The Devil’s Pact
Chapter 21: The Glassners
by mypenname3000
© Copyright 2013
Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Mind Control, Incest, Oral, Magic, Rough
For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here
Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.
Click here for Chapter 20.
“I shot him.”
Silence filled the car. Mary’s hand was holding mine, gently squeezing. Her hand was warm and comforting. My dad was dead. My mom shot him. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth, worked my jaw, but nothing came out. What could I say? What should I do? My dad was dead. The bastard was dead.
A ragged sob came over the speakers of my Mustang, my phone synced up to the car stereo via bluetooth. “Mark, I don’t know what to do,” sobbed my mom over the phone. There was a muffled banging and shouts in the background. “The police are here, Mark. I…I got to.”
“Wait, mom!” I shouted hoarsely, finally finding my voice but the line was dead.
Mary reached over and hugged me tight. “I’m so sorry, Mark,” she whispered.
“I’m fine,” I muttered. I had felt nothing when mom said dad was dead. Hearing the shouts, the bangs, fear was gripping my heart, now. My mom, my sweet, patient, saint of a mom was in trouble. She’s never done a wrong thing in her life. Dad probably had it coming. He used to beat my mom all the time when I was a kid. Fuck, he’d beat me, too. God, I should have done something to my dad, earlier. Why didn’t I?
Fuck, I was going to tell him off tomorrow, when my parents came over for dinner. I was going to make him feel as powerless and helpless as I had. He was going to suffer, to crawl and grovel at my feet. He was going to pay for all the beatings he gave me. All the bruises he gave my mom. And now he was dead. And my mom was in trouble.
“Let’s go,” Mary said, calmly. “Put your cock away, and lets go help you mom.”
I pulled out my Nextel, pushed the call button. The Nextel chirped, connecting me to the network. “Master to 23,” I calmly said, holding the Nextel a few inches form my mouth.
“23,” a female voice answered back. 23 was one of our twelve cops I turned into bodyguards today. 24 and her were our guards this evening, sitting in a cop car just a few parking spots down from us.
“We’re going to 1414 S. Alaska St, in Parkland,” I said. “It’s an emergency. We’ll follow you.”
“10-4, 23 out.”
We raced behind the DuPont Cruiser. 23 had the sirens and lights blaring, weaving through traffic as I tailgated her. We got on 512, flying west towards Parkland. In no time we were exiting onto Steele St at the Parkland-Lakewood boundary, turning left and in two minutes we were pulling up at my parents house.
Four Pierce County Sheriffs and a Lakewood patrol car were on the scene, along with a Medic One ambulance. Neighbors were milling about. The only one I recognized was Betty Cooley. She was my age and lived a few houses down when we were kids. Concern painted her light, mocha-skinned face. She was half Black and half White, and had vivid, blue eyes. I vaguely remembered my mom mentioning she had to move back in with her parents a few years ago. The memory of the time I asked her out some school dance was flashing in my mind. The one time I worked up the courage to do so and after she laughed in my face, I never had the courage to ask another girl out.
I wasn’t sure why I was thinking about all of this. I had bigger things to worry about then some stupid high school crush. My dad was dead. My mom killed him. Betty Cooley hardly mattered at all. She still looked pretty, thin and with that beautiful skin. If I didn’t have bigger problems I probably would bend her over the car and fuck her raw while she ate out Mary’s cunt.
“It’s alright,” Mary whispered, touching my arm. “We’ll face it together.”
I don’t remember what I said to the cops outside to get us into the house. I was like a robot, not in control of my body, as I walked up to the door. Inside my dad was dead. My mom killed him. That was all that rattled about in my head. I gripped the brass handle of the door knob. My dad installed this handle when I was seven or eight. I helped him out, handing him his tools. He told me I was good son and ruffled my hair with his hand. Mary reached out and placed her hand over mine.
“We’ll face it together,” she whispered. God, she was the best. I pushed down on the handle and the door opened.
Inside, my mom was handcuffed, sitting on the couch, sobbing softly. Two Sheriff Deputies were talking to her. Her brunette hair was a mess, tousled and tangled like she just woke up. But it was nearly eight o’clock at night. She wouldn’t have gone to bed that earlier. But then why is she wearing her pink, frayed housecoat? Her beautiful face was puffy from her tears, her eyes bloodshot.
“Take off the handcuffs,” I barked at the two deputies. “It was clearly self defense and that’s how you’ll right it up in your reports. My dad was abusive and my mom had to defend herself.”
One of the deputies started uncuffing my mom, who blinked at me. “Mark,” she croaked. “I shot him in the back.”
“He was beating you, wasn’t he,” I asked.
“He…” she broke off. “I just had to stop him, Mark.”
“It was clearly self defense, mam,” one of the deputies said. “I think we have all we need. You’re free to go.” He handed her a card. “Here is the name of a grief counselor.”
“But…” my mom started to protest, confused by the sudden change of behavior of the cops, clutching the white card in her hands
“He deserved it,” I said, sitting down next to my mom and putting a comforting arm about her shoulders.
“No one deserves to die,” she muttered, miserably. “I…I just had to stop him.”
“From what, mom?” I asked, but she just sobbed again. The demon, Lilith, had told me that the only person my powers couldn’t work on were my mom and it looked like she was right. For Mary, it would be her father, if she had any powers that worked on a man, that is. “Okay, mom, you don’t have to tell me.”
“You don’t hate me, do you, Mark?” she whispered, plaintively.
“No, mom,” I said, hugging her tighter. “I could never hate you, mom. Dad was a bastard, anyways. He deserved it. And now you’re free of him. Free to be happy, to not live in fear.”
“I don’t deserve to be happy,” she bitterly whispered.
My mom sniffed, then noticed Mary in her purple blouse trimmed in white and her short jean skirt. My mom’s eyes lighted up with emotion for the first time as she looked Mary up and down. My powers may not work on my mom, but Mary’s did. When Mary and my mom had spoken on the phone a few days ago, my mom had gotten so horny we were pretty sure she was masturbating as Mary described herself.
“You must be Mary,” my mom said, giving her a wan smile. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”
“It’s okay, Sandy,” Mary said and bent down and hugged my mother and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “We’re going to take you home, okay. Things will get better, okay.”
“I…I guess you’re right,” my mom said, looking around at a loss. “I don’t think I can stay here.”
No one objected as we led my mom out of the house. My dad was dead in the hallway leading to the bedrooms and the crime scene guys were going over it. None of us wanted to go back to her bedroom to get her some clothes, so my mom walked out only in her housecoat. I was starting to think that my mom was naked underneath there. And why was dad home on a Saturday evening. That’s his poker night. I glanced at my mom, a sudden thought flashed through my mind. Was she having an affair? No, that couldn’t be. She went to church twice every Sunday and on Wednesday evenings. I had begged my mom to leave dad for years and she said she loved him, that Christians shouldn’t get divorced.
“Mrs. Glassner, I hope you are okay,” Betty said, coming over and hugging my mom.
“Its fine,” I told her. “My dad was being abusive and my mom had to defend herself.”
“Oh,” Betty said, looking confused. “And that’s what the police think?”
“Of course, that’s what happened,” I said.
“Right,” she said. “Call me if you need anything, Mrs. Glassner.”
“I will, sweetie,” my mom said, fondly. “I…I’ll call in a few days.”
“Sure,” Betty said. “You take care, okay.”
“You too, Betty,” replied mom, squeezing her hand.
That nagging thought that my mom was having an affair wouldn’t go away. I noticed that she had lipstick on, smudged, and mascara ran down her face from her tears. Why would she have makeup on if she was just hanging out in the house on a Saturday night. I wondered who she could be having an affair with. It was mindboggling. My mom was so straitlaced, I just couldn’t believe that she’d cheat on my dad. Not that I’d blame her, my dad was an asshole.
I pulled out my cell phone and called the house. “Glassner residence,” a bored Allison answered. Allison was one of our sex slaves, our first actually, a sexy teenage nympho.
“Get all the sluts out of the house,” I ordered. “Go next door.”
“Yes, Master,” Allison quickly answered. “Is everything all right, we heard from the bodyguards that something wrong?”
“Just clear the house,” I ordered, suddenly angry. I wasn’t even sure what I was angry about.
“Sorry for questioning you, Master,” Allison apologized. “The house will be emptied.”
I hung up and saw Mary was helping my mom into the back seat of the Mustang. My mom sat in the back, quiet. Her face was blank, her eyes dead, as she stared down at her open hands. 23 followed in her patrol car as we headed home. The entire drive was filled with uncomfortable silence. Mary kept opening her mouth, wanting to say something, but just couldn’t seem to find the words, and would close her lips.
“Should we order a pizza, or something?” Mary asked as we pulled into the driveway. “I mean…” she trailed off. Her stomach gave a guilty rumble and she flushed.
We had been on our way to dinner when my mom called and I shrugged. “I guess. And a bottle of wine or three.” Then I caught Mary’s hand and kissed her palm. “I love you,” I whispered. “We’ll go out to dinner Monday night, okay.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” Mary said with a shrug.
“We have to go to Seattle anyways,” I said. “To buy the land.” We were planning on building a mansion on the giant, empty lot behind our house. It was supposed to be a housing development before the housing bubble burst. It had a magnificent view of Mount Rainier.
“Sure,” Mary said, smiling.
Mary led my mom up into the house. She seemed lost, not aware of her surroundings. I found a bottle of red wine, probably a good vintage. Brandon Fitzsimmons, the original owner of the house, seemed to have good taste in wines. I took his house and made his wife, Desiree, our sex slave. Brandon, however, seemed to be fighting back against my orders. He sent the FBI to raid my house on Thursday. I would need to track him down.
I called Pizza Hut and ordered a couple of pizzas, meat lover for me and a half Hawaiian (for Mary) and half Veggie Lover (for my mom). I gave them Brandon’s credit card to pay for the order. While I had a lot of money in the basements from my bank robberies, it amused me to make Brandon pay for things.
“I’m sorry, sir, the card came back declined,” the bored teenager on the line said. I guess Brandon finally canceled his cards.
“Cash then,” I said and hung up.
Mary had my mom seated on the couch and I handed mom a wine glass. She stared at it for a moment and then downed it in a single gulp. My mom wasn’t one for drinking. Maybe a glass of wine when she saw my aunts once a year, at most. I poured her a second and she sipped it.
Mary was sitting next to her, a supporting arm around my mom. I sat down on the other side and took my mom’s hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay,” I told her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
She looked up at me and I saw some life in her dead eyes. “I killed him, Mark. I shot him in the back. How’s that going to be okay.”
“Why, mom? Why did you shot him?” I asked, squeezing her hand. “I’ll still love you, no matter why. Even if he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was a bastard.”
“He was,” she whispered. “I…I was…” her voice quivered. “I…I…”
“You were with someone else,” I said, carefully. Part of me hoped it wasn’t true. My mom couldn’t be having an affair. She was too nice, too wholesome, to do something as sordid as that.
“Yes,” she said. “I…I had been seeing someone for a few years.”
Her confusion rocked my foundations. My mother was so straitlaced. So good and proper. To find out she’d been having an affair, for years, was so surprising. My mom refused to leave my dad. She loved him, she was a good Christian, all the excuses she gave, and then to find out she was cheating on him. Wow.
I studied my mother. At forty-three she had a great body. She was short, petite. She had always exercised everyday, keeping in shape, and it paid off. Her figure was as fit as any twenty year old. Her face had transformed from her pretty and youthful face she had when I was a child into the mature and beautiful face she had now, only slightly marred by a few wrinkles.
“You don’t hate me, do yo Mark?” my mom asked. “B-because I’m a ch-cheating whore.” She started sobbing again.
I brushed a strand of brown hair from her face. “It’s okay. You’re not a cheating whore,” I told her. “Dad was pig. He didn’t deserve you. You deserved some happiness, mom. So he caught you and your…uh…boyfriend?”
My mom wiped at her tears, an almost grateful smile on her face, for a moment. “Yeah, my b-boyfriend,” she nodded, flushing, the almost smile gone. “We were in bed. He was supposed to be playing poker all night with his friends. He was so angry when he caught us. My lover fled and I locked myself in the bathroom. He pounded on the door and then he said something about teaching a lesson. I thought he was going after…after my lover. So, I left the bathroom, grabbed the shotgun in the closet and shot him in the back as he stumbled down the hallway.”
“So it was self-defense,” I said. “Or at least, you stopped him from hurting someone. So don’t feel guilty.”
“Was he going to hurt my lover?” my mom asked, desperately. “What if he was just storming off, disgusted with me. There was so much pain in his eyes when he saw us. I never wanted to hurt him. I was just lonely…and my lover was there for me. And I just panicked.” She started sobbing and in embraced her and held her as she sobbed incoherently.
Mary paid for the pizza when it arrived, and it sat on the coffee table, growing colder and colder, as I held my mother. Mary was crying, as well, tears running down her face as she watched us. Finally, my mom’s sobs decreased into tiny hiccups and then she pushed away from me and wiped at her tears.
She saw the pizzas. “It’s okay, if you want eat,” she said. “I…I…” She took another sip of her wine. “He was going to do something,” she whispered to herself, trying to convince herself that she was right to shoot him. She took another sip of wine. “He was a bastard. He’s never going to hurt me again.”
I squeezed her hand. “I love you, mom,” I told her.
“Thank you, Mark.” She ruffled my hair, a tremulous smile on her face. “You always were a good boy.”
The pizza was cold, but I was starving, so I didn’t care. My mom nibbled at a slice, and looked at Mary. “That’s a lovely top, dear,” she said, stroking the fabric of Mary’s blouse. “I like the feel of it.”
“Thank you, Sandy,” Mary replied, smiling flirtily. “I like the color of your robe.”
“This old thing,” my mom dismissed with a flush. “You are quite beautiful, Mark’s a lucky guy. I hope he treats you right.”
“Oh, he does, Sandy,” Mary said, archly. “I have no complaints.”
“Good,” Sandy said. “A pretty little thing like you deserves to be treated right. I enjoyed talking to you on the phone the other day. It was so stimulating.”
I bet it was stimulating, mom, I thought with a smile. Mary’s had made a wish with the Devil to have all women desire her, and it worked over the phone, apparently. My mom had gotten so horny talking to Mary, she started masturbating. It had been hot, realizing my mom was masturbating while on speaker phone with me and my fiancee.
“I enjoyed it too,” Mary said with a wicked smile. Mary had started rubbing her cunt when she had realized what my mom had been doing. “It was a very pleasurable conversation. I couldn’t wait for you to come over. I hope you can come over and over…to our house.”
“Hmm, I would love to come again,” my mom purred. “I want to know every thing about you, cutie.”
My mom hugged my fiancee, rubbing her body against her. Mary smiled and hugged her back, stroking her back. My mom was nuzzling at her neck, whispering, “You smell so lovely.”
Mary smiled happily and when they broke the hug, my mom’s nipples could be seen pressing hard against her housecoat. Mary made eye contact with me and motioned for me to leave. To make my sex slaves immune to a nuns control, I needed to fuck my mom and have the slave drink our combined cum from her pussy. The only problem was, my powers didn’t work on my mom.
Luckily, Mary’s did. We planned on having Mary seduce my mother tomorrow night when she came over for dinner. Once Mary got her in bed and horny, she’d convince my mom to fuck me. With her wish, Mary could get any woman to do any sex act, no matter how depraved. I just needed to give them some privacy and let Mary do her thing.
“Shit,” I said, pulling out my phone. My mom jumped, seemingly forgetting that I was there and flushing in embarrassment. “There’s an emergency at my rental property,” I lied.
“You have a rental property,” my mom asked, surprised.
“I invested in real estate with some of my poker winnings,” I lied. I was telling our families I won money in a poker tournament. “There’s a burst pipe. I got to take care of this. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh, okay,” my mom said, then placed her hand on Mary’s thigh, rubbing it. “I’m sure Mary and I will find something pleasant to do.”
“I’m sure we will, Sandy,” Mary said with a throaty laugh.
My cock was painfully hard as I walked out of the living room. Outside, red-head 09, the bodyguard watching the house, leaned against her Milton Police Department patrol car. She had a nice pair of tits that filled out her half open blouse. Her legs looked beautiful, clad in thigh-high, black boots and barely covered by her short skirt. Leaning against the car, you could almost see her pussy, and her parted thighs looked so inviting.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father, sir,” 09 consoled.
I wasn’t. “He was a bastard,” I spat and walked up to her. My cock needed relief and 09 would be wet and willing for me.
She smiled when I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock, spreading her legs wider. “Hmm, let me make you feel all better,” she purred, lifting up her skirt to expose her fiery-red bush.
I shoved up against her and thrust into her cunt, angrily. I fucked her hard, pounding her dirty cunt. Anger was boiling through me. The bastard went and died before I could tell him how I felt. “You are a fucking asshole!” I shouted at my dad as I fucked 09, my eyes squeezed shut. “You’re a worm. A goddamn coward who could only feel like a big man when beating his tiny wife or his kid! And now you are fucking dead! Too scared to face your son grown as a man! To afraid of what I’d do to you.” I wasn’t making sense, a tiny part of me realized, just ranting. Letting all the anger and hurt pour out of me as I pounded 09’s cunt. “I wanted to crush you. To strangle you. To feel your life pulse beneath my fingers!”
I could feel it, I realized, that frantic pulse of life in my hands. The beating of a heart as blood pumped through tiny arteries. That flutter of life being slowly squeezed out. I fucked faster and harder at 09. I squeezed harder and tighter at my dad’s throat. I had to kill him. Why didn’t I do it earlier. Why didn’t I confront my father sooner. Then my mom wouldn’t be wracked by the guilt of doing it herself. I had the power. For a week, I could have marched in and protected my mom. But I left her, abandon her to my dad while I enjoyed myself. Why didn’t I step in sooner.
Because you’re the coward, a voice whispered back. You’re still that cowardly little boy, deep inside, scared of your father.
The cunt I was in spasmed hard on my cock as the slut came, milking my cock for my seed. I exploded. My cum out of my cock, painting the sluts insides with sticky cum, and my emotions out of my soul, as tears poured out my eyes, running wet down my cheeks..
I was the coward. It was my fault. Sobs were rocking my body. I could have stopped all this, but I was still scared of my dad. I was still that little boy, deep inside. I looked at 09 through blurry eyes, her face purple as she struggled to breath. My hands were at her throat, squeezing her. When did that happen?
I let go and stumbled back. 09 fell to her knees, coughing, struggling to breathe. Guilt and shame burned inside me. What was happening? I could of killed her. I cried into my hands. My dad was dead. My dad was dead and I would never get to see him again. I don’t even remember the last time I saw him, or what he said to me. My emotions were all mixed up, anger, hatred, love, grief.
A woman hugged me, her red hair silk against my face. “Shh, it’s okay,” 09 cooed, her voice raspy. Even after I strangled her, she still loved me. What choice did she have, I made her love me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“It’s okay, sir,” she whispered. “It was so exciting. I came so hard when you were choking me. You could do it again, if you want.” I had heard being strangled makes sex more intense. I guess it was true. “I’m yours to do with as you please, sir.”
“No, forget that it happened,” I told her. “We just had regular sex.”
“Thank you for fucking me, sir,” she said, wiping at my tears. “I’m glad my slutty cunt satisfied you, sir.”
“Yeah, it did,” I said, standing up. I breathed in deeply, regaining control of my emotions. Dad was dead. I had arrangements to make.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ringing phone woke me up.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. It was two in the morning. After last night I needed to get some sleep. Antsy and I had taken this guy back to our motel room from some bar to fuck. I figured, let a guy get Antsy all hot and bothered and then I could have an easy time fucking her so I could perform the Prayer of Avvah on her.
It worked.
And while Travis and Antsy both passed out after they came, they eventually woke up, horny, finding me masturbating away. I fucked Travis and then I went down on Antsy, licking up the sloppy mess Travis left in her cunt. I was looking forward to her going down on me. She had a tongue piercing and I always heard that it made cunnilingus feel so much better. But Antsy had sobered up to much and would just finger me.
So when Antsy wanted to go out, I pleaded exhaustion. I may look eighteen, but I was feeling all of my forty-four years. So I crawled into bed and fell asleep. And I was enjoying that sleep before the phone rang.
“Sorry,” Antsy said. She was walking across the room. The bathroom light was on and I could see that her clothes were mused. She’s just been fucked, I realized. Antsy came to Miami to party and she had been thoroughly enjoying herself. “It’s my stupid brother. Ugg, I don’t want to talk to him.”
Her finger was moving to hang up. “Wait!” I shouted. I needed her to get together with her brother. This seemed so wrong, I was supposed to stop Warlocks, not serve people up to them. But, Ramiel said this was the only way. I just needed to have faith in God’s plan.
“What?” Antsy asked, her finger stopped above the phone.
“It’s late,” I said, trying to think of a reason to get her to answer the phone. “It…it…must be important.”
“I guess,” Antsy said, rolling her eyes. “Hey bro.” A look of stunned disbelief crossed Antsy’s face. And then, in the quavering voice of a little girl, she whispered, “He’s dead?”
Her legs seemed to give out underneath her and she stumbled, sitting heavily on the bed. Her eyes were wide with pain, a tear started trickling down her cheek. She saw me looking at her and she turned away, trying to hide as her brother talked to her. I watched her aura go from silver to black. Her brother gave her a command, exerting control over her. It wasn’t much control, his hold wouldn’t last long. Odds are, she’d have done it without him controlling her. Her aura would be silver by tomorrow afternoon, I judge.
“I’ll be on the plane,” Antsy said. “Tomorrow morning at 7:55 AM, American Airlines,” Antsy was repeating into the phone. “Mark, how’s mom.” She paused, listening. “Okay, okay, we’ll talk when I get in.” Another pause. “I love you, too Mark.” And then she hung up.
“My daddy’s dead,” Antsy said in her quivering, little girl’s voice. Her face contorted in pain and then the sobs overtook her. I held the girl to my chest and rocked her gently as she sobbed her heart out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Shit,” Mark said, and I jumped.
I was so enchanted by my son’s fiancee, I forgot Mark was sitting next to me. What was wrong with me. Ever since Betty, I was starting to wonder if I was a lesbian. And here I was panting after my future daughter-in-law. The fact I just killed my abusive husband barely register in my mind. All that seemed to matter was Mary and her beautiful, wicked smile. “There’s an emergency at my rental property,” Mark said.
“You have a rental property,” I asked, confused. He was a vacuum-cleaner salesman. Since when did he own a rental property.
“I invested in real estate with some of my poker winnings,” Mark answered. He did mention that in the phone call. Those darn FBI agents almost had me believing my good boy was a bank robber and a rapist. My eyes were drawn back Mary. She had the deepest, green eyes that twinkled naughtily. Get a hold of yourself, Sandy. But she’s just so desirable. I wanted to kiss her lips so badly. “There’s a burst pipe. I got to take care of this. I’m really sorry,” Mark finished.
“Oh, okay,” I absently said, staring into Mary’s eyes. I felt something warm on my hand and realized I was rubbing Mary’s beautiful thigh. Her jean skirt was so short, so inviting. This was just like when I talked to Mary on the phone. I couldn’t believe that I started masturbating. “I’m sure Mary and I will find something pleasant to do.” Why did I say that. I needed to take a cold shower. I needed to get out of this itchy housecoat and show Mary my body.
“I’m sure we will, Sandy,” Mary said with a throaty laugh. Was she flirting back.
How did this happen to me. I must be a lesbian. When I started the affair with Betty a few year ago, I thought it was just a fluke. David may have always been an abusive prick, but he was a passionate lover. And I enjoyed our lovemaking. But his drinking had grown so much, he had trouble getting erect anymore. I had gotten so horny and then Betty showed back up.
She was so beautiful, with that mocha-cream skin and her enchanting, blue eyes. It was so exotic. Her father was half-black himself, and her mom was a Norwegian beauty, and the combination produced a stunningly beautiful girl. And that day that I realized Betty was flirting with me, it had been months since I had been with David. I was so lustful, masturbation wasn’t cutting it anymore. I had even considered taking a lover, but I just couldn’t bring myself to break my marriage vows. But she was a woman. It wasn’t really cheating. I didn’t even think I was a lesbian, afterwards. It was pleasant, not as good as a man, but fun. And I felt I had kept my vows.
It’s only sex if a man’s penis goes up your vagina. President Clinton had said. So, you couldn’t really have sex with a woman. Therefore it was just fun, not adultery. Maybe homosexuality is a sin, but I wasn’t an adulteress. That’s how what I told myself. Mark and Samantha always wanted me to leave David, but I swore a vow before god. Until death I swore, and that’s how it ended. I could still feel the shotgun in my hands, how hard I had to squeeze the trigger, the roar it made and how much it hurt when the stock bucked into my shoulder.
Mary’s enchanting presence was drowning out the guilt over killing David. When I shot him, I was sure he was going to go kill Betty. The sweet girl had fled when David caught us in bed and this mad thought entered my mind that he was going to hurt her. I couldn’t let him do that. And…and it was easy. He had treated me so badly, I didn’t even hesitate.
“What should we do?” Mary asked, scooting a little closer. Her flowery perfume was filling my nose, an intoxicating fragrance.
I found myself sliding my hand higher up her thigh, nearing that short, enticing skirt and what was hiding underneath. I was such a horrible mother, thinking about seducing my son’s fiancee. But that didn’t stop me from sliding my hand higher and higher. Her thigh was silky smooth and warm.
“I would like to get to know my future daughter-in-law better,” I husked, like wanton trollop. You are a good, god-fearing woman so why are you doing this. Betty was bad enough, but she’s almost your daughter.
Is that why I’m so wet? I wondered. She’s the same age as Samantha. No, that couldn’t be it. Mary and Samantha were so different. Samantha had raven black hair, not the enticing auburn of Mary, nor did she have Mary’s enchanting green eyes. Our her delicious lips.
It took me a moment to realize that I had leaned over and captured those red lips with my own, hungrily nibbling at her lower lip. Oh no, I thought with dismay, she’s going to think her future mother-in-law some sort of lesbian hussy. But she’s kissing me back, I realized with delight. My son’s fiancee was kissing me, her tongue lightly pressing against my lips and I let her in.
Her hands unknotted my housecoat and the scratchy fabric was off my hard nipples. This was so wrong. How could I do this to Mark. He was my good boy. How could I betray him like this. How could Mary betray him. For a moment anger surged in me. How could this hussy allow her fiancee’s mother seduce her. She’s not even putting up a fight. She’s into it.
And then her hand was touching my hard nipple, her fingers deft and gentle as they rolled the hard nub and all resistance fled me. I was a lesbian. I was a slave to my desires. And I desired Mary so much. Eternity seemed to pass as we kissed on the couch, her hands exploring my body. She touched me everywhere, my face, my throat, my stomach, my thighs. My wet vagina. My achingly wet and naughty vagina.
No, I realized. It was a hungry, lesbian pussy and I shuddered on Mary’s finger when she slipped inside my hungry hole. Mary’s thumb rubbed my clit in small circles, coaxing an orgasm out of me. I gasped into her mouth, wrestling with her tongue, as she fingered me slowly and gently, until I could take the pleasure no more.
“I need to taste you,” I panted as Mary sucked her fingers clean of my pussy, savoring the taste of my pussy.
Mary stood and let me naked up the stairs to a bedroom. I was going to make love to this beautiful creature in the very bed she shared with my son. That thought sent a naughty thrill through my body. Mary pushed me back onto the bed and my breath caught as she pulled off her blouse and wiggled out of her jean skirt.
She was naked underneath. The most beautiful woman I could ever imagine. Her breasts were small, perky, and covered with freckles. Her nipples were hard and dusky. Her pussy was shaved bare save for a small heart of fiery hair, and her slit was tight, like a young girls. She looked so innocent until I saw her eyes and the hunger there.
I wanted to taste her but she beat me to it, diving into my bushy brown pubes, matted with my arousal. Her tongue licked through the hair and I shuddered, arching my back. I grabbed my nipple, pinching it hard as I enjoyed Mary’s tongue. Her tongue licked around my labia, teased my clit, and probed my hole. Everywhere she touched tingled with electricity. A growing charge that spread wonderfully through my body.
“Umm, eat my pussy,” I heard myself moan. “Yes, yes, eat me! You are making me cum, sweet Mary! Yes, yes! Keep doing what you are doing! Oh, wow! Wow!”
I was gripping the sheet in iron fingers as I writhed on the bed. Her tongue was flicking at my clit while two fingers slid up inside me, rapidly fucking in and out of my naughty hole. My muscles spasmed as my orgasm shot through my body.
“Yes, yes!” I cried as the electricity crackled through me. “Oh, fuck yes!” I was moaning so wantonly, like the lesbian whore I had become. “Umm, let me taste myself,” I purred, pulling on Mary’s auburn hair.
Mary crawled up my body, her face sticky with my cum. Her breasts dragged across my flat stomach, only slightly marred with a few stretch marks from my pregnancies. Our nipples kissed as our lips kissed and I could taste the tart and spicy flavor of my passion on her lips. Oh God, I had to taste her.
She sense my desire, too, because she kept on crawling, until her pussy hovered above my lips, wet and tight, her vulva was flushed with desire and completely bare. She tasted sweet and spicy and so delicious. She moaned above me, settling her weight down on my face, beginning to grind on my lips as I drank her ambrosia.
Her clit was a hard little pea that my tongue delighted in playing with, flicking back and forth and bringing such wicked moans from Mary. My hands gripped her plump ass, enjoying the feel of her flesh between my fingers as I kneaded her cheeks. I stopped playing with her clit and moved my lips lower, sucking at her tight slit, parting the crease with my tongue and feeling the wrinkled lips of her labia and then I found her wet hole and I shoved my tongue up inside her. I made my tongue as rigid as I could and fucked it inside her.
“Mmhh, Sandy, you’re tongue is amazing,” Mary purred.
A delighted gasp escaped her lips as my finger started teasing her asshole, feeling the puckered ring beneath my finger. David used to enjoy anal sex, and I grew to enjoy it as well. It was so much fun introducing Betty to it. I had used a carrot and reamed her ass then washed it and feeling wicked, used that very carrot in a stew I fed my husband.
Mary gasped as my finger pressed passed the tight ring and into her hot ass. My tongue was wiggling up her pussy as my finger wiggled up her ass. Her hips were twitching from side to side as pleasure washed through her. I started fucking the finger faster and faster in her ass and captured her clit with my lips, sucking on the pearl.
“Fuck yes!” Mary cursed. “Eat my cunt, oh fuck yes! You’re so good! Mhh, I’m gonna cream your face! Yes, yes, oh fucking yes! Here it cums, Sandy! Here comes my girl-cum!”
I felt her ass clench on my finger as her orgasm exploded through her. Fresh juices flooded my mouth and I eagerly drank them as I felt Mary writhe on my lips. A second orgasm rolled through her as I kept sucking her clit and fingering her ass. Her hips were writhing in circles upon my face as her third orgasm crashed through her and then she fell to the side, panting.
“Holy shit,” she moaned, turning about to snuggle up against me. “Where did you learn to eat pussy like that?”
“I…I…” started to say, but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her about my lesbian affair. I was too ashamed of it.
“Was it Betty?” Mary perceptively asked. “Was that who your husband caught you with?”
“Yes,” I answered and the guilt and grief and shame was there and I suddenly was sobbing and Mary was hugging me, her perky breasts pressed up against me. “He was going to hurt her,” I cried. “I couldn’t let him. She was so innocent. He should have just beat me like he always did. But not her.”
“Shhh,” Mary soothed. “It’s okay. He’ll never hurt anyone. Mark told me about him. He was an asshole. Don’t waste your grief on him, okay.”
I sniffed. That was easy to say. If only life was that simple. I had loved him, once. Part of me never stopped loving him. The foolish girl in me that thought he would change. One day he would stop drinking and be the man that I fell in love with. The bitter woman in me hated him, hated the way he drank, the way he’d hit me. Hit my children.
Mary’s hand was stroking my face and I felt desire rushing through me as her lips brushed mine.
“Just put that aside for tonight,” Mary whispered. “You can grieve tomorrow. Tonight is about love.” Mary grabbed her phone and started texting. “Just checking up on Mark,” Mary said and the guilt hit me. This was my son’s fiancee.
“Oh god,” I moaned. “What have I done.”
“You needed comforting,” Mary answered, setting her phone aside. She bent down and nibbled on my nipple.
“What have you done to me,” I whispered as my blood started to boil. “I’ve never felt like this before. Never.” Her eyes were so bewitching. “You are so enchanting, so enticing.”
“I put a spell on you,” Mary answered wickedly. “You’re putty in my hands, aren’t you. You’d do any depraved, nasty sex act I told you to.”
I wanted to say no. “Yes,” I answered. “God help me, but I would.”
Mary’s smile was so wicked as she licked up to my neck. There were footsteps coming up the stairs, echoing though the house. Panic set in. Mark was back. He was going to find me in bed with his fiancee. He’s going to hate me, look at me in disgust, just like David did. He looks too much like his father. I can’t take that, not again.
Mary’s tongue nibbled at my ear as the door opened. I wanted to yank up the sheets, to hide my nakedness from my son. Mary’s tongue was so wet on my ear, so pleasurable, that I could do nothing but let her lick me, to caress me. I could see Mark silhouetted in the doorway. Please, just go away. Don’t see me like this! I’m such a horrible mother.
“I want you to fuck your son,” Mary whispered. “He needs you. We need you!”
My legs were spreading open as Mark entered the room. He was naked, his body almost lean, just some pudginess remaining. He’s lost weight, I realized. He’s looking fitter than he ever has. His cock was hard and swayed as he walked. My precious boy was hard for me. I could feel moisture leaking out my pussy.
This is so wrong, I thought. But the ache in my pussy drowned out that voice.
“My boy’s grown up,” I purred. God, how did I become such a wanton hussy?
“We need your help,” Mary whispered. “To cast a spell. To protect our servants from our enemy.”
“Yes, let mommy help,” I moaned. I didn’t know what Mary was talking about, but how could I say no to my son. Mary was right, I would do anything she asked, no matter how depraved. And nothing was more depraved then a mother fucking her son. And his cock was so hard, trembling with every beat of his heart, aching to release his cum inside me.
How could I say no? I couldn’t.
Mark was climbing onto the bed, climbing on top of me. I was open and ready for him. My arms reached around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were strong and manly, capturing my lips with a forceful kiss, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. His weight was atop me and my legs wrapped around his hips. This was so wrong, so wicked, my pussy burned in anticipation. His cock bumped at the entrance of my pussy and I reached down and guided him back inside me.
“Yes,” I moaned as he entered me. “My son’s grown so big! And now you are back inside me! Show mommy what you know! Yes, yes! Fuck me!”
“You’re so wet,” he moaned in my ear. “You feel so good!”
His cock was plunging in and out of me. In and out, so amazing. “My sweet boy,” I whispered in his ear. “You are back inside me! My big son!”
He felt so amazing and I felt relief; I wasn’t a lesbian. This felt too good for me to be gay. A strange relief swept over me. I was bi, certainly, but not gay. I rose up to met his thrusts, grinding my clit against his pubic bone, my nipples rubbing on his hairy chest.
“This is so hot,” Mary whispered into my ear as I clawed my son’s back. I turned my head and she kissed me and Mark’s lips were there and somehow we were all kissing each other, tongues touching, exploring each other’s lips. Sharing and enjoying each other’s passions.
Mark was fucking me hard, the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts. “This is so fucking exciting,” he moaned. “I’m inside my mom. I used to jerk off to you, did you know that.”
“No,” I panted, feeling incredibly sexy. “All the girls you could have jerked off to, you chose me?”
“Yes,” he grunted. “You were so beautiful when I was young. You still are, mom.”
His thrust came harder, more insistent. Then I could feel it, his seed spilling inside me. Inside the very womb that I made him in, where I carried him beneath my heart for nine months. My orgasm exploded through me, stars danced in my vision. God, I wasn’t on the pill. David had that Vasectomy years ago. Was my son going to make a baby inside me. A new life? Proof of our new, incestuous love?
Mark rolled off me, a hand on my right thigh. Mary was on my left, her hand on the other thigh, keeping my legs spread open. “Don’t be scared,” Mary whispered. “We needed you for a spell.”
“What,” I panted and then I saw the girl enter the room.
She had bubblegum pink hair, was maybe seventeen, and naked. Her small breasts were pierced by silver barbells. Her pussy was shaved and there was a tattoo above her pussy. “Cum on in,” it read, an arrow pointing to her slit so there could be no confusion what the little slattern meant. The girl knelt down and I wanted to close my legs, but my son and his fiancee kept them open.
“Shh, this won’t hurt,” Mary said and kissed me.
The pink-haired girl licked my slit, tasting the mess I had made with my son. “Zimmah,” Mark whispered and I felt something, some energy, flow out of me into my son and this girl.
Mark shuddered and the girl gasped. “Oh, Master, I’m yours forever, aren’t I?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Forever, Allison” Mark answered and the pink-haired girl crawled up to him and kissed him on the lip.
A nut brown, big-breasted Latina woman crawled up next. Behind her I could see more naked women waiting. Just what was my son up to? I gasped in pleasure as the Latina licked at my slit and Mark whispered, “Zimmah,”. The energy flowed, Mark shuddered, and the Latina gasped.
There were tears in her eyes as she crawled up to Mark. “I’m yours forever,” she said and kissed him and then she was kneeling before Allison, the pink-haired girl.
“Allison, mi Sirenita,” she said, holding the girl’s hands. “Since Master claimed us, I have grown to love you deeply. You are so beautiful, innocent and whorish all at the same wonderful time.” She opened her hand, revealing a gold ring topped with a diamond. Little fish were carved on the ring. No, not fish, mermaids, their arms forming the mounting for the diamond. “Will you marry me?”
Allison glanced at Mark and he nodded. “Oh yes, Desiree,” she squealed and everyone was clapping as Desiree slipped the ring on her finger. “We’ll be together, forever,” Allison whispered, hugging her fiancee. “Forever Master and Mistress’s slaves.”
They kissed and Mary sighed next to me, rubbing a tear from her eyes. “Oh, that’s so beautiful.”
Their kisses became more passionate and then the Latina was kneeling down, spreading open Allison’s thighs, and dove into her shaved cunt with gusto. “Umm, my sweet Desiree,” Allison moaned, staring at the diamond ring on her finger as her fiancee ate out her cunt.
What was going on. Another girl, a doll-faced girl with beautiful, blue eyes crawled awkwardly between my legs. Her left arm was in a sling, a bandage covering her shoulder. She bent down and licked and Mark whispered the words. And on it went, girl after girl. When the eleventh girl, a cinnamon-skinned, Native American woman, licked my cunt, nothing happened.
“There’s no more sperm, Master,” she said, eyes wide with panic.
“It’s okay, Willow,” Mary soothed. “Mark and his mother can make more.”
I was eager to let Mark make more, I discovered. As weird as this entire situation was, I didn’t care so long as I could feel Mark’s cock inside me again. Mark lasted longer the second time and Mary sat on my face and I ate her pussy as my son fucked my pussy. Ten more girls licked my cunt and then I was empty of sperm. So, for the third time, I sat atop him, cowgirl style, and rode him passionately. Mary sat on his face and I made out with her as we rode my son.
Finally, the last woman, the twelfth one dressed as a slutty cop, kissed Mark and walked out of the room. The original thirteen girls, the once who weren’t dressed like slutty cops, were scattered about the room or out on the small, private deck; some were kissing, others were making love, and a few just cuddled. Desiree and Allison sat out on the deck, making out on a love seat. A red-head was cuddling with the injured girl. The Muslim girl and the cinnamon-skinned girl were sixty-nining on the floor.
“What’s going on?” I finally asked my son. I was wrung out, emotionally, physically.
“Well mom, I have powers,” Mark said. “And so does Mary. And there are people out there that want to stop us. They think what we’re doing is wrong.”
“On Monday, one attacked us,” Mary said and she motioned to a curly haired teenager. She looked eighteen. “This is Karen. She took control of several of the girls and overpower Mark and I.”
“I was bad, then,” Karen said. “I didn’t know how kind and great Master and Mistress were. My actions caused Korina to be shot and Desiree to almost die.” There were tears in the young girls eyes. “Master and Mistress punished me and then forgave me and now I happily serve them.”
“More will come,” Mark said. “And now we’ve protected ourselves against their most potent weapon, thanks to you, mom.”
I gaped at my son. “This is to much,” I said. “I…I need some time.”
“Of course,” he said, disappointment painting his face. “Choose a girl and she’ll take you to a bedroom. You can let her stay, warm you bed. She’ll be quite willing.”
I swallowed they were all beautiful, and I didn’t really want to be alone. Not after what I did. My pussy ached as all these beautiful women looked eagerly at me, lust painted on their faces. God, I could see how Mark grew to like this. All these beautiful, naked women willing to do whatever you wanted to them.
“You are on TV,” I said, recognizing the caramel-skinned one.
“Yes,” she said, with a smile. “I’m Jessica St. Pierre, reporter for KIRO 7 News.”
“You always looked so beautiful on TV,” I told her. “Would you mind…”
“I’d be honored to,” Jessica purred. “You are the mother of Master. I’ll do whatever you want.” Her smile promised so much and I found myself being led away. This wouldn’t do, I thought, as led me into a bedroom and her mouth eagerly kissed me.
Jessica was pushing me back onto the bed. She smelled of cinnamon and jasmine. How was I supposed to think straight when this sexy minx was sucking at my breast? God help me, but I wanted one for myself, my very own slut. I could think later, I could grieve later, for now Jessica was lithe and wet and gasped sweetly as my finger slid into her cunt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I waited at the carousel for American Airlines flight 2269. It was supposed to be in at 1:35 PM, but it was already closer to three and still the plane hadn’t landed. I stiffed a yawn, and rubbed my eyes, staring up at the Arrival Board, hoping for a change in the status of Antsy’s plane. Nope, still delayed.
I didn’t sleep well last night. After my mom was taken away by Jessica, I tried to sleep but I was haunted by bad dreams. I was always looking for my dad and I always arrived too late. I would be terrified that I missed him and I would wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes I would be crying, others I would be filled with such profound anger I wanted to pound my fists against something, anything.
Every time, Mary was there to hold me, to calm me down. She never complained, never even gave me a dirty look. All she gave me was compassion and understanding. In the morning, my mom looked just as haggard as I felt. She was sitting in the kitchen, chatting with the sluts, sipping a cup of coffee.
“I don’t understand how you got your powers,” she finally said after staring at me. “But, I think I understand why you do it.” A flush crept down her face, and she glanced at Jessica who sat listlessly, sipping her coffee. I wonder if she got any sleep at all. “It’s intoxicating, being in control.”
I nodded. “Especially if you haven’t been in control your entire life.”
And she nodded and thanked me. “I needed to go,” she finally said. “I have to think, but I understand.”
“Antsy flying in today, she’ll want to see you,” I told her.
“I’ll be at home,” mom answered.
“There’s a house available just down the street,” I had told her. “Quite a few, actually.”
“Maybe,” she said, tiredly. I had Desiree drive her home.
“I’m sorry, Alice,” Mary was speaking into her phone with her friend, Alice. I should say friend with benefits, since all they seemed to do is get together at a motel and have sex. I didn’t trust Alice. When I met her on Thursday, it was quite clear she was in love with Mary. “Listen, Mark’s dad died last night, okay. I needed to be here for him.” She paused, listening to Alice. “I know, we’ll get together soon, okay.”
Mary and I headed to the airport, arriving about twenty minutes before Antsy’s flight was supposed to arrive. 01 and 09 were our bodyguards, driving 01’s State Patrol car. And then we waited. And waited. Sitting on these fucking uncomfortable seats.
“Well, I guess not even you can make a flight be on time,” Mary had joked when I complained about how late the flight was.
I yawned a second time. I had been sitting on this plastic chair for far too long. I was too tired to even muster the energy to find a pretty girl and find a better way to pass the time. Or maybe that was just the excuse. My dad was dead and everything seemed a little less beautiful this morning. I barely was able to muster the energy to make love to Mary this morning. Mary was exhausted, too, dozing, her head on my lap.
“Hey, bro,” a woman said, shaking my shoulder.
I opened my eyes, blinking. I must have fallen asleep. Standing before me was Antsy, in a violet halter-top and a pair of skinny jeans. Her black hair fell loosely about her shoulders. She looked as tired as I felt, eyes baggy with exhaustion. She had a smile on her face, she was forcing herself to look happy.
“Who’s the hottie?” she asked in fake excitement. “Did you finally trick a girl into going out with you?”
Mary sat up, wiping drool off the side of her face. “This is Mary, my fiancee,” I said. “Mary this is annoying, little Antsy.”
Antsy smile turned genuine. “Wow, how good in the sack is my brother to snag you. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” Mary said, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “He’s amazing in the sack.”
“So…” she started to say, her smile fading. “Dad’s dead?” she asked and then grief rippled across her face.
I was hugging her and my sister sobbed on my shoulder, her body trembling like a child in my arms. My shirt was wet with her tears as she cried into my chest. “H-how,” she finally said, looking up at me with tear-stained eyes. “You didn’t want to say, on the phone.”
“Mom shot him,” I said. “He was…you know.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, bitterly. “God, why didn’t she just leave him.”
I shrugged. “There’s more, she was with…someone when dad found her and…”
“Betty, right?” Antsy asked.
I blinked. “No, no, she was having an affair.”
Antsy nodded. “Yeah, with Betty.”
“What?” I gaped. My mom and Betty. I was flabbergasted. No wonder my mom took to flirting with Mary so easily.
Antsy told me all about how she caught the two of them. Antsy was just happy that mom had found somebody and urged her to leave dad. “Mom seemed ashamed of being gay,” Antsy explained. “You know mom, church twice a week.”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
We talked the whole drive. I didn’t remember the last time I saw my sister, her graduation from High School last year, I guess. And dad was around, so I left pretty quickly. We shared stories about dad, remembering the few good times we had with him. And as much as I hated him, I realized there was still a part of me that wanted to be that little boy, getting patted on the head by my dad and told what a good son I was.
“Where are we?” Antsy asked when I pulled into my driveway.
“Our home,” Mary answered.
“What’s up with the cop?” Antsy asked. 24 was parked in front of the house in her Bonny Lake patrol car.
“Our bodyguard,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it.”
Inside the house, Antsy gaped at the parade of naked and half-naked sluts. Violet walked up to her, naked, and hugged Antsy. “I’m so sorry about your dad,” Violet said.
Antsy stood frozen. “Mark, who are all these women? Are you a pimp?”
“These our sex slaves,” I said. “It’s perfectly normal to have sex slaves, right Antsy.”
The command sank in. “Oh, of course, bro. I’m just so jet-lagged.”
I led her upstairs. Mary stayed behind. I wanted to have my sister to myself, just like Mary wanted her sisters to herself at first when they came over last Friday. I took her into the bedroom, my cock was growing hard. I was about to fuck my kid sister. She was no longer the gangly youth that annoyed me. A beautiful woman had somehow grown from that bratty child. So lovely. A younger version of mom, with bigger breasts, I noticed appreciatively.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you, Antsy.”
“I do,” she whispered, flushing. “It’s so wrong, but I do.”
I pulled off my shirt and she eagerly pulled off her top. She wore a sheer, red bra underneath, her nipples dark shadows through the fabric. Her skinny jeans came off next, sliding off her slim thighs. Her panties were a matching, sheer red, the smooth lips of her cunt just visible through the fabric.
“What about your fiancee?” Antsy asked as her bra came off. Her breasts were large, round and perky.
“She’ll be joining us later,” I said.
Antsy smiled. “I don’t know what it is about her. I’m not a lesbian, but I’d be gay for her.”
“Mary has that affect on people,” I told her as my boxers came off. She licked her lips when she saw my hard cock and quickly shoved her panties off her hips and fell back onto the bed.
She spread her legs, wantonly, showing off her tight slit, wet and flushed. “God, I’m so horny for you, bro!”
I knelt between her legs, inhaled the tart and spicy flavor of her sex. I dug a tongue through her groove, delighting in her flavor. Her legs twitched as pleasure rolled through her. I gently spread her lips open, revealing the moist, pink flesh and started lapping at her cunt. I explored the wrinkled folds of her labia, the hard pearl of clitoris, and the velvety hole that led to her sweet depths.
“Wow, bro,” Antsy moaned. “You’re pretty good at giving head! Hmm, yeah, keep doing that. Fuck, I can’t believe how hot this is! Crap, I’m going to cum already!”
Her delicious juices flooded my mouth. I smeared some on my finger, rubbing it on my eyes. “Mowdah,” I muttered, casting the spell that would let me recognize a nun.
I looked up at my sister and could see a faint, black outline about her. Just like Mary described. According to Mary, most people had silver auras. All of our sex slaves had black, and I had a red aura. My sister’s aura was black. Maybe it was people under my power had black auras. I think Karen, the former nun, mentioned that once. Thralls had black auras and Warlocks red.
My cock was hard and I could figure this stuff out later. My sister was wet and ready to be fucked. Her eyes just shouted it as she started hungrily at my cock. So I crawled up her body, kissing her on the lips. Her tongue eagerly slid out to taster her juices on my lips. Her hands grasped my cock and guided me to her wet hole.
When I slid in intense energy seemed to flow between us. We both gasped and panted as orgasms rolled through our bodies. Stars swam before my eyes as my cum shot four massive blasts into my sisters cunt. Antsy moaned beneath me, her back arched, pressing her soft breasts against me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered to Antsy as I started fucking her. She was the most beautiful, desirable women in the world. What woman could compare to the beauty of my sister.
“Oh, Mark,” she panted. “Hmm, when did you get so sexy.”
Her hips were bucking up to meet mine. I was fucking my sister, the most beautiful creature in the world. We were made for each other, I realized. Made by mom and dad to be perfect lovers. I didn’t need any other woman, just my sweet sister. Her sweet cunt. Her perfect tits. Her beautiful mouth as she gasped in pleasure beneath me.
I don’t know how long we fucked. But we tried every position: doggie, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, standing up, on our sides. I came in every hole she had: her sucking mouth, velvety cunt, and tight ass. We sixty-nined and I didn’t care her cunt was full of my cum, just that I was eating my sweet Antsy’s pussy.
When Mary walked in, naked, I remembered that she was supposed to join us. She had a drab body, small breasts, and her ass was too plump. Even her shaved pussy was wrong, too girlish and unappealing. And that heart she had shaped her pubic hair into. It was so pathetic. After I had Antsy, Mary was no longer beautiful. Hell, how did I ever find her beautiful. She pressed up against us, rubbing those ugly tits against us.
“Can you give us some privacy, Mary?” I asked. “We need to comfort each other.”
“Can’t I comfort you?” Mary asked, hurt in her eyes.
You love her, a voice whispered. Fight.
Fight what?
“No,” I told her, then I tried to try to take the hurt away from her eyes. “We just need some privacy.” Tell her you love her, the tiny voice whispered. You have to fight. “I…I…love you,” I managed to choke out.
“Okay,” Mary said, a tear trickling down her face. “I love you too.”
It felt good to be fucking my sister without Mary around to ruin the mood. So why did I hurt so much inside? Why did I feel like a piece of my soul was being torn away from me. But Antsy’s cunt felt too great, too amazing, to listen to that voice, to feel that pain.
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 22.
