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Information Curiosity at the pajama party
Posted by: Simon - 11-24-2025, 09:09 PM - Replies (2)

“But Mom,” Rose complained tearfully, “you know we had planned a pajama party for this weekend. I’ve already invited all three of her friends!”

“I know, dear,” replied her mother, “but my brother and his wife are unexpectedly joining us on the trip this weekend, and they aren’t taking Tim with them. So he’s staying here for the weekend. You know him; he’s a good boy and won’t bother you at all.”

Rose grunted angrily but didn't protest any further. It was obviously a done deal, and protesting wouldn't change anything, only provoke her parents' anger. Even so, she hated it: she and her friends had been planning it for weeks and were looking forward to a fun girls' weekend without their parents.

When Tim heard he was spending the weekend with his aunt, he simply nodded. He liked his cousin Rose, and his aunt and uncle owned a large house in the nearby village on the other side of the hills. He liked it there, and the weather was going to be nice that weekend, so they could swim in their pool. But his mood soured when his mother told him that his cousin Rose had planned a pajama party with her friends. He didn't like the idea of being the only boy with four girls all weekend.

"Can I bring a friend?" he pleaded. "It's no fun with just girls. And I bet they're all older than me, just like Rose, so their friends will be too."

His mother didn't like the idea of having this discussion with her brother, knowing he was very old-fashioned and strict about boys and girls staying together, but she understood Tim's reluctance. Perhaps her sister-in-law could be persuaded.

When she finally succeeded, Tim jumped up joyfully and immediately called his best friend Kevin to ask if he would like to stay with him for the weekend.

It was an awkward situation when Tim and Kevin were dropped off at his cousin's house.

His uncle, a backwoodsman, was clearly not thrilled at the idea of Tim and his friend staying unsupervised with the girls this weekend. He hadn't been enthusiastic about his daughter's plans to spend the night there from the start.

The two boys were shocked when he took them apart and said in a soft, threatening voice:

"I don't like the idea of you two being left unsupervised with girls at all. Your mother and my wife arranged it, so I have to accept it. But let me tell you one thing, son: behave yourself and don't even think about touching the girls, or I'll rip your balls off with my bare hands and crush them under my heels!"

He looked at the boys and grimaced as if he were about to carry out his threat, and the boys trembled and promised never to do anything that was not allowed or wrong.

When the boys returned after the stern warning, still looking shocked, Rose's mother took them aside for her sermon, which was stern but not too threatening.

"You just have to keep an eye on the boys and make sure they don't break anything in the house or on themselves," she said, smiling.

Rose grinned and rolled her eyes; she couldn't imagine her younger cousin Tim breaking anything. He was 14 and already a man, but his mannerisms were still those of the boy he'd always been: shy, even a little timid, and always kind and polite. His cute little button nose and almond-shaped brown eyes made him look sweet in a boyish way. Not like a boy ready to romp around.

“Make sure you all eat dinner together and keep the house clean,” their mother continued, “and judging by the boys’ expressions, Papa seems to have instilled in them a healthy dose of fear of girls. You know he wasn’t exactly happy with the situation, to say the least. Make sure you girls stay away from anything intimate with the boys. No touching, you know the risks, and the last thing we want is for you or any of the girls to get pregnant.”

Rose rolled her eyes; this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with her mother, but she got the message. Of course she was interested in boys, but she was also a little scared. The boys in her class were usually rather pushy when it came to going out with girls, and she knew that ultimately they were all only interested in one person.

Shortly after the adults left, Rose's first friends arrived, and the boys jumped into the pool behind the house, where they frolicked for over an hour and then enjoyed the sun.

The six teenagers didn't have much planned for the afternoon, and Leah, 17 years old and the oldest of the girls, suggested:

"Let's hike up the hill to the viewpoint and have some ice cream there. I know a nice path to get there."

Everyone was thrilled, and off they went.

After almost an hour of hiking and chatting, they reached the summit of the ridge with its magnificent views across the hills in every direction. It was warm, and the hike had made them sweat, but luckily a light breeze was blowing at the top, and they lay lazily in the sun enjoying their ice cream.

They took a different route back, which seemed a bit more strenuous, but perhaps that was just because the sun was getting warmer. If they weren't already hot and sweaty from the climb, they certainly were now.

Once home, they rested by the pool for a while until Rose said:

“I’m getting hungry; maybe we should get our things ready and prepare dinner.”

“We’ve already taken our bags to the guest room,” Tim replied. “Should we help with dinner?”

"That's alright, Ann, Sarah, we'll sleep downstairs in the common room. Leah already has her things there, you can put yours there too."

While the two girls grabbed their bags and went down to the basement, the boys joined Leah in the kitchen, where they prepared the pizzas until they were ready for the oven.

Rose followed Sarah and Ann downstairs, opened the garden doors, and took one last look at the apartment. It looked great. She fluffed the cushions on the sofa and lit a scented candle to make it a bit cozier.

"You can put your sleeping bags over there," she said, "we have mattresses for sleeping tonight. We'll get them out when we've finished eating." 

"Perhaps we should shower before we eat," suggested Sarah after returning to the kitchen, "I'm all sweaty from walking up the hills."

"Yes, we should," Lea agreed, "but there are six of us, so that would take a while."

"We could shower in pairs," Sarah suggested, giving Rose a slightly rude look, "that would take half the time."

"And save some hot water so that even the last ones can shower," Ann added.

Tim and Kevin looked at each other. Showering together? They'd never done that before, and the idea made them blush.

"Um, well, cold water doesn't bother me," Kevin protested weakly, but the girls were relentless.

Sarah and Rose went to shower together, and the others went to the lounge, taking turns lying on the television and stretching out on the couch.

Sarah and Rose undressed and chatted away while they started the shower, grabbing some towels and showing off their beauty products that they thought they might need after showering. They stepped into the shower together, and Sarah took the initiative, pouring body wash onto her hands and washing Rose all the way back to her buttocks, just like they had done before.

When it was Rose's turn to wash Sarah's back, she would slide her hand between Sarah's cheeks and over her anus.

"Do you think Leah and Ann will touch me there tonight?" Sarah asked, almost hopefully, as she bent down to give Rose better access.

"Maybe," Rose replied. "I'm not sure if the boys will be here right now, but perhaps after they've gone to bed, the four of us could have some playtime like last time. Better to be prepared, don't you think?"

Sarah moaned softly as Rose moved her hand forward and touched the sensitive button, still hidden in her valley.

"I'm sure. I hope we'll have some time for this later," Rose whispered as she moved them. Other soap passes over Sarah's developing breasts and plays with the erect nipples.

"You two ready?" Ann interrupted, "and save that for later," she grinned mischievously. Seeing the two girls kissing, "it's Leah's turn and it's my turn now. And the boys need to shower too, so hurry up."

"Can't wait until those two brats have gone to bed," Sarah said rudely, stepping back in the shower to make room for Leah and Ann.

"Yes, it's a shame Tim and Kevin are staying," Rose said. "I mean, they're not bad or anything, but they're a bit in our way, to say the least."

"Or maybe they aren't," Leah said thoughtfully, as she let her hands wander over Ann's breasts, coating them with lather from the soap.

"What do you think?"

"Well, maybe we can heat her up a little, you know, boys will be boys, so some girl flesh will ignite something." She grinned devilishly and made Ann jump a little as she stroked her clitoris and wiggled the small, sensitive knob.

"Oh no," Rose said somewhat anxiously, "Mum said we should definitely stay away from the boys, you know, so they don't get pregnant."

"However, we can play with them without touching them," Sarah suggested.

"That's right," Leah added, "it could be fun, I mean, they're younger than us and the boys from our classes, and they're certainly less rowdy. It could be an 'educational' evening if you catch me drifting."

The girls agreed. The boys their own age were too eager to do it with them, and many of them were rednecks anyway, so they tried to keep their distance. Certainly not that they would touch them. Perhaps some of them enjoyed playing with these younger boys, after all.

"But how do we know if they like it?"

"Like I said, boys will be boys, so the flesh of a girl will certainly interest them. We'll just see what happens."

"But what if they touch us?" Ann asked worriedly.

"I'm sure they won't," Rose replied. "Mum said Dad gave them a serious lecture earlier, and knowing Dad, he threatened them with the devil or worse if they stepped out of line. Don't worry, and I'll remember the warning to make sure they're not forgotten."

"Let's get the boys ready for their shower," suggested Sarah, picking up two towels for Lea and Ann.

Ann was still worried, so Leah took her hand and looked into her eyes.

"We don't have to do anything if we don't want to," she said sincerely.

"Don't come after us, Ann," Sarah begged. "We've been saying for months that we'd do things with boys as soon as we had the chance. It's for sure!"

"I know," said Ann doubtfully, "but I just don't know, they're young. And besides, Tim is Rose's cousin!"

"I'm not going to touch Tim, so that won't be a problem," Rose said defensively. "I'm not going to touch either of them."

"We girls can have a lot of fun together, and the boys can have fun together too. I really want to know how they make their books."

Unaware of the conspiracy, the boys waited anxiously for their turn in the shower. They were surprised that the girls only went in pairs, even looking happy to do so, whereas they obviously had their doubts. They weren't used to being naked in front of each other, even though they had been friends since they were eight or nine years old.

"It's your turn," Leah said to the boys as the girls returned to the basement, adding playfully, as she saw the two of them hesitantly getting up, seemingly reluctant to take a shower together, "we've left just enough hot water, so you two will have to take a shower together."

"And don't forget: it's a sleepover. So make sure you're dressed for it. 'You'll be back,' Rose added, making the boys blush a little.

A weekend sleepover was fun, but a sleepover with girls made her a little queasy, not knowing what to expect.

Even though they'd been friends for years and had a few sleepovers, Tim had only seen Kevin naked once before, when they undressed for a swim, and that was two or three years ago. He was curious if Kevin had changed as much as he had. He must have, because his voice had dropped a bit, and he was now two inches taller. But Tim's prudish upbringing prevented him from looking at the balls of his cleavage as he lowered his body into his shorts, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs.

Just before he quickly looked away, he caught a glimpse of Kevin's penis with its dark bush. As he lowered his boxer shorts and turned away, Haaren followed Kevin's example. Naked, the boys stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

As Tim turned his back to him, Kevin gazed at his friend's naked body, his eyes following the curves of his back down to the two beautifully protruding buns. It was a beautiful bubble, but with a shock he realized he had never looked at Tim like that before. He had only ever looked at Tim once when he was naked, and certainly not this close.

Kevin tried to catch some of the water coming from the showerhead, but the stream was too small for both of them to fit under, and he shuffled a little closer to Tim, and suddenly he felt his penis touch Tim's buttock.

Tim noticed that the erection was touching his ass, and in a mixture of surprise, shock, even some excitement, he rolled away, turned around, and looked down.

"Man, really?" he said, sounding somewhat more annoyed and angry than usual. Kevin, his face flushed deep red, muttered '1incostorry' and turned around.

Tim was confused. His best friend had an erection while they were in the shower together! Just when he was relieved that he didn't have one, the image of the flesh, the obscene rising from the wet bush, made his penis stir.

"Ah, look, they're having fun!"

Shocked, Kevin and Tim looked up and saw the four girls peering into the bathroom from there. The door.

"Exit, aren't they boys?" Leah said teasingly, pointing at the two erections.

"Go away!" The boys shouted and quickly covered their tails with their hands.

"Ah, we want to watch, please?" Leah said teasingly, but before the boys could shout, 'No! Go!' The girls left giggling.

"That was quite a sight, don't you think?" Sarah said as they returned to the Rec room, "maybe we could play with them a little bit, what do you think if we made them wear the same pajamas as us?"

"Yes, that would be hilarious and sexy as hell," said Ann enthusiastically, "I have a spare dress; if we have another one, we can make her wear that!"

"Jeez, how long have they been standing there?" Tim asked worriedly.

"Dunno," Kevin said, "I hope they didn't notice," and he pointed shyly at his penis, still fully erect.

Tim swallowed. He looked at the large erection and saw Kevin checking him out, well.

"Sorry I'm being harsh," said Tim. "It's just that I'm not used to being naked with someone else."

"Same here. I've been getting these constantly lately, whether naked or not. But there's no need to be ashamed. Excuse me, we were friends, remember that, no reason to be embarrassed."

"I'll guess," Tim said tentatively.

"The water's getting colder now, come here, let's wash each other's backs and then get out, okay?"

Tim's heart skipped a beat. Kevin wanted to wash his back? While he had an erection? Even his mother hadn't washed him in about eight years. But when Kevin turned him around, he obeyed, and the soft, soapy hands on his back made him tremble, and the feeling of shame gave way to another sensation as he felt Kevin's hands come close to his buttocks.

"Your turns," Tim said suddenly, preventing Kevin from going any further into his back.

It felt wonderful as Kevin felt Tim's hands soaping his back and he bent over against the wall, secretly hoping that Tim would let his hands wander a little lower.

Tim heard the soft sigh that escaped Kevin's mouth as his hands reached the firm mounds of his friend's buttocks. He sensed that Kevin wouldn't protest if he touched him there, but he didn't dare. Instead, he moved his hands back up to his shoulder blades, and he bent in slightly to reach Kevin's shoulders. Was this gay, touching each other like that, completely naked and boned?

"Um..." He heard Kevin say and realized with a shock that while soaping Kevin's shoulders and neck, his erection had found its way into the crack of Kevin's buttocks.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Tim apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to..." and he stepped out of the shower, embarrassed.

"It's okay, man," Kevin said reassuringly, "this happens in a small shower."

Tim looked at his friend, afraid that he was angry, even though he said that it was okay, but he immediately saw in his eyes that he was not upset; on the contrary, he even thought he saw a faint, longing smile.

They carefully avoided further contact and dried themselves, brushed their teeth, deodorized and dressed in fresh underwear, Tim in pajamas and Kevin in his sleep trousers and t-shirt.

When the boys returned to the cellar, the girls wore their nightclothes: all wearing a long T-shirt or nightgown that covered the upper part of their legs down to their knees, and from the kitchen came the delicious smell of pizzas in the oven.

"Hey, what are you wearing?" Leah asked, surprised and playfully annoyed, pointing at the boys.

"Um, this is a slumber party, right?" Tim replied, confused.

"Yes, that's it, but it's a girl's sleepover," said Sarah, "and you're wearing boys' pajamas."

"So?" Kevin asked, sensing that there was more to it than just this statement.

"If you want to join us tonight, you have to be in the same dress as us," Rose added in a direct tone to make sure the boys knew immediately that there was no room for negotiation.

"Ah, come on," Tim pleaded, "we don't even have girls' clothes."

"But we have," Sarah and Ann jumped up and rummaged in their bags, each taking out a nightgown.

“We are ‘I will not wear that,’ Tim protested, looking to Kevin for support.

Kevin looked relieved as Ann handed him the dress, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized there was no way out unless they left the common room. Somewhere deep in his heart, he also felt a certain excitement he couldn't quite place: was he being awakened by the thought of wearing girls' clothes?

Tim noticed his friend's expression and sensed him surrendering to the girls' association. Did he even see the slightest hint of excitement in Kevin's face?

"Come on, boys," Leah urged them, "we don't have all evening. The pizza's almost ready. Or do you want to eat in the kitchen instead of here with us?"

Reluctantly, Tim unbuttoned his pajama top, while Kevin had gotten rid of his T-shirt and sleeping pants, and quickly pulled the dress over his head, leaving just a brief moment for the girls to see him wearing nothing but his blue boxer shorts. Tim felt ashamed as he finally stepped out of his pajama bottoms and struggled to get the dress over his head, giving the girls enough time to observe him in his tight blue and white striped briefs.

"You two look great," said Sarah somewhat teasingly, while the boys stood awkwardly in their robes.

It felt strange, but also a little bit exhilarating, and while Kevin secretly enjoyed the feeling, Tim did his best to rationalize his excitement: It was only because the girls had let them wear it, wasn't it?

“I think the pizzas are ready,” said Rose, and she stood up and made her way to the kitchen.

The others followed her to help carry the pizzas, sodas, and the rest of the food to the rec room. As soon as the food arrived, they dived in and ate and drank amidst talking and laughter, the television already switched on for the movie they wanted to watch.

Ann and Leah told how they had met and become friends despite being a year apart in age, and Sarah wanted to know all about Tim and Kevin's long-standing friendship.

Rose and Tim told some funny stories about growing up as cousins.

Considering this, the boys initially felt a little awkward in girls' clothes; the ice was certainly broken as they talked and laughed and got to know each other better. When they had finished their pizzas, everyone pitched in to clean up the common room and the kitchen.

When they returned, they made themselves comfortable on the chairs and the two sofas, leaned lazily into the cushions, and placed a tray full of snacks and drinks on the table.

"They're broadcasting 'Moonlight Love' again tonight," said Rose as she switched to another station, "it's so romantic!"

The boys groaned softly. Such a romantic film wasn't exactly their cup of tea, but outnumbered, they knew they had to accept it or go into the living room to watch something else. They felt strangely left out and, already used to wearing girls' clothes, they simply accepted the choice for the evening.

While the girls were engrossed in the film, the boys spent more time watching the girls watching television. It was a rare opportunity for them to be in their pajamas with girls who sprawled shamelessly on the couch and the lazy armchairs, their breasts pushing their thin dresses up a little.

Tim glanced sideways at Kevin and noticed a bulge under his dress; obviously his penis was fighting against the confinement of his boxer shorts.

The film was interrupted by a commercial break, just as one of the main actors was undressing to take a bath, revealing her beautiful body covered only with luxurious lingerie.

According to the disappointed protesters against the girls, the girls were clearly in the film during a commercial break, but obviously the marketers knew their audience because a large portion of the commercials showed luxury soaps and lingerie. This immediately captured the attention of the four girls.

"I had... I want these," sighed Rose, as a young lady decorated some chic shoelaces on panties.

"I have almost the same outfit," said Ann, "look," and she pulled up her dress to show her pinkish-red panties.

"They're neat," said Leah, "mine are a little smaller, but they're laced too," and she lifted her dress to show what she was wearing.

The boys sat cushioned and watched the girls, who were shamelessly displaying their underwear. Tim noticed that Kevin's erection was noticeably larger than it had been a minute ago, and he felt a stirring of excitement in his own briefs.

It was a new sensation. Kevin had never paid much attention to girls' panties before. He'd seen his 12-year-old sister in panties a couple of times, but they were just basic. Back then, he hadn't thought anything of it. They were just a cute little thing when she was younger. Now it was different: these girls were older, more mature, and the fact that he was wearing a dress, just like they had, made him feel strangely, aroused.

"What about you guys?" asked Leah, still stretched out on the couch with her robe pulled up.

Continue reading..

Information Mom and brother caught
Posted by: Simon - 11-24-2025, 09:08 PM - No Replies

I was sitting in math class with a semi-erect penis. As a 14-year-old, even the slightest glimpse of panties can give you a hard-on, and I swear I saw a pair of Sandy's earlier, who's in my math class.

The thought of what was under those pink panties made me daydream.

Is it hairless?

Does she have blonde hair, like her head? Is it swollen? Are her inner labia protruding?

I'm sure I'll never find out, but I can imagine it.

Since math was the second-to-last hour of the day, I decided to skip history and go home, go into my "special" folder on my laptop and spank myself like crazy. 

The only question is, whose ass do I want to spank? I have porn with people who look like Mom, like Dee Williams, who really turn me on, but I also have some goth girls who I like too.

I ducked and jumped on my bike to ride home. When I rode into the garage, I was annoyed to see Mom's car there. That meant she was home.
And since the laptops were in the living room, my stand would remain unsatisfied.

As I went into the kitchen, I heard it. "Oh yeah, Dave... fuck me," my mom moaned. "Dave? My brother?" I thought. "Sure, he's fucking Mom!"

When I peeked into the living room, I saw it. Mom was on the couch, her dress pulled up to reveal her hairy pussy, and then pulled down to show her magnificent tits. Her tits bounced up and down as my 16-year-old brother penetrated her pussy from behind. When I saw my mother having sex, my little penis awoke to climax and I started rubbing it.

Mom and my brother were too engrossed in their hot, incestuous sex to see me. Mom's dirty talk really turned me on. "Yes, Dave. Fuck the pussy you came out of." I didn't know anything about sex, but I knew boys shouldn't fuck their own mothers, but this was so hot I couldn't look away.

I pulled down my school shorts and underwear as my little thorn sprang up and down. I reached down, closed my fist around it, and started to masturbate.

I watched as he tugged on my small penis when Dave looked up and saw me. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I thought, and as I was about to run, he waved me forward. At that point, my cock was the only thing guiding me, and it was rock hard.

As I got closer to Mom, she opened her eyes and saw me. I really thought she was going to freak out, but she pulled me right up close and took my hairless cock in her mouth. I was glad I'd shaved all my hair off, because Mom took my whole cock in her mouth. I was in seventh heaven—getting Mom to give me head while my brother fucked her. She did things with her tongue I'd never experienced before, and soon I could feel my balls tightening.

I spat my watery load into Mom's mouth, who swallowed it all, and my brother spat into her pussy. We sat down to recover. My brother and I were both stark naked, and Mom had tied her dress around her waist, her beautiful tits swinging. I grabbed a handful of breast meat dangling in front of me and just played with it. It was the first time I'd touched a breast since I'd stopped breastfeeding, and they felt so good. Mom's nipples were hard, and soon mine and my brother's cock were too.

Mom asked if I had ever had sex with anyone, and I honestly said, "No, I masturbate all the time." Mom told me that was about to change, and led the three of us into the bedroom, where she lay on her hands and knees on the bed and completely undressed.

She turned around and asked if I would fuck her, and I was on the bed like lightning. My cock was hard as steel as I slowly slid it into Mom's pussy. Dave came over and offered Mom his cock to suck. She took it all the way to the base while I thrust from behind, her big tits swinging in time with my thrusts.

The feeling of finally fucking a pussy was indescribable – it was a million times better than using my hand, and it felt so good. My penis was clamped on all sides. Added to that was the taboo of actually fucking my mother, so it wasn't long before I shot my second load into the pussy I'd come in 14 years earlier.

As I pulled my empty, wet cock out of Mom's pussy, Dave came over, put it in his mouth, and started sucking. I'd heard of gay sex, but never thought I'd ever have it, let alone with my big brother. As he sucked the taste of Mom's pussy off my hot cock, I got hard again, and it wasn't long before I had a dry orgasm. As I pulled my now limp penis out of my brother's mouth, I knew that nothing in our house would ever be the same again.

Continue reading..

Information I never asked for it
Posted by: Simon - 11-24-2025, 09:06 PM - No Replies

I never asked for what has happened to me in the last few days; but maybe I should have?

I grew up in a strict household. From Monday to Friday, I went to school, while Mom did her "duties" as a housewife and Dad was the branch manager of our local bank. I came home from school and then had to sit in my room until my homework was finished. Mom prepared dinner until Dad came home.

Then Dad poured his usual Scotch, and then we ate as a family. Wednesdays and Sundays were reserved for church. Dad was working to replace the current pastor, so most of his free time was taken up with that and not with his son.

Mom wasn't exactly a saint herself. Her day mostly consisted of getting up, having a glass of her "special grape juice," making sure I was dressed to her satisfaction, pouring herself another, watching Good Morning America, pouring herself another, taking a nap, having another glass, cleaning up after dinner, and having the last glass before Dad came home. As you can see, the local liquor store could thank my family for the monthly rent.

I always wanted to see myself as a typical only child. Not quite "normal," but for the most part, I had everything under control. I had good grades, I had already chosen a college, I had a summer job at the local diner,
which allowed me a little freedom outside the house; when I was allowed to go out.

I never had a girlfriend or any boyfriend at all in high school.

I always considered myself a loner, or a loner, which always sounded cooler. My father called me "some kind of wimp" or "one of those girly-boys." He told me, "Get yourself a girlfriend before the boys start calling you gay."

Which brings us to our next dilemma: I think I'm gay. Well, maybe not entirely, but I do like some girls, or at least I think I do. This battle has been raging in my head for as long as I can remember. I saw some boys at school and couldn't help but imagine what their penises would look like under the red sports shorts we had to wear.

Then I saw some girls from my school days and really wanted to see their breasts. They were sitting in front of me in class, their thongs barely visible above their low-cut jeans. I got butterflies in my stomach and started imagining the bodies beneath those jeans.

This tug-of-war continues to this day.

The beginning of those three days was like any other. I showered, ate a small breakfast, and then went back to my room to start packing for college. Mom was already on her second glass of grape juice when I came downstairs with a packed box full of knick-knacks to decorate my dorm.

"How far along are you?" asked Mom, who was sitting on the sofa in front of the television. Her voice wasn't completely indistinct yet, but her words seemed to be getting denser.

I placed the box next to the front door. "Most small things are..."

She interrupted me. “We told you to have everything packed by tonight. If you'd maybe stop playing video games, you'd already be done. Your father and I have worked hard to teach you what it means to be an adult, and you still don't seem to get it.”

Come on, pack your stuff and don't leave your room until you're finished." 

I want to say that her reaction surprised me, but to be honest, I wasn't. Mom usually has a certain sharpness to her palate that doesn't soften, but only gets sharper the more she drinks.

“Yes, Mom,” I said, turning away from the box I had just sat down on and going back to my room.

I closed the door behind me. My room was empty, like a prison cell, except for the boxes my father had brought home from work, containing all the things that had ever meant anything to me. My bed was still a single bed, covered with the quilt my grandmother had made for me when I was only seven.

I sat down on the blanket, not angry about the interaction with my mother, but rather indifferent. These interactions with my parents were normal, so the feelings of having let them down faded around the same time I got the blanket I was now sitting on. The only thing that ever got me through my parents' mental Olympics, or at least lessened them, was touching myself. Usually, I'd open something on my computer, jerk off, and then realize with absolute clarity that the Olympics could start up again at any moment. The five minutes it took me to get my penis out and ejaculate were my only escape from what my life had ultimately become.

The lock on my door was removed a few years ago. My parents weren't stupid; they knew I was getting to the age where Hot Wheels and action figures were being replaced by the toys I'd been given at birth. My ears were attuned to footsteps in the hallway, and that was always my protection against someone coming in and seeing something they might not want to see. Today was no different, or so I thought.

I went through my usual routine to prepare for a successful masturbation session. I dropped my pants and underwear and laid them next to me on the bed, in case I needed to get dressed quickly afterward. I lay down on my blanket, closed my eyes, and fantasized about every kind of porn that came to mind. (I was getting damn good at it.) I put my hand around my still-limp penis and started moving it to make it hard.

In my fantasy, I was walking down a cobblestone street in ancient Rome. The smell of bread and excrement felt as real as the stone buildings lining the street. People were going about their daily business when a young, olive-skinned Roman man approached me. His tunic only partially covered his long penis. I looked at him, then back up at him.

I briefly opened my eyes, looked away from Rome, and examined my penis, which had reached its final hardness of 15.5 cm. I closed my eyes again.

The young Roman and I were now inside his small stone house. He pulled his tunic over his shoulders and then let it fall to the floor to show me the complete package he was working with. He gestured for me to turn around and then said something in what he thought was Latin. I did as he said and placed my hands on the sturdy wooden table that adorned his small palace. He wasted no time and mounted me from behind. I opened my eyes and looked down at my throbbing penis. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and I greedily licked it up with my free hand. I pushed my finger deeper into my mouth and then took a second to moisten both. I placed the two wet fingers between my legs and began to move them around my entrance, coating it with my saliva. I pressed my index finger against it, letting it slide inside me, and then added a second, so that both of them penetrated me up to the second knuckle.

A worker's rough hand gripped my hip as he thrust himself inside me. The coarse stubble on his cheeks scratched against mine as he pressed his face against mine from behind. His cock jiggled deep inside me as he slowly picked up speed, growing more and more greedy as he thrust in and out.

"What do we have here?"

I opened my eyes wide. I saw my mother standing in the doorway to my room, holding onto the doorframe. She held her wine glass still, a smile flitting across her face. I pulled my fingers out of my bottom and crawled under my covers. She pushed herself off the doorframe and came towards me, her smile never fading.

"Did I just walk in and catch my son fingering his ass?" said Mom as she approached the foot of my bed.

"Mom, I swear, I can..."

"Can you do something? Explain why you were fiddling with your ass while you were wildly hitting your little penis? I think you can just explain that to your father when he gets home," she said, turning away from me.

“But Mom! Please!” I begged.

"We have nothing more to discuss, Michael. You simply have to answer to your father, and don't even think about leaving your room. And for God's sake, try to keep your dirty hands out of your ass," she said, closing the door behind her. That sealed my fate.

I gathered my clothes, which were now scattered under my duvet, and put them on. My heart was racing in my chest like a pair of shoes in a dryer. I paced my sparsely furnished room, trying to imagine what my father would say to me. Would he simply throw me out of the house? Would he just write me off? Beat me badly? I didn't know what reality to prepare myself for, even though I knew there was nothing I could do.

"Michael! Get your ass down here!", my mother shouted from the foot of the stairs.

I was lying on my bed when I got the call. My nerves didn't calm down at all. I was more tense than a rope holding a boat back from the dock. I resigned myself to my fate and dragged myself to the door.

I went into the dining room where my father was sitting at the table. He was twirling his whisky glass under one finger, his eyes never leaving it. Mom was standing at the counter that separated the dining room from the kitchen. She had replaced her Yeti mug with a proper wine glass, which was so full that it almost overflowed when she rocked it back and forth.

"Sit down, Mike," said Dad, still in a trance with his glass.

I sat down at the other end of the table and kept as far away from him as possible, betting that he would hit me. I kept my hands clasped under the table.

"Your mother told me she barged in somewhere this afternoon." He took a large gulp from his glass. "Something that was... a little... unappetizing, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Yes, Father."

"And you weren't just masturbating, were you?"

"No, Father."

“I want you to tell me what you did,” he said, letting go of his glass, then leaning back in his chair and putting one arm over the back.

“I … I …”

"You have …"

“I fingered myself,” I said with a new kind of shame, like a child whose hand is trapped in the cookie tin.

“Oh… you fingered yourself. Now tell me, what were you thinking when you committed this despicable act?” His expression remained unbroken and serious.

"I... I," I gargled the words like murmurs. "I was thinking of a man..."

"A man? And what did this man do?"

“He… he loved me… from behind,” I said, avoiding my father.

"Interesting. I should have always known you were some kind of fairy godmother, Michael." He drummed his fingers on the table for a while. "But luckily for you, your mother and I have a plan that will hopefully keep you from going down the path you've chosen."

I heard my mother put her glass down on the granite counter. I turned to look at her as she stepped into the space between the table where I was sitting and the counter where she was standing. She was wearing the typical black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. She paused for a moment to look at me, then reached for the hem of her shirt. She lifted it, exposing first her midriff and then the underside of her breasts. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head and dropped to the floor. She swept her hair from one shoulder to the other and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her leggings. With a swift movement, she pulled them down and stepped out. Kicking them aside with one foot, she straightened up, looking at me. My gaze traveled down her figure, from her feet to her sparkling, half-glazed eyes. Her body was that of a clear-headed drunk who got most of her daily calories from fermented grapes. Her breasts hung so low that her broad, dark nipples pointed almost directly at the floor, and she had a round belly that didn't sag but jutted out like a sweet bulge. Her pussy was hidden behind a veil of chestnut-brown pubic hair that hadn't seen a razor in months but hadn't yet shown any gray. This brought a strange thought to me at that moment: Had my mother dyed her bush? She stood there looking at me silently, her knees bent, as if imitating a Betty Boop version. "Mike, you're going to spoil your mother the way she likes it." I thought my eyes couldn't open any wider while I looked at my naked mother, but when I heard my father's words, I thought they could. I looked over at him, who was still sitting in his chair, his arms casually draped over the back. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked. "You understood me. You will spoil your mother. I want to teach you that you no longer need to think about men."

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked toward the spring and saw that Mom was now standing beside me. Her right breast was only inches from my face when I looked up to meet her eyes. She leaned forward to kiss me on the lips, which I returned with surprised delight. As her embalmed lips touched mine, a rush of alcoholic scent wafted toward me, followed by the scent of her purple-tinged tongue. I could taste the wine as her tongue danced with mine. Her hand traversed my chest before moving south toward my penis, which was slowly approaching the rock. She placed her hand on my penis, and I reached up to cup her sagging breast. Her hard nipple landed in the middle of my palm, and I was immediately surprised by the weight of my mother's breast in my hand. I began to knead it, like a baker kneading dough. I gently pinched her nipple, to which she responded with a moan into my mouth, her wine-red breath flowing down my throat. She broke our kiss and then sat up straight again.

"Take your clothes off, now!" she demanded.

At that request, my throat tightened. Somehow I knew that would happen as soon as she kissed me, but I couldn't prepare myself for it.

“Do what she says, Mike,” said Dad, who no longer leaned back in his chair but bent forward over the table to have the best possible view.

I stood up and pushed my chair under the table. My mother took two steps back, giving me the seat where she had undressed moments before. I looked back at my father, who still looked at me with the face of a policeman about to drag me out of a car. I grabbed my shirt at the back and pulled it off with a quick tug. I unbuttoned my jeans, and they fell into a pile beneath me. I stood there in my boxer shorts, staring at my mother, who had both hands on her hips and was trying to look as impatient as possible. I grabbed the sides of my boxer shorts and let them lie on the floor with my trousers. I pushed them aside with my right foot and stood completely naked in front of my mother.

"He's definitely not your size, honey," she said, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. She grabbed my shoulder and turned me around so I was facing my father.

"I didn't think he could be a bigger disappointment, but I guess I was wrong." He shook his head.

My cheeks burned like fire as my parents yelled at me. I tried to hide my package from them before my mother turned me back to her.

"I know this thing isn't going to be fun for me. You just need to eat something, boy," she said before she woke up around me.

She sat on the chair where I was sitting, her bare buttocks squeaking as she leaned against the wooden back. I saw her stomach scrunch up as she sat down to get comfortable. She spread her legs wide, snapped her fingers, and pointed at her feet. I looked over at Dad, hoping he'd finally say it was all a joke. Instead, he didn't offer me any comfort, just took small sips from his whiskey glass. I resigned myself to my fate. I slowly shuffled in front of my mother. She had slid her bottom down so far it was almost falling off. She snapped her fingers again. "Knee." I nodded, then knelt down until I was at eye level with my mother's pussy. My knees ached as they hit the hard wooden floor. She used her hand to pull her pussy up, scrunching the folds together, then opening them again. I still couldn't see much behind all that unkempt hair, but I caught a glimpse of what looked like chewed gum. She spread her lips with two fingers, and that's when I got a full view of what I was supposed to be doing. "Lick it," she said, staring down at me over the folded skin of her waist. I started to move my face closer to her open pussy, trying to take in the whole sight. The next thing I noticed was the smell coming from her open cleft. It was a mixture of piss and yesterday's sweat that hadn't been washed off in the shower. The smell wasn't awful, not great, just how I'd imagined a pussy would smell. When my lips finally reached her hairy mound, I started aimlessly running my tongue between her labia. The already wet pussy left a moist film on my tongue, which, I thought, didn't taste half bad either.

"That probably won't be the last time that happens, honey," my mother said. "He still has a lot to learn if he's ever going to be able to satisfy a woman."

"He has plenty of time before college. He'll learn it," said Dad, and even his words began to blur together.

"Stop just licking me, Mike. Lick my damn clit."

I stopped my aimless tongue dance between her lips and then looked at her in confusion.

"The clitoris... lick my clitoris."

She must have noticed that I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Lord, no wonder you're gay."

She spread her pussy wide with both hands and pointed with the other to a small bump at the very top of her opening.

"There, play with it," she said, running her finger over her clitoris.

I did as she asked and plunged my tongue back into my hairy pussy. The tip of my tongue touched her semi-hard clit, and I knew I'd hit the right spot because her hips began to shift on the chair, squeaking against the leather, and her breathing deepened. She moaned softly as I rubbed her clit, making gentle circles, and then took it into my mouth with soft sucking motions. I looked at her for a moment, and she had her two long, dark nipples between her fingers, pinching and rolling them. Her head was thrown back, and she moaned as I continued licking.

"Yes, yes, that's the spot. Lick Mommy's clit. Lick it, you little damn faggot," she said through gritted teeth.

I did as she said. I pressed my tongue firmly against her hardening nub and rolled it up and down. I used both hands to spread her folds, so I could see the rest of her pink flesh completely exposed. I tickled her clit a few more times, then ran my tongue along her slit, pausing at her clit before forcing it inside and moving it back and forth in her hot, deep opening.

“Oh, FUCK! Fuck yeah, fuck yeah.” Her hips jerked wildly and pressed her wet pussy into my face.

"Exactly. Make Mom come."

Her words made me work even harder. I wanted her to squirt on my face. I increased my pace, wildly slicing my tongue up and down her pussy. Her legs began to tremble and vibrate as she came. A torrent of fluid gushed from her pussy, splashing into my face, then running down my chin and over my exposed, naked body. She was still breathing heavily, her whole body shaking as she came down from her climax. A pool of her fluid lay beneath me as I knelt in it. I looked up at her face as she finally opened her eyes.

“Wow, Mike, I’m impressed,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

I simply smiled at her from my kneeling position.

"Get up," Dad said from behind me.

I stood up. I looked down and saw that the warm liquid was still running down my torso. I turned around and saw my father standing there, naked and pulling on his large penis. Mom stood up behind me and stumbled over to her wine glass, which was on the counter. She looked like she was walking on stilts, her legs were shaking so much. I turned back to Dad, who was coming over to me. He took my mother's place on the soaking wet chair.

"Kneel down again."

“Yes, Father,” I replied, kneeling in the cooling puddle of Mother’s fluid.

He was still stroking his penis as he sat in the chair. His penis was breathtaking. I had always tried to imagine what a real penis would look like, and now I did. It was a man's cock, hard, I estimated it to be almost 20 centimeters long, and his testicles hung over the edge of the chair from their own weight.

"Now it's my turn," he said, letting go of his tail and handing it over to me.

I wrapped my hand around it, absorbing its warmth and marveling at its smooth skin. Slowly, I began to pump it up and down. He didn't move, just looked down at me. I made eye contact with him as I worked his massive member. The only movement was his chest pumping air into his lungs. I gradually increased my pace, then took his testicles in my hand and knelt there as I stroked him.

"Taste it now. Taste what a real penis tastes like."

I looked at him for a moment, letting his steely eyes peer through mine, then I took my father's penis into my mouth. I gently sucked on his shaft, slowly sliding my mouth down the length of it, licking as I went deeper. I felt the tip press against my tonsils, and they gripped me, preventing me from gagging on my father's throbbing cock. I pulled it out, then forced it back in, repeating until a good amount of saliva oozed between my lips. I paused only to sip the wet juice, then pushed it back in and continued sucking my father. "That's it. I knew you were a little cock-slut," he said, grabbing a strand of hair and guiding my head so that my mouth became his fuck toy. I gasped as he forced his cock down my throat, blocking my airway. Then he pulled me away, just to see what he turned his son into. My eyes burned from gagging, and saliva flowed like a river down my chest. I swallowed and gagged, my chest rising and falling, and I could only rest for a moment before he shoved his cock back in and then continued fucking my face. He thrust in only a few more times before I felt his cock swell and inflate like a balloon. He tugged on my hair again, pulled his wet cock out, and held my face just inches from its tip. White semen spurted wildly from his cleft, spraying all over my face and down my lips. I could faintly taste the salty fluid as I tried to clean my lips. He painted my face and then leaned back in the chair, his breathing never quickening despite his gentle rising and falling.

"Well, now you really do look like a little softie," he said, grabbed the whisky glass from the table and drank the rest in one go.

I stood in front of him and ran my hand over my face to wipe away the semen that covered it.

"Don't even think about wiping the semen off your face," he said, putting his glass back on the table.

I looked down at him through the streams of his sperm, and then at my mother, who was still standing naked next to the counter.

"Yes, sir." I went to my pile of clothes.

"Leave them there. You won't need them tonight," he said.

“Yes, sir.” I stood there, covered in semen and female ejaculate, shivering, as the air conditioning switched on and cooled the fluids on my naked body.

Mom giggled to herself as she poured herself another glass of wine. Dad stood up from his chair and went to his neatly folded suit, the one he'd been wearing when I came out of my room. He started to dress as I walked past him toward the stairs to my room. "And Mike," he said, pulling on his white shirt. I turned to him. "Hopefully, the semen will be all over your face when you come down for breakfast tomorrow."

I nodded. "Of course, Father."

Continue reading..

  Lost in lust
Posted by: Simon - 11-24-2025, 09:03 PM - Replies (1)

Part 1

Prolog

She lived with her excess weight long before she experienced anything else… a permanent tooth, crushes, pimples, pubic hair, budding nipples, her period, masturbation to climax, French kissing, orgasm with someone else, handjobs, blowjobs, cunnilingus, fucking, a lesbian affair, a threesome, an orgy, marriage, a gangbang, divorce, or anything else noteworthy. Although she was always confident in her sexiness, like most people, she tried everything while her weight fluctuated and eventually crept back up.

Almost always.

She couldn't even remember what had motivated her to make one last desperate attempt in a place that made such outlandish promises of success, even though she didn't really believe in them herself. She vaguely remembered it had something to do with her stomach getting in the way of insertion, but she couldn't recall exactly whether it was a man's penis being too short, another woman with a strap-on, or even one of those dominant types who insisted that their hand and wrist were the perfect substitute for their flaccid penis.

The combination of alcohol and drugs clouded her thinking and, in her twisted mind, allowed her to do things that horrified and humiliated her when she was sober again. Then she did them again anyway.

So she sat slumped in an uncomfortable folding chair, only half-listening to Gary as he explained his unique program. She estimated she might last two weeks, three if he was willing to share the obviously above-average-looking penis that pressed against his sweatpants. She wasn't particularly interested in most forms of physical activity, but she was always perfectly happy to sweat through even the most mediocre fuck or pussy-licking.

It turned out that Gary captivated her with his enthusiasm, charisma, and above all, his talented use of his penis, fingers, and tongue. A few months later, they were living and working together. Both strictly adhered to the self-imposed minimum of three orgasms a day, whether alone or together. This was the most enjoyable of the strenuous physical activities that Gary's weight-loss program at her spa required, and in which she specialized. She had helped her lose over 50 kilos and keep it off.

Although by no means slim or thin, she was proud that her revitalized, Rubenesque body remained strong yet soft in all the places Gary liked, attracting both men and women. It helped that they enthusiastically encouraged each other to accept every one of the many offers from men and women, whether alone or together. The only condition was that such activities didn't involve anything that would still be sore the next morning or leave visible marks on casual clothes after two days. She even seriously researched the pros and cons of pregnancy for a 47-year-old woman and was strongly inclined to try it despite the many warnings and dangers of pregnancy at her age.

Then he was gone, killed instantly by a drunk driver who didn't even stop after running a red light and hitting Gary and his motorcycle. Her last, and one of her last, ovulation periods began two days later, exactly as planned, after she stopped taking the birth control pill.

••••• 

Lori looked up as the rather nervous, studious-looking, and obviously overweight and out-of-shape guy shyly approached the reception desk she happened to be temporarily manning. The latest skinny blonde with the big tits and perpetually hard nipples, whom she always hired for that position, was having a late lunch.

She continued running the gym and spa after Gary's death almost a year ago and was honestly surprised by how successful she had become—another first on an ever-shrinking list of milestones, the achievement of which mattered less and less to her. Frankly, she was pretty sure that the days of climbing those mountains, shattering those glass ceilings, and experiencing yet more firsts were behind her, and she had fully accepted that.

"Can I help you?" she asked, putting on a radiant smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

“I was hoping to get some information about this facility,” the chubby guy stammered uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on her stiff, silver-ringed nipples, which pierced through the deliberately too-small halter top and the tight, figure-hugging shorts that emphasized rather than concealed the clothing of all the female employees.

“Of course, all the facilities, classes, personal training options, costs, etc., are listed in our brochure,” Lori replied, pleased that her stiff, thumb-tip-sized nipples still held his attention as his gaze returned to her chest, even though her breasts were noticeably losing their eternal battle against gravity. “What’s more, the first week is free, including an hour with a personal trainer who will help you create a plan tailored to your individual goals and needs.”

In the next few moments, he studied the brochure carefully, his gaze repeatedly lingering on her and her hard nipples. She simply continued to smile, because the income from a new membership was more than worth enduring a little staring now and then. Besides, she enjoyed the attention and the control over others that came with it.

While she waited, the blonde chick with the much larger breasts and even more prominent nipples returned from lunch. His jaw dropped when he saw how her much larger nipples proudly pierced her halter top and how her tight shorts rode up to the crease of her pubic area.

“By the way, I’m Lori, and now that Nikki is back, I’d be happy to show you around for five cents,” she smiled at him, thinking that she might have to give the busty blonde a small raise so that she wouldn’t suddenly leave after seeing firsthand the effect she had on the male customers.

“I… I am… Oren,” he stammered, his gaze quickly shifting back and forth between their breasts.

"Nice to meet you," she replied cheerfully, leading him away from the entrance. Nikki's grin told Lori that the young blonde was relieved to no longer be stared at so brazenly.

"So, Oren, what do you want to achieve here?" Lori asked kindly as they walked past the countless training machines, neatly sorted by type in the large, open area.

She only asked to get him talking. Lori recognized from the first moment that he was a guy in his early to mid-thirties with a growing belly who hadn't done any exercise in years, except for pacing back and forth between the couch and the refrigerator. She doubted he could even last ten minutes on the treadmill at half speed.

On the other hand, compared to her situation and state when she walked through the door, he was a veritable Adonis. With the right encouragement and incentives, he might even be a real catch. Besides, she'd only had one orgasm that day and, strangely enough, felt attracted to his nerdy nature. At the very least, his mere presence had given her some masturbation material for the next few days, during which she could imagine his naked body and all the various, decidedly perverse ways of enjoying it.

“I… I was… playing ball with my son… and realized how… out of shape… I’ve become,” he stammered, still glancing at her erect nipples as he walked.

"With a little time and effort on your part, we can certainly help you with that," Lori smiled, noting that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. "How old is your son?"

“He just turned eleven,” Oren replied, looking at the various training equipment.

“As you can see, we have the latest equipment,” Lori continued. The tingling deep inside her made her nipples harden again, pressing even harder against her top. This fueled her masturbation fantasy, in which she imagined a naked father and his hairless teenage son masturbating together. “The weight room is to the right, and classes are held in the glass-walled rooms. The monthly schedule is posted on the bulletin board and, of course, online.”

"The brochure mentioned a swimming pool," said Oren as she stopped talking.

“Oh yes. It’s 25 meters long and runs along this corridor, past the men’s and women’s changing rooms,” she explained to him, a disturbing image of him and his protruding belly in swim trunks flashing through her mind. “You can take a look at the men’s area through the door. Just walk past the showers and out there, and I’ll meet you by the pool and hot tub.”

Lori walked along the edge of the whirlpool for only a minute or two before Oren came out of the men's changing room.

"I think I'll give it a try," he said quietly. "I really like the facilities."

"Then this way," Lori smiled brightly and pointed back towards the reception. "Let's get the paperwork done."

Over the next month, Lori noticed that Oren regularly came by three to four times a week, shortly after lunch. On his first full day, he diligently completed the one-hour workout on the various machines that she had recommended, swam his laps in the pool, and relaxed for 15 to 20 minutes in the hot tub before showering and going home when his son returned from school around 3:30 p.m.

She felt increasingly attracted to the awkward, studious type.

•••••

“I must admit, I’m a little nervous about meeting your son,” Lori said to him as they approached Oren’s apartment door about a month after his first contact with Lori at the spa.

"Don't be silly," Oren giggled, opening the door and then stepping back to let her enter in front of him. "I'm sure he'll love you."

Lori wasn't nearly as confident as she took a deep breath and followed Oren further into the apartment. Their relationship had developed quickly, a whirlwind she wasn't entirely comfortable with, before she met his eleven-year-old son…

… “Do you have a moment?” Oren asked while running on the treadmill, as Lori walked by about a week after his first visit.

“Sure,” she replied, stopping to look at him as he switched off the device and got out. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a few questions about the other programs offered here,” he replied, his gaze returning to Lori’s hard nipples, which were clearly visible beneath her tight halter top.

"Other Programs?"

“Yes, especially the weight loss program,” he continued quietly, almost apologetically. “I heard something in the changing room that piqued my interest, since nothing else I’ve tried so far seems to work.”

"So, what about this?" Lori asked, wondering how much Oren had heard from other members.

“How does it work? Am I qualified to participate? Things like that,” he said.

“Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this in private,” Lori murmured. The bulge in his pants told her much of what he had undoubtedly heard about the proprietary program. “My office?”

A few minutes later, they were sitting opposite each other in two comfortable armchairs. Lori could see that the bulge in his pants hadn't diminished in the slightest. When she told him about the strenuous exercises and the strictly controlled diet of the weight-loss program, she avoided the topic of masturbation, as she didn't know how to broach the subject.

"There's one thing... I'm not sure... I heard right... about the program," Oren stammered sheepishly after finishing her description. "I wasn't sure, but I thought... um... one of the guys... um... mentioned... uh... it was about... um... masturbation... and lots of masturbation."

“Yes, regular masturbation is an integral part of the program, as the released endorphins alleviate the discomfort of dieting and strenuous exercise,” Lori replied stiffly, feeling a sharp pain deep in her vagina. She wondered how far this conversation would go. “A little built-in reward for doing what’s necessary to be successful. How often… um… do you masturbate or otherwise reach orgasm… now?”

Oren hesitated and squirmed embarrassed by such an intimate question from someone he barely knew. Lori found his discomfort touching.

“Don’t be ashamed. If you participate in this special program, you’ll find that you’ll be sharing many such personal details with me, your personal advisor and trainer,” Lori continued, absentmindedly pulling the silver ring in her right nipple through her halter top. “I’m guessing you’re currently only masturbating once or twice a week and haven’t been with another partner for quite some time.”

“Yes… that’s about right…”, he quietly admitted, his face turning red.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to masturbation. We all do it from puberty onwards and continue into adulthood. I certainly did it in both of my marriages and many other relationships,” she smiled warmly at him. Her nipples were so hard they pierced her halter top, outlining the rings that pushed them into the thin fabric. “For example, I’m in the maintenance phase after losing about 110 pounds over the past few years. At the height of my weight loss program, I was masturbating at least six times a day, in addition to other physical activities. Now I only need to orgasm twice a day, but usually more often because, frankly, I enjoy it so much.”

"Wow, that's a lot," he gasped, his gaze remaining fixed on her erect nipples. "I don't think I've ever done it that often, even as a young teenager."

“Well, different orgasms, so to speak,” Lori laughed, placing her free hand on her right thigh, about two centimeters from her throbbing pussy. “Of course, you have to work your way up to six or more orgasms a day. I always recommend starting with three… once in the morning, once in the late afternoon, and once before bed. Part of the program is keeping a journal where you note the time of each orgasm and your thoughts at the climax.”

Oren simply stared at her for a moment, unconsciously running his hand over the growing erection in his sweatpants. She could see the hesitancy in his face, so she slipped her hand under her halter top, allowing him to see her fingers pull the ring in her left nipple through the fabric.

"If you decide to join the program, I will be your personal trainer until you achieve your goals," she told him, as she pulled the ring in her left nipple tighter and faster.

"When... when could I... start?" he asked, just before she noticed a small wet spot on the front of his shorts.

"How about right now?" she grinned, pulling up her halter top to expose her breasts and lifting her hips to pull her shorts down to her ankles. "I haven't had my midday orgasm yet, and we can... ahem... encourage each other."

Then Lori spread her legs wide and began fingering her dripping pussy. Oren simply stared at her for a moment before a smile spread across his face. As he pulled off his shorts and jockstrap, his swollen penis sprang out, and a drop of precum oozed from the tip. He wrapped his right hand around the throbbing shaft and began to stroke himself, slowly at first, then faster and faster, watching Lori begin to press herself against his fingers.

"Very nice," she gasped, her breathing becoming increasingly irregular and her fingers making louder, smacking noises inside her wet pussy. "Now hurry up and come! I'm so close and I'd love to come while I watch your sperm spurt from your beautiful cock."

A few moments later, Oren grunted and closed his eyes as his semen sprayed onto his stomach and chest, all the way up to his nipples. Lori moaned softly as she watched his semen spurt from his penis, while her own orgasm coursed through her body, her juices soaking the chair cushion. When they were finished, they both sat in silence for a few minutes, Oren following her example by pulling her shorts back on and her halter top up over her breasts.

"I'll give you the nutrition tips before you leave today, and tomorrow we can start the training program. That'll take about an hour. Come early enough so you have half an hour at the end of the session to jerk off with me," she grinned at him before they left her office. "Don't forget to jerk off twice more today and at least once tomorrow morning, and write everything down."

A few minutes later, she watched him leave the building, her pussy still tingling, wondering how long it would be before she felt his cock and his cum in her mouth, pussy, and asshole. She returned to her office and fingered herself to two more orgasms…

…“Will, we’re here!” Oren called out after they entered his apartment. Video game sounds were coming from one of the bedrooms, telling them both where his son was.

While Lori waited at the kitchen counter, Oren knocked on his son's door to make sure he could come out. A moment later, the door opened, and the eleven-year-old stepped out. Lori felt her nipples harden and her vagina twitch when she saw him. He was wearing only white boxer shorts, and his 8.8-centimeter penis was clearly visible through the worn fabric. He stood shyly, looking at her, while his father introduced her without commenting on his son's clothing.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you," said Lori with a warm smile as she stepped in front of the boy.

Will mumbled a noncommittal reply, his gaze fixed on Lori's cleavage—something she was trying to emphasize with great care for his sake. A quick glance downwards told her that Will's penis was reacting as expected, and she felt a strong twitch deep inside her cunt.

"He's starting to masturbate," she thought. "I wonder if his father knows."

After a few moments, Oren led Lori to the living room sofa and brought them both a glass of wine, while Will retreated to his room. As Lori snuggled under Oren's arm, she deliberately placed her hand in his lap to gently massage his soft penis. When it became erect in her hand, she wondered if his son in the other room was doing the same to his growing penis and tried to imagine her breasts. She felt her juices seep into her panties at the thought.

“I think you’re about to have your fifth and sixth orgasms today, and I have a strong desire to offer you my hand… or my mouth… or my warm, wet, greedy cunt,” she grinned, turned around and gently bit Oren’s right earlobe while squeezing his swelling penis tightly through his pants.

“But… what about… my son?” he stammered, as she hastily unzipped his trousers, reached inside, pushed his underwear aside, and placed her hand around his throbbing penis.

"What about him?" she whispered seductively before plunging her tongue into his ear. "He's busy with his game in his room, so we should mind our own business out here. Now take off your pants and hold your cock up so I can ride you."

As always, Oren didn't argue with her. She ripped open his shirt, the buttons flying in all directions as he slipped out of his trousers. Then she straddled his hips and let him use the tip of his penis to push her panties aside while she removed her top and bra. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and felt his hands knead her bare breasts as his thick, 13-centimeter penis slid effortlessly into her velvety cunt with a single thrust.

“Fuck me, Oren… fill my cunt with the same sperm… that made this sweet boy… and I’ll suck you hard… so you can come inside me again… wherever you want,” she gasped as she began bouncing up and down on his cock while reaching down to roughly rub her throbbing clit.

Oren buried his face between her breasts and moved back and forth, tugging at the silver rings with his teeth, just as she loved it. Lori closed her canal around his cock, sucking it with her cunt as effectively as with her mouth. When she heard him groan and felt his cock throb against the walls of her canal again, she threw her head back, waiting for the first spurts of his warm semen deep inside her, which would trigger her own climax.

Then she saw eleven-year-old Will standing in the living room's entryway, watching them, his right hand sliding quickly back and forth inside his boxer shorts. Her gaze met the teenager's. Then she smiled and winked at him before burying her face in Oren's shoulder to muffle the cry as the most intense orgasm she'd had in a long time washed over her. As their climaxes subsided, Will was out of sight, and Lori decided not to mention to Oren that his young son had watched them having sex or how aroused she found it.

Later that evening, after making sure Will was asleep, Oren brought them both another glass of wine. Lori leaned back and sipped it, while Oren obediently buried his face in her pussy and licked his own semen off her with his tongue until she shuddered and ejaculated another orgasm in his face. By then, his cock was rock hard again.

"Hand or mouth... pussy or ass... your choice," she teased him, squirting a drop of precum from his glans, anticipating that he would next fuck her face hard and wildly, just the way she loved it. "Your sixth orgasm today must be something special."

Instead of his usual gentleness, he pulled her over the arm of the couch, spread her buttocks with both hands, and rammed his throbbing cock into her asshole. She slammed her face into the pillows to stifle the screams that accompanied her next two orgasms.

Continue reading..

Information My brother saves Halloween
Posted by: Simon - 11-24-2025, 09:00 PM - Replies (1)

“You and I in a small toy store, buy a bag of balloons of our money,” my brother sang by my ear. I giggled, but was more interested in his hands on my waist – not firm, just ... right there ... on my hips like he was leaning down a little while he leaned down. That made me smile and made me shudder a little. A good shudder. I liked it when we were friends, when we were close.

My brother paid for the balloons and all the other stuff we had chosen for Halloween costumes, and we left the store. He took my hand, and we went back to the hotel to get creative.

So it is: My aunt finally married her loved one on the Saturday after Halloween. They really liked Halloween – they had met at the time! I don't want to say that my mother forced me and my brother to go to the wedding, because she didn't. We like our aunt and wanted to go.

My mother said, “Katie, you and Henry, I’m afraid you’ll have to take a few days off from school because we’re going to Aunt Marcy’s wedding in Chicago!” and I pretended I was mad – just “Ohhhhhh, crap!” And so, but I laughed. Mom knew! The only thing that spoke against it was that we would miss Halloween with our friends, but we would have our cousins. At least we thought.

My aunt lives somewhere in Chicago, and it's always fun to visit her a couple of times a year. We go for a week every summer, either during the spring or winter holidays, and do different stuff, or sometimes we just hang out when our cousins meet us there or we drive to them.

In the spring, just around Easter, we were at this Wolf Lodge in a suburb of Chicago. There were plenty of water slides there, and it was fun to play on it with Henry. I'll tell you right away, my brother's hot! At least for me and my friends. My cousins were also allowed to stay there, so it was fun all around. But secretly I liked to hang on to my almost naked big brother when we slipped down a big slide together – I just “needed” him for safety! He always paid attention to my breasts when he held me or threw me into the water, but not on my butt, and I never made up for it!

We live in Nebraska, so it's great to go to the big city a few times a year, and I don't mean Omaha! At home, there is a lot of land and not much to do. If Henry and I didn't have our bikes, I wouldn't know what we were going to do. We are not farmers, but my father is already – he leads Mr. Tyrell's operation. We live in a suburb of Omaha, somehow between Omaha and Lincoln, near the Platte River, but that actually just means that our house and all sorts of leisure activities are a little further away. Not that you could swim in the plate. And yes, I hate it when my cousins ask what it's like when the cows fly around because of all the tornadoes ... (I saw a tornado.)

Life out there revolves around the corn. Over the last two summers, Henry harvested and cleared corn for a few weeks for good money, and this year I was allowed to work with him for the first time. I hated it and didn't last through the season. I should have known when the boss said, “A twelve-year-old girl? You can’t do that.” He was right, I honestly didn't last a week. On that first day, only another young girl was there, but a few teenagers persevered it, as I was told. It was strange to watch my brother wear long sleeves and so to work on hot days. At home, he wears only shorts and his Cornhuskers cap in the summer. So he got himself a nice tan and builds muscle. So I like it a lot when he's driving upstairs without and I can see her. At least in the summer.

So when I talk about a city trip, I mean Chicago. A real city where the buildings just don’t stop and Lake Michigan is so big that it might as well be the sea!

However, be...

We had been forgotten on Halloween. I admit, it kind of hurt. No, it really hurt.

We arrived on Thursday with Mama (Daddy later) with the Amtrak and stayed at this large downtown hotel. Aunt Marcy and her fiance Ronald came to dinner, as did Uncle Ted, my mother’s brother, and his wife, Aunt Frannie, and my Uncle Bill and Aunt Trisha, but none of their children came – the restaurant was too chic for all the children. They all said we could come to them for the “sweet or sour” for Halloween, and they would pick us up.

The next day, on Halloween, the adults took the wedding rehearsal in one of the dining/conference rooms on the third floor. After that, they wanted to go out to eat and hang out for the rest of the evening and get drunk. So all our cousins were home and went to play “sweet or sour” or to a friend’s Halloween party.

And Henry and I stayed here at the hotel. We should have gone to one of them, they would have helped us with the costumes and we would have gone to play with the cousins and cousins “sweet or sour”. Damn, we would have just gone with the smaller children if someone had picked us up. Or if we'd known the bus routes.

Only the wedding party came. No one came to pick us up. We waited. We didn't have their numbers, so we couldn't call. We could have gone down and mixed with the rehearsal guests, but we would have just been in the way, waited until it was all over, and would have looked pathetic.

So we sat in the lobby for another hour after we expected to be picked up. You can't read the comics in the paper forever. Then my brother got up and made a decision. 

“Come on, Katie,” Henry said, taking my hand, “we’re going costume shopping.” Even as children, we’d had it ingrained that Henry always had to hold my hand when we went anywhere. I’d just turned twelve that summer, and Henry would be fourteen in January, but he was doing it anyway, and there was no way I could stop him. We left the hotel lobby and walked out onto Michigan Avenue.

There's just something special about this town! It just feels different! There's electricity in the air! People are moving fast, some talking to themselves on their phones, men in suits, women with shopping bags, teenagers or college kids, dressed however they want, and some dressed like they're in the movies. All the cars… I bet as many cars drove past us here as in all of Lincoln! And when I looked down the street, the street just kept going, it didn't end at a field.

“Hey!” Henry pointed at a hole in the middle of the street that cars were driving into. “That’s from Batman! When they go into the street under Gotham City in Batman: The Dark Knight? Exactly!” He was so excited, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand. We’d already seen a few movies with Chicago on them when we came out, so we wanted to see if we recognized anything, like Ferris Bueller’s Day and The Fugitive, but seeing Batman stuff always made Henry happy.

Down the street there was this huge, crooked building with giant Xs on top, and no matter how far we went, we never got any closer!

"Henry, why don't we get closer to the building? It's just always... down there... and we keep walking, and it's still down there!" I asked my brother. I'm not stupid, but what the heck?

"This is the John Hancock Building," said Henry, as if that explained everything.

I had to giggle. "Hand penis!"

“Yeah, I’ll give you handjob!” Henry laughed back. He put his free hand in his pocket and stuck it out a few times to make sure I kept laughing. I had to quickly look around to see who had seen us. Actually, no one. Just my brother, who was grinning at me broadly. His blond hair caught his eye. He wore it long on one side in the front, and when he surfaced from the pool, he could swing his head and shoot water at you with that hair, and he was damn accurate!

"So, where is the Serious Tower?" I asked him when I had stopped giggling.

"A little inland, away from the lake, so it doesn't fall into the water when the beach erodes." He pointed to the left. It used to be the tallest building in the world, but I still couldn't see it because of all the other tall buildings.

It was actually quite cold, so I was glad we'd dressed appropriately for the trip. My mother tells me that when she was young, it actually snowed here one Halloween, and she had to wear her winter coat over her mermaid dress! I was hoping it wouldn't snow, although it felt a bit like rain, but Henry said it might just be because we were right by the lake.

Not that I didn't enjoy walking around and looking at the people and buildings, but... "Henry, where are we going?" We had to pull out of the crowd and stand next to a streetlamp so that people would naturally wander around us. It was cool that some people were dressed up for Halloween—the girls mostly in black with dyed hair, although we also saw a few boys who looked a bit like zombies.

Henry slowly turned in a circle, looking at the names of the shops. "I thought there might be a good store nearby, like a Target or something, where we could buy costumes."

“Why do we need costumes? Nobody comes for trick-or-treating,” I reminded him.

“Katie, we may be stuck here in Chicago, but they make candy here! And all these people are dressed in black and orange, and everyone knows it’s Halloween. All we need is a good costume, and then we can go trick-or-treating. And there have to be some houses and apartments somewhere off this main street, right?” My brother looked determined. I admired that about him. Not to mention, Uncle would ruin Halloween for us!

Then Henry and I spotted it at the same time. A Walgreens! We knew that!

So we went to Walgreens and bought supplies for Halloween costumes. There was a large section with Chicago souvenirs, but the Halloween section didn't have much besides candy because it was a downtown store. So no Spider-Man or Pikachu costumes, and no Batman costume either, which disappointed Henry. So we had to get creative.

“What if…,” Henry began as we strolled through the corridors. He picked up a small stuffed dog next to the birthday cards. “I put on my wedding suit and stick this dog on, and do some makeup for bruises and a beard? I could be John Wick!”

I understood what he meant by creativity. I took three little stuffed kittens with me. "I can pin them to one of the hotel bathrobes, put on the free slippers, and be a crazy cat lady!" I could curl my hair with Mom's curling iron.

Next, I found a bag of purple balloons. "Could I blow them up and pin them on myself? I'm a bunch of grapes!" That was a good "maybe." We took the balloons too.

We saw some toys from Jurassic World. "If you put on your shorts and my button-down shirt," Henry thought, "you could be the woman from Jurassic Park 1. We just need to make a badge or something, maybe with a stuffed dinosaur?"

We brought a box of markers with us. There was stationery for drawing in the hotel room.

We went to the clothing department. There were some red leggings. “I’ll wear those and your red Cornhuskers shirt backwards and a green wool hat, and I’ll be a bottle of Sriracha!” We both said, “Uh…,” but I put them in the basket. A red wool hat could turn us into a terrible garden gnome if we could just find something for a beard? No. There was a leotard, and if I combined it with something, I could be Barbie. Maybe stick paper wheels on my shoes and rollerblade them… Complicated, but as Barbie, I could do anything if I stuck my chest out and smiled a lot. I have breasts now—not big, but they’re there. I told Henry about it and that we could turn him into Ken, so we went to the cosmetics department and looked for Aqua Net hairspray.

"Blue hairspray?" Henry found a colored spray can nearby. "Hey, could you be the sad blue girl from Inside Out?"

“I don’t know if that would work,” I said. “I think I saw the girl outside, just like in real life. So no costume.”

On the way back to the clothing department, we passed the automotive section, and I picked up a chamois leather. I held it against Henry's hips. "Tarzan?" I joked. Yes, I was just kidding, but part of me pictured Henry almost naked with it on. I mean, I've seen him swim and run around, but it would be funny if he wore it on purpose!

Henry took a second chamois leather. "Only if you were Jane!" He held the chamois leather over my breasts.

My imagination ran wild, but I pulled myself together. "Sorry, that'll never keep the little ones in place..." I said, holding my right breast with my free hand. Henry laughed, but looked at me for a little longer and put the two chamois leathers away.

Back into the clothes: "A pair of thick mittens and be that Bernie from Congress?" Hmm... "An umbrella and be some kind of Mary Poppins?" Hmm... "This undershirt, my jeans, draw on a mustache and be Freddie Mercury?"

“Maybe,” I said, imagining my brother’s bare arms.

"A blue T-shirt... Look around, maybe there's at least a Superman shirt, or I'll take this plain one and draw an S on a piece of paper. There are glasses over at the pharmacy. With my jacket, I could be Clark Kent?" Henry seemed to like that idea, so we took the blue T-shirt.

The next aisle was for food. We put a bag of Doritos and some Ruffles in our shopping basket, along with a few small donuts, and then each chose two Cokes—I got vanilla, Henry cherry. You need that kind of thing to watch TV in your room, right? There were these little cereal boxes… “Could we stick them on you and be a cereal killer? Find or make a knife? Stick them on your shirt and make crazy eyes?” That was maybe a maybe, but it reminded us to get some tape too, since we always thought we could stick things on ourselves.

I put a plant on my head. "Get me a yellow tablecloth as a poncho and I'll be a pineapple?" Meh...

"Here are some silk roses. Put on your dress, and you could be the Bachelorette!" Henry suggested.

That was a maybe. "I'd have to be pretty for anyone to understand..."

"You are pretty," Henry said to me.

I had to stop. That blew me away! "You... you think I'm handsome, Henry?"

My brother blushed slightly. We were in the middle of Walgreens, and I was somehow embarrassing him. But what else could I say? It was exciting and mysterious at the same time!

"Hey, don't get me wrong, like it's weird or anything," he began, shifting slightly. "You're my sister and all, but even I can see you're hot, and I'm going to have to keep my friends away from you soon."

I didn't know what to say. This was... I couldn't believe it! The words swirled in my head, and I had to... I wrapped my arms around Henry, smacked him on the ribs with the shopping basket, and pressed my ear against his chest. "Are you serious, Henry?"

I heard his "Of course" through his body, the air in his lungs echoing in my ear. His hands closed around me, one of them stroking my long, golden hair, but then I felt him pull away.

Oh... yes... we were still in the middle of Walgreens.

"Come on, let's buy this stuff and then go back and figure out what to do," he said to me. And then he sang in my ear at the checkout, when I took the things out of the basket and he saw the balloons again.

I love my brother.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a stand in the large Millennium Park with the fried bean thing and bought some overpriced hot dogs. They were good hot dogs, but apparently ketchup on hot dogs isn't allowed in Chicago.

Upstairs in our room, we ate the hot dogs and fries and were less annoyed because we'd had enough. I guess we had a pretty good room for the occasion, a suite. There was this fancy living room with a sofa, chairs, a table, windows, and all the trimmings; in our mom's bedroom, there was a big bed that she'd share with Dad when he came to town; and Henry and I had our own bedroom with two single beds. I suppose they thought they were doing us a favor. Usually, when we went away, we all got a room with two big beds, and I had to share it with Henry—which I didn't mind at all. But we knew that Mom and Dad wanted to cuddle this weekend if there were proper bedrooms. With two single beds, though, I couldn't exactly lie down and cuddle with Henry. But at least we had privacy. And our own bathroom, which was quite nice.

We dumped our supplies on the desk next to the TV. We bought the puppy, three kittens, balloons, a blue shirt, an eight-pack of cereal, six artificial roses, cheap children's sunglasses, a sleeveless undershirt, a leotard, red leggings, a green wool hat, Aqua Net hairspray, tape, scissors, Doritos, Ruffles, donuts with little gems, and two Cokes. (The Cokes went in the fridge because we'd bought two root beers from the hot dog vendor.) It all cost way more than Henry wanted to spend, but he had his money from our summer job, and we wanted to give him a choice.

We finally had to get into costumes if we were going out trick-or-treating. Henry took off his Nike shirt and then his jeans because he thought he'd try "Clark Kent" first. Stripping down to his underwear wasn't a big deal—we saw each other like that every day. But when Henry was standing there in just his blue briefs and socks… "Hey, if we went back and got you some blue leggings, you could be Superman!" I said.

There he was, almost naked. It was different seeing him in his underwear. In shorts, his buttocks had the same shape, but in his briefs, he looked different, as if he were showing off his curves. His front was completely different too – in the shorts, his penis was just a bulge, but here it had shape; you could see where the individual parts were and what they were doing!

But there he stood, his muscular chest, his arms with their summery-looking biceps, his strong legs, and those underwear—socks instead of boots—and he looked like a superhero. He seemed to be thinking about it.

“I know what you mean,” he said to the floor, looking at his legs and underwear, “but we’re not going back. We should have thought of that before. I bet there was a Dracula cape somewhere. If we only had black clothes, I could be Bruce Wayne, like after the fight with the Joker, like when he came home and took off his mask.” Then he looked at our things on the table. He picked up my red leggings. “But with these and my Cornhuskers shirt inside out, I could maybe be The Flash…”

He tried to step into them, but realized he had to take off his socks, pulled his leggings up to his thighs, and finally realized that his underwear belonged over them.

My brother took off his underwear. I saw his butt. His real butt. He turned away from me, but I couldn't look away. My brother was naked. He put on his leggings, then his underwear, then his red shirt, and turned back to me. "Yes? No?"

I was still a bit dazed. "The leggings really do make your legs look slimmer," I managed to say when I came to my senses. The combination really didn't look good, even for a cheap costume.

“Yes, I thought so…” Henry said, sitting down and undressing again. I couldn’t just get up and run in front of him to look, but just knowing he was briefly naked again in my presence was incredible. I said nothing. I simply enjoyed it.

He put on his khaki trousers, his new blue T-shirt, and his button-down shirt. Then he drew a Superman "S" on hotel stationery. Meanwhile, I glued the three kittens onto the hotel bathrobe and tried it on. "Crazy cat lady?" I asked Henry.

"What are you wearing underneath? Your jeans, like that?" he asked. He took the lenses out of the cheap sunglasses and put on his Clark Kent glasses.

I wasn't sure. It wasn't a sexy costume, just funny. I'd have to mess up my hair. "Maybe my pajama pants?"

"How about grapes or Sriracha?"

I dropped my bathrobe and faced the same decision as Henry. Should I put on the red leggings in the bedroom, or just do it out here like him? I risked everything and decided to tease him too, just to see his reaction. I undressed in front of my brother down to my bra and panties. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but we were here. "Give me your red shirt," I asked as I pulled on the leggings.

My brother watched me. He only gave me the shirt after I had put on the leggings.

"If you wear them over your underwear, they get all knotted up," he said, looking clearly at my backside.

I went to the mirror and turned around. "Yes, but you can't see them with that shirt on." Henry shrugged and then helped me by coloring in a "Sriracha" label.

I put on the green wool hat; I thought I looked funny, in a good way. Henry put on his jacket, we took some photos of ourselves (I wish I'd had my camera with me when Henry showed me his bum!), we made sure we had a room key and some Walgreens goody bags, and went out into the corridors as Clark Kent and Sriracha!

We tried knocking on a door further down the hall. No answer. We tried another. No answer. At the third door, someone said, "What do you want?"

We sang "Trick or treat!"

She said, "Go away."

We had to imagine that it would happen. We had better luck at the next door. We knocked, and it opened. A shirtless man stood there. He had trousers and shoes on, but no shirt. He was very hairy, on his chest, shoulders, and back! I didn't know men could have back hair! He also had shaving cream on the back of his neck, so I guess I knew where we'd gotten him.

"Trick or treat!" We sang.



"Hey-eyes... Look at you, Youse! Yes, it's Halloween, I understand. I never would have thought children could..." He looked both ways down the hall, perhaps to see if there were more children or adults nearby. "Hey, I don't have any candy, but Youse, kids have nerve, I'll tell you that. Here."



He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He knocked over a couple of one-dollar bills at our Walgreens bags.



"What are you, a CPA?" he asked Henry. Henry's shirt had fallen closed, and he opened it to reveal the S. "Well, that's a pretty cheap Superman, guy. Where's the effort in that? And you, doll-face, let me tell you... You're wearing something sexier, showing a little skin, instead of dressing up as a Keebler elf. And I'd give you a few more dollars, you know what I mean?"



I didn't know what to say. Henry picked up the dollars.



"Hey, Merry Christmas!" the guy said and closed the door.



We went straight back to our room.



Once inside, I grabbed that stupid hat and threw it against the wall, then ripped off my red shirt and collapsed on my bed. "This is stupid! We're stupid for even trying!" I felt like crying, and maybe I did. My eyes were wet.



Henry came up behind me and put his arms around me. I raised my teeth to let him. "Ignore that gorilla guy, he's just an asshole."



"Gorilla-guy!" I sniffed and laughed. From then on, Henry and I would refer to the 'gorilla-guy' in many private jokes.



"But you have a doll's face. I told you so..." he whispered in my ear, "...you're really pretty."



That made me smile. "You know my friends and me, they all think you're hot..."



"Your friends... And you?" He repeated. Oops, I already said that. Didn't I?



I sat up. "Mm-hm. I'm your sister, I can judge you. You look good after all that work this summer." And that was that.



We went back out to our costume shop. What else could I be besides stupid Sriracha? With my back to Henry, I took off my bra, then stepped into the yellow leotard. "Maybe Gorilla-guy was right after all." What if I showed more skin and did the Barbie costume?



"You don't have to do that..." Henry said, looking directly at my chest. I knew my nipples were erect back then, but I felt a little daring. Henry did call me pretty, after all.



"Yes, my underwear is all in a pile, still. I could take that off," I said, annoyed, "and make a ponytail. Do you think that would be Barbie enough?"



"You... you could try it..." Heinrich Gehustet.



I really didn't like that Barbie combination. I had no idea what to do with it. "Yes, no... I'll go with Cat Lady, but I'll wear my shorts underneath, show some leg."



And that's what I went with. Henry decided to try something a little more Halloweeny. Even though he'd put in some effort, he taped four cereal boxes to his sleeveless undershirt and poked holes in the boxes with the four plastic knives we got from the hot dog guy (why, I don't know—what do you need knives for with hot dogs?). He pulled his jeans back on and gave himself a little stubble with my mom's mascara. We took a few pictures and we were back outside.



We decided not to go door-to-door to the guest rooms this time, but went downstairs and knocked on the desks of the front desk and the concierge. Both of them, I'm happy to report, had a large bag of candy on their desks! We got three Musketeers and life-size Kats from the front desk lady, and full-size Reese's Cups and Milky Ways from the concierge. We wanted to try the Bell Captain, but the concierge quietly shook his head at us. The front desk lady waved us back.



"You kids should snatch the stores while they're still open," she told us. "Of course, whoever's closest to the counter has something, even if it's just Smarties or Tootsie Pops. College kids like to trick or prank and think it's funny, but the stores like the good intentions and surprises."



That's exactly what we were hoping to find out! We were starting for The Street when the concierge stopped us. "Kids, I hate to tell you, but it's gotten colder out there now." We should have remembered. It used to be cold, too. "Bring a coat or... change your outfit, Klein? Like padding or... trousers?"



That should be the third costume change! But with four chocolate bars and two dollars in our pockets, that's what we wanted to let dangle!



In the elevator, Henry knew he couldn't drape his coat over the cereal boxes—the whole look would be ruined. Would he go back to Clark Kent? He decided to try the John Wick look. I could pad my robe and wear trousers, I knew that, but I suddenly wondered if people would think I was a homeless person? When Henry decided on John Wick, I had the idea of pairing them up, like we might have done with Barbie and Ken.



Henry changed quite quickly in our room, getting into his nice suit he brought to the wedding and sticking the few stuffed dogs on his shoulder. He was painting John Wick's beard on his face with Mom's mascara brush when I came back from Mom's room.



I was in my beautiful wedding dress, a red, street-length, off-the-shoulder gown, but I wore leggings underneath and borrowed my mother's black jacket to keep the chill off. I would wear a little makeup—not much—and use the curling iron on my long, golden hair so it just fell below my shoulders, and apply a lot of Aqua Net for wind protection. And I wore the six fake roses.



"What do you think?"



Henry was stunned, which made me very happy. "Doll face, you're not pretty. You're beautiful!"



I couldn't hide my smile, and I gave Henry one of my roses. "Will you accept this rose?"



When he saw the flower of mine, he leaned in and kissed me. He kissed me! A real kiss! On the lips! And not some quick birthday peck, a proper kiss! I felt it all the way down to my toes. At first, he only kissed my lips, but when he didn't pull away, I kissed him back. When we broke the kiss, I had to shake the stars out of my eyes, but a smile, I'm afraid, has been glued to my face now.



We took some photos, grabbed our Walgreens bags, and took the elevator down. We got a very approving smile from the concierge as we walked outside. Henry took my hand, like he always did.



As we walked down Michigan Avenue, we now looked like we belonged. Well, we were certainly dressed appropriately, although Henry's fake beard—and the dog, as children, sort of gave us tricks and treats—didn't exactly make us look like kids.



Not every store had candy for us. We got a few "Oh, I'm sorry, but aren't you cute!" replies, but Carrie, the desk lady, was right, and we got candy in other places. No more life-size ones, but we got lots of M&Ms, Snickers, Milky Ways, and suckers—I don't know the brand. One department store had candy, but since the nearest desk was cosmetics, the girl there let me try on a nice lipstick with my dress and gave me some perfume samples—which was really cool!



Our favorite place was this soul food restaurant. The lady not only gave us some M&Ms, but we were feeling so sick we hadn't had dinner yet, and sat us down and gave us plates with samples of short rib street tacos, roasted green tomatoes with lump crab, kaleid dip and chips, and some parmesan truffle fries. This was, hands down, the best stuff we had ever tasted! And it was just appetizers, she told us, because the entrée stuff was portioned. Henry tried to pay, but the lady wouldn't hear of it, and her husband, who had been cooking in the back, came out and immediately recognized Henry's outfit.



"Money isn't good—not if you can't spend it." He told Henry, which Henry loved because it was a John Wick line. "I guess. The lady wanted to know who John Wick was, and then the man and Henry both said, 'John wasn't exactly the bogeyman. He was the one you sent to kill the damn idiot!'"



Henry said he should have a fake gun, but both the man and the woman immediately reacted and said a fake gun was the worst thing you could have in Chicago! I was like, Okayyyy...



We asked about any houses in the area to go to, and she said there were some west of the loop, but at night and now it gets kind of "deserted" in the southern loop. Since it was already dark, we should either stay in well-lit places or head back.



We took some selfies. The couple and I gave each of them a flower, and we were on our way. (Before the wedding on Saturday, we brought... Our father is here for lunch!)



We walked as far north as the Chicago River – which isn't as big as the Missouri, but it was definitely deeper than the plateau, and this lady told us that the Chicago River runs backwards for some strange reason – and we still hadn't reached that John Handtail Building! We decided to head back to the hotel.



On the way there, it started to rain. Yes, it started out light, and we hoped that would be the end of it, but it turned really heavy very quickly. There was no avoiding it. We tried running, but I was in my strappy flats and slipping, luckily still holding Henry's hand so I wouldn't fall. We tried waiting it out in a doorway, but we got soaked and had to keep moving around for people to see. We just kept going and made it back to the hotel lobby as soon as we could.



When we got inside, I realized not only that my dress was ruined, but also Mom's jacket and Henry's whole suit. I started to cry when our friends, Mr. Thomas the concierge and Carrie, the receptionist, came to our rescue. Carrie assured me the things weren't ruined—just incredibly wet!



We should go to our changing room and call you. You should send a valet to collect our clothes and have them cleaned and pressed. They wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, but we didn't need them until before the wedding, and our mother didn't need to know—until the bill arrived at check-out!



I gave them all my wet roses, keeping the last one for myself.



When we changed, Henry just slipped out in front of the window in his white button-down shirt and socks, singing into the Root beer mug. "Just take these old-time rock 'n' roll songs and put them on the shelf..." He tried to do the Tom Cruise thing from the old movie where he sings in his underwear. Definitely cheered me up!



But Henry's shirt and underwear were wet like mine, and they had to go too. Our underpants and socks dried on the shower rod, but all the nice clothes went downstairs, somewhere, with the valet. We were cold, but we didn't bother taking hot showers, just dried ourselves with towels, combed out our hair, and wrapped ourselves up.

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