Greengages Ch. 02-03

Copyright © merf68. Please respect copyright.

This is a work of fiction continuing the story from Greengages 01. Any similarities to people or places is purely coincidental. It contains material of explicitly sexual descriptions between consenting adults and includes the following categories:

F exhib, M/F, M/F spank inc

If any of the above are not to your liking may I respectfully suggest you look elsewhere for your entertainment.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story.

~oOo~

Chapter Two.

They spent the rest of that lovely evening drinking, mainly wine. George puffed up his pipe and the parents told their children of some of the more memorable times they'd had at Greengages, with each of them sparking off reminiscences for the other.

"Once we had a birthday party for your mother. Everyone came," said George, starting another anecdote. "17 couples, some with their older offspring, and a couple of singles -- but we don't get too many of those. She," he pointed at Sarah who had a lovely grin on her face, "She said, and I quote, 'For my birthday, I wanted to be screwed until I beg for mercy and then screwed some more. I want to pleasure you all.' God, she was amazing. She took on all comers, all day."

"I was so sore, I slept alone for a week," she took up the story. "All day the men and women served me marvellously. Fucking my every orifice, spraying me with sperm. The women were taking deposits of sperm in their pussies then sitting on my face so I could have a real sperm-fest.

"It was about midnight when I cried 'Pax' but Bergitta ignored me. I don't think you know Bergitta, she's the daughter of Norwegian friend of Tom's. They spend several months in England every year. Well, about 11 o'clock at night Bergitta strapped on a double dildo and settled herself between my thighs for a long session. She just got a glazed look in her eyes and a mechanical rhythm in her hips and kept that prod driving in and out of my pussy, occasionally she'd pause to judder in private orgasm.

'Enough,' I finally begged, 'Please, no more.' Bergitta pulled out, almost annoyed with me for breaking her reverie, she turned me over, slapped my bum hard and sank the dildo into my back passage then continued her steady pace with jerky interruptions.

"She continued for about half an hour then slowly withdrew, turned me onto my back again and kissed me. 'Thank you so much, Sarah. I really needed that.' She called your father over to me and suggested he put me in bed. I was covered in dried and drying sperm, in my hair, my face, my tits - why do men like to come on our tits? - but just too exhausted to clean myself up. He tucked me into bed and crept away, leaving me to my memories and dreams of a wonderful day.

"I regretted it in the morning. My whole body was raw. Daddy came and carefully washed me down in the shower, then brought me some breakfast after putting a clean nightie on me and changing the bed linen. Believe me, I needed all the pampering I could get. Would I do it again? No, but I sure as hell enjoyed the experience.

"Then there was the time," their mother continued, "when your Daddy tried something similar. He promised to give all seven available women three orgasms each. He finished his Herculean task by bringing me off with his big toe. I kid you not, with his big toe! I kept getting fits of the giggles and he'd have to start again. When I finally came he just rolled over and fell dead asleep."

They continued through the evening telling tales about Greengages and what Trish and Mike could expect to see. "Don't be surprised," said their father, "if you see women getting together. Or men! There are several bisexual people there."

Mike asked, "Do you two walk down that path?"

"Well," said Sarah, "you've already heard of me and Bergitta. Yes, I like sex with women. Get three or more women together and we start heterodyning off each other. Lovely: it can go on for hours! And I'm told your Daddy sucks a mean dick."

Their father smiled at some happy memory then said, "Give a little, take a little. It all adds seasoning to the sauce."

As the night fell and the sun disappeared behind the western hills, they gathered up their things and made their way back into the house and on to the bedrooms where they all changed into warmer clothing against the cool of the night then regrouped in the lounge. George stacked some cds of light classics and they continued the conversation indoors as if there had been no break.

They were all drinking quite heavily and Trish had just poured myself another glass of wine when she heard the strains of Ravel's Bolero coming from the sound system. She crossed the room, turned the volume up and started dreamily dancing around the room, sipping at her drink, her inhibitions relaxing with each small crescendo of the compelling music. Soon her movements were becoming erotic and her spare hand was sliding over her breasts, down over her tummy and round to her bum but she wanted both hands free.

She noticed the tumbler in her hand was still more than half-full. She poured the rest into her mouth, swallowing as much as she could, uncaring of the rest flowing down her chin and onto her blouse.

Still swaying to Ravel's hypnotic rhythms Trish giggled something about her blouse being wet and she should take it off. She tried to do it sexily but by then she wasn't really co-ordinated and those little buttons were too damn tight so she finished by ripping the blouse apart and throwing it aside. A sly smile came to her face as she moved in front of her father, thrusting her breasts at him as she reached behind to unhook her bra. Removing it she made her naked breasts sway enticingly in front of her Daddy's eyes but when he made to touch she backed away again. Standing just out of his reach she lifted her breasts as if offering them to him but always denying his hands.

Tiring of this game she stood in front of her mother and encouraged her to stand and dance with her. Trish slowly stripped Sarah and, when she had her naked, she started kissing down her mother's body, finishing on her knees kissing her Mummy's pussy. But she was so inebriated she needed her mother's help to stand again and thanked her with a smoochy kiss before completing her own disrobing, still to the rhythm of the Bolero and wondering if she could last the full fourteen minutes of that tune.

Mike, meanwhile, was enjoying the show his wife was putting on, even her faltering movements seemed somehow sexy. Spying the wine bottle in the ice bucket she grabbed it and started pouring the contents -- about half a bottle -- into her open mouth, allowing what she couldn't swallow to cascade over her body, massaging it into her heaving breasts. When the bottle was empty she brought it to her mouth and simulated fellatio for a minute then held the bottle to her already erect nipples, pressing the cold glass hard into them. She slid the bottle over her tummy and started slithering the body of the bottle along her pussy lips before inserting the neck between the lips and slowly masturbated with it.

But it wasn't enough for her, she wanted filling properly so she pulled Mike down to the floor, flat on his back and opened his flies to reveal his standing prick. She straddled him, guided his tool inside her and fucked him, still keeping time to the music. As Bolero came to its final crashing chords, Trish arched her back, shuddered, called out a long, protracted, "Oooooh ..." and fell dead asleep on top of him. They had to carry her unconscious body to bed.

Chapter Three.

As Mike and Trish lay cuddling together the next morning, she made him tell her what had happened last night as she didn't remember much about her exhibition. He asked her if she was happy with the way things had developed and she enthusiastically assured him she was. "Even Mum sucking me off like that?" he asked, obviously a little unsure of her reaction.

"That was just soooooo sexy, I was leaking buckets just watching her go down on you. And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." With that she moved her head down to his limp tool and started sucking it back to life. When he was fully primed she pulled him on top and ordered him to fuck her. He did just that and she had a lovely come just as he filled her with his juices. And if he was thinking of his Mum at the time, she reasoned, that's OK, he made me happy.

Later Mike emerged from the en suite shower still drying his hair. He jumped back into bed but Trish urgently needed to go to the toilet. After she had showered she re-entered the bedroom without bothering to cover herself to find Mummy and Mike sitting up in bed. The covers were down to their waists and Mummy was naked as far as she could see. Her mother opened the bedding and invited her to get in beside her, confirming her state of undress. "Daddy's bringing us a cup of tea," she informed us. Almost as if on cue, Daddy opened the door and came in with a loaded tray. He almost looked comical with his manhood dangling beneath the tray.

After serving all with a welcome cuppa, he sat on the bedside cabinet next to his daughter, there being no room in the bed for him. They started talking some more about Greengages and George reminded us, "Don't forget, Greengage Rules will still apply here until we leave. Oh, you'll find the Johnsons there today -- and the twins - among others." He paused. "I think you should know that the Johnsons are a close family. Very close."

Here Sarah joined in, "This is something you'll get used to. It's nobody's business but theirs. All our women use contraception so there's no chance of children -- you do use contraception don't you, Trish?" Trish confirmed that she did so her mother continued, "We have a few families who play together at Greengages." She smiled then turned to her daughter, "Here's something for you to think about: what if Daddy made a pass at you? You don't have to say anything, just something to think about."

Mike had his arm around his Mum's waist and was idly playing with her breast: she had her hand under the covers and from the movements it was obvious she too had found a toy. That left Trish and her Daddy. She jumped out of bed, grabbed him by the flaccid penis and dragged him off to his bedroom on his toes. At the door she paused and called back to her husband and mother, "Enjoy yourselves." They were in each other's arms and kissing before Daddy closed the door behind them.

Trish towed Daddy to his bedroom and pushed him back onto the bed, being just a split second too late in releasing his tool which made him squeak. She jumped onto the bed beside him, took his tool into her mouth and thrilled as it quickly expanded and touched her throat. When he was fully engorged she sat up, grinned at him and said, "Daddy, you can consider I've just made a pass at you! Now what?"

"Now what, Patricia? You're a very naughty little girl, Daddy will show you 'now what.'" Oops, Daddy was upset, she thought, that's the only time he ever calls me by my full name. He grabbed her by the wrists and threw her over his knee then proceeded to give his daughter's bottom a firm, business-like spanking which had her squealing and squirming against his firm grasp. And randy as hell. He then held her bending over the bed, took aim and plunged his tool into her copiously leaking pussy from behind.

Her scream wasn't with pain -- well, maybe a little -- but out of sheer pleasure. Each long, deliberate stroke stirred in her depths as he pulled almost clear then rammed home again deeper, she thought, than she had ever been penetrated, using her hips for purchase and banging his body onto her tender bottom. Trish was hovering on the fringes of cloud nine the whole time until he finally thrust every last fraction inside her and her own waves overcame her in time to his pulsed emissions deep in her pussy.

When they were both spent he lay back on the bed and turned her so her leaking pussy was over his face then pulled his daughter down and started cleaning and licking out all the sperm he had just deposited. Now that was something she would have to teach Mike! She also loved the scratchy tickle of his moustache on her sensitive pussy. Daddy's softening tool was in front of her so Trish returned the compliment and cleaned him off, relishing the mingled taste of his sperm and her own juices as Daddy's ministrations brought her to sweet heaven twice more.

Cuddling up afterwards -- she did so enjoy that 'after-love' cuddle -- Trish confessed to her father, " I don't like being spanked and if anybody else -- even Mike -- tried it with me he'd sing soprano for the rest of his life. But with you, Daddy, it just seemed so right and downright sexy. Now why should that be? I wonder, yet you could spank me again anytime! (But more and harder next time, please Daddy.)"

Daddy said to her, "Are you happy about all this, Trish? And Mike? I mean we've come a long way since you asked about spicing up your love life."

"I'm loving it so far and seeing Mike with Mummy, I don't think he's doing any complaining. And you, Daddy, could have had me any time since I learned about sex, but you never even looked at me that way."

"Oh, I looked," he said with a wry grin, "but I was always careful not to let you see. Your mother knew and she often had to 'take care of me' in private after you had pranced around in your bikini all day, I swear you did it to tease me." She nodded and grinned her confirmation. He continued, "She was happy to go along with my fantasies. She would call me 'Daddy' and loved it when I called her 'Trish' and 'darling daughter' as she lay beneath me or across my lap taking your spankings. We both agreed it would have to be your call but I've wanted to spank that bottom of yours since you started changing shape."

"You can spank my bottom any time you think your Patricia has been a naughty girl, Daddy. I can be a very naughty girl." She put her arms round his neck, spread as much flesh on him as she could, and kissed him, wondering if perhaps she could persuade his lovely penis to come out to play again.

"Now, don't you think it's about time we try to catch your Mummy and Mike in flagrante delicto?" He asked, breaking the kiss. "We need to start getting ready for the day. Are you looking forward to it, daughter dearest?"

"I suppose I'm a little nervous, Daddy, but yes, I want to try it. This ..." Trish patted the bed, "has helped me lots." They exchanged a friendly unhurried kiss before they rose.

As they opened the bedroom door they saw Mike's bum going twenty to the dozen with Sarah on her hands and knees getting royally shagged, doggie fashion -- and obviously enjoying the action by the sound of the squeals. But he was on what he always called 'the vinegar strokes' and was soon grunting as he filled her pussy. They rolled apart and she turned and sat up on the bed next to him, her face wreathed in smiles which turned to a grin when she saw that they had had an audience.

"Hello darlings," she panted. "Where have you been hiding this stud, Trish? He's an animal!"

"Catch your breath, lovers," said George. "We need to get ready: this little girl," he squeezed his daughter's tit, "is raring to strut her stuff!"

"Do we have to right away?" asked Sarah wistfully whilst idly toying with Mike's soft and sticky tool, hoping to bring it back to life.

"Been there, done that, never got the tee shirt," mused Trish. "Same result from Daddy this time round."

"Yes, we do!" retorted George in response to his wife's plea. "Now move your insatiable arse before it gets spanked, wench."

"Looks like you've already done some spanking, my dear, by the sight of poor Trish's bum. What was that for?"

"I was a very naughty girl," Trish said demurely, but neither she nor her Daddy elaborated any further. Nor did they ever in future.

"OK, give us a few minutes to get cleaned up and we'll be down shortly." Sarah jumped off the bed and back to her own room followed by George, leaving the Trish and Mike alone.

"Did you and Dad ... you know ...?"

"Did we fuck? Go on, Mike, say it." Trish was feeling outrageous.

"Did you and Dad fuck?"

"Mmmm, yes. If Mummy hadn't already claimed him, I'd divorce you and marry Daddy," she teased, then kissed him to show she didn't mean it. The kiss turned amorous until Mike pulled away, calling her a nymphomaniac and telling her to unhand him and get dressed.

Not much later they were all in the kitchen tucking into cereals with cold milk and chilled orange juice. At about 10:30 they piled into George's car and were on their way: her excesses of last night were only partly responsible for the quivering in Trish's tummy and Mike was feeling similarly nervous.

~oOo~

Look out for the next installment coming soon.

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