textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/trinit12.txt

                       Chapter Twelve

     "Daddy?"
     "In here, Trinity."
     The living room.  I pictured him naked with his beautiful cock
hard and waiting for me.  Kennedy had taken care of my pussy, but I
had a craving only deep throating could satisfy.
     There is nothing like it when that's what you need.  The throat
has fantasies, you know, a memory of sensations.  There is that
little moment when you're not sure you'll get the monster swallowed,
then the tongue drops on cue and the throat opens miraculously.
There's that little wet pop as a man's hard cock squishes a small
pocket of saliva and air out of the way, and down it goes.
     I walked into the living room fully expecting to be able to
dive down in my daddy's lap throat first.  When I walked in,
however, it was not as I had pictured it.  Daddy was on the couch,
all right, but fully clothed.  To his left in a rocking chair was
Mr. Atkins, Grandpa.
     The mind shuts out the incredible for the sake of mental
economy, so I saw the other two people last.  Across from Daddy sat
Darlene, apprehensive and tentative.  I stared in disbelief and
confusion.  Shaking off the illusion, I looked to Daddy to get my
bearings.  It was not until then that I saw Christina sitting beside
him.  His arm was on the back of the couch, and she rested her head
on it when I looked at her.  In spite of the situation, I let my
eyes trail along her beautiful legs stretched out from under her
shorts to her bare feet crossed on the small padded footstool in
front of her.
     I recuperated fast.  "What are you, Grandpa, the referee?" I
said to Mr. Atkins.
     "I asked Emmett to be here," Daddy said.  "I think we need a
steadying influence in this situation, don't you?"
     I had an impulse to go wild on them.  As you know by now, it is
my characteristic defense to surprise situations that are supposed
to catch me off guard.  For some reason, it was Christina who was my
mind's focus.  I vacillated between jerking her pretty ass off the
couch and taking her place beside Daddy and deep throating her
pedicured foot with its red toenails.  The choir director kept them
beautiful for her.
     I started toward Christina figuring I'd make up my mind by the
time I reached her.  She jerked her feet off the footstool and sat
up, no doubt thinking I was going to start with her and trash the
place and everybody in it.  I straddled the footstool and looked
around at them.
     "Well," I said, "who wants to go first?"
     "We've told Jonathan everything, Trinity," Darlene volunteered.
"He knows everything about us and everything we've been doing."
     I looked at Grandpa skeptically.  He shook his head in quick
little movements, eyes darting at Daddy.  Daddy didn't know about
Mr. Atkins's fetish with my legs and crotch.  I winked at him.  He
blushed.  I reached over and ran my hand along Christina's leg and
lifted her foot to my lap. Actually, I needed something to do with
my hands.  I massaged her.
     "You fucked my sister," I said bluntly to Daddy.
     "Yes.  I fucked your sister.  I didn't know Christina was my
daughter, not that it makes any difference."
     "That all right," I said, "I sucked where you fucked."
     Mr. Atkins cleared his throat.  "Jonathan and ladies, I'm
perfectly willing to do what I can to help, but I find myself more
than a little distracted by this language."
     I ran my hand along Christina's leg and smiled knowingly at
him.  "Is that all that distracts you, Grandpa."
     He watched my hand longingly, then cleared his throat and
averted his eyes to Daddy.
     Daddy laughed.  "Emmett, relax.  I knew what would happen when
I left Trinity in your office that day.  It's time for all of us to
get honest."
     That was the start of a family encounter group I dare say only
a family like mine, if there is one other than mine, could have
withstood.  The details of it are unimportant here, and I won't drag
you through the emotional groundswell of those hours.  I know you're
looking for the next sex scene, and you know that's where we ended up.
     Mr. Atkins was, naturally, the only one among us too inhibited
to do anything in front of anybody.  We left him in the living room
with Christina, his brand new adopted granddaughter with full,
shapely, long legs and an experienced expertise in making his kind
of fantasies come true.  I took Mommy and Daddy by their hands and
walked backwards with them toward Daddy's bedroom.  Just as we
entered the hallway, I saw Christina go to Grandpa and get on his
lap.  She was giving him titty as we disappeared out of sight, and I
knew they would both enjoy their playtime.
     That irrepressible craving in my throat made introductory play
impossible.  Daddy and Mommy were still holding hands when I
unzipped Daddy's pants and went down on him as they watched.
     "Not your run-of-the-mill family reunion," I heard Darlene
observe.  "Do you love her, Jonathan?"
     "I love her very much, Darlene."
     I heard a rustle of clothing as Mommy shucked her dress, and I
felt her legs slide over me as she straddled my shoulders.  They
were kissing passionately above me.  Daddy's prick swelled and
lengthened in my mouth.  I kept it there and sucked while I worked
his pants loose and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and
pulled his shoes off awkwardly, still kissing Mommy and still
getting his dick sucked.  I got his socks off, and Mommy got his
shirt off.
     She sucked his titties and hugged his magnificent body, and I
hugged his legs and deep throated him.  When his big tube of meat
first went down my throat, all tension left me.  I've always been
surprised at how much of what we think is spiritual anxiety is
resolved by liberation from crass physical tension.  No amount of
emotional rending of ourselves in our family encounter group could
have done for us what open sexual intimacy was doing for us.


     My throat's hunger eventually satisfied, I sank down and kissed
my daddy's legs.  I felt my mother move farther over me, and she and
Daddy renewed a naked embrace that had started two decades earlier.
Her sexy legs rubbed the sides of my face as she hunched against
Daddy's ever-hard prick.
     I pushed my head back between Mommy's pretty legs, and she
opened them so I could root up in her crotch.  I had parental love
aplenty now.  I held on to the back of Daddy's leg with one hand to
keep from falling backwards and felt Mommy's leg with the other
hand.  She developed a rowing motion that allowed her to wipe her
cunt, crotch, and ass in my face on the back-and-down stroke and
work herself against Daddy's big club on the forward-and-up stroke.
     She stood still and let me suck while they held each other
above me and kissed.  Long, deep kisses between my mother and father
locked in each other's arms.  A daughter's repressed dream now real.
I looked up my mother's back, loving her lewdness as I had loved it
the first time I saw it in that New Orleans hotel.  I thought for a
second I smelled gumbo again as I had then.
     I loved the slight inward turn of Mom's lower back, the gentle
valley which blended into the outward turn of her upper back, the
hypnotic swaying to and fro of her hair as she kissed Daddy and
rubbed mother sex in my mouth.  I watched Daddy's hands roam over
her sexy back and her rounded hips.  He grasped her cheeks and spread
them for me, and I went up with tongue pointed to service my mother's
pink little asshole.
     Her anus flinched and puckered when my tongue touched it.  I
licked her asshole and tasted its distinctive taste.  She was able
to relax, and I was able to insert my tongue up her rectum.  I heard
a gasp from up above and wriggled my tongue as much as possible in
my mother's corridor.  Daddy loosened his grip on the cheeks of her
ass and squeezed my face with them.  He opened and shut them on my
face as I sucked and tongued Mommy's beautiful, sexy ass.
     When you suck asshole long enough, there comes a point at which
you are abruptly taken up in a rush of consuming lust.  It comes upon
you without warning.  You're sucking and feeling and tonguing and
licking and looking and enhancing your pleasure by thinking about
what you're doing, and WHAM!  In an unexpected twinkling of an eye,
you are suddenly assaulted by a flash flood of lust that lurches
through your loins and pervades your entire body.
     It's the closest things to instantaneous orgasm you can have
without having one.  I went nuts between Mom's asscheeks.  The woman
with the sexiest, lewdest body I've ever lusted on must have
expected it, having the range of experience she had, because she
knew what to do.  She went back to being Darlene in my mind, since
what she did next wasn't all that motherly.
     Daddy got momentarily out of the way when the womanquake hit.
Darlene bent over and reached between her legs and grasped me around
the back of my head.  She ass fucked me in the mouth.  My hands went
all over her.  I couldn't feel fast enough and sensually enough at
the same time.  Darlene, my beautiful, tempestuous whore-mother
fucked rapaciously and I sucked wildly at her shitpit.
     She lowered us down to the plush carpet to keep from breaking
my neck, and I felt my head sink into a pillow Daddy had wisely
provided when he saw what was happening to his wife and daughter.
Mom sat on my mouth and moved seductively as I continued my
not-so-graceful ravenous feeding frenzy.
     My hands couldn't make up their minds.  They felt Mom's
licentious body as she moved, they found her legs and pulled her
down harder on my face, they squeezed my tits, they clawed at my mad
pussy and slapped it.  I was jerking all over in a sex fit and could
find no release.
     My parents in their wisdom knew what to do.  Mom grabbed my
breasts and twisted and squeezed hard while Daddy pried my hands
away from my cunt and held them down as he rammed into me with all
his powerful thrust.  He fucked me hard.  Hard, hard, harder!  He
ravished my applauding cunt while keeping my dangerous hands pinned
to the floor.  Mom twisted and squeezed my breasts roughly and
ground herself into my face and mouth.
     We all three cum at the same time, my mouth sucking Mom's cum
into itself hungrily and my cunt sucking Daddy's cum into itself
with an abnormal neediness not known among mortals or gods.  We were
a trine of demented demons lost in a boiling cauldron of steaming lust.
     We went at it forever, the three of us screaming animals in the
throes of mind-blowing rapture humans are ill-designed to withstand.
Our coasting down was a never-ending tough withdrawal period
punctuated by aftershocks that threatened to shatter us.  Daddy
lurched and spurted again, and I responded by another wave of deep
vaginal orgasm which tossed me about like Legion.  My jerking face
sent Mom off again, and I sucked in another mouthful and drank it.
     Daddy was the first to collapse.  Drained of juice, he jerked
from dry orgasmic aftershocks when he fell by the wayside.  Mom lay
herself down on my body and sucked Daddy's cum out of my cunt as I
wrapped my legs around her head, my arms around her body, and
cleaned her gently with my tongue.

     Christina strolled through the door, full of energy, and stood
midst the orgiastic aftermath.  "Any leftovers?"
     My mouth and pussy were satiated, as was my throat.  Darlene's
pussy and asshole had been used and cleaned, and her mouth was full
of daughter fuck and daddy cum.  Daddy's dick was taking a nap after
its valiant performance down my throat and up my cunt.
     "Daddy's mouth," I reported.  "Everything else in the room has
temporarily retired.  What happened to Mr. Atkins?"
     "Poor old fellow.  He kissed me all over.  Then he was lying
flat of his back on the floor, and I walked over and put my foot in
his face, and he cum in his pants.  He went home."
     She walked over to Daddy and looked down at him.  "Hi, Daddy."
     "Your sister anesthetized my penis."
     "Wanna suck some daughter fuck?"
     He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out.  Christina stood
astride his face and lowered herself slowly down to his waiting
mouth.  She closed her legs over his face and rode at a fast trot.
Daddy ran his hands over those goddess legs and hips and up his
daughter's back.   Christina spread her legs and rested her wrists
on her knees.  With her feet beside his face and her legs bent out
over him, she looked for all the world like a beautiful human frog
sitting comfortably on her lily pad ready to jump.  She had to
stretch her neck and bow it slightly to look down and watch him
lick, and something about that picture made it stick in my mind to
this very day.


     "Lick, Daddy."
     Oh, God, there she went with the words that drive me crazy and
send men into orbit.  Unconsciously, I had adopted many of her
strange expressions, but they always sounded sexier when Christina
used them.
     "Suck daughter fuck, Daddy."
     Never spoken harshly, never an amateurish attempt to make it
sound nasty, never melodramatic or artificial, Christina would
simply say the words in that boudoir velvet voice and send chills up
my spine and a tingling through my loins.
     "Incestuous lust in your mouth from your sexy daughter fuck
fuck fucking in your mouth mouth mouth."
     God, that voice.  You could cultivate orchids in it.  If
Christina spoke to a potato, a cook would have only to mash it and
serve it.
     "Mushy mushy gooey gooey girl fuck slime."
     On the other hand, her brain's verbal facility was sometimes
the unwitting fool of her pussy, a relay station that did the best
it could to translate primeval messages from her cave into words
simulating real language.  Still, what she said had a certain
primitive if arcane logic, don't you think?
     "Hunh hunh hunh fuck, hunh hunh hunh fuck, hunh hunh hunh
fuck."
     A prehistoric cadence which archaeologists found inscribed on a
clay phallus twenty thousand years old.  Some scholars believe
extraterrestrials introduced the meter to the planet.  Others are
convinced the beat and the phallus on which it was etched are unique
to Earth and its creatures.
     "Ohhh, shit my fuck!  Aieeee, Daddieee!  Sweet cumming Jesus my
sweat cum fuck eat sex spit slime goo fuck."
     Most definitively unique to our species.  A later evolutionary
development, I believe, when the human brain passed from preverbal
to inchoate speech patterns.  Early attempts to articulate orgasmic
convulsion have never really been improved upon in spite of sincere
efforts of writers and linguists through the ages of written and
oral history.
     Christina thrashed and writhed and screamed and moaned in the
desultory drama of her sexual seizure.  Rendered completely
inarticulate now, she babbled in indecipherable noises of exotic
tongues never heard in this galaxy.  At the end, she just sat
slumped over on Daddy's face, involuntary tremors convulsing her
randomly in aberrant paroxysms as though impish demons were smiting
her and darting away.
     When Daddy lay her backwards on his body, I beheld the
awe-inspiring resilience of the male apparatus.  So did my mother
who had been watching from her sticky vantage point on my Mound of
Venus where her face had been resting.
     She crawled off me and toward the beacon of my father's
lighthouse.  Christina, her face upside down on Daddy's belly, must
have seen a most peculiar vision in her delirium, for Darlene
straddled the redolent tower of love which leaned nonchalantly
against her daughter's forehead.
     I crawled toward their junction and viewed the scene in
close-up from the backside.  It was a weird stroboscopic effect that
was produced by my mother's up and down movements on Daddy's erect
cock as they fucked in their daughter's faces.  When Mom went up, I
peered briefly into the inverted eyes of my sister until Mom's
descending ass and cunt momentarily cut off the view.
     Too long at that causes eccentric discharges of neurons across
the brain, a waking nightmare of upside down eyes, penises, mother
organs and father symbols, a veritable kaleidoscope of distorted
percepts.  When these are mixed with the human brain's inherent
attempt to synthesize its experiences into a coherent understanding,
the result is a frightening symbolism of psychosis.
     Christina and I must both have feared mental derangement from
it, for we moved at the same time to participate in the parental
coupling.  Turning our heads sideways, we met face to face with our
mouths forming soft braces at the base of our father's maleness.
     Fearing she would tamp her daughters flat from her pile driving
action, our mother found a pace and force that contributed pure
sexual delight to all four of us.  As Christina and I tried to kiss
and tongue each other's mouths around Father Lingam, Mother Yoni
descended and sandwiched our faces in the squishy parental union of
genitalia which had created us.  The symbolism augmented the
carnality, and Christina and I masturbated as Mommy and Daddy fucked
on our sucking faces.
     Myth, taboo, totem, and archetype came together in our ancient
souls, and we partook of each other in a family ritual that seemed
itself older than dawn.  I pictured myself in a mountain cave of
prehistory safe from predators engaging in a familial tribal
ceremonial which gave honor to the gods, themselves incestuous and
concupiscent.  The gods and goddesses of reproduction, of fertility,
of male and female principle, were surely as much the deities of
humans as of crops, and our union was deified by principalities of
nature older by millennia than any god known in written history.
     Besides all that, we cum all over the place, Christina and I
competing for mother fuck and daddy cream while being bashed into
near senselessness.
     It was a scene -- nay, a sacred pagan sacrament -- we would
repeat many times in the years to come, for we had bonded that night
and vowed our union would never split asunder no matter what befell
us.  We were more than a family in a modern world, a mere
sociological institution sanctioned by the state.  No, we were an
ancient tribe, a people blessed and sanctified by Nature Herself,
fused inseparably into a unit that would withstand the attempts by
man and God to sunder it.
     That is to say, we were the cummingest goddamned family that
ever lived and intended to stay that way.
     Ricky Alvarez, doctor of sociology, called me one night with a
finely tuned argument for letting him come over and fuck me and
Christina and Darlene.  He pointed to a fact of anthropology which
the family took seriously:  exclusive tribes that did not interfuck
with outsiders had always become extinct.
     We decided to include selected others in our activities while
maintaining our core commitment to the tribe of Barrett and Maynard.
We made a list and began immediately.

--end Chapter 12--