The Storm

Chapter 1 - The Accident

“God, John! Are we going to be able to make it?” whispered Anita Andrews to her husband. She scraped at the condensation on her passenger’s side window and looked out into the storm.

Glancing in the rearview mirror at their two daughters sitting in the back seat, John Andrews quietly said, “I hope so. If this gets any worse, I’m going to have to find some place to stop for the night.”

Anita simply nodded her head to him, but privately she was beginning to have doubts. Every winter since the girls had learned to walk, the Andrews family had loaded up the car and gone skiing. This year they were headed into the northern Adirondacks. Earlier in the day, as they were leaving home, they had been delighted to hear of the coming snowstorm, with its promise of great skiing conditions. Now she wasn’t so sure. The nor’easter had moved in with a surprising speed and fury.

Now, as the station wagon slowly made its way northward, the family began to hear of road closings coming patchily over the radio stations. They were already three hours behind in their schedule and the roads seemed to be getting worse. After the highway had been closed because of a jack-knifed tractor- trailer, they had decided to go north on a smaller side road. Now it was dark, and all Anita could see was masses of snow dropping on the windshield.

“Honey, maybe we should get back on the highway? We could probably find a motel or something.”

“Yeah, Dad,” piped up a voice in the back seat. “This is getting pretty ridiculous.”

John looked into the rear mirror again. Laurie was looking at him with fear in her eyes. Next to her, her identical twin sister, Cory, simply sat quietly, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms around her legs.

John Andrews simply nodded briefly. “Okay. As soon as we get off this road, we start looking for a place to bed down. Seat belts on?” A brief flurry of belt checks assured him everyone was buckled in securely. While Anita tried to tune in another station, John shrugged his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. The driving was worse than he had let on. The heavily loaded car was handling like a bus, and the snow was turning to glare ice on the roadway. High beams were useless, and the low beams were not much better. Worse, he was beginning to think they had missed the turnoff back to the highway. If they stopped to turn around, he felt sure they would never get moving again. Better to brave it out and hope for the best!

With a sickening lurch in his stomach, John Andrews realized the best was not to be. As they came around a gentle curve, the road dipped and John had to tap the brakes. In an instant, he knew they were sliding. Yelling out, “Hang on!” he braced himself against the wheel as they skidded sideways off the far side of the road. The left rear fender crunched sickeningly into a snowbank, then the front end spun forward and straightened out. No matter what he did to the steering wheel, it was useless, the car had a mind of its own. Plowing through the bank, the station wagon slid down a 45-degree embankment, slowing and then stopping with a thunk against a dead oak stump.

John sat there stunned for a moment, then shook himself alive. “Well! That was interesting! Everyone alright? Anita? Girls?” He twisted around to check out the women.

“What happened?” Laurie cried out.

“We crashed, dipstick!” answered her sister.

“Enough! You girls alright?” asked Anita. Both girls nodded they were all right. They were both crying quietly, more from reaction than from any real fear. It had been over too fast for them to do anything other than bounce and sway in the back. Anita felt sore where her shoulder had bounced off the side door but kept quiet. No use getting the girls any more worried, and it certainly wasn’t broken. Turning back to her husband, she asked, “What now?”

John began to shrug into his parka. “Now I go out to see how bad this is.” His efforts were hampered by the angle the car was at and by his seat belt. Turning off the engine, he braced his feet against the firewall, popped the buckle, and put it on. Zipping up, he put on his gloves. Grabbing the handle, he began pushing the door up and open. “Stay here!”

Scrambling out of the car, he had to push the door shut again. A metallic screech and thunk made him think the door was not going to be easy to open. He stepped back and looked at the vehicle.

‘Oh, shit.’, he thought, ‘This is bad.’ The car was wedged on a downed tree trunk. He hadn’t even noticed that the rear window had been smashed in by a tree limb during their descent. The skis loaded on the roof were now nothing but fiberglass and wood kindling. No skiing out of this mess. Looking back at the road, he shook his head and scrambled up the crash path. Once at the top, nothing greeted him but dark and gloomy snow. Carefully, he retraced his steps down to the car. Although he first tried to open the driver’s door, it was stuck, and he resorted to the rear door on his side. Inside, Cory and Laurie began pushing upwards. Thankfully, this door opened. The other side doors were blocked by a tree.

“John...?” started Anita.

“Okay, everyone. Get your parkas on. Open your suitcases and get out your snow pants. Put your boots and gloves on. We’re walking from here.”

Instantly, a confused babble of semi-hysterical cries rang out. “What?” “Can’t we wait here?” “We’ll get lost out there!” “Where do we go?”

After about the second or third set of questions, John simply held up his hands and yelled, “Enough! We’ve got to get going! Now get dressed. Come on, move it!” Grabbing a parka off the floor of the car, he thrust it at Cory. “Put it on!”

Galvanized, the women unbuckled and began to get dressed. Laurie turned around on the seat and began popping open the jumbled suitcases. The women stripped off their sneakers and slid on snowsuits and heavy boots. Grabbing their gloves and parkas, they scrambled out into the storm.

“Come on. Get dressed. You’ll freeze out here!” he said. John was trying to keep the feeling of panic out of his voice. Instinctively he knew if he didn’t keep his wits about him, they were all in deep trouble.

In some ways, the climb up to the road was the worst part of the trip out. He grabbed Laurie and pushed her forward, then took Cory’s hand and pulled her after him. “You bring up the rear!” he told Anita, and then began leading the small troop up the slope. Five minutes later, after several stumbles and falls, the little group was standing on the slushy roadway.

“Which way?” asked Anita, looking up and down the road. Predictably, the twins each pointed in a different direction.

John laughed, the first time he had laughed in hours. “This way,” he said pointing back at the direction they had come from, where Cory was pointing. “I saw some lights at what looked like a house about a mile back. We head there and throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.”

“Why not that away?” asked Laurie. “Maybe there’s a place right around the bend?”

“And maybe there isn’t,” said John. “We can’t go up and down the road in this storm all night. We head back to the house.”

“Come on, girls. Let’s follow Dad,” said Anita, ending the argument. She led the way back up the road.

What followed was a trek the girls would tell their grandchildren about. As the wet and sticky snow swirled around them, they trudged almost two and a half miles through the dark. Initially animated, the girls slowly quieted. Their heads began to bow, and their steps became shorter. John began to walk behind the trio, constantly urging the women on, faster and faster. They might not understand, but he certainly did, the dangers of exposure and hypothermia, and he wanted them warm as soon as possible. By the time they found the driveway, the four of them were soaked and freezing.

Trudging down the drive, they almost gave up hope at an iron gate, frozen shut, set in a low stone wall. Cory and Laurie began to silently whimper and cry, until John called out to them, “Over here, girls!” He was standing about twenty feet off to the side of the gate, where the stone wall ended. In a last burst of energy, they went around the wall and back to the driveway. Fifteen minutes later they were pounding on the front door.

***

The door opened smoothly but ponderously. A tall, bald, middle-aged man in a black suit stood in the doorway looking at them curiously. “Can I help you?” he asked, he asked in a heavy Boston accent.

“Let us in,” said John. “We’ve been in an accident and we’re freezing.” Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he pushed the girls and his wife past the man.

The guardian of the portal stepped aside. “Come in, come in.” He looked past them out into the storm. “This is terrible. Are you all right?”

Cory answered first. “We’re freezing!” she cried. All four of them stood in the foyer shivering.

“Good Lord! Get those coats off this instant!” He assisted Anita out of her drenched parka. Water pooled around their boots as the snow melted from the warmth of the house. Holding the parka in one hand, the man moved to the wall and touched an intercom button. “Doctor Jenson?”

A moment later, a thin metallic voice came from the speaker. “Yes, Reeves?”

“Doctor Jenson, we have some visitors. They’ve been stranded in this storm. I’ve brought them into the foyer.”

“Very good, Reeves. Make them comfortable and we’ll be down shortly,” said the tinny speaker.

“Thank you, sir.” The speaker clicked off, and Reeves turned to the Andrews family. “The Jenson’s will be down in a few minutes. Come now, let’s get those coats and whatnot off. They’re soaked!”

***

At that moment, Malcolm Jenson was sitting on a love seat in the master suite of the house. He was a slim and fit man in his early fifties and was presently naked. He set a cordless phone-like device back down on the table to his side and looked down between his legs. “Don’t stop, Jeanine, finish me off,” he said, and placed his hand on the back of her head.

Jeanine didn’t reply, or her actions were reply enough. She leaned back down and took the firm and substantial erection back into her mouth and resumed the interrupted fellatio she had been performing. She was dressed only in long, black fishnet stockings and black high heels

“Mmm, very nice,” said Malcolm, turning back towards the woman at his side. Kneeling on the cushions next to him, she had nothing on but a pullover sweater, which was pulled up and over her large breasts. She held a large and long double-ended dildo, which she was thrusting in and out of her shaved vagina in a vigorous fashion with both hands. Leaning over, Malcolm Jenson placed his lips over a distended nipple and began sucking and nibbling. A low moan escaped the woman’s lips.

The blow job Jeanine had been providing had been near its final climax when the intercom chimed. It was only moments later that she began suctioning the tip of the erect cock while rapidly jacking on the shaft. A loud grunt escaped the lips around the nipple as Jenson’s orgasm spewed into the kneeling girl’s mouth. She swallowed it all, finishing by licking the subsiding organ clean.

“Excellent, my dear,” said Malcolm, as she looked up into his eyes. “Now I must be going.” He stood and headed towards a large walk-in closet. “No, no, Caroline,” he said to the seated woman, as she moved to rise, the dildo still hanging in place like an obscene penis. “You can come down later if you wish. Perhaps you and Jeanine can enjoy yourselves if you want.” The two women looked at each other and smiled. Malcolm moved into the closet to dress.

Malcolm pulled on wool blend slacks, a silk dress shirt, and silk socks. He slipped on a pair of Italian loafers and pulled a navy blazer off a hanger. As he pulled it on and headed towards the bedroom door he smiled at the sight of Caroline and Jeanine writhing together on the floor, the dildo connecting them both.

Chapter 2 - Rescue!

The Andrews family had stripped off their parkas, snow pants, and boots by the time Malcolm made his way down the circular stairs to the foyer. “Good Lord!” he exclaimed, staring at their wet and haggard faces. “I had no idea you were in such bad shape. Please come in here!” Taking Cory by the arm, he gently pushed the group into the parlor. “You’re soaked! Get those sweaters off now,” he ordered. He waited a moment until John began pulling his sweatshirt off, then moved around behind the bar. Pulling four heavy snifters from an overhead rack, he turned and took a bottle of brandy off the mirrored shelf behind him. He poured four healthy shots into the rounded snifters and examined the group briefly. He liked what he saw.

The man, obviously husband and father to the women, was as tall as Malcolm was, and was well set up. He had a slim waist and thighs, but an impressive chest, and a full head of dark brown hair. He was clearly in charge of the group, scurrying around, encouraging his daughters out of their outer clothing. The two daughters, Malcolm was delighted to notice, were identical twins. It had been years since he had partaken of twins! Both were very slender and were of average height, perhaps five-six, six to seven inches shorter than their father. As they pulled their sweaters over their heads Malcolm couldn’t help but notice their wet rugby shirts plastered over their larger than average breasts. As they shivered, he could make out hints of erect nipples poking through their brassieres and pullovers. Both girls had auburn hair which hung to the middle of their backs.

It was Mom who truly impressed Malcolm. She was several inches shorter than her daughters, and standing there, teeth chattering, in an oversized cable-knit sweater she looked somewhat dumpy. At her husband’s insistence, she reached down, grabbed the hem of the overgarment, and pulled it up and over her head. ‘Be still my heart!’ thought Malcolm. Her well-worn jeans were soaked and appeared painted on to her nicely rounded derriere. Under the sweater, she had on only a thin white tee-shirt, which as she pulled the sweater over her head, rode upwards, showing a considerable expanse of trim, flat stomach. Handing her sweater to her husband she pulled her shirt back into place and turned to face Malcolm. Large mammaries were quite evident beneath the thin wet fabric, restrained only by a deeply cut, lacy white bra. Her hair was cut short, curling in a perm to just above her shoulders, and was a brighter shade of red than her daughters.

Malcolm’s mind was made up. He knew he had to have this woman and her daughters. And Caroline was sure to enjoy the man. Reaching under the overhanging bar top, he pulled a small, stoppered vial towards him. Making sure no one could see him he removed the top. Taking an eye dropper and filling it from the first vial, he placed a single drop in each of the snifters.

“Drink up. Doctor’s orders,” said Malcolm. The man downed his in a single gulp, his wife finished hers in two, but both girls sipped at theirs and began to cough. When one of the daughters moved to set her snifter back on the bar, he said, “No, no! Down the hatch. I think you need a good dose of medicinal brandy.” The girl doubtfully picked her glass up and the pair began to slowly sip the heavy brown liquor. Malcolm continued to light-heartedly wheedle them as they choked down the burning fluid. “Definite prescription here...yes...that’s right...I’m a professional...all of it...”

Just then Caroline Jenson strode into the room from the foyer. She was a tall woman, and slim, although heavily breasted, with dark brown hair. “Good heavens, Malcolm! We need to do more than just give them brandy. These children are freezing!” she exclaimed. “Come with me. We’ve got to warm you up immediately.” Stepping between Cory and Laurie, she gracefully but rapidly moved them back to the foyer and towards the circular stairs.

“Caroline’s right, of course,” said Malcolm. “Please, come with us.” Throughout this time the family had been silent, and he was beginning to worry about shock. Climbing the stairs and moving down the wide hallway, Malcolm continuously was turning back to make sure he was being followed.

Halfway down the hall, Caroline stopped and opened a door. Gently pushing the girls inwards, she led them through a large bedroom and on into the connecting bath. The twins simply stood there shivering as she turned on the shower, full force and hot, and only became animated after she pushed them towards the open door. They struggled to separate and looked around them wildly until the tall woman spoke up. “Both of you get under the water now! We have no way to treat you for pneumonia, and that is precisely what you will come down with if we don’t warm you up! Now get in there this instant!”

John Andrews came out of his trance at this forceful demand. “Do it girls. Right now. Get in there and strip off those clothes.” Turning to Caroline, he said, “Thank you. I should have thought of that.”

“Not to worry. The same goes for you. Malcolm! Take the...I don’t even know your names!”

“Oh, sorry,” said Anita. “We’re the Andrews. That’s Cory and Laurie, and this is John, and I’m Anita.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Caroline turned to her husband and said, “Malcolm, take Mr. and Mrs. Andrews across the hall and stuff them in the shower, too.” Turning back to Anita and John, she said, “Please, they’ll be all right. I’ll find them something to wear, and then find something for you two. Now go, go.” Malcolm led the pair from the room.

Once she was alone with the girls, she turned to look at them through the clear glass of the shower door. By now the two had stripped off their shirts and bras and were working on their khaki pants. She watched them briefly before they became aware of her, and then they modestly tried to cover the half nudity. ‘Delectable!’ thought Caroline. “Well, don’t just stand there! Everything off. When you’re ready to come out, just leave your clothes in the shower. Jeanine will take care of things. I’ll hang some bathrobes in here, and then find you some clothes. I think mine should fit you, although they might be a bit large. Stay in there until you feel warm.” She smiled warmly at the girls and left.

She met Malcolm in the hallway, coming out of the room opposite. “They should be all right,” he said. “I left two of Jerry’s bathrobes in with them and said we’d find some clothes for them.”

“Good,” said Caroline. “I was just about to do the same for the girls.”

“John looks to be about my size. I’ll put a few things in there for him and let him decide what to wear,” said Malcolm.

“Excellent, dear. The twins look like they should fit into some of my things.” She laid her hand on her husband’s forearm and grinned. “They look delicious, darling! You didn’t, by chance, put something in that brandy, did you?”

“Caroline, how could you ask such a thing?” asked Malcolm, chuckling. “Just a half dose, a single drop each. And you are right, the woman and her daughters are exquisite.”

“He’s simply dreamy, too,” she replied.

“What about clothes for her, Anita, I think her name was? I’m not sure she’ll fit into your underwear.”

“Underwear just gets in the way, darling.”

Malcolm smiled. “Now dear, remember, I only used a half dose. I’m sure that she’ll want something under her clothes.”

“Yes, but perhaps I can find something a bit too tight. She does look to be at least a cup size larger than me. Oh well, I can always hope.”

The pair moved down the hall to their suite at the far end. In short order, Malcolm had pulled several pairs of slacks, shirts, underwear, socks, and blazers from his closet. “Hmm. I’m not sure about shoes. Well, if mine don’t fit, we can try a pair of Jerrys’, and if that doesn’t work, he can walk around in stocking feet for all I care.”

He looked over at his wife, sorting through a lingerie drawer, pulling out several lacy brassieres and panties. She turned to him. “Malcolm, why don’t you go downstairs and tell Phoebe to set a late supper for our guests. And make sure to tell her to wear ‘Uniform B’ until we specify otherwise, alright? I’ve already told Jeanine so.”

“Certainly, dear. Here, you can deliver these.”

***

John luxuriated under the endless stream of hot water. During the final minutes of their hike, before he saw the house lights, he hadn’t been sure if he was leading his family to safety or disaster. He had only been sure that he was never going to be warm again. Now he simply held onto his wife, sharing the warmth of the water and of each other.

As his hands moved over her wet and naked back, he could feel her nipples harden and press into his abdomen. He looked down at her. Her eyes were shut tightly, her hair plastered against her skull, her white buttocks smooth and inviting. He felt his manhood begin to harden and rise against her smooth belly. In short order, his full nine-inch length and two-inch girth was pressed against her stomach. Although their difference in heights almost always precluded standing sex, John knew he wanted to take her, then and there. He lowered his hands to the rounded globes of her ass and pulled her towards him.

Anita’s eyes opened wide. “No, John. We can’t. Not now, not like this,” she said quietly. She pushed herself away from him.

“Why not now, like this?” he asked with a smile, pulling her back against his chest.

“Please John! What if someone comes in? What about the girls?”

The mention of his daughters reduced his ardor. He stepped away from his wife and opened the door. “You’re right. Time to get dressed.”

“Give me a moment,” she said, grabbing the shampoo. “I need to wash my hair.”

He closed the door and dried himself off with a large towel. As he reached for a bathrobe, he noticed clothing set out on the bed. Hanging the robe up again, he finished drying off and walked naked to the bed. Looking the clothes over, he realized that his benefactors were more formal than he was used to. One dressed for a rescue. He was about finished when his wife came out of the bathroom, wrapped in an oversized robe, toweling her hair dry.

“Does anything fit?” she asked.

“Pants are okay. Shirts aren’t quite right,” he replied. “They come in two sizes. Either too small in the collar or designed by Omar the tentmaker.”

“So, don’t button the collar.”

“I won’t.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. John moved to open it, as Anita wrapped the robe around herself tightly. He opened the door to find Caroline standing there.

“Hello,” she said. “I hope you’re feeling better,” she asked.

“Please, come in. We’re fine. You’re lifesavers, literally. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t found this place,” said John, stepping aside and waving her inside.

Caroline stepped into the room. She was dressed quite stylishly in a Kelly-green cowl neck sweater and a tight calf-length black velvet skirt. John noticed that the skirt was slit several inches above her knees in the front, and that in her three-inch heels she was almost as tall as he was. Also, she didn’t seem anywhere near as old as her husband. “Thank you. It’s nothing, really. This is the most excitement we’ve had in a while.” She held out her hand to John. “Welcome to Belle Ayre. I’m Caroline Jenson. You’ve already met my husband, Malcolm.”

John took her hand and was pleased to see it was a firm grip. “Thanks. I’m John Andrews.”

“I’m Anita,” said John’s wife, rising and coming to the door.

“Hello. Welcome to Belle Ayre.” She looked back at John. “Oh, dear. We were hoping the clothes would fit you, but I don’t think they do.”

John simply smiled. “We were just saying that. The pants are fine, but the shirts are either too tight in the neck or much too big.”

“Yes,” said Caroline. “I thought that might be a problem. The pants and the tight necks are Malcolm’s. The baggy shirts are Jerry’s.”

“Jerry?” asked Anita.

“Malcolm’s son. He’s away at college at the moment. I swear, I have to have his clothes made by Omar the Tentmaker.”

“Big boy, huh?” remarked John.

Anita remarked, “Well, I have to get John’s shirts from a big men’s catalog.”

“I can well imagine,” said Caroline, smiling warmly at John.

John felt warm and uncomfortable at Caroline’s smile, as he felt a stirring in his groin. ‘This is a good-looking woman!’ he thought to himself. Turning away, he said to his wife, “I’d better go check on the girls.” He turned towards the open door.

“No, wait,” said Caroline. “I just looked in on them. They’re fine. Cory and Laurie are dressing right now. I’m sure they’ll be out in a few minutes.” She turned back to Anita. “And your clothes? Will they be satisfactory?”

“I haven’t even had a chance to look. I just got out of the shower myself. Let’s see...” Anita looked down at the clothing spread out on the bed. “This is beautiful, all of it!” she exclaimed.

“Thank you,” said Caroline. “I do like to wear nice things for Malcolm.” She sat down on the bed next across from Anita and held up a cream-colored cashmere cardigan. “This would look lovely on you.”

Anita nodded agreement and looked back at the bed as John looked on. Then her brow wrinkled, and she picked up a single stocking. “Stockings? Not pantyhose?”

Caroline blushed. “You’ll have to excuse that. I’m afraid I don’t wear pantyhose.”

“Not at all?” asked Anita incredulously. “Really?”

“Really. Malcolm is a dear, but he has rather singular tastes in ladies’ lingerie.” She held up a rather transparent panty and demi-bra set. “Utilitarian is not a word Malcolm would use to describe what he wants me to wear underneath things. He insists on buying for me.”

Now it was John’s turn to blush. Stammering, he excused himself and turned towards the open door. Caroline laughed lightly. “Go downstairs. We’ll be down shortly with the girls. I’m sure Malcolm can fix you a drink.” John blushed again and left, closing the door behind him.

Anita looked over at Caroline. “What about the girls? They’ve never worn stockings before.”

“They loved the idea. They think it makes them so much more mature. The MTV Generation, I suspect.”

“I don’t think we have to tell John that,” commented Anita.

Chapter 3 - Drinks Before Dinner

John moved down the hallway to the stairs and down to the foyer. Their clothing was now gone, and a young blonde girl was on her knees, mopping up the melted snow. As his feet moved into her line of view, she let out a small “Oooh!” and stood up. “Excuse me, sir, I didn’t hear you.” She dropped the sponge she held into the pail at her feet. Grabbing the sides of her skirt, she dipped slightly and curtsied. “Welcome to Belle Ayre, sir.”

John Andrews had about as much experience with servants as he did with the back side of the moon. “Uh, hello. Uh, thank you. Can I help you with that?”

“Oh, no sir, that wouldn’t be right. I’m almost done anyway, Mr. Andrews.”

“You know my name?”

“Oh, yes sir. Mrs. Jenson told me to take care of things.” The girl curtsied a second time. “I’m Jeanine, sir, the maid. If you need anything, just ask.”

“Thank you, Jeanine. Uh, call me John.”

“Oh, no sir. I couldn’t do that.”

John was saved from a fruitless argument by Malcolm coming in from the large room opposite the parlor. “Thank you, Jeanine,” he said. Turning back to John, he said, “Come on. Let’s make you another drink,” and led the way into the parlor. Jeanine curtsied silently and knelt again, to finish the floor. John glanced at her briefly and followed Malcolm. ‘Pretty girl.’ he thought to himself.

Jeanine looked back over her shoulder as John walked away. She felt like telling him she could use some help, and not with the mopping either, but ‘Uniform B’ precluded that idea. ‘Uniform B’ was the code word that meant visitors were not, as yet, intimate members of the household. Thus, Jeanine and Phoebe were required to depart from their customary mode of dress.

Jeanine was short, only five-foot-three, with short blonde hair in a pageboy cut, and in her early twenties. Presently she wore a black, knee-length, cotton blend dress, with plain black stockings and low-heeled pumps. The bodice had a conservative neckline, and she wore a white blouse underneath, with a small white apron. This looked differed from her usual attire only in its conservative nature, not in its overall look. Typically, the dress was an extremely short black satin number with a flared skirt and a very low cut, U-shaped neckline. No blouse was worn, and her breasts and cleavage were on conspicuous display, almost to the tops of her pert nipples. In addition, the black stockings were replaced by black fishnets (thigh high in either case), and the low heels by much nicer four-inch heels.

Of course, Jeanine reflected, she didn’t wear underwear with either outfit. The conservative garb molded and lifted her C cup breasts nicely and hid her pussy completely. When not in ‘Uniform B’ she didn’t want her tits and pussy hid at all! And occasionally a guest would attract her even in ‘Uniform B’ and she would simply raise her skirt to accommodate him.

In the parlor, John settled onto a bar stool as Malcolm walked behind the bar. “I have no idea how to thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t found this place,” he said to Malcolm.

Malcolm waved a hand lightly, brushing aside the concerns. “Please, it’s no trouble at all. Most fun we’ve had here in years. Can I get you something to drink? Another brandy, perhaps?”

“Thank you, no. Do you have any tonic water?” asked John. At Malcolm’s nod, he continued, “Could I have a gin and tonic, please?”

“Certainly.” Malcolm prepared the drink and set it on a coaster before John. “What about your wife? What would she like? Caroline and I prefer a martini before dining.”

“Anita loves a good martini. I can’t touch them personally, and she hates to make one for herself, but I know she’ll want one.”

“Excellent,” said Malcolm. “I’ll make a pitcher. Do your daughters drink or are they still too young?”

“Not for a few more years, yet,” said John, smiling. “Perhaps when they turn forty, I’ll think about it.”

Malcolm laughed. “We never had any daughters, but my friends with daughters, they all tell me the same sort of thing. Do you plan on ever letting them out of the house?”

“Not while I’m alive,” replied a grinning John.

“Daddy, you’re awful!” shrieked Cory. Coming up behind her father and wrapping her arms around his waist. She looked over his shoulder at Malcolm. “We’ve been dating since we turned sixteen!”

“Easily changed.”

“Daddy!” protested Laurie.

Malcolm laughed wholeheartedly as the Andrews family was reunited in the parlor. “Now, you must tell me. I know your names are Cory and Laurie, but who’s who? I can’t tell you apart!”

“I’m Cory,” said the first girl.

“And I’m Laurie,” said the other.

“You’re absolutely identical,” remarked Malcolm. “Hmmm, blue, Cory, red, Laurie,” he said, pointing at their outfits.

John noticed for the first time what the girls had dressed in. Laurie, the more extroverted twin, had put on a tight red knit mini dress. Her slightly more conservative sister was wearing a light blue wrap dress, cinched closely around her waist. Both were wearing stockings and matching three-inch heels.

“These clothes are great! Don’t you like them, Dad!” exclaimed Laurie. She pirouetted before him, tripping at the end in the unfamiliarly high heels. “Oops. Not quite used to these yet.”

“Go barefoot,” said her father, holding up one foot. None of the shoes available had come even close to fitting him. John Andrews was shocked at the sight of his daughters. He knew they were growing up, but these outfits were proof to the world that his little girls were now young women. Despite what he had heard Caroline say about her husband’s taste in clothes, there should have been something more suitable to wear. But before he could say anything, he looked in his babies’ eyes and saw the delight they felt in dressing so maturely. He’d talk it over with Anita later.

“John, shouldn’t you greet your wife, too,” asked Caroline.

John turned around and was almost speechless. Anita was wearing the cream cardigan and a black silk wrap skirt, with very sheer beige stockings and four-inch-high ‘fuck-me’ pumps. The sweater veed low between her breasts, showing more than a few of her considerable freckles, and the skirt was well above her knees. She had brushed out the remains of her perm so her bright red hair curled down to her shoulders. The only thing wrong he could see was the definite outlines of Caroline’s bra and panties cutting into her back and bottom. Anita was more endowed than her hostess. Well, he had always liked her figure. “You look great, hun!” he said.

“Indeed, Anita,” commented Malcolm. “Would you like a martini?” he asked.

“I’d kill for a martini, thank you.” Anita settled onto a bar stool next to her husband as the girls wandered into the foyer. “Don’t go too far girls,” she called after them.

“Let them go,” said Malcolm. “They just want to explore. They’ll be fine.”

“Well, okay,” said Anita. “But don’t touch anything!” she told them.

“We won’t,” said Cory. Laurie led the way, and John was both pleased and disturbed to note that both girls seemed to be getting the hang of walking in high heels. They both looked much better to him than daughters should look to a father.

Looking back at his wife, he saw she had crossed her legs, and the skirt was showing quite a bit more thigh than Anita normally showed. “You look lovely, dear. Where’d you get the earrings?” he asked, noticing the large gold loops hanging from her lobes.

“Caroline loaned me some jewelry. You like?”

“Very much. But this is simply too much,” said John, turning back to Caroline, now seated on his other side, and to Malcolm. “You’ve been far too generous with us,” he protested.

Anita relaxed when her husband hadn’t complained about the clothing she and the girls were wearing. Normally John was strict about what the twins could wear. Both girls’ outfits were considerably shorter and more form fitting than he felt comfortable with. Her own outfit wasn’t much better. The sweater clung tighter and dipped lower than she normally wore, at least when the girls were around. Not, now that she thought about it, what John preferred when they were away by themselves. He didn’t mind a little skin showing then. Actually, a lot of skin. The cardigan had a matching skirt that she had tried on. It had been much too short and tight to wear around her daughters, although she knew John would have liked it if they had been alone. The silk wrap skirt was somewhat longer, but her legs tended to show through the side slit where it came together. And, as she tried to pull the hem down, it had very little stretch to it. To be honest, the only really bad items were the underwear. Simply put, both the bra and panties were at least a size too small. She expected to hear a ripping sound momentarily. Anita turned back to the conversation.

“Anita, I was just telling your husband, tomorrow, after the storm lets up, we’ll go back to your car and retrieve your belongings. Then you’ll be all set until your car is pulled out of the ditch.”

“Relax, John,” said Anita, drinking at her martini. She put her hand on his forearm. “It’s only a loan, not a gift. Malcolm, this is ambrosia.”

John smiled as Malcolm refreshed his wife’s glass. “You win. I must look pretty ungrateful complaining about receiving too much care and help. I apologize.”

“Nothing to apologize for. Here, let me make you another drink. Then Caroline and I can show you around Belle Ayre, we can find the girls, and have a late supper. All right?”

Chapter 4 - Dinner

Anita thought the term ‘Great Room’ really didn’t apply to the dining and living rooms. It was larger than their entire first floor back home and lofted up to the second story to a cathedral ceiling. A stone fireplace dominated one wall of the room. The parlor was much cozier, being off the foyer to one side. An interesting feature, she thought, was the bar against the front of the parlor, which had a walk-thru to another bar on the back wall of the Great Room.

Cory and Laurie were awed by their surroundings. The most common words out of their mouths, once they started exploring were “Wowww!” spoken to each other, and “You gotta see this!” once they were joined by their parents.

Once they had come into the Great Room, Malcolm had announced it was time for some supper. “I know that you’re probably quite tired, but I must insist. You’ve had quite a close call with exposure, the doctor prescribes some soup.” He nodded at Reeves, standing near him, and the butler left towards the kitchen. “Now, John, you take that end of the table, and I will take this end. These lovely ladies will flank me, and our beautiful wives will flank you.” He stepped to the side and pulled a chair out next to his head of the table. Laurie moved faster than her sister and plopped down in it. Her eyes sparkled as Malcolm pushed her into place. “Well, that seems to be settled,” he commented, and helped Cory to a seat facing her twin.

“Do you normally dine this late?” asked Anita. An ornate grandfather clock in the corner showed that it was almost nine-thirty.

“Hardly,” said Caroline. “But Malcolm is right. You must get some nourishment, and it would hardly be fitting to simply send you off to the scullery to see what you can find.”

“Soup is definitely called for,” finished Malcolm. “It’s quick, it’s simple, easily digested, full of vitamins, protein, and all those good things the people at Campbell’s have been telling us about. I asked Phoebe, she’s our cook, you see, to warm up something she made the other day.”

Just then, a swinging door opened, and Reeves stepped through holding a crystal pitcher of ice water. He held the door for a small and dumpy woman carrying a large tureen. She set it with a surly manner in the center of the table before Malcolm, removed the lid, and then retired, muttering. Steam rose from the surface of the dark brown liquid within. Reeves moved around the table, filling water goblets.

“You’ll have to excuse Phoebe’s moods,” said Caroline. “She may be a bit of a grump, but she makes up for it in the kitchen.”

“It smells delicious,” said Anita. Suddenly, the foursome forgot their fatigues. It had been hours since they had last eaten, and they now realized they were famished. The mood was broken when Phoebe slammed back into the room with a large basket of warm and freshly baked bread and a dish of butter. She unceremoniously dropped these on the table and stormed out again.

“Yes, but still,” said Malcolm looking behind him as the door swung shut. “Reeves, perhaps you can calm her down some. And bring the wine, won’t you? Thank you.” Turning back to the amused group before him, he picked up a ladle and announced, “Beef and barley. Caroline, can you pass the bread? I think I could do with a bowl, also.”

To himself, Malcolm thought of a different reason he was smiling. Far from being grumpy, Phoebe was acting. When ‘Uniform B’ was announced, she went out of her way to change into something ugly, frumpy, and mean. Tonight, she wore a shapeless white cafeteria uniform with an oversized apron. Her hair was done up in a bun on top of her head. She wore opaque white stockings, and what Malcolm had to believe were the most hideous white orthopedic shoes ever created. All she needed now was a hair net and she would be the perfect high school ‘lunch lady’. Previous efforts had included takeoffs on Hazel and Alice from TV fame, and a truly wretched Russian babushka. He dreaded to think what her next creation would involve. He knew Phoebe to be the most exotic creature in the household. Barely five-foot-tall, she had a nineteen-inch wasp-waist, a large firm ass, wide hips, and soft and delicious DD cup breasts. In addition, she would gleefully take on anyone, any man, any woman, any time, any place, any orifice. And creative? Just two weeks ago, Reeves had announced that dessert would be in the small parlor. He and Caroline had gone there to find Phoebe lying naked on the coffee table, her generous breasts and bare shaved pudenda liberally covered in whipped cream. They had dined well that evening, to be sure.

At first, the meal was silent, as the Andrews dug with gusto into their soup. But while Malcolm was refilling Laurie’s bowl, she asked him, “Did you build this place yourself?”

He handed back her bowl. “If you mean, did I personally build it, then no, I didn’t. The last hammer I held was a bone hammer, some twenty-odd years ago. If you mean, did I order it built, then again, I must say no. I bought it and had it added on to.”

Cory piped up, “What’s a bone hammer?” then drained her wine glass. When Reeves had brought back the wine, she and Laurie had noticed that in addition to their water goblets, they had matching wine glasses. Malcolm had asked their mother if they could have some. She had relented to the extent of a single glass apiece.

“Hmm, what’s that Cory?” said Malcolm turning to her. Seeing her empty glass, he naturally refilled it.

“Cory, I said one glass only,” said Anita.

“Oh, dear, my mistake Anita,” said Malcolm contritely. “Old habit I’m afraid.”

“Please, Mom, can’t we have just one more glass?” pleaded Cory.

“Please Mom?” chimed in her sister.

“If I might say, Anita, it’s not like you’re going anywhere in the morning,” said Caroline.

Anita rolled her eyes to the ceiling. The glass had already been poured, after all. “All right, but only one more.”

“Great!” said Laurie. She drained her own glass and held it out for seconds. Malcolm chuckled as he refilled her glass as well. “So, what’s a bone hammer?”

“Oh, yes. A bone hammer is a hammer, oh, about yay long, or so,” he replied, estimating the distance with his hands. “that an orthopedic surgeon uses to chip and break bones.”

“Are you really a doctor?” asked Cory.

“Sort of.”

“Well, you are, or you aren’t. Which is it?” she pressed.

“Well, I have an MD degree from Stanford, so that makes me a doctor. But before you can get your license to practice medicine you have to complete an internship and a residency. I went into biochemical research instead. It’s sort of like a Ph.D., actually. I’m no more a doctor than a doctor of biology or chemistry, really.”

At the other end of the table, a separate conversation was going on. Caroline looked at John and said, “Now, I understand how your car went off the road and you ended up here, but what in the world were you doing on this road to begin with?”

John and Anita explained how they had gotten off the highway after the accident and had been trying to get back on at a later exit.

“Yes, of course. But this road doesn’t lead to the highway.”

“It doesn’t?” said John.

“Well, no. This simply peters out into a logging road about ten miles down. I’m sure it’s closed this time of year. The main turnoff is twenty miles back.”

Anita’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “We might have died if we had gone the other way!” Her outburst startled the girls into silence as they stared at her wide-eyed. John simply shrugged phlegmatically.

“Guess I got lost,” he said.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” interjected Malcolm. “John, were you by any chance a Boy Scout?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered.

“Did you earn your Eagle?”

“Yes, I did. It shows?”

“It shows. The lessons of youth stay with one forever.”

“You, too?” asked John, curious where this was leading.

“Yes, but I never made it past First Class. Too interested in goofing off, I suppose. Still, I knew a few Eagles. Answer me honestly, John. You could have survived, couldn’t you?” asked Malcolm, looking John straight in the eyes, all levity gone.

John sat upright silently, then settled back into his chair. He picked up his wine glass and drained it before answering. “Yeah, I could have survived. Hate to have to try it, though.”

“Precisely. If you could survive, your family would survive. You might all end up in the hospital, but you’d survive. You could have found shelter or built one, and you could build a fire. Food might be a problem, but maybe not, either.”

“Still, Malcolm, they were lucky. What if they had been coming through two weeks from now? We’d be in the Keys by then,” asked Caroline.

“What of it? We already know they were coming here. If the place was cold and dark, John, wouldn’t you have forced the door? Started a fire in the fireplace? Found dry clothes? Called for help?”

John simply shrugged. “You do what you have to do.”

Malcolm stood and raised his glass of wine. “Ladies, a toast. Throughout my life, I have read stories of heroes. Soldiers, firemen, police officers, everyday citizens who have done something heroic, to save the lives of those around them. The most common comment they make is that they did what they had to do. Ladies, I give you the hero of the hour, John Andrews!”

John was most uncomfortable as the group all responded, “John Andrews!” and sipped their wine. Still, the looks of awe and respect his wife and daughters gave him warmed him mightily. Suddenly, Cory and Laurie were seeing him in a whole new light. Standing himself, he raised his glass. Cory and Laurie both burst out laughing. “Speech! Speech!” they cried. He waved them quiet.

“To the true heroes, the people who took us in, Caroline and Malcolm Jenson.”

“Hear, hear,” said Anita, also rising. The twins stood also, and the six people finished their wine.

As they sat down, Cory wobbled on her heels and sat awkwardly on her chair. “I guess I am kinda tired,” she said.

“I think it’s getting late for you two,” said Anita. “Come on. I think it’s bedtime for both of you. It’s been a long day.”

Just then the lights went out. “Girls, I think you had better stay here a moment. I’m sure we’ll have some lights in a moment,” said Malcolm. To the side, they could hear Reeves fumbling in some drawers in the pitch blackness.

After about two minutes, the lights came on again. Reeves closed the drawer he was looking in and opened another. The lights went out a second time. Reeves lit a match. “This always happens,” he commented. He reached over Laurie’s head and lit the candles on the centerpiece. “This should do for the moment.” He struck a second match and lit a wall lantern behind him.

“I do apologize for this,” said Malcolm. “I’m sure that Tony will have the generator up in a moment.”

“Tony?” asked Anita.

“Tony is our handyman, groundskeeper, odd-job man,” replied Caroline. “He’s simply a wizard at these sorts of things. Malcolm and Reeves are much too cerebral to handle something that Tony says is so simple.” She laughed lightly at Reeves quiet grunt.

Within two minutes, a light appeared under the door leading to the kitchen. Still no light came on in the Great Room or elsewhere in the household. Shortly thereafter a young man came through the kitchen door carrying a large, multi-cell flashlight.

“Sorry about the delay. The generator’s up and running,” he announced.

“But the lights are still out!” replied Cory. She liked Tony’s looks. He was about her height, but much bigger. He was very stocky and quite a bit of chest hair protruded from his shirt collar. He was in clean but worn khaki pants and shirt, which had the top two buttons undone. Over this he had on a heavy winter coat and wore cowboy boots. His dark hair hung neatly to his shoulders.

“Yeah,” commented her sister. Laurie was equally taken with Tony and didn’t want him to miss her for Cory.

“No, it’s going,” he said. “The problem is that the generator isn’t quite big enough to handle the whole load of the house. The breakers trip unless I shut down the lights in most of the place. I’ve got it feeding the utilities and the kitchen only.”

“Tony, I know we’ve asked you before, but can’t we do something about that?” asked Malcolm.

Tony turned to face Malcolm. “Sure boss. All I need is enough zeros on the check. Either we buy a second generator, replace the first with a larger unit, or redo the wiring to allow computerized control. And I’m not sure new wiring would completely handle the job.” He shrugged. “Considering the frequency that this occurs, how much is it worth to you?”

“Does the power go out often?” asked John of Malcolm.

“That’s the rub,” commented their host. “It really doesn’t happen often enough to justify the changes.” He turned to Tony. “Well, get out the lanterns and candles.”

“Right, Doctor Jenson.” Tony left the room.

Turning to the Andrews family, Malcolm continued. “Well, we may not have lights or TV, but the heat and hot water will be fine, and the kitchen won’t be hurt. I’m sure that the lines will be fixed in a day or two.”

The group made small talk about the weather for another five minutes until Tony returned, carrying several kerosene lanterns and a couple of candles. He set them on the sideboard and left.

Chapter 5 - Rest and Relaxation

Tony wandered into the kitchen and leaned back against a counter, watching Phoebe clean up. “Jesus, Phoebe, that getup is absolutely hideous,” he said.

“Why, thank you, Tony,” she said, smiling. “So, what do you think of our guests?” she asked.

“Yeah, have you met them yet?” asked Jeanine, entering from a rear door.

“Just to say hello. I had to run some lanterns and candles in there,” he replied, turning to face Jeanine, and pointing his thumb over his shoulder back at the Great Room. “They get stuck in the snow or something?”

“Ran off the road, apparently,” said Jeanine.

“Well, the women are sure lookers. Did the boss spike their drinks?” The two girls were absolutely classic beauties, perfectly proportioned, but their mother, the woman with the really great set of hooters, now she was a real prize, even if she was older than he was.

“What do you think? I hope it takes effect by tomorrow. He looks cute,” said Jeanine. “I wouldn’t mind getting out of this awful ‘Uniform B’“.

“Well, that’s easily arranged,” offered the handyman, reaching for the maid.

“What, here, in the kitchen?” she laughed back at him.

“Like you’ve never done it in the kitchen?” he came back. He began to unzip his pants.

“What if someone opens the door?” she protested.

“Go in the pantry, you two. No one will be touring there,” interjected Phoebe, chuckling.

“Great!” said Tony. Taking Jeanine by the arm, he steered her towards a small side room. By the time they were inside and towards the back, his massive cock protruded from his pants. It was so big that when fully erect it managed no more than a ninety-degree angle. He pushed her down to her knees and waved its stiffness in her face.

“Well,” she commented, “nothing like a late-night snack!” Jeanine opened her mouth wide and swallowed the hot and spicy sausage whole. This was no mean feat, as Tony erect was eight inches long, and so thick that she had a difficult time wrapping her hand around it. Still, she had practiced on him more than frequently. After only a few minutes deep throating him, she could feel his body tense in preparation for ejaculation. Cupping his huge nuts in her hands, Jeanine squeezed gently, and Tony exploded into her mouth. Almost all his cum flowed straight down her throat, but there was simply so much that she gagged slightly, allowing some to dribble down her chin and onto her blouse.

Jeanine licked her lips and stood upright. Looking down at the mess on her front, she commented, “I hope they don’t need anything else tonight.”

“I’ll cover for you,” said Phoebe from the doorway where she had been watching the pair. “You two can turn in if you want.” Her dress was bunched in one hand at her waist, while the fingers of the other hand probed her puffy and moist pudenda.

Tony simply grinned and pushed Jeanine towards the door. “Thanks a lot.” By the time they had gone out the back way, he had already worked the zipper on Jeanine’s outfit down to her waist.

***

“Well, here’s a lantern. Come on girls,” said Anita.

“Aw, Mom!” protested Laurie, but more as a pro forma complaint than a real one. Her heart wasn’t in it, and she meekly followed her mother and sister. She, too, stumbled at the doorway.

As they three stepped into the doorway, Malcolm said loudly, “Anita, girls, no wake-up call tomorrow. Just get up when you want to.” The twins waved and left.

“Such charming girls,” said Caroline.

“Drunk, too,” replied John.

Anita led the girls to the room they were to share, across the hall from what was hers and John’s. Caroline had said that Jeanine would lay out some night clothes for them, and she was somewhat concerned. What with Malcolm’s apparent taste in women’s clothing, she rather doubted any pajamas were to be found in the house. She relaxed when she saw several silk chemises on each of the queen-size beds in the room.

Laurie headed for the bathroom as Cory sank into the heavy comforter on her bed. “Oooh. This is pretty!” she said, running her hands over one of the chemises. “We need to be rescued more often.”

Anita laughed. “Yeah? Well don’t plan on a repeat. Listen, you two girls get changed. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to find the little Mommy’s room.” She went back into the hall and closed the door behind her.

Anita went into her own room. Several nightgowns were laid out on their bed as well, but these were mostly transparent lace, much more sophisticated than what the girls would wear. ‘Maybe later’, she thought to herself as she went through to the bathroom. Once inside, she unwrapped the skirt and pushed off the tight panties. The relief she felt at their removal was even greater than the relief she gained sitting on the toilet.

‘The hell with it!’ she thought. ‘Nobody here but us chickens.’ After wiping herself, she stood and removed the sweater and the bra. Caroline’s undies had left deep red marks in her back, shoulders, and hips. At least the rest of the outfit fit her well enough. She tugged the tops of the thigh-high stockings a touch higher, then put the cardigan and skirt on again. Caroline’s clothing fit the girls quite nicely, even if pants or long sleeves might be too long. And what with Caroline’s longer legs, her stockings came all the way up to Anita’s crotch. And praise be to God, they all wore the same shoe size! Anita touched up her makeup and hair in the mirror, then went back to her daughter’s room. Knocking, she entered.

Laurie was turning down the sheets on her bed as Cory came out of the bathroom. Both had changed into one of the silk slips. Laurie, ever adventurous, had chosen a multicolored chemise, very short and with the sides slit to the hips. Cory’s wasn’t quite as extreme but did show an awful lot of her shoulders and breasts, being held up by the tiniest of straps. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’, thought Anita, as she kissed the twins good night. She blew out the lantern as she closed the door on them.

***

John, Caroline, and Malcolm had retired to the parlor after Anita had taken the girls upstairs. When Anita returned, she found John sitting at one end of a couch, holding a sherry in his hand. She sat down next to him and took the drink from him. She sipped it, then leaned back into the arm he placed around her back. Across from them, Caroline was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, while her husband sat on one of the arms. He stood and went to the bar, where he poured a fourth sherry and handed it to Anita.

“Girls alright?”

“Fine, just tired. It’s been quite a day. I’m a little beat myself.”

“Well, Anita, if you want, go lie down yourself,” said Caroline.

“No, that’s all right. I’ll be fine. Please.” Anita settled back into the protection of her husband’s arm.

John idly rubbed his wife’s shoulder for a moment before he realized no bra strap interrupted his fingers. He shifted his arm slightly and ran his fingers down her back to confirm this. Anita looked at him and smiled. Leaning into him, she whispered into his ear, “I took it off. It was killing me.”

“What about...” he began to ask.

“Them, too.” They smiled at each other, and then she whispered. “Play your cards right, hero, and maybe you’ll get a hero’s reward later.” She snuggled into his side and stretched her legs out.

John wasn’t the only person in the room to notice Anita’s change. Both Caroline and Malcolm had noticed a pronounced sway to her breasts as she had entered the room and were delighted at this. Caroline, seated in front of John and Anita, had a straight shot view up the front of Anita’s skirt to her trim, red pubic hairs. Caroline felt herself moisten at the sight and tried to maneuver her legs so that John could see her naked and shaved pussy.

Anita listened quietly as the other three talked about the origins of the house. She finished her sherry and set it on the coffee table, then snuggled back against John. Finally, her eyes closed, and her head sank down into his lap. She never even noticed the raging erection she was sleeping on.

John smiled at his hosts. “I suppose I should get Sleeping Beauty to bed.”

“Of course,” said Malcolm. “But finish your drink first. This is excellent sherry.”

“John, she’ll never notice,” added Caroline.

The three continued their conversation for another half an hour. John kept continuously glancing down at his wife’s sleeping form. With her legs stretched out, the slit where the skirt wrapped around her gaped wide. Her thighs were exposed to the lace top of the stockings began. John was tremendously turned on by his wife’s unknowing exposure. When John set down his glass, he shifted enough to rouse her.

“Come on, honey, wake up.”

“What?” Anita shook the cobwebs off and sat up.

“Time to call it a night, dear. You fell asleep.”

“I did?”

John stood and helped his wife to her feet. “Yes, you did. You snored.”

Caroline laughed. “Don’t listen to him. You weren’t snoring.”

“Or at least not very loudly,” said John. He took one of the candles and led the way. Anita grabbed a second and followed.

Once in their room, John directed his wife to the bed. “Go to sleep,” he said, and went into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stripped his borrowed clothes off. He took a short but hot shower and went back to the bedroom.

Anita wasn’t asleep under the covers, not by a long shot. Her brief nap had given her a second wind, and she was looking forward to rewarding the hero. Disdaining Caroline’s loaned nightgowns, she placed them on a chair against the wall, then took off the skirt and sweater. Placing her candle where it would shine upon her best, she lay back on the bed facing the bathroom door. She still had on the stockings and high heels. Fluffing a pillow up under head, she began what she called warm-up exercises. While one hand pinched and rubbed her large and sensitive nipples, the other traced tight circles around her clitoris. She brought her legs up slightly and spread them, allowing her labia to gape open and her honey tunnel to be exposed to the dim light.

John opened the door to the bedroom and stopped in his tracks, staring at his wife masturbating herself. She moved both hands to her pussy and spread her pussy lips wide. “I wasn’t sleepy,” she said.

“I guess not,” said John, smiling. As his cock began to stiffen, he moved his right hand down to help it along. Moving closer, he stood at the edge of the bed, stroking himself erect as he looked down at her.

“Put it in me,” said Anita.

“In a bit. First, I want you to make sure you’re prepared,” replied her husband. “Keep playing with yourself.”

Anita bit her lower lip in silent despair. She enjoyed masturbating for her husband, both because he liked to watch and because she usually got herself off at least once before he entered her. Tonight, she knew she was ready. She felt hot and flushed, and she could feel the trickle of cunt juice running down the crack of her ass. With one hand, she spread her pussy wide and with the other she began rubbing her clit in a circular motion, hard. “Oh, come on, honey, please?” she begged, as she stared down between the mounds of her breasts at John’s stiffness.

“I don’t know. Are you sure you’re ready?” teased John.

“God, you bastard!” cried Anita. Moving the hand holding her lips open, she stuffed three fingers inside her cunt. “Just how ready do you need me? Get that thing in me now!” She threw her legs wide apart on the bed.

By now, John’s penis was hard and throbbing, the veins along the side distended, the head a bright purplish red knob. Grinning, he knelt between her legs and lowered himself towards her supine body. Anita quickly withdrew her fingers and used both hands to spread her labia apart. But before he penetrated her, John teased her further. Grasping his shaft, he rubbed the head of his cock around her pink slit and over her clit.

“Oh, stop teasing me! Just put it in!” she moaned.

Placing the head at the start of her tunnel, John positioned his arms at her sides so that his weight was off her. He wiggled his cockhead in the entrance to her pussy until she wrapped her arms around his waist and began to drag his ass forward, to make him screw her. Then, with a single mighty thrust, he rammed into her as hard as he could. In a single stroke, all nine inches were buried.

“AAAARRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!” screamed Anita. On the first stroke, she came massively. Wrapping her stocking clad legs around her husband’s waist and her arms around his neck, she screamed out her pleasure. Anita shook convulsively as his continued strokes took her higher and higher in her orgasm. “FUCK ME!...FUCK ME!...FUCK ME!” she cried over and over as he pistoned in and out of her.

John began to slow his pace, to prolong his own pleasure. Slowly, Anita came down from her peak and collapsed into the bed beneath them. “Well,” commented John, “you seemed to enjoy that. Should I stop now?”

“Don’t you dare,” said his wife. “Just keep that up, just like that.” Unwrapping her legs from around him, she moved her hands down to his hips. Silently she began to guide his hip movements, slowing him initially, then urging him faster and faster, thrusting up at his descending organ with her own hips.

For his part, John was content to let Anita orchestrate their fuck. ‘Anita is really juicy and hot tonight!’ he thought to himself. Stiff armed above her, he was quite content to stare down at her jiggling breasts. They may not have been as rock solid as they were when they first met, but they were still firm enough to keep from sagging. Now they softly rolled in time with her motions, her large dark nipples jutting firmly up at him. He never told her, but her nipples were incredibly erotic to him. Her aureoles were each about two inches across and a dark coral color, protruding from her breasts almost an inch. Whenever possible, he had her wear shirts and tops that highlighted her breasts. On their private getaways, he never let her wear a bra.

John felt himself getting closer to his own orgasm. He brought his knees up on the bed and reached down with his arms to her legs. Tucking his arms under her knees, he lifted her ass off the bed and pulled her back onto him. He knelt upright, with his arms spreading Anita’s legs wide. “Play with yourself,” he demanded. “Make me cum.”

Anita moved both her hands between her legs. With one hand, she spread her pussy lips around the intruder, using her index finger to rub her pleasure nub. The other hand snaked down between them to grasp and stroke the iron-hard piston joining them. Anita promptly began to orgasm a second time, crying out for John to cum in her.

For John, it was time as well. As Anita began to buck beneath him, he collapsed forward onto her. Anita’s legs stiffened and straightened as she was almost bent double, her hands trapped in their joined crotches. Screaming in joy, she had an incredible orgasm as her husband grunted loudly and began spewing his seed towards her womb.

After a seeming eternity, John’s thrusts faded away. Breathing heavily, the pair slowly untangled and stretched out on the bed. John lay flat on his back as Anita cuddled against his side. She leaned towards his face, and when he turned towards her, kissed him deeply. John wrapped an arm around her and put the other behind his head. Rubbing her back absently, they continued to kiss for several minutes more.

Anita moved slightly on the bed, to bring her free arm up to hug her husband. She was pleasantly surprised when she brushed his wet and sticky prick and found it was slowly stiffening. Most nights they would only make love once, then go to sleep. Tonight, looked to be an exception to the rule. John noticed the stirring in his groin, as well. He began to apply gentle pressure to her back and shoulders, their silent sign that he wanted his wife to go down on him. She smiled at him and wormed her way south.

Slowly, to prolong the anticipation, Anita licked her husband’s stomach down towards his groin. As she reached his navel, she stopped and began licking out his belly button. By now, John was fully erect again, and he began to apply a firmer pressure to her back. Bringing his free arm down, he placed it on the back of her head and nudged it towards his cock. Anita smiled and moved lower. Reaching down, she lifted the hard and firm penis off his stomach where it rested and placed his cockhead between her lips.

It was obvious that John was enjoying the sensations. As soon as Anita’s lips wrapped around his glans, John’s hips began to buck upwards towards her mouth. Anita rested the side of her head on her husband’s gently undulating stomach and began to gently suck and tongue the end of John’s cock. The hand not beneath her she wrapped around the shaft and slowly began to masturbate it.

Anita thought about the many conversations she had had with her friends and co-workers. More than a few of them hated to blow their husbands, some simply refusing to. ‘Fools!’ she thought. How could this be wrong? Or even sillier, dirty? She had learned to love giving her man good head, taking pleasure in the pleasure he received. Of course, most nights when she sucked John’s cock, it was just another form of foreplay, a warm-up to the main event. But at least once or twice a month, during her period, he would take her night shirt off and have her suck him or tit fuck to orgasm. He always made sure she came by pinching and sucking on her nipples. Several times, before the girls were born and later, when they were infants, he made her go topless when her time came on a weekend. Then, dressed only in tight jeans and heels, John had her do him orally several times a day.

Now, after about ten minutes, she could feel the pressure on her back and head increase, as John’s hip tempo increased. She could sense his imminent explosion, so opening her jaws wider, she took him as deep into her mouth as she could. Suctioning the tip, Anita rapidly jacked his prickshaft and was rewarded when John grunted deeply, and her mouth filled with a flood of warm jism. It was all Anita could do to swallow and keep up with his heavy spurting flow.

Finally, John’s hips settled back into the bed, and he let out a loud sigh. Raising herself up on one elbow, she looked up at him in the candlelight. Anita lewdly licked and smacked her lips and gave his cock a slight jiggle. “Um, um, good,” she giggled. John laughed and pulled her down to his chest. They lay there, Anita half on top of her sprawled out husband, one stocking clad leg thrown over his. A faint shimmer of perspiration coated both. Anita began to drift off to sleep until she felt her husband move slightly and opened her eyes. Looking up at John, she said, “I think I better take the shoes and stockings off before I fall asleep.”

“Er, well, why don’t you leave them on just a bit longer.”

“Well, okay. I’m glad they keep the place warm, though.” Anita snuggled up against John, and in so doing, brought the leg she had thrown over him up slightly. Her eyes opened wide when her thigh rubbed up against his cock, now stiff a third time. Looking down his abdomen, she could see it hard and red and curving up and back towards her. “Wow, John, you are really horny tonight!” she exclaimed. Reaching down, she traced the tips of her fingers around the head and down the length of the shaft. “I guess you really do want that hero’s reward, huh?”

“What can I say?” said John. “You know I like to see you in high heels and stockings.”

“I guess so,” said Anita, reaching down to clasp him in her hand. She began to squirm upright and on to him.

“Uh, uh,” he said. “Sit up and climb on top.”

Anita slowly straightened. “You horny bastard! I get to do all the work, huh?” She drew her legs up, but her protest wasn’t meant, because she continued to jack on his cockshaft.

John centered himself on the king-size bed (‘Biggest damn bed I’ve ever seen!’ he thought.) Reaching behind him, he grabbed a pair of pillows and tucked them under his head. “I want to watch. Climb on top and give me a real show,” he said.

“Horny bastard,” repeated Anita. She waited for John to position himself, then threw a leg over his waist, straddling him. Kneeling upright, she reached between her legs. With one hand, she spread her pussy lips wide, while with the other she aimed his erection right where they both wanted it. “Is this what you want? You want me to put your cock in my pussy?” She lowered herself until only the tip was seated at the mouth of the tunnel. Moving the hand holding the mighty cock, she spread her pussy lips wide. “Or do you want me to sit on it all the way? Do you want to be deep inside me?” She slowly sat backwards, John’s cock gliding upwards into her warm and wet and marvelously tight orifice.

“Just what do you want me to do now? Bounce up and down on it?” she asked, starting a slow flexing of her knees. The organ impaling her began to slide in and out. “Or did you want to see me play with my nipples? That turns you on, doesn’t it? Or should I just lift them up, so I can suck the nipples? Um, you like to see me suck my nipples, don’t you?”

John had no response to any of these questions. Or perhaps his actions were his response. Stretching out, he placed both hands behind his head and slowly moved his hips, matching her rises and descents. He smiled as he watched and listened to her, bouncing on his cock, licking her big tits and nipples, and playing with her clit. God, he loved watching her fuck him!

After cumming twice already that night, John was in no urgency. Anita, however, was. The blow job had definitely made her clit tingle, and shortly after climbing on top of John, she had shuddered and came, describing it to him as she did so. Then she resumed her duties and managed to cum twice more. Finally, sweat rolling down her proud and massive breasts, she began a rapid and vigorous bouncing fuck, leaning forward to rub her sweat-soaked tits through John’s chest hair. Thrusting upwards, he loudly surged his semen into her grasping cunt as she cried out her passion. Afterwards, still trapping his softening cock in her pussy, Anita stretched out on top of him, and they kissed passionately and deeply. As he held her in his arms, the twosome slowly drifted off to sleep, as John’s cock sluggishly dropped from her twat and their copious mixed juices drained down onto his balls and ass.

Chapter 6 - Bedrooms

Caroline walked out of the master bath to find her husband turning down the quilt. She had removed her skirt while performing her toilet and had neglected to put it on again. Now she stood in her long sweater, stockings, and heels watching as her husband began to unbutton his shirt. “Anything particular you’d like me to wear tonight, darling?” she asked.

Before her husband could reply, there was a quiet knock on the door. Malcolm walked to the door and opened it slightly. On seeing who it was, he opened it wide so that Caroline could see their visitors. “Come in, come in,” he told Reeves and Phoebe.

Caroline smiled at the two servants. Both were dressed most informally. The butler wore his trousers, covered by a long terry robe, and slippers on his bare feet. Phoebe was barefoot and wearing only a short silk robe.

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Malcolm.

Reeves answered. “Actually, we had been planning on watching a video tonight, but what with the power lines down, that idea is out.” Phoebe nodded agreement, grinning widely.

“Oh really, anything in particular?”

“We had planned on watching the tape we made of Master Jerry with his girlfriend last summer.”

“Oh, yes, an excellent choice,” commented Malcolm. Indeed, it was, he thought. When Tony and Reeves had suggested it to the pair, they had been quite enthusiastic about the prospect. They promptly changed into swimsuits, Jerry into a tiny Speedo and his girlfriend into an absolutely outrageous side-tie string thong bikini. Proceeding to the pool deck, Tony had taped while Reeves had silently directed. Jerry had oiled up the young lady, a slim but large-breasted blonde, before stripping her down and screwing her seemingly non-stop for well over an hour. “A great film, as it were.” The whole group had taken part one way or another. Jeanine had stripped down and provided blowjobs to the film crew, while Malcolm, Caroline, and Phoebe had staged an impromptu threesome on the balcony overlooking the scene.

“One could almost call it inspirational,” said Reeves, smiling.

“She’s not his girlfriend anymore. She’s his fiancé now,” said Caroline.

“Outstanding!” said Reeves.

Phoebe squealed her approval and clapped happily. “I’m so happy for them! She’s such a nice girl! And so pretty! When’s the wedding?”

“Not until next year,” answered Caroline. “In the fall, I believe.”

“The next time they come home, we’ll have to throw them a ‘special’ party,” said Phoebe, arching her eyebrows.

Malcolm simply laughed. “I will leave that in your ever so creative hands, Phoebe dear. Just don’t try to wear them out so much they can’t have a proper honeymoon. So, since you couldn’t party on your own tonight, you were curious over our plans? Well, please join us. We were just getting ready for bed.”

“Yes, I had just asked Malcolm if he had any preferences in my attire,” said Caroline. “What about you Reeves, is there anything you’d like to see me in? Or out of?”

“Not particularly, Caroline,” said the butler, eyeing her appreciatively. “Why don’t you just take off that sweater and bend over?”

“Ooh, goody, a stand-up doggy style fuck! I haven’t had one of those in....days!” Caroline exclaimed. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head, then trotted to the edge of the bed and bent over at the waist. She spread her legs and looked back over her shoulder expectantly as Reeves undressed. Reeves’ penis was prodigiously erect by the time he had removed his pants. Disdaining foreplay, he simply walked up behind Caroline, positioned his prickhead at her cunthole, and smoothly slid inside her in one slow thrust.

Malcolm reached over to Phoebe and untied the sash holding her robe closed. As he knew, she was naked beneath, her breasts jutting forth over her flat stomach and bald shaved pussy. “Considering your height, my dear, or should I say, lack of height, why don’t you simply kneel on the bed at the edge next to Caroline.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she quipped, and scooted up onto the bed. In moments, Malcolm was standing next to Reeves as they began to vigorously pump in and out of their moaning and squealing partners. Their hips bucked in unison as the women thrust back at their penetrators. All four kept up a light patter, giving one another encouragement and approval. On the bed, Caroline and Phoebe would occasionally support themselves with a single arm, using the other to reach over and pinch the other’s nipples or reach down and scratch their fucker’s cock as it moved in and out. Both women climaxed before their partner, then began to clamp their pussies on the large intruders, and all four came together in a heated tableau.

Untangling, the foursome climbed onto the bed and rested before their next bout. Malcolm sprawled in the center of the bed with Caroline resting atop him, Reeves and Phoebe on either side. Reeves and Phoebe both began to idly stroke Caroline’s back and asscheeks to warm her up again. Slowly she began to squirm beneath their ministrations, and her movements began to have a predictable effect on Malcolm’s cock. After a few minutes, it stirred to life, rising and wedging itself between Caroline’s legs.

“So, what did everyone think of our houseguests?” asked Malcolm.

Caroline lifted her head and supported them on her hands, her elbows planted on her husband’s chest. Lifted this way, her breasts were now accessible, and Malcolm brought a hand up to rub and caress her nipples. Caroline closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Opening her eyes, she spoke first. “Umm, that’s nice, darling. Now the Andrew’s. Well, as I told you earlier, the girls are simply delicious looking. And so is John. I just hope he has a big, thick, juicy cock like you two.” She reached over and gave Reeves’ organ, now fully erect again, a small tug and massage.

“Reeves?”

Reeves reached over to Malcolm’s wife and began to run his fingers up and down the crack of Caroline’s ass. “Oh, simply stunning. I’m not sure which I’m going to enjoy more, having the twins or having their mother. She looks like she could really tear a cock out at the roots if she got going.”

“I want the twins!” exclaimed Phoebe. Noticing what Reeves was working on, Phoebe pulled the rounded globes of Caroline’s ass apart. Reeves slowly worked his middle finger into Caroline’s anus. Caroline shivered slightly, her hips beginning to move against the servant’s finger. “And him! I saw what looked to be a good size boner in those pants, and I want it in me!”

“Yes, I would have to agree,” commented Malcolm. He squirmed slightly beneath his wife until his cockhead was positioned at the entrance to her twat. Placing his hands on her hips he pushed her down until she was impaled on him. “He certainly seemed turned on by that outfit she was wearing.”

“So were you,” commented Caroline. Her eyes remained closed as she undulated in the center of the group.

“Then it’s settled,” decided Malcolm. “Tomorrow, Phoebe, you give them all a full dose in their coffee or juice, two drops apiece. We’ll see if that does the trick. If not, another half dose the next morning, and they’ll be rutting like dogs in heat by lunchtime Monday. Now, Reeves, why don’t you climb on top and put that dork of yours right up Caroline’s ass?” Malcolm spread his and Caroline’s legs wide apart.

As Reeves smiled and crawled between the outstretched legs, Caroline’s eyes opened wide, and she beamed down at her love in anticipation.

“What about me?” asked Phoebe good-naturedly.

“Honey, you just swing that sweet little pussy up here, and I’ll lick my husband’s cum out till you simply scream,” promised a grinning Caroline.

***

Once Anita had left the twins for the evening, they quietly chatted as they crawled into their beds. The room that Caroline had assigned them was much larger than either of their bedrooms at home, even combined, and sported a pair of queen-size beds. Both were exhausted, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

It was Laurie who woke to a low moaning sound coming from the hallway. She couldn’t quite make it out. “Cory? You awake?” she called out in a stage whisper.

“Huh? What?” asked her groggy sister.

“You awake?”

“I am now. What do you want?”

“You hear that? That sound, sort of like a moan?” asked Laurie. “What is it?”

Cory sat upright and lit a match to her lantern. Canting her head towards the door she listened, then grinned. “Oh, that, that’s just Mom and Dad getting it on. You’ve never heard them before?”

“You mean, like, you know, Mom and Dad are, well, screwing?” asked a wide-eyed Laurie.

“Sure! You mean to tell me you’ve never heard them fucking at nights?”

“No!”

Cory laughed. “Maybe that’s because my bedroom shares a wall with theirs.”

“Daddy said the walls were insulated and soundproofed,” argued her sister.

“Yeah, well they’re not as soundproof as he thinks they are. This sure isn’t the first time I’ve heard them going at it.”

“You’re shitting me,” said Laurie.

“No way. I figure they screw around almost every night.”

“You listen to them every night?” asked Laurie, goggle-eyed.

Cory shook her head. “No, but if I can’t get to sleep and it’s late, it’s almost a sure bet. Listen, you can hear Mom calling out Dad’s name!”

Faintly, they could hear through the door Anita crying out, “Fuck me, John! Fuck me! Harder! Harder!”

“See? I told you it was them!” exclaimed Cory with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Wow!” said Laurie. “I didn’t really think they got it on anymore”

“Yeah, I know. I was reading in our sex ed book that old people can still have sex, even after they turn forty. It even said that some people screw in their fifties and sixties!”

“Cool.” The concept that their parents weren’t old and were in fact just barely turning the corner into a lively middle age was unconsidered by the pair. “Do they know that you listen to them?” asked Laurie.

“Get real.”

“So, what do you do when they, um, start fooling around?”

“The same thing, fool around,” stated Cory, matter-of-factly.

“What, you mean you diddle yourself?”

“Sure. Once I knew what was going on, it sort of turned me on. I started to let my fingers do the walking. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t play with yourself once in a while?”

Laurie sheepishly grinned. “Yeah, sometimes. Especially after a date.”

“Me, too,” admitted Cory. “Listen, this is real interesting, but it’s late and I’m tired. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Christ, just when it was getting interesting,” protested her sister. Cory blew out the lamp and they both crawled under the sheets.

The conversation had turned on the twins more than they had been willing to let on to each other. In both cases, after laying down and pulling the covers up, each of them had moved a hand down their bodies to the cleft between their thighs and another hand inside their sheer chemises to their breasts. Trying to be as quiet as they could, each masturbated themselves to a satisfying orgasm.

Finally, as they began to drowse off to sleep again, the silence was broken by a renewed moaning from outside the room. ‘God, they’re doing it again!’, both girls thought, as they woke and finger-frigged themselves in time with their parents.

Chapter 7 - Waking Up

Malcolm and Caroline awoke about mid-morning, Malcolm nestled against his wife’s bare ass, spoon fashion. Reeves and Phoebe had returned to her room after a few brief trysts the night before, and now the married couple slowly woke by themselves. As he commonly did, Malcolm woke with what he called his “piss hard-on” and snuggled closer to his wife, rubbing it in the crack of her cheeks. Reaching around, he gently cupped one of her large breasts and began to lightly caress the nipple. It rapidly hardened.

Caroline woke to the pleasant sensation of sexual stimulation. Eyes still shut, she murmured contentedly and moved one hand up to her husband’s, squeezing it appreciatively. Slowly moving back against her husband, she lifted her leg and her husband slid his erection into her pussy from behind. As he began to slowly stroke into her, she sighed with pleasure. “Mmmm. Morning, dear.”

“Good morning to you, too,” replied Malcolm. “Sleep well?”

“Delightfully. I slept the sleep of the well and truly fucked. You?” Caroline closed her legs, trapping her husband within her tight tunnel, and moved backwards against his chest.

“Quite. But I think I still have a little strength left.” Malcolm settled into a slow and leisurely copulation while he pinched and tweaked her nipples. Fifteen minutes later, the pair grunted out their quietly intense cum. They nestled in each other’s arms for a few minutes, then Malcolm climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

Caroline sleepily pulled the covers up as she heard her husband begin his morning ritual. She dozed happily until she knew her husband was out of the bathroom and dressing. Sleepily, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the covers sliding off her proud breasts. Malcolm enjoyed the sight, eyeing her from the closet as he dressed. “Come on, sleepyhead, wake up. We’ve got a big day ahead,” he commented.

“Yes, dear,” she replied, standing. “Give me a few minutes. Anything special you want me to wear today?” Caroline moved towards the bath.

“Don’t you remember?” he asked. “It’s still ‘Uniform B’. The Andrews, remember?”

Caroline stopped in her tracks and turned. “Oh, my. I forgot all about them! What should we do?”

Malcolm pulled a heavy sweater out of the closet and slipped it over his head. “I’m figuring they are still asleep. When they wake, brunch, and then we go out on the snowmobiles and see what happened to their car. Better get your long johns out.”

Caroline nodded and went into the bath. She had a good idea what to wear.

***

Malcolm was mistaken about John and Anita. Down the hall, the pair was already wide awake. John had awoken first and tiptoed into their bath, where he had relieved his bladder. Then he slipped back under the covers for a bit more shuteye. Anita had woken at this and climbed out of bed. More rested, she had showered while her husband snoozed. Wrapping her towel around her curvy body, she had gone back to the bedroom to dress.

John awoke for his second time. Rolling onto his side, he had propped himself up on one elbow and watched as she came into the room. “Morning, beautiful,” he greeted her.

“Morning yourself,” she replied. “Getting up?”

John looked his wife up and down, from her abundant cleavage at the top of the towel to the considerable length of thigh at the bottom. Tossing the bedspread back, he commented, “I already am,” and laughed. “Come here.”

“God, you’re incorrigible,” she said smiling. Still, she dropped the towel and moved back towards the bed.

John surprised his wife, though, when he reached out an arm and drew her torso towards the head of the bed. When she was standing by the bed, he leaned over and buried his face between her legs.

Startled, Anita let out a small gasp and wrapped her hands behind his head, holding his face to her crotch. John rarely enjoyed eating her out, usually licking her cunt only during sixty-nine and at her request. This morning she was in heaven, spreading her legs to allow easier access as he vigorously licked up and down her slit, nibbling and sucking her clitoris. “Oh, God, John! Oh, God!” she cried out quietly, as she orgasmed on suddenly shaky legs.

John drew back from her pussy and looked up at her, a large grin on his wet face. “Come on, let’s fool around,” he said.

“You’re on!” Anita climbed onto the bed with him and was surprised again, as John turned her away from him and positioned her legs on each side of his face. As Anita eagerly moved into the sixty-nine position above him, she was ecstatic when her husband pulled her crotch back down to his lips and began to noisily slurp her freely flowing pussy. Anita came several times, as she tried to distractedly suck her husband’s cock. Finally, John took a breather, and Anita’s mouth swooped down, deep throating the erection before her. Now she gave her husband a dose of his own medicine, sucking and jerking him off so that he couldn’t concentrate on her pussy. It was only minutes later she was rewarded with a mouthful of his pleasure.

Slumping down atop him, Anita licked the cum that had dribbled past her lips. Again, she was surprised when he rapidly hardened, almost as if by magic!

“Kneel on the bed, honey,” he requested, crawling out from beneath her.

Anita moved to the center of the bed, kneeling with her knees spread wide. She watched over a shoulder as John crawled up behind her. Grasping the end of his prick, he moved between her legs and slipped it into her pussy, driving inward in a fast and smooth motion. Anita grunted in pleasure as he filled her cunt to the fullest.

In silence, John pushed his wife’s shoulders down to the bedspread. Holding her ass up into the air, John began to hammer into Anita from the rear. Anita began to cry out in pleasure, at first quietly but building in volume, as she came. John simply continued to plow her furrow, until she began to cum yet again, then collapsed on her back as his bucking hips and twitching cock marked the disgorging of his semen into her grasping twat.

Spent, John collapsed onto the bed. “God, that was great, honey!” he said.

“Mmm, hmm,” she said hugging him. “But now I need to take another shower.”

“Complaints, complaints. Want me to scrub your back?”

“John! We’ve got to get dressed. What would the Jensons say?”

John laughed as Anita went into the bathroom. “Let him get his own girl.”

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. The door opened a crack, and they heard a soft, “John, Anita? You awake?”

John grabbed the blankets and covered his nakedness, as Anita grabbed a robe and threw it on. “Come on in!” she called out.

Caroline’s head peeked around the door. “You two awake?”

“Uh, yeah, just getting up,” said John. He pulled the covers up and tucked them under his arms. “What’s up?” Anita tied the sash on the robe and went to the door, opening it and bringing Caroline inside. Caroline was wearing a zippered, one-piece outfit and medium heeled pumps.

That was a preview of The Jenson Family Chronicles. To read the rest purchase the book.

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