It Ain't No Joke

He was physically drained; his now-limp dick dropped from Beryl's funbox and his body fell aside. He was not totally surprised by the next moves.

"Mama," morose Marcia, pleaded, "you just got a fresh supply! You always told Megyn and me to share, and I've told my kids to share, so you should share that with me! C'mere now!"

She tugged at her mother, who spun and dropped her dripping cunny to Marcia's face. Both slurped energetically. Limbs entangled, they rolled, and rocked, and rolled again. They showed no signs of slowing down.

Marcia was atop their 69 now. Willard, witnessing the wild women, felt his cock regain vigor. Marcia lifted her face to take a breath, and glanced at her son's resurgent rod.

"Willy! You're not done yet! Get back here and fuck me! Let your balls bounce off Mama's forehead! That'll serve her right!" She dove back in for more cunnilingus.

Willard rarely disobeyed his mother's orders and was not about to begin now. He knee-walked behind Marcia, positioned her legs for access, carefully avoided pulling Beryl's hair, and fucked into the portal through which he had entered the world so long ago.

They made sounds. Wap-wap-wap of thighs on buttocks. Slap-slap-slap of bloated scrotum on forehead. Ungh-ungh-ungh of exertions. Ohh-ohh-ohh of female orgasms.

Time passed. Willard was ready to deliver again. Uh-uh-uh and spew-spew-spew... and Beryl pulled her grandson's prick from her daughter's pussy and took him into her mouth, vacuuming the last of his vital fluids down her throat.

That final shot was indeed his last for now. He moved aside and watched their endless writhing 69. They showed no hint of slowing down. He shook his head, rose from his bed, and staggered to his shower. No need to jerk-off behind the shower curtains now.

Cleaned and dried, he came back to his cellar space. Damn, they were still at it! He pulled on shorts and a tee and went upstairs... might as well watch some TV. The Twilight Zone marathon was well underway when he heard Grandma Beryl's clean Vespa putt-putt away. He gave his mom time to clear out of his room and head for her own bath. I gotta change the sheets, he thought.

=====

Dinner was a little skimpy and late, and so were his sisters, but that was okay, nobody whined. All drank jug wine with their microwaved pizzas and bagged salads. All seemed distracted. Willard felt eyes looking at him, then averted when he glanced back. He felt... used. He ate and drank quickly, rinsed his tableware, and escaped downstairs.

He sat at his untidy desk and reviewed his chemistry notes. What exactly had he used for his card-painting pigments? He thought that was the only common link. Girls he had drawn joke cards for this year had smiled at him. Women who touched the cards he painted jumped on him and each other. What was it?

He pondered the puzzle. He drew chemical diagrams, listed properties, calculated probabilities, reached hypotheses, and shivered with tension.

He heard the phone ring upstairs. His mother called down to him, "Willy, it's Sandi on the line for you."

"Thanks Mom," he yelled back, and picked up his ringerless extension phone.

"Oh baby," Sandi enthused, "I'm at the gym with my brother Karl and the team." Karl was a hulking fullback on the college football squad. "I was helping some of them with classwork and I opened your joke card. It's beautiful! And funny! I passed it around, and everyone really enjoyed it. They all seem excited. The whole team wants to come over and see you. Is now a good time?"

What, those macho, muscle-bound turf-burners had touched his pigments? He had a bad feeling about this, no joke.

===== The End? =====

Author's note: This unlikely fiction, muchly written on an Android tablet, is copyright © 2021 by Hypoxia Smurf. Constructive comments are always welcome. If you like this 2021 April Fools Day Contest entry, join the 1%ers and VOTE, dammit!