Manuscript

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A manuscript from a writing class brings the family together.
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"Is Dad a good lover?" I asked my mother as she stood by the kitchen sink.

"Susan! What a question. Was Mark?"

"Dreadful. Guess that was the reason for the divorce." My head hung low as I thought about the year I'd wasted with him. I did not plan to make such a mistake again.

"Would you get my glasses? They're on my desk."

I walked along the wide hallway over the wide plank floor she had picked out herself. My fingers occasionally dragged along the chair rail that separated the painted portion from the wallpaper. Thoughts of leaving my own home I had worked hard to build and decorate filled my head. The house would have to be sold because of the divorce. Mark still lived there though not for long. I had been back at my parent's home for a few days now and was trying to adjust. I would begin my new job as a clerk in an insurance company in three days, a job I already knew I would despise.

Mom's desk was in the library, a room she treated as her sanctuary, a room filled with books filled with wondrous things. I'd read most of them growing up and because of them, visited many lands and been loved by many men. All of them better lovers than Mark. I scolded myself, "What an ass."

Her glasses rested on a bound manuscript lying upside down. A bookmark stuck from the top a third of the way into it. I could not resist turning it over. The title showing through the clear plastic cover was intriguing - 'And Mary Makes Three', the author even more so - Jason Alexander. "Dad?" I gasped. I began flipping though the pages, reading passages occasionally and gasping.

"Susan!" The voice called from the kitchen as loud as if it had come from behind her.

"Here." I handed the glasses to her and rubbed a hand over her back. "Going to sit on the back porch for a while, looks like there's a nice breeze."

"Your father is out there tending to the roses."

"Good." I pecked at my mother's neck. "Memorial day, nice we have a three day weekend."

--

I leaned back, my hands resting on the gray painted boards of the porch, my feet an unladylike distance apart. I watched my father clip the dead parts of a rose bush away and drop them in a small pile of debris. He waved the clippers. I smiled and waved back.

I thought about the manuscript, the parts highlighted with a yellow marker, the annotations along the margins in mother's handwriting. Mary was my age, divorced, living at home. I knew Mary was a thinly disguised description of me. The bookmarked page especially excited me and had the most yellow highlighting.

"Hey little one," he said in his normal husky voice.

I glanced up out of the visions of the manuscript. He was standing a few steps down watching me between the thighs. He grinned and continued to watch. My knees wobbled side to side. I could feel my nakedness quiver as Mary's had when her parents jointly nibbled along her tanned upper thigh.

"Beautiful." He smiled. "The roses." I knew what he really meant - not the roses. My knees steadied but remained apart as I sat upright. I leaned forward slightly, my upper arms squeezing my chest leaving the cleavage more pronounced. "Am I one of your roses?"

"You are beautiful without needing trimming, only some tender touches are needed." He giggled, blew me a small kiss, and returned to the rose bush with yellow flowers.

I watched and let my mind wander as my smoldering fire burned brighter. "Da-amn-n," I drawled to myself.

I had several boyfriends growing up. Mark turned me on the most and I expected the same level of passion and attention to last. It did not. The gambling and drugs quickly replaced me and his space in bed grew empty and cold. I replaced him with my fingers and an occasional afternoon with Linda. "Ah Linda," I moaned louder than I should have. I glanced around, but no one seemed to be staring. No one seemed to have heard.

I was tempted to touch myself. I needed touching. I struggled. I resisted.

--

"Hey Mom, need some help?" I leaned against the back of a chair by the kitchen table. I watched her bare legs and bare feet extending beneath her skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. My eyes roamed upwards across her slim but shapely hips. I imagined what waited on the other side of her hips under the skirt. I wondered if maybe she was lusting in the way I was.

"You can sit on my face."

I knew she did not say that. "What?" I asked.

"You can set the table for dinner."

"Ah. Okay." I giggled inside my head wishing I'd heard right the first time. I pulled the silverware drawer open. She stood close and I inhaled deeply. She glanced at me. "You can be intoxicating," I told her.

She looked at me again and smiled. "That's sweet." Her look lingered for a moment longer and she turned back to the sink.

I picked out knives and forks. "Spoons?" She nodded and I took out three spoons. I closed the drawer and leaned in then pecked on her neck.

"I was telling your father how nice it is to have you home."

She turned and faced me. Her hand rested casually on her hip. Her eyes were inviting, her lips even more so. I had stood in the same place thousands of times growing up and never felt the same as right now. Maybe it was my experience with Linda. Linda was older than I was but slightly younger than Mom was. Mom's fresh breath blew words across my lips. They were inches from mine and ripe for tasting. I closed the distance and let mine lay on hers for a moment.

"I've been thinking the same thing. It was always nice, but this time there is something special." I knew what, but I wasn't telling. I felt warm from the kiss. I tingled in places.

Dad came back down from the bedroom after a shower and changing clothes. "Hey Dad." I planted a small peck on his cheek. "Some chick magnet you are."

"Dinner in fifteen," Mom told him.

He kissed Mom where I had kissed her. "Time for the NewsHour."

"I'll join you," I told him as I swatted him on the butt.

We settled at one end of the couch, our legs pressed together. "Nice to have my little girl so close."

"Yeah Dad." I stroked the top of his bare leg and left my hand just below the leg of his shorts. We watched the news summary in silence. As the first story began, his hand moved on top of mine. Our fingers intertwined. I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Halfway though the first story, he raised my hand and kissed it before letting go of my hand.

"Dinner's ready, just burgers. Should we eat out here?"

"It'd be fun like old times," he said.

I could feel his breath blow though my hair. I shifted my weight to stand and I felt his hand press on my leg.

"No, you're fine." His lips pressed though the curly brown hair dangling past my ear, just a peck, just a short peck. He patted my thigh and I settled back against him. It felt 'normal'.

Mom passed the burgers and fries in red baskets to Dad and then me. She sat at the other end of the couch twisted so she could watch the NewsHour ... and us. She smiled at me before taking a bite of her burger. In my head, I played some of the sentences I'd read - the idea of both of them taking me aroused me. I could feel the heat between my legs.

"Are you still writing?" I asked Dad.

His mouth was full and I glanced at my mother. "I'm editing his latest now. It is quite good."

"Your mother is too kind. I write mostly for my own enjoyment."

"But Bob, I enjoy them too. I particularly like the descriptions. They are so believable. I shouldn't tell you this Susan, but they are quite erotic at times." She snickered and I could hear him almost choke. He chugged some beer and walked into the kitchen. "You asked if he was a good lover. Well, he is an excellent storyteller. He reads to me to put me in the mood." She giggled.

We heard the door under the sink open and trash rustling against the plastic liner as he mashed it down. "Will be writing," he said as he walked into the hall and down to the room he used as his office.

"So he is a good lover after all."

"Sometimes in bed, imagination is needed when it is a man between your legs."

I was surprised at my mother's candor. A rush of tingles flowed though my pussy.

"Ah, Mom ... have you had a woman...?"

She nodded slightly and left her lips pursed. Her whole being tightened and strained.

"After Mark, I found myself in Linda's arms one night. Maybe I was drunk, maybe I just needed...." I stopped and watched her eyes brighten slightly. "Her kisses were different, better, and the way she went down on me was ... well, you know." Her smile covered her whole face and she nodded.

She inhaled deeply as if summoning great courage. "Marie was an older student in my Advanced Writing class. She stopped by my office at the university one day after my last class. She handed me six pages. 'For a web page,' she said. I promised to read it. 'There are ten other stories already there. I wrote the link down.' She walked away without saying anything else. I read for a while and found myself so turned on I couldn't stand up. I relieved my tension at my desk. I'd never done that at work."

"What about the other stories?"

"I hurried home and read them all before your father got home. Mostly lesbian themes mixed with others. I lost track of how many times I came ... five, maybe ten. It was so satisfying. I was on the edge of another sometime later when he kissed me. I think I almost pulled him down on the floor. He seemed surprised. I was."

Watching my mother reveal a new side of her self excited me as much as the story she was telling. My legs parted slightly and my hand rested high on my thigh. Mom moved closer, her hand now rested just above my knee. Her hand was cool, smooth, comfortable, and my temperature was high.

"A few days later, Marie leaned against the door of my office. 'Did you like them?' she asked in a soft tone while watching me. She closed the door behind her and sat on the corner of my desk with her skirt hiked far too high, things were exposed. I knew I could lose my job. I wanted to experience what was in her stories. She seemed like she did too. We went to her place ... several times."

"Any incest in her stories?" The cat was out of the bag and pussy would not go back in. She was quiet and her fingers squeezed my leg.

"Ah, ah," she stuttered. "Yes-s," she finally forced herself to say.

I said nothing in reply and leaned close enough for our lips to meet. Her lips were inviting and teased mine with her tongue until she jerked back.

"No-o." Her voice was as unsure of what she had just said as what she had just done. I closed the distance she had created and let my tongue forcefully press though her lips. Her hand pulled on my neck as if to keep us together. Her mouth accepted my tongue.

A moment of pleasant kissing ended. She again pulled back and stared at me.

"It's okay," I told her as I stroked her face with my hand. "Linda told me about times with her mother. She showed me books and stories about such things and it's okay, I'm a big girl. I love you. I love Dad."

"Your father...."

I cut her off by placing a finger over her lips. "That's okay too. I saw the story on your desk. It would be nice." As I talked, I found myself again fantasying about her and about him ... and about them. I was aroused to say the least. "I guess you two have talked about this. How do you feel about sharing yourselves with me?"

"Every night for weeks we have role played, talked, teased, and made wild crazy love. We worked closely on his story too. We didn't know how you'd feel about it. We actually weren't going to act on our feelings."

"I'm glad you are."

"He's very nervous about this. I think that's why he left the room."

"Oh-h. It felt nice sitting so close to Dad. I've always thought he was exciting and that you were lucky to be with him."

"You're sweet. If you approach him, take it easy. He sometimes has problems getting it up and he is sensitive about that. I must say lately when we talk about you it does not seem to be a problem." My mother laughed and then pulled my face close for another intense kiss.

--

"What'cha working on?" I asked my father as I stood in the doorway to his office. I smiled and leaned against the door jam with one foot casually crossed over the other.

"Making some changes your mother marked on this manuscript. She catches all my stupid mistakes."

I walked behind him and kissed him on the head. He trembled as he realized I would see the words on the screen. The side of my face pressed against his as I read. "Hmmm, sounds good." My hands slid down his chest. "You know, I like to read about things like that." My hand pulled back up and massaged his nipples. I nibbled at his ear. "Am I in that story?" Another nibble. "Huh, am I?"

"Ah, ah-h," he stuttered just as her mother had.

"Stand up, let me hug you."

He did as commanded. Our bodies melded together. His hands pulled at my back and under my blouse.

"Yeah-h, touch me." I blew the words into his mouth and around his tongue. I could feel the swelling in his pants press against my skirt, against the wetness under it. "Maybe not be able to resist. I don't want to resist." His hand covered my breast over my blouse. I pulled the bottom up and he moved his hand under it. My nipples responded.

He pulled back. "Ah-h ... I want...."

I stared into his wanton eyes. "I do too Dad. I want to share both of you, like in your story."

"Yes. I do too," my mother said as she wrapped her arms around both of us.

We stood in a small circle trading kisses and touching one another. I peered though half closed eyes at his hand over Mom's breast uncovered by the unbuttoned blouse. I added my hand to the other. The group grope continued as hands touched everywhere. Pleasurable sounds began to fill the room. Dad stepped from the shorts I had loosened from his waist. Mom curled her fingers around his cock. Mine did too. I let my pussy cover the head, just for a moment, just for an indication of my willingness. He smiled at me, then at her. Someone's fingers filled me, probably his, maybe hers - then fingers from both filled me.

There was nothing said as we walked in states of partial undress to their bed. I lay on my back as they sat beside me. We were all unsure of what to do, how to precede, whom to do what to whom.

I twisted around so I could hold his cock, then her pussy. "I want you both. I want us all." I took his cock head in my mouth and ran my tongue around the swollen flesh. "Hmmm," I purred with it still firmly inside, my head bobbing slightly with each suck. I could feel fingers exploring me. I glanced and found her face near her hand between my thighs. "Yeah-h," I mumbled and spread my legs wide then pulled one knee up near my chest. The swollen object in my mouth grew larger as he watched her first licks of my pussy.

I was excited all evening, but now I hung close to an orgasm unable to control myself. It was my first time with two others, my first time with my parents. "Yes-s!" The orgasm was intense. My hips bucked and my father yelped as I bit slightly. "Sorry." She did not pause. "Oh-h-h," I moaned repeatedly. His rushing stream quickly filled my mouth and dribbled down my throat. Stream after stream gushed against the back of my throat. I gulped. He groaned. I moaned. Mom sucked. Soon he and I were exhausted.

"I want you," I told her.

"We have plenty of time," she replied. "All our lives ... if you want."

There was little conversation, just most pleasurable sounds for the next hour as we took our times tasting and savoring each other. Soon our needs were satisfied for a while and we lay sprawled across the king sized bed.

"What would it be like?" I whispered mostly to myself, but unknowingly loud enough for them to hear.

"What?" he asked.

"Silly, she wants to be with us," she said to him as she rolled to one side and fiddled with my nipple. Before saying anything else, she dipped down and suckled me, and massaged the breast with her face.

I moaned under the joyous pleasure and felt his finger lightly savor my pussy. "Never end," I mumbled. My hips rocked and my crotched rode his hand forcing a few willing fingers inside my sopping wet pussy. I had never been enjoyed so much and I had never enjoyed so much.

The gasped moan was loud and shot off the ceiling. His fingers continued to stroke and press against my G-spot. Another moan launched our the words, "Don't ... stop!" He didn't and I let him take me places neither Mark nor any other person ever had. "Didn't know...." I couldn't finish as I nearly fainted.

"Isn't that wonderful?" my mother asked. She smiled and nibbled my lips and sucked my tongue.

Weak, I managed to say, "Yes."

"Move in with us," my mother suggested with her head resting on my chest looking along my throat. "We both want you here and the bed is plenty big."

Dad sucked my juices from his fingers. "Stay long enough to know what it would be like. There is no rush to decide." He lay on top of me and a newfound erection slipped without complaint or restriction inside me. My legs cuddled his waist. My hips matched his slow methodical thrusts. I gently came a few times before him as he took his time. His cum roared inside me and his lips rested against mine.

--

The morning light of the dawn hurried around the curtains long before any of us recovered from a night of exploration. Our bodies were sore in places we rarely became sore. Our bodies lay in unusual positions scattered across the bed with the sheets and covers on the floor.

I moved first, them my mother. Dad snored softly occasionally. I twisted until my lips rested against her nipple. It disappeared between my lips and my tongue rubbed it. Her hand brushed my hair from my forehead. "I love you," she whispered. I let my hand wander over her body until my finger played between her thighs. I was welcomed as one leg spread to the side. "It's going to take a long time for this to get old," she told me. I pressed a fingertip inside her. "Yeah-h-h," she mewed.

My thumb and the same damp fingertip rolled her clit around gently and then rolled it against her. "Shhh," I blew over the piece of her. "Let me please you." I leaned down and took it between my lips, and flicked my tongue against it. She bucked and thrust her crotch against my face, just once at first. More sucks and then another thrust. "Yeah-h." The air rushed from my mouth and warmed the heated piece of skin. My hand covered a breast, a finger of the other filled her opening, my lips wrapped her clit, and they all made love to my mother.

Now my mother was nearing another orgasm and my father waited near my hips. His hard cock pressed against my pussy from the back. I wiggled my ass against it and allowed full entrance to my cunt. "Ah-h good-d-d," I groaned. He held my waist and pounded me with powerful thrusts. A grunt flowed from him with each. I lost concentration of what I was doing to my mother. "Yes-s," I shrieked. "Yes-s ... yes-s," I shrieked with each. His cock felt longer as if it would press to my throat. "Yes-s." It filled me as none before. "Fuck-k me-e," I begged knowing I did not need to.

Mom moved so she could watch, so she could hold his crotch, play with his balls, feel my nectar drip. "Fuck our baby," she demanded. "Make her ours forever."

"Yes-s forever-r," I drawled with the next thrust. I struggled to enjoy him without causing him to cum. He continued long powerful thrusts. His hands held me tighter now. His breathing more labored. His grunts even louder. I knew it would be soon. "Fill me!" I demanded. With the next thrust, he blasted me with a massive stream of cum. "Fill me!" The streams continued with each thrust. "Fill me!"

He rested against my back, his shrinking erection still inside my cum filled pussy. Mom stroked his back, his hips, and his balls.

"Wow," Mom whispered near my ear.

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