"Gobble Gobble" is Part Six of the sexual story of my life. "Trick or Treat, Daddy?" which was posted on 10/30 was Part Five. I am purging my soul. Telling of my past sins is part of my repentance.
All the sorority sisters at that certain institution of higher learning were all packed up to go home for Thanksgiving break.
Usually the really bad weather along the Great Lakes waits until January or February but once every few years we get some horrific storms in November and December. Already over eighteen inches of snow had fallen in less than two days and much more was on the way, according to the weather man. It just wasn't the snow; it was blowing like crazy and the wind chill was about thirty below. Brrrrr!
The airport was closed and the chances of driving anywhere safely appeared to be slim and none. Finally, we sisters all said the hell with it and called our family and friends and told them we best not come home.
"Honey," my dad said, "I miss you so much! Ever since what happened when you came home for my birthday and Halloween, all I do is think about you. And your brother Danny is driving me crazy with 'Is Sis coming home, is Sis coming home?' I didn't realize you two had become so close. And his buddy, Ryan, has a big crush on you. He paid Danny fifty bucks just for a picture of you, the one when you were captain of the cheerleaders."
"Oh, not to worry Daddy. I'll be home for Christmas. I'll wrap me up special just for you!"
I was using the speaker phone and Rebecca, who was my roomie in the sorority house, was listening. We mostly shared everything but I hadn't gotten around to telling her about me and Daddy yet. I didn't know how to approach the subject.
"What's up with that?" Rebecca asked after I said goodbye to Daddy. She looked totally shocked. "Are you fucking your father?"
"Don't be silly Rebecca. We just joke around." She could tell I was lying.
Rebecca started to cry which was unusual because she rarely got upset over much of anything except when her boyfriend dragged her to his bowling league every Tuesday night. He was an older guy and really was into this bowling thing. You know, the monogrammed shirt with "Roger" on it and all that good stuff.
Every Tuesday night the standing joke was "Rebecca, how do you spell bowling? B-L-O-W-I-N-G? You got the 'L" in the wrong place!" We were so mean. What Rebecca didn't like about Tuesday nights was that good old Roger would insist that she suck off all his buddies on the team. He even bought her a bowling shirt for her birthday, with "Deep Throat" stenciled on it.
"Hey, what's the matter girl?" I asked, very concerned. "You're not crying about THAT again are you? I told you, think of it as, well, milking the cows. You're a farm girl, right?"
"Oh no, not THAT. Just feeling homesick I guess. I miss my dad too. We are real tight. She blushed. What are we going to do for Thanksgiving? Shit, we can't even cook."
"We'll think of something to amuse ourselves, don't we always?" With that I kissed her softly and sensuously on the lips. "No time like now to start, right?"
Rebecca had the most incredible breasts, as in almost none. She was the most flat-chested girl I had ever seen over the age of eleven. But her nipples were huge and the tips were over an inch long when she got turned on. She never wore a bra and with her short hair looked like a guy with an AAA battery for a nipple tip.
I slipped my hand up her shirt and began toying with her nipples and the tips got hard as a battery too. She kissed me back and dropped her hand to my waist, unbuttoned my jeans and slipped her hand inside over my panties. She could feel I was already getting moist.
Just then we heard an incredible crashing sound downstairs. "What was that?" Rebecca screamed as we pulled away from each other, startled.
It was the roof of the back sun porch that collapsed because of the weight of the snow.
"We got to call Jim!" we said almost in unison. Jim was the landlord and a real cool old dude. They elected me the one to call.
"Jim, Jim, the roof on the back porch caved in!"
"Is everybody OK?"
"Yeah, but it's really a big mess."
"OK, I want you girls to do something for me. Go up on the roof and shovel all the snow off before more of it caves in."
"Whaaat? You're kidding, right?"
"No, no, please? I'll tell you what, you do that for me and I'll bring over some beer and hard stuff for you girls. Who could I possibly find to go up there and do that on Thanksgiving eve?"
"Hang on Jim," I said and the sorority sisters went into conference.
"No problem, Jim, we are on are way up there. Up on the roof top, ho ho ho! You get your sweet ass over here with the booze."
Actually this was big fun but we all got very cold and very wet very quickly. We were sliding off the roof like sleds into the huge snowdrifts on the ground.
After we got all the snow off the roof and went back inside we all shucked off our wet cold clothes except for our bras and panties and sat by the roaring fire in the wood burning stove in the den. Yeow, that felt so good! Next best thing to getting laid.
We started sipping some brandy and talking about how we should celebrate Thanksgiving. We started talking about the games that girls play.
This was a Catholic institution of higher learning founded by Jesuits that we attended. Over half the professors were priests. The favorite game of the sorority sisters when no boys were around was "Confession." You know, we pretended we were doing our confession. In order to better simulate the real thing, we even built a confessional booth out of huge cardboard boxes we got from a furniture store.
Sandy usually got the game going, one way or another. Her name ended in "ski" and of course her hero was the Pope. I'll never forget the time she asked, "Why do they say the Pope is infallible?"
Angelique, the intellectual of our crowd, responded, "Because he has an everlasting erection!"
Sandy immediately began sending letters of inquiry to the Vatican that started out with, "Dear Pope, could you please have sex with me? I'm no Virgin Mary. If you can't do it now, could you like do it when we are in heaven? I know the Bible says angels don't marry, but it don't say they don't screw."
Of course all of us had to take all these religion classes. The ideas we came up with while reading from the Bible! We had one professor convinced we had acquired ancient Dead Sea Scroll fragments. He came over to the sorority house one night just to hear us read the letters between Jesus and Mary Magdalene. I'm not sure if he really believed our scam, but he sure had a good time that evening.
As we all sat by the fireplace in our bras and panties we reminisced about those Dead Sea Scroll fragments. "Oh, go get them!" Patty begged. "I want to hear them again." Sandy went and got them, read them, and still believes them to this day ...
My Dearest Mary Magdalene, November 19, 0031
I'm happy you tried shaving. It makes me horny (hornier) just thinking about it. Your shaved pussy is absolutely wonderful to see, to touch, to massage and to lick -- it is the ultimate turn-on for me and I can not wait to just look and admire it one again, as it is something I think about all the time.
You complained about the stubble and shaving bumps. Try Magic Powder. It was invented by quite the rascal, Ezequeel, one of the fallen angels. Magic Powder will remove your hair below the skin surface without causing any skin bumps. It will make your hair, when it does grow back, much softer, thinner and less sharp. No more Brillo pads for me!
My Dearest Jesus, November 25, 0031
The Magic Powder worked great! But the angel who brought it insisted on applying it himself with his tongue. What's up with him? He kept making me drink this red milky stuff he called Angeldew. Yeow and what a rush that stuff gave me, and then, well never mind. That Ezequeel sure made me squeal.
The "new" me, now that you solved the stubble trouble, is really cool. And I do mean really cool. It gets chilly down there. Shiver me turkey! That's a Thanksgiving joke and who wants to be compared to fish anyway? I have been going to the tanning booth every day. I forgot whether you like white meat or dark meat so I'm half and half. Hurry up and get back here and warm me up. Sweet Jesus I can't wait!
Love, Mary Magdalene (keeping it smooth just for you!)
Well, we're all laughing, everybody but Sandy. She kept saying she wanted to have a personal relationship with Jesus. Sandy had the world's weirdest suntan and she unsnapped her bra to emphasize that fact. The left side of her body was milky white and the right side was very, very dark. She put a hand under each breast, pushed them up and said, "Look, white meat or dark meat, whatever Jesus wants!"
We were really starting to get in the mood. Wet spots were beginning to appear on panties. Let the game begin!
Sandy always confessed first and she always had lots to tell. She got in the booth. Jayne played priest this time. She always doled out lots of penance. Besides, she was fluent in Latin.
"Bless me Father for I have sinned," Sandy began. "Yeah, and my Daddy knows I sinned! He's the one who made me do it. Like, isn't that a commandment, obey your Daddy?"
"Well I guess so," responded Father (Jayne). "Tell me Sandy, what are you thankful for on this Thanksgiving eve?"
"I'm thankful because, although my dad may not be the Pope, he has a big fat dick about ten inches long and he loves to stick it up my ass!"
"Does it hurt?" inquired Father.
"Only when I laugh!" squealed Sandy.
Rebecca was getting a little irritated. "Sandy, we've heard the story about you and your Polish sausage about ten times already. Now get your fat ass out of that fucking booth. Deborah, you get your skinny ass in there. I want to hear about you and your father. Hey girls, she's been doing her Daddy Dearest. I just know it!"
What Rebecca said didn't even faze me. I wanted to tell! I wanted to purge my soul.
"Father, I played Trick or Treat with Daddy on Halloween, his birthday."
"Why?" inquired Father.
"It was mostly about my mom who died a couple years ago. She was my best friend and soul-mate. My dad hadn't had a woman since she died. I said to Daddy, 'Pretend I'm an angel. Pretend I'm Mom. I miss her so much, don't you Daddy?' Daddy held me tightly and kissed me hungrily and then he called me 'Katherine' as he entered me. That was my mother's name."
"Did you suck his cock?" asked Father.
"I had his cock in my mouth as often as I could for three days. He asked me why and I replied, 'Because it makes me feel closer to Mom. Didn't she do that for you, Daddy?' He looked a little embarrassed and was quite pensive."
"Yes, Honey, but not as good as you. She didn't like to swallow. I'm quite sure mine was the only one that was ever in her mouth. You, I suspect, have experienced more than a few one-eyed monsters."
"Who me, Daddy? As if!!!"
"Oh, I'm just kidding, Honey. I know you are a virgin. Or were until tonight I mean. My one-eyed monster comment was just a Halloween joke. And wouldn't that make an outrageous costume?"
"Daddy, you are so silly!" I laughed and went down on him again.
Just then Father (Jayne) interrupted. She could tell by my heavy breathing I was getting very hot talking about this. "OK, girl, say ten 'Our Fathers' and masturbate."
"Yes!" I cried as I slipped my hand inside my panties and began to tease my clit.
Just then the doorbell rang. Sandy looked out the window and said, "It's only Jim," recognizing his truck. "With our booze I hope!" Jim, the landlord, had seen most of us mostly naked many times before when he was around the place fixing things. He was so old he could have cared less and we paid him no mind.
Nobody even thought about putting clothes on just for good old Jim. Sandy was still topless and went to the door in just her panties and opened it. "Who the hell are you?" she exclaimed in surprise at the appearance of the young man.
"Uh, uh, I'm uh," he stammered as he stared disbelieving at what was before his bulging eyes.
"Spit it out, dude. Who the hell are you?" Sandy continued, demanding an answer.
"I'm, I'm, uh, Jimmy. Yeah, Jimmy. I'm Jim's grandson. He asked me to bring over your beer and stuff and see if you got the snow off the roof."
"Well, get your ass inside. I'm not going to stand here all day at the door almost naked," Sandy ranted and raged as she dragged him in.
So here we have this horny teenage dude sitting around with barely clad older women. Let me tell you he thought he died and went to heaven.
"Hey, Jimmy, did you ever play Confession?" Angelique asked seductively.
"Well, uh, no, not actually."
"OK, get in the booth, and Father will hear your confession," Angelique purred. "And I'm playing Father this time," she stated emphatically and none of us were about to argue with her.
"OK, Jimmy, tell me what bad things you do. Do you jerk off?"
"Well, uh, yeah."
"Do you feel like jerking off right now Jimmy?"
"Well, uh, yeah. My dick is so hard I can't stand it. You girls are totally gorgeous! Much better than my calendars and magazines and stuff."
"Jimmy, you are so sweet!" Angelique cooed. "OK, Jimmy, I want you to open the door to the booth and look out."
He gasped at what he saw. We had all slipped off our bras and panties. His tongue was hanging out and he looked like he was about to have a seizure.
"Jimmy, leave the door to the booth open," Angelique continued. "Take your dick out of your pants."
We were all watching as Jimmy pulled his dick out. He was quite well endowed. He started stroking it. I suppose he couldn't help himself.
"No, no, Jimmy! Not that. Stand up!" Angelique demanded in her most menacing tone.
Angelique poked a hole about three inches in diameter and waist high through the cardboard partition separating the two sides of the booth. She pushed open the door to her side so we could see what (who?) she was doing.
"OK Jimmy, now stick that big dick of yours through the hole." He did. Who wouldn't?
"Now Jimmy," Angelique continued to instruct, "I want you to imitate a turkey as best you can. You go 'gobble gobble' and I'll go 'gobble gobble' and guess what's on the menu for Thanksgiving. You get my meaning here dude? I'm going to give you a lesson in English 101. 'Gobble' as used as a noun means the guttural chortling sound of a male turkey. 'Gobble' as used as a verb means to devour greedily."
Jimmy didn't say anything but he stuck his dick in that hole pretty damn quick. Well, let me tell you, Jimmy did one hell of a turkey imitation and Angelique did likewise. This was incredibly hilarious. You look in one side and you Jimmy with his dick sticking through the hole in the wall screaming "gobble gobble" and imitating a turkey and you look in the other side of the booth and you got Angelique going "gobble gobble" on a big dick sticking through a hole in the wall.
After Jimmy got gobbled for the first time, he decided he wanted to spend the night. We called his grandfather, our landlord Jim, and told him Jimmy drank too much of the beer he brought and best not drive home.
That Jimmy was quite the good sport. He did his turkey "gobble gobble" act all night, right between our legs. From then on Thanksgiving turkey took on an entirely different meaning for the sorority sisters.
The confessions went on all night. Each sister spilled her guts about her and Daddy. Jimmy begged to confess three more times, each time with a different "Father." Otherwise he kept his head down and his tongue out all night. He only paused occasionally to ask each one of us, "Why is your pussy so smooth?" We each responded, "Go ask Jesus." We weren't about to repeat that story!
We all called our fathers again on Thanksgiving evening. Sandy was the only one who asked, "Daddy, I forgot, do you like white meat or dark meat? Oh, never mind, it don't matter. You'll see!"
All the other conversations went something like this ... "Hey Daddy, gobble gobble! And you just wait until you find out what I'm giving you for X-mas! Yes, Daddy, it's still snowing here. By the way, Daddy, your gift from me rhymes with snow job." Click.
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