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losgud.Happily Ever After

From lushgod@hotnomail.com Tue Oct 07 12:59:51 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.incest,alt.stories.incest
Subject: New Story--Happily
From: losgud <lushgod@hotnomail.com>
Date: Tue, 7 Oct 1997 16:59:51 GMT
--------
=========================
The following is total fiction. Any resemblance etc. is a product of your
imagination. This work is meant as ADULT entertainment. If the laws
where you sit say you're too young to read this, go away and turn
yourself in to the thought police. Even thinking about sex is dirty and
nasty and will warp your mind forever. Go watch a movie or play a
game that ends with a body count in the high four figures. Death and
destruction are good clean fun.

1997 losgud. Personal use just fine. Archiving okay. Absolutely NO
for-profit use permitted. Reposting without notice is frowned upon.
Tampering with the text (rewriting) is illegal. Copyright violations will
fall under the jurisdiction of my principality, where the punishment is
to discourage repeat offenders. We cut your fucking hands off!
=========================
M/F M/F/F Inc Cons Humor
Note: I misplaced the pretense of plot and character development with
this one. Short and oooooh so sweet. Enjoy!
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
"Oh don't worry, I'm _very_ easy . . . to get along with."
I wasn't sure if I should trust what my ears were hearing, or
rather, the way my brain seemed to be interpreting the words. But
then the way she turned away from me, putting a slant to her hips . . .
the slope of her shoulder said it all. Dumb moth to a bright light, I
fluttered across the space between us. The shiver she gave when I lay
my fingers gently on that shoulder. Just this slight touch and I was
raising goose bumps! If she was feeling cold, it was the chill you get
when you're burning with a fever. I caressed her and her flesh just
rippled. I bent and breathed the fresh smell of her skin, the heady
scent of soap and shampoo and just plain _her_. I began brushing her
bare shoulders with feathery kisses, interspersing them with little
swirling licks. I could hear the tiniest of sighs roiling up from deep
inside her.
Moving her hair aside to expose her neck, I then moved in close
and gave her a pronounced nip at the nape. This was an old trick I'd
learned from rutting tom cats. And it worked! She gave a jolt and a
squeak, which quickly turned into the first full fledged moan. The line
of fine down leading to her spine was standing on end. As my hands
moved down to the sides of her back she lifted her arms enough to
allow them easy access in sliding around to her front. I cupped her
breasts through the material of her top.
What I was doing was absolutely wrong, wrong, wrong, but going
by the physical evidence it felt right, right, right. Beverly's breasts
were perfect palmfuls. The nipples against my palms felt like magic
buttons. Push gently. But maybe they were dials that needed to be
twisted a little. Or knobs you pulled out a tiny bit to turn on the
juice. My god, she was like a gothic romance--her bosom was actually
_heaving_. Her blouse was a strapless halter, a frilly fancified tube
top. _Silly elastic_, I thought, _you can't stop me_. But before I could
act, Bev lay her hands atop mine and smoothly pulled them off her
breasts. For an instant I thought some voice of reason was going to
stop us before we got into trouble. She must have sensed the tensing
in my arms as I got ready to remove them from around her.
"No, silly," she turned her head to look at me, the softest
sweetest smile upon her glazed face. She then faced forward again, her
hands gently guiding mine up under the fabric. Her breasts melted in
my hands.

Beverly was new to town. Having my sister-in-law stay with us
until she got settled had not been my idea. Bev wanted the type of
apartment that would cost twice what she was willing to pay. Not that
she had anything to pay until she found that dream job where she'd
get paid tons of money for doing very little. It wasn't that I minded
giving her a hand, I just knew the process would last a long time. My
work room was the spare bedroom, which had never posed much of a
problem before. I couldn't believe I'd been bitching about the situation
for the past months before it happened. I couldn't believe I'd been
bitching about it within the past half hour. I wasn't really losing the
use of my room. I was just finding a different work to do in it. And
delightful work it was, I thought as I started stretching the top up
over her breasts. I was thrilled to be able to lend her a hand or two,
or more.
Just as I was lifting the top over her head, I swung around her
side, nuzzling past her raised underarm. Using one hand, I twisted the
top, capturing her arms together above her head. I slid my free hand
over a breast while I began kissing my way down her collarbone.
"If I can't manage to restrain myself," she asked in a husky
breath, "what makes you think you'll be able to?" It was a rhetorical
question of course. She easily slipped her arms free, and then her
hands were all over me, pushing my head down to the unattended
breast, stroking my hair, kneading my shoulders, reaching down to
gather my shirt up over my head. When this interrupted my suckling, I
slowly dropped, my tongue tracing the way down to her tummy. She
tried the same trick with my shirt but my hands had better places to
be. "Nor can you stop me," I murmured in my kisses on her tummy.
My arms draped around her, my hands sliding down her back, coming to
a rest gripping onto her ass, stopping to knead there a little before
tracing her waist from the back to the front.
Once there, I had no more time to waste. My nimble fingers had
the button undone and the zipper down within a breath. As I slipped
the pants over her hips I took another deep breath, filling that sense
with the luscious musky scent freed from the denim confines. Working
the pants down her legs, I leaned towards the vee of her panties. My
nose seemed perfect to fit down in the slot. As she worked her legs--
freeing her ankles of their jeany chains--her thighs spread slightly. In
the crotch, the dampened fabric molded itself to the parting of her
inflamed parts. Before I could think of it, my tongue lashed out to
linger on that very spot of cloth.
We both gasped at the same moment.
The way my dancing tongue made the whole area quiver made me
want to keep on doing just that. But eventually I stopped. I stopped
to do you know what. I pulled down her panties with the long slow
touch, the public unveiling of the modern savior. I moved back in right
away. I bent down even further and _basked_ in the odor.
"My god Bev," I murmured, "you smell _so-o_ good" I looked at
her puffy lips from the front. The glistening of the inner line spread
out in a fan. "You make me dizzy," is about the last thing I remember
saying for awhile.
I somehow got her backed up to the bed, and then she toppled
down on her back. Her knees stayed high and waving far apart. In an
instant I was on me knees, my mouth wide and glued to her cunt
spreading it wide and gluey. I stayed down there a long time content
to spend the rest of my life down there. I was a musical genius, and I
knew no sound worthy of playing much less recording that the mountain
climbing moans of her orgasms. Why did I keep choosing to scale the
same heights? Because, after a little recovery, they were still there.
They jutted up again.
Then in one sort of superhuman motion, Beverly not only pushed
herself up into the middle of the bed, but she dragged me along for the
ride, pulling me all the way on top of her. The movement was that of a
heavy machine cycling effortlessly. But the way she nearly smothered
me with kisses was something no machine could do. Her kisses were
wide and deep and frantic. That she enjoyed the taste of her arousal
as much as I did was something I found incredibly arousing.
Most amazing of all, from my perspective, was how she'd seemingly
sprouted so many pairs of hands. I couldn't turn my head to verify
what I felt: two of her hands held my face clamped to hers. Four or
five hands were active on my back, alternating deep rubs with frenetic,
equally deep, scratching. A pair of pairs were at battle on my nethers,
the one clenching my ass, almost thwarting the other guys who were
working overtime to get my pants off. I heard a furious _ripping_
right before my underpants were miraculously flung away. My favorite
hands were the ones slowly caressing my forearms. That was the touch
that set all my hairs as pins. Those were the ones that slid down and
rearranged me next. I was suddenly sitting on my heels, knees nudged
into her armpits, leaning forward when her hands pulled my penis in
that direction.
I was struck by the sight that, really, left me unconvinced I
wasn't dreaming. Beverly rubbed my cock all over her face while
murmuring its praises.
"Ooh," she cooed, "you brought me a present! How did you ever
guess that this was _exactly_ what I wanted?"
With that she popped the head between her lips. She paused for
a moment to prop her shoulders up on a pillow. Having gained a better
angle, Bev shot me the sweetest smile, then piped up, "Get ready! When
you're an old man, you'll still remember this as the best blow job of
your life."
Within a minute I knew her tongue spoke the truth. From stem to
stern between my legs was a ship, her fingers answering the call for
_all hands on deck_. I hardly needed too much of all that sort of
attention. I do have a gentlemanly streak, and as well I thought it
politic to make strangled mention of the fact that I am unfortunately not
of the breed of cocks who can crow all night.
"_Watch out!_" my thick tongue advised.
Her tongue took no heed of mine. My orgasm welled up and just
as I tripped off the cliff she stopped my free fall. Her fingers clamped
together in strategic locations, placing me painfully back up on the
precipice. I thought I was dying. My kindness, I realized, would not
be repaid.
We rolled around a bit, but always it was Beverly's mouth
bringing me to the top again, only to snap the elevator's cable. If
nothing else, she was certainly making good on her word.
Suddenly I was thrown, set sprawling on the edge of the bed.
Beverly retrieved the pillow from behind her. Her legs bent in
pyramids, she shifted her hips and lifted her ass, wedging in the pillow
underneath. She presented herself like that, putting all her charms on
display. "Come fuck me _now_," she growled.
I dove between her open legs. Our crotches met, and I didn't
need her hands down in the tangle of our legs. I shoved them away.
My cock was a heat-seeking missile; it had no problem finding its mark.
I thought to tease her. But the sensation of my cockhead nudging
around in the kiss of her slick swollen lips was quick more than I could
take. Hoping for escape, I took a deep breath and plunged all the way
in. Bev groaned long and loud as she instantly quaked into frenzy. I
was left biting my lip and saying my prayers, begging my way back
from the brink.
We lay, still well joined, recovering.
"Sex is all locks and keys," she whispered. "It's all a mostly
futile searching. It seems, however," her pussy giving me a squeeze,
"that I have actually found the one perfectly fitting key, the one that
turns _all_ my tumblers."
There wasn't anything else to do, really, but to set out and prove
her theory.
Soon she was on the move again. Swinging a leg high and wide
she somehow managed to turn over without us coming disengaged.
Looking at me over the landscape of her backside her tongue fluttered,
"Around the world, baby. First stop." She hunched back against me.
"Do me like a dog," she groaned as I did.
Eventually we wound up back at square one. It was about time
for the grand finale. Bev would probably die if she had more than
another orgasm, and I was going to die if I didn't let go soon. Just
then she got a wide-eyed look on her face that seemed more akin to
fear than pleasure. I didn't understand what was going on until I
suddenly a big tongue slurping all around our juncture. It was like
the big dog had snuck into the room. But we didn't have a big dog.
We didn't have any size of dog. There were two dogs in the room, but
they were the ones coupling. And no dog had such a talented tongue.
Certainly no dog could play such a nimble stroking of fingers. The
added attention was too much for the two of us. Clasping each other
tightly, we fell off the cliff screaming together. After such a protracted
build-up I didn't think I'd ever stop bursting. The sensation was
complete with an obviously familiar hand rolling the whole of my scrotum
in the palm like a pair of dice.
After rolling apart, there wasn't anything else to do but wait for
Annabelle to speak. She didn't have the upper hand. She had the
whole deck. I did take note of the cards laid out. Anna was in fact
naked. She had just fondled us both to a tsunami of double pleasure.
And she was sitting there on the foot of the bed with a pleasant breed
of smirk on her face.
"There I was," she announced, "halfway to the grocery when I
thought to turn around. As long as I was going into town anyway, I
thought to see if you," she said to me, "wanted me to pick up anything.
Silly me. Turns out you had everything you wanted right at home."
It was a brilliant move. I saw it and I seized it, without guilt. It
was the most honest answer I could give. "Now I do," giving a sharp
nudge of my toe against her thigh.
As an answer she surprised us both. She reached to Bev's knees,
then disarranged her display of modesty. Bev's legs held wide apart, I
nearly stammered at what came next. My wife lowered her head, tongue
out, to her sister's cunt.
"_Anna_, what are you _doing_?" Beverly hissed.
"_My_ husband, _my_ lover, _my_ cock and _my_ sperm," she
answered. "I don't mind if you borrow them--though it'd be polite if
you asked first. You can _borrow_ them. Your cunt is full of _my_
spunk, and I want it back now."
The air in the room fairly crackled. Obviously, none of the three
of us had ever been in a sexual situation this weird. But Anna's
careful ministrations soon had Bev revving her engine, after which
nothing mattered. They flopped around so that Bev was sitting on
Anna's face while the two of us buried ours between her legs. Our
tongues twining, dancing, sharing tastes of Anna's cunt. Then Bev
flipped them, looking up at me panting from under Anna's dripping,
distended sex. "Fuck her like this," she commanded. I was surprised
to notice that not only was I willing, but I was actually able. The tense
hours had seemed like days, when in fact it had been barely fifteen
minutes since I'd blown my load inside Bev. But there I stood, stiff and
proud.
No sooner had I done as requested than she set forth to do to
our genitals what Anna had earlier done to ours. It was a desperate
gesture I realized, borne of the fact that she was well on the frothy
way herself. Having everything I wanted right at home, I went to town.
The very walls of the house shook, not to mention the bed frame, as the
three of us came in a gale together.
We wound up huddled in a lump, a big collection of legs swung
over thighs, arms intercrossed, fingers engaged in gentle tracings, lips
trading slow tongue filled kisses.
Even as our sexes rested, I was filled with splendid visions that
would indeed prove to come true. Our fingers became more bold, slowly
building up to even further stories. I felt like a bolt of lightning had
seared through my brain, coming upon the purity of the revelation that
against all odds, I had in fact somehow become _The man Who Lived
Most Happily Ever After_.

=========================
Like? Yes? No? Comments welcome. losgud@hotmail.com

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