Sardines

by Lubrican

Chapter : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter Three

Prom was a waste of time. For once Chrissy and I weren't doubling. John came to the door to pick me up. I had told him to do that and not to just honk. My parents shook his hand and all that stuff. He had a corsage for me. To pin it on he had to slide his fingers down into my cleavage a little bit. He was obviously very nervous about that, but he got the thing on. Then there were pictures, and we finally escaped.

John might have been an athlete, but he couldn't dance to save his life. Even slow dancing went wrong. He stepped on my feet at least three times. And he brought booze in a little flask. He showed it to me like he was some big hero or something. He put it in my punch too. I drank a little, but he was an idiot because he'd brought bourbon and was putting it in fruit punch. It tasted awful. We sat for a while and talked to friends. Then we danced some more.

Finally he got to the point by talking about what a great time we were going to have at the after party George Stillwell was having out at his father's farm. There was going to be a bonfire and beer.

"George is fixing up the barn with all kinds of dark corners so people can take a blanket in there and get it on," he said, smiling widely.

The guy thought I was going to sleep with him! On our first date! After stepping on my toes and ruining my good shoes!

"I can't go," I said. "I have a curfew."

"You didn't tell me that when I asked you to prom," he complained.

"I didn't know it until my parents told me," I said.

"Can we at least do it in the car on the way home?" he asked. Just like it was completely normal. I couldn't believe it!

"No, we cannot do it in the car on the way home," I said calmly. "I'm not having sex with you tonight, John."

"Shit!" he said.

That's when I realized he was drunk.

So I said I had to go to the bathroom, and left the school instead. It was cold, and Chrissy's house was closer than mine. Besides, my parents had said I could go to the after party as long as I promised not to drink. I had my cell phone, and Daddy had made sure it was fully charged before I left. He was all primed to come get me if I needed help.

But I didn't need help.

What I needed was Mr. C.

They never locked the French doors that led to the dining room from the patio. I took my shoes off so they wouldn't click on the paving stones. As I walked by the hot tub I remembered my first mouthful of man juice. I intended to get my second that night. The door was open, as usual, but I heaved a sigh of relief. If I'd have had to call him to open the door, I was afraid he wouldn't do it. I still wasn't eighteen, and would not be for another thirty-nine days.

As I made my way through the darkened house, I started worrying that, when he heard me, he'd be scared, or startled. My dad had guns in the house, but I'd never seen one at Chrissy's. Still, scaring him didn't seem like a good way to set the mood.

I stopped and got my cell phone out. I punched the button that called them and heard the phone ring far away.

"Hello?" he answered.

"It's just me, Mr. C." I said. "Chrissy is fine."

"Good," he said. "You okay?"

"That depends," I said. "I would really like to show you my prom dress. You asked me about it, remember?"

"I did," he said. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"So can I come up and show it to you?"

"What's going on, Mal?" he asked.

"I'm downstairs. My date was a jerk, so I left."

"Isn't that against the rules?" he asked.

"It is," I admitted. "If they find out I'll be blackballed from all future proms, no doubt."

"You're in the house?"

"I'm in the dining room. I didn't want to surprise you if you've got a woman in bed with you."

He laughed. "No chance of that."

"No chance?"

"This isn't a good idea, Mal."

"All I'm going to do is show you my dress," I said plaintively.

"Yeah, right."

"I promise. I'll show you the dress, and then I'll do whatever you tell me to."

There was a long silence. Finally he said "You'll leave if I tell you to ... right?"

"Right," I said. I didn't like saying that, but I was locked in.

"OK."

"Be right up," I said.

I took the dress off on the way up the stairs. It was deep blue, and it really was pretty. It was backless and had a built in bra, so when I arrived at his door, all I was wearing were the lavender high rise panties I had gotten to go under it. My nipples were already stiff, but it might have been because I was scared to death he was going to yell at me and kick me out.

I gathered all the courage I had in me and stepped into the room, holding the dress out in one hand to my left. He was lying on a bunch of pillows, half reclining in bed, with the covers pulled up to his waist. An open book lay face down on his stomach.

"Here is the dress," I said. I pointed at the panties. "And here is what I got to wear under it."

"I knew it," he groaned. "I knew you'd have something up your sleeve."

I dropped the dress on the floor. I ran a hand up each arm.

"Nope. No sleeves, and nothing up there even if I had some." I went for broke and pushed the panties down too, stepping out of them. "Nothing in here either."

"Well that's not true," he sighed.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"There is a beautiful, delicious pussy in them. Or there was," he said.

He hadn't ordered me out, so I took a step toward the bed upon which he was lying.

"Yes, but my pussy is empty too," I said.

I know it sounds corny now. It probably was then too. But we had always played a sort of strange game. It had started when I was fourteen, and the rules had changed a little each year, but it was always the same game. I didn't know how the game would end, or when it would be over. I didn't want it to end, actually. So I kept trying to play.

He stared at me with that deep, dark gaze he used so well. I stopped, unsure now. Here I was, standing naked in his room, hoping for something that had never happened, and which I didn't know what would be like, but wanting it all the same. I was scared, but I was also hopeful.

His arm moved and I watched his hand reach for the covers at the edge of the bed. He pulled them back, exposing an expanse of pale blue sheet beside him.

He was naked.

His hand patted the sheet beside him, while the other hand picked up the book, closed it and put it on the night stand, all without him taking his eyes off of me.

I felt the most incredible rush of relief, and joy and ecstasy. It was exactly like an orgasm, except my sexual organs weren't involved at all.

I ran, and he smiled as I jumped into the bed, landing half on top of him and pushing my face at him for a kiss.

I got the kiss. And then the world became a place I had never been before, and knew nothing about.

He was on me like a wolf must attack a sheep. In no time at all I found myself on my back, with both arms above my head. My wrists were crossed and he gripped them both with one big hand so that I couldn't use my hands at all.

His mouth attacked my breasts, licking, sucking, nipping even. I felt his teeth grip a nipple and pull it away from my chest until I whined with the discomfort of it. And yet it felt delicious. He needed a shave, and his stubble scratched me, but that made my skin feel more alive than I could imagine. Then his mouth came back up and he kissed me over and over while his hand slid so slowly down, over my belly and onto the fluffy hair I had so meticulously snipped and clipped so it would fit in my bikini. The tip of one finger arrived at the top of my split, but stopped just short of my clit. I thought I'd die if he didn't touch my clit.

Finally he moved the finger to circle my bump. I cried out into his mouth and bucked my hips up at his hand. His finger penetrated me and he hooked it like he always had. I felt the tip moving back and forth, like it was searching for something. The base of his fingers squashed my clit and he did that amazing vibrating hand thing again.

He was still holding my hands, but the orgasm came anyway. I know I screamed. And I know I kept screaming, because right in the middle of that orgasm, he rolled on top of me, kneeing my thighs apart, and I felt a stretching, searing sensation just inside my pussy lips as he took what I had offered. Only then did he let go of my wrists, but it didn't matter, because his full weight was on me and there was nothing I could do to get away from that thing that was splitting me apart down there.

It felt like I was in an earthquake, or maybe a ship at sea in a hurricane. The bed was shaking and our bodies were heaving and bouncing. Out of the blue there came an incredible streak of pleasure that I recognized had been sent to my brain by my clit. I felt tremendous pressure in my pussy, but it didn't hurt, exactly.

Then he suddenly stopped.

He did a pushup with his arms. His hands were right under my arm pits. But only his chest rose, and I dragged in a huge breath, half sobbing as it was expelled so I could drag in another.

He looked down and I realized his weight was completely off of me. I raised my head and saw he was on his knees. I also saw that his brown pubic hair was kissing mine. He was in me ... all the way in me. I had a penis in my pussy at that moment. I couldn't believe it!

Then he pulled it almost out of me, hesitated just a second, and slid it back in, bouncing off my mons. My clit sang out again.

He did it again, almost gently pulling and pushing. The pressure was still there, but felt different somehow. I realized there was no pain at all any more. In fact, I could barely remember what that pain had been like. I was so amazed that that big thing actually fit in me!

He pushed in and then moved his hips sideways to the right, and back to the left.

I felt so many things when he did that. I felt his cock deep inside me, moving a little bit as he tried to drag it sideways and my pussy refused to let it go that way. My clit almost buzzed with the joy of being massaged by the base of his cock. I felt the skin of his thighs rubbing on my own. I felt his breath washing over my face as he panted. Everything wanted to be felt first.

He stopped rubbing and started fucking it in and out of me again. I watched until my neck muscles complained at holding my head up, and I let my head flop back. It was different when I couldn't see what was happening. Now it was all up to my tissues to report what they were feeling.

And what they were feeling was incredible. I tried to think of anything else that felt that good. The first swallow of cool water on a hot day after a run? No contest. This beat that hands down.

And then I couldn't think of anything, because I felt an orgasm looming over me. Usually I could tell when it was going to happen, but this felt like I was surrounded by something that could pounce at any time.

He surprised me by leaning down and kissing me again. It wasn't rough this time. Instead it was tender. But at the same time he let his body weight down on me again and sped up, his cock sliding in and out faster and faster. I felt a drop of something on my face and realized he was sweating.

"Oh Mal," he groaned into my mouth. His lips slid off to one side and his chin dropped onto my shoulder. He was moving so fast now that I was reminded of when he jerked off in front of me.

"Oh Mal!" he whined.

Then he stopped, deep inside me and I felt a new heat blooming right where the tip of his cock was. I knew he was shooting in me ... those streaks of white I had watched coming out were now confined in my body. I knew about sperm, and the danger of sperm, but I hadn't thought about it until that very instant when I felt his sperm being released into my belly.

But it was his sperm ... the sperm of the man I loved. And it didn't feel dangerous at all.

It just felt wonderfully warm inside me.

There is almost nothing more pitiful than a man who feels he has failed his lover.

I had overwhelmed his defenses, and he had reacted as men were intended to react. He had mated with me. That's what men are supposed to do.

But modern men expect more of themselves than mere mating. At least the men who are worth a flying fuck do. They expect to leave their selected mate limp and satisfied, unable to even think of finding another man to add more sperm, to increase the odds of successful fertilization.

And I hadn't quite made it to orgasm.

I didn't care. It had been something wondrous and amazing, and I'd never forget it. But he was devastated that he had "ruined" my first time. If he hadn't been so close to tears I would have laughed.

Teenage girls might not be as sophisticated as our older sisters, but we aren't completely lacking in the tools which can be used to manipulate a male.

I told him he could make it up to me.

I told him I wanted to cuddle. He turned out to be good at that. Half an hour later I went down on him, steeling myself to confront my own juices, and was pleasantly surprised to find out I didn't taste any different on his cock than I did on his daughter's lips.

The second time wiped his record squeaky clean. He was gentle, but forceful, and he was calm enough to pay attention to me, which he did in ways that still amaze me. Three orgasms later, I was that limp, satisfied woman, who wanted nothing more than a chance to snooze in warmth, next to my man. He kissed me as he came in me again, and this time I felt the pulsing of his penis as it delivered another ball of heat to my middle.

Then, held in his arms, I heard the click of the lamp switch and saw the light go dark through my eyelids ... and slept.

I woke up when Chrissy climbed in bed with me, naked.

That wasn't odd. We had slept naked together dozens of times. Something niggled at my brain this time, but I felt so good and warm that I didn't want to think about anything that might be amiss.

She snuggled up to me and her hand found my breast. It squeezed. I smiled in that place between sleep and waking.

The hand squeezed again and the bed shook as she sat up, using me as a prop.

"Mallory?"

Of course I was Mallory. Who else would I be? Why was she being so loud?

"MALLORY!"

"Whaaat?" I complained.

"What are you doing in bed with my daddy?" she squealed.

I felt Mr. C. move then, and realized the warmth I was leaning my back against was him.

The world flip flopped suddenly, and I felt weightless. I knew I wasn't weightless, and that I was falling as a result of that flip-flopping world. I was pretty sure when I hit it wasn't going to be good. My mind was whirling. Then the lamp on the nightstand came on and my eyelids clamped down.

"Mallory?" Chrissy's voice had gotten higher and louder each time she said my name.

I cracked open my eyelids and saw her sitting above me. She had flawless skin that she took good care of, and her nipples, unlike mine, were tiny and pale. Her areolas were all but invisible until you sucked on them for a while. Then they darkened up enough to be seen. She looked mad as hell.

"What ... are you doing in bed ... naked ... with my father?" she demanded hotly.

I was thinking a little more clearly now. I was still jangled, but Chrissy and I had had innumerable arguments in the past, and I knew how to argue with her.

"Me? I think the question here is what are you doing in bed, naked, with your father?" I suggested.

She blinked and the anger in her cheeks paled.

"Oh shit," she said.

Mr. C. got up on one elbow. He looked at both of us.

"I know I shouldn't say this, at least not right now, but you have no idea how often I've wanted to see the two of you naked together."

There was uproar. But it wasn't like any uproar I'd ever witnessed (or taken part in) before. It turned out Chrissy had been sleeping with her father since she was sixteen. It happened after a sleepover, actually, when the last of the girls had left. She had gone to climb in bed with her father, just to cuddle and be near him. He had been fully asleep at the time, but only hours earlier he had had his finger in my pussy and was kissing me and loving me. And when she got in bed with him, his mind, feeling a warm woman in bed with him, had drifted off into areas his waking mind would have avoided. As a result, she had gotten the same thing I had gotten - she got stroked and kissed and a finger in her pussy before he woke up enough to realize who she was and what he was doing. She had gone from shock, to curiosity, to acceptance in a matter of minutes. When he had refused to continue, she had masturbated right there in the bed. Seeing her as a sexual being ... who was actively involved in seeking sexual climax, he couldn't resist helping her. The rest, as they say, was history.

So she thought of him as "her" man in even more ways than I did.

Which was why, when she learned about my story, she got even madder, because he had been playing with me sexually long before he played with her. She was jealous.

I pointed out that, if I wasn't mistaken, she had lied to me for two years about being a virgin.

She pointed out that I should have told her what her father was doing with me.

He let us act like cats for ten minutes and then told us both to shut up.

"You love each other," he said. "You've loved each other for as long as I can remember."

Chrissy tried one more shot.

"If she loved me she wouldn't have screwed around with my daddy."

"You love each other," he repeated. "And you both love me. For just one of you to love me would be enough to make me happy into my old age. That both of you love me is ... it's like an atomic bomb has gone off in my heart, but it didn't destroy anything. It just made the world that much better."

He stared at us. He was so good at seeing deep inside us with those dark eyes!

"And I love both of you," he said softly. "I'll always love both of you."

I almost sat down because my knees were acting up again. He had said it! And he had said it right in front of Chrissy!

He frowned. "And because I love both of you, and I know you love each other, I don't want to come between you. So both of you have to leave. My bed is closed to both of you from now on."

Who'd have thought a man would know how to argue that successfully with two almost grown women?

"No!" we both shouted simultaneously.

"I'm not going to choose one of you over the other," he said. "And you're both going off to college, which is where you should go. So dragging things out with me when you should be planning for your new life as independent women is a foolish use of your time."

"No, Daddy," whined Chrissy, shifting from foot to foot.

I just tried to hug him.

But he pushed me away. He cheated and tickled, but it wasn't funny.

"You two go on back to Chrissy's room," he said. "That's where your friendship was forged, and where you have spent so many happy hours. Talk this out and get it behind you. I want you to be best friends for life."

In the end he had to get out of bed himself and push us out of his bedroom. Thinking back on it now, I giggle, visualizing two naked teenage girls, bumping into each other and the door frame as a gorgeous naked man pushes them out. It's not the normal image one would think of in any situation where there was a naked guy with two naked girls.

He closed the door behind us too. It was dark in the hallway, but we both knew the house like the back of our hand. I think we were in shock at the horrible loss we had just suffered, because we didn't talk until we got to her room.

For the first time we were uncomfortable being naked in front of each other. My dress and panties were still in his bedroom, of course, but I went to the bottom drawer of her chest of drawers and got out one of the T shirts I kept at her house. She opened a drawer two above mine and did the same thing.

It was the first time in my whole life I could remember feeling awkward around Chrissy. It was awful. I didn't know what to say. It was clear she didn't either. So many things were going through my mind, and I'm sure it was the same with her.

What brought me around was getting to the image of Mr. C. on top of Chrissy ... fucking her. It was easy for me to visualize in my mind. And suddenly I realized I didn't blame him. Making love with her was one of my favorite things too.

I keyed in on the concept "making love" that had just flitted through my brain. And in that moment I realized what he had been talking about. The things Chrissy and I did felt good, but only because it was me and Chrissy. We loved each other. I had never wanted to slide my tongue between any other girl's pussy lips. I had kissed a few, but that was different somehow. When Chrissy and I were pleasuring each other, it was for that very purpose, to produce pleasure in the other. It was always fun for me when we did that, but the most fun part was hearing her have an orgasm that was because of me. That was making love. And somehow, I knew he felt the same way when he made love with her.

"I don't blame him," I said suddenly.

Chrissy had been pacing. "What?" She turned to me.

"I don't blame him for loving you ... like that. I love you like that, and I understand why he would want to too."

She stared at me for a long moment, and then her shoulders relaxed.

"I wasn't mad at you when I found you there," she said. "I was surprised. Flabbergasted, really. But not mad. And then when I found out about the rest, I got jealous, but I still wasn't mad. I didn't understand that until you said what you just said. Of course he loves you. I do too."

"He loves us both," I said. "Just like I love you and love him the same way."

"Yes!" she squealed.

"This isn't normal, is it," I sighed.

"I don't care!" she said. "Do you care, Mal?"

"If you mean do I care that he loves us both, then no. If you mean that you love him and me, also no. If you mean what he just decided, then yes. I care a lot!"

"Oh, that," she said, tossing her head. "He tried to stop doing it with me a dozen times. He can't resist me."

"He couldn't resist me tonight either," I said. "He tried. He's been resisting for years."

"He doesn't have any trouble resisting the women who flirt with him and try to get him to take them out," she said.

"What women?" I asked.

"He meets them at business meetings and various places," she said. "He told me about some of them. I've been with him sometimes and saw what was happening, once I knew what to look for. He's had plenty of chances to get laid. I always thought he didn't bring any of them home because he knew I still remember Mom. Then he finally admitted that he compared them all to me and they couldn't compete."

I felt a fluttering in my belly. I had successfully competed with Chrissy, who was the prettiest girl I knew. I told her what I was thinking.

"I don't think it's competition," she said. "He's not choosing one of us over the other. He even said that. He just loves us both. You're as much his daughter as I am."

"This is so weird," I said. "Here we are talking about incest and it doesn't seem wrong at all!"

"All I know is I love him," said Chrissy. "I know I won't spend my life with him, or have his babies or any of that, but I still love what we do."

"Speaking of which," I said. "If you've been sleeping with him for two years, how is it that you never got pregnant?"

"He always uses a condom," she said. "Always. The only times he's ever actually refused me was when he didn't have a condom."

"Oh," I said, feeling weak in the knees again.

"What?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said, my mind whirling. "He didn't use a condom with me tonight."

She blinked. Then she frowned.

"Now I'm pissed!" she said.

I had seen Chrissy and Mr. C. interact before. That much is obvious from what I've already told you. But I had never seen the kind of interaction they had next.

She said "Come on!" and pulled me out of her room and back to his. The door was still closed, but she barged right on through. I don't know what would have happened if he'd have locked it, but it wasn't locked. The bedside light was still on and he was reading, even though it was three in the morning. He didn't look surprised to see us.

In fact, he smiled a little bit.

But Chrissy missed it.

"How come she gets to have you bareback and I don't?" she yelled.

He closed the book.

"Sweetheart, we've had this discussion before."

"No we haven't!" she yelled some more. "We had it about me, not her!"

"I guess I let things get out of hand," he said, looking abashed.

She folded her arms across her chest. She actually tapped her bare toes on the floor.

"Don't give me that," she snorted. "You never lose control. I've tried to make you lose control."

"Well, it's a moot point now," he said, "since I won't be doing anything bareback from now on."

"Hold that thought, Daddy dear," said Chrissy.

She turned to me and put her mouth right by my ear.

"Do you want him?"

She pulled back and I stared at her.

She put her mouth back by my ear.

"Now that you know he fucked me, do you still want him?"

She pulled back again. I nodded, and hoped she wouldn't scream at me.

She came back in and whispered "If I ask you to share him with me, will you do that?"

I realized then that she intended to fight his ban. I nodded more forcefully.

She surprised me by kissing me. It was one of our really good kisses, that lasted a long time and involved some tongue. When she broke it she said "Thank you," softly.

Mr. C. was staring at us now. Chrissy glanced over at him and saw the shock on his face.

"Gee, Daddy, I guess there are just all sorts of secrets coming out tonight. Did I forget to tell you that Mal and I have been lovers for ... oh ... I don't know ... four or five years?"

She was fudging on that, but I was pretty sure she was counting that first tentative exploratory kiss we had tried, just to find out what another person's lips felt like pressing our own.

"You two?" His voice sounded hollow.

"Well we are best friends," she said. She went behind me. Her hands caught the hem of my T shirt and lifted it, exposing my pussy, belly and breasts. She cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples. "Did you really think you were the first person to play with her titties, Daddy?"

I had frozen at first, when she exposed me to him, but then I remembered she was fighting for us, and went with the flow. When she let go of my shirt and moved beside me, raising her own, she said "Or mine?" I read her mind and leaned down to suck at one of her tiny nipples. She held my head to her chest.

"So I guess it's only fair that you know we were taking care of each other for a while now. We're not lesbians, though, and we'd really rather have you too, but since you're going to be such a dickhead about it, I guess we'll have to take care of each other again."

She took her shirt off and then pulled mine off too. "Move over and give us girls some room, Pops," she said, and pushed me down on the bed right beside Mr. C.

Then, to prove this wasn't some prank, she ate my pussy. I'd have cum too, except that it was too weird with Mr. C. right there next to me. But I played the part, because I knew what she was trying to do. I faked an orgasm for the first time in my life. I did it all as a show for him. And Chrissy knew it, because she knew how I came for real. So then she raised her head and smiled, her face shiny, because while I couldn't cum, that didn't mean I didn't enjoy it.

His mouth was hanging open and his face was flushed. He was breathing pretty fast too.

"We're not mad at each other, Daddy. Nothing could tear us apart. We're sisters, and sisters are for life. And if you think you can keep us out of your bed ... well look at us right now. I admit I'm a little upset about you doing my sister bareback, but I'll get over it. And we'll correct that little problem in the future."

I think she ran out of things to say. She'd done pretty well, in my opinion. I mean it had all been ad lib, on the spur of the moment. And he was clearly freaked out, which was very strange because I'd never even seen him ruffled. He didn't say anything. He just kept looking from her to me and back to her. He looked at my pussy too.

Finally I said "Will somebody please kiss me?"

Chrissy, bless her heart, said "Your turn, Daddy," and then went quiet again.

I turned my head and his face was only a foot away. I put a pitiful look on my face that I had used against my own parents hundreds of times. They knew what it was and had ignored it for years, but he hadn't seen it. "Please?" I whimpered, pitifully.

And when he kissed me, I knew we had won.

Chrissy struck while the iron was hot. I thought she was just trying to seal the deal. We were both tired. It had been a long day. And Mr. C. couldn't have been all fresh either. It was probably almost four in the morning by then, but she wanted some concrete resumption of the games under our belts.

She pulled the blanket off of him. He was still naked, and he was hard as a rock. I'm told two girls making out will do that to a guy, though I don't understand it. You'd think he'd rather be involved than watch. But who understands men?

She was obviously familiar with sucking him, because that's what she did. She got him good and wet with her saliva and raised her head. He was still kissing me.

"Has he eaten your pussy yet?" she asked.

I stopped kissing him long enough to nod.

"Have you sat on his face yet?"

He groaned. "Good grief, Chrissy!"

I stared at her.

"Do it," she said. "It's the best when you can move around on his mouth."

For the first time I began to suspect she had something else up her metaphorical sleeve.

"But let me get a condom first," she said. "It's my turn to feel this in me."

She knew right where they were, in the drawer the lamp was on. She was also an expert at getting the foil packet open. She applied the thing with a smooth five second motion that involved both hands kind of sliding downwards like she was masturbating him, but only in one direction. She even checked the reservoir at the top by pulling on it and letting it snap back.

"Okay," she said brightly. "Let's climb on together. I'm pretty sure Daddy's never done a threesome."

I realized then that she owned him. She had seduced him, albeit not intentionally, but once she had him, she held on tight and trained him right up. I doubt she did that on a conscious level either. He was just putty in her hands, because he loved her.

As I got on my knees, trying to figure out how to do what she was telling me to do, she made a motion with her hand that I knew meant "look" and she mouthed "face me."

I knew she was up so something then, but I played along. Then it occurred to me that maybe she wanted me to see her fuck him. I wasn't wild about that idea, to be honest. I mean I understood why he wanted her, because I knew how that felt. But to actually watch them do that? I was afraid I wouldn't like it, and if I didn't like it, I'd never be able to get it out of my head. It might ruin everything. But it was too late, because Mr. C. had finally come alive and was manipulating my hips, positioning my pussy where he wanted it.

I felt his tongue spear up into me, and was suddenly too distracted to worry about Chrissy.

Still, as he began to work on me, I watched as she got on her knees and moved his latex-covered cock to her entrance. She sank down on him with a sigh, and gave a few jerks forward and back with her hips. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and bit her lower lip gently.

It didn't look bad at all.

She leaned forward, putting her hands on his chest. I thought she wanted a kiss, so I leaned forward too, putting my hands on her shoulders. But she didn't kiss me. Instead she whispered.

"I know how to make him cum."

"Okay," I croaked. What he was doing was starting to feel really good.

Then she kissed me, and mouthed "I love you."

And then she leaned back and did some kind of jerky thing with her hips that looked like a lot of work. I felt him react, though. He got kind of more frantic about sucking at my clitty and I felt an orgasm rushing toward me.

Chrissy suddenly moved her feet up and, so smoothly that I'd have sworn she had practiced it a dozen times, stood up enough to pull off of him while the long nails she'd glued on for prom hooked the rim of the condom. She pulled and it flipped off his cock, shooting off to the side like a rubber band.

Then she sat back down on his cock and solved the problem of him doing me bareback and not her. He went nuts, but what he was doing felt so good I just pushed down harder, which trapped his head. I didn't mean to trap his head, but I did. So he couldn't do anything about Chrissy. She started that herky jerky hip flipping again, with this intense look on her face.

Mr. C. bounced his hips up in the air so hard that he actually lifted her knees off the bed. She got this dreamy smile on her face, and, as my own orgasm slammed into me, she said "Oh yeah.
That's what I'm talkin' about!"

She had gotten a pussy full of her daddy's sperm too. And I realized the whole episode had been just for that reason. Now she wouldn't be jealous of me any more.

He was mad. And I saw another side of Chrissy I'd never seen before. She became very quiet and subdued, submissive in the extreme. She said she was sorry three or four times, and promised never to do it again. She hugged his chest. It was when she cried that I saw through the whole act. She wasn't sorry at all. She was playing him like a violin.

And it worked. Pretty soon he said "All right. As long as you promise never to do that again."

I had been lying next to them, just watching. Chrissy, having played her role, subsided into cuddling mode. Mr. C. didn't notice that she stopped crying entirely too quickly. I was going to have to give her a critique, because she'd have never pulled that off if it was aimed at me. But she wasn't quite finished.

"I'm glad you love Mal too, Daddy," she said.

That reminded him I was there, and I took the chance of moving toward him. It paid off as he cuddled me on his other side.

"I should have used protection with you too," he said. "But you made me crazy. I promise I'll protect you from now on."

"Okay," I said. What did I know about condoms? I assumed that if he and Chrissy had used them all the time, it must still feel fine. I also assumed that the only reason Chrissy had wanted him naked in her was because he had been naked in me, and now we were even.

But what was most important was that it sounded like he had agreed we would do this again.

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