Denise Bryant - Mother and Daughter

We had a drink and sat around the bed talking. Joe had only a high school education, had been in the Air Force a number of years, and worked now as an X-Ray technician for the county health department. He used his job as an entree sometimes to seducing young boys and girls when he traveled around to the schools with the mobile-unit.

They had not been kidding. Joe delighted in explaining how he would grasp the children by their hips or buttock to line them up in the front of the machine:

These little gals… hell, with them short skirts they wear, I just reach under and grab their ass and get so damn hot I can cream in my pants, and if there's a kid I think likes for men to play with him, I get him at the end of the line so he'll be in there alone with me, then I tell him it's better if he drops his britches for the X-ray. I mess around a little bit and if it gets hard, I start playin' with it…”

Beside Joe, Martha was a real doll. As I said before, she was a genuinely cute girl. And she also had two years of college and a job as a medical secretary. She was sharp and displayed a great deal of personality as well as an interest and knowledge of so many subjects other than sex. However, Joe had not been lying about her having an array of sexual quirks that, while they did not equal his, certainly tended toward the truly bizarre.

We had advanced to the stage of mutual nudity and feeling and groping around on the bed, when Martha began to open up:

“That party tonight would have been a damn drag, Denise. Most of those people are so square they look at a girl funny if she starts playing with assholes. Last week was so damn much better. Those people were real swingers, and that Ginnie… jee-whizz! You look at her bent over from the rear and you've got something, Denise. I got my middle finger all the way up her butt and she can come when I wiggle it just right. Can you do that, hon? Oh, I'm getting so damn hot, Denise. Tell me when you've got to go…”

I was drinking straight shots of scotch form the bottle. Not the way I usually like to drink, but it was all they offered. Joe was rubbing my clit about then. I was lying on my back listening to them talk, and I was getting very much in the mood for just about anything. Yes, I meant anything. These kind of things were not really to my interest. I never had thought about them before. Yet with the drinks, the dim lights, the two warm bodies, the excited way they talked, it was getting to me.

“You think you could make me come that way?” I turned over to Martha and asked her, my passion building suddenly. “I… I've never had a woman put her finger up there before.”

“Yeah… yeah, baby,” it was Joe who spoke up immediately, helping me to get on my arms and knees, “Come on, Martha. I'll get the vaseline…”

“No, wait,” she told him. “Get back… just watch, honey. Let me do it. Tell me if it hurts, hon.”

I felt Martha's long fingers pull my cheeks aside, and then the liquid wetness of her tongue bathe and penetrate my anal regions. One hand then went beneath and began to agitate my vulva until I was highly lubricated. Her tongue probed deeply.

“See how this feels, hon,” she said softly.

Her finger slid from front to back and the penetration began. The only unpleasant part in all of it was that first passage. The rest was clearly a sensual, sexual feeling. She moved her finger in and completely and I felt my breathing pick up. From the corner of my eye, I could see Joe perched at the edge of the bed watching as he muttered the most explicit obscenities and began to talk about things he had done in the most vivid detail.

I could not reach orgasm that way. I did try, but it was impossible. I was definitely stimulated, and Joe explained that with practice I could probably have anal climaxes as readily as I did vaginal ones. So we ended that particular act by his lying under me and giving me oral contact at my clitoris, while I went down on him, and Martha used her tongue and fingers on my behind while masturbating herself.

Although they had little furniture, Martha and Joe did have a movie projector and a whole cedar chest full of sex films. They set it up and we watched the movies all night long while we continued to relieve each other. I, think Martha was pretty much of a Lesbian, as her only interest was in going down on me, front and rear, and having me go down on her, which I did without finding it too distasteful.

After breakfast the next morning, she received her other wish too. I found the idea of what she did to me in the bathroom disgusting, yet I will have to admit that the psychological and physical sensations were interesting. It gave me a sense of superiority to an even greater degree than Cindy provided during our occasional meetings. And if there was one thing I needed, it was to feel superior, or at least to have some tangible evidence that I was not an inferior person.

The thing that spoiled what could have been just a way-out fling with a try at some new sex gimmicks, was the conversation that took place as we were lying on the bed later that morning. Martha was just lazily loving me while Joe looked on. It was a quietly satisfying kind of thing with nothing frantic and hurried.

Martha would suck my nipple a while and finger me. I would play with Joe's penis. We would all three huddle together and kiss and feel. This kind of thing often happened in threesomes or foursomes after an exhausting night of sex. We were stimulated, but there nothing immediate and urgent.

“You're lucky to have a good looking daughter, baby,” Joe started out, and I almost froze because I knew what was coming. “I bet you play around with her titties a lot and kiss 'em when she's home, don'tcha?”

“I'm not involved at all with my daughter,” I told him brusquely.

“Aw… come on, baby,” he leered ghoulishly, rubbing his penis against my buttock. “You got a sweet little gal like that you can see naked and play around with… don't tell me a Lessie like you don't like to muff that young stuff once in a while…”

“You're a filthy bastard!” I shouted at him, yet I hedged just enough so as not to break off completely and dissolve our acquaintanceship right on the spot. “Just leave my daughter out of this, all right?”

“Jeez… fourteen years old,” he kept on, rubbing against me faster, “Jeez! Baby, you must feel her every…”

That's enough, dammit!” Martha took over for me, jumping up from the bed and grabbing me by the arm, “Come on, honey, we'll go downstairs and dress.”

Martha could tell that I was both mystified and upset, so she attempted to explain things to me as we dressed. I wished she hadn't, because her words went something like this:

“You've got to forgive Joe, honey. If you only knew his background, it's a wonder he's able to get by as well as he does. His mother seduced him when he was about 13 and waited for him in bed naked every day when he came from school. He still says she's the best piece he ever had. And me? Well, I guess we really are two birds of a feather… only I try to act more decent. My mother was a whore and a Lesbian, Denise… and a drunk. When she got drunk, she used to kiss me all over, and…”

I tried to forget about Joe and Martha the rest of the year and concentrate on my more normal friends. I did see them at a couple of parties and we swung a little there. I think Martha had managed to tone him down some. One time he did nothing but have intercourse with me and mention nothing more unusual than, “Damn, baby, you're as tight as that St. Bernard I use to get over in Germany.” For Joe that was pretty straight stuff.

The school year seemed to just whizz by me with all the activity of swinging and part-time whoring sandwiched in between the duties of my job. I tried to separate the two lives completely, but I noticed that more and more I began to look upon some of my students, both male and female, as potential sex objects. I carried on a few mild flirtations with some of the bigger senior boys and fancied that at least one of my quite talented girl students was interested in me as something more than a teacher.