Serendipity - Version Alpha

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Epilogue

Chapter Eight

I think I gave a sigh of relief when school started, and my days were no longer interrupted by girls who wanted to get naked with me. Plus the weather got cool, and with the wind that's constant in Oklahoma, it felt even cooler. Everybody started wearing clothing that covered them up, including Emma and Ashley.

I had about a month of relief until they showed up one night asking if they could do homework at my house, because there were too many distractions at their own homes.

What they actually meant was that they wanted someplace to get their homework done where they could control the distractions. That means me.

Emma got finished one night and, with a completely straight face, asked if she could practice kissing again. I honestly think that the reason I agreed was because, considering all the sexual situations I'd been involved in with these two, it hadn't led to going to bed with anyone. And that gave me a false sense of security.

So I ended up on the couch again with Emma, kissing her every way I could think of. And when she whispered she was going to practice something else, and her hand fumbled with my belt and zipper, it was obvious she needed some practice, so I let her do that while I kissed her some more. Which is how I ended up with her hand gripping my hard, hot boner while my hand ended up rubbing her breasts outside her clothing.

She raised her shirt to reveal bare breasts, and went on kissing me.

"My turn," said Ashley, interrupting us.

"Go away," mumbled Emma.

"My turn!" insisted Ashley.

Ashley wanted to grip my prick too. But She didn't want my hand under her shirt. Rather, perhaps because her hand was in my pants, she wanted my hand in her pants too.

Which is how a new tradition was born.

From that night on, whenever one showed up to do homework at my house ... the other did not.

They didn't come every night. Rather, I had a girl in my house a couple of times a week, who dutifully did her homework before seeking an orgasm in my arms.

To be fair, they never failed to get me off too.

By October, the water was plenty hot, and the frog still had no idea he was being cooked.

New Year's Eve was my eventual undoing. I hadn't planned on doing anything in particular that night, but the two musketeers invited themselves to the party I hadn't realized I was going to give. They had both been dating pretty regularly by then, and apparently their parents thought that was going well. They arranged to have the night free by the time honored ruse of each telling her parents that she was spending the night with the other. That was true, except that they spent it together at my house.

They didn't tell me that, of course. What they told me was that they had included me on their list of places to go during the evening, and they wanted to include me in their celebration. Both were eighteen now, which meant they could legally buy 3. 2 percent beer, and they'd brought some of that with them.

I'm not much of a beer person. I'm more of a whisky kind of guy, so while we watched the festivities on TV and they sipped beer, I had some Jack Daniels, with a splash of Coke. And then some Rebel Yell sour mash, which is pretty good sipping whiskey at room temperature. And then I moved on to scotch, first straight and then with a little Drambuie and a couple of ice cubes in it. This was facilitated by the girls, who snuggled next to me on the couch in front of the flat screen and asked questions about what things tasted like.

Naturally, they wanted to taste things.

And yes, we all got a little tipsy.

It wasn't unusual for me to get the blow by blow, no pun intended, of some of those dates, as they were "reenacted" with me in the privacy of my den. During a commercial break, with the TV muted, Ashley decided to reenact her last date, which was with a football player who apparently pushed the envelope. Which, when it comes to Ashley, means he got rough with her. She pulled me on top of her on one end of the couch and spread her legs, pulling me into the classic man on top position. She spread her legs and wrapped them around me. Mind you, we were fully clothed, so the non-inebriated cells in my brain didn't think there was any danger.

"He got me like this, in the back seat," she said, thrusting her loins up against mine. "And he was dry fucking me."

She started pulling at my hips, until I began rubbing my cock against her crotch. I wasn't hard ... yet ... but I could still feel her jeans as my cock slid past them.

"And he had my blouse open. Wait a minute," she said, pushing at me until I did a pushup. Her hands flicked to her shirt and undid buttons. Suddenly her bare breasts were on display. She pulled me down again and got me rubbing. "Just like this," she panted.

"What did you do?" asked Emma, breathlessly. I felt her hand on my ass, helping me rub against Ashley.

"At first it felt pretty good," said Ashley. "Kind of like it does right now. I actually like it when Bob does it."

She thrust her pussy against my rubbing bulge and her hands pulled and pushed at my hips.

"I actually think I might be able to cum this way," she panted.

By then I was hard, and the bottom of my cock was firmly massaging the cloth that covered her pussy.

"So what did you do?" asked Emily, reminding her friend to continue the story.

"I told him I wanted him to suck my tits," breathed Ashley.

Her hands left my hips and came to my head, where they exerted downward pressure. My brain had heard her say "suck my tits" and that's what I ended up doing. I had never done this with either Emma or Ashley, so the newness of it penetrated my brain.

And my libido.

Pretty soon she was writhing under me, and I heard her say something like, "He's really good at this, Em!"

And when Ashley finally pushed me away ... there was Emma ... topless ... wanting to see what my mouth felt like on her nipples, so she could compare that to "the others." And I should have known that "the others" she was referring to were Caitlin and Ashley, but what I thought of then, were the boys she had dated, and the wolf in me came out, wanting to scare all the other wolves away.

Cutting to the chase, about an hour later we were all naked and I was eating pussy instead of sipping scotch. Had I spent enough time doing that, I might have sobered up enough to realize that, while I was licking up Emma's delicious passion juice, someone was unrolling a condom on my penis. In my defense, they had both been taking turns sucking me, and the delicate installation of a condom on a stiff penis might be construed as the very light touch of a pair of lips.

And then Emma wanted her nipples sucked again, and when I went to rub her pussy with my dick again, this time a hand appeared to guide my penis ... which is where their carefully thought out plan went awry.

This is because, you see, I had planned on rubbing my cock against her pussy. That's what had happened once before. In fact, I had done that to both of them, being careful not to do anything more. So when I approached her with my hips, I did so with some force. And when Ashley plugged the condom-sheathed tip of my prick between Emma's pretty pussy lips, the force applied was much more than either they or I would have used had I known what I was about to do.

Her groan of pain caught my attention about the same time as my prick communicated to my brain that something unbelievably tight was now clamped around it. I did a pushup, but only with my upper torso. My hips weren't included. I think that's because another part of my brain was encouraging me to keep going. Anyway, when I did the pushup, my hips actually sagged, which only seated me more firmly in her pulsing clasp.

"Oh shit," she groaned.

"What?" was my limited response.

I started to withdraw as my brain finally reacted, but Ashley's hands on my butt pushed, keeping me embedded.

"Don't take it out of her," she panted. "It's only her second one, but she'll get used to it."

"What?" I muttered again.

"Move around!" ordered Ashley.

"Oh," I said. In my slightly fogged brain, the decision to follow instructions was easier than to actually think about things. So I moved around. Instinct made me do it the same way I had with Caitlin, meaning my hips went in little circles.

"Oh shit!" gasped Emma.

But her hips thrust up at me.

I can assert that, over the years, I was pretty good about walking the high road, when it came to young women. I'm not including fantasizing about girls I had seen in the past. Every man does that, including men of the cloth. We're all human, after all. But I hadn't indulged in those fantasies. Of course, truth be told, one of the primary reasons I hadn't gone after the young and the beautiful, was because sometimes women can be a pain in the ass, and beautiful women excel at that. With young women, the problem is more that they have no idea what they want out of life, which translates to not knowing what they want from a man. And while they think about what they want ... it changes.

But there was also a moral component to my assiduous avoidance of sticking my dick in women under the age of, say, roughly twenty.

Until Caitlin, of course.

Call her the chink in my armor, or the hole in the dam or whatever metaphor you want to choose, but Caitlin had unlocked a bit of knowledge in my mind that altered my perception of things on a number of levels. And that bit of knowledge is that young girls, before the world (and men in particular) causes them to become jaded, enjoy sex on a fundamental, almost instinctive level. Of course that is contingent on choosing to enter into sexual union with a man. And liking him, I suppose. It's less complicated for men. A man will fuck just about anybody, including another man if he's in prison.

And that's where civilized society comes into the equation. Cultural rules are there to mitigate chaotic, unregulated sexual behavior. And you can't blame it on the Puritans, because it's that way in the vast majority of cultures the Puritans had nothing to do with.

Unless you count all those missionaries, who so ardently spread across the globe to enforce civilization on the unwashed. Which included the demand that the only acceptable way of procreating was in the missionary position. That's a bit ironic. Unless you suppose that the missionaries demonstrated.

But I digress. My point was supposed to be that I had resisted the musketeers, more on moral grounds than anything else. And while many may just call it an excuse, I firmly believe the only reason things ended up the way they did was because Caitlin put a chink in my armor.

And then the other two, on New Year's Eve, got me entirely out of my armor.

I will claim to my dying day that they tricked me, but that's really kind of silly, because the fact is that Emma was completely normal when it came to enjoying having sex with a guy she really liked.

Actually, she sort of went batshit.

And, actually, it was a good thing Ashley was there with both hands planted firmly on my butt cheeks, because when Emma went batshit, it took our combined weights to keep me where Emma now fervently wanted me.

To be honest, I suspect that a lot of that early intensity was because she'd been scared she wasn't going to like it, and when that fear was crushed almost instantly, the joy that generated was like the spark that tips a demonstration into a riot. I think she went from fear and anxiety straight into dopamine overload.

And so you understand why I'm nattering on about all this, it's because most men don't actually remember what a girl is like at the point where she not only understands the joy of sex, but is addicted to it as well. For most men, their early sexual experiences are with girls who are scared, and who do feel guilty. Those experiences are often hurried and uncomfortable, and there is an attempt to return to normalcy as quickly as possible once the deed is done. And by the time most men meet the woman they decide to stay with (and vice versa), the jading influence of the world has already begun its cancerous work to crush her girlish spirit.

Most men don't really know what it's like to make love with a girl who is totally uninhibited about it, and eager to wring as much joy from the experience as possible.

And that's what Emma was suddenly doing, that night. She was trying to wring as much joy from our semi unexpected union as possible.

She had an orgasm about the time my brain caught up with what was actually going on. I don't think I ever sobered up that fast before. But sober up I did, as she went batshit under me. Sweet, shy, quiet little Emma sounded like she was being murdered, except it was obvious to all of us that she approved of her demise.

And that's when the armor fell off of me, or the dam broke or whatever metaphor you were using happened, and I gave in to my urge to just fuck the brains out of little Emma Wilkinson.

It's hard to describe this, but there is apparently some kind of difference between being madly in love with a woman while you engage in coitus, and just doing it with someone you really like a lot. By that, I mean I always had trouble keeping myself from exploding in Caitlin. Maybe the urge to mate with her drove me to broadcast my seed, with her.

But with Emma it was different. Maybe it was because I had on that condom, which muted the feel a bit. I could still feel her heat through the latex, but she was "too smooth". Plus, when I'm wearing a condom, my foreskin doesn't move backwards and forwards over the glans of my penis, which robs me of significant stimulation. Then again, maybe it was just because it was so much fun watching her that I didn't want it to end.

It was a little hard to tell the difference between her exuberance and an actual orgasm. She turned into a foul mouthed little thing when she got my dick in her. But somewhere around her third orgasm or so, she groaned, "I am going to be in so much trouble with Kat!"

"Why?" I panted. By then Caitlin's permission for me to "play" with her friends was firmly uppermost in my mind.

"Because I think I love you," she wailed.

"My turn then," came a hot voice in my ear.

That was the first time I realized that Ashley had been riding me like a tube behind a ski boat, laying out on my back, rubbing her pussy on my butt, the entire time Emma had been making all those noises.

"Oh, shit that was intense," panted Emma, who was kneeling on the bed beside us as I hovered over Ashley and she directed my sheath-covered penis toward her sexual opening.

"Ohhhh yeahhhh," groaned Ashley as I slid into her in one relatively slow thrust. Remembering her hands on my ass, I gave her a few rotations, staying deep inside her.

"I don't know about him," she gasped, "but I know I love doing this."

"I didn't know," said Emma, whose hand came to stroke my back.

"Of course you knew," panted Ashley. "I've told you lots of times."

"I mean how wonderful it is," said Emma. "How fantastic it is! It wasn't like that with my cousin at all, Ashley. Oh, I'm in so much trouble. I'm going to want to do that every day! I already want to do it again right now! What am I going to do, Ash?"

"We'll talk about this later," gasped Ashley. "I'm busy right now."

And she was busy, but Ashley's response to having me in her was both different and the same, compared to her friend. Ashley had done this before. But she had only done it with her brother, infrequently. And while they were resigned, I suppose, to the fear of discovery, they were still limited as to the venues in which they could indulge their shared lust. It's possible they had never been able to be completely carefree as they rutted together.

So while she was used to having a penis in her, at least enough times that it wasn't a novel feeling, she was not used to being in a completely safe environment, with no cares of being discovered, and free to be as loud as she wanted to be. Plus I think she liked being watched, at least by Emma, who was, after all, her only other lover. At least when my niece wasn't in town.

So Ashley came a little unglued too, though not nearly to the extent Emma had. Still, it was just as much fun watching her react to the various techniques I pulled out of my sexual bag of tricks. I could tell, with her, exactly when she fell over the cliff and went into orgasmic convulsions. Hers were much different than Emma's had been. With Emma, when she came, she bucked like a trained bronco. Ashley was much more muted, at least on the outside.

Even through the condom I could feel the effects of what I'd heard of, but never experienced.

Ashley had a snapping pussy.

And it was that snapping pussy that finally coaxed the nectar from my balls. It was time, though. She'd had three orgasms in half the time it had taken Emma to have hers. I think part of that was because she "knew how" to reach for them. But the combined "exercises" had been going on for twenty minutes or so, and I was beginning to feel the effects of lactic acid buildup in my lower back, and pecks, and even my neck.

So the fourth time her pussy milked me, I gave up control and filled the condom.

I will confess to you nice people that, at that moment, I hated condoms and wished she could feel the heat of my offering, just as I had luxuriated in the heat of her core.

As I froze, deep inside her, and spurted harmlessly into the tip of the condom, Ashley put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me down for a kiss.

Emma had "practiced" kissing me at least a dozen times that night. It was one of her new "traditions" with me these days.

But this was the first time I had kissed Ashley since Caitlin had gone back to California.

You might think things were a little awkward after the passion seeped out of the situation. And I suppose you'd be right, but only when I said, "We shouldn't have done that."

"Yes we should," said Ashley.

We were sitting on the couch, with one of them on either side of me. My arms were around both of them and we were all still stark naked. The dropping of the ball had come and gone. It's a little ironic that, as they dropped the ball in New York, I was dropping the ball in Oklahoma.

Pun intended.

"Kat said we could do this," Ashley continued.

"I am in so much trouble," moaned Emma.

"You don't love him," snorted Ashley. "You just got excited. That's normal."

"You don't understand," said Emma.

"You can't have him," said Ashley, with warning in her voice.

"I don't want to have him," sighed Emma. "I just want to fuck him every day for the rest of my life."

Take my word for it, the word "fuck" issuing from shy Emma's mouth, and so casually to boot, shocked me almost more than what had just happened. It was the first "dirty word" I'd ever heard her say. And it came out so casually that I just knew she had used it many times before. That was when I began to understand that what the world saw, when it looked at Emma, wasn't necessarily who Emma really was, down deep inside.

"You can't do it that often," said Ashley, who sounded like she was just giving her friend a little advice, rather than discussing my sexual future. "You've got it bad enough for him already. If you do it too much, you'll end up like Kat, and then she really would be pissed off at you."

"What does that mean?" I asked, feeling left out.

Ashley turned her head the fraction it took for her eyes to meet mine.

"Kat's so in love with you she'll do anything to be able to be with you. She'd even do stupid things to be with you."

"Stupid things?"

"Like blow off college and moving here and getting a job at Walmart or something."

"She can't do that," I said, tensing up.

"I know," said Ashley. "And I don't think she will, as long as she knows you'll wait for her."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"She worries that you'll meet some woman who will sweep you off your feet," said Ashley. "That's probably the main reason she said we could play with you. If you're busy with us, then you won't be horny and go looking around."

"That's ridiculous," I said.

"Are you horny right now?" she asked, rubbing her naked breast against my shoulder.

"Not particularly," I lied. My penis gave me away, though, as it moved in my lap.

"And it's our job to see you stay that way," said Ashley. "You've been a pain in the ass about it until now. Finally, we can do something for the cause."

"And the cause is?"

"Holding Kat's baby," she said, as calmly as if she announced she was thirsty and was going to go get something to drink. "Your baby," she added.

I didn't know what to say. Obviously the girls had discussed my future in more detail than Caitlin and I had. I think I had just assumed that she'd get over her crush on me sooner or later. There's something about a handsome, interesting college stud that turns the head of most women, young or old. But the thought of spending the rest of my life with Caitlin wasn't an unhappy thought in any way. The only difference was that for me, I think it was still in the fantasy realm. But for Caitlin, it was an actual plan.

And she'd enlisted the other two musketeers to make sure I didn't get distracted.

The only fly in that ointment was that her friends were only supposed to have fun while they kept me occupied.

And Emma was having too much fun.


"I see," I finally said.

"Good," said Ashley. "I'm going to go get something to drink. Anybody want anything?"

She stood up, an almost grown, leggy brunette who, besides being naked at the moment, had that sultry, satisfied look of a woman whose sexual appetite has been sated. Her pussy lips were still flushed and red from the friction of our lovemaking.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Nothing for me," said Emma.

Ashley left the room, whereupon Emma twisted to lie across my lap, facing me, with her arms around my neck. It seemed almost normal to kiss her. She dragged her lips away from mine almost reluctantly.

"How long before it's hard again?" she asked.

My penis let her know by swelling against her side.

They slept with me that night. By morning, not only had the dam broken, there was no hope of ever rebuilding it. Part of that was because that cemented the casual informality that would characterize our relationship from that day forward. They'd become more or less casual about skinny-dipping in the pool. Now that casual attitude toward nudity was extended into the house.

But something else happened that night that caused Caitlin's plan to expand into a different dimension than she had anticipated. And that was that, when each girl woke up in the night and wanted to take advantage of the fact there was a naked man in bed with her, neither girl took the time to sheathe my cock in another condom.

It's understandable, really. It's dark, and you just woke up, and you're horny and it's just so easy to simply mount your stud (which is what Ashley did) or pull him over on top of you, loving the still new feeling of a man's weight on your body as you are filled, delightfully. And stopping to turn on a light and find the packet, and open it and fumble the thing onto that penis ... well ... it breaks the mood. It's just so much easier to roll over and make love.

And that's what we did.

And this time there was no loss of sensation, and after each girl had had an orgasm, I creamed her. I'm being truthful when I say I thought about it before I did it and felt bad for spurting in their naked, defenseless pussies.

I'll also be truthful enough to admit I loved doing it.

I don't want you to think that I suddenly lived the life of a sultan, with a harem to choose a woman from to warm my bed each night. It wasn't like that at all.

For one thing Ashley appointed herself the scheduler of events, so to speak. And I'm pretty sure she was fully aware of the dates of last periods when she made up the schedule. That one night of getting spunked bareback made a big impression on her. That was the last time there was no condom, by the way, mood or no mood. Thankfully, neither girl ended up being impregnated by that one night of surrender to passion. And Ashley wanted to keep it that way. So I think she scheduled things so that, even if there was an "accident" it would be less likely to do any real harm.

Which means, in the end, that I only had female companionship in the bedroom to "keep me honest" about once every couple of weeks.

It was astonishing, now that I look back on it. They still came over to do homework. Now both of them kissed me hello and goodbye, and they were lusty, energetic kisses. There was a lot of pressing their bodies against me, and rubbing up against me, but they also made it clear when the line had been drawn. They knew I could handle things myself. Ashley even said that one night when, after one of those lusty kisses, and my hands were on her breasts, she pushed away and said, "Not tonight. You can think about me when you jerk off, though. And I promise I'll do the same thing while I'm rubbing in my bed."

"You could rub right here," I suggested.

She grinned. "No I can't, and you shouldn't tempt me."

I wasn't to find out for half a decade that they were in constant contact with Caitlin, either via email or Skype, and that she knew each time one of them milked me. That's what they called it! It was their code word or something. All one of them would say was "I milked Bob for you today." No details were discussed, not even whether the "milking" was done orally or vaginally. They just gave the code word and went on to talk about whatever else they talked about.

Conversely, it was never discussed or even alluded to in our own emails and Skype sessions. I usually Skyped with her once a week, because those sessions were time consuming. But I always tried to see her on Skype on the days I got "milked." Of course I didn't know she knew, but she later told me how good it made her feel to know that even though I'd just gotten laid, who I wanted to see and talk to was her. Even now I have a hard time understanding how that worked. If I'd known she'd spread her thighs for some other man, I'd have been so jealous I would have gotten into a fight with her every time we talked.

Of course there were the requisite "I wish you were here" kinds of comments between us, just as there always are during enforced separations of lovers. Maybe because I meant that when I said it, she somehow accepted the fact that her friends had access to my bed, while she did not.

She claims the two vibrators she wore out during her senior year helped, but even now I marvel at the kind of relationship between three young women that could prosper under those conditions.

Anyway, I wasn't swimming in sex, and Emma calmed down and instead of saying she loved me, said things like "It would be so easy to fall in love with you, but I won't." She usually said that just before she said something else, like "Don't you dare stop yet. I'm almost there."

Even so, it was a very interesting semester.

Which led to the worst summer of my life.

Actually, it was mixed, when I think back on it.

Caitlin did apply to some colleges, and she got two acceptance letters. She was offered an academic scholarship at Texas Tech, but that was books and tuition only. Her parents wanted to minimize student loans, what with all the horror stories about them that had been in the media over the last couple of years. So, after graduation, she had to work to save up money for living expenses.

Which meant there was no month long vacation at Uncle Bob's house that year. She tried, but her mother said, "It's time to grow up, Darling. Welcome to the adult world, where you have responsibilities and sometimes we have to forego luxuries like frittering away a month while you turn Bob's life upside down."

I think she meant that as a joke. It would be a little longer before she found out just how upside down her daughter had turned my world.

She Skyped me to give me this news. It wasn't the greatest Skype session we'd had. In one sense she was the adult at the time, because she tried to reassure me that this wasn't actually bad news.

"I'm going to major in architecture," she said, clearly excited. "When I graduate, maybe we can work together."

"I'd like that," I said, dismally. "That's going to be a long time away, though."

"It doesn't have to be," she said. "Elk City is only four hours from Lubbock. We can get together on weekends."

"That means eight hours of driving," I said. "That's eight hours I'd rather be with you."

She tilted her head which, on Skype, made it look like her neck might have broken.

"Well ... you can work in Texas just as easily as you do in Oklahoma," she said.

"Move to Texas?" Moving wasn't on my bucket list. Then again, going without Kat wasn't on my list either. "Just for four years?"

I don't know why I said it that way. I guess I was thinking of "college" as a temporary relocation for Caitlin, which meant if I pulled up stakes and moved to Lubbock to be with her, that would be temporary for me too. Moving twice in four years definitely wasn't on my bucket list.

"I imagine I'll stay in Texas after college," she said, her head still tilted.

"Why?" I asked. I was still in a blue funk, feeling sorry for myself for not hosting my niece that summer. Otherwise I might have tumbled to what she was thinking before she had to tell me.

"It's one of the states that allows an uncle to marry his niece," she reminded me.

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