For George, it had been a day unlike any other. Out of the ashes of one of the worst days of his life, in which he had been picked on, scolded, beaten up, and humiliated, sprung a new day that had quickly become the most joyous he had ever experienced.
He had found a magical Persian tar. When played correctly, it unleashed the essence of a sexual genie servant who was bonded to him for life. He had named her Dawn, after her striking pair of light blue eyes flecked with red and gold, which reminded George of a sunrise. The rest of her was just as beautiful. She had long and feathered honey-colored hair, a lithe and curvaceous body, and a disposition so enchanting that one would have trouble not melting into a puddle of hapless goo the moment she said hello. But for George, she seemed to have the opposite effect. When before he had felt meek and timid, he now felt stronger and livelier around her. After spending the day getting to know her, Dawn had revealed to him that she was in love with him. And magical bond or not, she always would be.
After many years of fear and self-loathing, this revelation had a great impact on George. He had never believed that anyone would ever love him. The hope that his bad days were behind him had broke him down. As Dawn hugged him tightly, years of pain seeped into the collar of her light blue pajama top. She had allowed him to feel safe, and their bond had grown even stronger.
Now that his life had turned a corner, George was emotionally exhausted, and not to mention physically thanks to the copious amounts of amazing sex. He felt like he needed a nap. But it was still mid afternoon, and he was worried that if he went to sleep again Dawn wouldn’t be there when he awoke. Instead, he decided a nice leisurely movie would help him rejuvenate and allow him to spend more time with his dream girl. She agreed excitedly as it was to be her first cinematic experience.
“Why don’t you pick,” he offered.
She beamed at him and moved to the DVD collection next to the TV. George loved the way she bent and posed for him as she perused the collection. She would stand on her toes to reach the top of the shelf for some random box and then twist to show off the curve of her perfect butt and her graceful legs. “Hmmm, King Kong…” she said, “nah, too long.” Then she knelt and thrust her ass into the air as she reached for another box, “Saw, eww gross.” She continued through the collection being sure to give George all the best views of her delicious figure. She would make sure the outline of her perky breasts was visible even though she was facing away from him.
Eventually she found a movie that excited her and dived into George’s lap to show him. “Harry Potter?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Please! It looks like fun,” she gave him a sexy pout and bounced up and down, which did wonderful things to her braless tits.
“Okay, okay! Put it in.”
She began to pull his cock out of his pants.
“The movie you little minx!”
“Darn, I thought I had you there,” she laughed. She jumped off his lap and moved to the entertainment center. It took her a few minutes, but she figured out how the TV and DVD player worked and returned to George’s lap.
As the movie played, Dawn watched in complete fascination. She would gasp and clap excitedly at Harry’s victories, and boo his enemies. All the while she would bounce on George’s lap as he wrapped his arms around her taut stomach. She was particularly fascinated by the wands. “Ooh, that is neat! I want a wand George!” she exclaimed.
She stopped bouncing as a sudden realization hit her, “Wait a second … I DO have a wand.” She crawled off of George’s lap and pulled out his hardened cock. “8 and a half inches of pure mahogany,” she said as she stroked him slowly.
George was only beginning to recover, but reached his full length in record time thanks to her expert ministrations. However, he was still a little sore from their previous encounter in which he had, almost literally, fucked her brains out. “Oh babe, I don’t want to tell you to stop but…”
“Do not tell me then,” she interrupted, “just relax and let me give you a little taste of what is in store for you for the rest of your life.”
“But I’m still recovering from last time and I don’t want you to miss the movie.”
“I can do both. And besides,” she flashed him a sexy grin, “you are always just one wish away from being ready.”
He thought for a second, which wasn’t easy at that particular moment, and said, “I wish to be completely rejuvenated so that I can enjoy a relaxing handjob from my beautiful girlfriend.”
The tingle returned along with the flash of gold from her eyes. He felt completely refreshed and his cock seemed even harder then it had been before. She moved in close to kiss him and purred, “Mmm, you are so sweet. I am very lucky to have such a great guy as my boyfriend.” She smiled happily, “I cannot believe I just called you that. You do not mind, do you George?”
“You know I don’t. It’s official now.”
“Could you … say it again?” she said sheepishly. Her eyes glistened from the light of the TV.
George could tell this meant a lot to her. He looked deep into her eyes and said, “Dawn, you are my wonderful, intelligent, beautiful girlfriend, and I am your ever-grateful and completely undeserving boyfriend.”
Dawn leaned in to kiss him again and let it linger for while. She continued to stroke him slowly with both hands as her lips danced across his. George ran his fingers through her hair and caressed her cheek were he felt a little dampness. It wasn’t a lot, but it made him feel really good to be able to make her that happy with so small a gesture. Then he thought that maybe it wasn’t so small a thing. After all, it had meant so much to him just to hear her say three little words.
As they kissed, he thought about what it must be like for her to have to be prepared to be treated like a slave. He just couldn’t think of her that way. If anything, he felt enslaved to her. It was a feeling he relished. He decided then that he wanted her as Dawn, not just his Genie; and that would mean she would have to find an identity outside of her need to gain his approval. He wanted her to love him because he deserved it, not because some Major Genie two-thousand years ago decided she would. It was a tall order, he had no idea how to go about it, but it was something that he felt very strongly about.
In any case, he wanted very much for her to know how much she mattered to him. He just couldn’t think of the right words. He knew what he thought he should say, that he loved her too, but he still wasn’t ready to say it. With nothing else on the tip of his tongue, except hers, he filed the thought away and let himself enjoy her attentions.
True to her word, she was able to watch the movie and give him a stellar handjob at the same time. She had produced a bottle of some gel-like substance out of thin air, and used it to keep him slick and cool. It was very slow and easy, unlike their previous encounters that day which had been explosions of passion, sweat, and screams. As she watched and stroked, she continued her youthfully exuberant exclamations at the movie. Whenever a character would perform a spell with a wand, she would use her “wand” to do the same thing.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” shouted the on-screen Ron.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” exclaimed Dawn, and the bottle of slick gel floated over to her so she could apply more to George’s turgid shaft. The two broke down into hysterics.
After a little more than half-way through the film, George was on the verge of a large climax. Dawn paused the movie so that she could devote her complete attention to him. She knelt on the floor between his legs and continued her slow methodical movements. She looked directly into his eyes and he could see her own passion building up as well. It took him a moment to remember his wish that she feel any pleasure she gave him and realized that she was about to cum too. Still she stroked slowly, though she gripped his cock a little more tightly.
“Oh George,” she said in a husky voice, “you make the best wishes.”
Her lips trembled as she breathed ragged breaths. Her nipples poked through her shirt. She had a hard, glazed look about her. “Cum for me George,” she said in almost a whisper, “Cum all over your girlfriend’s face. Cover me with your cum.”
He felt the steady rush of his orgasm pour through him. He grunted as long white ropes of his cum drenched her nose, chin, and lips. More coated her forehead and cheeks and dripped down in large gobs to the floor. She moaned loudly as her own climax overtook her. “Oh yes! Give it to me George! So much … so much cum!” she yelled as she jacked him off.
George looked down at her lightly glazed face in awe, both of Dawn and her enthusiasm, and the size of his ejaculation. He couldn’t remember ever cuming that much before. He watched her in silence as she caught her breath. Her breasts heaved in her light blue top. Once she regained control of herself she reached down underneath the waistband of her pajamas and dipped her fingers into her sopping pussy. She brought them up slowly to her face where she mixed them with his cum and sucked the mixture off her finger. “Thank … thank you George,” she said with a shudder.
“Um … you’re welcome, babe. Are you okay?”
Dawn continued to suck globs of his cum from her fingers, “Yes, but I think I may have something of sperm fetish.” She giggled as she made more of a mess trying to clean herself up than George did messing her up. Eventually, she gave up trying to get it all before it dripped on the floor and summoned the magical washcloth to finish the job properly.
As Dawn cleaned George first and then herself, George asked, “Was that you or me?”
“You mean that impressive load? A combination really. Part of it was the fact that I am quite good at giving handjobs, another was the fact that you were fully rejuvenated and had been stimulated for a long time. But you have been giving me loads like this all day, this is just the first one you have actually seen.”
George thought back and realized she was right. He had always cum inside her up to that point. “But I’ve never done that on my own,” he said.
“Yes, well, you had never been with a woman before. Your body knows when it is alone. With a partner, our systems go into overdrive. Human systems do anyway. My systems are always turned up,” she said with a saucy grin.
“Well, whatever the reason, that was amazing.”
“Thank you very much, Hotstuff!” She jumped up onto his lap and leaned in to kiss him again.
But then he remembered that she had just been slurping down his cum like she was at a wine tasting and stopped her. “Whoa, whoa. First, I wish for both of us to be completely clean and refreshed so that we can enjoy the rest of this movie together. Like normal couples do, not sex crazed magical Genies and Masters.”
Tingle. Flash. “Thank you! And phooey,” she pouted.
“Hey, I said like normal couples. I think normal couples like to fool around a little during movies. Don’t they?.”
She nearly tackled him and kissed him with infectious enthusiasm. “This couple does!” she said when they finally broke from the kiss.
Eventually, they put the movie back on and actually managed to watch it the whole way through without any more wishes. Though that didn’t prevent them from indulging in a few gropes, fondles, kisses, and embraces. George spent a good portion of the film sneaking grabs at her perfect breasts and butt while Dawn made half-hearted attempts at stopping him.
As the credits rolled all semblance of normalcy evaporated, and the pair dissolved into a sea of passionate tongue twisting. But after a while their kissing became slower and more tender. Dawn surprised him by finding a sensitive spot on his neck where she licked and sucked for bit. The sensations made George squirm and laugh. It wasn’t until the DVD switched back to the title screen and replayed its theme song a few times that they stopped. George held her tightly as she lay on top of him and stroked the silky golden-brown hair that he loved so much. She scrunched her arms up between them and laid her head down on George’s broad chest as she purred softly.
Finally, George asked, “So how did you like the movie?”
“It was great! It was a little preposterous, but so exciting! That’s a fantasy story?” she asked as she turned to meet his eyes.
“Yep, there are bunch more in that series too. We can watch the rest sometime if you like.”
She flashed him a heart stopping smile, “I would like that very much, as long as we can watch them together.” She gave him another sweet peck on the lips. “I think fantasy might be my favorite type of story.”
George suddenly had an idea that was too good to let go. “Dawn, come up to my room. I want to show you something.”
She shivered slightly, “Ooh, goody.”
The two made their way across the house towards the stairs. Normally such an activity would have been quite forgettable. But with Dawn involved, the simple act of moving from one place to another took a great deal of effort. She led him by the hands while she would periodically sneak flirtatious touches to his muscles and his cock. Even when she wasn’t playfully nipping at him, George found it difficult to keep his hands off of her. Dawn went up the stairs first, giving George an unparalleled view of her delicious curves, barely hidden behind her light blue pajamas. Without thinking, George reached up, gripped her butt roughly, and kissed the small of her back. She feigned a gasp and turned around. She sat on a step a few higher then George, spread her legs, and pulled him on top of her, moaning lustfully as they started making out again.
While George was indeed ready for another round of passionate love-making, he had a gift for her that he was certain she would like that wasn’t something he could wish for, and he was very excited to give it too her. At least as far as he could figure, he could only wish for something if it involved love or sex. What he had in mind was more cerebral. But despite his heroic attempts at disengaging from her delectable mouth, Dawn kept him entwined. With no other recourse, George wrapped one arm around her bare waist and swung her over his shoulder. She yelped and giggled and kicked her legs up and down as George carried her the rest of the way up the stairs.
As they entered his room, George slid Dawn off his shoulder until she was cradled in his arms. He then laid her down on his bed gently. She struggled to plant kisses on his face and neck all the while.
He laughed, “C’mon babe, I have a present for you.”
“Really?” she squealed.
“Yeah. But sit right there. I need to do some digging first.” Dawn gave him a look that seemed to say “huh,” but she obeyed. She reclined on his bed, making sure to twist and bend in a way that would give him the best view of her body.
George stepped over a few piles of dirty clothes and almost tripped over the Persian tar which had been Dawn’s home for more than two-thousand years. He picked it up and leaned it against the wall next to his guitar. The ivory carving at the top was still cracked wide up the center. George noticed that Dawn was watching him nervously as he handled the tar and then relaxed when she realized he was merely putting it away.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m not going to put you back in your vessel.”
Reassured, Dawn smiled and nodded. George moved to his closet and began tossing smelly clothes, shoes, and a few old action figures out of the way. As he worked he asked, “How did you fit in that thing anyway? Even being a gas it still would’ve been a tight fit.”
She giggled a cute giggle, “I was not a gas George. I was raw potential. I was everything and nothing at the same time. You make it sound like I could fill a balloon.”
“You are, at the very least, a force of nature. But seriously, were you hiding in a black hole or something?” he asked as he moved a large stack of comic books.
Dawn watched him very closely, periodically raising her eyebrows at the different items he produced from his seemingly bottomless closet. “Actually, I do not think I have been entirely clear about how a Genie’s vessel works. You see, the tar was not the actual vessel itself. It is merely the doorway to the vessel. The actual vessel is a small demi-plane, a tiny universe completely serperate from your own, which is only accessible through the doorway’s magic. Think of it like this: my vessel is a room with a locked door. This door can take on many forms, in this case, a tar. The key to this door can also take on many forms, in this case, a specific song.”
“I get it … I think. And if someone where to open the door to the vessel without the key…”
“That would be very difficult to do. First, the doorway is virtually indestructible and tamper proof to all but the most powerful beings, and I cannot even speculate as to who those beings would be. Secondly, even if they opened the door to the vessel, the magic of the vessel requires the key for the Genie’s essence to be released. So they would go to a tremendous amount of trouble for nothing. They would find the vessel empty. The only exceptions that I know of are the Genie Kings and Major Genies.”
George took in all that she said in quiet contemplation. The more he found out about Genies, the more he felt like he had won some kind of cosmic lottery. “So what is it like inside this little universe? Are there tons of pillows laying around a giant hookah, like in the TV shows?”
“Like I said before, it is difficult to explain logically. All I can really say with certainty is that I do not want to go back.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, before, I was pure potential. I did not have a personality or emotions or even a body. There was everything, but nothing at the same time. Now that I am fully formed and self-aware, I am afraid that I would be very lonely inside all by myself. I would not be aware of anything going on outside the vessel and I would be afraid that the vessel may never be opened again. And … it is the only place where I could not feel you.”
George paused his rummaging and sat back on his knees. He felt a sudden twinge in his heart at her mention of being lonely. Loneliness was a feeling he knew well. Dawn kept talking.
“Of course, I would go back inside if you wished it. And if someone else somehow managed to open the vessel with me inside, I would still belong to you. It is just that…”
“Dawn.”
“Yes George.”
“I won’t ever make that wish,” he said very sternly, “you’re never going back into your vessel.” He looked over his shoulder at her, “Understand?”
“Y … yes Master. I did not mean to imply that you would. I mean … it would be acceptable if you felt it necessary. I am sorry,” she lowered her head in shame.
George was slightly alarmed at the honorific. He had never been prone to outbursts of any extreme emotion. The memories of his old life, the life before Dawn, had created a fatherly need in him to protect her. But he realized it had come out sounding like a dog owner yanking something out of a young pup’s mouth. He felt terrible for his sudden lack of tact.
He sighed heavily and said, “I didn’t mean it like that Dawn. That was rude and uncalled for. I got carried away. What I meant to say was that I wouldn’t do that to you, not after what you’ve given me, and certainly not after … forgive me?”
Their eyes locked. Understanding and grace filled her countenance. “There is no need, George. You were remembering what it was like to be lonely, and you took a stand against it, not me. I am proud of you actually.”
“Yeah, well, I still feel bad. Don’t really know where that came from.”
Dawn shrugged, “It is fine George, I still love you.”
His stomach did two back flips, “I um … I…” he stammered.
“You were going to give me a present,” she said happily.
He smiled, knowing that she let him dodge the bullet. “Yes indeed,” he said with enthusiasm, “sorry that it’s taking me so long. It’s been a while since I’ve actually used any of them.”
She clapped her hands together excitedly, “You mean there is more than one?”
“You’ll see,” he said slyly.
Finally, he had cleared the debris from around his gift. “Okay, Dawn, close your eyes. And no peeking.”
She smiled knowingly at him and shut her eyes. George had no idea that the act of closing one’s eyes could be so sexy, but then he thought that Dawn could be wearing a HAZ-MAT suit and still look sexy. She reclined on his bed and waited patiently for her next command.
George walked over to her and picked her up carefully. Without any prompting, she leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes still relaxed and closed. He could almost feel the warmth of her smile.
He carried her over to his closet, set Dawn on her feet, and guided her to her knees in front of a wooden, knobby, waist high bookcase completely filled end to end with small paperback books. Creases along the spines indicated that they had been read several times over.
“Okay, open your eyes,” he said quietly.
She did so slowly and examined the bookcase. George stayed quiet as she took in the site before her. “These … these are stories.”
“Fantasy stories,” corrected George. “This is my collection, all my favorites. Whenever I was feeling down I would lose myself in a book for a while until the feeling passed. I used to imagine myself as the heroes in the stories, slaying dragons and saving maidens and whatnot. It would make me feel better, for a little while at least.”
“Why did you stop,” her voice was filled with awe.
“I started to believe that nobody in the real world really thought that way. I would read a story that had inspired me when I was a kid, but when I compared it to my own experience, things just didn’t add up. Good and evil are never that absolute. Love stories are never that simple. Friendships never last that long. It started to make me feel even worse when I kept trying to hang on to those ideas and everyone thought I was stupid.”
He sighed heavily once more, his eyes downcast. “No, that’s not true,” he said sadly. “I gave up. I just, stopped trying. I guess I thought the maidens would rather date the dragons then be saved by me.
But now that I have you, I know that I was wrong. A lot of what I am, a lot of what I hoped to be, is in those books. They taught me about myself. It’s why I know what friendship is even though I don’t have any friends. It’s how I know that if you love me like you say you do, then I should try to be worthy of it. It’s how I know that I don’t want you to be my slave, but my equal.”
George held her. “Dawn, you made me realize how important these are to me. And now I want you to have them.”
“You mean, you are giving them all, to me?” she asked wide-eyed.
“On one condition. When you read them, I want you to think about what the stories mean to you, not just what it means to me that you are reading them. I want you to enjoy them, or hate them, because it is what you feel.”
Dawn wore a look of unabashed wonderment as she ran her index finger along the spines of the books. She stopped at a familiar title and pulled the book free. It was the book version of the movie they had just watched. She stared at the cover lovingly.
He continued, “I know they are just books, but when I saw how much you liked the movie I thought you might enjoy the real thing. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something in those books that will teach you something about yourself, just like they did for me.”
She hugged the book tight across her chest and said, “They are not just books. They are you.” She looked up at him, her beautiful dawn colored eyes glistened, “I will take very good care of them.”
George leaned in and kissed her forehead, “I know you will.”
Feeling very good about himself, George thought he should leave her be for the moment so that she could explore her gift more completely. He stood up and surveyed the devastation in his room. Unlike the mess in the kitchen, this one was completely his own doing. Even before he had emptied his closet to clear a path to the bookcase, the place had looked like a war-zone, with old action figures acting like generals directing their armies of books over mountains of dirty clothing. Now it looked like the proverbial bomb had gone off. He had resolved to give the place a thorough scrubbing when he heard Dawn’s voice behind him.
“George,” she said in her now familiar sultry tone, “I have a gift for you too.”
George turned around and almost choked on his tongue at what he saw. Dawn was at the entrance to his closet dressed in an almost perfect recreation of a Hogwart’s uniform. It was made even more perfect thanks to the alterations she made. Rather than looking frumpy, the costume was cut to hug every inch of her perfect body. Her long shapely legs were made even more so thanks to a pair of black pumps and white knee high stockings. The skirt was definitely much shorter than any respectable witch would have worn, stopping just before her lightly tanned mid thigh. Her blouse acted more like a corset than a blouse and pushed her large perky breasts up higher then usual. With the top few buttons undone, the view was mesmerizing. Rather than a cloak, she wore a long silk scarf that blended blue, red, and gold in horizontal bands up its length. It flowed in two long tendrils down her back. Her skirt and tie matched the scarf’s colors, although the tie looked quite comical nestled uselessly in her cleavage. All told, George thought she looked dazzling and his throbbing cock poked noticeably against his sweat pants in response. He stood their dazed with his mouth open.
“You like?” Dawn asked as she pranced around in a tight circle to give him all the best views. Her scarf twirled around her in graceful swirls. Her pleated skirt flared up and George caught sight of her white panties.
George tried to say, “Ohmyfuckingodyes!” But what he actually said came out even less coherent than that.
Dawn gave him a heavenly laugh and said, “I will assume that was an affirmative.”
George nodded dumbly.
“But this is not the complete extent of my gift. How would you like to go there?”
“Where? Too Hogwart’s?”
She nodded.
“You can do that?”
“With a wish, Yes. I said before that I could create fantasies for you without limit. The only stipulation would be that there would have to be sex involved.”
“Oh, darn,” he said jokingly.
She laughed again. “I have to warn you though, while you are in the fantasy, time will pass in the real world. An hour in a fantasy would amount to roughly an hour in our world. Of course, as your mastery of my powers grows, and your confidence in yourself grows, that ratio would change in your favor. Also, there is a limit on the amount of time you can spend in a fantasy. You opened my vessel just under 18 hours ago, so you have accrued 18 hours of fantasy time.”
“Okay, I don’t want to stay there for a full 18 hours. Maybe an hour or two would suffice.”
“That should be fine. Right now you can experience a single fantasy up to six hours long, but again, that should get longer as we spend more time together and the more confidant you become. Oh, and you cannot experience more than one fantasy in any 24 hour period, to prevent you from spending too much time in a fantasy world.”
“This is one of those weird Genie rules isn’t it?”
“Yes, sorry George. It was put in place long ago, because a few Masters refused to deal with the real world and retreated completely into their fantasies. These Masters were powerful men with tremendous responsibility. Trapping themselves in a fantasy was not healthy for anyone. It is something I do not have a control over.”
Despite his limitations, George was very excited about the prospect of living out the fantasies from his books, “So, if I wished to fight some orcs and then make love to you dressed up like an elf for six hours, you could do that?”
Tingle. She smiled happily and said, “Yes, that would be fine. That sounds like a lot of fun actually. And I wouldn’t really be dressed up like an elf, I would be an elf. However, for any fantasy I would need to have a basic script of events and any other details you feel are important.”
“Well right now I am feeling inspired by your ‘uniform’. What do I need to do?”
She leaned in and rubbed his erection lightly through his pants. She bit her lip as she said softly, “Why don’t you get comfortable, and then you can tell me what you dream about. Then, I will make your dream come true.” She had that look in her eye that George had come to recognize as her unbridled affection.
George felt a little weak-kneed as she pulled him down low enough so that she could kiss him deeply as she continued to caress his member. She pushed him backwards lightly until he hit the bed and fell backwards, pulling her on top of him. His stomach did three back flips.
She straddled him, “So George, are you comfortable yet?” she asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable being so uncomfortable in my entire life,” he said breathlessly in between kisses.
“Then would Master like to be less comfortable?”
He just grunted in confirmation.
Without her moving from their kiss, George felt his pants slide down and his hard cock enter her slick warm tunnel. She didn’t ride him so much as milk him. He could feel her walls slowly pulse and pull and tighten around him. The thought occurred to him that her panties should have been in the way, but quickly dismissed it when he remembered she was genie. He thought she could probably still be wearing her panties and just make them immaterial or something. He swooned as he imagined the lengths that Dawn could and probably would go just to fuck him.
Over the next half-hour, George relayed to Dawn a fantasy that been swimming in his head for a while. Dawn continued her slow milking, increasing her intensity as George relayed some of the more lurid details. He had been resisting the urge to reach up and play with his most favorite pair of breasts in the whole world because he didn’t want to mess up her uniform. But he couldn’t hold back as their mutual orgasm approached. She feigned indignation as her tie and blouse were hopelessly disheveled by George’s large hands, but the sensations quickly melted her coherence. Even as big as George’s hands were, the flesh of her breasts overflowed and spilled out between his thick fingers. Minutes later, they both finished riding out the crests of their equally earth-shattering orgasms.

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“We did a lot of talking after that. We told ourselves that we were adults, that
incest didn’t really apply to us because we weren’t kids, and this was something
we wanted to do.” Carol shrugged again. “So we did it! First, just by ourselves,
alone, I mean. Then we got daring and did it together and that was even a bigger
kick. The rest is history.”
Carol turned to her daughter. Marsha hadn’t heard the last part of the story.
She had fallen asleep, exhausted, a smile on her face and a finger inserted,
deep, in her pussy.
Carol covered her with her robe. She hadn’t told her about the other couples
that they had fucked; orgies, really, but, she thought, that could wait. So
could all the video’s, the evidence of their combined pleasures. Yes, it all
could wait. There had been enough excitement for one night in the Bradford
house.
**************************
Carol paused outside of Peter’s room. She listened at the door, but heard no
sound. Did she dare try to talk to him, make him understand his sister’s
desires, prepare him for what she was sure would come? What would she say to
him?
She hesitated, a trembling hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she
turned the knob. The nightlight bathe the room in a soft, semi-darkness. The bed
was turned down, but had not been slept in. Surprised, she looked at the clock.
It was after midnight. Where could he be? Her mind started to race with concern
before she finally realized that Peter wasn’t a boy anymore. Wherever he was, he
could take care of himself.
She sat on the bed, suddenly exhausted; her pluck dissolving, leaving her sleepy
and forlorn. She would rest, just for a moment. Peter! You poor baby, she
thought as she laid down, you’re surrounded by people who have taken a different
road than you. Please try to understand, her drifting mind asked the enfolding
darkness.
Carol dozed, her mind flitting from memory to memory. The full wonders of sex
and passion had come somewhat late to her, aided by an exciting accident. Her
body had responded to dormant stimuli, and suddenly, yesterday’s perversions
became today’s pleasures. Behind closed doors, her passion knew no bounds,
everything was pleasure. There were no taboos. Only in the light of day did the
dread of exposure clutch at her heart, but it was night, and she was safe to
dream, to feel, and to want.
*************************
Peter didn’t pay any attention to the light in the den as he slowly, and
quietly, started to climb the stairs. His legs hurt like hell and his shoulders
bore teeth and nail marks, vivid testimony to his aunt’s passion. He shook his
head, still not quite believing what had happened.
It had been insane! But it had also been, maddeningly exciting. He could still
feel his cock pushing the walls of Mary’s hot cunt apart; the slippery wetness
sucking him deep into an unbelievable molten furnace. Her legs had gone around
his waist and she had plunged her ass up and down his rigid cock as hard as she
could, all the time digging her fingers into his shoulders and nipping at his
chest. Her cunt was a gushing volcano, a vicious vise that clamped on his prick
and refused to let go. And all the while, her hips churned, frantically turning
one way then the other, trying their best to rip his cock off.
He had held her up by the asscheeks, trying to control her rhythm; match her
passion, but she was so wild he had trouble just hanging on. Her cums had
started almost immediately, building one on top of the other until he could no
longer tell when or how many. She just kept cumming, and when he shot his load,
the top of his head almost came off.
He had never fucked anyone so wild.
They had sunk to the bottom of the pool, the cooling water up to their chins.
“Just what I like,” she had said huskily, “good, hard cock! We’re going to have
lots of fun, sweet nephew.”
“Aunt Mary . . .”
“Mary! Just, Mary,” she said with a smile. “I’m not that much older than you.”
“Haw! If I didn’t, I sure know now. But what about uncle John?”
He was surprised when she threw back her head and laughed. She put her arms
around him and held his face close. “If he’s a good boy, I may let him make a
movie of us fucking each other. He’s like that.”
It was a crazy statement, but Peter’s hands had already encircled her waist and
were drifting up to her full tits. Mary had a lovely set of tits, he thought,
fondling them, making her moan with renewed passion, almost as nice as Marsha’s.
His cock twitched again as he remembered his sister standing in the bathroom,
her beautiful tits proud and erect. Mary giggled. “Ooooo, goody,” she said.
“Round two.”
This time they fucked on the pool stairs, with the water lapping at her pussy
again; her legs up high on his shoulders. Afterwards, she had cleaned his sticky
cock with her mouth, her tongue searching for every last, tacky, smear of
cum-juice. Her mouth was warm and soft and moist. When she was finished he was
squeaky clean and he had another hard-on.
“Oh, boy, am I tempted, but my pussy’s been pounded like a rock today.” Her hand
circled his thick shaft, her fingers barely touching. “You keep this ready for
another time. If I know my family, you’re going to have a very busy weekend.”
That was the second crazy thing she had said, he thought as he reached his room.
She was a great piece of ass but he was convinced that she was a bit wacky. He
opened his door.
His hand froze on the doorknob and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t
believe his eyes. Marsha lay coiled up on the bed, her back to him. The soft,
semi-darkness created erotic shadings in the valleys of her body. He looked
around hastily. It was no mistake. He was in his own room!
Despite the time spent with his aunt, Peter got a hard- on as he eyed her
shapely buttocks and watched her chest rise and fall, rhythmically. His mind
filled with images of her loveliness, flaming his frustration and his passion.
Slowly, he approached the bed, aware that he should turn and leave before she
woke, but just once, he wanted to get close to her – just once, put his arms
around her.
Carol knew she was dreaming and she smiled in the twilight world of half-sleep.
She felt her dream lover’s approach and the bed sag under his weight. She curled
her body to fit his contours, feeling the prodding stiffness of his heavy cock,
warm, against her back. She pushed back with her ass. The stiff prick twitched
as it touched her back and asscheeks and a low moan escaped her lips.
She knew he was young and strong. All her dream lovers were. His arm came across
her body and cupped her sensitive tit. An electric shock tingled her cunt and
she began to juice up. Lewdly, she rubbed her ass up against his rigid fuckpole.
It felt wonderful, and thrilling and her breathing became ragged.
His hand kneaded her full tit, and toyed with the nipple, making it stand hard
and erect. Turning to him, she moaned in real passion, her face still hidden by
the darkness. She sighed as her hands encircled his cock, the thing she craved.
It was thick, and meaty, and long, and the head was moist with passion.
Dreamily, she cooed. It would fill her wonderfully.
She heard her dream lover mumble, but couldn’t catch the words. It didn’t
matter. He slid down her trembling body, opening her robe, exposing her pleasure
pit. She ran her hands over his hard body as he went by, feeling his strength,
his vitality. Her body jumped and arched upward as his mouth clamped on her
cunt. She wailed in loud surprise. Shooting bolts of lightening surged through
her body as his tongue rammed through the blonde thatch, into her dewy cunt. Her
eyes snapped open and a cold sliver of reality stabbed her mind.
This was no dream! This was real! Someone was eating her pussy! Her mind fought
against the enormity of it all while her body begged her to surrender to the
wonderful pleasures that were charging upward to her brain. Her eyes were
blurring. She dug her fingers into his hair and tried to pull his head, to
recognize him, but he couldn’t be budged. His face, buried in her mound,
remained hidden in the darkness.
“No!” she hissed. “No! Stop! . . . please! Oh, God, that feels so good.” She
gasped and her mind whirled and she felt the fight go out of her body as his
tongue swirled around her puffy cuntlips, leaving a trail of wet, tingling
pleasures behind. Her juice flowed like a river as another sharp bolt of
pleasure coursed through her steaming pussy. She grabbed his hair, this time
twisting his face into her pleasure-raw pussy, smearing her tart, musky,
love-juice all over him.
“Oh, yessss!” she panted. “Suck my cunt! Lick my juice! Oh, God! Make me cum!
Ohhhhhh . . . I love it so much! . . . Whoever you are . . . please make me
cum!” she moaned in a small, desperate voice.
Peter was in another world. Years of fantasy, of frustration, of suppressed
desire had sent his mind to a place where convention and morality, even words
could not enter. Morality be dammed, he thought. He was sucking Marsha’s cunt
and nothing else mattered; nothing except the tangy juices that flowed over his
twisting, stabbing tongue.
He felt the fight in her body, heard her demands for release, felt the painful
tugging of his hair, but he refused to let go. Not until he had exorcised this
demon from his body. Not until he had stuffed her full of his engorged cock!
Carol felt the stranger reach over her squirming thighs and pull her cuntlips
apart with his fingers. She knew her naked clitoris was staring at him, pink and
vulnerable. He sucked it into his hot mouth and she jumped and cried out in
passion. Her toes clutched with each smack of his lips and the last long suck
sent a tidal wave of pleasure through her body and triggered her orgasm. She
wailed, hardly aware of where she was, or who she was with. It didn’t matter!
Only the pleasure mattered! She was drowning in pleasure, her body racked with
tic-like spasms, and yet, she wanted more.
Carol’s body heaved, and she panted with sudden exhaustion; perspiration
trickled down her brow but a small smile played at the corners of her lips and
she sighed. Never had she been sucked with such intensity; never with such
passion. Her body shivered and tingled and her cunt drooled at the thought of
being filled. Her eyes opened slowly and she saw the shadowy shape of her real
life dream lover rear up in front of her, his beautiful cock bobbing in front.
It was magnificent! Automatically, she opened her legs to receive him – this
stranger – this pleasure giver.
The moon cast a small silvery light across the room; across his face. Her brain
registered recognition, but didn’t believe, and before she could react it was
too late to save herself.
“Noooooooooo!” she wailed in desperation as Peter drove his rock-hard cock into
her sizzling, dripping, wide-open cunt. His rod parted the waiting pussylips and
sunk easily into the hot depths of her body. She writhed against the mattress,
legs spread; her body involuntarily undulating. She moaned and gibbered
incoherently, but her rational mind screamed at her. You’re fucking your own
step-son!
Fighting against her traitorous body, her fists pounded his humping body. Her
nails raked his heaving back. Still he drove into her, making her cunt contract,
sending fiery thrills throughout her demanding flesh. She bit her lip,
desperately hoping the pain would make her body heed the small, rational voice.
Her charged sensory system erupted as another surge of his powerful cock filled
her up. The small voice faded into the darkness and Carol surrendered to the
most exquisite ecstasy imaginable.
“Uhggggggg! Aaaaaaah! Oh, Peter! Peter!” she gushed as the pleasure of his prick
filled every pore of her body, sweeping her away, into an abyss. She wrapped her
legs around Peter’s loins, digging her heels into his asscheeks, forcing his
cock deeper into the surging volcano of her cunt. His cock felt huge! Mammoth!
It filled her up and pounded her sweaty body down into the mattress again and
again. She twisted her hips lewdly, matching him, stroke for plunging stroke.
Her lips showered him with hot, passionate kisses.
It was deja vu! A beginning and a continuation. It was the supreme taboo! And
the supreme pleasure!
A blinding explosion of primary colors filled her brain and she was swept up in
an excitement that defied descrip- tion. Her only, truly conscious, thought:
Marsha is going to be so very jealous.
Then the tidal wave rolled over her.
“Ohhhhhh! Fuck me!” she whispered, “Fuck meeeee!
“I can’t hold it!” Peter groaned. “Marsha! Baby! I’m cumming! . . .
cummmmmmmmmmm!”
“Yesssssssss!”
Carol’s eyes rolled back and her body shuddered as Peter’s cock flexed violently
in the deep well of her cunt and his cum spurted, hotly, against her
pussy-walls. She dug her fingers into his flesh.
“Eeeeiiiii! Awwwwwwwww! . . . Ohhhhhhh!” Peter gasped through clenched teeth;
his eyes glazing as his erupting cock sent explosions of cum into his fantasy,
his “Marsha.”
Carol clung to his rigid body as his prick still pulsed in her cunt. She jerked
and shuttered like a rag doll; her pleasure so intense, tears ran down her
cheeks.
Peter slumped on her, exhausted, his body dead weight on her yielding flesh. She
held him in tight desperation, trying to forestall the reality that slowly
threatened to shatter this one moment in time.
“Marsha,” Peter mumbled, “. . . forgive me . . . waited so long . . . wanted
you.”
Carol heard his plea for forgiveness and realized what had happened. He thought
she was Marsha! He thought he was fucking her! Oh, my God, she thought, these
poor kids.
Peter propped himself up and pushed the matted hair away from her face. His hand
froze and his face became a mask of disbelief. No! No! This had to be a bad
dream. His tortured mind screamed at him. He couldn’t have fucked his own
mother, he just couldn’t have. His brain was stabbed with the ice cold spear of
his enormous sin. He had fucked his father’s wife! His laugh became hysterical.
Carol gathered him to her and began to make soothing sounds in his ear. She had
to make him understand. There was no sin in pleasure. His feelings for Marsha
were no different than the hidden feeling she had for her brother, or Mike, for
his sister. She felt no remorse. Fucking her stepson was no more a sin than
fucking her brother. She would make him understand. She had to.
She held him at arms length and shook him. “Stop, Peter, stop that!” she
commanded.
“Mom . . . I didn’t know . . . I thought . . . I’m sorry,” he said and his voice
trailed away.
“You thought I was Marsha. I wish it had been, for both your sakes; she would
have loved to be fucked like that, with so much pleasure. But if it couldn’t be
Marsha, I’m glad it was me.”
He stared at her, uncomprehending. “Wha . . . you enjoyed? . . . Marsha? . . .
Being fucked by me? That’s incest!”
Carol smiled and shook his head. “We committed no sin, Peter. Do you understand?
No sin! The only thing we’ve done is share ourselves. Did you enjoy fucking me?”
Suddenly aware of Carol’s lovely nakedness, Peter blushed and shrugged his
shoulders. Then he laughed. “I did enjoy it! I can’t lie about that. You’re a
great fuck . . . I mean . . . ” He shrugged again, eying her body and
remembering the wanton response of her grasping pussy. “That was supposed to be
a compliment.”
Carol hugged him tightly and giggled. “I took it as one. You know, you have a
great cock! I hate to admit it but it’s bigger than your father’s.”
Peter blanched at the mention of his father, but Carol patted his cheek. “I’m
going to tell you a secret, Peter. It’s really a family secret because we’re all
involved, even you and Marsha.
“And after I do that,” – she reached for his sticky, cock and began to finger it
back to life – “I think you’ll want to stick that lovely fuckpole back inside me
and really give me a ride.”
Carol could tell Peter didn’t understand what she was talking about, but her
loving arms were open, beckoning him to her, and when they folded around his
strong body she knew that his understanding would come.

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Matt likes his porn with big boobs but his sister, Maddie, shows him that real is better and a lot more.