Descent into Depravity Ch. 07

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The morning after my orgy with the missionaries I was sore. My pussy was sore from being fucked again and again by their big cocks, and my legs, my arms, my shoulders, even my back was tired and sore from all of the exotic positions those boys had bent me into as we screwed. “My god, what an afternoon!” I said as I rose from my bed and stretched. Then I laughed. “That sure beats being depressed about my husband’s death.”

I felt good. Really good. I had tried Hervé’s seduction technique and it had worked. It turned out that all I had to do was ask, in the right sort of way. Of course I realized that not everyone was going to be as readily available as Alex and Andrew were. But, nonetheless, Hervé’s approach had worked, and I was certain I wanted to try it again.

I didn’t hear from either of the boys for two weeks, and frankly I didn’t expect that I would hear from them ever again. But to my surprise one afternoon the doorbell rang, and when I opened the door there was Alex. Was he back for more, and if so where was his wingman? It turned out he wanted something different that proved to be very interesting.

We exchanged pleasantries and a brief hug that he pulled away from before I could take it any further.

“I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” he said.

“Sure, what?”

“Well, my girlfriend is coming to visit next week, and she needs a place to stay.”

“I didn’t know you boys could have family visits during your mission?”

“Ahhh . . . We aren’t supposed to, but . . .”

“I know,” I said. “Don’t ask me about the rules. Just ask me about what I need. Right?”

“Uhh . . . yeah,” he responded with a smile. “Something like that.”

“And how old is your girlfriend?” I asked. “This is Laura, right?”

“Yeah, it’s Laura and she’s 20.”

“Do her parents know about this little visit?”

“Oh god no. They would have a fit. They don’t like me. They think I’m too much like Andrew.”

“Oh, so you’re the good twin and Andrew is the bad twin?”

Alex grinned broadly and nodded his head. “Most people think so,” he said.

“But not Laura’s parents?”

“No. I guess not.”

Then he went on to explain that Laura’s parents thought she would be staying with her cousin in Oakland, but they wouldn’t be calling to check because even though Laura and her cousin were good friends, the two groups of parents were not on speaking terms.

He launched into a description of why the two sets of parents weren’t on speaking terms, “See, Laura’s mother used to date her cousin’s father. Then he married her sister, but he was still secretly meeting Laura’s mother on the side until her father found out and then . . .”

I stopped him. “Too much information,” I said (and too many pronouns, the English teacher in me thought). “I just want to be sure that she can come here, and the police won’t be looking for her as a runaway or a missing person.”

“Oh no problem. Laura and I have it all thought through.”

That had a dubious ring to it, but I was hoping the arrangement would end up with me having another round of sex with Alex or Andrew or both of them, and besides, after everything they had told me about Laura, I kind of wanted to meet her. My lust was overcoming my good sense.

“How long will she be here?” I asked.

“Only three days.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound as reluctant as I could, which was a little hard because I kept thinking about how good the sex had been with the two brothers and hoping this would be an entry into another round with them. It’s always amazing how easily lust can overcome good sense.

We spent a few minutes talking about the logistical details. When she would arrive, how she would get to my place from the Oakland airport, when Alex was going to be available to see her, and how sneaky he would have to be to get away with it.

Finally I asked, “Will Andrew be here?”

“I don’t know for sure. I haven’t told him.”

“Oh, I see.” More avenues for difficulty, I thought. Still, I wanted to meet Laura and who knew, I might wind up in a foursome with Alex, Laura, and Andrew. That thought made my pussy twitch.

Alex was beginning to fidget. He looked at his watch and said, “I have to go now. They’ll be looking for me if I don’t show up.”

“Okay, get going,” I said.

I followed him to the door and as he stepped through it, I reached out and swatted him on the fanny. He turned and looked back, “What was that for . . .?” he started to ask but stopped abruptly when he saw that I had both hands under my tits and I was holding them out to him. “Oh . . .” he said blushing. He paused for a moment and then said, “No, I really gotta go.” Then he was quickly out the door, on his bike and headed off down the street.

“My, my, my,” I said to myself. “This will be interesting.”

* * * * * *

It was about 5:30 on the following Tuesday afternoon. I was standing at my kitchen sink looking out the window when I saw an Uber car drive up. A young lady got out escort bursa and took a small carryon bag from the driver. As he drove away she stood at the curb fiddling with her cellphone, presumably to confirm the charge for the driver.

“Right on time,” I said aloud (I had gotten over my depression, but not my habit of thinking aloud when by myself). “So this is Laura.”

She was on the porch by the time I got to the door, but I opened it before she could ring or knock.

“You must be Laura,” I said.

“Yes . . . and you’re Alice?” she had a sweet soft voice. It was just lovely.

“Yes, please come in.”

As she stepped through the door I was wondering just how much about me Alex had told her. I’m sure she was wondering the same thing. Alex knew a good deal about each of us that I was sure neither of us would voluntarily share with a stranger.

My first impression was that this young woman was drop dead gorgeous. Not in the movie star glamorous style. She was the girl next door. The one that makes men’s heads turn wherever she goes. She was about five-five or so. Her thick, lustrous hair fell not quite to her shoulders with a soft curl. It framed her face beautifully. The color was a soft brown with shades of blonde and pale red. She had big round eyes with thick lashes and neatly shaped eyebrows that were the same shade of soft brown as her hair. Her large round eyes were . . . I guess I would call it hazel. They were almost green. Her make up was subdued but just perfect. I could see why the boys had fallen for her. She was one of those women who men fall in love with before they ever get past their first look at her face.

She was carefully dressed in a tan skirt that fell to just a bit below her knees. It wasn’t tight, but it still accentuated her round soft-looking ass. What I could see of her legs below the skirt were perfect, not fashion model emaciated, but muscular and shapely all the way down to her low heels. She wore a creamy lightweight blouse that looked like it should be translucent, but wasn’t (I don’t know how some fabrics do that—hinting that they will let you see what’s beneath, but showing nothing but perhaps shape). The blouse beautifully draped her good-sized breasts that stood high and firm on her chest. It was open at the neck, but not so far as to be anything but tasteful.

Over all the effect was gorgeous—not Marilyn Monroe gorgeous, but as close as she could get to it without slipping into the tawdry look that Hollywood uses to sell films today.

I led her into my living room and said, “Please sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”

She sat on the edge of the couch leaning forward just a bit, her knees tightly together and turned to one side. Now I could see a demure string of pearls peaking out from the opening at the neck of her blouse.

“Please,” she responded to my query.

“I have iced tea, cola, and I think some lemonade,” I said. Then after a pause, I added, “Or if you would like, I also have some white wine.”

She pursed her lips for just a moment as she considered her response. Then as she reached her conclusion she discreetly licked her upper lip with a quick flick of her tongue. My god, I thought. Even her tongue is beautiful.

She smiled and said, “I’d like that. A glass of wine would be nice. It was a hectic flight.”

As I started to the kitchen, I said, “Oh and there is a washroom down the hall on your right if you want to freshen up.”

I heard, “Thank you,” as I left the room.

So, I thought, as I opened a chilled bottle of wine and retrieved glasses from a cabinet in the kitchen, she looks like the good little girl her church wants her to be, but . . . maybe not. Perhaps she is just like the boys. Mmmm. I hope so, I thought, although at that point I was not at all sure what I was hoping for beyond something hot and sexy involving the boys . . . or if not the boys, maybe just with Laura. Oh that’s a nasty thought I told myself as I carried the wine and glasses from the kitchen. Should I try to seduce her? Another opportunity to try Hervé’s technique? But she’s barely older than the kids I teach at the high school, I told myself. Still . . .

When I returned from the kitchen I set the wine and the glasses on a coffee table, poured a glass for each of us, and took a seat on the couch at the opposite end from where Laura had been sitting.

Laura returned a few moments later and resumed her seat at the end of the couch opposite me. She kicked off her shoes, picked up her wine glass, and took a long drink.

“Oh that’s good,” she said. “I wish we could have wine at home.” She pulled her legs up and tucked them beneath her. I could see more of her thighs than before. They were as shapely as her lower legs.

“Your family doesn’t drink?” I asked.

“Not permitted.”

“You mean by the Church?”

She nodded.

“I got the impression from Alex and Andrew that what the rules are and what people choose to do in private bursa merkez escort may differ a good deal.”

She smiled demurely. “That’s true.”

“But your parents don’t drink?”

“So they say,” she said. She took another long pull on her wine emptying the glass and leaned back pushing her breasts out toward me. They looked bigger than I had thought earlier.

“But you think your parents do things that they don’t admit to?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” she said with a smile. “I know they did when they were younger. That’s why they aren’t on speaking terms with my aunt and uncle who live in Oakland.”

“Alex told me a little bit about that. It did sound like they were a bit outside the limits.”

“Ha! It was way more than a bit.” She paused for a moment. “May I have a little more of this wine?” she asked holding her glass out with a smile. “It’s very good.”

“Of course.” I stood and refilled her glass. As I poured, she leaned forward letting me see more than just the pearls as I looked down the front of her blouse. I continued to lean forward, as did she, for just a bit longer than was necessary to refill the glass. She knew what I was looking at, and I knew she was enjoying it, but neither of us was going to say anything about it.

I refilled my own glass and returned to my seat at the end of the couch, pulling my legs up in the same fashion as Laura.

“Those are lovely pearls,” I said.

She smiled with a look that said, I know you weren’t looking at the pearls, but I’m not going to say that aloud.

“Oh, these old things. I inherited them from my grandmother.” She released two buttons on her blouse and held the string out towards me briefly. One button would have done just to show me the pearls, I thought. She was leaning forward holding the pearls out for me to look at and showing me a good deal of the top of her breasts at the same time. I thought they were much prettier than the pearls.

“They’re very nice,” I said with deliberate ambiguity,

“My mother said I should wear them,” she said, ignoring my deliberate ambiguity. “She thought I should be dressed up to travel. I don’t know why. No one else does. These clothes are uncomfortable.”

“Why don’t you change?” I said. “Let me show you to your room.”

“Oh, that sounds great.” She drained off the second glass of wine and then leaned forward as she rose from the chair, giving me another good look at the top of her tits. I didn’t think it was an accident. She didn’t have to lean forward that far to get up. I delayed standing up myself as I enjoyed the view.

“Since when did I find a woman’s tits so beautiful and sexually arousing,” I asked myself. “Well, all the sex you’ve had with Joan might have something to do with it,” I responded in silence. “You certainly enjoy her tits.”

Fuck it. She’s sexy and I’m horny I told myself, silencing my internal debate as I pulled my eyes from Laura’s tits and stood up. I showed her to her room telling her I would take the wine out to the patio and she should meet me there.

It occurred to me that I was still wearing my teaching clothes, a knee-length cotton skirt and a loose blouse, with school-appropriate undergarments. I hustled to my room and pulled off my panties and bra and replaced the blouse with a T-shirt that made my lack of a bra obvious. As I carried a second bottle of wine (we had just about killed the first one) out to the patio, I realized I was getting quite horny. The sensation of my swinging tits rubbing against my T-shirt as I walked out of the room just made it worse. Well, actually “better.” “Worse” is a word that just doesn’t work in that context.

Sitting at the back porch table, having filled up both wine glasses, I was wondering how I was going to make this work. Alex was due to arrive in about an hour, as soon as he was able to escape from his mission. Was it Alex I wanted or was it Laura? Or was it both? I didn’t know but I was sure I wanted to have sex with someone.

A few moments later Laura came out. Now she was dressed as I expected someone her age to dress—a T-shirt and a very short, very tight pair of denim shorts. The shorts were faded and frayed, a bit of the white pocket fabric hung beneath the bottom of the denim in the front, and her cute round ass cheeks were peeking out in the back. Like all young ladies her age she had a cell phone tucked in the hip pocket. Her boobs bounced saucily beneath a scooped neck T-shirt as she stepped down from the house.

“Bad news,” she said looking disappointed. “Alex won’t make it until late tonight. They are having a special evening worship session that is going to run until 10:00.”

“But he is going to make it?” I said. “Right? I mean you aren’t going to have to do without after flying all this way.” My last comment was a bit suggestive, but I had helped kill the first bottle of wine so I was feeling a little uninhibited.

She giggled at my mildly lewd comment. “Certainly not!” she said in mock outrage. bursa escort “I sure as hell didn’t fly to California just for a peck on the cheek.” Apparently the wine had loosened her inhibitions also.

Now it was my turn to laugh. “How long has he been gone?” I asked, meaning how long have you been doing without.

“Four weeks,” she responded. She smiled for a moment and then continued, “But it hasn’t been as bad as you think.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Well, we had some cousins visiting. Third or fourth cousins, I guess. It’s hard to say. I come from a big extended family and I can’t quite keep track of all of them. Anyway, I had a fling with one of the cousins last week.”

“I see.” I paused for a moment trying to decide where to go next. “Was he good?” I asked.

“She was very good.”

“Oh, I see.” Another pause. “So you’re bisexual?”

“I guess so. I certainly like guys, and I seem to like girls too. My roommate says I’m just a slut.”

“You seem much too nice for that,” I said.

“Oh no. Even nice girls can be sluts.”

Given what I had been doing since Larry died, I thought perhaps she was right. I laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agreed with a chuckle.

“When I was in high school I was really prissy. I turned down all kinds of boys and more than a few grown men who wanted me. The guys in school called me the ‘ice queen’ in those days. Just after I graduated I came out here to visit my cousin over in Oakland. Their family was totally different from mine. That trip changed my life.”

“How so?”

“I’m not sure of the right word to describe them,” Laura responded. “Hedonistic? Libidonistic? Is that a word?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, “But I get the idea. They were horny.”

“No shit,” she said implying my characterization was a gross understatement.

“Tell me about them.”

“When I arrived, my aunt and uncle picked me up at the airport. They looked pretty much like normal people, but as soon as we were out of the airport and on the freeway, I could see that my uncle was driving with just his left hand. He was using his right hand to stroke my aunt’s leg. I was sitting behind my uncle, but I could see between the seats. He had her dress pushed up and his hand was stroking the inside of her thigh. Within a mile or so she had slouched down and put her left foot on the dashboard giving him better access to her sex. I was sitting in the back seat watching in silence, my eyes as big as saucers. I had never seen anything like their conduct.”

“Wow. Had they forgotten you were there?”

“As I learned later, they didn’t care what I was seeing.”


“Oh yeah. But there was more, much more. After another mile or so, she reached across and put her hand in his lap. By the time we got off the freeway she had pulled her panties off and I could hear his fingers sliding in and out of her pussy. That’s about when I heard his zipper slide down. I worked up my courage and leaned to my right so I could see what was going on. It was the first erect dick I had ever seen in my life. My aunt had her hand wrapped around his hard-on and was stroking it. She sensed my movement and looked back at me, smiling as though their conduct was normal. I couldn’t resist continuing to watch her masturbating my uncle’s cock.”

“That must have been a shocker for an ice queen,” I said. I was thinking about how I would have freaked out if that had happened to me before Larry died.

“No shit,” she said. “But that’s just the beginning of the story. I was shocked by what I was seeing, but to my even greater shock, I realized that I was becoming very aroused.”

“You did know what that sensation was didn’t you?” I asked.

” Oh yes. It wasn’t that I didn’t have normal impulses in high school. I just repressed them.”

“What happened next?”

“When we pulled up to their house in the Oakland hills my aunt and uncle buttoned themselves back up and we walked in, with my uncle carrying my case. I was beginning to think things were going to return to normal until my cousin, who is the same age as me walked in from the back porch where she had been sunbathing. She was naked. Her parents didn’t even seem to notice she had nothing on. If I’d done that at home, my mother would have had a stroke. She walked over to me and gave me a big hug and kissed me hard on the lips.”

“Okay, that was probably a little different,” I said.

“That was when my aunt said, ‘Excuse us for a few minutes dear. Lisa can show you where your room will be.’ She and my uncle walked out of the room together, with my aunt fondling my uncle’s ass. Then Lisa took me to her bedroom where we stood in the closet listening to them fucking.”

“And this experience was what changed you from an ice queen to a slut?” I asked.

“Well there was a lot more to it than that. I was there for a couple of weeks and I learned very quickly that the family was completely hedonistic. They rarely wore clothes around the house, and they all fucked each other every chance they got.”

“You mean . . .?”

“Absolutely—my uncle and my cousin; my cousin and my aunt; my aunt and uncle; all three together; and before the first week was out, me with any or all three of them.”

“But that’s incest isn’t it?”


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