After Brenda, Marcia and I had cleaned up, we went onto the back deck, where Francine had set out a lemonade for Marcia, and hard ciders for Brenda, herself and me.
When we sat down around the fire pit, Francine was smiling sweetly at the three of us. “God, Darrell,” she pronounced, “I loved the way you fucked both of George’s girls today.” Brenda and Marcia chimed in, “We loved it too, for sure.” I had to agree. “I bet I loved it better than all three of you.” I postulated. The three women laughed aloud at that.
Francine began the rest of the family story: “Darlin’” she began, “now that George and Norma are on their way home, I have to tell you the rest of the family secret, like George said I would.” I already knew Francine and her brother George had been fucking since Francine was in junior high school. I also knew there had been a short couple years after Francine got married and George married Norma that the sexual intimacy between brother and sister had stopped. However, I had no clue about the things Francine was about to describe.
It seems that Francine’s first husband had been a world traveling salesman for a Chicago based international construction contractor when they got married. A few years after the wedding, before Francine’s daughter Caroline was born, her husband was sent to Scotland on a major project for 18 months. During the first year of his absence Francine remained faithful to him, but when he came home at the end of the year only to tell her he would have to stay in Scotland for another six months, she started feeling all alone. When her husband returned to Scotland, Francine resumed her ardent sexual affair with her brother George. In the beginning they were careful, but as time passed their fucking took on a more abandoned style, often with Norma’s participation, and about a week before Francine’s husband returned from overseas, Francine discovered she was pregnant.
As soon as her husband was home, Francine began making love to him every night. After six months or so, when Francine was showing a very large tummy, she introduced him into a foursome with her brother George and George’s wife Norma, who had given birth to Brenda during Robert’s time in Scotland. Robert found the sexual mixture to his liking, and never suspected he was not Caroline’s father, even though Caroline looked a lot more like George than she did like Robert. Until that moment I never knew that both Brenda and Caroline were George’s daughters. That was the next to the last secret.
Finally Francine revealed that Caroline has lived with George and Norma while she was in college. I already knew what a sex bomb Caroline was from fucking her when she visited us earlier. In the end I was not very surprised to learn Caroline had been fucking George with Norma and Francine’s full approval, and that Kelley, whose young and eager body had given me such pleasure just a few weeks before, was also George’s child. So now the truth was all out: George and I had both fucked four of George’s daughters, George’s sister, wife and mother in law.
Everyone in the family knew about everyone fucking everyone, and everyone approved and enjoyed the fun. As time wore on, however, it wasn’t going to be all in the family.
The school where the family had planned for Marcia to graduate high school used to be a religious girls school, with the whole faculty made up of nuns. Five years earlier religious enrollment had declined greatly, and the nuns converted the school to a private non-sectarian girls academy. The school provided excellent academics, but when enrollment started to lag again last year, the nuns decided to open classes to boys and girls, and become co-educational. When Francine and Brenda took Marcia to the headmistress to enroll her, they delicately explained Marcia’s nymphomania to the former nun in charge, and told her Marcia had to be home on time for her “treatments” each afternoon after school.
When the quarterly parent-teacher conferences were scheduled that fall, Francine, Brenda and I all went that evening to find out how Marcia was doing. After learning from various of Marcia’s teachers that Marcia was earning top grades, we were in the parking lot getting ready to go home when the headmistress came out to talk to us. Her name was Margaret Mason, since she had dropped the “Sister” form of address. We had met and spokes with her a few times at earlier school events. She was wearing the faculty version of the school uniform – a pleated plaid skirt, a white cotton blouse, and a camel colored blazer with the school crest on the pocket. “Darrell,” she tentatively began, “I would like to take half an hour of your time this evening to speak about a matter you may be able to help us with, concerning the recent change to co-ed classes here. Ladies,” she continued, turning to Francine and Brenda, “If it’s all right with you, I can drive Darrell home after our conference, so you two can go on ahead right away.” Francine and Brenda agreed, and drove off. Margaret led me to her office on the second floor of the school.
Margaret sat down behind her desk, and motioned for me to take one of the two chairs facing her. “Darrell,” she said, ‘this will be a delicate discussion, and a confidential one. Please promise not to share it with anyone but your wife Francine, Marcia, and Marcia’s mother Brenda.” I nodded in agreement. “I’m sure you are aware,” she began, “that schools and school faculty are mandated reporters, and that we have an obligation to disclose to proper authorities sexual matters involving underage students here.” Yes, I know that,” I replied. “Good,” she continued. “Brenda and Francine have told me Marcia is already 18, so her conduct in such matters is no concern of ours. When Marcia enrolled, her counselor and I were made aware of her nymphomania, and of your promise to her dad to make sure Marcia was sexually satisfied every school day afternoon at your home. It seems that arrangement is working out quite successfully for Marcia, according to all reports from her teachers about her progress.”
“May I speak with perfect candor?” Margaret inquired. “Yes, of course,” I answered immediately. “OK,” she went on, “I have given a lot of thought to our change over to co-educational classes. I know all the former nuns on our faculty are inexperienced in matters of se between teenaged high school students, and they are asking me for guidance. To put it plainly, since you are fucking Marcia every afternoon, I think you are the best man to help us out in this regard.”
“How do you think I can be helpful,” I asked smilingly. Margaret smiled back broadly. “Some of us on the faculty have spoken about viewing pornography to get better understanding of sex than we have had as nuns,” she replied, “but others have objected that merely watching the sex act would never fully teach what sex feels like We eventually decided that we need a man to fuck us as part of our sex training. Fuck us, perform oral sex on us, and other things teenagers might do with each other. We discussed who might be helpful, and I agreed to ask for your help, and see if I thought you could be the man for the job. Francine, Brenda and Marcia have all given their assent.”
“In that case,” I responded, “I’ll agree to whatever you ask.” Margaret stood up and removed her blazer, hanging it over the back of her desk chair. She took me by the hand and led me to an upholstered love seat in one corner of her large office. “I have overheard many conversations among a few of our older girls about ‘making out and other such,” she told me as we sat down close to each other. “I’d like to feel what it is like to “make out” with a man while not wearing any bra or panties under my uniform, and then get fucked.” She said in a matter of fact tone. “Will you start kissing me and let me se what it is like?”
Margaret put her arms around my neck, and lay her head on my shoulder. “Darrell,” she whispered in my ear, “I have watched various scenes on my computer over the last few days. Now I want to find out what sex feels like.” She leaned up to kiss me, and I put my mouth gently over hers, pushing my tongue between her lips. We exchanged wet French kisses tenderly for a few minutes. “This feels so nice,” Margaret whispered. With that, I began rubbing my right hand over the cotton fabric of her blouse, caressing her left breast gently. When she sighed t my touch, I slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse, and pushed my hand inside. I gently ran my thumb across her right nipple, and felt it hardening under my caress. I pulled the tucked in blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, and spread the front of the blouse, exposing both her ample breasts to my view.
I continued making circles with my thumb around her left nipple, while beginning to suck on the right one. I began sucking harder as she thrust her chest against my face. I put my hand on her left knee, and barely touching her skin, teasingly ran the nail of my index finger upwards toward her crotch. She spread her legs wide for me. When I reached her cunt lips, I could feel a few droplets of moisture forming there. I pulled my hand out from under her pleated skirt, and pushed two fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them greedily. When my fingers were quite wet with her saliva, I put my hand back underneath her skirt, and pushed the two wet fingers slowly inside her pussy. She gave a deep sigh. With my thumb rubbing her clit, I felt along the upper surface of her cunt wall for the raised, sensitive spot I knew would be there. When I found it, I began teasing it with my fingertips.
I felt the warm, moist juices of the headmistress flowing across my palm. She must have felt it too. She withdrew her arms from around my neck, and unbuckled my belt, reaching inside my jeans to find my erection. She held my cock in one hand and spit profusely into the palm of her other hand. She began slowly stroking up and down the length of my shaft. I felt my cock throbbing and swelling between her palms. Then Margaret lifted the hem of her pleated skirt all the way up to her waist. “Fuck me now, Darrell,” she pleaded.
My hard on was wet with her saliva, so without undressing I pulled my fingers out of her and pressed the head of my dick into her pussy lips. I felt it sliding slowly inside her. She instinctively thrust her hips toward mine, and let out a whispered “Oh!” as I touched her cervix and began slowly fucking her. She was savoring each sensation as I picked up the pace of my stroking. By the time I was ready to ejaculate, her body was letting its juices flow freely, and her hips were meeting each of my strokes. “Margaret,” I whispered, “you are going to feel my cum spurting inside you now.” “Yes, please, Darrell,” she whispered back. “I want to feel your cum in my cunt.”
When I finished ejaculating inside her, Margaret and I lay peacefully together on the office sofa for a few minutes. She broke the silence. “Darrell, that was sensational,” she said aloud. “There was nothing bad or unpleasant about the sex. My body feels wonderful, and I enjoyed fucking you and talking dirty with you. If it’s OK, I’m going to take you home, so we can talk about this with your three women.”