Magnus and His Family Ch. 09

"You're really a very naughty man."

Magnus raised his eyebrows as he continued to knead Jenna's shoulders, back, and bottom.

"Am I?" he said blandly.

"You are," she said severely. "First you seduce my daughter, then you—you do this to me!"

"You didn't like it?"

"That's not the point! It's just very, very . . . naughty."

But the absurdity of her words, and of the whole situation, struck her forcefully. She started to giggle uncontrollably. Magnus added some chuckles of his own. But he didn't wish to be too flippant.

"I've never done anything to your daughter that she didn't want me to do," he said soberly.

"I'm sure you haven't," she said, somewhat mollified. "But you did take her virginity?"

"Only because she wanted me to."

"But—but how did she even get to know you?"

"Well, of course my own daughter, Kristen, introduced her to me."

"Naturally," Jenna said triumphantly, as if proving some point. She was getting a little angry again, as if thinking: So your daughter is some kind of procuress for you?

Magnus had a general sense of what Jenna was thinking. "Ma'am, Adele is a very sweet girl. But I think she was a bit—frustrated."

"Meaning what?" Jenna said with a glint in her eye.

"Well, to be blunt about it, she wanted a man."

"And you were conveniently there to step into the breach?"

"Kristen thought I would be a good person to introduce her to—you know, intimacy."

"Ye-es," Jenna said slowly, "and I'm sure you thought so too."

"I won't deny that Adele is very appealing. But Kristen only thought it would be a one-time thing. And so did I. I've always been urging Adele to find someone of her own age—that would be a lot better in the long run. But it seems she's become, well, quite attached to me."

"You mean she loves you?" Jenna said, as if it were an accusation.

"It would seem so," Magnus said humbly.

Jenna continued to peer down at the big man. He was such a study in contrasts! Massive but gentle, immensely strong but kind and tender, obviously dominant but also unassuming. She didn't know what to make of him.

But his continual stroking of her—including her massaging of her bottom, whose firm curves he seemed to find fascinating—were having an effect both on him and her.

Her eyes flashed as she felt a stiffening in his groin. "You—you want some more?" she whispered.

"Yes," Magnus said simply, then added, "I was wondering . . ."

"Wondering what?"

For some reason he felt the need to whisper his request into her ear.

She blanched at first, then became crimson with embarrassment.

"How dare you even suggest such a thing!" she said in a towering rage.

"You don't like it?" he asked, befuddled. Somehow he had come to assume that all women liked the procedure in question.

"I'm never going to let a man do that to me!"

"Why?"

"Because—because it's disgusting!"

"It all depends on your point of view."

"It's horrible! You're a horrible, evil man!"

"I don't think it's so bad."

Then another thought suddenly sprang into Jenna's head, making her even more furious.

"You—you do that to my daughter, don't you?" she shrieked.

Magnus retained his composure. "She wanted it—and I went ahead and did it. It was uncomfortable at first, but she's gotten to like it now."

"Oh, you corrupter of young women! How could you do that to such a delicate flower?"

"Ma'am, your daughter is a precious creature, but I wouldn't exactly call her delicate. She's strong and resilient." She can take all kinds of action from me—and from others.

Jenna seemed to be in an ecstasy of outrage. She seemed on the brink of starting to pound on Magnus's chest again—when his hand slipped in between their bodies and began stroking her wet, dripping pussy.

"Ooooh!" she groaned. The touch of his hand had suddenly sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she shivered uncontrollably.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't . . .?"

The turmoil of emotions that Jenna was feeling led her to an inadvertent confession.

"I—I haven't done it in a long, long time. Not since—" She broke off. Not since your wild college days? Magnus completed the thought for her.

He could have said something whimsical, like "You never forget—it's kind of like riding a bicycle." But he felt the moment warranted something a bit more serious.

"Why don't we try it? I'll be gentle. If it hurts too much, you let me know and I'll stop."

Jenna gave Magnus a pleading look, as if saying: I'm putting myself in an extremely vulnerable position—but I trust you to do what's right.

"Okay," she said meekly.

Magnus reached over to the nightstand and fished out the familiar blue jar. Jenna let out a nervous chortle when she saw the unexpected lubricant, but she didn't protest—not when he opened the jar, nor when he scooped some of the white stuff on his fingers and started to reach toward her bottom.

She buried her face in his neck as he applied the stuff, wriggling her butt a little. Then she got off of him and began getting on her hands and knees—but Magnus said he preferred her to lie flat on her stomach.

That position made her feel even more vulnerable, especially when he draped his large frame entirely over her. There was a feeling of utter helplessness as he brought his cock to the opening of her orifice, and she whimpered softly.

"It's okay, dear," he said soothingly. "Just relax. I'm hoping this won't hurt."

But his initial entry did hurt a little, and she cried out—then immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. God, I'm not a little girl! If my daughter can take it, so can I! He continued his entry slowly and carefully, and before Jenna knew it he was in more than halfway.

That seemed good to start, and he began pumping gently. The unusual and long-forgotten sensation caused her eyes to widen and her jaw to drop, and his thrusting resulted in his entering her more and more, until he was in almost to the root of his shaft. That was something she had never felt before, and she all but collapsed into a kind of boneless passivity as he wrapped his arms around her and seized her breasts.

Jenna had a certain amount of pride, and this feeling of being completely at a man's mercy was unfamiliar—and a little unwelcome—to her. She brought her legs together, and Magnus draped his legs outside of hers, rendering her even more helpless than before. She could have been some sex doll that some lonely man was using for his own satisfaction. But no, that wasn't fair: in the midst of her endurance of his increasingly vigorous thrusts she experienced—incredibly, to her mind—the initial twinges of a second paroxysm of her own, and as she sensed him on the verge of his culmination she was startled to feel one of his hands sliding down to her sex, prying open her labia and stroking her swelling clitoris in a way that sent tingles throughout her whole body.

And as they both came, they cried and groaned and squealed and gasped and sighed in transcendent ecstasy.

They had been so occupied with their own sensations that neither of them had noticed the front door opening and two sets of footsteps clumping up the stairs.

Kristen and Adele had come home. They had immediately taken note of certain objects of clothing littering the floor of the living room, giving each other alarmed looks that said: No, this can't really be happening—can it? Then they rushed up the stairs and saw what was happening in the master bedroom.

"Mom, omigod!" Adele cried. "What are you doing?"

Jenna turned her head and gave her daughter an exasperated look. What does it look like, you silly girl? Then, in a spasm of embarrassment, she covered her face with the bedsheet, under the age-old principle: If I can't see you, you can't see me!

But it was all futile. Adele, her mouth hanging open, at first felt she ought to be outraged. But then the absurdity of the situation overcame her, and she let out a trilling and infectious laugh; Kristen couldn't help joining in.

Jenna struggled to gain control of the situation, difficult as that might be in her current position. Magnus was still pumping the last drops of his seed into her bottom, but she wriggled under him, saying, "Will you please get out of me?"

He heaved a sigh of irritation and said, "Oh, all right." Pulling out quickly (so quickly that Jenna had to expel a little cry of pain), he clambered out of bed and, walking right between the two young women at the door, trudged off to the bathroom.

When Jenna saw this—saw this man who had just poked her twice (front and back), and who seemed to show not the slightest sign of being bothered by his nudity in front of his own daughter—a light went off in her mind.

She was rendered almost speechless, but she put that incredible thought out of her consciousness as best she could. Seeing that Adele had taken up the clothes that had been scattered on the living-room floor and was now clutching them in her arms, she said:

"Give those to me! I need to get dressed."

She actually got up from the bed, exposing her own nakedness to her daughter and to Kristen. Adele handed the clothes over mechanically; and Jenna, not troubling with her underwear, slipped the skirt on so that at least her main sexual area was covered.

"Adele, can you find me a blouse, please?" Jenna demanded after putting on her bra.

"A blouse?" Adele said. "What for?"

Then she noticed the torn and buttonless blouse on the floor of the bedroom. She let out another guffaw and said, "What did Magnus do to you?"

"Never mind," Jenna said tartly. "Just get me a blouse."

Adele stood stock-still, gazing at the ruined blouse. So Kristen took matters into her own hands. Rushing into her bedroom, she fetched a warm Angora sweater and brought it back.

"I hope this will do," she said.

"I guess it will have to," Jenna said, slipping it on. It had the effect of clinging to her breasts, but she figured there was no help for that.

"I'd better go," she muttered.

"Oh, Mom," Adele said, "you don't have to go right away! Why don't you stay for dinner? We were about to start making it."

"I—I can't do that," Jenna said, suddenly alarmed.

"Why on earth not? We were going to make chili and cornbread. There'll be plenty for everyone."

It was at this point that Magnus emerged from the bathroom. He had tactfully put on a robe, so that he wasn't quite so indecent as before. But the folds of the robe were hanging a little open, and a certain part of his body was protruding out of it.

"Oh, Daddy," Kristen chided, "you really need to get some clothes on."

Magnus said nothing to that, walking into his bedroom. He seemed on the verge of closing the door; but Jenna, mortified at the thought of being alone with him again, slipped out quickly.

The young women ushered her into the kitchen, where they all began making dinner. The familiar routine somewhat settled Jenna's mind, especially as the girls were chattering away on all manner of subjects (except the very one that they were all desperately wanting to talk about) and pretending as if nothing had happened.

The dinner proceeded just fine, although Jenna was strikingly silent while the others exchanged banter and talked about the events of the day. But after the meal was over, Jenna insisted that she had to go.

"Okay, Mom," Adele said, "but we'll have to do more talking about all this."

Jenna, fully aware of what Adele was referring to, went a little pale. All of a sudden she felt she was the daughter—a daughter who had done something quite naughty—and Adele the mother.

"All right," she admitted grudgingly.

But as she was about to slink out of the house, Magnus came up to her. Jenna reacted almost as if he were some kind of ogre, but when he wrapped her gently in his arms she responded, sighing heavily and snaking her arms around his neck.

He took her chin in his hand and raised it up so that he could give her a long, warm kiss on the mouth. One hand unconsciously slipped to her bottom and gave it a good squeeze. She didn't seem to mind.

"You come back soon, okay?" he said.

"Okay," she whispered.