Serendipity 04: Our New Lives Continue

tagIncest/TabooSerendipity 04: Our New Lives Continue

IV. Our New Lives Continue
I drove home, reluctantly, that Monday morning and tried to prepare myself mentally for the prospect of being separated from my new old love for at least the next five days, and possibly longer if her class work was especially heavy. I felt a pang of emptiness as I drove into the garage, alone, and went into a house that so recently had been filled by our love — and our lust — but was now empty.
I won't dwell on the maudlin details, or describe all the mundane things I did to fill my week. At least, work kept me physically and mentally occupied, and I took advantage of all my now-extra time to work more intensively with Ben, my chief project manager, on plans for new business possibilities.
But, to my amazement, Friday rolled around, as it always does that time of the week. All the late hours I put in with Ben allowed me to check out early and leave for Janey's about 1:00 in the afternoon. Making the drive alone seemed to take forever, and yet I was there in no time.
I went to their apartment and knocked, … and it was Lauren who greeted me at the door with a full hug and a big, warm kiss. "Matthew — I've missed you! Janey thought she could go out and pick up some things before you got here, but it looks like you made great time." She hugged me again and led me by the hand to the dinette table. We talked about school and classes, about the weather, and the fact that Paul couldn't get away from work early so he'd arrive later and we'd all have dinner together.
And not a word about our night (and morning) together the previous weekend. It wasn't necessary, I guess.
By that time, Janey struggled in with armloads of necessities, and also treats for the weekend. We helped her unload onto the table, and then we wrapped our arms around each other and held on. We just held tight and rocked each other back and forth. Finally letting go, we stepped back and looked at each other, and there were tears in our eyes.
"Hey, hey, cut that out, you two — no crying here! If you're gonna cry, I'll have to send you to your room."
We laughed. A fate worse than death! But instead, we put things in the kitchen cabinets, poured some soft drinks, talked and caught up. It probably looked like any other parent weekend visit with their college-student children.
Paul did make good time. His reunion with Lauren was much like ours, except this time it was Lauren whose eyes teared up and who we had to make fun of. Paul and I both did a little freshening from our long drives, then we all went out for dinner at the Char-House. Despite not having reservations, we only had to wait about 15 minutes to get a table for four. While the Char-House is known for its steaks and chops, as the name would imply, they also do great fish. Paul had the pan-seared rainbow trout, Janey had the grilled salmon, and Lauren and I, the baked scrod. Vegetables, no desserts, drinks back at the apartment.
After our dinners had settled and we treated ourselves to nightcaps. Janey and Lauren had assembled all the fixin's we'd need for grasshoppers. In addition to the crème de menthe and crème de cacao, Lauren supplements her grasshoppers with a little brandy, resulting in a seriously adult beverage.
And with the taste of mint ice cream and the gentle buzz in our heads, we said our 'good nights' and drifted off to our bedrooms.
In one way, I was surprised. There was no uncertainty, no awkwardness. In fact, it was almost like Erika Jong's mythical 'zipless fuck' — like the ones in the romance novels, where there's no fumbling with fasteners or tangling undergarments, where the lovers' clothing just magically disappears, "like dandelion fluff."
And once again I was united with my baby girl, and my lover, my girlfriend, my pride-and-joy, my — everything.
Let's not get too romantic or lyrical. After the clothes 'magically fell away,' we licked and sucked and fucked the shit out of each other. We made the near-mistake of trying to re-live everything we had done the previous eight days together, and — let me be honest here — it almost killed this old man. But, as the saying goes, what a way to go!
We took the break we so desperately needed and went out to the kitchen to get some juice. We no sooner got there when Lauren and Paul came — staggered, really — out of Lauren's room for the same purpose. And I realized — while Paul and I shared a very intimate set of connections, we had never seen each other undressed. And yet it seemed okay. We sat around the table, comfortably naked, the remainders of sex juices visibly drying on all our bodies, sipping lemonade, talking, all the while silently taking in how good and how fortunate it was for the four of us to be here, together, like this.
After enjoying this interlude, we went back to our bedrooms with renewed purpose. This time the loving was slow and tender, and we took the time to enjoy the contact, and the feelings, and the very fact that we could be together.
It was maybe the third weekend I drove down that it happened.
We were sitting up in her bed, reading, when Janey said, "Daddy, there's something I need to tell you."
The words — and the tone of voice — hit me immediately — the knot in the stomach, the coppery taste of fear in my mouth. Pressure seemed to be building in my head. I waited.
"Daddy, you know that sometimes I'm going to want to be with Paul."
And there it was. My 'special relationship' with my precious daughter was apparently not so special after all. It was like a punch to the gut.
Janey had anticipated the effect this "news" might have on me:
"Wait — listen to me, Daddy. Whatever you're thinking, it's not that. Paul is a beautiful, wonderful man, and he's very special to me — and he's special to us, because he's responsible for you and me being — the way we are. And I love him because of the way he cares for Lauren." (I was just now beginning to understand the extent of the bond between my daughter and her roommate.) "It doesn't mean that you and I have anything less. It's just that Paul and I are close, in a very important way, and I don't ever want to lose that. Please believe me — it won't change how you and I are."
I calmed down a bit from my initial panicked response, but I still felt, well, sick. Janey went on:
"You know, Daddy, when Paul and I are together, that means that Lauren will be alone. Daddy, you're too modest and, well, too shy, to see it, but Lauren likes you, Daddy — a lot." She looked at me and gave me kind of a teasing smile, "And from some of the remarks she's made, I get the impression that the sex is pretty good, too."
And it was then that I remembered Lauren's words the night we were together: "… one more thing — this isn't going to be the only time for us."
"Trust me, Daddy."
I did — sort of. But I was still skeptical. If I'm being honest, I have to admit — I was scared.
And so, maybe every fifth or sixth night we would end up with "the other one" — Janey with Paul, and I with Lauren.
I have to tell you, the first time, it was rough for me. When I saw Paul and Janey walk into her bedroom and close — almost — the door, I was afraid that I'd lose it completely and start, well, start sobbing. And I was in no condition to make love to the tall, beautiful young woman who took my hand and led me to her room.
But Lauren knew what to do — as she always seems to.
"Matthew, it'll be all right."
She continued to hold my hands as she went on.
"Matthew, when we proposed that Dad make love to Jane to help you get together, we knew we were taking a terrific chance. But, somehow, we also knew what we had between us, and that Janey loved me, and that she respected what Dad and I have. And we were as sure as we could be that if you and Jane got together, that you two would have what Dad and I have. Don't worry, Matthew. What you and Jane have is safe, just as I'm sure that what Dad and I have is safe."
And for the first time in what would turn out to be many times over the years to follow, she put her long, willowy arms around me and held me, until the world looked better. Good enough, in fact, that I was eventually able to enjoy love with this amazing young woman.
And Janey was right (as I was beginning to learn, she usually is). She returned from her night with Paul, happy and satisfied — well, very satisfied — and, I can't really explain it, but it seemed like we loved each other more than ever. And Lauren's and my night together — and the many other nights, and mornings, and afternoons that followed — did not in any way seem to diminish the deep feelings that she and her dad had for each other — nor did it diminish the number and intensity of the sounds that would emanate from their bedroom during their reunions!
Sometimes Paul or I couldn't make it for the weekend, and both girls would spend the night with the one who came. Other times, when one of the girls was 'unavailable' — away for an interview, visiting a friend, or perhaps sick or just feeling under the weather — Janey or Lauren would benefit from the attentions of both Paul and me.
Through these occasions, we all became familiar with the possibilities that threesomes brought. The girls, though by no means 'lesbians' in the sense of being attracted to women, sure loved sex, and they enjoyed kissing each other, sucking and teasing nipples, eating pussies, and inserting fingers and even hands into each other, as well as sharing the tongues, cocks, and hands of any males who might be present.
When one of the girls was unavailable, the other got to enjoy the attentions of two very horny men. And before you ask, yes, this included DP — double penetration — one cock in the cunt and one in the ass, maybe taking turns. Lauren even perfected the art of having two pricks in her cunt, and she usually went wild once Paul and I got our routines coordinated. One time, when all four of us were there, Lauren had told Janey about how amazing this was, and Janey insisted on seeing a live demonstration. She didn't participate (that time), but she masturbated herself furiously the whole time, and it was clear she was very interested.
But that also involved something you might have figured out by now: two cocks in a single pussy requires that the two cocks be in contact each other. More than 'contact' — they slide against each other for an extended period of time, ultimately climaxing together and bathing each in the other's semen.
This fact also did not go unnoticed by Janey and Lauren, who thought it incredibly hot and sexy. In fact, the day after one of these sessions, Lauren remarked, "You two certainly seem to enjoy watching us mess around with each other and sample each other's juices."
They had obviously worked this out before, because Janey followed up immediately with, "Maybe you and Paul should consider that we might enjoy watching you."
Paul and I knew that once these women set their minds on something, it could end only one way. The details of that way were yet to be determined, but we didn't doubt what the final outcome would be.
One Saturday night, Janey was on her laptop computer. "Here, come take a look at this. It's a video that a friend of Lauren's emailed her."
It featured two young women, dressed as cheerleaders, in what appeared to be a gym locker room. One beckoned the other over and reached into an open locker and pulled out a can of Reddi-wip, or something like that. First, she squirts a blob of whipped cream onto her tongue and shows it off. Then she has her friend open her mouth and squirts a dollop onto her tongue. Then she pulls the friend's cheerleading jersey up and over her head and quirts a generous layer of the Reddi-wip on each tit, then spends a lot of time licking and savoring it. The girls share a tongue-y, creamy kiss.
And you just knew where this was probably going. And, sure enough, the first girl kneels on one of the benches, and the other squirts a little right on her asshole and rubs it around (and licks her finger, of course!). And, with the cream as a lubricant, she shoves the nozzle into her friend's upturned asshole and proceeds to give her about a ten-second squirt, until the cream is actually oozing out from around the nozzle.
Then she puts the can on the bench and sticks her face right between her friend's now-whippedcreamy cheeks and rubs her mouth around and licks, until the first girl can't hold it any more and lets loose with a nitrous-propelled blast. The second girl makes sure she gets a good dose of the sticky cream on her and spreads it all over her face and tits, and the two girls press up against each other, then back off and go crazy licking and kissing each other.
… and when I looked up from the screen, I heard Janey.
"What do you think?"
While I had been engrossed in this cute little performance, Janey had removed her zip-up sweatshirt and baggy track pants to reveal a cheerleader outfit (a little short for her, and I vaguely remembered hearing her ask Lauren one time, "Do you still have that cute little cheerleader outfit you wore to the Tri-Delt costume party?"). And in her hand, she was waggling a can of Reddi-wip back and forth.
"How about it sport? Up for some delicious, nutritious cream? Here, stick out your tongue."
I did, and that was the start of what was basically a replay of the video I'd just watched. Janey pulled the jersey off over hear head and squirted generous amount of the whipped cream onto her tits and lifted each one toward my mouth, then held her arms back and let me rub my face in each luscious, creamy tit, and then sucked and licked her hard nipples until they were clean.
Following the "plot" of the video, Janey grabbed a large towel that was conveniently nearby and tossed it over the bed, then got on her knees on the bed and flipped her cute little pleated cheerleader skirt up, pulled down her red satin thong, and looked back over her shoulder at me.
No mystery here. I first bent over to lick Janey's proffered asshole (something I find myself doing a lot anymore), then gave it a squirt with the whipped cream and massaged her asshole with the creamy, oily mess.
"I'd rather have your cream, but that'll be later," she winked.
I carefully guided the plastic nozzle into Janey's relaxed, brown-and-creamy white asshole, and I pressed.
"How much?"
"I guess 'til I can't hold anymore."
And after about eight or ten seconds, the whipped cream began to ooze back out around the nozzle, so I stopped.
She looked back at me. "Ready, Daddy?"
I leered, "You bet," and put my face in between those sweet, muscular cheeks and began to lick. But after a few seconds of that, I guess the pressure was just too much for Janey and she let loose with a big, gassy, creamy blast that simply covered most of my face with the sweet cream that had been in her ass just seconds before. That first one was followed by four or five more whipped cream farts, until she was finally empty.
She turned around on her knees and grabbed my head and just smeared her face all over mine, 'til we were both covered, and we licked and kissed and nibbled each other until most of the cream was gone from both our faces.
"Ready for the real thing, Daddy?"
She got back on her knees, grabbed the whipped cream can, shoved the nozzle into her asshole and gave it a squirt, then took it out and squirted a little curlicue onto her asshole, then said, "Now, Daddy — fuck your own personal Dairy Queen!"
Of course I was already hard — had been since I first looked up and saw her in the cheerleader outfit! I slid into her ass with almost no resistance — whipped cream apparently makes a superb lubricant — and began to take long, lingering strokes, so I could savor these new, oily sensations in my daughter's snug rectum.
In addition to rocking back and forth to meet my strokes, Janey started in.
"That's it, Daddy, fuck your little Dairy Queen. Use your little whipped cream whore. That's it — give it to her."
Well, you know how it is. Once she started talking like this to me, it wouldn't be long. I started to pound into her ass, and I soon began to experience the familiar warning signs. I reached around her to finger her clit — which was wet with the liquid cream that had leaked down from her ass — and I was able to hold back until I felt her hips start to jerk, and then I let go in what was the biggest cum I've had in a long time.
I leaned forward onto Janey's back, and she lay flat on the bed, and we stayed that way, still both enjoying the novel feeling of my cock in her slippery, creamy ass.
I finally slipped out of Janey and rolled over onto my back. And then, for the very first time ever, Janey bent down and took my cock, shiny with two kinds of cream, and put it in her mouth. This was the first time that she had taken my cock directly into her mouth after it had been in her ass, but it wasn't the last time she took a cock from her ass — or Lauren's — and put it into her mouth.
Also, from that day on, there always seemed to be a can of Reddi-wip in the back of the fridge. And, yes, I also learned what it feels like to have half a can of whipped cream squirted up my ass, and to have my insanely sexy daughter suck it out of me.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how most of Lauren's and Janey's remaining years at the University went. Paul and I would drive down to stay on weekends, or we'd drive the girls home over breaks or between University terms. After their junior year, we all decided that the girls would attend summer session, Janey to pick up some extra courses that would help her, Lauren to pick up one extra course as well as make up a course she needed but had missed.
One night, a week after Janey had spent the night with Paul, and I with Lauren, Janey was apparently feeling playfully malicious, because after she had stroked me to a serious erection and I was just about to slide into her, she began to tease. In a little-girl tone of voice, she told me:
"You know, Daddy, Uncle Paul asked me to be his whore."
"He did?"
"Yes, and he told me that if I was his whore, he'd buy me some pretty clothes, like blouses and tops that would let people see my nipples, and a skirt that barely covers my pussy."
"Do you like clothes that show off your slutty body?"
"Oh, yes! And he said he'd buy me shoes — six-inch platform heels — red, to match my new skirt. And he said he'd do all kinds of filthy things to me."
All the time she was telling me these wonderfully dirty things, she was also frustrating my efforts to insert my cock into her, pressing her thighs together, crossing her legs, twisting away at critical moments. This tease was driving me crazy. It was also incredibly exciting.
"What kinds of things, Princess?"
"Well, he said that he would take me to clubs and I couldn't wear any panties or bra. And he'd finger my pussy under the table so everybody could see what kind of slut I was. He'd pull open my blouse and squeeze my titties 'til I squirmed."
"Ohhh — that sounds dirty. Would you like doing that?"
"Oh, yes — it makes me so wet. Can you feel me getting wet, Daddy?"
"Yes, I can feel how wet you're getting."
"He said I could dance with whoever asks me — a man or a woman. And when we're dancing they can touch me anywhere and he wouldn't mind. He said they could put their hands on me, and squeeze my titties, and put their fingers inside my pussy, even if it made me come right there on the dance floor."
"Does that turn you on?"
"Oh, yes! In fact, I almost came while he was just telling me about it. But he was shoving three fingers in and out of my cunt while he was telling me, so maybe that was why. Anyhow, he told me he even knew a bar where motorcycle groups go, and if I wanted, he could take me there in my new clothes."

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