Take Your Daughter To Work Day - Version Bravo

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Chapter Fourteen

Bob fairly wallowed in the bed as two lusty nymphs writhed against and on top of him. He had been kissing lips and sucking nipples and stroking pussies for half an hour, and both girls were dripping wet.

Tiffany happened to be on top of him, rubbing her pussy against his erection when she stopped.

"Should I?" she asked, looking at her best friend.

"Do you want to?"

The girl only nodded rapidly. "Can I?"

"Ask him," said Judith, who didn't have much of a track record for asking, herself.

"But he's yours," she said. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I could never be mad at you," said Judith. "I want you to be as happy as I am."

Now Tiffany looked at the man beneath her. "Were you telling me the truth?"

"About wanting you?" he asked. "You're sitting on top of the answer, Tiff."

"That could be for Judith," she said.

"It could be for both of you," he replied.

She leaned down and kissed him yet again. "Thank you," she said, softly.

"My pleasure," he said. "Trust me on that."

She tried to do what Monica had done, but even though it caught in her opening, it didn't pop inside.

"Something's wrong," she whimpered. "It won't go in."

"Be patient," he said. "It's your first time. That can be rough."

"It doesn't hurt," she said. "It just won't go in!"

"Let me help," said Judith.

She had Tiffany rise and then held her father's prick straight up. As Tiffany lowered her body, Judith positioned it.

It bent as she went lower.

She was moaning in frustration as Bob reached to grip himself, leaving only a couple of inches exposed outside his fist.

"Ooo!" gasped Tiffany as those two inches popped inside her. "Now it hurts."

But she didn't complain. Instead, Judith helped her rise off of it, and then sink down again, doing that several times until, about the fourth time of taking him into her, Bob removed his hand and she sank a good four inches.

"Ohhh damn," she groaned. "It didn't look this hard!"

"You'll get used to it," said Bob. "Just take your time."

Five minutes later Tiffany's bottom touched his thighs and she let her full weight down.

"Oh wow," she groaned. "Is it all the way in me?"

"You got the whole thing," he said.

"This isn't so bad," she panted. "It doesn't hurt any more. I just feel really full. I think I'm going to like this."

"Just wait until he moves it around in you," whispered Judith.

Janice had, more than once over the years, worried about the possibility that she might, down deep, be a slut.

It wasn't that she engaged in casual sex as often as possible. St. Clementine's saw to that. But she remembered vividly the anticipation of knowing she was going to get to be alone with her Uncle Jerry, back when she was only fourteen tender years of age, and the spine tingling excitement of also anticipating what she would get to do with Uncle Jerry when he got her alone.

Back then, that had happened only about twice a month. Janice's dad was an airline pilot on a major carrier, and he was gone more often than he was home. But Uncle Jerry was there to teach her how to ride a bike, climb a tree, throw a baseball, and other things like that that a father is often engaged in with his daughter.

Of course he told her what a great job she was doing, and complimented her, so by the time she was twelve he was already her favorite uncle, not to mention one of the top male influences in her life. In years to come she would look back on things he had done and recognize he had been grooming her for the wild sexual affair they eventually had. Such as when, during swimming lessons, he supported her with one hand across her thighs and the other across her chest. When he squeezed a flat, but sensitive breast and apologized, she said "That's okay." So he did that some more. When he supported her as she climbed a tree, with his hand on her butt and his fingers pressing against what her mother called her "binky", the same thing happened. He apologized and she said "That's okay."

So by the time she was fourteen, having her uncle's hands all over her body, casually touching her was something she thought of as completely normal.

Then there had been sex ed class at school, and the questions she had that she couldn't ask anyone except Uncle Jerry about. He was happy to answer them. Sometimes he used his own body as a training aid ... and sometimes he used hers. And when she settled down on top of him that very first time, as her young pussy was filled with hot meat, she had known that this was something she was going to try to do again and again, and as often as possible.

Uncle Jerry had explained that a woman has needs, and he had simply volunteered to help her take care of hers. What she didn't know was that he was also taking care of her mother's needs, while her father was on those long overseas flights.

That was, in fact, how Janice and Uncle Jerry got caught. Uncle Jerry wore English Leather. And when a man wearing English Leather rolls around and gets sweaty with a woman, some of that scent gets off on her. It also gets on the sheets they are rolling around and getting sweaty on.

On laundry day, while Trudy Moeller was washing sheets, she took her own set and pulled them to her nose, inhaling deeply because she knew what they'd smell like. They'd smell like the delicious sex she and Jerry engaged in on those sheets.

But then, when she dipped into Janice's hamper to get her sheets to wash, and pulled them up and out into the air ... she got a whiff of the same scent.

Trudy wasn't stupid. She knew this had to be happening while she was at work. And it had to be after Janice got home from school. That was only a two hour window.

So over the next two weeks, when she went on break during that two hour window, she also drove past the cul-de-sac where they lived. When she saw Jerry's car parked at the house she pulled over and walked past her three neighbor's houses to the north. The front door wasn't even locked.

She found them in Janice's room, playing "Cowgirl and the bucking bronco."

Cowgirl had always been Janice's favorite position. A psychiatrist might have suggested that was because she was in that position the first time Uncle Jerry's prong slid up inside her, or that it gave her a feeling of control over the situation.

Years later, when it came to Tank, however, Cowgirl was simply the most pragmatic way to get his eight inch impossibly thick dick inside her without being crushed.

There are two common types of orgasms most women can enjoy. One is caused by stimulation of the clitoris, the other by stimulation of the tissues of the vaginal walls. In Janice's case, all her orgasms had, thus far, been clitoral ones, with the possible exception of what she'd experienced with BD in the shower room. But that had happened so quickly and tumultuously that it was hard for her to remember the details.

But when she slowly settled on the prick that was twice as large, overall, as Uncle Jerry's, she learned how to enjoy the other kind. She didn't even have to move. The pressure itself started the process, as she sat there, her back ramrod stiff, letting her pussy get used to being stretched so deliciously that she wanted to giggle hysterically. Then muscles she hadn't used in four years provided all the motion that was needed. The added stimulus of Tank's sausage shaped fingers reaching to massage her nipples sent her flying off the cliff, out into space where she closed her eyes and soared on wings of ecstasy that caused tears to roll down her cheeks.

"Am I hurting you?" came Tank's concerned, high-pitched voice.

"Oh no," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I think I love you, Tank."

Then, as that orgasm seeped out of her almost gently, she opened her eyes and looked down at the huge hulking body of a man most other men feared ... and set out to make him her slave.

Ten minutes later, her pussy running with streams of Tank's semen, she flopped onto her back and spread her legs wide, reaching for the other huge, hulking man in the room.

"I need you, BD," she panted.

"Ohhh fuck me to tears," he moaned, crawling up over her.

"No," she said. "Fuck me to tears."

Tiffany's slim, athletic body was perfectly adapted for bouncing up and down on Bob's rigid penis. She was laughing now as her natural instincts caused her to vary her body's posture, experimenting, finding the best possible way to rub against that delicious penis she would never forget.

"You need to get off, baby," panted her lover.

"No!" she laughed. Why on earth would she want to do that? She never wanted to stop!

"I'm going to cum," he warned.

"No!" she yipped again, not because she was worried about the danger of getting his sperm inside her, but because if he spurted, he'd go soft, and that would be a tragedy.

"Judith!" gasped Bob, looking for an ally.

But Judith got down with her lips right in his ear and whispered "Let her feel it just this once."

The expletive he uttered was drawn out in what sounded like agony as his hips came up off the sheet and his prick belched inside the beautiful young girl bouncing on top of him.

"Oooooo," laughed Tiffany as she felt the ball of heat explode deep inside her. She was at once sad, because she knew he'd go soft now. But the luscious feeling of her lover giving her some of his very own body compensated for that. Tiffany was in love. She'd had a crush on this man for years. But now she was in love.

Reluctantly, she accepted the fact that she was exhausted. She had been bouncing wildly for almost fifteen minutes, and she felt like she'd just run four laps around the track at school at top speed. The flat, clean, soft sheets beside Bob looked inviting as she leaned, extended a leg and rolled, wincing at the buildup of lactic acid in her thighs and hips that she hadn't noticed before.

Instinct caused her to reach to press her pussy lips together, to prevent the loss of what her lover had given her.

Beside her, Bob groaned as his daughter sucked his half hard prick into her mouth and lovingly cleaned it of the mixture of his spend and her best friend's juices.

"I should go check on the girls," sighed Francine.

"The girls are fine. You should stay here with me. I'm almost hard again," said Brady.

"They might try something," said Francine, whose hand reached for the penis that, only ten minutes earlier had flushed her full of spunk. "You've seen what kinds of mischief they can get into."

"If there was a problem, Coach would already have called," said Brady, rolling to suck at one of her distended nipples.

"You don't know them like I do," she said, arching her back.

"Yeah, but I know Coach," he said, rolling to pin her to the bed.

"Am I hurting you?" came the deep voice of the black hulk pinning Janice to the bed.

"Yes," she gasped, and then dug her nails into his ass cheeks, "But I love it."

"You sure?" he rumbled.

"Yes! Don't stop. Don't ever stop!"

"Damn, girl," sighed the big football player. She'd taken it all, something very few women could do. And the ones who could, hadn't liked it much. He pulled it almost out, and then slid it back in with a deep sigh of contentment. He did it again, and then a third time as she writhed and cooed under him, her hands sliding all over his back and shoulders.

Ten minutes later Janice had her third orgasm, and BD had his first of the night.

The cervix of a woman is a pliable ring of muscle that leads to the womb. Normally it is closed off by a plug of mucus, which protects the womb from contamination by germs or other foreign objects not friendly to the tissues of the uterus. Sperm cells have evolved to be able to wiggle their way through this mucus plug, which allows that because sperm cells are the only object not considered foreign to the womb.

The normal penis rarely interacts with that mucus plug, because the normal penis either doesn't reach the cervix, or slides right by it. But when the penis is longer than usual, the tip can hit the rear wall of the vagina and stretch everything in ways it wasn't really meant to be stretched. That can cause the pliable cervix to alter from a circle to an oval, and the mucus plug to be dislodged.

A healthy, adult male can produce between 180 million to 1.2 billion sperm cells in an ejaculation. Both genetic and environmental issues can affect that. Of the number produced, only a small portion will find their way through the mucus plug in the cervix, to enter the uterus and seek an egg. Nobody knows what percentage make it, because it's pretty hard to measure something like that.

But we do know some of the things that prevent sperm cells from fulfilling their intended purpose. They run out of energy, or swim off in the wrong direction. Some get confused and just swim in circles, or knock on the door of the wrong fallopian tube. Some sperm may have been neutralized by natural antibodies or hostile cervical fluids.

Then there is the fact that, when the starting pistol fires, each sperm must swim the distance that is equivalent to a man swimming from Los Angeles to Hawaii.

But if that mucus plug has been knocked askew, one of the main barriers is removed. The swirling jets of semen, containing all those sperm, may flow directly into the womb, where the distance they have to move to find an egg has suddenly been cut in half.

That's what BD's ... BD ... did in Janice, as he bellowed what he always bellowed when unloading his balls.

"Cummin' in that pussy!"

"Do we have to go home?" whined Tiffany as she watched her roommate have another orgasm. She was rubbing her own pussy in sympathy.

"You know we do," panted Judith. "Ohhh Daddy, you're making me feel so goood."

"Well hurry up, then. I want another turn," complained Tiffany.

"We have all night," said Bob, who was breathing more normally than the others.

That's because Bob figured out early that trying to take care of two horny teens would not work out for him unless he used his big brain as much or more than his little one. To that end, after he squirted in Tiffany, the next time he got hard, he used his skill to generate orgasms in Judith, without also generating his own climax.

The way he did that was to go deep and then rock back and forth, sideways, or in small circles that crushed Judith's clit. She went off like a firecracker, and he grinned, because he wasn't anywhere close to cumming. Two more of those was what led to Tiffany getting impatient.

So he pulled out of Judith, and pinned Tiffany to the bed, where he did the same thing to her.

Her disappointment evaporated as she learned that having an orgasm while completely helpless under the heavy bulk of a man was even better than doing it the other way.

Six o'clock in the morning is an ambivalent time of day. For many people, they're already up and around, eating breakfast and getting ready to go to work. But it's not time to leave yet, so time seems to move slowly for them. For others, such as those who went to a banquet the night before, staying up late, and then stayed up even longer to engage in something other than rest, and who need to get back to where they actually belong, rather than where they'd actually like to stay ... six o'clock in the morning is a frantic pain in the ass.

Getting up at six was normal for the girls who attended St. Clementine's Academy. That was, in fact, the routine time to waken. Chapel was at six forty, followed by breakfast at seven. The first class tardy bell rang at eight oh one. Repetition had trained the girls to wake up pretty closely to six, and that didn't change in this situation.

But there was no time to take a shower and put on the familiar uniform. The routine had been broken and the first thing at least three of the girls thought of when their eyes opened at the usual time, was that they were not where they were supposed to be.

Three girls had to get dressed again in what they'd worn to the banquet, resist the efforts of the men in their recent lives to get them naked and back in bed again, and then somehow sneak back to the room they were supposed to have slept in, without drawing any attention. Each, of course, thought she was the only one who had skipped out, and that when she appeared she would get the ass chewing of the century from some worried adult.

But all three thought it was worth it.

People who are staying in major hotels, though, rarely get up at six. They are more in the seven to eight crowd. So as the three girls navigated the halls on tiptoes, carrying their shoes, it was eerily silent.

Janice made it first, and stood there, trying to figure out a way to get the door open without making the noise generated by knocking. Kendi ran into Monica as she came out of the elevator and the two froze in horror that then turned to amazement. They were whispering animatedly as they turned the corner and saw Janice still standing there.

When they arrived and found out why Janice hadn't gone in already, Monica snorted, "Where's your phone?"

Janice blinked, rolled her eyes, and reached for her purse. Kendi beat her to it, though, and hit speed dial for Judith.

"Open the door!" she whispered into the phone.

There was the thumping of feet, audible through the door, and the door popped open.

Nobody was there.

Finally Tiffany's tousled head appeared around the edge of the door.

"Get in here!" she hissed.

It became clear why she had been hiding when she closed the door behind them and stood there, naked.

"Is that a hicky?!" gasped Kendi, staring at a red mark on Tiffany's collarbone.

"What?" Tiffany tried to look down, but couldn't see anything.

Janice bent over and stared at the mess of partially dried semen coating the insides of Tiffany's thighs.

"You did it!" she squealed. Then, her alter ego surfaced and she became the mom. "You better get in the shower before Sister gets here!"

"Me too!" said Monica, who was convinced she smelled like sex.

"Hurry! She went with that Brady guy last night, but who knows how soon she'll show up here. If she does come here, it would be a good idea if we were in bed."

It wasn't a bad plan, all in all, and they actually had time to pursue it. But in their hurry they forgot two crucial things. In order to get the scent of sex and matted sperm off of them in a hurry, they ended up sharing the shower. And that got water all over the place as one came out while another went in. They used all the towels and, like many hotel patrons, left them in a damp pile on the floor.

And then, of course, there was Bob.

So, when Francine did show up, almost an hour later, and was let in by a very sleepy Bob, who was dressed in his boxers again, the odor of sex wafted off of him like a summer breeze. Francine had also taken a shower, while Brady lay sleeping in bed. Her nose had been cleared of the odors she and Brady had created.

She didn't say anything, though if Bob had been paying attention he would have seen her eyes widen and her eyebrows go up. Her first thoughts were to wonder how Bob might have gotten a woman in there last night, without the girls knowing about it. But she couldn't ask him about it, both because she just couldn't, and because he had turned to walk back into his bedroom.

She walked to the girls' bedroom and looked in on them. They were all in various beds, arms out-flung, wearing the pajamas she and Brady had gotten them. They looked so peaceful she smiled.

Then she saw the pile of towels on the floor of the bathroom through the open door.

She only approached them to pick them up and hang them around the bathroom so they would dry.

And then she saw the puddles of water on the floor, and looked at the walls of the shower stall, where there were still drips of water clinging to the walls.

She turned, walked to the middle of the bedroom, put her hands on her hips, and in a normal voice, said, "Somebody want to tell me what's going on here?"

Janice, of course, tried to keep the subterfuge going by "waking up" slowly.

"Huh? Oh, hi, Sister," she said, feigning sleepiness.

Francine walked over to the girl.

"Your hair is still wet, Janice," she said, her voice level.

"Shit!" she heard from under a nearby sheet. It was just the barest hint of a whisper, but she heard it.

She went around and checked each girl.

All of them had wet hair.

That's when the interrogation commenced.

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