The Stiffy in the Floppy Drive

The original desktop computers had floppy drives; later came stiffy drives, still later cam hard drives. A stiffy could not go into a floppy drive, but in real life the two are made for one another and could result in a hard drive.

I left school midway through Grade 11 because of a disagreement with the system: the system had failed me twice and I thought I knew enough. I found a job building up computers for a wholesale dealer in town and learnt the ropes. Within a year I had mastered the Windows operating system and found that I had a natural flair for computers and softwaret: you develop a sort of sixth sense if you work with that stuff long enough.

One day a client of the wholesaler complained about the lack of competent technicians, which I overheard him. I phoned him the same evening. He offered me a job in his retail business in Caledon, and after looking over the place, I accepted. The chief attraction of the new job was that I would no longer be confined to the workshop, but would be installing hardware and software in homes and businesses. I liked that, because I have the hardware which I can combine with the proper software for mutual benefit, if you get my drift. I was given the use of a little Datsun 1400 bakkie and found suitable lodging with a widow in town. The widow didn't have a computer, but she had an itch.

It was not all plain sailing, though. There was one irascible customer who bitched about everything and then refused to pay when we presented the bill. We put the debt collector onto him and would do no more business with him after that. Then there were the housewives who knew sweet fanny adams about computers, but had to have one. One called me out one evening because she could not get the thing started - it was a desktop machine and wasn't plugged in. She thought you had to crank it and couldn't the crank! However, she had a nice floppy drive which needed to be plugged into, so I obliged and got paid double for my service. In the process I soon learnt to discern the difference between a technical and a personal need. I have never had any hesitation in sowing my seed, provided it's into a safety, and carried a sizable stock in the bakkie's cubbyhole.

The ladies with personal needs usually called after hours; they were the ones with hubbies who spent their time in clubs and neglected to keep the home fire burning, or to quench the local little bush fire; but there were also two divorcees who worked in offices and came home at five hungry for a comforting cuddle. Who am I to object? Later they did not even use the computer as a pretext, but simply phoned me and said, 'I'm lonely,' or, more directly, 'I'm randy'. Then I would pop over and attend to the need of the hour. I stopped masturbating then because there were so many demands on my semen stock!

One day, just after lunch, we had a call from a lady who reported a problem with her accounting software. Pam did the accounts for two medical practises and a small general store in town, and was frantic because the accounts had to be sent out and there was a glitch. She was an established client of ours, so I was sent to her house to solve the problem. It wasn't anything serious, but she was very grateful. She fetched two glasses of Coke and we relaxed on the couch in the lounge while sipping the Coke and making small talk. On the sideboard was a colour photograph of her twin daughters, Cindy and Mandy, obviously taken at their prom dance, and I asked about it.

The mother beamed. 'Oh, that was taken more than a year ago. They've just grown prettier with time, of course. Filling out at the top, you understand.' The tops were not really empty as such, quite the contrary. 'And both very athletic, too. They broke several school records as under-sixteens and again as under-nineteens, which I think will stand for quite a few years. Bruce, that's their father, said it was because they were competing against the best, namely each other!'

'Where are they now?' I ventured, because, if they were close by, I could perhaps check on the 'filling out' over the last fifteen months. They were certainly two very comely young fillies!

'They are both working at the co-op, Steve. Secretarial work, you know, which is the way to go for talented girls like mine. They even get a special clothing allowance to dress smartly. Oh, you should see them!'

But all along I noticed she was licking her lips, sort of weighing me up. I sensed that she was getting the hots for me, because I have built up a reputation as a good lover with a sturdy dong and proper follow-through, and I could read faces. She offered me a second Coke, which I accepted, and disappeared into the passage. I heard the toilet flush, then she returned with the two Cokes, and something else, which she flung into my lap. It was a pair of panties, smelling of a randy pussy. She sat down opposite me and pulled up her skirt so that 95% of her thighs were exposed and I could look into her black bush. 'I want to say thank you, Steve. I was really in a flat spin!'

'You don't have to, Pam,' I replied, covering myself against any possible claim; I had my eye rather on the two girls, you see. 'You just have to pay on the invoice.'

'But I want to give you a bonus, a tax-free bonus.'

Put that way, I could hardly decline. I moved across and sat down next to her and went to work. I kissed the pouting mouth while I unbuttoned the blouse and slipped my hand into her bra. She sighed and leaned back. I pulled the blouse out of her skirt, my hands went around to the back and undid the bra. Her breasts were slightly pendulous, yet firm, and already hot to the touch. I started kissing the nipples, left, right, left, right, literally leaving no stone unturned or boob neglected. Meanwhile one hand was caressing her bum and the other one was exploring her love portal. I ascertained that the pussy juice on the panties had originated in that very locality: yes, she was fucking hot for a screw! I didn't bother to take down her skirt, but pulled her closer to me, which caused the skirt to pull up higher, and went to work on the labia and the clit, first with my educated fingers and then with my tongue.

She soon started tossing and humping and screaming in ecstasy.as though I was already in her with my stiffy. At the end she flopped down, panting, and rolled her eyes at me. 'Jesus! That was quite something.' She took a deep breath and asked, 'Will you fuck me now, please?'

'Are you sure, Pam?'

'Yes, I'm sure. I guess I'm a nymphomaniac, Steve, because I can have several orgasms in the space of an hour. It just keeps on coming.'

''Okay, if you're sure about it. You want it on the couch or on the floor?'

She grinned lasciviously. 'On the floor, like my very first fuck!'

I took down my shorts and briefs, fished out a condom and pulled it over the stiffy, then spread myself on the carpet and invited her to come and lie on top of me. God, man, she was so horny, she couldn't wait: the next moment my dick was up to the hilt in her cunt and she on a gallop, whooping and shouting, urging me to fuck her with all I've got. I did my best, but still couldn't beat her to her second tremendous orgasm. She was sitting up in order to get more stiffy into the floppy working up to the third one, and I was about to unload, when the passage door was flung open.

Oh, shit!

The couch hid us from view, but Pam was now groaning and moaning in the build-up to her third climax, and I was in extremis! There was the fast patter of feet and an anxious enquiry, in a high-pitched soprano, 'Mom, are you alright?' The patter came around the couch and then the person said, quite matter-of-factly, 'Oh, hi, mom, you're fucking!' Then she called in the direction of the passage, excited-like, 'Mandy, come and have a look!. Mom is on top of a guy, fucking him!'

I couldn't see the speaker, but I could hear some elastic snapping and then sensed that cloths were being thrown about. The next moment a bare ass moved into view as the girl backed in over my face and started rubbing her pussy against my chin, just to get her juices flowing properly before she moved forward again so I could tongue-fuck her. I had a humongous orgasm and I thought I'd blown a gasket in my ears because they were ringing in the echo of the shot. Pam was now near the peak of her third climax and the pussy on top of me - I guessed it had to be Cindy - was now talking dirty to me, asking me, in no uncertain terms, to wrap my tongue around her prominent clit, which was now in full erection and oozing love-juice quite generously. Mom and daughter were encouraging one another, to 'fuck the hell out him!' and to me, 'come fuck the hell out of me!'

My testicles took note of the double attack and responded favourably: testosterone was secreted and the drooping stiffy became a hard drive again. Pam hit the ceiling and toppled over backwards, but Mandy immediately took her place, and the twins now tried to set a record on who would come first, and/or who could fuck the most hell out of me. They almost succeeded in screwing the life out of me, but it would have been a wonderful way to leave this cruel world. I had two orgasms while the sisters swopped positions, and were comparing notes as they were humping me, with Pam giving directions from the side-line.

'What the fuck is going on in here?' a gruff voice enquired from the direction of the passage. I closed my eyes and died. Heavy footsteps came around the couch, stopped and took in the scene. I heard him take off his belt, then the sound of a zip going down, and feared the worst: I was going to get arse-fucked as well! The only thing was, I was lying on my back and Cindy was extracting cum from my prick and would not yield to her father's entreaties to 'step aside and let your dad through'. In some desperation he took his daughter in her bung hole\, which sent her into overdrive mode, and speeded up the action on my prick. The father had meanwhile pulled out of Cindy's arse and was tossing himself over his wife, who was relishing it.

'Wow!' Cindy said as she stood up and viewed her pussy work. Mandy had also creamed herself - and my face - and did a backward somersault to land on her feet. Bruce reached out a cum-filled hand to me to pull me up and said, 'So they gave you the works, hey? I'm so fucking glad you took the edge off them today.'

When I told my boss about this afterwards, he smiled very broadly. 'Well, you provide a good service, and they are all thankful. They're quite a happy family, because they take turns in fucking their daddy. Cindy has had to get an abortion a while back - I had that from the "doctor" who performed the operation - but since then she's been on the Pill too.'

'Isn't incest a crime?' I asked.

'It is, but you have to catch the perpetrators red-handed, or there is no conviction. Who is going to tell? You and I know, but I'm not going to say anything to the police. Are you?'

I shook my head. 'Only next time when Pam has a problem, I will go in the morning, to keep the rest at bay. I died several deaths there yesterday.'

The bottom line is, I might not be the best-paid computer technician in the world, but I actually like being paid in kind. Such variety is, after all, the spice of life. Hooray for floppy drives, may they live forever!