The Amorous Brady Bunch Ch. 1byj.g.e. powers©
(Author's note: This story and "The Bradford Family Saga" were written simultaneously; parallel stories with the same theme. Certain scenes and/or dialogue are common to both.)
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Carol Brady sat on the commode, her nightgown bunched around her waist. Through wide open legs she watched the last drops of her morning piss cling to her silky blonde pussy-hairs. She stretched and yawned, willing her reluctant body awake. At her feet a magazine lay open; two classified ads circled. Her and her husband, Mike had answered one of them last night. The other was one she wasn't sure that she would tell her husband about.
"Yeah?" he answered, pushing the bathroom door open.
"Well, aren't you a sight?"
Except for a towel around his midsection, Mike Brady was naked and his flaccid cock made a delightful bulge. Eyeing his wife appreciatively, he felt a stirring in his loins. Even at age 50, Carol Brady still possessed the physical attributes that first caught his attention over twenty years ago. Blessed with good skin tone, and bone structure, her face showed no surrender to her years. She was petite, but well put together, with still firm tits; small, but full; a flat stomach, and tight buns. If someone didn't know her age, she could pass for thirty-five. And how she could fuck!
Looking at her, he knew he was a very lucky man and he blessed the day he met her - in court! He, with three young sons, for the final probate of his late wife's will, and Carol, with three equally young daughters, trying to induce her ex to pay back child support.
"Oh, Mike," she said, "I can't wake up this morning. I'm beat up. What about you?"
"Ol' Stallion Brady? Fit as a fiddle and rearin' to trot. Want to go around again?"
"You're too much," she giggled, "Did you hide the video? I don't want the kids stumbling over it while they're here."
"Of course, I did. Relax, Bobby doesn't go sneaking through our drawers anymore."
"Oh, God. Do you remember when he found your rubbers and thought they were balloons. I almost died from embarrassment."
"Hell, we've come a long way since then, haven't we?"
"And how. That's why I want that video stashed where no one is going to find it. You amateur C.B. DeMilles' are going to get us hung."
He smiled as he watched his wife delicately wipe her pussy. "Com'on, admit it; you enjoy watching the replay as much as I do. Admit it," he urged.
"I'll do no such thing," she said with a smile, " You're a dirty old man."
"I sure am," he said, pulling her to him, feeling her full, firm tits against his bare chest, making his blood stir, and was amazed that he still couldn't get enough of her, not even after twenty years. They had found the real secret of keeping the magic alive.
"How'd you like this 'dirty ol' man' to prong you again?"
"After last night? You can't have that much energy left."
Mike rubbed the palm of his hand over her nipple. Immediately it came alive and hardened. He knew that her pussy was beginning to soup up; her tits were her trigger.
"Oh, you bastard! That feels so good." She said, playfully punching his arm.
"So you're not really all that beat up."
"You know how beat up I am. You have it recorded for posterity."
"I sure as hell do, and everytime I think about it, I get horny. Come on, let's go to bed."
Carol giggled as she allowed herself to be maneuvered to the large bed. Mike pulled the tassel on her gown and it fell to her feet almost causing her to trip. Reaching out for her he found her left tit. The electric shock made her suck in her breath, and instantly reach for his hardness.
"God," he said with a choke in his voice, "you're a good-looking woman; the same as you were twenty years ago."
She kneaded his cock, feeling it grow hot in her hand. "And you, pretty liar, only get better with age. More kinky, too," she giggled.
He pushed her back on the bed, his hands trailing over the hills and valleys of her body. He spread her legs wide apart and blew softly into her silky, hot cunt making her moan. He could see the pussyjuice glisten on the golden strands of her cunt hair. The hot pink lips beckoned. Slowly, he flicked his tongue over her exposed clit.
"Oooooooo, Mike... mmmmmmmmm." Automatically, her cunt lips parted. He grabbed her asscheeks and buried his face in her musky mound.
"Oh, God... yes!" she screamed as he began sucking her pleasure spot. "That's it, that's it!... Oh, shit, yesss! Oh, Mike, suck harder... no... don't stop...don't.. don't be mean, keep sucking!... Oh, oh, aaaaaaaaaah! Christ! Stick your finger in my cunt... pleaseeeee!.. Yes, yes, like that... oh, so good. Fill me up!... Harder, Mike, suck harder!"
Mike's tongue darted in and out of her cunt; he nibbled the outer lips; sucked hard on her clit, then slowed. He knew her body; her responses; how to drive her to the brink and back again. He twisted his finger around her cunt wall, feeling the slippery texture, adding to her torment and pleasure.
"Oh, you sonofabitch," she screamed, "my ass... my ass, stick your finger in my ass! Hurry, I'm dying!... AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
The muscles of her ass contracted as he relentlessly pushed his finger into the tight ring of her bunhole. A vision of Carol with a huge, thick prick in her ass flashed through his mind, and his erection became almost painful.
Her breathing was labored and her words came in gulps. "Oh, Mike... I'm so full... aw, shit... I need your cock in me, bad. Quick, lay down... I've got to have it!"
Quickly, they shifted positions, and Carol placed her throbbing cunt directly over her husband's purple cockhead. Hunkering down, she slowly easing herself down on his raging prick. With love and tenderness she felt her pussy stretch, felt it push its' way deep into her body. She controlled the sensation, making it last. It was heaven!
"Sooooo, sooo, good," she sighed as her cunt filled up with cock. Oh, how she loved to have a man's prick inside her body. It was a pleasure beyond description. She leaned forward, forcing his pleasure rod deeper. Eyes glazed, mouth open, she slipped into a state of euphoria where only this great, indescribable feeling existed; a feeling she kept alive by the constant piston and churn motions of her wanton hips.
"Shit, your cunt's like fire... burning me alive. I gotta cum!"
"Oh, no, no, don't come yet... please, not yet. More! Oh, God, More!!" she cried; their loins beating a frantic rhythm as they sensed the apex of their passion.
"I'm gonna cum, Mike! I'm gonna Cum... harder! Fuck me harder. Make me Cum!!"
"Yeah! Yeah! Yesssssss... Cummmmmmmmmming!!!"
Carol shuttered as her orgasm exploded outward from her cunt. Hotly, Mike's cum juices splashed deep in her pussy and the receding flood as his cum washed over her cunt walls, back over his cock, and began leaking out and down her trembling thighs. She fell forward; his cock disengaging from her sopping box with a loud pop. Her rapid breathing slowly abated. "Now you know I'm beat-up. Where do you get all that juice from? You should've been drained last night."
"I'm a voyeur," he laughed, "I think of you, like last night and my factory starts pumping."
"Hell, I'm glad the kids are coming this weekend for our anniversary. Maybe I can get some rest."
"Yeah, it'll be good to see them, especially the girls."
"What does that mean, you lecher?"
"Hey, three good-looking sets of buns running around in bikinis; the answer to every dirty old man prayer."
"And you're going to tell me you didn't do a whole bunch of crotch watching when Peter was here last month. Don't lie, Carol, I saw you."
"That's different," she laughed, "he's not really my son; just one of my adopted sons."
"Oh, and just what the hell are the girls to me?"
"Oh, Mike, where has the time gone? Greg's a doctor; Peter, a lawyer. And Bobby almost has his MBA."
"I ask myself that question all the time. Marcia has her own decorating business; married over three years to that asshole. Jan's a full fledged architect, and Cindy's about ready to graduate."
"At least Bobby and Cindy are together, the rest of the family is so spread out. That's why this reunion is so important; even if we have to put off some of our... er, other activities," she paused for a moment then continued,
"Jan following in your footsteps means a lot to you, doesn't it?"
Carol rolled to Mike, rested her head on his chest and fingered his now limp, sticky dick. "And she's doing so well, too."
"Yeah, she's good, too." He laughed, "And being built like a brick shithouse didn't hurt, either. Old man Marley drooled all through her job interview."
"Mr. Brady, I think you have impure thoughts about your daughters."
"And you for the boys, Mrs. Brady. After what we've been doing, how can it be helped?"
"I hate to admit it, but you're right... I did peek at Peter's crotch, it looked nice; and with all of them home this weekend we should get all the peeking we can handle."
She ran her hand through her short, thick blonde hair, then tweaked his drooping prick. "Come on, Mr. Brady, let's get up. You know how much I enjoy that first cup of coffee in the morning."
Mike made a mental note to hide last night video. Carol retrieved her nightgown and the magazine from the bathroom floor. The ad stared back at her.
WHITE LADIES - AT YOUR SERVICE FIVE BLACK MEN - OVER 50 INCHES OF COCK. YOUR WILDEST DREAMS AND FANTASIES FILLED TO THE BRIM AND THEN SOME. CALL 555-3573
After the children left, she thought, then there would be enough time to explore the possibility.
Marcia Brady-Dansforths' mind was detached, separated from her body. It floated free, and its' eye wandered about the bedroom. It saw Marcia laying on the bed, legs wide and pushed back over her husband's shoulders; saw Tom Danforth's skinny dick pumping furiously in and out of Marcia's semi-dry cunt. It could hear her respond by rote; moaning or moving on cue, like an actor in a role. It was a good performance.
She knew she would have to call it back; help her through this - as she had done so frequently in the past. Sex with Tom Danforth has lost the little sparkle that it once had. Her mind circled once more, taking in Tom's heaving flanks, her own firm, rounded asscheeks; pink, puckered anus involuntarily contracting; round tits flattened against her chest by her husbands weight, blonde hair framing her oval face, then it returned to its' rightful place.
Greg! Oh, Greg, she thought, come to me! I need you. She could see her brother as he had been that day, younger, but with a full grown prick; thick and heavily veined. He lay naked on his bed, legs apart. His hand slowly caressing his heavy cock, bringing it to life. She saw herself watching from the closet - a childish impulse - her sister, Jan, gripping her arm tightly. She could 'see' the strange heat begin in her cunny; in Jan's. She could 'see' it spread upward through their young bodies.
Greg gripped his cock tightly but he couldn't quite fit his hand around the whole, throbbing shaft. His prick mesmerized them. It was the first real cock either of them had seen; long, thick, and meaty, with a heavy ballsac drooping between his legs. Marcia watched him stroke the shaft; gaining speed. Each stroke seem to send an electric shock through her cunny. She pressed her mound and hot, sticky juice began to flow and wet her pants.
"Look," Jan whispered, look! It's so big!"
"Quiet," Marcia hissed, "he'll hear you."
Straining to get a better view, the girls turned towards each other; young bodies; budding breasts, pressing against each other. They were breathing hard. Each had a hand pressed hard against their virginal pussies trying to intensify this new thrill. Without conscious thought their hands began small explorations of each other: stomach, hips, breast, thigh. Breast and thigh! They heard Greg moan, watched his fist begin to fly up and down the engorged shaft; saw the veins bulge, the purple head. Fingers slipped beneath elastic panty-bands: searching, finding. A blinding flash erupted before Marcia's eyes as Jan found one special spot. Her legs went weak.
Frantically, she sought the some spot in her sister's secret place; felt Jan's teeth sink, painfully into her shoulder when she found it. She sucked in her breath, but made no sound. Fingers moved without finesse, roughly. Pleasure came in waves. Greg's cock filled her vision. She could see it explode! She could feel it! It filled her up with depraved passion!
"Oh, God," she screamed, "that's it! Yes, fuck me. Fuck me! Make me come!"
"Oh, shit, Marcia, oh, shit... baby, you're so hot. I love it. I love it. Cum for me. Cum for Tom!"
Her mind reached for her brother's cock, her sister's hand; felt the enormous wave carry her up and over.
"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGG... I'm cumming, I'm cummmmmmm."
Her legs wrapped tight around his back; fingers dug into his flesh. He yelled his pain and pleasure as his cock erupted hotly in his wife's, now juicy, box. His breath was harsh with exertion. "Christ, Marcia... you're a hot bitch."
She smiled shyly, "You're just a great lover, honey," she lied. The forbidden fantasy was pushed back, deep into her mind. They lay side by side, touching lightly, letting their breathing return to normal.
"You don't mind me going to my Mom and Dad's anniversary alone, do you, honey?"
"Naw, I'm just sorry I have so much work; just can't break free now." And I'm looking forward to putting the make on that redheaded secretary, he thought.
Marcia's play-acting, and her sexual fantasy, had made Tom Danforth think he was an A-number-one stud.
Marcia didn't hear his answer, or see the look in his eye; not that it would have mattered, she could only think that for a whole weekend she would be free; at home, with her family, away from her boring husband. And Greg would be there.
"Are you going to pack tonight or tomorrow morning," Bobby asked his sister, Cindy.
"Why don't you do it tonight. With all your junk we'll get a late start in the morning."
"I don't have that much, and it's only for the weekend."
"The Normandy Invasion didn't have as much stuff as you pack for a weekend."
"Forget it. Try to pack tonight, willya."
Cindy Brady stretched, arching her back; her large cherry-tipped breasts standing proud. Bobby cupped the left beauty and took the nipple in his mouth.
"Ooooooo, Bobby," Cindy cooed, putting her arms around him, "Is this my wake up call?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, "your obscene wake up call."
"I don't think it's obscene."
Gently, she pushed him back, "How are we going to make it through a whole weekend?"
He shrugged, "Who says we have to do without? It never stopped us before."
Cindy smiled at the memory. She and Bobby had started playing "doctor" at nine and ten, began playing "almost" - a popular teenage game - at twelve and thirteen, and started fucking in their early teens. They hadn't stopped since, even while dating and having sex with others. They always had each other.
"But we always had places to go then. This weekend we'll be stuck at home with everybody."
Bobby smiled and cupped her melon breast, "We'll just have to find a way. We always did."
She returned his smile and pecked him lightly. "Anyway, it'll be good to see the guys again. It's been so long."
"Yeah, it'll give the poor bastards a chance to make cow eyes at each other again."
"Don't make fun of them. They just weren't as lucky as us." Cindy felt a sudden loss as he released her tit and lay back on the bed.
"I know, I just feel sorry for the guys."
"Feel sorry for Marcia and Jan; they're the ones who've done without." Cindy leaned back and remembered how each of the girls, her and her sisters, Marcia and Jan, had selected a personal 'brother' of their own. That they selected the brother closest to their own age did nothing to reduce the romance involved in the process. She was sorry that their relationships hadn't fared as well as hers and Bobby's.
"Do you think they ever played 'Almost'?"
Bobby grinned. "Greg had a pair of Marcias' dirty panties; he used to jerk-off while smelling them."
Cindy couldn't help but laugh. "Greg has a beautiful prick."
He arched an eyebrow and looked at her quizzically. She shrugged. "All the Brady men have beautiful cocks. I even saw Daddy's once."
"And all the Brady women have real blonde pussies," he said, grinning at her, "You weren't the only one who peeked."
"Would you fuck Marcia or Jan?"
"That's a silly question," he said as a lewd picture of his sisters flashed through his mind.
"I'd fuck Greg or Peter, if I had the chance."
"Girl, you'd fuck a nigger!"
She giggled. "I have."
Bobby pulled her to him, flattening her tits against his chest. He ran his hands down her back and gripped her firm, young ass.
"Talk dirty some more. It turns me on."
She gripped his semi-erect cock. "I know what really turns you on, dear brother!" Panther-like, she shifted positions, placing her blonde muff inches from his face. Her hand squeezed his prickhead, and her tongue flicked wetly across its crown. He sighed as the warm, moist oval of her mouth engulf him and felt her jump as he stabbed her cunt with his tongue. As they began to pass into the world of self-pleasure, each had a stray thought: that it was a shame their brothers and sisters only dreamed about what they, in fact, had. Then they were beyond the portal and their thoughts were only of themselves.
"Good Afternoon, Miss Parsons," Peter Brady said formally.
"Mr. Brady." Lucy Parsons turned to her secretary, "Thank you, Pam, that'll be all. And hold my calls, please. Mr. Brady and I have to review his pending cases."
Peter and Lucy Parsons smiled at the secretary as she left the office. Peter appreciated her long legs and her good-looking ass. One of these days, he thought. Lucy watched him appraise the girl, and she smiled. Horniness was one of Peters' endearing qualities.
"Well, Mr. Brady, do you have your portfolio available?"
Peter turned and gave her his best smile. She could feel his attraction all the way down in her crotch.
"Actually, Miss Parsons, I didn't come prepared to review my cases, I came to ask a favor."
The older woman appraised the young lawyer in front of her: dark, curly hair, square chin, dazzling smile, good body - very good body. At forty-five, Lucy Parsons was still an attractive woman, dressed somewhat severe, as proscribed by her position as a full partner in one of the best law firms on the West Coast. The clothes hid a full, womanly figure, still firm, still desirable, still in need.
"And the favor, Mr. Brady?"
"My parents are celebrating their anniversary this weekend, and they're planning a reunion of the clan. I'd like to take tomorrow off and fly down - if it's alright with you, of course."
Miss Parsons came around her desk and stood close to Peter. He caught a flash of thigh as her skirt flap parted. He could smell her: fresh and clean; no heavy perfume for the boss lady.
"This must be a first. A new lawyer showing consideration for the firm," she said.
"Isn't that the way it's done?"
"Not usually. Young lawyers are fairly arrogant, and favors always come with a pay back."
"I'm just asking for a day off."
She smiled at him, the way a cat smiles at a mouse.
"Everything has its' price, Mr. Brady." She leaned back against the desk, arms back, legs apart, skirt taut; the slit wide, nylon clad thighs showing.
"What's the price of a day off, Miss Parsons?"
She came at him like a shot. Her arms gripped him tightly, her lips covered his - hard; her tongue searched for its mate, found it and entwined. He felt her body mold to his, seeking, in need. His hands found her breast and her tight ass. He pulled her to his groin, and ground his dick into her crotch.