"Putting Out For Pop" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bangcroft Nan)

Chapter 6

"Mike, if you snap at me one more time like that, you can start looking for a new secretary and a new lay," Joan warned him ominously.

Mike pulled up short at the threat. Joan, in addition to her sexual liberalism, was the best secretary he had ever had.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. He knew what was bothering him. But how could he explain it to her? He was constantly on edge around the house, terrified he might betray to two what he had done with one.

“I’ll forgive you, on one condition," Joan answered.

“What's that?" he asked cautiously.

“That you come over to our place for supper tonight.”

"Oh, no, I don't think so," he stammered. "I mean, not tonight. It's such short notice… ”

"Short notice-bull feathers!" Joan retorted.

"Maybe another night," he suggested. He had the feeling he was losing control of his life. "The girls are expecting me home tonight.”

"They expect you home every night. Micaela's old enough to take care of things. Tonight, or by God I'll walk right out of here, right now.”

"Okay, okay. I’ll call and see if it's all right." He reached for the phone.

Joan leaned over and clamped her hand down on his, giving him a dramatic view of her breasts in the process. "You don't ask them, you tell them.”

Glaring at her, as much to try to intimidate her as to keep his gaze off her magnificent tits, he picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Micaela, it's Mike," he said when ‘Caela answered.

"Mike? Mike who?" she asked, puzzled.

For Joan's benefit, Mike raised his eyes skyward in supplication. "Your father.”

"Oh! Daddy! Hi!”

"Hi, yourself," he said. Joan left the office, then picked up her extension and, disregarding his furious gesturing, listened in. "I'm uncomfortable calling myself that over the phone.”

"Well," Micaela observed in a steamy voice, "I can think of a couple of other ways you might refer to yourself, Stud.”

Mike felt his face turn bright-red. Joan's eyes lit up with surprise. "That's enough of that. What if your sisters heard you?”

"They're not here right now," Micaela said softly. "Why don't you hurry home?”

Mike wanted to crawl into a hole. Joan grinned wickedly at him. "If this phone is tapped, you'll get me arrested, dammit," he groaned. "Cool it, okay?”

"Oh-kay," Micaela sighed. "Hey, what did you do to Patty anyway? She's been an angel.”

"Let's just say that I opened some new lines of communication, via the palm of my hand," Mike answered. "Listen, the reason I called is that I won't be home for dinner tonight.”

"Working late?”

"No. Joan invited me to have supper with her and her husband," he said bluntly, hoping to defuse some of his daughter's ardor.

"Oh.”

"I may be kind of late. Please make sure the young ‘uns get to bed at a decent hour. And tell Patty to wash behind her ears-tell her I said so.”

"Okay, Daddy," Micaela sighed.

Mike saw Joan go off the line to answer another call and sighed with relief. "Look, Honey, I know we had one great time. But we have got to cool it, even over the phone,” he warned softly. "Incest is illegal in this state, and every other one that I can think of. If your sisters got wind of it, they might raise a real stink.”

"Yes, Daddy," Micaela assented, subdued. "You do love me, don't you, Daddy?”

Mike felt his guts twist. "More than I can ever tell you.”

"I love you, too, Daddy," she whispered. "And-and even if it was the only time for us, I'll remember it for as long as I live." She hung up softly. He sat there holding the sweaty receiver. He thought of never having her again, and his crotch knotted with pain. He hung up and dug determinedly into the work on his desk. To his immense relief, Joan left him in solitude the rest of the afternoon.

"Ready to go, Boss?" Joan asked, tying her scarf.

Mike raised his head. He felt a bit dizzy from concentrating so hard. "Oh, is it that late?”

"Later," she answered. "Care to drive me home?”

For a fleeting instant, he debated welching out on the date. "Love to," he answered, shoving his chair back and getting his jacket.

He didn't see how Joan could not have understood exactly what was going on between him and Micaela, but to his relief, didn't say a word about it on the drive. She kept the conversation on the current office projects and problems and acted as if she hadn't heard a thing on the extension.

"Hi, Honey," she greeted the man in the apartment Their hug and kiss made Mike blush and look away. He felt like a traitor, since he had so recently plowed the same furrow in the office. Joan kept saying she had an open marriage, and that her husband knew about what went on at the office. All the same, Mike kept seeing himself as correspondent in a divorce suit.

"John, darling, this is my boss, Mike Kelly. Mike, this is my husband, John Peterson.”

John's smile was open and friendly, his handshake firm and dry and confident "Howdy, Joan's told me a lot about you.”

Mike wondered why Joan was unfaithful to her husband. Peterson was satanically handsome, but not in an unpleasant way. His black curly hair was modishly long. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Mike suspected Peterson had spared him on the handshake.

"I'll get supper started," Joan said. "You two sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

"You been treating my woman right?" John asked as Mike sat down on the sofa. Mike's heart skipped a beat.

"Uh, yeah. At least I think so," he answered.

"Hey, how about a drink? I don't know where my manners are," John apologized. "Scotch okay?”

"On the rocks with a little water or soda would be fine," Mike answered, surveying the modern living room. It was generally neat, but there was a clutter of books and magazines that he found intriguing. Something was missing, and it took him a while to figure out what it was.

"You don't have a television set," he blurted out.

Joan, who had joined them after getting dinner started, laughed. "We have more interesting things to do in the evening than watch the boob tube.”

"Wish I could get rid of mine, but the girls wouldn't stand for it," Mike said.

"You're heading in the right direction," Joan purred.

"Oops, supper's ready.”

Mike felt a wave of relief-John had been about to ask Joan what she meant. Dinner provided a welcome respite from the talk.

"Dig out the good brandy, will you Honey?" Joan asked her husband when dinner was over. "I'll straighten up in here and be with you as soon as I slip into something more comfortable.”

Feeling pleasantly relaxed from the meal, and wondering just what could be more comfortable than a blouse and skirt with nothing underneath, Mike followed his host into the living room.

"Brandy?" John asked, handing Mike a mammoth snifter with a pool of cognac in the bottom.

"Thanks." Mike savored the bouquet, and then rolled a sip around on his tongue. He was at one end of the couch. John folded himself down on the other end and scratched one huge arm lazily.

Mike was feeling warm and mellow from the two Scotches and the brandy. But when Joan came back into the room all the blood in his body began to stampede wildly in all directions.

"I don't know how you can stand all those clothes," Joan announced, stretching luxuriously. She had certainly changed to something more comfortable-she was nude.

Mike gulped the remainder of his brandy, and promptly choked.

"I'll get you some more," Joan said calmly, taking the snifter from his numb, shaking hand. "More, John?”

"In a minute. I think you've got the right idea," John answered. "Come on, Mike, get out of that stuff. You will sooner or later, you know.”

When Mike began stammering and stuttering, Joan cut in. "Mike, didn't you believe me when I told you John knows what you and I have done?”

Mike tried not to look at Joan, and found himself staring at John instead. Peterson’s muscular body was tanned a rich mahogany except for a miniscule bathing suit stripe. His cock was stiffening slowly. He tossed his clothes casually in a corner.

"Everything," Joan said, holding out Mike's fresh drink. "Come on, get up.”

Mike surged to his feet. He was acutely conscious of the monster knot in his pants and the turmoil in his guts. He had an urge to sprint for the door, but didn't.

While he stood there, Joan swiftly and efficiently stripped him.

"Now come on, you two, we're wasting time," Joan announced after giving Mike's cock a fond tickle. She sat on the couch, and motioned to Mike to sit next to her. John took a seat on her other side. She held Mike's cock in one hand while she sipped brandy from the glass she held in the other. "Makes me wish I had three hands," she noted.

John put his fingers on her chin and turned her head and kissed her. Mike felt her fingers tighten on his cock as the kiss went on and on. John slid a hand over and cupped one of his wife's lush breasts. His calloused thumb stroked her brown nipple, made the rubbery bud swell and harden. Mike wondered what the hell the etiquette was in a situation like this. He was naked and aroused. His own pride, and the grip she had on his cock, kept him from fleeing screaming into the night. The sight of John fondling one of her heavy breasts was making Mike's gut seethe with lust. He was itching to join the fun.

Hesitantly, his hand palsied with nerves and horniness, he reached for her other breast. She purred deep in her throat when he brushed her nipple. Then he clutched her heavy jug, and her thumb combed across the head of his cock, smearing his goo over his meat. His belly was ablaze with lust.

With a quick toss of his head, he finished off his second cognac. His senses were swimming from the mixture of lust and alcohol. Joan broke the kiss with John, turned, and Mike felt her mouth fasten on his. As she sucked hard, she drove her tongue deep into his mouth.

"I love being loved," Joan said as she broke the kiss. "And John loves to have me loved, and to love me while I'm being loved. You don't need to understand that, now. Later you will. All you need to do right now is want me.”

Mike's battered brain managed to assemble the thought that she had the evidence of that right in the palm of her hand, but he couldn't manage to get the words out.

"Come on," Joan said softly, standing up, and pulling him toward the bedroom by his prick. Mike went along like a robot. His insides were a whirling hurricane of lust and confusion.

In the bedroom, still clinging to his aching dick. Joan Jay down on the bed with him and pressed her warm, desirable body against his. She guided his hand to her thickly furred snatch. He felt all twisted up inside. Then she managed to obliterate everything from his mind but his aching horniness, and the searing flame in his groin. She fingered his prick and let him slide his finger up into her sticky depths.

Mike barely even noticed when the bed shifted as John joined them. He was nursing on one of Joan's tits. She turned her head for her husband's kiss. Mike kept pumping his finger in her pussy.

When she pushed Mike over onto his back, he yielded easily. He felt a twinge of surprise when he saw John was watching avidly. Then Joan straddled Mike, aimed his cock up into her cunny, and screwed herself down on it, and nothing else mattered but the feel of her hot pussy around his pecker.

John suddenly stood up on the bed and straddled Mike. Joan kept rising and falling on Mike's cock, kept making it blaze like a forest fire. She reached for her husband's jutting, slim pecker. Curling her fingers around it, she leaned forward and closed her lips around the thrusting phallus.

From below, Mike had a view of John's ass, his dusky, hairy scrotum, and his cock vanishing into Joan's sucking mouth. It was an incredible sight and his balls shot out a steaming flow of sperm. The pool in his guts got bigger and bigger as his cock was stroked by Joan's cunt. Reaching up, Mike clamped his hands on her tits, hard. He had to clutch something, anything, that would confirm that what he was feeling was real.

Joan sucked cock, Mike noted dispassionately, in a way he had never seen, or felt. Instead of the usual gross fucking back and forth motion of the head, she let her tongue and lips and fingers do all the work. The sight of her mouth embracing John's cock made Mike's own groin seethe with lust. She fingered the tender underside of the other man's pecker as she rose and fell slowly and gracefully on Mike's cock. He could see the way her tongue was swirling around the head of John's dick, and wasn't sure who was getting the better deal out of the arrangement.

Sliding his hands down from her tormented tits, Mike parted her pussy and found her berry clit with his thumbs. He saw a tremor wrack her torso as she gulped and slurped on the pecker in her mouth. John was clutching her head now, and was guiding her back and forth so his prick slid in and out of her working lips. A dribble of spit and something, oozed down Joan's chin, broke loose and spattered wetly on Mike's chest.

His own hips were bouncing now, jamming his cock into her cunt hard, with quick sharp jabs that made her tits quiver. Joan reached around behind John and dug her fingers into his ass crack. She probed a finger into his asshole as he fucked her face, and she fucked herself on Mike.

Mike felt like he was being shredded by the multitude of sensations. There was the rich scent of male and female sex, there was the sight and sound of her sucking cock, and the feel of his own prick being brought to the flash point by her pumping pussy.

John began to cum. Christ! Mike felt like he was ripping in two. He watched the cock pumping and spurting into Joan's mouth. Deliberately, Joan backed off and showily caught two of the heavy wads on her tongue, then re-engulfed the still spurting shaft with her full, wet, cum-smeared lips. John was staring down hungrily, watching his wife devouring and draining his hosing wang. Below that he could see Mike ramming his cock up into Joan's pussy.

It was all too fucking much for Mike to take. He dug his fingers hard into Joan's steaming pussy, and his prick exploded. He shuddered and jerked, heaved upwards, suspending his ass and the other man's woman in mid air. The head of his phallus tried to bore right up through her. While his nuts emptied a full, thick gooey load into her convulsing twat, Joan was cumming, too. Still swallowing the spit and semen being dumped into her mouth, she shuddered with orgasmic convulsions.

The climax finally broke when John's dick slipped from Joan's mouth and spattered a few stinging drops of semen and spit onto Mike. Joan slumped forward, cuddled down on top of Mike. His shriveling dick was still in her dripping cunt. She kissed him with cum-smeared lips. Instead of revulsion he felt kinky lust stir in his guts as he tasted John's jizm.

For a while they all lay together on the bed in a warm, loving tangle.

Mike felt his cock rising and swelling again, driving slowly and hesitantly into the warm, clutching depths of Joan's pussy. She leaned back and gazed at him with glittering, knowing eyes. When she shifted her pelvis in a gentle fucking motion, John roused and glanced at the two of them.

"Horny bastard, ain't he?" he noted.

"I'd like to think it was due entirely to my irresistible sexuality," Joan noted. "But I happen to know he's got something going with his seventeen-year-old daughter.”

Mike felt his cock start to shrivel. "Now wait a damn minute," he said, intending to deny it.

"Shush," Joan cautioned, putting a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter. In fact, I think it's good. For you and for her." Then she did something with the muscles of her pussy that brought his pecker back to life abruptly. "Bet she can't do that!”

"I wouldn't bet on it," Mike snorted. "No, actually, that's not true. Micaela probably can't, yet.”

"Then Patty can," Joan chuckled, and he felt the chuckle with his prick. "The one you-uh-opened up new channels of communication with. Which one is she, the middle one?”

"Youngest," Mike corrected. "I was thinking more of Gabby, actually.”

"All three of them? Jeez, you are a lucky sonovabitch," John snorted.

"John, just what is that I feel digging at my bottom?" Joan asked conversationally.

"What the hell do you think it is," he asked. "A gopher?”

"More likely a roto-rooter," Joan answered. "Aahh, Jesus, there it goes in.”

Mike shuddered. His cock throbbed and his insides suddenly flared hotter than the core of the sun. Because he felt it, too, against the base of his cock, a sudden pressure that hadn't been there before. His phallus responded with a fresh surge of power. He held rigidly still, afraid to move.

"Gently," Joan whispered, "do it slow and gentle. You forgot to use any grease.”

"I could get some," John noted.

"No, don't leave," Joan moaned. "Oh, My God! That Is So Good," she whispered. Mike could hear the capital letters in her voice.

He gritted his teeth. He could feel John's cock sliding into Joan's rectum. It was a funny, squirming sensation. As John's cock compressed the thin barrier separating Joan's two holes, a pressure slowly slid up toward the head of Mike's pecker. His groin was an overloaded boiler of super-heated steam from the stimulation.

"More," Joan croaked. "All The Way.”

Mike felt as if his cock was being slowly squeezed in a hot, moist vice. Her vagina was being pinched shut around his aching hard-on, which made his cock get even harder.

"Oh, Go," Joan moaned, curling her upper leg around Mike, thrusting her butt out for deeper penetration by John. Mike leaned back so he could get his dick hi further. His legs tangled with John's as the other man wriggled, corn-holed deeper into his woman.

"Oh, John, you filthy, lovely, buggering son of a bitch," Joan growled homily.

"You never call me things like that," Mike complained in a sudden giddy attempt at humor.

Joan convulsed in a near hysterical burst of laughter. The vibrations drummed through her overloaded channels. John chuckled, and Mike felt John's cock leap and jump in its greasy socket.

"Don't cum yet," Joan wailed. "Ahhh, no, please, don't cum yet," she pleaded. "This is so good I cannot believe it. I cannot believe it!”

Mike held still and his dick throbbed with pleasure. John was fondling Joan's breasts, reaching around her, twisting and bruising the lush mounds. Mike leaned back to watch. Then he reached down and explored her dripping slit with his fingers. She shuddered and gasped as he found her clit and diddled it with slick fingers.

"For a beginner, you sure learn fast," Joan wheezed.

"Good teacher," Mike informed her.

"Oh, fuck me," she sighed. "Just a little bit. Just a very, very little bit.”

Mike was agreeable to the suggestion. Very gently, he eased his cock out of her tight tunnel. It felt almost as tight as Patty's ass had felt. It was a lot wetter and slipperier than an ass. He slid his dick back into the tight tube, and held still as his balls throbbed on the verge of unloading.

Then John moved, eased his dork out of Joan's ass, then slid it back in. Mike almost erupted. It felt fantastic, the shifting squeezing pressure as John's pecker eased out and back into Joan's butt.

"Awww, you devils," Joan moaned.

"Don't move, or I'll cum," Mike warned.

"Me, too," John gasped.

Joan laughed tensely. "We wouldn't want that, now, would we? No, not yet, not just yet. You want to know a secret, Mike?”

"What?”

"I love you," she whispered. "But that wasn't what I started to say. What I started to say was that I lost my virginity to my father.”

"Really?" Mike was grateful for the crazy diversion, since it would let the pool of cum in his gut calm down a bit.

"Mum had to go home, her father was dying,*' Joan gasped. "It took months. I saw what an effect I could have on Daddy, so one night I-slid into bed with him. Aaahhh, it was so good! He loved me, and he was experienced, and he was sweet and kind and gentle when he took my cherry. It was like stars exploding and falling from the sky. I don't think I would be so turned-on to sex if it had happened any other way. I was fifteen.”

Mike absorbed this silently, and felt his own guilt at what he had done with his daughters fade a little.

"It lasted a month," Joan moaned. "And the only regret I ever had was that it had to end when it did. Mom came home, and the bedroom door was forever closed to me after that.”

Mike moved to ease a cramp in his leg, and his dick stirred in her pinched pussy. His lust rose again, his cock swelled a little, and Joan sucked in a hot breath. "But, I've made up for it," she whispered. "I've been making up for it ever since.”

"No regrets?" John asked.

"None. I sure do envy Mike's daughters, though.”

"My sister and I had to share a room and a bed,” John mused. "It was a shack in the coalfields, and that was all we had. Mom was dead, and Dad worked in the mines for twelve or fourteen hours each day.”

Mike waited. His gut was aching from the long stimulation of his prick. The confessions were building his horniness as they diminished his guilt.

"I started fucking my sister when I was ten or eleven," John said. "Actually, I don't remember exactly when we started. We always snuggled when it was cold, and it was always cold. Then one night I was in her and it was something unbelievable. We did it every night until I was sixteen. Then Sis got married. I left home when Dad died of black lung. I never heard from her again.”

"Why not?" Mike asked.

"She's illiterate.”

There was a long silence. Then John broke the mood by sliding his cock in and out of Joan's ass. There was a desperate moan from her, and a burst of life from Mike's burned cock.

"Now," Joan whispered. "Do it now, both of you."

Mike began to move, began easing his cock in and out of her hole. As he did, he felt John's cock sliding in her shit chute, massaging his own cock through the strained, squeezed, tormented membrane.

"Awww, my God, it feels like I'm being torn in two," Joan moaned. "Love it, don't stop! Please, please, please, don't stop.”

Mike and John got things synchronized-eased out simultaneously, then drove back in together.

"Jesus! One minute I'm empty, the next I'm full,” Joan wailed.

Mike was approaching the point of no return. His jizm was boiling, building up greater and greater pressure in his groin. As his dick slithered in and out of her juicy hole, he felt John's dork pistoning in her asshole, felt her lush body against his. He fingered her squirmy, juicy clitoris. It was getting to be more than he could stand.

Frantically, not wanting to be the first, he tried to hold back his cumming. Then he felt an odd pulsation from the wall separating him from John and knew that John was cumming. That was all it took. He felt like he was being slowly sawed in two by a red-hot blade as his guts turned inside out in an effort to empty all of his cum at once. He saw Joan's face crinkle into an agonized mask of pleasure as her twat tried to spasm around his spurting dong.

Every time Mike felt his cumming start to fade, he felt John's cock jump against his. Each time it happened it triggered another series of spurts. His cock leaping seemed to bring fresh life to John's cumming. The two of them hosed Joan's guts with jizm, sent her orgasm to the cremation level. Her mouth gaping, her eyes bugging blindly with pleasure, she writhed like a speared animal.

It ended when Mike's pleasure finally became agony. His reservoirs were totally drained. He felt his dick and John's go limp simultaneously. Joan collapsed into a whimpering huddle.

A while later, after Joan had carefully bathed John's cock, they lay on the bed, with Joan between the two men. They sipped brandy and enjoyed a quiet companionship.

"Now do you understand what John and I have?" Joan asked, fingering Mike's dick gently.

Mike nodded. "Yeah. But I'm curious about one thing.”

"What's that?”

"Well, you fuck with me, and he knows it. Does he fuck with anyone besides you?”

"Hell, yes," Joan answered, looking over at John fondly. "He's got a cute little blonde that makes my mouth water.”

"Makes your mouth water?" Mike asked.

"She has got the sweetest, juiciest cunt it has ever been my pleasure to eat," Joan explained, her voice heavy with lust.

Mike felt his cock rise at the thought.

"And then I watch him deliver that lovely cock of his to her pink hole. I lick his butt from time to time," Joan went on. "Jesus, this is getting me horny again.”

“You are a perfect wanton,” John noted.

"Nobody's perfect," Joan said.

"Perfect or not," Mike sighed, "I have to be getting home.”

Joan and John were engrossed in each other. Her hand was fondling his cock, his finger was sliding into her furry nest. Mike felt a tremor of excitement at the sight, then resolutely set the snifter aside and got to his feet. Wearily, he went out to the living room and dragged on his rumpled clothes.

When he went back to the bedroom to thank them for the evening, Joan was on her back, with her legs folded up and her knees flung wide. John was between her thighs. His ass was rising and falling as he pumped his cock into her streaming hole. Mike watched enviously for a moment, then slipped silently away.

As he drove home he wrestled with his own problem. He thought of Micaela and Gabby and Patty, and his guts tightened with desire for all three of them. What will happen, he wondered, when one of them finds out about another?

It might knit the family closer together…

Or, it might rip it into bitter, jealous fragments… ”