go down on me right at that moment had been so clear, and her pleasure from this act so apparent, it had become a regular thing. He had shot his cream into me countless times over the last two months. How could things have not turned out any other way?

 

The light from around the curtains flickered and, when I raised my hand to my face, I wiped away hot tears. Mommy appeared at the door in her bath robe that, with the belt tied tightly around her slim waist, emphasised her generous boobs, and she paused for a moment with her hand on the frame.

 

"Are you sure?" she asked.

 

I raised my moistened face and shook my head.

 

"Oh, honey, don't cry," she said and came over to sit beside me. We slipped our arms around each other. "It's not your fault."

 

My left had wandered instinctively, as it had many times, up to her chest. She checked this immediately by gripping my wrist and restoring my hand to my knee. I looked longingly into her face for reassurance, but she just kissed my cheek and stood up.

 

"We'll talk, OK?" and she patted my head, smiled tightly, then left the room.

 

I jumped up, ran to the door and bumped into Daddy, also in his bath robe. I reached out for him and he gently embraced me with his thick-muscled arms. With one hand I caressed his back while he kissed my hair. With the other hand I felt the well-shaped muscles of his stomach, then moved my hand downwards. Instantly he pulled away and I was left looking up at him with more tears filling my eyes. He gently pushed some of my hair behind my ear, kissed my cheek, then turned and went into the bathroom leaving me alone in the hall with my shoulders drooping. My tummy burbled and, as if in a dream, I wandered through to the kitchen. I sat with my arms folded, my head bowed at the table and, through tears and matted hair, gazed for how long I could not tell at the banana I had taken from the fruit bowl. When they reappeared they were both fully dressed in their smart suits, while I was still naked. Sadly I watched them as they made their usual mugs of black coffee and grabbed bowls of cereal.

 

"Sure you wouldn't like something else on that?" he joked as she poured the milk onto her cornflakes. She froze and cast daggers across the table at him, but said nothing. "Why not? You drank quarts of the stuff yesterday morning."

 

Indeed she had. Daddy had ejaculated into me three times before breakfast and Mommy had then spent the amount of time it took him to make her orgasm by licking and lapping every drop out of me.

 

"The problem is," said Daddy through a mouthful of muesli, "you've not been sucking hard enough."

 

Mommy's hand shot out and impacted on his cheek so hard she was immediately pelted with a stream of milk, oats and raisins. Her blue, silk blouse was now patterned with cereal and her face was dripping in a white substance, different yet somehow familiar. In a rage she stood up so quickly her chair fell onto the tiles with a crash. She glared at both me and him before sweeping from the kitchen, wiping at her face on the way.

 

Daddy shrugged, ate what was left of his breakfast, then reached out and touched my elbow.

 

"We'll figure something out, OK?" he said, smiling his handsome smile.

 

"Ab," I quietly stuttered, "abortion?" disturbed by the sound of the word in my mouth.

 

"Well," he said, shrugged again and dumped his bowl in the dishwasher. "See you later, sweetie," and he pinched my cheek. Mommy soon reappeared in a fresh blouse and trotted across the wooden floorboards in her black high heels to the front door. I had only been dimly aware of the growing tension in my shoulders as my disgust and indignation mounted. Seething, I stood and ran after her, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

 

"Fuck me, Mommy!" I cried, all the frustration I'd built up over the last few minutes finally finding a vent. After all it was still early. They usually found time to fuck me at least once after breakfast before leaving for work. And she always left after him, allowing just the two of us to extend our love-making for a little longer. At least, she had until a couple of weeks ago, or perhaps even more, when her ardour towards me had begun to cool a little. Why were they leaving together now, and so early?

 

"Oh, sweetie," said Mommy softly. "We'll talk later, OK?" She tried to smile. "There's a clinic that can take of it. I'll phone them at lunchtime. Make sure you eat properly. You should go out. You start at college next week. You'll need to start sleeping during the night then." She was right, but I didn't want to think about that now and I felt irritated that she was telling me I should go out when she'd so clearly wanted me to stay in every evening for months. "Why not go and see Miranda?" she said. I received light kisses from both of them on the cheeks, no more than pecks, and they left.

 

So that's it, I thought. An abortion and someone else to fuck. That's the fate they have in mind for me.

 

I slouched back to the kitchen, unconsciously grabbed the banana and slouched to the window. It was a beautiful, sunny, late summer day, and the garden was bathed in a golden glow. Even the lawn glistened yellow. But I struggled to see the beauty in it. Still nude I went onto the patio, plonked myself down on the bench by the wall and the banana before me on the wooden table. This is where it first happened, I thought, right here on this bench was where my mother had taken my innocence from me with her deft and gentle fingers. My pussy twitched as I remembered the initial pain, then the tide of pleasure that had erupted from it. And just here, a few days later, on a rainy Sunday, when there had seemed to be nothing to do but stay home and fuck, was where Mommy, during breakfast, had given me my first lesson in fellatio using a banana. By then I had already blown Daddy a few times, but I knew there was more to it than merely allowing him to penetrate my mouth. Mommy had shown me there was an art to it and had demonstrated that a suppression of the gag reflex was crucial to really doing it properly.

 

I took the banana, dug my thumbnail into the tip, then stopped. I raised it to my mouth, still unpeeled, and licked at the tip, wishing it was Daddy's penis.

 

Mommy had pushed the unpeeled fruit into her mouth with no trouble at all. I'd seen her do this with Daddy's penis, which was bigger than the banana, but it still amazed me how smoothly it glided in. There'd been times I'd seen her neck bulge as he'd pushed himself all the way into her until his balls were pressed tightly to her chin. As she'd demonstrated for me, the banana only made a slight bulge in her neck, but I felt I'd never be unable to repeat this act myself. She'd pulled it out with only a small gasp, but with copious threads of spittle bridging her mouth with the fruit, and had then handed the dripping object to me.

 

"Try it," she said and nodded encouragingly as I tentatively lifted it to my mouth.

 

It felt rougher than Daddy's smooth-skinned cock and somehow more awkward, at least, that was the excuse I gave myself when I found I could only get about three inches in before coughing and spluttering. Fellating the cold and inanimate banana seemed uninspiring compared to stimulating a living, throbbing, drooling penis. With Mommy's encouragement I persisted, however, relaxing my mouth and throat until I could get more and more in.

 

"Don't forget to breathe!" she said and we both laughed, though my laughter set me coughing. I tried not to gag, but I still did every time, until she finally let me peel it and I tried again, but this time it broke up in my mouth, which made us both laugh again.

 

Now, sitting alone in the sun, with no Daddy to pleasure, I used the banana, but it was a poor substitute. Deep throating was no longer a problem for me and it slid down and down until the back end rested on the tip of my tongue. All the time I imagined I had him standing before me, pushing his hot member slowly into me.

 

After having demonstrated with the banana Mommy had gone from theory to practice, woken Daddy up from a lie-in, and brought him, naked, onto the patio where, with him standing before us, she had begun to lick away at his already hardening shaft. She had teased him mercilessly, just with her tongue, lapping up the little spill of cream from the tip as his arousal grew. Then she had begun to suck while gazing up at him with sly, smiling eyes. She had used her hand to cup and gently massage his bulging scrotum while continuing to stimulate the head using all of her mouth. I'd watched her cheeks bulge in different places as she'd let him poke into every corner. Occasionally, she'd open her lips wide and just brush part of them against him, something she later told me she called 'hula-hooping', and all the while she'd performed this act I'd heard the wet sound of her tongue working away at him inside her mouth.

 

I was amazed at how much she made his cock grow. Finally he bent his head back, gasping and groaning, as rivers of his cream gushed from around Mommy's mouth to leave pearl-like droplets on her fully-rounded breasts and engorged nipples. Then she turned to me and planted her sticky mouth on mine. I felt her tongue slide in and pass some of my Daddy's seed into my mouth, which I swallowed greedily, while some of it, with saliva, dribbled onto my pubic hair. This leaked down my labia, between my legs and onto the bench where it joined the steadily widening pool of my lubricant.

 

"Good morning, babes," he drawled and sat on the chair opposite looking mightily pleased with himself and us. Mommy and I giggled and shared more sticky kisses while our hands wandered casually over each others' bodies. After having laid dormant against his belly for a few minutes his growing arousal soon became apparent. It was already hardening and growing, pointing upwards, bending back a little, its tip touching his belly button.

 

"Would you like to take care of that?" Mommy asked me.

 

Daddy needed no prompting. He returned to the same spot as before but facing me, and I was confronted by the slightly intimidating sight of my Daddy's cock straining upwards as if trying to find my salivating mouth by itself. The skin around it was all free of hair after Mommy and me had used his electric shaver on him the previous evening during our foreplay.

 

She had begun but then had let me take over, such had been my eagerness to please them both. With his organ cradled in my left palm like a sleeping bird I'd gently drawn the buzzing shaver across his groin. Each time I'd brought it to the root of the wakening cock I'd pause and smile up at him. Mommy had made me take special care on the wrinkles of his bulging, heavy scrotum which was also haired, though thinly. I'd made him nice and smooth for us to lick and suck on and by the time I'd finished he was completely erect. I'd then used the shaver to tease him a little by placing its side just behind the crown and letting it vibrate into the frenulum. Judging by his reaction this had been most welcome.

 

"You do learn fast," Mommy had said with a raised brow.

 

As we continued the lesson she crossed her legs with her fingers linked at her knee while she watched me critically as I attempted to perform fellatio as well as she had. I gazed up at Daddy over his slightly haired chest. I wanted to be good at this. I wanted to give him real pleasure, the kind of pleasure that would bind him to me even more closely. I bent forward, pushed the tip of my tongue between my lips and touched it to the base of his growing erection, which was still a little moist from Mommy's work on it. He twitched and I felt his hard hotness against my cheek. With just the tip of my tongue on his smooth cock skin I moved it slowly upwards until it met with the mild and lovely flow of his lubricating precum. I took up this clear liquid in a kiss, sucking it and gulping it down greedily. I planted more kisses on every side, moving up and up until I finally reached the crown. I kissed the tip, leaned back a little for a moment to make eye contact with him once more, then took the whole head into my mouth. All the while Mommy was whispering instructions and encouragement as she caressed his buttocks with one hand and my thighs with the other.

 

"Work up to it, sweetie," she said gently. "Don't feel like you have to take it all straight away. Tease him. That way you'll let his pleasure build naturally and you'll find yourself more relaxed by the time you want to take more of him into you."

 

She showed me how to work my fingers up and down the sides of him to simulate the sensations of vaginal walls fluttering and contracting. One skill she hadn't taught me, but which I had seen her perform a few times, was rubbing the head with a moistened palm while licking him up and down from the head to the balls.

 

"Fuck!" cried out Daddy as I executed this movement with gathering speed.

 

"Good, excellent!" praised Mommy.

 

When I returned to sucking him I found that I could take in a little more. I found the point at which I'd normally gag, let my throat completely relax, and slowly allowed more of him inside me. I coughed through my nose but still managed to hold him there for a few seconds. When he withdrew I panted and heaved and they both asked me if I was OK. I replied with a winning smile, took a sip of the orange juice she offered me, then placed my lips around him again, moving down and down until I felt the head gliding its way to the back of my tongue to enter my throat. I reflexively gulped around the huge organ but managed to keep him there for longer than before until he pushed forward another half inch so that I could feel him touching the back of my throat. He was still too big for me to take him in so far that my nose touched his groin, like she always did, but he was in so much further than I'd ever taken him before. He was throbbing away really powerfully now, hardening still more and more, increasing in size and heat. My throat tightened around the head and I heard him gasp in ecstasy.

 

Suddenly it arrived, gushing against the back of my throat, filling me up and up, choking me, shooting down into my stomach and exiting from around my lips. I hastily withdrew and breathed for the first time in what might have been a minute. My violent coughs elicited concern from them, but these eventually subsided. I grinned and they laughed.

 

Now, on this sunny September morning, I considered this lesson as I played with the banana, and the pride I had felt afterwards at learning how to do something really well, though it had taken quite a few more sessions for me to get where I was now. A good bought of oral sex on Daddy, while Mommy went down on me, had often completed our love-making at that time, until she had developed her taste for cream pie and started to insist that he always came inside me first.

 

By now the banana was completely slicked with saliva. I had no problem sliding it into my pussy which for hours had been crying out for love. As with my mouth my pussy initially felt that the banana was strange and lifeless compared to my Daddy's penis, but right now it was all I had. As I toyed myself I remembered how, after my first fellatio lesson, he had taken me right there over the table, bending me forwards and pressing into me while I'd squealed, first with alarm, then joy. During the lesson my lust had been building to an almost unbearable level and I'd cum almost immediately. As he had already cum twice in just a few minutes he was able to give me a mind-blowing fuck that was as long as it was hard and fast, drawing multiple orgasms from my quaking body.

 

"Wow!" said Mommy admiringly as she observed us for a few minutes with her arms folded, though I thought I detected something else in her tone, perhaps a slight displeasure. It was only later that I recognised that displeasure as jealousy. Presently she joined us by insinuating herself between me and the table so that I could embrace her while bending her forwards and sliding my fingers into her moistness. The wind changed direction and the rain splashed onto us, making us even wetter. Daddy's stamina, coupled with my unskilled finger-fucking, meant that their orgasms were a long time in building, and when they came at the same glorious moment another erupted in me, and all three of us cried out, she screaming the loudest, him grunting spasmodically and me wailing like a little child. Mommy collapsed onto the remains of our breakfast with me on top of her.

 

With my entire body I remembered the joy of that morning as I used the banana on myself. I lifted my legs onto the empty table, spread them wide and worked away at my pussy in earnest, determined at least to feel something of the awesome pleasure I'd experience if they were here with me now. The day was getting warmer and the sun shone hotly on my feet as they dangled over the other side of the table. My pussy clutched hard around the banana as I twisted it around deep inside. I wanted my Daddy's cock so bad. I thrust the fruit in and out as the sun poked from above a bush and shone into my eyes. I came with my legs quivering violently on the table and my love juices shot in a hot arc to make a puddle beneath. After an age I drew a heavy breath, licked my parched lips and withdrew the fruit from my loins. My hair was matted in a sweaty mess all over my face and neck.

 

"Phew!" I breathed quietly, took my weak legs from the table and sat up. I slowly unpeeled the banana, thinking of how much I enjoyed pulling back Daddy's foreskin to reveal the moistening eye. I closed my eyes as I ate, enjoying how the warm fruit quickly softened in my mouth. Time for a shower, I thought, and my body, with no warning, decided to throw up on the wooden boards of the patio.

 

"Oh, shit," I breathed. Despite our best attempts, Mommy and I had already failed to completely remove the cum stains that we had all left here over the last three months. "We're going to need a new patio," I said to myself as I tried to get the worst of the vomit and cum up with a mop. I tasted yesterday's evening meal along with the semen I'd swallowed for a starter.

 

On my way through the hall to the stairs I noticed through the windows beside the front door that Daddy's navy BMW was still there. I peered through the stained glass beside the solid oak door and saw both of them sitting in the car still parked on the driveway. Gripped by a sudden irritation I pulled the door open and strode out across the drive. I could hear them yelling at the tops of their voices, though the windows were all up. I knocked on her side and stood glaring down at her with folded arms. She looked up, gaped in shock for moment, then reached onto the back seat. With an old sports jacket of Daddy's she leaped out of the car and waved, smiling tightly, across the street. Our elderly neighbor was collecting her mail from her mail box but had frozen, apparently, at the sight of me. I was still completely nude from head to toe, not that I much cared. Mommy put the jacket around me which engulfed my petite torso and almost went down to my knees. Roughly she pulled it across my breasts, grabbed my arms and yanked me back to the house while I tripped, trying to keep up with her.

 

"Will you pull yourself together and put some clothes on, girl!" she yelled in my face once we were back indoors.

 

"What're clothes?" I mumbled and shrugged, letting the jacket fall to the floor. "It's days since I wore any. Why should I bother now?"

 

She grabbed the the jacket and hung it in the hall, suppressed fury evident in every tight movement. "Though you may find it hard to believe," she said after taking a few deeps breaths, "this is a respectable family."

 

I couldn't help snicker at that but managed to jump back in time before her hand swiped the air in front of my face. She said a few more things about 'maintaining an air of common decency', then spun on her stiletto and left again without a further word. I watched her nicely rounded buttocks undulating beneath the tight material of her cream-colored skirt and only just saved myself from impulsively reaching out to grab them.

 

At the slammed door I screamed, "Why do you still have to treat me like I'm a child?" with enough force for her to hear. I moped on the stairs for a while until I heard both the BMW and Mommy's Chrysler drive off. With a heavy sigh I went for my shower. During this I shaved my legs, something I'd never done until three months ago but which I now did twice a week. My pussy still felt silky smooth as I'd shaved myself there just three days before.

 

Afterwards I wiped some of the steam away from the mirror and gazed at myself for a long time with my hands on my hips. Though my pussy was now hairless there was nothing I could see to differentiate between the girl I had been just three months before from the girl I now saw in the mirror. The former had been an innocent virgin, a child, untouched by man or woman, with only theoretical knowledge of physical love. The latter was a harlot, corrupted by her own parents, a sex toy for a sex mad couple who had, in turn, driven their own daughter sex mad. I was a child no more, thanks to them, though my lack of pubes made me look even younger. That had been her suggestion, of course, but I loved the extra sensitivity it had given me.

 

Early one morning, when Daddy had been uncontrollably rampant all night and left the two of us almost completely coated in his cum, Mommy had lead me by the hand to the bathroom where she'd washed me lovingly and sensuously in the bath. She had then shaved me, taking an age over it and being so gentle. I'd tensed instinctively at first, but then relaxed quickly after she'd spent a few moments massaging my thighs and hips.

 

She washed all the hair away and left a clump of wet, red curls on the edge of the bath beside me, then bent forward until her face was just an inch from my crotch. As she looked up at me through her thick, black eyelashes I felt her warm breath. Then came the most delicate sensation, which drew a sharp hiss from me, of her tongue on my labia. I'd already felt her mouth on my pussy countless times but this feeling was new, so sharp and clear, like a radiant dawn of new pleasure. I laid back against the tiled wall, closed my eyes and spread my legs wide. My clitty poked from under its hood in a rush of arousal and met with a kiss from Mommy's lips. She sucked on the hardening bud while I squirmed against the wall and whimpered. Her tongue penetrated me, teasingly at first, then deeply, probing me and making me open wider for her. She drew her tongue from my taint to my clit, then went back down planting light kisses all the way. Her index fingertip pressed into the now ragingly hard button while she entered me again with her tongue. I gasped and thumped the wall, astonished at this extraordinary new feeling while I lubricated more and more until finally violent spasms drew a river of lust gushing out from me into her waiting mouth. What she didn't drink painted her beautiful face, washing it clean of Daddy's cum.

 

She then let me watch as she shaved herself, first her long, beautiful, shapely legs and then her own pussy. I watched her from the other end of the bath while she skilfully made herself as smooth as she'd made me, though she'd have been finished quicker had she not paused every few seconds to rub herself while casting glances in my direction. Then she scooped as much of her hair up as she could from the water and left another clump next to mine, a pool of black ink on the tiles. I needed no prompting and crawled on my hands and knees through the water until I was kneeling between her spread legs. I gazed up at her adoringly and blew softly across the wet folds of smooth skin. Her pudenda was paler than the rest of her after she'd spent just an hour sunbathing nude in the garden the day before. I heard the catch of her breath in her throat, saw her tilt her head back and close her eyes. I leaned forward.

 

I touched my nose right on the drooling eye of her vulva and inhaled deeply. I loved the sweet smell of her and almost became drunk on it, like I had swallowed glass after glass of mead. I poked my tongue between my lips, placed it gently to her hole and was instantly gratified by a deep groan of pleasure drawn from her breast. As she had done to me I lightly touched her love button with my fingertip, caressed and gently stroked, then pressed and rubbed. Her body tensed and I thought she was about to cum already, so I left her clitty throbbing in the moist air of the bathroom and moved my finger downwards, drawing a sigh from her, perhaps one of frustration. I grinned up at her, but her eyes were fast shut. I poked my finger inside her to the first knuckle, drew it around in a circle, and withdrew it to find it glistening with a thick coat of her lubricant. I slowly drew this finger upwards until it nudged her clitty, just for an instant. She grabbed my hand firmly and forced my finger back down on her, apparently unable to bear further teasing. I pressed hard and rubbed, stuck out my tongue and begun fucking her as well, I hoped, as she had me. Soon I was rewarded with a warm tide that flowed into my mouth, ran down my chin, onto my nipples. She really did taste delicious, like fermented honey.

 

The following afternoon she had returned from work early and woken me from my daytime slumber with a kiss to my pussy. I'd been sleeping curled into a tight fetal position on top of the bed clothes. She'd then sat with me between her legs while cradling my head with one hand, and with the other given me my first little orgasm of the night. I'd cried like a baby in her arms and whimpered, "I love you, Mommy."

 

Now, after showering, my eyes were drawn to my belly with its new life growing deep inside it. There was nothing to see, but it was surely there. Not for much longer, it seems, I thought to myself. My shoulders slumped and I heaved another deep sigh.

 

I was still as skinny as before, almost prepubescent. My hips were almost flat, unlike Mommy's which were nicely curved. Then I noticed something, that there had been a change, and I studied my chest from different angles. With a finger I poked at unfamiliar mounds there, discovering a new softness and weight. I drew my shoulders inwards and was amazed to see cleavage develop in the middle! I suddenly felt overjoyed that finally I had grown a decent pair of boobs. I jumped and they shook up and down. They were still tiny, only little pillowed domes of flesh, but they made me feel grown up, like a real woman, for the first time. For the last week the areolae around my nipples had been darker, swollen and puffy, and more sensitive to licks and flicks of the tongue, but now they looked bigger and thicker, and were more stiffly engorged.

 

I searched my blue eyes for signs of my inner whore, but they gazed back clearly, almost chastely. I puckered my lips and blew a kiss to myself. A second later I had my lips and body pressed to the glass as I passionately snogged myself. I pushed my hand between my pussy and the glass and started to rub hard while kissing my reflection over and over. This was something I had done a few times as a child, but never before with such vehemence. Rubbing was now insufficient so, inevitably, my index and middle fingers soon found their way up inside me. I ran the second knuckle of my middle finger around my vulva, opening myself wide while my mouth opened in sympathy to form an 'O'. I closed my eyes and squeezed my legs together while continuing to wank myself harder and faster. I cried as I came, my entire body shuddering with sexual pleasure and emotional pain.

 

After shaking with orgasmic aftershocks and sobs for minutes on the edge of the bath I finally stood, towelled off the wetness on my thrilling skin, and stood. It was only then I noticed a small oblong box on the window sill: a pregnancy test. I picked it up and had a look inside. Had she bought this recently or was it something she kept around as a matter of course? I pulled the little plastic stick from the box and looked it over wondering how on earth to use it. Am I supposed to put this up myself? I wondered. I decided I was probably too stupid to do it without Mommy's help, or that was my excuse, placed the weird thing back in its box and went into my bedroom.

 

It was true what I'd said about clothes. I'd been sleeping all day every day for almost a week and spent all night, from dusk to dawn, being fucked by my parents. Mommy would often wake me with kisses to my nipples, which would usually be hard from an erotic dream, or Daddy would do it with his sweet cock, grazing it over my already moist pussy lips and letting it harden against my stiffening clitty. How they managed to do their jobs adequately I had no idea. Maybe they sleep while their patients talk to them, I wondered.

 

I looked from my window as I brushed my hair, not caring if I was seen, not from any need to be an exhibitionist but simply because protecting my modesty didn't occur to me. Clothes just seemed superfluous to me now. It was such a beautiful, warm day. Why would anyone need layers of clothes to go around in?

 

I went online and, seeing the amount of unread emails, realised how little time I'd devoted recently to anything but sex. It was so unlike me to neglect Miranda from whom I'd received a dozen messages asking how I was with mounting concern. Maybe Mommy was right. I did miss my friend. I'd promised last time I'd seen her that I'd keep in touch. We'd grown so close over our three years at the convent school where we'd been denied so many things girls our age normally take for granted. No Internet, no shopping, no boys. Leaving the remote, oppressive place had been like being let out of a prison.

 

Of course, now I knew why I'd been sent there. My parents were hardly religious. I'd been sent there to prevent them both from committing a felony. Looking back to before I'd left I'd noticed Daddy's frequent glances at my legs and wondered at how Mommy's hands would sometimes linger on me, caressingly, for just a moment longer than I knew was normal. I'd only just started to menstruate. I asked myself, as I looked into my wardrobe, if Miranda had been sent there for a similar reason.

 

She had already been there for three years, as had most of the other girls, and I would have really struggled to make friends had it not been for her. Unlike me she was outgoing and would talk to anyone. We'd been put together in a bedroom of four with bunk beds and mine was on top of hers. In many ways we were total opposites. She was always eating, always talking. She'd looked so innocent in her uniform, until she'd wink a dark eye or tell an obscene joke, for which she'd then be punished. At first I was taken aback by the forwardness of the extroverted, chubby girl, but we'd soon become firm friends, and the little confidence in myself I'd managed to muster while at the school I owed almost entirely to her.

 

I thought of the event that had lead to my friend coining her own private nickname for me and smiled.

 

It was on the morning of the last day of my first term when our parents would come to collect all of us for Christmas. We all finished breakfast, and then Miranda hopped onto a table to dance in celebration. The other girls teased her, shouting, "They're coming, Miranda, get down!" and, "Quick, Sister Aggie's here! She'll get you cleaning out her filthy cell again!" But the nuns, unusually, seemed to be busily occupied with something other than chastising us, and my friend danced on happily, her low-heeled shoes hammering our breakfast table, kicking spoons and bowls flying.

 

I laughed so hard at the sight of her executing lap dance moves, grinding her hips and lying back to kick her legs in the air, letting her skirt, which was a little too small for her, fly upwards to reveal a not very sexy pair of navy panties. She displayed such a disregard for the school rules, or for any decency at all, I decided she needed to be taught a lesson and smeared some of the marmalade I'd been eating around my mouth. I bared my teeth and nails, jumped up onto the table myself and growled at her viciously, hoping I looked like some kind of scary vampire. She screamed in horror, leaped from the table and ran from the refectory, leaving the other girls howling with laughter. I pursued her down the hall, loving how she'd cast looks of mock fright over her shoulder while continuing to fill the entire school with her shrill outcries. I caught myself in the window and snickered at my gruesome reflection which resembled, with my unbrushed hair and the orange preserve drooling down my chin, that of a gorgon after having devoured a victim. I followed her into our room, onto her bunk, and leaped on top of her as we panted from the run, laughing hysterically.

 

She slapped and kicked me hard, but I fought back just as well, until I caught her wrists and pinned her arms to her pillow. We paused and I suddenly felt incredibly stupid, wondering at myself and what I was doing. I couldn't remember ever behaving like this, certainly not since kindergarten. Her glasses were steamed a little and I could smell her sweat. A glop of the marmalade fell from me right onto her fat lower lip and she stuck out her tongue to corral it into her mouth. Suddenly she raised herself on her elbows and licked me from one corner of my mouth to the other, wiping my lips clean. I stared at her, wondering what on earth she thought she was doing. Then she grabbed my head and fell back, kissing me roughly and forcing her tongue into me, sucking away at me and licking all around the inside of my mouth. I felt completely helpless and wondered if I should fight back, but I still let her do it.

 

"For shame!" came the bellow from behind us and I felt Miranda stiffen against me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Sister Agatha, as ever in her flowing, shapeless, monochrome habit and wimple, standing at the door, her face a florid grape.

 

My friend and I were then detained in the Mother Superior's office for over an hour, after which we were given the odorous task of mopping the floors of the refectory, the toilet and Sister Agatha's own private cell, which was indeed filthy. But this minor hardship had merely brought us closer together. Yes, it would be great to see Miranda again and it'd be fun to drop in out of the blue. Her wildness had always encouraged me to behave impulsively.

 

During the long, hot summer, in between our strenuous bouts of love-making, my parents had managed to find time to take me out to the mall, just on two occasions. One time he had bought me a pink T-shirt with 'Daddy's Girl' written across it in white. The other time she had bought me a pair of white denim hot pants with clouds of little, pale pink hearts sown into the pockets and one larger heart pierced by an arrow on the left buttock. These clothes leaped out at me immediately. I didn't even consider a bra, I just pulled the shirt over me, then jumped into the pants. They had fitted perfectly in the store but now they felt a little tight and the top button was a bit of a struggle.

 

"Oh, no, not already," I breathed while watching myself in the mirror and fumbling to force the button through. I pushed them back down off my hips a little to examine myself again from all sides, but my belly looked as flat as ever. I finally managed to do up the pants and decided the stiffness was merely due to their being new. I donned a pair of pink ankle socks and my white Hello Kitty sneakers, then sat on the edge of the bed, with the mirror before me while I braided my thick, red mane which was now down to my waist, my not having found time to cut it these last few months.

 

With my hair in two plaits I stood and noticed then that my nipples were poking through quite conspicuously, certainly more than the last time I'd worn a shirt, which was admittedly a good while ago. Maybe a bra might be a good idea, I thought, but it was so hot and, since leaving school, I hadn't bothered to wear one at all. I probed my new tits through the shirt, cupped them, then leaned forward and let them fill my hands.

 

I checked all the windows and doors but, before leaving, paused in my parents' bedroom. The smell of their sweat, the scent of his semen and her juices filled the warm air above the disarrayed sheets. In the middle lay a pair of her cotton panties. I was immediately drawn to them and sat on the bed with them in my hands, sniffing them, intoxicated by them. They were my favorite shade of pastel pink. They bore some signs of wear, including a tiny stain at the back which looked to me like semen. A pair of mine were now covered in such stains after he had taken me one time from behind at the kitchen sink, pulling them aside before plunging into me and fucking me savagely until he had cum quickly into my ass cleavage, filling the air with the lovely smell of his sperm. The back of the panties had been left smeared with this potent goo and the stains hadn't come out. He'd spent an age just swirling the underside of his sticky cock all over my buttocks while he'd played with my nipples and kissed my neck. He'd then left me to go and clean himself up, leaving me to finish rinsing my plate while his warm stickiness had slowly leaked down my crack until it tickled my labia. All of his white goo had quickly been cleaned from me by licks and sucks of my Mommy's soft mouth as she'd knelt between my legs. I'd placed my feet wide apart and leaned forward to let her collect every drop from my crack and pussy lips until she had driven her tongue into me and made my knees tremble against the cupboard.

 

Her panties still bore his smell, buried beneath her own scent. I unbuttoned my hot pants, pulled them down and drew the panties on. I was already missing her, and that way I felt a little closer to her. I lay back on the bed for a while, breathing deeply, touching and teasing myself but not bringing myself to orgasm. I felt sore, probably from the banana, and mere rubbing would not be enough right now. Without standing I wriggled back into the hot pants, finding it easier to squeeze into them that way, jumped up from the bed and left the house.

 

I got my bike from the garage and set off, sticking to the cycle lanes for most of the way. It was such a beautiful day and I loved the feeling of the sun on my bare skin. A gentle breeze passed sensuously across my smooth legs, cooling me. I was wearing a cap as I usually had to when out in the sun, my skin being prone to sunburn. It was some time before I noticed I was drawing looks from people, mostly men. I wondered why on earth they'd be staring at me and looked down at myself to make sure none of my clothing had slipped. I brushed some loose strands of hair away from my forehead. However, people still turned their heads continually as I rode past them. Strange, I thought.

 

The house where I stopped was detached, large and bore some signs, including a colonnaded portico, of this quaint old neighborhood's colonial past. My friend lived with her parents who were wealthy lawyers, and the family could trace their line back to their slave owning forebears. I left my bike on the gravel, trotted up the steps, feeling bright and happy for the first time in a day, to the black, shiny door and tapped a couple of times with the lion's head knocker. I turned to admire the front garden, large and dense enough in its foliage to deaden most of the traffic noise from the busy street. All was quiet.

 

I knocked again and began to wonder if she'd gone out. I trotted back down the steps and took a wander around the side, looking to see any signs of life through the window. Damn, I thought, and was wondering if it'd be OK if I went around to the back when I heard a noise like the moo of a distant cow. A bush next to me rustled and I suddenly remembered that close this place was to a golf course where alligators had been sighted recently. I backed away from the leaves, then heard another noise like the grunt of a bull. I remembered how big the back garden was from my last visit at Christmas when the house party had spilled out from the house onto the lawn. I'd admired how it just seemed to go on and on. Have they decided to keep livestock? I thought.

 

As I rounded the corner my eyes, which had been peeled for signs of Miranda, her family, or anything else that might be lurking in the area, were suddenly pierced by the sight of three naked bodies on top of each other. I tried, and failed, to suppress a gasp. The cries, which I surely should have recognised, had been the sounds of intense sex. There was my friend with her pale, full figure being pounded by two males, one from underneath, another from above. With her facing away from me I could easily observe the cause of her enjoyment: both males were rammed up in her, rapidly shuttling in and out. The one beneath, lying on his back and bucking his hips, was a well-muscled, smooth-skinned black guy whom I didn't know. His hands were behind his head and his eyes were hopelessly moored into the buttocks of my friend as she straddled him, while he and another guy continued to penetrate her hard and fast.

 

The one above was squatting with his feet planted firmly in the grass as he vigorously rocked his hips back and forth. His pale body was much less developed than his colleague's, almost girlish. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing though, and made little grunts of pleasure with each of his swift thrusts. He looked familiar to me.

 

I was considering just turning away and leaving the reunion for another time, but then the top male looked over his shoulder and laughed at me. I raised a hand to my mouth in shock, realising he had heard my gasp. I knew that cheeky, dark-eyed face. It was Mickey, Miranda's little brother! He was fucking his own sister! How old could he be? He couldn't be any more than thirteen at the most. How long had this been going on?

 

From where I stood, a fair stone's throw from the threesome, I heard Mickey and Miranda conversing breathlessly between grunts and groans, then my friend's bright, piercing laugh.

 

"Hey, Marmalade!" she called, twisting her head to look around. "Aah, haha!" I caught the flash of sunlight on her glasses.

 

"Is she in on this or what?" said the black guy looking up at me.

 

"Wanna join us?" said my friend and she laughed again, casting glances back in between her brother's legs. "You look like Anne of Green Gables with your hair like that."

 

"She ain't dressed like Anne of Gables," the black guy said looking me up and down. "What's that say on your shirt? Uh, uh, it's upside down, uh!"

 

"Daddy's girl!" laughed Miranda even louder.

 

"Lucky Daddy!"

 

"Ooh, yes, Henry, yes, yes yes!"

 

Then Mickey threw his head back, let out a long animal moan and thrust hard into his sister, making her squeal. He then flopped onto the lawn but his pink penis still proudly saluted his sister's ass in which was plainly visible the trace of his incestuous deed. It leaked from her like a foaming waterfall down onto Henry's six pack stomach. I shook my head and was suddenly conscious of a burning flush from my hair line all the way down to my breasts where my nipples were standing hard to attention. I turned and began marching back to the front, catching strange yelps of pleasure or consternation, I couldn't tell, from behind. "How could she?" I said angrily into the air, clenching my fists. The nuns had always been admonishing her for her 'brazenness'. "Whore!" I yelled back. The sight of them, instead of arousing me, as the sight of my parents would, had sickened me down to my stomach and I had to pause for a moment while I ejected what was left in it into the same bush that had rustled earlier. There was another rustle, but no alligator issued forth, just a little, black, indignant-looking cat.

 

The house was so huge it must have taken me a minute to get back to my bike, but before I could sling a leg over, I heard the door suddenly burst open and my friend, with nothing but a kitchen towel to cover her modesty, came running down the steps to meet me. She seemed not to have heard my yell.

 

"Don't go, Marmalade!" she cried in protest. "It's so long since I've seen you."

 

She threw her arms around me and lost the towel until she was standing in nothing but her glasses. She was a head shorter than me and her round boobs bumped against my tummy. After embracing me tightly she stepped back to look me up and down.

 

"Wow!" she said, sounding genuinely impressed about something. "Are you the same goody two shoes I used to dance for?" she grinned. In my cotton pajamas I'd often sat on my bed while she, in nothing but a T-shirt and panties, would grind her wide hips before me and shake her tits, making me giggle and sometimes hoot with laughter until the nuns had come to scold us and tuck us back under the covers. "I don't believe it!" she cried, after studying me further. "You've actually, really done it!"

 

I couldn't help but grin back, a little sheepishly, I think, and my blush must have intensified. She put her arms around me again and hugged me even harder. Then I noticed at the door the hard body of her black friend, still naked, with his enormous, serpentine, unsatisfied lust on proud display. It was a least a foot long, even bigger than Daddy's, and it weaved through the air before him as he stepped forwards.

 

Miranda pleaded, "Don't go, Marmalade! We're having a superparty tonight. Everyone's invited. There'll be lots of girls too." She winked at me. I was gripping the handlebars tightly while eyeing her approaching friend. My mouth salivated. I didn't know if I should turn and run or fall on my knees. In fact, my body was responding and behaving in so many different ways I felt very confused. A wave of sadness swept over me and the tears I'd been holding back sprang from me suddenly. Despite my apparent neglect of our friendship I'd been secretly yearning all summer to renew it and had looked forward to this moment for so long.

 

The cry, "I'm pregnant!" was wrenched from me and my body trembled, glad of the release this outburst gave me.

 

Miranda's broad jaw dropped and her smile faded. "Who's the father?"

 

Henry stood behind her with his hands on his narrow hips, sighing impatiently. I think I dropped my eyes for a moment. When I raised them and regarded her sadly through tears I could see her gaze had followed mine, as it had dropped from Henry, to my shirt. Her generous mouth fell open again, then she suddenly yelped and jumped a foot in the air as Henry's hand landed on her buttock with a slap that reverberated loudly in the trees.

 

"Come on, pawg meat," he rumbled, "let's get you back in that sandwich," and he grabbed her from behind around her swinging, pendulous tits. As he dragged her backwards across the gravel and up the steps, her heels grazing the ground and her toes sticking upwards, she shrugged at me with a wistful smile on her round face, waved and disappeared back into the house. I watched the empty doorway for a minute before turning and slowly pushing my bike down the long path back to the front gate. By the time I reached it I was crying openly and I sat by the black, iron railings watching the pedestrians crossing back and forth just a couple of feet from my face, everyone ignoring me, pressing on, attending to their busy lives.

 

For the first couple of streets that took me home I was too shaky to ride, so I traipsed along the sidewalks, pushing my bike. But I finally gathered my strength and was nearing the end of the journey when I suddenly became aware of the most powerful ache between my legs. The friction of riding with the tight denim against me, and the pressure of the bicycle seat, was making me incredibly aroused. In fact, it felt like I was actually being penetrated then and there, and I looked down to check that the seat was adjusted correctly. A couple of weeks ago Mommy had mentioned something to me that had made me laugh, something that she admitted to often experiencing during the day: 'phantom cock'. And for the rest of that night I'd called Daddy 'The Incredible Phantom Cock'.

 

Now I could feel him, his hard length all the way up me until the head kissed my cervix. I gasped, slowed my pedalling and glided up to a junction in a daze, almost forgetting to stop. I leaned forward on the handlebars, looked down and saw my front wheel was just over the line. All around me cars and trucks growled with impatience. I was so hot and sweat was literally pouring from me onto the road. Only dimly aware of a distant whistling, I moved as if in a dream and pressed my crotch into the seat, cursing its padding and wishing for something harder. As if it was Daddy beneath me I humped the seat, squeezing my legs tightly, sighing and moaning away my frustration with mounting pleasure. Against the black tarmacadam I saw my Daddy's face, reddened with exertion, moist with perspiration and, as I pressed my lips to the back of my hand, I imagined bending to kiss him. Instead of the bike seat it was him letting me pound away at him, letting me feel every inch of him, until he finally erupted into my womb, filling it with a hot rush. I came trembling on the bike with my hot body rigid against it, my legs tensing, shaking, then relaxing until I had to stop myself from toppling over.

 

"Oh, Daddy!" I moaned through clenched teeth and watched as saliva from my mouth and drops of sweat from my forehead rained on the road, only to evaporate almost instantly in the heat.

 

I weakly raised my head and wiped away tears, sweat and a few stray hairs that had caked to my hot forehead. It was only then I saw, directly opposite, a line of trucks waiting to go, with their drivers all grinning from ear to ear, the source of the whistling. Then came the sound, hollerred from their windows, of wild cheers and whoops. I was beyond mere blushing now. I was one red hot pile of flesh out there on the road, and certainly nothing more than that to those drivers. When the lights finally changed, mercifully, I realised how lucky I'd been that they hadn't during my distraction, which couldn't have taken more than a minute. I'd been so turned on, and I realised that the sight of my friend getting it from her brother and Henry the stud had not sickened me as much as I'd thought.

 

Back home my legs gave way beneath me in the hall and I sat on the floor for minutes, my bum on my sneakers, my knees wide apart and my hands supporting as I leaned forward. I was utterly exhausted. I finally stood, probably resembling a new born roe taking her first steps, stripped, leaving my clothes in a heap in the kitchen, and went to my room. I fell heavily on my bed and must have drifted off for most of the rest of the day. When I awoke the sun was around the other side of the house and shining warmly onto my naked body.

 

I turned onto my back with a hand under my head and gazed at the ceiling while my other hand took a wander over my belly, feeling for any telltale signs of life. I dared to press a little, almost expecting to feel a tiny fluttering on the other side of the skin and tissue. Nothing, save a gurgle from my stomach. I only then realised how ravenous I was, yet somehow I didn't feel like eating and I played with myself for a little while, just caressing and teasing myself gently. How I wished they were my Mommy's hands that instinctively knew all the ways to please me. How she'd spend hours devoting herself to my pleasure, and her own. Or she had.

 

Over the last two or three weeks she had been a little distant and had used soreness and 'phantom cock' as excuses not to join Daddy and me. A few nights, during her period, she had even slept in my bed. I'd asked if something was wrong, but whatever it was, she didn't want to talk about it and Daddy would merely shrug and continue fucking me as usual.

 

My phone chimed and I grabbed it from the bedside table without getting up. It was Miranda texting me an invite to the 'superparty' and to offer her shoulder for me to cry on if I needed it. I didn't much fancy crying on a shoulder that would no doubt spend much of the night bumping up and down, so I replaced the phone on the table. Then I remembered something and, grabbing it back, opened a file, turned up the volume and watched Mommy and Daddy fuck in their bed with him on top of her as she raised and splayed her legs wide in a 'V'.

 

"Oh, yes, fuck me, honey, fuck me real good. Put all of it up me, aah yeah, just like that, like that, like ooh, yeah!"

 

I remembered taking the video one early morning many weeks ago when Daddy had been so horny, so possessed by animal lust, that even Mommy had been a little intimidated, until she'd given in trying to do anything except let herself get fucked over and over. The three of us shared so much love, or we had, I thought sadly, that I never felt remotely jealous if he had spent more time entering her than me. I was just so happy to see them so happy, giving so much pleasure to each other, that it filled with a deep joy and fulfilment. Not only did the sight of them screwing turn me on, it made me feel so loved. When they made love to each other I was a part of it too, even if I only watched. I know Daddy loved to watch me with her and I hoped she felt the same way when he devoted himself to me, but somehow I knew she didn't, at least, not now.

 

One evening, immediately upon returning home, he'd gone down on me to give me a lovely series of gentle orgasms with his tongue and, in between my tremors, he'd mentioned to me casually that he thought Mommy was 'a little jealous'. I knew he was right and it made me sad, but the joy he was giving me at that moment had driven all bitter thoughts from my mind.

 

Later he had taken me in much the same way he'd taken her in the video and he had spent what seemed like hours thrusting deep into me, over and over. I had been so transported by the intense feeling of being fucked for so long that it had seemed like I had reached another level of consciousness. I had felt like my body, just lying there, taking it, filled up and shaking every few minutes with mounting ecstasy, was being reduced to nothing but a tool for pleasure.

 

No, that's wrong. I mean, my body was raised to being something more than that of a young girl, a plain-looking, shy daughter who loved her parents more than words could say. I'd become transformed into something higher, a supernatural being of orgasmic joy, like an angel of light, pulsing in the cosmos with radiant, sexual love. Then, as the force of his fucking had made my head start to bump against the headboard, I'd slowly come down from this feeling, floated back to earth, and opened my eyes.

 

He was still so hard inside me and my pussy was still gripping him tightly, yearning for him to finally give up his milky spunk. Then I looked into his blue, dreamy eyes and noticed that he was not looking at me but at my photo on the bedside table. I followed his gaze over the pillow and across Mommy. The picture was a school portrait of me in my uniform: white short-sleeved blouse, a blue and white striped tie, a navy skirt and a straw boater with a blue and white ribbon. It'd been taken in my first year when I was fifteen. I gasped in mild shock.

 

"Daddy!" I cried and grinned up at him, hugging his body with my legs and squeezing his cock with my tightening pussy.

 

"Hm, Daddy's being very naughty," said Mommy critically, then turned onto her side for a moment and placed the picture face down in its frame. She'd continued fingering herself with one hand while holding my phone with the other, marvelling at his stamina and the seemingly endless amount of orgasms he was giving me. They'd even exchanged a few bitchy comments about how little time he was spending on her, none of which put him off his confident, metronomic stroke.

 

I opened that video up too and watched as his tight ass raised and fell between my freckled legs, his body undulating like a steep wave. My thin, mottled limbs were all that was visible of me at first, until the angle changed slightly and I caught a glimpse of my face. My eyes were tightly shut and my small mouth was wide open. I couldn't believe how much noise I was making, more than Mommy ever would, and she was loud. But then Daddy had really driven me to the limit that night. I continued watching as he turned me over and rubbed himself around the crack of my ass until I was thoroughly lubricated. I remembered that moment, how he had throbbed against my clitty.

 

He had been about to impale me again when the sound of Hot Chocolate's 'You Sexy Thing' had suddenly grooved from the bedside table accompanied by a thunderous vibration in the quiet, warm evening air. In private he'd told me he'd chosen that ringtone in dedication to me. Mommy had picked up his phone, glanced at it, then handed it to him. To my slight annoyance he had answered, but then he had spent all evening working away at me and I'd decided it was churlish of me to mind.

 

"Hi, Roz," he said, sounding a little awkward, and for a moment my body froze, but I soon relaxed under the caresses of his free hand. I pushed my ass back against him and twerked a little, loving the feel of the underside of his cock lubing me and his swollen testicles kissing my vulva. I bumped against him insistently, urgently inviting him to penetrate me again. So he began fucking me, but slowly and gently, as if his spirit was not entirely in it. He said nothing for a while until, without warning, he slipped his entire lubricated length deep into me and gasped, "Aah, Rosalind!" Then came the gorgeous new sensation of him hosing the innards of my vagina with his love cream, shooting and shooting continually until it leaked out from around his cock and down my thighs. This triggered my own orgasm, one of a myriad I had that night, which erupted quickly, like a hard smack to the depths of my body, reverberating outwards to engulf my entire awareness. My legs spasmed against him while I ejaculated and squirted into his genitals, screaming in wild ecstasy As he lay panting on top of me he reached for where he'd dropped the phone, said, "Hello?" into it, then dropped it beside my head. He slipped off me easily, our bodies were so slicked with sweat, and I rolled onto my back.

 

Mommy suddenly sprang up, yanked my legs wide apart and went down on me, burying her mouth and nose into me, sucking away hard, until I felt yet another orgasm building. My whole body convulsed as I ejaculated into her mouth. When she raised her face I saw, not just the traces of my own juices smeared over her mouth, chin and cheeks, but also some of the thick, pure white ejaculate of my Daddy. Her eyes were glazed and heavy-lidded. She was drunk on me.

 

I'd felt so satisfied and sore I hadn't masturbated at all during the following day. That had been the first time, the first of many, he had planted his seed in me. After that there seemed to be not much point in worrying about it, and we'd all come to consider it an essential part of the joyful act we shared together. But, thinking back, it was from that moment that the flame of her passion had begun to wane. All because of a call from Rosalind.

 

During a brief lull that night while we'd made tea and taken some time to draw breath I'd falteringly asked Daddy about Rosalind, finding I could barely bring myself to say the name. He told me she'd just said that she missed him and Mommy. I couldn't erase the idea from my mind that, at that critical moment, when he'd forgotten to pull out, he'd been thinking, not of me, but of that other girl, the one who looked so much like me, or a glammed up version of me.

 

After watching the videos while caressing myself in the hot sun from the window I felt a little more refreshed. I jumped from the bed and had another look over the clothes in my wardrobe. Right at the end of it, squashed and barely visible, were the white, cotton blouse and navy skirt, the uniform I'd worn in my final year at school. I had to yank them out hard, there were so many clothes crammed against them. After digging around at the bottom of the wardrobe I managed to lay hands on the flat-heeled shiny black, buckle shoes that I'd worn to school. I jumped into a pair of clean white socks, the idea of a shower not occurring to me, slipped into the skirt and buttoned on the blouse. It all felt light and suitable for the hot weather. I grabbed the hat from Booger, my brown, stuffed bear, who had been wearing the hat all summer.

 

"Sorry, Booger," I said and, after donning that and the shoes, took a look at myself in the mirror. I could literally have still been fifteen, such was my perpetually innocent look, and the two plaits hanging down over my chest which really did make me look like Anne of Green Gables. Anne of Green Gables with tits, I thought, winking at my reflection. He's not going to be able to resist me in this! And I rushed to the kitchen to wait for him to arrive home. We should have time for at least one before Mommy gets home, I thought, and skipped happily along on the hall.

 

In the mean time I decided to satisfy another craving and went straight to the freezer. Seeing no reason for a main course when I could just as easily skip straight to dessert I started with my favorite: chocolate ice cream. I scooped heaps of it into a bowl and was about to return what little was left of it into the freezer when I noticed a pack of potato waffles. Fried would be great, I thought, and slung a couple of those in a pan. I stuffed most of the ice cream while I was waiting for that, then finished off the rest of it smeared across the waffles. It was only after finishing that I realised what a peculiar meal it had been. A lonely tear sprang from my left eye and rolled down my cheek.

 

"It must be true," I whispered, and then heard the sound of keys scraping in the lock of the front door, followed by a heavy step in the hall.

 

Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2017