tagLesbian SexThe Tale of the Families Ch. 01

The Tale of the Families Ch. 01


Recently, I have been receiving a lot of mail accusing me of rushing into the sex scenes too quickly. "You seem to be in a hurry. Why don't you spend some pages describing the situation in more detail?" was the common refrain.

While I do admit that this is the case with most of the stories that I post on the site, let me remind readers that I write for the sole purpose of titillating. If someone wants a build-up, so be it. This one is for them, though, at times, I felt I was writing a little too much for what I knew (and the reader too does) for the main course to commence.

Also I recently read a hilarious piece about why conversations are not used when people are fucking and how funny and unreal they sound in a story. Well, I got to tell you that even if this is true, why have a erotic site at all if you are just going to describe the motions?

I feel that conversations are a very important part of every fuck-story. (Notice, I did not say Erotica -- I love smut!). For those who get their kicks from minimum conversations and detailed descriptions (about the setting, the clothes, the looks, the gardens et all) I would suggest ancient Victorian erotica.

As I have often written in the past, I repeat that I am an ardent fan of breasts. They are that part of a woman's anatomy that has always fascinated me -- and will continue to. A breast-man would surely agree!


"As usual, Anita, this workout makes me feel so good," the woman said, pulling on her jeans and zipping up the front.

"You always tell her that after each session, don't you Sandra?" the second woman laughed, beginning to strip the gym-suit off her body.

"It's true, don't you think? Look at you. You look so fresh despite the hour's workout. In the local club, we usually are sweating like pigs."

The subject of the topic smiled, pulling on her terry robe. "Sandra is right about that, Zeenie. And as a matter of fact, you are beginning to look more gorgeous than ever, if at all that is possible!"

"Look who's talking!" Zeenat laughed, pulling on her skirt and tucking the t-shirt into the waistband.

"Care to have some orange juice?" Anita asked, when she led the trio out of the basement and to the steps leading into the back verandah of the two-floor mansion she owned.

"Gosh, no thanks," Sandra replied, glancing at her watch. "It's about Robin's feeding time and that guy brings down the roof when he's hungry! Besides, you know that my uncle always spends the weekend with us and god knows when my brother would pop up! I'd better rush. Why don't you drop in sometime, Anita? You have the keys and I know you love the paintings. Uncle Peter is going back tomorrow till the next week and you know Harry. Like your son, my brother's too got the cricket fever in him. And during the practice seasons he always needs to be with my ex."

"Maybe I'll sneak into your house some time next week. You have still not used my key to drop in to watch the opera's, Sandra".

Anita quickly glanced towards Zeenat. The subject of Sandra's ex-husband, Alex was too sensitive and she didn't want to raise the topic now.

"What about you, Zeenie? Juice interests you?" Anita asked the older woman as they stepped into the verandah and turned into the passage leading to the living room.

"Some other time, honey. The kids will be waiting for their breakfast. Salma was talking about joining the extra English classes, in spite of attending mine, and Asif is contemplating extra hockey practice. And talking about keys, I'm sorry I've still not handed the copies of my house keys to the two of you. Saqlain told me that they would need about a week or so and you know my husband. Most of the times he's out of town, so there. Anyway, I'll make sure I get the keys around tomorrow, okay?"

"Where's the fire?" Sandra responded, tossing back her silky brown hair and pushing the stray strands behind her ears.

"There will be if I don't hurry up. Asif and Salma would be hopping mad by now. Kids! Its time for my tuition-class and I will soon be surrounded by them asking me all kinds of questions! And one of them is yours, Anita. I wonder how you always seem to be so relaxed having kids around you!"

Anita laughed. "Never had a problem with mine and don't have any now."

The two women left by the front door and Anita locked it behind them. She sighed and made her way to her bedroom.

Time for the usual after-workout shower, she thought, entering the bedroom and beginning to undress.


Anita stared at her reflection in the large mirror and for the umpteenth time, cursed her fate.

This was certainly not the age to be a widow, she thought, surveying herself critically. Three years since her husband had died, and despite her age, she already felt like an old maid.

On the wrong side of thirty, she had to thank her dear departed husband for insisting on building that wonderful gym in the basement of their huge building. She remembered how she had argued with Dino -- it was damned expensive and they could always join the City Health Center, barely a couple of miles away.

"And have those hunks ogle at you, sweets?" he had joked.

Yes, Dino had been very possessive about her. Hell, he had been possessive about almost everything that belonged to him. And so, nearly two months after that discussion, they had this fully equipped gum in the large basement.

They were health freaks, and she still was. It wasn't a surprise therefore that their kids too went for it in a big way. The regular workouts had helped her to not just to maintain her svelte figure, but had made her look almost a decade younger than her thirty-nine years.

And now, she thought as she vigorously rubbed her body with the soft towel, she wondered whether it was all worth it. Of course, she had everything a woman her age would hope to have. A huge bungalow, a large trust that provided her a fat monthly interest in addition to the income she made as a private tutor, two wonderful, beautiful kids and not to forget, all the frills.

The workouts kept her looking young and beautiful. It made her feel at the top of the world, healthy and hale and hearty. The kids were sweet and cared so much for her.

But she knew she was missing the one thing a woman her age needed. And she had to admit that it was sex.

The kids had hinted quite often that she find a man and get married. But with the death of her husband, she had given up on that. It still hurt, and besides, it was impossible for her to forget Dino.

In his possessiveness, Dino had also made an additional stipulation in his will. The interest would stop once she got married the second time. All the assets, including the bungalow and his shares would be diverted to the kids.

Which man would really want her for keeps minus those assets and plus the kids?

She had thought of going out on dates; maybe have a fling or two if only to satisfy the urge that hit her routinely. That too, was out of the question. Any widow doing that in this community would automatically be dubbed a whore, and she wouldn't possibly do it for the sake of the kids.

Having dried herself, she threw the towel towards the washing machine and once again surveyed her reflection in the mirror.

A shade under five-six, she was all of a hundred and twenty pounds. She was proud of her long brown silky hair that fell down almost to her waist, those eyebrows that looked like they were painted by an master artist with great care to complement her wide flashing dark eyes. Agreed that the pert nose, a bit upturned looked tiny, but that was because of her wide mouth and those lush full lips, which looked like they were perpetually painted with a light pink lipstick.

All those parts set off her oval shaped face perfectly and when she smiled, little dimples appeared on her cheeks and everyone said that they looked so cute and sexy.

The long swan like neck sat on medium sized straight shoulders: no droop there -- in fact, a lot of people thought that she intentionally walked with her shoulders thrown back to emphasize her major asset.

Her skin was smooth and unblemished. She never had experienced pimples even in her teens. But all that was inherited at birth.

What the workouts had done for her was reflected in her lush body.

Dino always told her (and demonstrated many times) that he could wrap her waist with his hands and interlace his fingers after doing it. Perhaps, this was why her buttocks looked wider than they really were. In fact, and she took regular measurements, her buttocks and hips at the widest part were a perfect thirty-six.

What really drew attention were her breasts. Round and exquisitely shaped to fill a champagne glass perfectly, they were capped by rosy, pink nipples. And yes, the measuring tape indicated size thirty-eight.

She had always been good in that department, ever since those melons had begun to sprout in the pubescent days. Guys would drop their jaws and girls would stare jealously at them when she had begun attending college.

All this, she thought as she sighed and picked up her bathrobe, in spite of having borne two kids.

She walked out of the bathroom and noticed that her usual glass of orange juice was not in the usual place. It surprised her, because the maid never forgot the routine. Madam worked out in the morning for forty minutes, she then has a shower and the first thing she does after the shower is drink a glass of fresh orange juice. This was hammered in the girl's head and Vera, the maid, had never forgotten the routine.

Until today.

The girl must be working on something else, she thought. Probably must be busy with the vacuum cleaner. Oh well, she didn't want to yell at the girl. It was with great difficulty that she had managed to locate a maid. These days, it was difficult to get one and Vera wasn't your run of the mill maid. She was from a very good family who had seen bad days and Vera, besides working, attended night classes, was quite well educated and well groomed that often, guests mistook her for being one of the family.

Anita pushed the bedroom door open and walked out of the room, intending to go down the stairs to the kitchen to see what Vera was up to. She walked in the long passage that separated the two wings on the first floor. Her bedroom (it had been their bedroom, she thought wistfully) was located at the far end and alongside the passage was three doors on either side leading to a total of six bedrooms. Her husband always liked big, she reminisced. She could still picture him arguing with the architect (their close friend) about how big made perfect sense instead of cluttered and small cubbyholes that the fashionable people went for.

"Goddamn it, Ray," he had yelled at his pal. "We are building a home, not a soggy motel!"

As she passed the center door (to her left) that was her son's room, she heard a noise. She stopped.

Had Ashish cut classes today? He never did, she knew that. Besides, he was practicing hard for the upcoming cricket match -- the annual event that had made him a hero out of a mere mortal.

A smile playing on her lips, she softly opened the door.

As usual, the curtains were closed -- Ashish never liked his room to be too bright. The bed was unmade, and thankfully empty, which meant that Ashish was at college and had in fact not cut classes.

The room was large -- identical to the other five, though much smaller than her bedroom. As with all the bedrooms, a door at one end led to the bathroom.

It was then she saw Vera. The young maid was sitting on the swivel chair in front of the PC, her back to the door, apparently engrossed enough not to have become aware of her mistress's presence in the room.

Initially, Anita felt a rush of anger course through her. Damn it, the girl was supposed to be at work and here she was gazing at the monitor of her son's PC. Anger gradually gave way to sympathy. She knew that Vera was lately attending some computer classes and the poor girl had no PC at her place to practice upon. Anita knew how tough it was initially for a beginner to get used to the computer: she herself had undergone painfully long sessions to get familiar with the PC.

The poor girl was perhaps at practice, Anita thought, beginning to retrace her steps to back out of the room. It was just when she was about to turn around that she noticed it.

There was a rhythmic movement that Vera was making with her left hand! Anita couldn't see clearly, but yes, the girl's left hand appeared and disappeared from view in a steady rhythm, as if she was caressing or rubbing something.

As her eyes get accustomed to the darkness inside the bedroom, Anita noticed that the maid's legs were splayed across the computer chair and yes, her eyes weren't playing tricks, the girl's skirt was definitely pushed up around her thighs.

Anita took two steps further into the room, very softly and without making a noise, curious to know what exactly Vera was up to.

She now was standing at an angle to the girl, about five to six feet away. Vera was still not aware of her, engrossed as she was in staring at the glowing screen.

Anita froze when she suddenly realized what was going on.

Vera was masturbating!

Anita stared fixedly at the sight of the girl's fingers rubbing back and forth over her pussy, exposed as it was now since she had already pushed aside her panties to achieve the purpose of bringing herself off.

Anita couldn't speak, nor could she move. Transfixed and stunned she dumbly stared at the young girl pleasuring herself.

Her heart thudding wildly, Anita shifted her glance to the seventeen inch plasma monitor. And what she saw there was absolutely stunning.

Rapidly shifting clips depicted a couple of naked porn starlets performing amazing acrobatics with a well-hung black stud. It wasn't a complete movie, because the clips were disjointed and there was no continuation whatsoever.

There was the black man hunched behind a kneeling auburn haired woman, thrusting back and forth furiously even as the woman had her face stuck between the spread out legs of the second red haired woman.

Then there was the man standing on the bed, the two women crouched in front, kneeling on the floor, sucking the man's cock alternately. At one point, the women had their lips wrapped around the sides of the shaft and in doing so, kissing each other.

Anita felt faint: almost drained out. Just a few moments ago, she was wondering about being an old maid in need of some sex and here she was now, looking at the porn clip.

So taken in was she by the figures on the monitor, that for a moment, she almost ignored the sight of Vera's hand rubbing her pussy.

And then another scene replaced the clip. Here, the man had straddled the redhead's stomach, his cock moving back and forth between her huge tits. The auburn haired woman knelt opposite, alternately kissing the redhead and then sucking the crown of the cock when it appeared from above the redhead's tits.

And then she tore her eyes away from the monitor and dragged them down to look at Vera.

Vera had a neatly trimmed pussy and the fact that she had spread her legs apart, had opened her rosy cunt lips. She was rubbing the entire length of the slit, occasionally giving her clit a sharp twist.

Anita had never really looked at Vera in that way. Admittedly, she was a pretty girl, petite and with an innocent face. She remembered when she had first interviewed her; the girl seemed to be so nervous and flustered that she couldn't answer over half the questions that Anita had asked her.

Later, when she learned Vera's background, (her dad had been tricked by his partner and his business had gone kaput) and then with her daughter's insistence (Aw, mom, give her a break, she'll learn the tricks of the trade all right!) she had finally appointed her.

Vera always dressed conservatively. She was very prim and proper: loose blouses, long skirts, loose gowns and such stuff that never revealed any part of her figure. So Anita had chosen what she knew was an appropriate uniform for the girl. White loose cotton blouse with long sleeves and a knee length frilly white skirt, and it suited her. It allowed her to make easy and quick movements and she looked very proper and very presentable.

At this moment however, Anita realized that there was nothing prim and proper about her maid. The girl had brazenly spread her legs wide apart, had hitched her skirt up over her waist and pulled the blouse (unbuttoned) down to her bra covering firm young tits.

It struck Anita that Vera was a very sexy girl indeed. With her practiced eyes, Anita could almost measure the girl's assets. She was, Anita correctly presumed, about thirty-four in the tit department and now that her waist was bare, Anita knew the tape would indicate perhaps a twenty-four, or maybe twenty-five. Since she was sitting on the chair, she wasn't sure about her buttocks, but her long legs and the creamy thighs were very slim indeed.

The clip on the monitor now showed the two women kneeling opposite each other, their tits mashed together as they kissed deeply. The black man stood beside them on one side, poking his astonishingly long cock between their tits. The camera zoomed to show the black cock moving up and down between four tits.

Though Anita was angry that her maid should be doing this in the privacy of her son's bedroom, there was a weak feeling inside her. A feeling that gradually increased the heat within her body.

Perhaps, she reasoned, that the clip was turning her on, because she had just been thinking about sex when she was in the bathroom. But gradually, her eyes lingered more and more on the girl's fingers playing with her pussy.

Anita felt a hot flush rise on her face and suddenly the room seemed to her to be too cramped. She felt her chest constricting as she watched the girl with the innocent face masturbating unabashedly at the sight of the erotic clips flashing one after the other on the monitor.

Anita suddenly realized that the movement of the girl's fingers were suddenly increasing pace, almost frenzied and without the gentle rhythm she had created before. She also heard Vera moaning softly and when Anita watched the girl slipping a finger inside her pussy, she was startled and looked up.

The scene, which had obviously set off Vera's impending climax, was playing out on the monitor. The black man was spurting his seed directly over the women's face, coating their skin with copious amount of the semen.

Anita tried hard, but couldn't stifle the gasp that she now uttered.

And just like that, Vera's spell was broken.

She was on the edge of an orgasm when she heard the gasp. Startled and frightened, she swiftly turned around on the swivel chair, her right hand coming off the mouse and flying upward to cover her semi-exposed tits.

"W-what?" she cried out.

Her eyes were wide-open and expressed utter shock, humiliation and fear as they bore into Anita's.

On her part, Anita was speechless. Her brain refused to work and she found that she was completely at a loss for words. She simply stood there, staring at the girl, her eyes taking in the half naked body and the expression on the face.

"What," she managed to say hoarsely, "The hell is going on?"

The girl had managed to pull down the bra cups and the blouse, though it remained unbuttoned. She pulled her skirt rapidly down her hips, dragging the panties along with it, bringing her legs together. Her hands fluttered and shook as she tried to shut down the PC.

"Wait!" Anita's voice cracked out. "What do you think you are doing in my son's room on his computer and practically bare assed?"

The girl momentarily ignored the computer and looked at her mistress, the blush evident on her face. "I-I c-can ex-explain, I m-mean I-I didn't mean to..."

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byfluidline1© 4 comments/ 68215 views/ 17 favorites

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