The Bored Housewives Club, Pt. 03

Part Three: Breaking Free

I. The New Neighbours

To show your true devotion, offer him other cunts to fuck, younger cunts, prettier cunts, cunts you yourself desire

Sir William Carrington, Advice to Wives, Maxim 8

i. The Creepy Younger Sister

Jemima pressed her ear to her bedroom wall and strained to listen to the sounds coming from the other side. It was wrong, she knew, and not a little creepy. Certainly, if she thought anyone ever eavesdropped on her, she would be mortified, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to know, no she needed to know, what Jamie was getting up to with Olivia Hendry. The girl from next door was impossibly pretty and ridiculously sexy, and how her nerd of a brother had ever persuaded her into his bedroom, she couldn't imagine. She wished there was a peephole in the wall. Her mom thought she was jealous of Olivia, and she had played along with that so that she wouldn't guess the truth; It was Jamie she was jealous of. She really wanted to see Olivia naked.

There was no such peephole, but the wall was thin enough that she could hear Olivia's whimpers and sighs, and now she could hear her brother's grunts, and the slapping of flesh on flesh. In her mind's eye she could see Olivia on her hands and knees while Jamie knelt behind her, thrusting his cock in and out of her dripping, wet pussy... She had to stifle a sigh herself, as she slipped one slim-fingered hand inside her jeans, inside her knickers... She wasn't the least bit surprised to find herself wet. She was so turned on, imagining what was going on, on the other side of her bedroom wall, and she couldn't have said whether it was the thought of her brother's cock or Olivia's pussy that had her the most turned-on. Either way, it was so wrong it was gloriously right. Their breathing was becoming more rapid, their sighs and cries louder, and she knew they were both approaching climax. She flicked at her clit and bit hard on her lip, knowing that within a few minutes she too would be well on her way to orgasm, albeit a self-induced one. Eighteen years old, she had never been so much as kissed, let alone fucked, but in her fervid imagination all kinds of dirty things had happened to her.

There was a long, male groan, and a series of female whimpers and exclamations. Jemima fought the urge to whimper herself as her fingers did their noble work in her knickers. With the aural show over, she threw herself on the bed and frigged herself with rapid urgency until she came with body-wracking shudders. And there it would have ended had she not, emerging from the rapture of orgasm, heard the two of them talking.

"Did I live up to expectations?" she heard Olivia laugh.

"You're a goddess!" her brother replied, provoking Jemima to make vomit gestures as she got off the bed and again pressed her ear to the wall.

"You're not so bad yourself!"

"I can't believe I have a goddess living next door to me! What did I do to deserve that?"

"Oh come on, Jamie. You're totally used to living around hot women! You have a hot mom and a hot sister, after all."

That gave Jemima a jolt. Olivia thought she was hot? Or was she just being nice?

"Well that may be true, but I'm not likely to do the same things with them that I've just done with you now, am I?"

"Aren't you?"

"Are you kidding me?"

She heard Olivia laugh. "Lots of boys fancy their sisters, or their moms. Or haven't you ever watched Porn Hub? You'll at least admit they are hot."

Jemima listened for the answer with bated breath, but none came. Perhaps he'd just shrugged or nodded or something. That would be just like him!

"Well now, how about you come to mommy..."

Jesus! thought Jemima. This bitch is utterly shameless.

For a while, there was silence, or maybe whispers she couldn't hear, but before too long the bedsprings were creaking, and Olivia's whimpers resumed.

ii. A Righted Wrong

"Need my strong, dominant man. Come round this p. m."

Will received the text on Saturday morning and immediately showed it to Anna. "What should I do?"

Anna put a hand on his thigh, stroking it through his jeans. "I should think a strong, dominant man would know what to do. And he'd do it."

"You're OK with this?"

She smiled at him. She could never have explained to anyone else just why this turned her on so much, because she didn't really understand why herself. She only knew it did. The profound submissiveness in her soul rose to the surface, caressing and seducing her. "It doesn't matter whether I'm OK with it or not, master," she said. "You may do as you please. It's not for me to question."

Will sighed. "If the kids weren't home, I'd tie you to the bed while I went round there," he said. Without another word, he texted a quick reply, while she watched him over his shoulder.

"I'll come whenever the fuck I like, bitch."

Anna grinned and nodded her approval. "That'll make the slut cream her knickers," she opined, and this earned her a slap across the face.

"Don't be impudent! Just for that, I forbid you to play with yourself while I'm round there. You can think about it all you like, but you'd better not lay a single finger on your own cunt until I get back. Understand?"

She hung her head. "Yes, master. I'm sorry, master."

"You should be. You have to learn to be humble. I won't have insolence from my bitches."

"No, master."

He was gone for two or three hours, though it felt much longer to Anna, who had to lie there, fantasising about what he was up to with Isobel Carrington, forbidden from touching herself. She could have ignored his instructions, of course, he would never even know. But that would have spoiled the game. No, not a game. She was his slave, so long as he wished her to be. God, why did that turn her on so much? She longed for him to come back into the room and ravish her on the bed. Maybe she would even pretend not to want it. Jesus! What was wrong with her? Yet it didn't feel like anything was wrong. Not anymore. The wrong was all those years when she had suppressed what she really was.

When he finally returned, there was something in his eyes that she had never seen before. Something self-satisfied, something self-confident, something commanding. She looked at him, voicing no question but asking with her eyes. He simply sneered at her and said, "Spread your legs, bitch!"

When he fucked her, it was hard and hungry, as if he were not so much making love to her as making hate. He pounded her so violently, she imagined she would be sore for a week, yet it was the best thing she had ever experienced. Nor did she lie there passively but clawed and raked at his arms and back as he ravished her. Before he had finished, they were both panting and sweating with the exertion of it, and she had come three or four times.

He fell asleep soon afterwards, and she sloped off to shower. When she came back, she stood in the doorway, watching him, adoring him, and constructing in her imagination, yet again, all the things he must have done with Isobel Carrington. It was the next morning before he was finally ready to tell her about it, and she sat in rapt, respectful attention as he narrated the previous day's events.

"I rang the bell," he told her, "knowing that she was waiting for me. Except it wasn't Isobel who answered the door, it was Olivia. Jesus Christ, that girl's hot, especially because she was dressed in nothing but a flimsy shift. Her hair was rumpled, as if she'd just got out of bed. There was something in her eyes, some cross between mischief and excitement. God, if Jamie's really hitting that, he's a lucky boy! She told me her 'Aunty Izzy' was expecting me. The way she said it suggested that she knew what I was there for.

"She showed me into the living room, where Isobel was waiting for me, sitting cross-legged on a padded chair, which struck me as odd when she had an entire, luxurious three-piece suite to choose from. She invited me to sit down. Olivia came back soon afterwards with a glass of wine each for the two of us, then she left. Went upstairs, I think. Isobel raised her glass to me, and we both drank."

Anna was careful not to interrupt, though she already had a dozen questions circulating in her brain. But she could be patient. It was fairly clear that Will had no intention of missing out a single detail.

"'She's a good girl,' she said. 'Well, actually, she's not a good girl at all, but I'm awfully fond of her.' I asked her in what way Olivia was not good. That made her smile, and I think you know how dirty Isobel's smile can be. Then she said something curious. She said, 'Like me, Olivia carries the Carrington Gene'. I asked what that was, exactly. She said that, as its name implied, it was something hereditary to members of the Carrington family, an urge for sex and deviancy'. I said that was an odd thing for an aunt to say about her niece, but she looked at me as if to say, 'well, that kind of proves my point, doesn't it?' She said Olivia had inherited it from her mother, and that both Olivia's mother and Isobel herself had inherited it from both of their parents. She drained her glass, and I drained mine as if we had simultaneously decided that that was enough conversation, and it was time to get down to business.

"I asked her what she expected from me, and she said 'I expect you to do to me exactly what you want to. And I expect I'll let you.' I did a double-take at that, but she just shrugged. She said, 'I'm a Carrington', as if that explained everything. So, to test whether what she said was true, I told her to get undressed and kneel at my feet. You won't be surprised to learn that she did exactly that. And my God, the woman is hot. I mean, you might think she looks hot fully clothed but naked..."

"I wish I could see that," said Anna, speaking for the first time.

"Quiet!" he told her, eyes suddenly burning. "Did I give you permission to speak?" Anna hung her head, chastened. "I've never seen a woman who looked so good naked." That stung, yet she enjoyed the cruelty of the statement, it made her pussy tingle. "And here she was, kneeling at my feet, waiting on my every command! I told her to lie back on the floor and play with herself. I told her to show me how she made herself come, but not to come without permission. And that's what she did. No questions, no protests, no hesitation. The bitch lay there on her living room floor, shameless as a whore, just playing with herself while I watched. I can't tell you how hard I was. It was all I could do not to climb on top of the slut and fuck her into next week, but I wanted to savour it.

"One hand went to her tits, and she squeezed and kneaded them while she masturbated. She closed her eyes as she pinched and twisted her nipple. I heard a sharp intake of breath as she deliberately hurt herself. After she'd thoroughly mauled her tits and nipples, she used the same hand to part her pussy lips, exposing herself to me. She dipped her finger inside and scooped up some of her cum. At that point, I got undressed myself, because my cock was fucking aching. I ran my hand up and down it and when she noticed me doing that, Isobel pushed her middle fingers as far as possible into her slit. That was when she asked me for permission to come, knowing I'd say no. And I did say no, of course.

"I told her to get on her knees again, hands behind her head. I circled round her, eyeing her up, still as stiff as a poker. I bent down behind her, grabbed both of her tits, and gave them a mauling of my own. God, they felt good. Way firmer than yours, Annie. Way firmer. No kids, I suppose. I circled back around and shoved my cock in her face, almost daring her to suck it. She resisted the urge, assuming she had any such urge, so I slapped her face. Hard. She liked that, I could tell, so I did it again, and then again. I told her I thought it was time she was fucked, and that I wasn't interested in her opinion on the matter."

Anna gasped, unable to help herself. Electric shocks were running through her pussy. She was so turned on she could feel the wetness running down her thigh, but she dared not speak.

"Do you know what she said?" Anna shook her head. "She said, 'Oh God, yes, use me, master!' And she lay on her back again and spread her legs as if to invite it. Her pussy was sopping wet. So I climbed on top of the divine creature and with a single stab I was balls deep in her cunt. It clamped hard on my shaft. I started slowly but very soon I was slamming my cock in and out of that irresistible pussy. And all the time she was begging me, 'Fuck me hard, master! Please make it hurt!' I pounded that bitch furiously, and she was screaming and moaning so loudly that Olivia must have been able to hear it from upstairs. I couldn't last much longer, the pace was too fast and the excitement too intense, and soon I was pumping cum deep into the bitch's cunt. There, what do you have to say to that?"

Anna swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Thank-you, master, for telling me. Did... did she deserve your cock, master?"

He curled his lip at her. "As much as any bitch can," he told her. "And in a way that you never will, you worthless piece of shit."

She hung her head. "I am worthless, master. I am a piece of shit. I'm sorry I'm so unworthy."

"Oh, it's not your fault," he told her magnanimously. "You can't help being fat and ugly. All you're good for is fucking, and you're not even very good at that. Did it turn you on, hearing about me fucking a younger, sexier woman? Do you wish you could have watched me do it?"

"It did turn me on, master. I'd give anything to watch you fuck Isobel Carrington."

"I suppose you want to play with yourself now? To have an orgasm you don't deserve."

"Yes please, master. I beg you to let me."

"Denied!" he said. "Go and make me some breakfast, like a good little house-bitch. If you're especially obedient and subservient today, I may consent to fuck you tonight. Until then, keep your hands off your nasty little cunt, do you hear me?"

She bit her lip. "Yes, master!" she said.

iii. Olivia's Intentions

For the past week, ever since she listened in on them, Jemima had been unable to stop thinking about Olivia and her brother. About Olivia accusing Jamie of fancying not only his own mother, but his sister too. Was it true? Did her big brother fancy her? It was disgusting. Unthinkable. Outrageous. Incredibly hot. God, she hoped it was true. She had spent altogether more time than was healthy trying to imagine her brother's long, hard cock, and how it would feel in her hand... in her mouth... in her cunt!

Yesterday, Olivia had come to call for Jamie and they had gone out together, but in the few minutes she was in the house, Jemima detected a really weird vibe. Her mother kept staring at the girl, as if she'd grown an extra head, and as for her father... It was not only that he kept looking at the girl with something approaching lust (it was pretty difficult to look at Olivia in any other way, truth be told), but there was something almost proprietorial about it, as if Olivia were his girlfriend rather than Jamie's.

On Sunday afternoon, though, when Olivia came round again, both her parents were out. Since Jamie and Olivia spent some time just hanging around in the living room, chatting, Jemima felt no embarrassment about joining them, and nor did they seem to object. It was the first chance she'd really had to talk to Olivia at all, and she was quite surprised to discover just how likeable the girl was - smart, funny, and chatty. Jemima had expected her to be a bit snooty and arrogant, but she certainly showed no sign of that. She complimented Jemima on how pretty she was, and what a lovely smile she had, and very soon the younger girl was perfectly at her ease. So, when Jamie excused himself to go to the bathroom, Jemima felt none of her usual social anxiety about being forced to make small-talk with someone she barely knew.

"He seems really smitten with you," she told Olivia.

"He's such a sweetie pie," she replied.

"Really? Not the words I'd have chosen to describe my brother," laughed Jemima. "But you do seem to make him happy. I'm not sure I can even cope with it!"

"Well, siblings always fight, don't they? But he's awfully fond of you, you know."

"He rarely shows it!"

"No? The way he looks at you, though, all proud and loving. Of course, he says you're a brat, but speaking as a brat myself, that's something to wear as a badge of honour. I think it's fairly plain that Jamie's attracted to brats."

"I hope you don't mean he's attracted to me!" said Jemima. And though she laughed as she said it, trying to make a joke of it, she was also aware that she was fishing for information.

"Would that bother you?" asked Olivia, fixing Jemima with those irresistible brown eyes of hers.

"What do you mean? He is my brother?"

"You must admit he's a hunk, though."

Jemima shrugged, hoping against hope that she wasn't blushing, but almost certain that she was. "It's hard to see past the 'being my brother' thing, though."

Olivia smiled, but it was a hungry smile and made Jemima feel things she wasn't entirely familiar with. "OK, pretend for a minute that he wasn't your brother, just as a bit of a thought experiment. Say you were seeing him for the first time, maybe in his rugby strip coming out onto the field. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't think, 'oh, now there's a slab of prime beef if ever I saw one'?"

"Maybe," giggled Jemima. "It's a weird thought though! But talking of Jamie, where on earth's he got to? It can't take that long to have a wee."

"Oh, he hasn't really gone to the toilet," said Olivia. "I told him to make himself scarce so that you and I could get to know each other a bit better."

"Really? I'm surprised you'd be that interested, to be honest."

"Why?"

Jemima shrugged. "I'm not really all that interesting."

"No? Jamie doesn't think that, and neither do I. As a matter of fact, we both think you're pretty hot."

"You think I'm hot?"

"I do." And so saying, Olivia sidled along the sofa and planted a kiss on the astonished Jemima's lips. It wasn't a swift, friendly peck, either. It lasted for several seconds, a period during which Jemima admittedly did not respond, but during which she didn't pull away either. Olivia cupped her cheek in one hand, leaning into the kiss. "There," said the older girl, straightening. "I wouldn't have felt right if I hadn't done that."

"I... I don't know what to say!"

"Did you like it?"

"I don't know. I mean, it was nice, but I wasn't really expecting it... I'm a bit confused, to be honest. Girls don't generally go around kissing me."

"Well, that's their loss, isn't it? Shall we go and see what Jamie's up to?"

It was only then that Jemima remembered something else Olivia had said. "You said... you both think I'm hot. Are you telling me my brother fancies me?"

Olivia shrugged. "Ask him yourself. Come on." She took Jemima by the hand, pulled her up from the sofa and led her upstairs.

Jamie was lying on his bed, reading something on his tablet, but looked up as the two girls entered. "Finished your girl-talk?" he asked.

"Not exactly," said Olivia. "But one of our talking points needed a little clarification before we continue."

He frowned, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He probably didn't. Jamie was much more of a sportsman than an academic, and Jemima was convinced that all the brains her parents had to bequeath had gone to her.

"Your little sister was wondering if it's true that you fancy her," Olivia explained.

Jamie goggled at her. "I... what? Of course I don't fancy her, she's my bloody sister, isn't she?"

Jemima squirmed, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the question being asked, but at the same time really wanting to know the answer. "It's OK," she told him. "I don't mind. Not really."

"I don't though! God, Jem!"

"Oh, man up Jamie," smirked Olivia. "Tell the truth! I've seen the way you look at her. The same way you look at your mother."

"What? What the fuck? What the hell have you been telling my sister?"

"Is it true, Jamie?" asked Jemima, perching on the edge of the bed. "It's OK, you can tell me."

"Of course it isn't true."

But from the way he couldn't meet her eye as he spoke the denial, she could tell he was lying. Her brother was not a natural dissembler, and with Olivia he was out of his depth. Olivia had also got onto the bed now, not perched on the edge but lying next to him. To Jemima's astonishment, the girl ran her hand over the front of Jamie's jeans with a purr. "Is something stirring in there? Is the talk of your vile, incestuous lusts turning you on?"

"Fuck off! That's you!"

"It is stirring though. You should feel it, Jemima? There's a proper serpent in there, you know!"

"I don't think I want to know!" protested Jemima. But she did want to know, wrong as that was. She really wanted to know. Olivia nibbled at Jamie's ear as she ran her hand up and down his groin. "Er, perhaps I ought to go."

"No, babe, don't go!" said Olivia. "You don't want to miss this." And so saying, she pulled down the zipper of Jamie's jeans. He protested but she ignored him and reached inside the opening, fumbling a little but quickly extracting his cock. It was hard and it was beautiful, and no matter how much she wanted to, or thought she ought to, Jemima could not take her eyes from it. "Isn't it pretty?" challenged Olivia. "Isn't it the prettiest thing you ever saw?"

"I should go."

"Christ, Livy, what are you doing?" protested Jamie. And yet he didn't try to stop her, not really. Maybe it just felt too good, because she now had her slim fingers wrapped around the shaft and was stroking it up and down.

"I'm showing your sister how much you appreciate her!" laughed Olivia. "Come on, look at your sister while I stroke your cock. Or are you too chicken, rugger-boy?"

It was unlikely that anything in the world would have induced Jamie to meet her eyes right then, for which Jemima was profoundly grateful. She knew she should flee from the room or, at the absolute least stop staring at her brother's cock, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't. With her free hand, Olivia unbuttoned Jamie's jeans and pushed them down a little, making it easier to get at him. Then she scooted down the bed a little, leaned over him, and took his cock in her mouth. Jemima held her breath, unable to believe what she was watching. Olivia was actually sucking Jamie's cock right in front of her. Jamie, caught between extreme shame and extreme pleasure, compromised by closing his eyes and perhaps pretending his sister wasn't there. Olivia really went to town on him now, sucking and slurping, swirling her tongue around the head as she fingered the shaft and balls. She took him deep into her mouth then slid inch by inch upwards until her mouth came free of it with a popping sound. She held the glistening cock towards Jemima.

"Want a taste?"

"No!" Jemima's mouth was wide open, and she shook her head, but she never stopped watching.

"You sure? It's really yummy!"

"I can't!"

"What do you think, Jamie? Do you think your sister should suck your cock!"

"Fuck, no!" He didn't open his eyes.

With a shrug, Olivia went back to sucking and stroking him, increasing her pace as she sensed his excitement mounting. Jemima could sense it too, seeing her brother getting tenser and tenser, then grab the duvet with both hands and contort his face. He was about to come.

Laughing, Olivia took her mouth off his cock but held her face up close as her hand turned into a blur of movement. Groaning, and gripping the duvet even harder, Jamie spurted into Olivia's beautiful face. Then again, and again, and she kept wanking him and didn't even flinch while he pumped string after string of pearlescent cum all over her nose, cheeks, and chin. She didn't open her mouth, like they did in porn films, but just let the cum splatter her. Jamie lay still and Olivia straightened, not wiping the cum from her face but letting it dribble down onto her neck, laughing all the time.

"So much cum!" she told Jemima, as if the girl couldn't see for herself. "There would have been enough for both of us!"

"I... I can't!" protested Jemima. With the show over, she couldn't bear to face either Olivia or her brother, so she fled the room at last.

II. Setting an Example

It must be the aspiration of every boy to fuck the cunt he was born from

Sir William Carrington, Advice to Boys, Maxim 1

i. Looking in on the Kids

Matilda's heart was hammering as she stood outside her son's bedroom. They were in there again, the two of them, and this time she had crept into the house in the express hope of catching them together. This was her third attempt, and the other two had been a bust, but this time she had hit pay-dirt. She listened, ear pressed to the door, as her son made her daughter come, not once, not twice, but if her count was correct, at least three times. Matilda slid one hand under the waistband of her skirt, and into her knickers, playing with her clit as she listened to Ryan going down on his sister. When Harriet came for a fourth time, Matilda came too and couldn't help but let out a little whimper. She put her free hand over her mouth, as if to silence herself.

She paused, tense and expectant, waiting to be caught. The noises stopped for a couple of minutes, but nobody came to the door or said anything. Perhaps he had whispered a warning to his sister, or she to him. She was about to creep away, back to her own room for a much-needed wank, when she heard Harriet say, "I'm going to be needing a taste of that, Ry." She pressed her ear back to the door, straining to hear the wet sounds of mouth on cock. Dizzy with lust, she dared to ease down the door handle and push it open, just a crack, and peer inside. There was Ryan, lying on his bed, fully clothed except that his cock was poking out of the flies of his jeans. Harriet, wearing a blouse and nothing else, was bent over her brother, sucking it! She opened the door another fraction, so she could get a better view, but this time she pushed her luck too far. Ryan looked up and caught her eye.

Holding her nerve, Matilda put a finger to her lips and winked at her son. Ryan bit down on his lip so hard he must have been close to drawing blood, but almost the moment he caught his mother's eye, the boy was coming. He grabbed Harriet by her hair, pushed deeper into her mouth, and must have erupted there, because the girl was suddenly coughing and spluttering. Long before Harriet could have looked up, Matilda fled the scene, her head in a whirl.

Back in her own room, Tobias was fast asleep and snoring away, so she hurriedly and quietly undressed, scarce able to breathe. Had she really done that? Why had she done that? Any normal mother would have marched in and confronted them, stopped them from doing what they were doing, issued stern injunctions about incest and propriety. Why hadn't she? There was only one possible answer. She didn't want them to stop.

"But why didn't I want them to stop?" she muttered to herself. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Whatever was wrong with her, it was making her pussy drip, and she could barely get undressed fast enough. She slid into her bed and drove her hand back down between her thighs. Even when she had made herself come again, barely a minute later, it was not enough. She just kept going, fingering herself through a second, a third, even a fourth orgasm, yet still she felt more aroused than she could ever remember, her mind awhirl with visions of Harriet sucking her brother's beautiful cock.

However much guilt threatened to overwhelm her, she didn't regret doing it. What was it Isobel had said? "Doing safe, comfy things isn't sex, it's just lovemaking."

Nevertheless, she could not sleep. She tried to distract herself with fantasies of smothering her snoring husband with a pillow, but all she could really think about was her children committing that terrible, unconscionable, incredibly arousing act of incest. Incest! Even the word felt dirty in her mouth, but that was the trouble - Matilda liked 'dirty'.

She wrestled with her conscience and her libido for hour after hour, watching the clock go round. It was 2am when she finally came to a terrible resolution. Getting out of bed carefully, so as not to wake Tobias (fat chance, he was an incredibly heavy sleeper), she padded down the landing dressed only in her pale-blue camisole. She paused outside Ryan's room, trying to convince herself not to do it. But she could also hear Isobel's voice in her head, arguing the opposite. She pushed open his bedroom door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. Sitting lightly on the bed, she brushed his hair from his forehead, waking him as gently as she could.

"I thought we ought to talk," she whispered, as he surfaced groggily from sleep.

"Mom, I'm sorry!" he said. "I know we shouldn't do it, but..."

"I don't mind," she told him. "Honestly!" she added in response to his disbelieving stare. "All I ask is that you're careful... and discreet. Especially, don't let your father find out."

"But why don't you mind, mom? I thought you'd be furious!"

"I suppose I ought to be but... but I'm just not," she finished lamely.

"I nearly freaked out when I saw you watching us!"

"Didn't stop you coming though, did it?" she grinned. "I really oughtn't to say this, Ryan, but you and your sister both looked very sexy. Is she good at it? I suppose she must be."

He swallowed hard, as if having difficulty believing the conversation they were having. "It feels good to me," he admitted. "But mom, now you are freaking me out!"

"I'm freaking myself out, actually, because I know this shouldn't be my reaction. I know I ought to be forbidding you from ever doing it again and... and grounding you, or some bullshit like that. But you're good kids, both of you, and somehow it wouldn't seem fair. But there's something you must promise me."

He frowned. "What is it, mom?"

She drew a heavy sigh, trying to find the right phrasing for what she was about to say. "Promise me you'll always be respectful of your sister. That you won't do anything that would... make you ashamed if you reflected on it."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at. You know I love Harry. I'd never do anything to hurt her."

"I know. I'm not talking about hurting, I'm talking about... well, I'll say it again: respect. Do you promise me that?"

"Of course, mom. I can't believe you'd think I wouldn't."

"All right, I believe you, but there's one other thing. I want you to remember that however, er, knowing, Harriet is, you can't say the same for Aaron and Chloe. Be mindful of that, won't you?"

"I'm their big brother, mom. Protecting them is pretty much my job."

"Good boy," she smiled, ruffling his hair. "Ryan, I do trust you. I don't want you to think I don't. But you're a teenage boy and, you know, hormones and all that. Just be careful, that's all I'm saying."

"I love you, mom."

"And I love you, Ryan." She bent forward to kiss the top of his head, but he tilted his face upwards and met the kiss with his lips. That jolted her, but she did not pull out of the kiss; Couldn't a mother give her son a peck on the lips, after all? And it was just that, a mother-son kiss, except it also wasn't. Here in the depths of the night, with a dark secret shared, there was more to it than that. Or was she imagining it? The kiss was half a second too long to be called a 'peck'.

"You look really sexy in that camisole, mom," he told her, his voice husky.

"Ryan..."

"You do though."

"I'd better go..."

"I was freaked out when I saw you watching us, but it turned me on, too. It's what made me come."

"Oh!" Unsure what to do with that information, Matilda nevertheless felt a perfidious tingle between her legs. "What are you saying?"

In answer, Ryan threw back the duvet. Underneath, her son was naked. And his cock was hard. She swallowed, or tried to; Her mouth was so dry, it was difficult to. "You said we looked sexy, Harry and me. You can touch it if you like."

Now, Tilda, now's the time to flee the scene and do your best 'pretending it never happened' act.

That was the voice of her conscience, of the respectable mother, of the bored and boring housewife.

Seize the moment, Tilda! Be who you were born to be.

And that was Isobel, the bitch. And wasn't that the real reason she had come into his room, now, in the early hours of the morning? However much she lied to herself, wasn't that the real reason?

"Well," said Matilda, "your sister gets to play with it. It doesn't seem fair that I don't get to..." She reached out a trembling hand and took hold of her son's cock. She gasped at the enormity of what she was doing, and she looked him in the eye as she moved her hand up and down his shaft, slowly, gently, savouring both the physical sensation of touching him and the shameless lust she felt at doing it. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, mom! So good!"

She bent closer to him, kissed his ear. "Call me 'mommy'."

"Oh yes, mommy! It feels so nice."

She released his shaft and cupped his balls instead, squeezing them a little, which made his cock even harder. God, it was magnificent. She'd forgotten how powerful an erection you could induce in a boy of his age. For a moment, it made her forget her recent fantasies of pussy. If Tobias had a cock that ever got this hard, maybe she wouldn't have been so restless.

"Stroke it!" he urged.

"Perhaps if you ask nicely," she teased.

"Please stroke it for me, mommy," he said.

"That's better." She returned her fingers to his shaft and curled them into a fist around it. She stroked a little harder than before, squeezed a little tighter. His sharp intake of breath told her she was doing it right. "Mommy knows how to make it feel good."

"Thank-you, mommy. Thank-you!"

"Mm, naughty boy!" She increased the tempo again. And as she stroked him, she leaned close into his ear to whisper, "Mommy wants to see you come!"

"Yes! Oh fuck, yes!"

Her hand was a blur, and she swirled her tongue around her son's ear as she wanked him. "Come for me, Ryan! Make mommy happy and come for me!"

"Yes! Oh! Ah!"

His cock jerked in her hand, and suddenly he was coming, shooting waves of sperm over his bare chest. She was unrelenting, pumping harder and faster, working for every drop of her son's cum. And only when she was satisfied that she'd got it all did she release his cock. She kissed his forehead, stood back up, and crept out of his room. She slid back into bed beside her snoring husband and fingered herself until she finally fell asleep.

ii. Advice Freely Given

By Isobel's standards, Matilda felt like an ingenue, but she understood that Isobel had recognised something in her, a potential perhaps. She wondered if anyone had tipped her off but couldn't imagine who might have. When she turned up on Isobel's doorstep in an excitable frame of mind, the woman was welcoming, even eager to hear what she had to say.

"Come on, what's on your mind?" she asked, after they had kissed and gone into the kitchen. Matilda sat at the table while Isobel made coffee. "You look all of a fluster."

"Something happened the other day," she said. "You know I told you my suspicions about Ryan and Harriet."

"Yes?"

"Well, I heard them together again and I... I peered through the door. She was sucking him off, Izzy! The little slut was sucking her own brother's cock!"

"Good for her!" grinned Isobel. "What's the point in even having a brother, if you don't make use of his cock?"

"God, you're incorrigible. Anyway, what matters here is my reaction to it. It turned me on! And Ryan saw me watching them!"

"Oh, how delicious!"

"Is that all you can say?"

Isobel handed her the coffee and joined her at the table. "You found it a turn-on, I find it a turn-on. What else is there to say, Tilda?"

"It gets worse."

"And I do hope that by 'worse' you mean 'juicier'."

"I feel so ashamed about what I did. Sometimes. At other times I feel incredibly aroused by it. What's wrong with me? Jesus!"

"What did you do?"

She sighed heavily. "I went into his room the same night. Late. To talk to him about what I'd seen."

"Yes?"

"And I ended up giving him a hand-job!"

"Matilda Ellis!" Isobel looked smug. "I was beginning to think you didn't have it in you."

"What on earth was I thinking of?"

"You were thinking what a turn-on it would be to make your son come. Did you?"

"I did. Copiously. God, it was so wrong, but I swear, Izzy, the merest memory of it sets my pussy tingling. Cheating on Tobias by fucking hot women is one thing, but this was a different level! This was... this was..."

"Incest?"

"Yes! Jesus! This is the boy who grew inside me, who I gave birth to, suckled, nurtured, raised, loved..."

"And you made him come."

"I made him fucking come. And God help me, but it felt amazing, a moment of sheer power and ecstasy, uncontrollable lust and such utter, delicious, wrongness!"

"And now you want more," said Isobel, giving her a shrewd look.

Another heavy sigh. "I do want more," she admitted. "Because however intense the guilt I feel, and it is pretty intense, believe me, the lust is stronger."

"Good. That's how it should be. Who cares about guilt, Tilda? You were born to fuck. And you know what? If you fancy your son, then fuck him. Do it, Tilda. Just fucking do it!"

"How can you say that? How can I possibly fuck my own son?"

Isobel gave an exasperated sigh. "The same way you'd fuck any man. Spread your legs and let him shove his dick in your fanny. It's not difficult, Tilda, not difficult at all."

"Oh my God. How can you even suggest such a thing?"

"Stand up!"

"What?"

"Do it. Come on, Tilda, stand up."

Matilda felt a bit confused as she complied, but as soon as she did so, Isobel stood up too and stepped closer to her. Without a word, she took one hand and slid it down under the waistband of Matilda's skirt and into her knickers. She fingered her for a second or two, listening to the woman's breathing grow deeper and more ragged, then withdrew her hand and held it up in front of Matilda's face. "Soaking wet, you dirty fucking slut!" she said triumphantly. "Now tell me the idea of fucking your son doesn't turn you on."

"It does turn me on," breathed Matilda. "God help me, it does turn me on!"

Isobel kissed her. "Good girl," she said. "Be a good, dirty slut for Isobel..."

"Yes! I want that!"

"Good. Now come upstairs with me. I have a surprise for you."

Matilda lay naked on Isobel's bed. The younger woman had instructed her to get undressed and wait for her, while she disappeared into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, Isobel re-emerged. She was clad in nothing but black bra, knickers, stockings, and suspenders. And one more thing: She was wearing a six-inch long, thick, black strap-on cock. She looked like the very Goddess of Sapphic Lust.

"Fucking hell!" breathed Matilda.

"Like it?"

"Oh God!"

"I hope you do, because I'm going to fuck you with it now."

Matilda gulped. Her life was increasingly turning into some kind of weird, fucked-up erotic dream, and she never wanted to wake up. Spreading her legs, she fingered herself, fixing her eyes on Isobel, tempting her, taunting her, inviting her.

"Are you ready for me, mommy?"

She gasped. She hadn't expected that. Did the bitch have her house bugged, or could she see straight into her soul? Or maybe she was some kind of bloody succubus! "I'm... ready... yes."

"Good. Because I want to put my cock in my mommy's beautiful cunt." Isobel got on to the end of the bed and crawled on all-fours to Matilda. She positioned herself, on her knees, between her thighs and, placing one hand under each buttock, lifted up her hips, tilting her vulva towards her. She nudged at the lips with the tip of her strap-on cock, never taking her eyes from Matilda's. "Do you want it, mommy?"

"Yes! Please! Give it to me!"

Laughing, Isobel thrust forward into Matilda's sopping-wet slit. The dildo was thick and satisfying as it parted her labia and sank into her depths. But if that felt amazing, what was even hotter was the sight of a beautiful, naked woman, with heavenly breasts and the figure of a goddess, driving into her with her cock. If this wasn't what heaven felt like, then screw heaven.

"Take it, mommy!"

And Isobel began to fuck her. Matilda arched her back, straining up to receive every thrust, while her eyes feasted on the divine beauty of Isobel Carrington. "Yes!" she whimpered. "Yes, fuck mommy! Fuck mommy!"

Isobel fucked her hard and with such skill that Matilda did not doubt that she'd done this before. Her tits bounced and rippled as she drove in and out. The sight alone was enough to make her come, and come she did, clawing at the sheets and cursing a storm through clenched teeth. Isobel laughed as she fucked her, but she never even slowed the pace through Matilda's first orgasm, or even through her second. Eventually, though, she withdrew, but only to change position. She made Matilda get on her hands and knees before getting behind her and thrusting even harder, even deeper than before.

"Oh, you have such a lovely arse, mommy. Perhaps I should fuck that too."

"Yes! Please! Fuck mommy's arse!" She didn't even know why she said that. Tobias had never fucked her in the arse, and she'd pretty much forgotten what it felt like. She was about to be reminded though. Isobel withdrew from her pussy and there was a slight pause as she lubed up the dildo, but pretty soon she felt the hard, rubber toy inching its way into her arsehole. "Oh God! Oh God!"

It felt huge inside her, stretching and filling her in a way that was almost alarming, but most definitely satisfying. "Do you like that, slut? Does mommy like my big, hard cock in her arse?"

"Yes! Oh yes! Fuck mommy's arse! Please! Fuck me!"

And Isobel did indeed fuck her. Matilda reached under herself to finger her vacated pussy while Isobel plunged her cock in and out of the older woman's rectum. She had the flat of one hand on either of Matilda's upraised buttocks and was squeezing and kneading them as she fucked. A third orgasm overpowered Matilda, this time evoked by her own fingers and the feel of Isobel's cock in her arse. Still Isobel kept fucking her. Matilda was covered in a sheen of sweat from the exertion of so many orgasms, but she wanted more.

"Fuck mommy's arse! Give it to me! Fuck my fucking arse." She had never been fucked harder in her entire life, at least not that she could recall, and what turned her on even more was the knowledge that Isobel's cock was tireless and insatiable.

"I want your cunt again, mommy. I want to fuck mommy's cunt!"

"Yes!" she gasped. "Yes! Cunt!"

Isobel did not change her position but lowered her aim and sank her cock into Matilda's pussy, which was so wet by now that it all but sucked it inside her. She continued to finger her own clit as Isobel fucked her, and within seconds she was coming for a fourth time, screaming, almost weeping as lust simply overpowered her, took her over, freed her from any shackle of guilt or shame. Isobel pounded into her, merciless and tireless.

"Tell me who you want to fuck, bitch!"

Matilda's fingers returned immediately to her clitoris. "You! I want to fuck you!"

"No, bitch. Who else?"

"No! Don't make me! I'm so close!"

"Who do you want to fuck you, bitch?"

And the floodgates opened. A fifth orgasm came crashing down on Matilda as she cried out at the top of her voice, "My son! I want to fuck my son!"

iii. Time for a Chat

A week had gone by since the early-hours incident in Ryan's bedroom, but they hadn't spoken of it at all. The only hint that it had happened was the occasional smouldering glance from either mother or son, followed by the other looking away, embarrassed. But there was hunger in her son's eyes, a constant wondering whether anything else would happen between him and his mother. Yes, his mother. You're his fucking mother, you dirty bitch!

It was Saturday afternoon now, and Tobias was out with the girls. It was impossible to put it off any longer. So she took a deep breath, knocked on Ryan's bedroom door, and plunged inside. He was lying on his bed, reading a book as he listened to music through his ear-pods. He glanced up as she entered, then paused the music and took out the pods. "Hi, mom," he said, a question in his eyes.

"It's time we had a chat," she told him.

"What about?" he frowned.

"I think you know what about."

"Oh, that," he said.

"Yes, that! I should never have let things go so far!"

Ryan peered at her, frowning slightly. "I don't remember complaining."

She sighed. "I know it must be... exciting for you, Ryan. It's exciting for me, too. More than you could possibly imagine but... but I don't think we should do anything like that again." She was testing him, trying to figure out how he felt about it all.

Ryan looked crestfallen. "Don't say that! Mom, I can't stop thinking about what we did. And I can't stop wishing it would happen again. Or even more!"

"More?" she prompted, sitting on the bed beside him. "You want... more?"

"Yes, mom."

"Does Harriet know?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. She'll understand, though. I think she will."

"Even so, I don't know..." She feigned doubt. She feigned hesitation. But it was all an act. She wanted him so badly it was burning her up.

"Please mom! I want to touch you, to kiss you..."

That was good enough. She bent down and kissed her son, parting her lips and thrusting between his with her tongue. Soon, she was lying beside him, and they had their arms about each other, mouths open in a deep, probing kiss.

"I want you, mom!"

"Call me mommy!" she urged. Why did that turn her on so much?

"I like that," he admitted. "I like calling you mommy. I want you, mommy!"

God help me! She could hear her own breathing, deep and ragged. What was she supposed to do? The gap between want and should was becoming a chasm, and it was all she could do not to dive into it, and damn the consequences.

"Perhaps... perhaps I could let you have... a taste of me. Isn't that what you do for Harriet? Don't you eat her out sometimes?"

"Yes! I'd love to do that!"

"Mm, good boy." Matilda hitched up her skirt. The fact that she was wearing no knickers ought to have been clue enough that she hadn't come here to break off their illicit relationship. She wondered if he clocked that. Maybe, at this point, he just didn't care. As soon as he saw his mom's vulva, he got down between her thighs and she spread herself to him in invitation. Ryan buried his face in her cunt and set to work. He was good, too. Perhaps it was all the practice on his sister, but before long she was writhing on the point of his tongue, tensing and sighing as her son devoured her pussy.

"Yes! Oh yes, lick mommy's cunt!"

His appetite for her was that of a starving man. Tongue, lips, fingers, everything was employed in his quest to please his mother. And she responded to every lick, every suck, every thrust, with moans and quivering muscles. It was an assault that brooked no possibility of failure, and she succumbed to it with every last trace of guilt and shame exorcised from her unapologetic soul.

She came. Matilda came in her son's face, and it was a new kind of bliss. "Thank-you!" she sighed, as the last quakes of orgasms subsided. "Thank-you!"

Afterwards, she repaid the favour, sucking him off with the same fervour he had shown her. She loved her son's cock, and she loved his balls, and she loved how it felt to please him. She let him come in her mouth, then swallowed down every drop with a smack of her lips.

III. Choices Inherited

Be a slave to orgasm, give yourself up to it, do its bidding. What else is worthier?

Sir William Carrington, Advice to Girls, Maxim 9

i. The Carrington Gene

"Is it true you knew Isobel Carrington's grandmother?" Elizabeth was sitting opposite her mother, eating biscuits from a China plate, while Maggie took demure sips from a cup of tea. The older woman raised an eyebrow.

"Has someone been talking about me, sweetheart?"

"Word gets around, yes."

"How flattering! Yes, I knew her mother too, Eleanor Barton, but I knew Barbara Carrington even better. That's Isobel's grandmother, at least allegedly."

"Allegedly?" frowned Elizabeth.

"When it comes to the Carringtons, you can never be sure," said Maggie. "As a matter of fact, it was on account of the Carringtons that I moved here, when you, Greg, and Ursula were little."

"How so?"

Margaret Willis heaved a weary sigh. "It's ancient history now, though Isobel's appearance feels a bit like a ghost of my past coming to haunt me. I was rather close with the Carringtons before I had you. Too close, your father felt. And after you were born, he persuaded me to put some distance between us and them. I was more ambivalent, but I suppose he was right."

"If the rest of them can... influence people the way Isobel can, I can see why he might have felt that."

"It's already started then, has it? And who exactly has she influenced. You?"

"No. Well, I don't think so, anyway. Tilda's besotted with her, and so's Anna's husband by all accounts. She's got to Vicky too. I thought it might have all been a coincidence, a sexually voracious woman moving into a small community and wreaking a bit of havoc. Not exactly innocent, but no more than random lust. But when I found out she knew you... That's a bit suspicious, you have to agree."

Maggie smiled. "Somewhat suspicious," she admitted. "My guess is that Barbara sent her here. It's probably always rankled with her that one of her families flew the nest and went off down what she would regard as the wrong path."

"What does that mean?"

"It's a long and complicated story. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell it to you yet, if I ever am. But you're right about this, the Carringtons do have an unparalleled ability to influence people, especially when it comes to sex. I know this better than anyone."

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I found it a bit weird that everyone she's targeted, as far as I know, is a close friend of mine. So when I discovered the missing link in all this was my own bloody mother, I could hardly not ask, could I?"

"Oh, I'm just the convenient conduit," smiled Maggie. "I think you'll find, Elizabeth, that you are the missing link in all this. In Barbara Carrington's warped mind, I stole you, Greg, and Ursula away from them, and she wants you back."

"Why?" None of this made any sense to Elizabeth. "It's not like I'm a Carrington."

"That's not entirely true. At least, you almost certainly have Carrington blood in you."

"What? I'd never even heard of the bloody Carringtons 'til Isobel came to the Village."

"No, I made sure you never heard of the bloody Carringtons, believe me. But the truth is, if you must know, I have very good reason to believe my father was a Carrington. Not your grandfather, I don't mean. Both he and your grandmother were bosom friends of the Carringtons, and I find it hard to believe that none of them fucked her."

"Grandma Sara?"

"Who else?" Elizabeth had never known her maternal grandparents. There had been a falling out, from what she knew, and then they had died some years ago now. Since she knew almost nothing about them, the revelation was not a particular shock to her. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure you have the Carrington Gene in you, even if it hasn't exactly been encouraged down the years. That was thanks to your father, mainly. It was always strong in me."

"And what the hell is the Carrington Gene?"

Maggie drained her cup of tea. "Tell me, sweetheart, do you consider yourself to have a normal libido?"

"I have a healthy sex drive, yes."

"That's not what I asked. I mean, compared to other women your age, do you consider yourself to be about average?"

"I'm not sure that's something I want to discuss with my mother."

"Oh, come now, Elizabeth! Do you think I never knew what you and Ursula got up to when you were teenagers? Admit it, you have an unusually powerful libido. Motherhood might have dulled it for a while, but now that the kids are grown up, I'm prepared to guess that it's resurfacing."

The shrewd guess unnerved Elizabeth. "Maybe."

"Indeed, the timing of Isobel's appearance is unlikely to be mere chance. She hasn't approached you yet, I take it?"

"No."

"Or any of your family?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"She will, though. She or that little minx who lives with her. I'd watch out for that one, if I were you. If Olivia gets Clara or Owen in her clutches... Well, let's not forget that they have the Carrington Gene too. When I had you and your siblings I had to make a choice, either give free rein to the Gene or try to give you a more normal life. I chose the latter, or to be perfectly truthful, your father did. You may choose differently, but you will have to choose. And soon."

"All these hints and innuendoes are making me uncomfortable. Can't you be more specific?"

"I can, and I will be, but it's too soon. All I'll say for now is this - giving free rein to the Carrington Gene, or the Blood of Hyacinthus as it's sometimes called, will make your life exciting, thrilling, even dangerous. You'll certainly never complain about sexual boredom or unfulfillment. But if you choose it for yourself, you're pretty much choosing it for Owen and Clara, too, because I very much doubt that they'll be able to, or even want to, resist it. In truth, if I had my time over again, I'd probably choose the Gene."

ii. A Satisfying Arrangement

Elizabeth had chewed over her mother's words for several days, trying to understand what the woman had been getting at, and wondering how the choice she spoke of would manifest itself. And then, on Saturday morning, she received a text from Simon Wilkinson.

"Hi Beth. Wondering if you had an hour or two this p. m. to spend with me & C?"

This was intriguing. It would normally be Caroline herself who invited her round, if anyone, and this did not make it clear whether Ash was also invited.

"Just me?"

"Good girl would bring hubby. Bad girl wouldn't."

Now this was intriguing. She would have assumed this to be a straight up offer of sex from Simon, except that he had specifically referenced Caroline being there too. Not quite sure how to put this, she ended up by texting:

"C a bad girl too?"

"Wait & see. U won't regret coming."

She waited until mid-afternoon, by which time everyone else was out. She went upstairs to change, putting on a short, leather skirt, a super-tight white blouse, heels, and literally nothing else. She hurried round to the Wilkinsons' house next door, hoping none of her other neighbours saw her en route, and rang the bell. It was Caroline who answered it. She said nothing but gave her an enigmatic smile and beckoned her inside with a crook of her finger. The woman, tall and willowy with long, chestnut hair and beautiful grey eyes, was wearing a floral-print, thigh-length dress, which hugged her flaring buttocks and showed off her slender, shapely legs.

Caroline led her into the living room, where Simon was relaxing on the sofa, most handsome in an open-necked white shirt and chinos. He grinned a wolfish grin as she entered, undressing her with his eyes in a way she found both predatory and immensely satisfying. She was forty-two years old and enjoyed any sexual attention she could get which was still, mercifully, a significant amount. She settled into one of the armchairs while Caroline fixed them all a glass of wine. They chinked them together before Caroline joined her husband on the sofa and took his hand in her own. She cleared her throat, as if she wanted to say something, but was nervous about saying it.

"I'm glad you came, Beth," she began. "I wanted to talk about... about what happened the other week. You know, with you and Simon."

"I, er..."

"It's OK. I know he fucked you, he told me all about it. I don't mind. In fact, I find it a bit of a turn-on when Simon tells me about his conquests."

"Not sure it was a conquest. I wasn't exactly resisting."

"I knew it would happen eventually. I mean, Simon's fancied you since the day we moved in and you... I hope you don't mind me saying this, Beth, but you put out a certain vibe..."

"Well, as I was recently told, I do have an 'unusually powerful libido."

"I hope that's true," said Caroline, "because, well..." She cleared her throat. "Because I have a proposal, or rather Simon does, that would probably only appeal to a... a libidinous woman."

"Oh? I'm intrigued."

"OK, so here's the truth of it. Beth, when I said Simon's fancied you since the day we moved in, well, he's not the only one. I'm... well, I kind of swing both ways, if you know what I mean, and I have to be honest, I've always fancied you too..."

"How flattering!"

"And I... I don't know how you feel about that, but you told Simon he should be ready to fuck you again, whenever you tell him to and... I'd like in on that."

"You would?"

"Obviously, you can say no. I'm not going to stand in the way of you two getting it on, but I'd really, really like to be involved in that, if you've no objection."

"Objection?" asked Elizabeth, slightly incredulous. "Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look in that dress, Caroline?"

"Simon seems to like it..."

"Since the moment you opened the door, I've been itching to slide my hand up under it..."

"Oh!"

"And for myself," added Simon, "I'd really like to watch the two of you getting it on with each other."

"Would you now?" laughed Elizabeth. "Well I bet you would, at that. Men and their lesbian fantasies! I've a mind to take Caroline upstairs and have my way with her, while you stay down here and rely on your perverted imagination."

"Please?" he grinned. "I love watching Caz with other women!"

Elizabeth made a mental note of that and fleetingly wondered exactly how many other women he had watched her fuck, but she said nothing about it for now. "Suppose I said that Caroline and I will 'perform' together, right here and right now, but only if you agree to let my husband suck your cock." Elizabeth had no idea if she could even persuade Ash to do such a thing, though she suspected she could definitely 'order' him to. But the notion had popped into her head, and she couldn't help but test it out. Simon's response to the suggestion took her by surprise.

"I would love your husband to suck my cock," he told her. "Caroline isn't the only one who swings both ways, you know."

"In that case..." grinned Elizabeth. She stood up and offered her hand to Caroline. When the woman took it, Elizabeth hauled her to her feet and swept her into an embrace. There was no hardship whatsoever involved in kissing a beautiful woman thirteen years her junior. She might not crave women in the way that Matilda evidently did, but she was an open-minded person and not without experience in the field. Far from it. Neither, it seemed, was Caroline, whose hands roamed all over the older woman as they kissed. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Simon watching them hungrily. But if, at first, the women had been merely putting on a show for his benefit, the heat of the kiss soon melted any such notion. Caroline was a good kisser, and she tasted and felt amazing. Elizabeth felt a mounting desire to devour her whole.

Giving in to the urge she had had since crossing the threshold, Elizabeth slid her hand up under Caroline's dress and caressed and squeezed the woman's bottom. Like Elizabeth, she was wearing nothing underneath, and the feel of her smooth, pliant skin was intoxicating. Caroline responded by pressing the flat of her palm against Elizabeth's breast, which was straining hard against the taut material of her blouse. If they were putting on a show, it would have surely won plaudits.

Elizabeth slid a second hand under Caroline's dress and kneaded her buttocks, while Caroline reached up between them to unbutton Elizabeth's blouse. The kiss was forgotten now, as the two women started to tear at each other's clothes. Caroline pushed off Elizabeth's blouse while Elizabeth fumbled at the zipper of Caroline's dress. Within a few seconds, the dress was pooled at Caroline's feet, and Elizabeth was down to her short skirt only. Caroline's breasts were simply irresistible, and Elizabeth in any case made no attempt to resist them. She bent to suckle them, cupping them in her hands and licking, sucking, and nibbling them, while Caroline simply threw back her head and yielded to the worship.

Simon had his cock out by now and was languidly masturbating as he watched his wife and next-door-neighbour becoming intoxicated with each other. Elizabeth moved downwards, dropping to her knees. Taking Caroline's thighs in her hands, she encouraged them to part and put her face between them. The younger woman had a small, well-tended patch of pubic hair, just enough to tickle Elizabeth's nose as she lapped exploratively at her slit. Caroline had a clean, musky taste, just the thing to whet a woman's appetite. She inhaled deeply and sighed her satisfaction.

"Sit on the armchair," she told her, speaking for the first time since they had kissed. "Sit down and spread your gorgeous legs for me."

Caroline did not need to be told twice. She collapsed into the armchair and flung her legs apart, spreading herself open to Elizabeth with her fingers. With a growl of sheer lust, Elizabeth buried her face in the younger woman's pussy and immersed herself in it. She had almost forgotten the heady delight of devouring another woman's cunt, the aroma, the taste, the visceral delight in knowing she could bring a bitch to orgasm. She plunged two fingers into Caroline's dripping-wet slit, sawing them in and out as she worked her tongue and lips on her clit. The sound of Caroline's whimpers and little yips turned her on even more, as did the trembling in the woman's thighs. Her tongue and fingers were having the desired effect, and that made her feel powerful.

So immersed was she in her act of cunt-worship, she never even noticed Simon get behind her until he pushed up her mini-skirt and started fingering her pussy. If his plan was to get her wet, he was ten minutes too late. She paused from tonguing Simon's wife long enough to growl, "Just fuck me!"

Grabbing her by the hips, Simon sank his cock into her moist depths, but her only response was to redouble her attack on Caroline's pussy. The woman was pretty far gone by now, to judge from her groaning and trembling. Every now and then she would utter a "Fuck!" or a "God, yes!", but that was all the sense she remained capable of. If she was aware that her husband had driven his cock into Elizabeth's slit, there was no way of telling. Elizabeth's face was washed in the woman's secretions, and her nostrils were filled with the scent of her. It was divine. Divine, too, was the feeling of being filled with cock. Simon began with long, slow, deliberate strokes, but the tempo soon increased, a tempo she matched with her tongue and fingers. Soon the whole room stank of sex and echoed with the sound of three people's moans, curses, and exclamations. Caught between the anvil of the wife and the hammer of the husband, Elizabeth simply gave herself over to lust.

The dam broke when Caroline came. It was an earthquake of an orgasm. Her whole body went rigid except for her shaking thighs, and she emitted a low, animal moan that built and built until she was all but screaming the house down.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck, yes! Yes! Yes!"

Elizabeth showed her no mercy. She didn't wait for the orgasm to subside before renewing her attack. Caroline was tearing at her own hair by now and was all but incoherent.

"Eat... fuck! My cunt... Oh! Fucking do it! Jesus bastard Christ. Ah!"

By the time Elizabeth began her quest to induce a third orgasm, Simon was pounding into her cunt like there was no tomorrow. He started slapping her arse, which she liked even though it struck her as a liberty, but she ignored this in her determination to achieve Caroline's hattrick of orgasms. It was a race now between husband and wife to see who would come first (or third, in Caroline's case). Caroline won it, but by the narrowest of margins. As she shuddered and screamed her way into her ecstatic trinity, it was Simon's turn to stiffen. He gripped hard at Elizabeth's flanks as he emptied himself inside her with a bellow, and she felt like she might drown in the waves of cum erupting into her quim and over her face from husband and wife respectively. She could barely remember ever feeling so desired, so needed, so much the centre of attention. In the space of a few minutes, she had brought a married couple to a quartet of orgasms and barely broken a sweat in doing it.

The three of them broke apart at last. Caroline was a melted puddle on the armchair, barely more than semi-conscious, and still whimpering and trembling. Simon staggered back to the sofa and collapsed on it, his cock still dribbling. Elizabeth got to her feet and straightened out her short skirt. Calmly, she picked up her blouse, put it back on, and demurely buttoned it up.

"That," she told them, "was most satisfying. I'll let myself out but remember, Simon, you agreed a price and I expect you to honour it."

iii. Sharing

Sunday visits to Grandma Maggie's house were always enjoyable. Not only was Clara pampered and flattered by her mom's mom, but she was always fun and interesting to talk to. Since Clara's grandfather died, over seven years ago now, Margaret Willis had lived alone. Yet she never seemed lonely or sad, at least not these days. Some might even say she had blossomed since she became a widow. And so, over tea and biscuits, nineteen-year-old Clara and sixty-two-year-old Maggie chatted more like old friends than granddaughter and grandmother.

They had been chatting for half an hour over the inevitable tea and biscuits, when quite out of the blue her grandmother said, "Have you met Olivia yet? The new girl?"

"I've seen her around," said Clara.

"A pretty thing. Almost as pretty as you."

"She's certainly turned Jamie Stewart's head, from what I hear."

"Jealous?" smiled her grandmother.

"Not really. Jamie's got the rizz, but not really my type."

"Got the rizz? Clara, sweetheart, you have to remember that I'm an old woman."

"Charisma, grandma. Looks. Sex appeal..."

"He has indeed. If I were thirty years younger..."

"Grandma!"

"What? Do you think old women aren't allowed to fantasise?"

"They're not supposed to tell their innocent granddaughters about it!"

Maggie chuckled. "Something tells me you're not quite so innocent. I see you as attracting a positive string of lovers."

"Well they haven't mentioned it to me," huffed Clara. "Not a string, anyway."

"By your age, your mother had definitely had a string of lovers. I had too. It quite runs in the family, you know, and I take it as something to be proud of."

Clara shrugged. "I'd take it if I was offered it."

"Oh no, Clara, don't wait to be offered it. And that goes for anything else in life. You see something you want, you go and grab it with both hands. You're young, you're clever, you're pretty. Sexy, too, if you don't mind me saying so. I very much doubt that Olivia Hendry ever hesitates to grab whatever she wants."

"Why do you keep on about Olivia?"

"No reason. It's just that I know her family somewhat. Or used to know them."

"Oh? I thought she and her aunt were entirely new to the Village."

"And so they are, but I haven't always lived in the Village either. I knew them in my misbegotten youth. Isobel's parents, I should say, and her grandparents."

"And what were they like?"

"The same," smiled Maggie. "All the Carringtons are like that - uncompromising, beautiful, libidinous... The living embodiment of carpe diem, you might say."

"I'm still not sure why we're talking about them, though."

"Just strolling down memory lane, Clara, as old women are wont to do."

"Grandma, since we're on the subject of libidos and what not, have you noticed my mom acting a bit odd lately?"

"Odd? In what way?"

"I'm not sure, exactly, but Owen's noticed it too. She seems, I don't know, energised I suppose. She's started dressing differently and behaving more... assertively. Especially around dad. Owen thinks she's carrying on with the next-door neighbour."

"I can't speak to that, but your mother's always had the instincts of a slut. She's just been repressing them for a very long time."

"What?" Clara was genuinely shocked to hear her grandmother speak so.

The old woman pulled a face. "I don't actually like the word 'slut', because it implies it's somehow wrong or transgressive for a woman to express her sexuality. Your mother, I mean, is naturally libidinous, but marriage and childbirth suppressed those instincts for many years. It's even worse with your Aunt Ursula! I'm of the opinion that these things should not be suppressed, a lesson I learned the hard way. What I'm saying to you, Clara, is that if you feel, let's say, the urge to be libidinous, then fucking go with it."

"Grandma! I never heard you swear before!"

The old woman laughed. "That's because I don't usually swear around children. But you're not a child anymore, Clara, and sometimes a point needs to be emphasised. I believe I shall tell Owen the same thing, when I judge the time right. Given the way he looks at his mother, that ought to be sooner rather than later, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know. The libido in our blood line isn't limited to the girls, after all."

Clara could not wait to tell her brother about the conversation. They had been treading carefully around each other lately. It was well over a month since their mutual wanking session, and they hadn't repeated it, though she did notice that Owen spoke to her more frankly about things now, and she even found herself opening up to him. So, when she managed next to get him alone, she gave him a blow-by-blow account of her conversation with their grandmother, as best as she could remember it.

"And you know, I want to believe that mom's sexually adventurous, but it's a bit hard for me to imagine."

"I don't have any trouble imagining it!" said Owen.

"No, but you're a little perv. I know you think mom's some kind of sex-goddess."

"Well she is! But what I can't believe is that Grandma Maggie would say such things to you."

"She was young herself once," said Clara, who had given the notion much thought. "From what she hinted, she was quite the wild child. She's got you all sussed out, anyway. She hinted very strongly that she knew you fancied mom."

"I'm not ashamed of it," said Owen.

Clara leaned closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But would you actually fuck her? I mean, if the opportunity arose and you could really fuck your own mother, would you do it?"

"In a heartbeat!"

She looked him up and down. "You're such a fucking pervert."

"Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I think I'd fuck Grandma Maggie, too."

"Jesus Christ, Owen!"

"As a matter of fact, I can't think of a single female member of this family who I wouldn't fuck. Mom, Grandma Maggie, Aunt Ursula, Aunt Claudia... and above all my hot, sexy sister," he grinned.

Clara pulled a face, but the attention was not displeasing to her. She could sense her brother becoming turned on by the conversation, and she was getting a bit flustered herself, too. She knew for a fact that they were in the house alone at the moment and decided to throw caution to the wind. "Why don't you get your cock out, little brother? It's been ages since you've given me a show!"

Owen dared to look his sister in the eye. "You mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it! Show it to me!"

Biting his lip, Owen unzipped his jeans and fumbled to extricate his hardening cock through the narrow opening.

Clara made no attempt to disguise her lust. "Such a pretty cock," she teased.

He stroked it a little, eyeing his sister hungrily. "Take your clothes off!" he urged.

It turned Clara on that her brother fancied her so much, and she wanted to play up to it. Also, her grandmother's words were still echoing in her head, If you feel the urge to be libidinous, fucking go with it. Without another word, she stripped off her T-shirt and skinned out of her jeans, leaving her dressed in nothing but her skimpy underwear. Owen's cock lurched, and he began to stroke it harder.

"Want to see my tits?" she teased.

"Fuck, yeah!"

Laughing, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. She did have gorgeous tits, nobody was going to deny that. Owen certainly seemed to like them. She kept her eyes fixed on her brother's cock as his hand pumped up and down the shaft. She stripped off her knickers and did a twirl for him.

"How do you like your naked sister, perv-boy?"

"Very nice!" he said. "You're sexy as fuck, since you ask."

"Aren't I, though?" Clara lay on the bed, head on the pillow, and spread her legs. "I think it's time you had a taste of pussy, baby brother. Come and lick it for me."

Owen had never licked a girl's pussy before, and it showed. Truth be told, he wasn't very good at it and didn't really know what he was doing, but she directed him, and he started to get the hang of it. It wasn't the point anyway. The point was that her brother was going down on her, and there was no scenario in which that wasn't as sexy as hell. It was so fucked up! It was pretty obvious he wasn't going to make her come, so she lay back and enjoyed the wrongness of it, playing up the groans and whimpers so as to encourage her baby brother.

"Let me play with your dick now," she said, after ten minutes of strenuous, if unrewarded, effort. He surfaced, his face shining with her juices. He hadn't been that incompetent. He was still hard, too, and she encouraged him to lie on the bed beside her. Wrapping her fingers around the shaft of his cock, she started with slow, easy strokes, reading his reactions by the sound of his breathing, the expression on his face, and the tension in his hands and thighs. She soon stepped up the pace because she could sense how exciting this was for him, to have a real live girl playing with his cock. As she sensed him nearing the edge, she picked up the pace again, her hand a blur on his cock. He tensed and groaned, then his cock started to spew its worked-for treasures. He came all over his own stomach, which was pretty hot, and Clara kept pumping him until she'd liberated the last trickle of cum.

She left him like that, a smile on her face, as she went back to her own room for a wank.

iv. The Constraints of Morality and Convention

"So it's all true, then?" Elizabeth Brookes stared hard at the cool blonde sitting on the other side of the table in the Village's only tearoom.

"It's all true!" Isobel Carrington turned both her palms up. "Does it bother you?"

"Well it's all a bit... creepy, don't you think?"

"Creepy? I suppose you could look at it like that. But I'm a Carrington, Beth, and it's what we do. I have a knack for spotting people's true desires, their hidden desires if you like, and I happen to think it makes their lives better if they can find a way to turn them into reality. Or are you going to tell me you haven't had fun fucking your next-door neighbours?"

"A great deal of fun, but how exactly do you know about that?"

"I have little birds who chirp to me."

"Tilda! Who the fuck else?"

"Not Matilda, as a matter of fact. But never mind that. Tell me about those lovely children of yours."

Elizabeth glared at her. "Clara and Owen are off limits to you. You'd better get that through your head from the start."

"But they're my darling cousins!" smirked Isobel. "Can I be blamed for asking after them?"

"They'll make their own choices in life, without any interference from you!"

"But surely you don't want them to grow up in the dark, like you did?"

"Anything they need to be told, I'll tell them. Clear?"

Isobel held up both hands. "Perfectly clear, mistress," she said, with a lick of her lips. "All I'm saying is that Clara and Owen, all of the children of you Bored Housewives, as a matter of fact, are full of curiosity, full of the spirit of exploration and, being teenagers, full of hormones."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that it's not only us washed-up old people who need to be encouraged to explore our sexual potential. I'm saying that they do too."

"Maybe so, but they're hardly going to want to hear it from their mothers."

"Really? I'm not sure I agree. From what I hear on the grapevine, many of them are already well down the road of sexual discovery, and not all of them have strayed outside their own families to do it."

"Are you serious? I mean, I know about Tilda's kids, but..."

Isobel did that infuriating smug smile of hers. "Not just them. You see, it's not at all uncommon. I think it's perfectly charming, and the thought of it makes my pussy wet."

"Jesus!"

Isobel pulled a face. "Ugh, let's leave him out of it, shall we? Fucking killjoy."

Elizabeth laughed. "What exactly are you driving at, though?"

"I'm saying, let the kids have their freedom. Let the constraints of morality and convention, which have had you Housewives down for too long, be removed from their necks. Let them fly free, wherever that flight ends up taking them."

"I doubt I could stop them even if I wanted to."

"And do you want to?"

Elizabeth considered this for a moment. "No," she admitted. "No, I don't."

IV. Wishes Made Horses

A loving husband will offer his wife's cunt to his friends

Sir William Carrington, On Marriage, Maxim 4

i. Maria Hosts the BHC

Since discovering that the twins had an inkling of what she was up to, Maria had retreated from any notion of illicit sex. Actually, what had finally closed the door on it for her had been Matilda's revelation that she was turned on by her son and daughter's incestuous carryings on. She loved a good fuck as much as anyone, but this was getting out of hand. So, despite Vicky's entreaties to arrange more liaisons between the two couples, she had stood firm. No more extra-marital sex. No more escapades. When she hosted the May meeting of the Bored Housewives Club, it would be a return to coffee, snacks, weed, and gossip, and that would be an end to it. She told Vicky as much, suspecting that, that being the case, the woman wouldn't even see any point in attending. Talk about the best laid plans of mice and men...

Vicky did turn up, as it happened, dressed in a gorgeous blue dress split all the way up to her hips. She looked radiant. Annie was already there by then, of course, dressed in white like some kind of virgin sacrifice. Beth arrived next, head to toe in black and looking both sexy and dangerous. Tilda, to nobody's surprise, was last, dressed in a green silk blouse and a black pencil skirt all but painted onto her shapely hips.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with all the sexual shenanigans," Maria told them. "I think it's gone too far, actually."

"It has gone very far," said Beth, "but I'm here to tell you that it has a lot further to go. And before anyone tells us of their adventures, or makes any decisions about the future, there's something you all need to know, something I've recently discovered, which might make all of us look at things a bit differently. I want to talk to you all about the Carrington family, and the Carrington Gene, and exactly why Isobel Carrington turned up in the Village this year."

The tale she told was short on details, but heavy on implication. The revelation that Isobel had come to the Village with the specific intent of guiding its inhabitants into sexual adventurousness stunned all of them. The further revelation that Elizabeth herself had Carrington blood in her veins left them all open-mouthed.

"So there you have it. We thought our little Bored Housewives Club had spurred us all into a sexual reawakening, but that wasn't the spur at all. It was Isobel who suggested that Vicky approach Maz about wife-swapping; It was Isobel who suggested to Annie that she bring out Will's masterful side; It was Isobel who seduced Tilda and persuaded her to explore her lesbian inclinations; And though it wasn't Isobel who persuaded me to explore my dominatrix fantasies, she did contact my mother from the very first. In any case, given my unexpected Carrington blood, it seems I don't actually need to be encouraged."

"So are we... what? An experiment?" asked Annie.

"I don't think so. I don't really know."

"What does it matter, though?" asked Tilda. "It's not like she's forcing us to do anything we don't want to do. It's not like she's even 'corrupting' us into fantasies we wouldn't otherwise have had. I've done things I would never have dreamed of doing, that's true, all of them encouraged by Isobel. But I wanted to do those things. I was just too scared or too guilty or too ashamed to do them."

"I agree," said Annie. "My sex life is a hundred times better since Will discovered his inner master."

"I'm not suggesting she's done anything harmful," said Beth. "I just want you all to understand what's going on. Then, whatever we choose to do, we make our choices with open eyes. "Maz," she said, turning to her, "I understand that you're worried about your kids, about being a bad mother, that you're nervous about some of the turns we've made. And honestly, none of us is going to try to make you do anything you don't want to do. But not only is the BHC not corrupting us, in my opinion it's what helps to keep us grounded. We can lean on each other, talk to each other, make sure we're doing things because it's what we want to do, not because of a succubus named Isobel, or a gene named Carrington. You told us yourself how exciting it was to wife-swap with Vicky, no?"

Maria nodded. She had missed the thrill of it, not really compensated for by the moral virtue she had replaced it with. "All right," she said, "tell your dirty stories. I don't have any to tell. I've been a good girl all month long. Oh, I did turn thirty-eight last month, but I kept that pretty much to myself, but other than that... Let me just sit and listen, occasionally shaking my head or tutting. Is that OK?"

"Happy birthday," smiled Beth. "And that's perfectly fine."

ii. Defining the Rules

"I have to confess something to you," said Josh. They were lying in bed together, late one night and Maria, feeling frisky, had been playing with her husband's cock, trying unsuccessfully to coax it.

"You do?"

"Mm hm. Look, I'm not sure what the rules are exactly but... last weekend..."

"You went next door and fucked Vicky," Maria finished. "I know. She told me."

"Really? Don't you two have any secrets from each other?"

"Not about sex, no. I don't think so. Anyway, she asked my permission first."

"She asked me to cheat on you. I said I'd never do that, but she just laughed and said that, after all, you'd cheated on me. I said that was different, because you told me about it afterwards, but of course she said, 'well you can tell her about it, if you like'. I should have known she only said that because you already bloody well knew. But I want you to know, Maz, I wasn't trying to even the score," he said. "I feel guilty as hell for doing it..."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"At the time, yes. It was pretty wild, actually."

"I heard she got well and truly destroyed."

"Jesus! She told you that?"

"She said she had Richard in her fanny and you up her bum. I'm surprised you didn't mind having your cock so close to another man's."

"It was a bit weird," he confessed. "I liked doing her up the bum, though."

"Perv! Wish I could have seen that!"

"I was beginning to think you were losing your nerve about all the wife-swapping stuff. It's been weeks since you did anything with them."

Maria sighed. "The truth is, I got a bit freaked out with all the BHC business. Some of the girls are doing things I can't really condone."

"But?"

"But actually, the more I think about it, the more I can see that what they do shouldn't constrain me from doing what I feel comfortable doing. What we've done with Vicky and Richard... I mean, it's not harming anyone, is it? Neither of us is cheating, not really, because neither of us objects."

"I certainly don't."

"So, I think I want to carry on with it. Experimenting with sex, I mean. Turning thirty-eight made me realise I won't be young forever. I want to do wild things while I still can. And if the other girls want to do their thing, even if it's things I'm uncomfortable with, then that's up to them."

"I'm glad because Vicky and I have something in mind. A belated birthday present. But I'm not sure you'd be up for it."

"And what exactly is it?"

"You. Me. Three other men..."

"Three?" She could feel her pulse suddenly racing. "You mean a gang-bang?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"A gang-bang of me."

"Yes."

"Fuck!"

"I know it's your fantasy, Maz. Vicky told me. It is your fantasy, isn't it?"

She nodded. "But... wouldn't you mind? Sharing me with three other men." He didn't need to answer. She could feel his cock finally stiffening in her hand as they talked about it. The bastard was turned on by the thought of his wife being gang-banged. "Since you ask, I'd fucking love it!"

iii. Butter Churning

Belinda was wide-eyed as Dani voiced her latest suspicions. "No way!"

"I saw what I saw," said Dani.

"Tell me again!"

Dani sighed. "We were both getting ready to go out. Lilah was going to a night club with a bunch of her friends. And while she was getting ready to get pissed, hook up, and get banged all night, I was getting ready to come round here. Which I'd far rather do, by the way!" she added, anticipating Belinda's objection. "I was about to head out the door when Lilah comes down the stairs, all stunning in an LBD that was pretty much painted on and stopped way up her thighs. Way up!"

"You make me wish I'd been there," said Belinda tactlessly.

Dani glared at her. "I had to stop myself staring, I must admit. But someone who didn't feel the need to stop staring was my bloody dad! I caught Tanya's eye, and it was obvious she'd clocked it too, so it's not like I was imagining it. I've caught him doing it before, but this time he was practically drooling. That was not a paternal gaze, trust me!"

"Lilah is pretty hot, though."

"Don't start! It's no fun having a sister who's hotter than you are."

"Don't be jealous!" laughed Belinda. "Anyway, I never said she was hotter than you."

"Are you flirting with me, Bella Bel?" giggled Dani.

"I believe I am, Ellie Pie."

For a moment, the two old friends looked at each other. It was weird how, in Belinda's eyes, Dani was simultaneously the girl next door, whom she'd known since childhood, and at the same time an object of sudden desire, that girl you see across the room and instantly fancy.

"Are we being weird?" asked Dani.

Belinda shrugged. "Would that be a bad thing?"

"I don't think so. Only, I suddenly have this crazy urge to kiss my best friend, and that seems pretty weird to me."

"You know, I'm having the same urge."

And just like that, they were kissing again. It wasn't playful, either, it was a full-on snog, and it felt amazing, not weird at all. True, she had her eyes closed and could have imagined herself kissing any hot girl, but the fact is she wasn't imagining anyone but Dani. She pressed closer, hugged her tight, parted her lips, probed with her tongue. She was certain that would make Dani pull away, but it definitely didn't. Until the two of them had shared that first (and only) kiss a couple of months ago, Belinda have never kissed another girl, though she had pictured it a thousand times (often with pop stars or sports stars, often with girls she knew like Paige Farrow or, more recently, Olivia Hendry. They broke apart, breathless, gazing at each other in astonishment.

"I've been mustering up the nerve to do that ever since that last time," said Belinda.

"You have?"

"I have," she confirmed. "I've thought about it a lot. It definitely made me question exactly how much I was into girls."

"And?"

"I'm thinking that, on the girls versus boys scale, I'd say 60:40."

"I like those odds," grinned Dani. "But what if it turns out I'm below-average when it comes to other girls. That might push the odds up to, what, 70:30? 80:20?"

"I suppose I'd have to kiss a few more girls before I could judge. But I'd be surprised if any girl could have beaten that kiss."

"Thank-you!" She could tell that Dani was flustered and doing her best to hide it. She felt pretty much the same herself. "Want to do it again?"

"As a matter of fact I do. Thank-you for asking."

They lay down on the bed together and went for it. Belinda's hand wandered over Dani's denim-clad bum this time which felt, well, amazing. She was tingling all over, desperately hoping that Dani was too.

"You're making me all apple-saucy," Dani complained.

"Oh! Are you frothin', girl?"

"My butter's most definitely churning!" she grinned.

"Mm, I do like butter. I'm humid in all the right places myself. Want to watch me wank?"

Dani's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

Belinda nodded. "There's a condition though?"

"What?"

"Once I'm done, you have to let me watch you."

"That's fair," conceded Dani. "God, it's so naughty! But what if Natasha comes in?"

"Meh, she sees what she sees!"

"Or your mom!"

"Mom's out. We're fine." And so saying, she clambered out of her T-shirt and gave a shimmy to make her tiny boobs jiggle. Dani swallowed hard, staring frankly at them. "Fuck!"

"Like them?"

"Fuck, yeah! God, Bella Bel, you have gorgeous tits!"

"I do like my tits, what there is of them. But there's something else I like even more. Would you like to see that?"

"I need to see it!"

Giggling, Belinda lowered her jeans, kicked them off, then settled herself on the bed and seductively spread her legs, pulling aside her knickers. Dani stifled a whimper. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

Dani sat on the bed beside her feet, half turned to her, with her eyes fixed on Belinda's puffy slit. "It's beautiful. Oh Belle, you're beautiful. I'm so jealous of you."

"You're jealous of me? But you're way prettier!"

"Nuh-uh! You give me the tingles. Here." She pointed between her thighs never, however, taking her big, brown eyes away from Belinda's vulva.

"Where?" teased Belinda. "Where's 'here'?"

Giggling, Dani swatted at her. "In my cunt, you slut!"

"Damn straight!" grinned Belinda. But then she grew more serious as she dropped one hand down between her thighs and used her thumb and forefingers to spread herself. "And how do you like it now?" she husked.

Dani bent closer. "Oh my God! I never saw a girl's pussy from so close before!"

"Is it pretty?"

Her friend bit her lip. "I think it's the prettiest thing I ever saw!"

Belinda flicked her clitoris with her finger, then ran two fingers up and down her shiny slit, letting out a satisfied moan as she did so. "Come and get naked," she said. "We can beat around the bush together."

Laughing, Dani shyly shucked off her denims until she was standing in just her bra and knickers, earning her a wolf-whistle from her friend.

"Come on, show me your girls!" goaded Belinda, fingering herself more urgently now.

"Hardly worth seeing," apologised Dani as she unclasped her bra and let it fall. If Belinda's breasts were modest, Dani's were almost non-existent. That didn't stop Belinda groaning with lust. Dani got on the bed, facing Belinda at the other end, and slid one hand into her knickers. The hardest thing for Belinda was to maintain eye contact with her friend while they both masturbated, that and not to burst out laughing. But humour and shyness were soon conquered by arousal, and before too long both girls were attacking their own pussies with some abandon. Belinda came first, red faced and gasping as she shivered and shuddered her way through orgasm. That set Dani off. A powerful climax took hold of her.

They lay together, panting and giggling, as they recovered. They kissed again, and Belinda played with Dani's micro-tits for a while before they both lost their nerve and got dressed.

"That was special," Belinda told her. "I mean, really special, Dan."

"It was a proper turn-on," acknowledged Dani. "Best orgasm ever."

"Me too," said Belinda, smiling from ear to ear.

They went downstairs together, where they found Natasha lounging on the sofa, watching television. "Nice fuck, was it?" she asked nonchalantly as the two of them entered.

"Amazing," said Belinda. "You should have been there."

"Ugh, no thanks, you're both too ugly. It was bad enough that I had to feel it."

"What are you watching?" asked Dani, apparently keen to change the subject.

"Channel-surfing," she shrugged. "Bored."

"Read a book, then!" chided Belinda.

"Fuck off, Belly-Bops. Had any luck snooping on mommy and daddy?" she asked Dani.

"She saw her dad lusting over Lilah," said Belinda.

"Well, everyone lusts after Lilah, don't they?"

"Do you?" asked Belinda.

"Meh. I suppose if I ever turned lezzie like you two, Lilah might be the one to convince me. But although I agree everything's gone quiet on the parent-pervert front, I get the feeling something's being planned."

"Planned? By who?"

"You mean 'by whom'. Jeez, I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. I'm just supposed to be the hot one. Planned by mom and dad, and Dan's mom and dad. Maybe some other people. Hard to tell, because all I have to go on is a few overheard snippets here and there. My impression is that mom was getting cold feet, but that dad and Dan's parents are trying to win her back to the dark side. Of course, I could be imagining it all."

"Probably," said Belinda.

"I don't know." Dani frowned. "I think Tasha may be right."

"Probably an orgy," said Natasha matter-of-factly.

"I can't really imagine mom and dad at an orgy," said Belinda, wrinkling up her nose.

"Maybe my dad," said Dani. "Don't know about mom though. I mean, she may be a dark horse, but she seems so..."

"Clever? Serious?" suggested Belinda.

"Yes, I suppose."

"She's pretty bloody hot though, isn't she?" pointed out Natasha. "I can totally see your mom at an orgy." She fell silent for a few seconds while they all digested this observation. "I wish I got invited to orgies," she complained. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Dani. "Especially if your dad was there!"

"Nats!" warned Belinda.

"Oh, what? If you get to fuck the daughter, can't I fantasise about fucking the dad?"

"My dad!" said Dani. "Not that I'm entirely sure he wouldn't. But whatever our sex-crazed parents are up to, if anything, I don't suppose they'd tell us about it."

iv. Love is Blind

"A blindfold?" Quite why Josh was insisting on Maria being blindfolded, she couldn't guess.

"Vicky's idea. She said, 'imagine how much hotter it will be, if you don't know exactly which three men are fucking you'!"

"Bloody hell! That is so fucking hot!"

"I wasn't sure you'd go for it. I think I keep underestimating you, my darling."

"You'll learn," she smirked. This was going to be good.

She got into the passenger seat with the blindfold already in place, and Josh drove her only a couple of streets away, by her best guess, assuring her that they weren't leaving the Village, and that the other three men present would also be from the Village. In the days to come, she realised, there would be three men she passed in the street, maybe every day, who knew they had fucked her, even though she wouldn't know they had. Now that was a turn-on! Josh led her out of the car, and she heard him ring a doorbell. The door opened and they were ushered inside, though no word was spoken.

"Ah, there you are!" she heard a familiar voice say.

"Vicky? You're here?"

"I'm to be your handmaiden for the evening," she laughed. "Josh, go upstairs and get ready. The others are already there. We'll be up in about fifteen minutes."

She heard Josh hurry up the stairs as Vicky led her to an armchair and sat her down. "Can't I take this thing off for a minute?" she asked. "If it's only you, why do I need to be blindfolded?"

"Because you get no clues," said Vicky. "We don't want you to know where you've been, who was here, or what they looked like."

"We?"

"Those of us who planned this."

"Yes, and who's that?"

"Me, Josh, and... certain others. I told you, no clues."

"Is Richard one of the three men?"

"You do understand what 'no clues' means, don't you? Here, take a puff of this to calm your nerves."

"Who said I'm nervous?"

"Well, you're about to be banged by four men, three of whom could be literally anyone. I'd be nervous. Who wouldn't be?"

With a shrug, Maria accepted the spliff that Vicky placed in her fingers, and took a deep puff of it, then another. She was nervous, there was no point in denying it. But excited too. More excited than she could ever remember being.

"When will I find out who they are?"

"You won't. At least, not necessarily. But you will pass them in the street, and they'll see you, and they'll know what a perfect slut you are."

"Christ, that's hot."

As Vicky led her upstairs and into the main bedroom, her stomach was flipping over. Was she insane to have agreed to this? Was she really going to go through with it? What on earth had possessed her? Or Josh for that matter, or Vicky? She listened hard as Vicky brought her to a standstill, searching for any possible clue about the identity of the men in the room, but it soon became obvious that the only people permitted to speak were herself, Vicky, and Josh. At first, she could not be sure whether anyone else was even present but for Vicky's assurance that they were.

"Kneel!" Vicky told her. Maria did not reply, but sank to her knees, resting back on her heels. "Before we properly get going, you have four cocks to get hard, so let's get that slut mouth working."

Almost before Vicky had finished speaking, a half-hard cock was pushing at Maria's lips, which parted of their own volition. Whoever this was, it wasn't Josh. She knew the taste of his cock, and the size of it. This one had an earthier taste, and it was bigger, quite a lot bigger as it started to swell in her mouth. She would have reached up to feel his balls, but before she could do so, her arms were seized, and her hands were guided upwards. Her fingers wrapped around two more cocks, one thick and long, the other slenderer but delightfully smooth and hard. She began to pump both hands up and down, even as her tongue swirled around the cock in her mouth.

"That's it, sweetie," whispered Josh's voice from behind her. "Let me see you work those cocks."

From the sucking sounds coming from his proximity, she could only assume that Vicky had taken on the responsibility of getting him hard. Cool! And at the same time, very, very hot! As the first cock nudged at the back of her throat, Maria pumped harder at the two in her hands. She was already confronted by three iron hard cocks, two of which were exceptionally large, and the third more than satisfying. Knowing Vicky (and knowing Josh), she doubted her husband's cock was any less hard than the other three. And the men surrounding her were touching her now; One had his hands wrapped in her hair, another was kneading her shoulder, the third was stroking her back. So far, it was all quite nurturing, but she had a feeling that things would soon become wilder. She hoped so. She hadn't come here for a cuddle.

The sharp report of a hand clap caused everyone to stop what they were doing. The first cock, which had been threatening to throat-fuck her, was withdrawn. The two men she had been wanking stepped back. "Well, I can see everyone's nice and hard," she heard Vicky say, "and I must say, it's most pleasant to be in a room full of rock-hard dicks. What more could any girl want? But it's time we started putting them to profitable use, wouldn't you say? You, slut, I want you on the bed, on your back, with your whore legs wide apart. That shouldn't be difficult, since it's pretty much your default position, you dirty, fucking cunt."

This surprised Maria, who had not expected Vicky to use such degrading language about her. Yet it stirred something in her and, though shocking, it felt right. Not only did she feel like a dirty whore, that was exactly how she wanted to feel. Vicky helped her to her feet, kissed her, and led her to the bed. After so long on her knees, it felt pleasant to lie back on the soft mattress, and Maria let out a gentle moan as she settled into it. It took more nerve than she had imagined to spread her legs, knowing she was exposing herself not only to her husband and her close friend, but to three other men she might or might not know. That really did make her a slut, at least by all the rules she had been brought up to believe. And yet the moment she did spread them, she felt a wave of liberation wash over her. If these people didn't want to see her pussy, they could always look away. But if they did want to see it, who was she to deny it to them? But she wasn't merely showing it to them, was she? She was offering it up to them, like a gift or a sacrifice.

She felt the mattress depress in several directions at once as people climbed onto the bed. She took a deep breath. Her heart was hammering, in both a good way and a bad way. There were hands on her, many hands. Hands squeezing her breasts. Hands stroking her thighs. Hands playing with her hair. Hands touching her between her legs, running explorative fingers along the crease of her vulva. Probing hands. Bold hands. Shameless hands. She let out a heavy sigh, laying her head back and allowing it all to happen. She heard the click of a camera, then another.

"Are you photographing me, Mrs Peterson?" she asked.

"Photos and videos," said Vicky. "Because eventually, I want to let you know exactly how it looked, and exactly who was here. Not yet though. Not for a good while yet."

There was a mouth on her left breast, a finger in her pussy, a tongue in her ear, kisses to her feet. Talk about being the centre of attention! All eyes, all hands, all mouths were on her and her alone. Even the camera was on her. She swallowed hard, then gasped as the finger was joined by a second, and the two began to saw back and forth inside her. She might have said something, told whoever it was to go faster, but lips descended on hers, a tongue probed into her mouth. Both her breasts were being mauled now, and she was breathing hard. This felt good. No, this felt better than good. This felt like being worshipped. Not bad for a woman of thirty-seven.

Someone was licking her pussy now. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing. She arched her back, pushing herself into the venerating mouth. A tongue flicked over her clit, sending jolts of electricity up and down her body. Someone took her left hand and wrapped its fingers around the shaft of a rock-solid dick. She purred into someone's mouth as she ran her fingers up and down, up and down, and it was an impressively long way from up to down. Her other hand was suddenly cupping someone's balls, squeezing them as he stroked his own shaft, their fingers intermittently touching. Denied her eyes, her sense of smell, of hearing, and especially of touch intensified. She could smell male arousal in every direction and imagined herself lost in a forest of cocks. If so, she never wanted to find her way home.

"Is someone going to fuck me?" she heard herself say.

"Yes!" said Vicky. "Somebody fuck the bitch, for Christ's sake."

The man who was licking her pussy was the one to rise to the challenge. He moved up her body and slid himself into her. He lifted her hips with both hands, raising her vulva to the level of his cock, then hooked her legs over his shoulders so that he could get deeper inside. Maria liked that, she liked it deep. Whoever this man was, he was good, and as he slammed into her, she moaned and whimpered, not really knowing what she was saying. But the whimpering was silenced by another cock sliding between her lips. It was so fucking huge, it felt like her jaw might break. And as she sucked that man's cock (as best she could), and took the other's in her pussy, a third man fingered her clit.

"Isn't she a goddess?" she heard Josh ask.

"Fucking Aphrodite, man!" agreed Vicky.

As the cock slid in and out of her, Maria let all the sensations wash over her. Behind the darkness of her blindfold, she luxuriated in the physical worship of her body. It was hard to know which sensation to focus on, so instead she allowed them all to meld together in a vortex of lust. She had always enjoyed the feeling of a cock in her mouth, and this one was bigger than any she had known before, and more insistent. She soon became aware that he was trying to drive it into her throat. With her face turned towards him, and her cheek on the pillow, she opened herself up to him and felt him slide inside. She fought the urge to gag, though she could feel drool welling up in her mouth, leaking from her lips and dripping down his cock. With one hand holding her head steady, the man started fucking her throat, even as the other one fucked her pussy.

For a moment, she imagined the two cocks meeting inside her, head-to-head somewhere in her ribcage. She groaned, then all the more so as the third man increased the friction on her clit, and a fourth began suckling at her breast. Or was that a woman's mouth? She couldn't be sure. And soon all conscious thought fled out of the window as a first orgasm came on her so swiftly it took her by surprise. She stiffened, then began to shake and shudder, emitting a keening sound around the cock stuffing up her mouth.

All the men withdrew except for the one fingering her clitoris. As the cock vacated her pussy, the fingers slid inside her. She was so gaping and so soaking that she could have taken his whole hand, and she was pretty sure he had three digits inside her, fucking her almost gently as she came down from her climax.

"More..." she moaned. "Want more..."

"Get up on your hands and knees, slut!" Vicky told her.

In her present liquid state, Maria was in no mood to resist. The man withdrew his fingers, and she turned on her front then got up onto all-fours, aware that she was displaying her arse to anyone who wanted to see. It turned out that someone didn't only want to see her arse but to taste it. In mere moments, two broad hands were on her buttocks, and a tongue was lapping her arsehole. Someone else was sucking and nibbling on her toes. A third person was cupping her breasts and squeezing them where they dangled beneath her. And then someone was breathing into her ear before whispering, "How would you like it up the arse, Maz?"

She grunted her assent. She didn't often agree to anal sex but in her current mood she'd take it anywhere and any way. Someone squeezed cold lube between her buttocks, and seconds later a cockhead was nudging at her anus. Then she was being stretched open by something far more monstrous than Josh's cock (which was by no means small). Her squeals were silenced by another cock in her mouth, which she sucked with unfeigned hunger.

"Yeah, fuck the bitch!" urged Vicky. "Fuck that delicious slut for me!"

"Take it deep!" Josh urged her and punctuated his words with a loud slap of her arse. She groaned, the best she could do with her mouth full. What a sight she must have made, attacked from either end. She could feel and hear hips slapping against her buttocks with every deep in-stroke, and the wet, slobbering sounds as she sucked dick.

"You know," said Vicky, "you're only making use of two of the slut's holes. That seems wasteful."

"Fuck yes, I want her pussy!" she heard Josh say.

Directed by Vicky, the men withdrew from her arse and mouth, but only so that they could reposition her. Vicky helped her into position astride someone's (presumably Josh's) hips and had her sink onto his cock with a squelch. She was incredibly wet, and he slid inside without resistance. Vicky then had her bend forwards, so as to lift up her arse.

"You OK with this?" Josh whispered to her.

"I want it! I need it!" She was intoxicated with lust, she was like a wild savage. Someone got up on the bed behind her, on his knees, and guided his cock back into her arsehole. Maria gasped but did not protest. She was stuffed so full of cock it felt like she might burst. And she really did feel like a goddess. Josh was content to keep his cock embedded in her as the other man resumed his thrusting movements in her arse. Meanwhile, another cock was being guided between her lips, a different one from before to judge by the girth and taste of it. Maria was happy to take it, because not having a cock in her mouth at this point would have been too much to bear.

"Look at this magnificent slut!" enthused Vicky. "Fucking airtight!"

All three men were moving now, pushing into Maria's body from every direction, filling her up, fucking her in every orifice. Beneath them, and between them, she was writhing and groaning, drowning in a sea of masculinity, besieged by a phallic army. She knew it was Josh in her pussy, but who the other two men might be she had no clue. The man in her arse was like the conductor, setting the pace and the tone, and he was fucking her with real urgency now, pounding in and out, his balls slapping her buttocks with every in-stroke. But it was the man in her mouth who came first. She could sense it seconds before it happened, but she didn't pull away. Her grabbed hold of her hair as he exploded against the back of her throat, nearly choking her with a flood of hot, sticky cum. She guzzled it down and kept right on sucking as he pulled at her hair and attacked her mouth.

"More!" she yelled as he withdrew at last. "Fuck me! Fucking use me!"

His cock was soon replaced by the fourth man's, smaller but still delicious. She sucked hard, wanting all of them to come inside her or over her. She didn't have long to wait. Josh was coming already, pumping sperm into her cunt with a moan of pure release. The man in her mouth withdrew only to shoot all over her face, and he wasn't finished by the time the man in her arse also exploded. As for her, she had already come more times than she could count yet had not lost her want by an iota. She almost wished Vicky had another four men waiting in the next room.

After the three strangers left, but with Maria still blindfolded, Vicky went down on her friend. Well, that was a first. She slurped Josh's cum out of her pussy and the other man's out of her arsehole, then licked her pussy until she came one last time. She collapsed after that, barely conscious, and Josh had to carry her out to the car, blindfold still in place.