Janet, Chrissie and Me Ch. 08

The new kitchen table

Sorry, not really going into the actual detail of Mum getting pregnant. You all know how it happens and believe me we did everything possible as you will know if you've read the previous chapters. It was pretty much a foregone conclusion. She took her last pill on the day and from then onward she was totally unprotected.

We continued to fuck hard as she demanded but I did get my way in that I only unloaded deep in her cunt once each day. She teased me something terrible on the way bringing me so close then letting me down slow and painfully. When she finally let me unload she drained my balls totally. We either snuggled up and slept or I waited until she dozed off then crept out and let her sleep while I slipped into bed with either my Mother or Chrissie. That way they could enjoy my morning wood without disturbing Mum too much, hopefully enabling Mum to keep as much of my potent spunk inside her cunt as long as possible.

For the detail of the story so far -- please see Janet, Chrissie and me Chapters 1 -- 7.

Whichever one it was, Chrissie or my Mother, then the other would be keeping Jim warm and cosy. I never felt in the least bit jealous that Jim was sleeping with either, not that I had any right to anyway. They, Chrissie, Mum or my Mother never seemed concerned that I was fucking the others, for the record.

So, on that first Thursday, after fucking my Mother on my office desk, I started on my pictorial diary of our, Mum and I, procreation.

Mum and Chrissie had always been more than happy to pose for me whenever and probably wherever I wanted. I've never actually asked them to pose outside the house, hence the probably. To be honest I found that un-posed worked much better. I somehow managed to grab the basic lines quickly and return to them later, still with the clear image in my head. Working from a photograph, at that time, wasn't an option. Tried a couple once we had digital but found I could only create what I saw and not the image in my head.

So, back to my pictorial diary. The first set was of Mum, naked, holding her pill strip over the toilet pan, the strip halfway between her hand and the pan and the finally her flushing the pan.

Now before you write in and tell me that neither pills nor medicines should ever be put down the lavatory, because it creates havoc at the water treatment works, I'll tell you that I know but the illustration was simply to show that birth control had gone down the pan. I did consider the alternative of Mum throwing it out of the window, birth control defenestrated as it were, but that would be wanton littering, certain to get complaints. All I needed to show was that Mum was deliberately creating a situation whereby she could become pregnant with my child.

The subsequent illustrations became a montage of us fucking in all and every position possible until I was able to draw an image of her with a slightly larger tummy than the one she had in the earlier illustrations.

Mum became pregnant surprisingly quickly. Needless to say I was keeping tabs on her mood swings and periods, neither of which happened. She was a week past when I'd calculated that her first period would happen. I knew it hadn't because I'd fucked her every night and eaten her out for my warm up routine. She'd warned me that I could continue to fuck her through her periods but she drew the line on my going down on her for some reason.

"Is there anything you might need to tell me?" I asked cautiously as the second week after her missed period started.

"You still keeping tabs on me?" she laughed, "I'm late but don't get all excited. I might not come on for months yet. In the mean time, business as usual."

So I continued to eat her cunt and fuck her hard, finally letting Mum go to sleep overflowing with nice fresh spunk each night.

When she missed a second period I also noticed that she didn't seem to be quite her usual self. Nothing terrible, still as keen as ever to take my cock and milk me dry. I popped into Boots, the Chemist, and picked up a Pregnancy Testing Kit. The lady was very helpful, directing me to the most reliable option. Also the most expensive. It was on the kitchen table when Mum came home from seeing a client.

She saw it and laughed as she fished inside her bag.

"Snap!" she chuckled delightedly.

We used both testing kits, one day apart. Mum was pregnant. We went to bed early that night and fucked hard all night without any care that my spunk was pouring out of her poor abused cunt and ruining the bedsheets. I staggered into work the following morning to be greeted with a hearty handshake and a 'well done!' from Jim and a big hug and kiss from my Mother. She followed up with a promise that once Mum had had it confirmed that all was well I could start work on making her pregnant.

That evening, when my Mother was visiting for a celebratory fuck session with Mum and I, I asked for a family meeting, all members. Mum and my Mother had looked a little worried but agreed. We gathered in the conservatory at Rose's on the following Sunday afternoon. We sat. They all looked at me and waited.

"I'm not totally happy with fathering fatherless children as did my Dad," I opened, "there's no paper trail that connects me, in a family relationship, with any of you, including Gerry. There is no logical reason why my children shouldn't know their father. I'd like you to consider putting my name on the birth certificates of my children, please."

There was a silence.

"It would be a bit awkward for you if all of us took you along to the Doctors and said 'this is the father of my child,'" suggested my Mother.

"How awkward would it be for you to say 'this will be my third child and I don't know who the father of this one is either?" I teased.

"Touché!" whispered Jim delightedly.

"And anyway," I continued struggling to hide a delighted grin, "It won't be four. Do you have the same family doctor as Mum? Chrissie won't be having my child for a few years yet and Gerry even longer. It's not like you're all going to produce together in the same maternity ward, is it?"

Jim chuckled. Chrissie smiled and Mum and Mother exchanged glances.

I made the coffees and as I served them up and passed the plate of biscuits around was told I could be the Father of my children if that was what I really wanted.

It was.

Our sex lives went back to 'normal' with sex every day with each of them. Sometimes we even spent the night with all four of us in the bed.

Mum's tummy grew. She positively glowed. Her skin was wonderfully clear, she was happy and content and I captured her blossoming in my illustrations, including one of the kitchen table with two pregnancy testing kits on top.

Life was utterly wonderful and then Alf, Mr. Johnson was rushed into hospital.

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"What?!"

We were in the kitchen. I'd just filled the kettle and turned to find Chrissie and Mum grinning at me delightedly.

"You're gonna be busy Darling!" proclaimed Mum happily.

"Like flies round a piece of raw meat," added Chrissie delightedly, "your piece of meat and it'll be red raw before you know it." she chuckled dirtily.

=== === ===

We'd just returned from Mr. Johnson's wake. It was a very quiet affair. The Johnson's had no other family but each other, all the neighbours in the terrace attended and most of their personal friends. It was all very sudden. Mr. Johnson was feeling a bit 'off colour', went to the doctors for a check up and was basically told to get his affairs in order, tout de suite. I suppose there is no easy way to sugar the pill when you need to tell somebody they have very little time left on this earth.

I've not mentioned Mr. Johnson I know but he was like a Dad to Chrissie and I. He said he'd pretend to be the Dads we didn't have as much as he could. We didn't tell him we had the same Dad, obviously. He used to help Mum with the garden and got us involved as well. Taught us to ride bikes and how to fix them. He showed us how to do simple jobs around the house, change fuses, bleed radiators, clean the windows and mow the lawn. Hanging wallpaper and painting walls and woodwork as well, when we got bigger.

The previous tenants of our house had left a shed at the bottom of the garden with all the gardening stuff and a load of tools inside. Mr. Johnson had taught me how to use them, which is how I was able to make the beds. He'd been very good to us as a family.

I did say that Mrs. Johnson was the local gossip and she was, no doubt about it. If you wanted to know anything she'd be able to tell you, before you even asked. BUT we never once heard her say anything unkind about us or anybody else for that matter. If she'd heard me 'n' Mum banging the headboard against the party wall her 'news' would be that 'Janet has found somebody at last' rather than 'the slut was getting shagged by some guy'.

When we were little she was like a second mother to us. If Mum was out hairdressing when we came home from school she'd take us in and we'd have a glass of milk or squash and a biscuit while we waited. We were treated like the family they never had.

Mr. Johnson was taken in to hospital. Chrissie, Mum and me had been able to visit Mr. Johnson anytime we liked and were all there the evening before he passed away in his sleep. Chrissie and me also said a few words at the funeral. We were all going to miss him, especially now as we'd just it confirmed that Mum 'n' me were going to become parents. Mr. Johnson would have totally enjoyed that.

=== === ===

"What are you two talking about?" I mumbled as I set about getting the teapot sorted.

"Every female gave you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek at the wake, including Chloe and Siobhan and they're only thirteen!" laughed Mum, "you're going to have to be very careful with them. Keep them at bay until they're of age then enjoy them both together".

"Whoa! You're telling me to fuck them as soon as they are old enough? I can't do that I've got you and Chrissie and Rose to look after not to mention Gerry, when she's old enough. Why would I need or even want them as well?"

"While you're waiting for Chloe and Siobhan you'll have to look after the others including Molly," interjected Chrissie as if she'd not heard a word I'd said.

"Molly? Mrs. Johnson? She's got to be in her 60's why would she be interested in me?"

"I hope you're not expecting me to have no interest in a good stiff cock when I'm 60 my lad!" declared Mum with a laugh.

"Well... no. You're err... different" I responded lamely, thinking I was stepping out onto very thin ice again.

"Different? How so? Because I've got your baby growing in my belly? I'm planning on taking your length anywhere you want to put it until I'm too weak to open my mouth or my legs for you. Anyway it's not a case of 'want' it's very definitely a case of 'need'... Think about it...

Your baby is growing inside me. Every female at this afternoon's wake wants your cock, you'll have to get used to that. Don't argue. Me, Chrissie, Rose and Gerry all know and understand the effect you have on women even if you don't. They will know, sure as God made little green apples, that this baby is yours. Some will be jealous that it's not them carrying your child. Others will be jealous that I'm enjoying your cock and that Chrissie probably is as well. They'll want a piece of your action.

With me having a second child outside marriage we'll need all the help we can get or at least no animosity. It'll be a while before we can afford to move even with your income. So, if they come offering make sure you not only accept but also ensure that they have a good time and know they are welcome back if they want more. Understand? We need them on our side for the foreseeable future."

Put like that and by Mum and very ably supported by my Sister I couldn't argue, so I didn't.

"OK, if you say so it is so," I said, promptly putting it down in the furthest depths of my mind and hoping it would never see light of day again.

=== === ===

Kitchen tables are generally used for the preparation of foodstuffs and the consumption of same. Sometimes they might be used for mending punctures in bicycle inner tubes. Kitchen tables are all roughly the same height which makes it easy for manufacturers in the same way that counter tops are the same height so that white goods manufacturers can make their products to fit beneath. It's simple logic.

Our new kitchen table is a bit large for the size of our kitchen. It is also very sturdy. I think it's called a pioneer table design. The legs are two large 'X''s with a heavy lump of wood holding them apart. The top is thick and solid.

If you've been following us right through from chapter 1. you'll know that Mum likes to experiment with positions when we fuck. A trait, I'm happy to report, that her daughter has followed. We'd fucked on the dining room table many times but the centre of our world is the kitchen. The kitchen is were we live, relax and simply hang out. We don't fuck there, until very recently. We tried, Mum 'n' me and Chrissie 'n' me even my Mother 'n' me but the old, Formica covered kitchen table was just too wobbly and I wasn't prepared to risk it falling apart while we were in the throes of passion. A replacement was required. Mum said so.

If Mum said so, as above, it was so and I would build it to her specifications, as I had the beds. That was decreed also. Mum wanted it right and what she wanted particularly right was the height. Strength was a given. It must be exactly the right height so that my cock could slide easily into a cunt without me needing to bend my knees too much nor stand on tippy-toes. These additional movements only being required when experimenting with angle of penetration.

I had turned the existing table over to see how it was constructed and found that metal plates held the unit together secured with bolts and wing-nuts. I pointed it out to Mum.

"Yeah! I used to get fucked on it by your Dad way back when, that's probably why it's loose and wobbly."

I tightened them up before putting it back on its feet. Mum climbed up, gingerly. I dropped my trousers and boxers and we tried it out.

"You're taller than your Dad, got longer legs. The angle's not quite right. The table needs to be a bit higher and a bit longer. My head hangs off the end. We need a table that we can lay on comfortably"

We used back numbers of Hairdresser's Journal under each leg, being careful to ensure that the table remained level and stable. Mum climbed up and we assessed the situation, I slipped my cock into her wet cunt. A couple more editions under each leg and we were set for a through testing. Mindful that only four bolts held it all together I fucked her more carefully than I might have done. That being said she was still shouting out her delight when Chrissie came home fifteen minutes later.

"Is that safe? What are those magazines doing?"

Easing my cock out of Mum's cunt I helped her to sit up then lifted her down. Mum explained what we were doing and why then told Chrissie to get her kit off and get on the table. It had to be right for her as well. Chrissie stripped eagerly and I lifted her onto the table and helped her get into the right position. Standing between her parted legs I lifted her ankles high and opened her legs wide.

"Guide me in Sis,"

With both hands on my rampant cock she guided my cock head unerringly into her hot hole. I slid in effortlessly.

"Ohhh, that feels soooo very good Bro. I should end every day's work in exactly this position."

"Give it a good workout, Darling, while I ring your Mother," Mum instructed.

I worked Chrissie's dripping cunt over gently but firmly. She wasn't pregnant like Mum but I still didn't want the table collapsing beneath her. Of course I had to wait for my Mother to arrive so had plenty of time to experiment with the knees bent and being on tippy-toes.

"Geeez Bro, I love this position. How come we've not tried it before?" she sobbed after her umpteenth orgasm.

"Because... Hi Mum, you were quick!"

"Janet said that you were carrying out important spacial arrangement experiments and if I wanted any input I'd better get here pronto."

"Eh?"

"You're trying to get the right height for the table so that your cock fits nicely into all our cunts," she laughed and started to strip.

"Then why didn't you just say so?" I teased while sliding my cock slowly out of Chrissie's swollen hole.

I crouched down, blew cool air onto her pulsing redness then kissed it better while my Mother finished stripping. Despite Mum being pregnant 'my slaves always naked in my presence' continued to prevail whenever practical.

"We need something to sit or kneel on of the right height too," observed Mum, "stay put Chrissie."

Chrissie had no energy to move and just laid happily as instructed while Mum pulled the 'elephant's foot out of the broom cupboard. She slid it over to me. I duly squatted, dipped my head forward and ran my tongue up Chrissie's cunt.

"Ahrrrrr!"

"Seems to be just about perfect," I observed nonchalantly, "Mother, you ready to be experimented on?"

I assisted an exhausted Chrissie off the table then my Mother on. She raised her legs automatically. I took hold of each ankle and she guided my cock head to her greedy cunt perfectly. I thrust home quite hard. The table moved, just a little. I stopped instantly, withdrew my cock, helped my Mother down and got under the table to tighten all four wing-nuts.

"I'll need to find a better way of fixing the legs to the top," I said to nobody in particular.

Back in position my Mother took a good hold of my cock and guided it home. With the wing-nuts tight again I thrust hard making her squeal with delight.

"Way t'go Ryan, fuck your Mother!" encouraged Mum enthusiastically.

"That's the way to treat your own Mother Bro, hard!" added Chrissie encouragingly.

It felt good. Mother was dripping. My cock was like an iron bar, my balls were tight and full of fertile seed and my Mother was demanding more and faster. It was such a comfortable position I could go on for hours if necessary. I chopped and changed my position. Raised and lowered my hips and swung Mother's legs left and right and still retained my self control as she raced from climax to climax. I only stopped because my Mother begged for a rest. I slowed and eased my still hard cock out of her abused cunt and, as I did with Chrissie and should have done with Mum I bent and kissed her swollen cunt softly.

"Hold up Ryan, try a chair!" suggested Mum as I went back for another, loving son's, kiss on the swollen cunt lips.

The chair appeared and I sat, kissed her again and sat up.

"Too high. Perfect for clitty but awkward for getting right down and dirty.

Taking hold of Mother's ankles I raised them high, spread them wide and dipped my head between.

"Nope, definitely too high. Can't get at her bum enough to make it exciting, agree Mother?"

"I do Son, try the elephant's foot again."

I squatted and licked from halfway up my Mother's arse crack, circled her anus before probing it gently with a hard tongue then up to the base of her cunt. Zigzagging my tongue up between her pulsing lips I drew her clitty into my mouth and sucked lovingly.

"Ohhh fuck! That's incredible," gasped Mother ecstatically.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," chuckled Mum, "Chrissie?"

"Fabulous Mum! Way, way better than the dining-room table and just what? Three quarters of an inch higher. What did you think?"

"Yeah, much better than I remember and as you say, loads better than the dining-room table. So we're agreed then? A new table that high?"

"Just a small point," interjected my Mother, "Ryan's fucked all three of us to our total satisfaction and he's still fit to fuck some more. It seems to me that we could be spending a lot of time on this table enjoying Ryan's cock. Maybe we should think about having a cushion under our bums? Try it now to see if we need more adjustment?"