Downstairs the family reunion had progressed into an orgy. My relatives sat around stripped to the waist, shoes off, playing cards to see who would take off what next. The air was thick with the smoke of cigars and the growl of conversation had become a constant factor. I took the family car keys off the dresser and slipped out into the night. I had many changes of mind and heart on the way to Frank's place, and if it hadn't been for the fact that the car kept getting closer to him I might well have put this confrontation off until it was too late. As it was I arrived at his house, parked the car, and walked up the driveway with rubbery legs.
His father answered the doorbell. "Jackie! Don't you know the bride and the groom aren't supposed to see each other on the day before the ceremony?"
"Oh yes, I'd forgotten," I replied distractedly. "I have to talk with Frank right away, though, so do you think an exception can be made?"
"I certainly wouldn't object. The only problem is that Frank is out at a stag party. The boys at his college decided he had to leave bachelorhood in style, you know."
"Will he be back soon?"
"I honestly don't know. But come in, my dear, you can keep me company while you wait. My wife is visiting friends and taking care of the last details of the wedding. Such a confounded nuisance." He let me into the living room and offered me a drink. I asked for coffee and a cigarette. My nerves were shot. The idea that Frank could come in at any moment terrified me. He'd probably be tipsy and amorous, and what I had to tell him wouldn't go down well even if he was sober and spent.
"Well, what is it you have to talk with Frank about?" asked his father. "You look drawn and nervous. It can't be that awful, can it?"
"It's very personal, Mr. Perkins."
"Call me Jack. Now relax and if you want to tell me, feel free to. If you don't want to tell me I won't take it personally. I realize there must be many things on your mind at a time like this, but it's odd how often those things are less complicated once you let them out into the open."
Through my distraction I saw him the way I'd seen him the other day, such a strong, masculine person with his clear blue eyes and silver hair, square jaw, and that atmosphere of cigars and bourbon. He sat in the chair facing mine and gave me his full attention. Until that time I had seen him just as Frank's father, a person who was often present when I was visiting him but who kept aloof from our young world. Now that he and I were alone I felt a strong urge to get to know him better, and to confess all.
"When Frank proposed to me I was a virgin," I began hesitantly. "And now I'm not. But believe me, Mr. Perkins, I mean Jack, it's not entirely my fault. I wanted Frank to be the first but he wanted to wait until we were married!"
He didn't say anything for a while and I felt as if I was sitting on hot coals. Then he shook his head and said: "That boy's a fool. How often have I told him not to be so inflexible! Principles don't mean a thing in the world. Well, so you made love with someone, and it serves my son right. But is that any reason to be so upset?"
"It's not just one person, Jack. It's… oh, you're going to think I'm awful!" I broke down crying and he hurried over to my side to take me into his arms. It was very comforting to be enveloped in his masculine aroma and I readily snuggled up to him as the tears rolled out of my eyes. He caressed my hair soothingly and told me not to worry, he was a man of the world, even if his son wasn't. "There have been a whole bunch, men and women!" I blurted out. He stiffened momentarily and I thought he was going to expel me.
"Ah… yes, I see, that is something to be distressed about… unless you enjoyed it, of course."
I looked him in the face and found he was smiling faintly. "I did, Jack, very much, but the worst is still to come."
"You're not pregnant are you?"
"No, my uncle is a doctor. Well, the people I went to bed with are all family, not all, but mostly." He told me to enumerate. "My father, several uncles, two aunts, my brother, two cousins, and then there were two black men, one oriental, I think that's all."
He whistled through his teeth but stayed by my side. I wondered what he was thinking. And suddenly, without him saying a word, I found out. There was movement in his lap, a cock stirred or bobbed, and the knob pushed at the material of his pants some eight inches from where it began. "You know what I think?" he said, taking my hands into his. "I think you should keep this a secret between you and me – and your family, of course. Never tell Frank about this." Then he drew me toward him and kissed me on the lips. "Nor about this."
"Oh Jack, no!" I cried. "I'll only be making it worse!"
"Only if you want to keep score," he said, kissing me on the cheek, forehead, nose, and holding me closer. I couldn't struggle for long. A real desire for him sprang up in my belly, a need that had its origins in the past. Now I realized he had always attracted me but that I had always thought of him as out of my reach or class. And now that he made advances I was flattered and excited. I kissed him back, working my lips into his and allowing him to part them so his tongue could enter my mouth. I closed my lips around it and pretended to suck it like a cock, a hint which didn't escape him. He took my hand and placed it on that throbbing cock that I'd seen earlier, and having a grip on it made it seem all the bigger.
Both my hands fumbled with his zip and extracted that big cock, but a bolt of fear hit me before I could do it justice. "What if Frank comes home and sees this?" I asked. "Aren't we taking an awful risk?"
"I suppose you're right. Besides that my wife might come home. Let's drive a little way and park," he said. His cock went back into hiding but it seemed to need more room in there. It stuck out like a concealed weapon and Jack walked strangely toward his car. He had a big car with a car seat large enough to party on, and he didn't drive too far before he pulled over into the bushes and proceeded to do just that. We lay on the back seat and started to kiss again, warming each other up where he had grown cool in the interim. My hand found his cock again, took it out again, and I was delighted to find it was just as big and hard as before. Now there was nothing to stop me from finding out more about that splendid member. I slid down along the seat and ran my tongue along the veined skin, relishing its silky smoothness, its warm odor, and the bushy hairs that brushed against my face. Jack managed to take off his pants without disturbing me and he urged me to undress without disturbing him. It wasn't easy. I wanted to suck on his cock with all my heart but he wanted me naked. Very well. I let go of his cock and quickly took off my clothes, waited until he'd taken off his shirt and then, both of us as naked as the day we were born, we resumed our original position.
Jack loved to get sucked off, I could tell that right away. He crooned a melody of delight way in the back of his throat and his cock kept on growing harder the more I worked it over. But he knew something about women, too, because as soon as we had both indulged ourselves for a while he made me sit on his face. I squirmed about until his mouth was in the right part of my pussy and bent over to get back to his dick. We ate and sucked to our hearts content there in the confines of the back seat of a Cadillac, and I couldn't help but think back over that last date I'd had with his son, both of us cramped into his car and talking about marriage. It was fitting to have gone the full cycle.
"It's years since I've done this," he said when we had eaten enough and were sitting upright in the back of the car. He had one arm around my shoulders and the other hand was between my legs toying with my clit. "My wife and I used to go to the drive-in now and then and we'd play at being teenagers again, but we stopped that when we realized how much we preferred a comfortable bed. With you it's very different! I can't tell you how great this makes me feel."
"I keep trying to think about Frank," I giggled, "but it's no use, I'm just not the guilty type."
"That's my girl." He started to finger me with his thick, long index and I leaned against him luxuriously, my legs wide apart, my hands roving freely over his hairy chest and belly. Jack was a robust man and I liked nothing better than to feel how hard his stomach was, how strong his thighs were, because the stronger he was the harder he would fuck me. I could hardly wait for him to get started, much as I enjoyed his relapse into teenage love. His finger moved in and out of me just like a cock, but somehow it was never the same. I missed that bulbous head at the top of it, the slap of balls against my asshole, and the depth of penetration. Jack sensed that. "How would you like to sit on my lap?"
"Oh, I'd love to!" Like a happy little girl I bounced up on his lap and hugged him tightly about his neck as he aimed his cock at my pussy. The remnants of the ointment helped to pave the way for his entrance, the battering Uncle Marvin had given me had made me sensitive but loose, and before long he was right up in me and I was bobbing about on his lap joyously.
It occurred to me what a weakling I was. I'd gone to Frank's place to make a full confession and to promise I would never do it again if he would only forgive me. And now I was fucking his father! Obviously I would never be able to tell him anything now. Our lives would begin from tomorrow on. The past, mine and his, would just have to be kept out of it. Somehow that cleared my conscience because from that point on I began to fuck Jack with such verve that his cock slipped out and I almost broke it. "Put it back in!" I panted. "Oh Jesus, it feels so good in me. Quick, Jack, put it in! Aaaahhh, yes, that's better, now fuck me, fuck me, I love it so much. Do you think that's wrong, Jack, for a girl to like sex? I can't help it! Give it to me! It makes me feel so tingly and warm all over, even my toes are curling, I love your hairy chest and your big balls, fuck me, fuck me, tomorrow it's your son's turn so give me something to remember!"
"I will my dear, I will," he said, and suddenly I was on my back and he was on top of me, shoving his cock into me with power. My body was so accustomed to orgasms by this time that it just naturally slipped into one after the other and there was nothing I could do about it. Much as I wanted to give Jack a hot time I could lie under him and submit. It seemed to be enough. He fucked me good and hard and when he came it was with a gush of hot cream that filled my cunt up and spilled more on the seat of his car. He lay on top of me and breathed heavily.
"My son is a very lucky boy," he said, once he'd recovered himself. "You can regard this episode as a father's blessing. That sounds moral enough, doesn't it?"
"You're a devil, Jack," I said, "but I'm glad we got to know each other so well." We shared a cigarette in the back seat, our arms about each other, listening to the sounds of the night. We talked about different things, nothing too closely related to the wedding, though, and by the time he drove me back to my car, we really had become firm friends.
"No one's home yet," he said, checking his garage. "Now you go to bed, Jackie, have a good sleep, and forget about everything except the future. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed me good night and walked away from my car. I drove back home slowly, thinking all the while, and the conclusion of that was that I decided he was right.
Inside my house it was very quiet and very messy. The party had apparently become rough. Empty bottles, full ashtrays, general mess, and a couple of naked, sleeping people. I identified Dora and Eddie, Tim, and Veronica, but they were on couches and looked more than happy. The big surprise came when I walked into the kitchen. There was my mother, stark naked, mumbling to herself, and draped over the kitchen table with dried sperm stains on her inner thighs. She was very drunk. I couldn't leave her there so I hoisted her over my back and dragged her up the stairs, which was no mean feat. We made it to the bathroom and I balanced her on the toilet seat to wash her down. With warm water and soap I got rid of the sperm stains, I gave her face a going over, and straightened and combed her hair. This was more for my sake than hers. I just couldn't stand to see my mother look like that. As a final gesture I gave her a douche.
There was no reason to do this. I think I got carried away with the whole situation. There was my mother, sitting on the toilet seat like a Raggedy Anne doll, her eyes blank and half closed, mumbling incoherently, oblivious to everything. Her body was mine to do with as I pleased, my life-size doll, and it excited me strangely and very deep down. She was a sexy woman even in that condition. Those full, heavy breasts, the ample thighs, the dense bush of pubic hair, the generously proportioned cunt all titillated me, and my decision to give her a douche was probably more sexual than considerate. At the time there was no way of knowing why I was doing it because I'd decided to turn over a new leaf, and so I wouldn't face myself. My mother sat with her legs wide apart and her ass far enough forward to give me access to her cunt hole, and after I'd filled the douche bag and screwed on the nozzle, I slipped it into her and squeezed the bag hard. She didn't react at all to the internal shower. Water dripped out of her cunt, mixed with sperm and juices, pouring down onto the floor to form big puddles. I didn't care.
"Sit up now, Mummy," I said, rearranging her. "That's a good girl. Now keep your legs open so Jackie can clean you all up. There, isn't that nice? Don't you feel better now?" Something like a climax shivered through my body when I withdrew the nozzle. Her cunt was still dripping water from its pink, enlarged hole. Rosy cunt lips were far apart and I found myself gazing at her inner labia, full petals that were swollen through use and abuse. For the moment her cunt represented all of sex to me. Just looking at it set my belly upside down, churning with passion, and my cunt quailed in sympathy. I got a grip on myself and put away the douche, dried my mother off, and lifted her off the seat. She was able to walk a little now, which made it easier to get her on my bed. The master bedroom was closed and several people were snoring loudly behind the door.
I crawled into bed beside her, naked now, and very tired. Sex had to wind down sooner or later, I told myself. Besides, what could happen between a mother and her daughter? I found out as soon as I snuggled up to her naked back. Her big ass pushed against my belly like an invitation and when I rested one arm over her side and touched her big, yielding tits, I couldn't hold back any longer. I moved away so that she rolled over on her back and then I lay on top of her with my face between her tits. For a long time I did nothing more. Just to be between those soft orbs was enough, it calmed me and yet it made me yearn for the rest of her. My lust turned into pure sensuality, an appreciation of her womanly body and her proximity. I wasn't sure if she was asleep or awake and it really didn't matter. Her warm flesh against mine, the feeling of her silky inner lips, her hard nipples, the largesse of her thighs, kept me entirely occupied.
"Jackie? Is that you?"
"Yes Mum, it's me."
"What am I doing here? Oh dear, I must have drunk too much. Your father said I would. Well, screw him. Why do I feel so sexy? Go to sleep, honey, it must be very late." She spoke without opening or closing her mouth, I guessed, because it all came out rather limply. I felt as though I was taking unfair advantage of her but then why should she object? She liked women, and I was a woman. I slipped down between her legs and rested my face on her cunt. It seemed so big to me, so fulsome and cozy, that I wondered why my father should bother with others. My mother shifted a little to open up further for me but that was probably an automatic reaction. She tasted like douche mixture at first but pretty soon the real her came through, tasty, spicy, tart, rich juices that formed a film over my face and trickled down over my tongue, and gave me an insatiable longing for more.
"What are you doing?" she asked, crooning her words. "My goodness, what is happening in this house. Mmmmmmm, it's awfully nice, here comes the bride, big fat and wide, is that you Jackie?" I didn't answer. My mouth was full of cunt, succulent, fleshy, fragrant cunt. It was suffocating and enveloping me, I didn't care what else happened as long as I could keep on eating her out. Her passiveness made it all the nicer because I didn't have to concern myself with her well-being, only my own. As I ate her my hands found her big tits and massaged them vigorously. Her flesh was so soft that it seemed to squelch between my fingers, but I found it could only be squeezed so far before it resisted. Then it was like smooth, firm rubber, possessed of a squeezability that set my teeth on edge and made me want to squeeze so hard that her tits would drop off. I parked my pussy over her shin bone and rode along that slowly as if to keep it on the back burner. The sensations her body provided me with were more than enough to keep the rest of me burning brightly.
Time passed on fleet feet. I lost all awareness of where I was, what I was doing, and what lay in the future. In a way it was like being back in the womb, lost in fluid, surrounded by flesh. My mother snored softly. Not even sex could pull her out of her drunken stupor. All the more for me. I made love to her beautifully and at length, had orgasms by the bunch, and experienced something very few girls ever get to know: true intimacy with one's mother.
I fell asleep huddled up beside her, the taste of her cunt in my mouth, the resilience of her flesh echoing in the palms of my hands. The curtain went down on the beautiful experiment initiated by my cousin Veronica. Tomorrow was the wedding day, Frank would be mine, I would be his, etc.. I snuggled up closer to my mother at the thought of that drastic separation. How could Frank replace all these people? What if he couldn't make love at all? Or what if I was really a dyke. Many such fatuous questions haunted my mind even after I'd fallen asleep to cause bad dreams and a nervous night.
In the morning I felt fresh and clean. My mother woke up soon after me and she informed me that she felt old and ragged. Her hangover had her crawling out of bed to go into the bathroom and run the tap over her head. Other relatives were sitting in the kitchen, hunched over cups of black coffee and eating aspirins. They told me I had missed a great party and I said I'd take their word for that. Somehow this motley, seedy bunch managed to transform itself into smartly dressed men and women before it was time to go to the church. The caterers were setting up shop on the lawn, the limousine was waiting, I was in my special dress, Veronica in hers as befitted the bridesmaid, and the party left the house in a stately manner. At the church it got a little sticky when I had to walk along the aisle toward Frank, seeing on either side of me the people whom I'd fucked so recently, but I managed to keep a straight face. My father gave me away a little reluctantly, I thought, and Tim was cool toward Frank, but my husband didn't notice a thing. He kept looking at me with shining eyes. Was he happy that we were man and wife or did he just want to get into my pants?
The reception went smoothly enough, but far too quickly. I wasn't sure if I could face Frank alone in the wedding suite that had been booked for us. I was afraid I'd break down and tell him everything. No marriage should start on that foot. During the reception I looked at all my former lovers wistfully, yet already there seemed to be some distance between us. I noticed a tendency in myself to stick closer to Frank, to prefer his company to Veronica's or my father's. A gold band on my finger served as a constant reminder of my commitment but that wasn't the reason I stuck with him. It was more psychological.
He looked very handsome in his new suit, self-assured and strong, looking much more like his father than the boy who came begging at my door a few days ago. He showed no signs of eagerness or anxiety, he was charming with my relatives, witty with his friends, and considerate toward me. I didn't know what to make of this but I was glad of it. The reception drew to a close, people gathered at the end of the driveway to wave us goodbye as the limousine took us to the hotel. One night there and in the morning we would leave for Europe. I felt like crying when I looked at all those familiar faces. Why had I given them up for Frank? They could give me everything he could give, and more! Too late. We waved at the receding cluster of people, the limousine turned a corner, and we were alone.
"Well, that wasn't so bad," he breathed, undoing his tie a little and lighting cigarettes for the both of us. "How do you feel, honey?"
"Okay, I guess." I couldn't look him in the eye. What if he turned back into that whimpering boy once we were in the hotel suite? I couldn't live with that. Either he demanded or he didn't ask. We made some small talk about the wedding and the guests but I had to force the words out. I was so nervous that I could hardly breathe! He remarked how pale I was and tried to set me at ease by holding my hand. His hand was big, strong, and dry, not a sign of nervousness. We were ushered through the hotel, into the elevator, and from there into the bridal suite. The door closed behind us and the dreaded moment had arrived.
"Champagne?" he said. A trolley stood near the bed, laden with snacks centered about an ice bucket holding a large bottle of champagne. I accepted gratefully, thinking that this would make me worry less. I couldn't believe Frank's poise. He had taken off his tie and shoes and sat on the edge of the bed wiggling his toes and sipping at his glass. "Ah, lovely. Do you want to eat something? They laid this on so we could stay in bed as long as we felt like it, I think," he grinned.
"No thank you." I took in the decor and wondered what to do with myself. In the end I went over to the bed and sat beside him but there was enough space between us to drive a bus through. "Could I have another champagne, please?"
"Sure. But first you have to take off all your clothes."
"What? Why should I do that?"
"Because I said so." There was an edge to his voice that told me I had better not try to be cute with him. I got up and waited until he'd undone the buttons at the back, then stepped out of the dress and took off the slip, the bra, panties, hose, and whatever else was on my body. Frank nodded approvingly and handed me a refill. I sat down again, so tense now that I spilled half of it right away. If he noticed he gave no sign of it. He downed his glass, set it down, and took off his clothes. But he didn't attack me. He just sat down, poured himself another, and said how lucky it was that the sun had shone on our wedding. I agreed.
"Boy, it makes you tired, though," he said, lying back on the bed and resting his head on the pillows. "I know you expect the honeymoon to begin right away but I'm not sure I'm up to it. Still, we have all the time in the world now, don't we?"
"Er… yes, I guess so," I said lamely. I just couldn't work it out. Was this Frank or an identical twin he'd had hidden away for years? His cock was limp, he looked totally relaxed, so much so that I was afraid he'd fall asleep! I lay down beside him, a bit closer now, and tried to figure it out. He was no help.
Minutes ticked by. He might be dozing, I thought as I surveyed his face. That should have made me feel more at ease but somehow it was much worse this way. He ignored me! He took me for granted on the first night! I would never live this down. Still, if he thought I would try to change his mind he was crazy. I could hold out as well as he could, I would show him. But how did he get to be so calm? What had happened to his hornyness?
"Frank! What happened at that stag party last night!" I said suddenly. I blurted the words out before thinking about it, and I blushed furiously when he just grinned and said nothing. The bastard! Now he was in real trouble with me. My pussy was closed for business, for good if necessary. We lay there like two people from a Feiffer cartoon, not saying a word, not touching, just mulling. My eyes kept wandering over his nakedness, and in spite of my anger I had to acknowledge his beauty. After all those older men it was a treat to be with such a perfect body. The ridges of abdominal muscle, the full chest, smooth skin, bulging muscles in his upper arms, all of it brought out a yearning to touch, taste, and love him. But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Let him come to me!
Was he asleep? How he irritated me! His cock lay there like a sleeping prince waiting to be kissed into awakening. It was so thick and long, so tasty to look at that my mouth began to water. Not only that, but my pussy did the same. Even though he was unaware of me, I began to lust after him actively. I imagined how it would be to touch his fine body, to take that long dick into my mouth and to feel it harden and swell, and to have him touch me. At the same time I tried to hold back emotions, but it was no use. My pussy was dripping wet, my nipples were hard and ached for his touch, and it was all I could do just to lie still.
"Honey?" I spoke softly, almost in a whisper, so as not to wake him if he was asleep. No response. "Frank darling? Are you asleep?" Still no answer. I raised my voice and tried again but he just wouldn't come to. Once again I tried to subdue my rising passion by lying back and taking no notice of his presence. But even when I closed my eyes I could feel his body so near me, sense its masculine power, and my imagination filled in the missing details, such as that magnificent cock. "Frank, please, wake up!" I cried, grabbing hold of him and shaking him. "I must have you, you're driving me crazy!"
He mumbled something and tried to turn over on his side but I wouldn't have it. "No you don't! Wake up, Frank, and be like a husband to me. I can't take it any longer." Perhaps he was secretly drunk. That would explain his new-found cool. With a snort of disgust I let him drop and tried to sort out my thoughts. What the hell, if he wanted to sleep let him. By the same token, if I wanted to make love I would. I took hold of his cock with one hand and rubbed it as though it was a magic lamp, to find it much more responsive than the rest of my husband. A few caresses and it began to swell quickly. But I wanted to feel it expand inside my mouth so I hurried down and took it all inside. It throbbed and grew rapidly, filling my mouth, pushing its way down my throat. Now I could blow him in style. I knew how to relax my throat muscles, how to use my tongue and teeth, and Frank would find out in the course of this blow job that he had married a real woman, one with real needs.
Even though Frank still wouldn't move, the fact that his cock was as hard as rock was enough to spur me on. I gave it my best, closing my lips hard just below his knob and tugging at it, blowing on it, running my tongue in spiral from the tip right down the thick stalk to the hairy base and back, I used my fingers, my cheeks, everything to make his cock feel nice. I felt very happy in my work. My body throbbed in time with his cock, I was as taut and hot as it was, and making love to my own husband thrilled me deep down.
"Hey, didn't I tell you the honeymoon would start later!" Frank sat up and pushed my head away from his stiff cock. "You better learn to do as I say, girl, or there's going to be a lot of friction!"
"Frank, no, how could you!" Now I was really hurt. I reeled back and lay along the foot of the bed in a state of shock. "That's cruel as hell!"
"Is it really? Good, because I want to make my point very clear. I say when we make love and I say when we don't! Now come up here, lie down, and wait. I may change my mind and I may not. It all depends on how I feel." I obeyed meekly but inside I was in a rage. I almost wanted him to turn back into the groveling boy. My body was in a raging turmoil, I'd had a taste of him and I wanted more, more, more! His cock declined slowly, jerkily, and it was like watching a stately vessel sink. I wanted to cry. This was turning into the most miserable night of my life. If only he would change his mind! I was powerless to influence him, however, because I was already naked and I'd already played my trump card by trying to blow him. What a fool I'd been.
"Okay, go back down on me," said Frank out of the blue. "Get me hard and I'll think about it some more."
"Do you mean it, Frank?" I was so relieved and delighted that I actually felt he was doing me a great favor. I went down on him at once and now I treated his cock like royalty! I washed it with my tongue, dried it with my breath, fondled it with all ten fingers, loved it and lavished it with tender care. I kissed his balls, his asshole, his thighs, I rubbed my face against his belly and took his entire cock down my throat to make my muscles pullulate about his sensitive knob, and my enthusiasm was so great that I actually came in the process!
"That's very good," he said, and I noticed that some of the ice had gone from his voice, that it quavered just a little. "But I think my ass needs a bit more work."
"Right away, darling!" With the same zeal I descended to his asshole and poked my tongue deep into the already wet sphincters. I loved his musky, stuffy odor, the hairiness of his cheeks and the surprising softness of his anus. His cock towered high above my face and his balls dangled down, enticing me to lick them at intervals. But I really gave it to his asshole, working my tongue around and inside it until he was squirming with pleasure. He couldn't maintain his front now, he was too far gone. But so was I. In the back of my mind I realized he'd done a number on me but that didn't matter; or rather, it made me all the happier.
When he finally consented to fuck me I was so hot that it only took one good stroke to set me off. I'd had some good lovers in my hectic week, perhaps some great ones, but Frank blew them all away with that first deep thrust. It was as though he'd opened the door leading to a burning room, letting in a burst of oxygen that turned the fires into a roaring conflagration, and once he'd done that nothing could fight my fire but his mighty cock. It entered me deeper and deeper with every stroke, always promising a heavy load of soothing sperm, always withholding it.
But I could wait a little longer. All that mattered to me was that he was on top of me, that his cock was inside me, and that he was in my arms. "Frank!" I moaned, only half aware of what I was saying. "You're the one, there'll never be anyone else!"
"There had better not be!" he panted, driving his cock relentlessly into my cunt, fondling my tits with both hands and occasionally bending down to suck at my hard nipples. "From here on in it's you and me, Jackie, nobody else."
"Oh Frank, that's wonderful! I love you, Frank, do you know that? I love you! Oh, Frank, Frank, it feels so great, you're such a good lover!" Every word came from the heart. In between mountainous waves of passion I thought back over past affairs and they seemed very petty suddenly, just practice sessions for this event. When he came I was completely done, there was nothing left to be satisfied or loved, and the only surviving urge was to be close to the man who had made me feel so great.
We made love often that night. The snacks, as it turned out, came in as handy as K-rations on a forced march. Without them we might not have survived. But before we finally fell asleep I couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a change in my husband's behavior. Was that a natural part of getting married? Surely not.
Late the next morning I heard the bedside phone ring. Frank picked it up and I heard him say hello to his father. The conversation that followed provided me with the answer to my question. "Yes Dad, yes it worked fine… yeah, yes, that's right… she loved it… okay, and thanks again for the advice, Dad." I made sure he wouldn't know that I was awake by turning over and smacking my lips sleepily and snoring a bit. But inside I was smiling. With a father-in-law like that, how could our marriage fail?