Magnus and His Family Ch. 13

But on the fifth day of their stay, their urges got to be too much for them.

The young people retired early, leaving Walter to watch an old movie by himself in the living room. That seemed to provide enough cover for at least some of the funny business they were planning, and they quickly shed their clothes and got down to business. It tickled Adele to get down on her knees and suck Curt's cock in the very room he had spent so much time in; they both felt like naughty teenagers making out while their parents were out of earshot. And when they moved to the bed, Curt plunged into Adele as she lay supine and spread-eagled on his bed; both had splendid climaxes after the release of all that pent-up sexual energy.

But as they were lying wrapped in each other's arms afterward, a strange sound seemed to emerge from somewhere in the house.

Adele, almost dislodging Curt's head from its place on her breasts, raised herself up a little and said, "What on earth's that noise?"

Curt for some reason was apparently doing his best to ignore the commotion.

"Curt," Adele said sharply, "something's going on out there. It's like—"

"It's Dad," he said bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"He's crying. He does that sometimes, you know? It's no big deal."

"No big deal!" Adele exclaimed. "How can you be so callous? Why he is crying?"

"Why do you think?" Curt said dismissively.

"But—but this is awful! We can't just let him—"

"Oh, Adele, it's best to pay no attention. We shouldn't interfere with his grief."

Now Adele really did push Curt off of her body. She was shuddering with sympathetic pain.

"Curt, I can't let this go on. I've never heard a man cry like that. I have to do something."

"Adele, just—"

But she had already gotten up and was heading out of the room.

"Adele!" Curt cried.

"You're not stopping me," Adele said in a determined voice. "I'm going to help him."

What Curt was going to say was: Adele, you don't have any clothes on.

Adele had bolted out into the corridor. She wasn't immediately clear on where Walter's bedroom was, but the continued sounds of sobbing made her realize it was the big room at the far end of the hall. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door and rushed in.

Walter was lying on the bed, seemingly dressed only in his underwear, his head buried in a pillow that Adele, even in the near-darkness of the room, could see was moist with tears.

She knelt down next to the bed, so that only her face was visible. She extended a hand and stroked the man's head.

"Walter, dear," she said, unconsciously using the simple endearment, "can I help?"

Only now did he become aware of her presence. He turned his head suddenly and gave her the same look of alarm that she had seen when she'd first come to the house. It grieved her to think that he still thought of her as some sort of fearful intruder.

With that, she slipped into bed with him and all but forced him to rest his head on her chest. It was only now that she realized that she was naked. Oops! Well, it's too late to do anything about that.

Walter himself didn't seem to notice her condition—or care. Instinctively he reached out and embraced Adele tightly as he continued to pour out his sorrow onto her bosom. At times he would take one of her large breasts in his hand and give it a squeeze: the gesture was not in any way sexual, merely an acknowledgment that these exquisite parts of a woman's body were meant as an all-purpose solace to the woes of the world. She held him closely as a mother would hold a child who was in desperate need of comforting, and gradually Walter's tears dried up.

She raised up his face and gave him a tender kiss on the mouth.

"Feeling better now?" she said. Her own eyes were glistening with unshed tears of her own.

All he could do was nod. Then he returned to paying homage to her breasts, at times holding both of them and pressing them against his cheeks, at other times kissing them or placing her nipples in his mouth and sucking on them as if he could draw sustenance from them.

"You're a dear, dear creature, Adele," he whispered.

After a while his hands strayed down to her bottom and kneaded it vigorously but tenderly. The act had a not unsurprising effect on him.

Adele pulled his head away from her chest—but only so that she could reach down and release his engorged cock from the confinement of his underwear.

Walter looked down at his own erection as if it was some kind of supernatural phenomenon. Then he looked back up to his bedmate. A worried expression covered his face.

"Curt . . ." he began.

"Don't worry, Walter," she said. "He won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure." Her unspoken words were clear: Curt wants you to feel better.

Adele took the initiative, diving down under the sheets to get an up-close-and-personal look at the organ that had led to Curt's existence. It was not especially long—maybe six and a half inches—but was incredibly thick, and as she took more than half of it into her mouth she found her lips and cheeks stretched in a way that had never happened before. She liked the sensation—and she could tell that Walter liked it too, if his heavy groan were any indication. Poor man! Could it really have been five years since a woman had done this to him?

Adele also found Walter's large, heavy scrotum fascinating, and she tickled it with her fingers while sucking his cock, and at times she released his member so that she could roll the big testicles around in her mouth. Walter's cries were becoming almost alarmingly loud, and Adele didn't want him to explode prematurely in her mouth; so she stopped her oral stimulation and lay on her back, letting him feast his eyes on her voluptuous form and take whatever actions he wished.

Walter seemed hypnotized by her exuberant breasts, and he directed his attention to them again. They were still a little moist from his tears, but this time his focus was on arousing both her and himself. After squeezing and kissing and licking them, he slowly worked his way down her body, bathing her stomach and groin with his tongue before he fastened his lips to her sex, now thoroughly damp. Adele, gazing fixed at him, enjoyed both the sight and the feel of his mouth and lips on her labia and clitoris, with his hands grabbing her ample bottom and giving it a good squeeze also. In a surprisingly short time she was crying out incoherently, experiencing the first of what she suspected would be several climaxes, as the sensation radiated from her cleft to all parts of her body.

Somehow Walter seemed taken aback at what he had done. He gazed alternately at Adele's face and her sex as he took in the fact that he had brought this gorgeous young woman to orgasm. But then he knew it was his turn, and he slowly climbed up Adele's body and efficiently mounted her.

The girth of his member was a new experience for Adele, for even the parties involving the men working for Magnus didn't feature anyone with a cock of these exact dimensions. It delighted her to realize that she could satisfy men of all different endowments; and she could tell that Walter was definitely enjoying the feeling, as he pounded her enthusiastically while showering kisses all over her face and neck and shoulders and seized her breasts and bottom with eager hands.

In only a few minutes Walter's face betrayed a look of alarm and frustration—and he bathed her pussy with his seed. He felt humiliated that he had come so fast, and was about to pull out—and, perhaps, slink away in embarrassment—but then heard Adele whisper in his ear:

"Stay in me, dearest. I don't think you're quite finished yet."

Walter didn't at all share Adele's confidence: he had never done what she was suggesting. Nevertheless, he remained buried to the hilt in her—at first simply lying there on top of her, then slowly and tentatively pumping. It was at least encouraging that he hadn't gone soft at once; then, after a few minutes, his eyes widened with the realization that he might in fact pull off this impressive feat, and he resumed pummeling that sopping wet cavity with gusto as he pasted his lips to hers in uncontrolled passion.

Those lips only pulled away when a harsh, guttural cry was forced out of his throat as he showered Adele's vagina with a second immense discharge. It seemed to go on for minutes, as both of them clung to each other to squeeze the maximum out of this second climax. Adele couldn't be certain that she herself didn't have a mini-climax of her own as she coaxed all the fluid out of Walter's member that she could.

Finally he had to withdraw, rolling off of her and flopping over onto his back.

"See," she said between gasps, "I told you you could do it!"

"I—I've never done that before," he breathed.

"First time for everything!" she said whimsically.

But Adele sensed that this was really no time for levity. What had just happened represented a huge step forward in Walter's emotional rehabilitation after the untimely passing of his wife. Adele had no illusions that she had somehow replaced that beloved creature; she had simply made herself available as a way of helping this grieving man regain some sense of self-worth. But Walter himself made it clear, both by word and deed, that Adele was more than just a vessel for his desires; she was a treasure in herself, and he now placed her on top of him, wrapped her in his arms, and snuggled with her ardently.

The inevitable occurred. In only minutes his member had revived once again. Adele gave him a tender look and said to him:

"Would you like to go into my bottom?"

His eyes widened as he said hoarsely, "Yes."

"Do you like that?"

"Yes. I used to do it with—Judith."

That must have been his wife. Adele had previously seen a bottle of hand lotion on the nightstand; and since it was unlikely that Walter had cold cream anywhere in the house, she figured this would work just fine for lubricant. She took the jar in her hand and said:

"Would you like to . . .?"

He nodded briefly and squeezed some of the stuff onto his fingers. Then, while Adele remained on top of him, he applied the stuff to her nether orifice. She wasn't sure how he wanted to do the procedure, so she rolled off of him and lay flat on her stomach, giving him an inquiring look. He seemed to find this position satisfactory and clambered onto her and gently inserted his member into her anus. Again, the thickness of the organ surprised and pleased her—she liked being stretched down there as well as in the other place! He got into a rhythm quickly, instinctively seizing her breasts with both hands as he possessed her utterly. Adele simply lay there, helpless and passive, while he ground his hips into her. It took him a good fifteen minutes to achieve culmination, but when he did so he cried gaspingly right into her ear as he poured out his emission into her.

He knew that he had to wash before resuming further activity, and so he trotted on somewhat unsteady legs to the bathroom. Returning in less than a minute, he swept her into his arms again. After suitable rest they engaged in a lengthy session of sixty-nine that resulted in two shuddering climaxes for her and one for him; she thrilled at the amount of fluid filling her mouth and sliding thickly down her throat, and she squeezed every ounce of his discharge out of him before allowing him another well-deserved rest.

But Walter's years-long drought had stimulated him beyond even his expectations. Even after they had apparently lapsed into sleep, he awoke and, eyeing her exquisite backside, mounted her again, slipping into her anus a second time and pumping gently for a full half-hour before sending a fifth emission into her. She simply lay there, calm and tranquil, grateful that she could inspire him to such feats.

Then, at last, they fell asleep.