15 Erotic Stories BUNDLE: Huge Collection of Individually Sold Short Sex Stories (33 page)

“We all leaned forward to hear her quiet voice,” Angie said, “as she explained how a girl could use her hands, her lips, her breasts (though none of us had any yet) and her ass to satisfy a man, to make the white stuff shoot from the end of a man’s penis and make him happy. She said once she had made her papa understand that she wanted him to be happy and that she was proud to finally be more than just an empty mouth to feed, that her papa had become almost normal. She also said blushingly, that it helped to keep her brothers in line too. I looked around me and saw that very few of the other girls were shocked, that they seemed to find this a perfectly sensible solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem. I made up my mind.”

Angie still refused to look at Brad, though no trace of tears appeared on her face. “I went to the village pump and got extra water to bathe with after school was out, and I went home and washed myself all over. When my papa and brothers came home, I had supper ready for them to eat, and water for them to wash with even though it was only Wednesday. I lay on my pallet in my nightshirt until my brothers slept.

Papa thought I was asleep too, so he went to his own pallet after washing. He wore only a pair of the loose white linen pants that I had washed for him when I got home from the mission school. He sat for a while and lay down on his mat, and I very quietly went to him. I stood before him as he lay there, and I shrugged the nightshirt from my shoulders. He looked at me, completely at a loss for words.”

Angie again looked at him again. “That night I learned what it was like to suck a cock, and to feel the warmth of sticky cum in my mouth. I also learned what a joy it was to be able to bring peace and happiness to a man who had so little. At first he was consumed with guilt, but I told him what Maria had said about keeping her hymen intact and remaining a virgin. I never slept alone in that hovel again, and my Papa didn’t cry any more. I learned that first winter that after the first few times, it doesn’t hurt any more to have a cock in your ass. I also learned that my brothers hurt from the same need of a woman’s touch. I remember that winter as the most joyous time of my life. My papa and my brothers sang to me and treated me like a queen. We had no more to eat, and no luxuries at all, but we were happy and we were together. We lived like that until the hurricane took all three of them the same day.”

Her eyes finally filled with tears as she remembered the death of her family. “I am not ashamed of what I did,” she said, “I loved my papa and my brothers and I made them happy, I kept myself from being their burden to carry and became the joy of their lives.” She wiped away her tears. “When I was adopted by the Andersons, wealthy farmers in the Mississippi Delta, I had more than I ever dreamed I would have…but a year later Mrs. Anderson died and Mr. Anderson had a mild stroke. I cared for him until he died. I sold what was left after his medical expenses and came to school here. There will just be enough left for me to live until I find a decent job. It won’t be much, but I can get by.”

“Brad,” she said, “there’s no way I can marry you and fit in with your parents and the lifestyle you’ve had all your life. I’ve blown half your fraternity brothers. I’m not ashamed of living half my life in an incestuous relationship with my father and brothers. I’m proud of what I did, and I’m not going to hide from it or pretend it didn’t happen. Imagine what’s going to happen when your parents or your sisters find out! There’s no way I’m going to marry you and destroy what you have with your own family.”

Brad knew she spoke the truth. His mother would hemorrhage at simply hearing Angie’s story. His father would disown him. “We can leave” he said, “go away to California or Utah or somewhere.” “Brad,” she said, “haven’t you figured out by now that in the thousands of years of civilization by man the only thing we truly know for sure is that family is
everything
?” It was thirty years before he saw her again.

Brad Hawkins was lying on the beach with a tropical drink in his hand. It wasn’t his first. He reflected that he was probably headed for a serious alcohol problem…but it wasn’t really that important anymore was it? Ten months before a giant tornado had struck his home in Mississippi before going on into Alabama and Georgia to ruin more lives. When it left, it had taken his wife and two daughters, his parents, and his only living sister with it.

There had been nothing left, his business, his home, his parents’ home where his family had lived for over a hundred years, and everything he had known since his childhood was gone. He lived in an agony of guilt in the FEMA trailer they had placed on his property for a couple of months before the insurance check finally arrived. He had been on a business trip in Atlanta when the tornado struck. His entire family was at his parents’ house for a barbecue when the tornado struck out of nowhere. Their remains had been found in his dad’s storm cellar.

After the funeral expenses and the sale of the lands left to him, Brad was a millionaire several times over. He didn’t care. He drowned his feelings of guilt in oceans of Crown Royal one afternoon and he’d awakened to find himself in Destin, Florida. He’d never left. There was nothing at home for him, not a thing from his past to take him back at all.

He finished off the colorful drink and signaled to the sweet young bikini clad waitress for another. “Brad!” he reflexively looked up at the sound of his name. He couldn’t find the source of the voice, though for a moment it sounded familiar. A young man in his late twenties came running up from the beach, bending over to pick up a beach towel right in front of him. The young man looked familiar.

The faint smell of a perfume made from jasmine wafted past his nose. Brad looked inside the drink in his hand and sniffed it. This was like one of those movies where everything came back to the guy with amnesia. “Brad!” Damn it, he
knew
that voice. He turned to see a well- tanned woman of about his own age reach for the familiar man. She was dressed all in white, with a large white sun hat and dark glasses. There was no mistaking that face, and now he knew where he knew the voice from. The last thing he heard before he passed out was that same voice saying “watch me.”

When he awakened he was staring up into his own face, even though it was a younger version,
it was his own face.
Angie knelt with them, holding his hand as the young man tilted his head up to give him the lukewarm water brought by the anxious young waitress. “Angie?” he asked. Tears were in her eyes as she nodded. “What…” he started. She silenced him with a touch of her forefinger and said, “You shouldn’t talk right now. You’re dehydrated, you’ve had way too much to drink, and I believe you’ve just had a terrible shock.”

“We can get Mr. Hawkins back to his room” the waitress said, and we’ll have the hotel doctor come by and check him over. She stood aside as two young giants helped him to his feet. “I’m ok guys, but thanks.” “They have to at least go with you Mr. Hawkins, it’s hotel policy” she told him. “I’ll come with you Brad” Angie said. She kissed the young man’s cheek and told him she’d meet him later. She patted his shoulder “I know, you have questions” she said, “I’ll explain to you later, at dinner.”

Brad entered his room with Angie close behind him. “This is beautiful” she said “and so big”, taking off her hat. The air conditioning felt wonderful after the heat of the beach. “Is your family here with you?” she asked. For the first time since the funerals, he broke down and cried like a baby.

“And there was nothing left?” she asked him quietly. He nodded, “absolutely nothing. Almost fifty years of my life, and all I have is six tombstones to show for it.” He reached for the fresh bottle of Crown Royal on the coffee table before him. “Would you like a drink?” he asked. “Brad, that’s not going to bring then back” she said. He set the bottle back on the coffee table, “I know, and it really doesn’t help the hurt very much either.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I had a son?” he asked. She hung her head, not wanting to look him in the face. “I was wrong” she said, “but I couldn’t tell you.” “You were so young, so proud” she sniffed and touched her handkerchief to her eyes. “When you spoke of your home, your family, and going back to the life you had planned there. There was no room for me, no room for a child. I couldn’t bear the thought of you giving that life up to run away with me, away from the roots you held so dear.” He reached for her, to comfort her, but she held him back. “And I was furious with you because you wouldn’t” she laughed through her tears.

He laughed with her. “Life was so simple then” he said. “Everything was either black or white, no need to complicate things by adding the grays of reality.” We could have run away, you from the hardness of your life, me from the responsibilities I had inherited. “I’m so sorry” he said, but you had to have known I would have helped if you’d just told me.” “You’re still sweet” she touched his face, “but by the time I had Brad I had a plan and enough anger and determination to see it through.”

They spoke for hours, as twilight fell and they watched it from the deck of the penthouse suite. “Oh my God,” she said, “I’ve got to meet Brad for dinner. I promised to explain to him…I know he knows…you look too much alike!” He offered to go with her, but she said she thought this would be something she could do better alone. She promised to come back as soon as she could. He stood and held her “You’ve got to promise I can meet him, offer him some kind of explanation.” She kissed him softly and he was transported back to Ole Miss, to the Grove where she’d kissed him the first time. The shock went through both of them. She pulled back, surprised, and then promised she would try to set something up. When she left, he headed for a long soak and a shave. He was whistling.

She returned about eleven o’clock. Brad had had to quickly run to the Silver Sands Factory outlet in Sandestin to buy some clothes that fit. His liquid diet and lack of interest in eating had at least burned off some of the middle aged lard he had added over the years. He had nothing that fit him at all. He met her dressed business casual, and all in all he looked better than he had in years. He felt better than he had since the tornado.

She looked approvingly at him as she entered the penthouse. “There will be some rough going over the next few days,” she said, “but he’ll come around. He’s a good man.” Brad poured a stem of champagne for her and they went out on the patio deck in the moonlight. “It was still hard” she said. “I’d never told him anything about you except that I’d loved you.” “No husband?”, he asked, looking at her bare ring finger. “No husband, but many men” she laughed. “I’ve never loved any man but you and my papa and brothers” she said, gazing at him over the champagne glass. She walked to him and kissed him, and they were swamped with emotion. Her nipples hardened and showed through the white dress. He grew an erection harder than he’d known in years.

She backed away, “This is going too fast” she said. He stepped forward. “Angie, we’re almost fifty years old, nothing is fast any more. I won’t lie to you, I loved my wife. I still miss her so much it hurts every single day. I never forgot you though, and she knew it. She came to accept you as an invisible part of our marriage, even though it wasn’t fair to her.” He kissed her again, slowly, tasting the same woman he’d known thirty years before, remembering her touch, her taste, her heat. “Brad, I haven’t bathed, I’m wearing the same dress I’ve had on all day…” He silenced her the only way he could.

He carried her in his arms over to the huge hot tub on the patio deck. When he set her down, she looked into the tub. “Turn the bubbles on” she said. When he turned back from his chore she was standing nude in the moonlight. Her long dark hair was casually pushed to one side, hanging over one of her breasts. Her belly was hard and flat in the moonlight, and her dark eyes shone.

She sat before him on the edge of the tub, lifting one of her heels up beside her ass. “Remember this?” she asked as she lifted two fingers to her mouth. He literally shivered as he remembered the long ago day when he’d first seen her do this. “Watch me” she said. As she began to toy with her bald pussy, he ripped off his brand new clothes and threw them on the deck. She slid back in the now rapidly bubbling water, beckoning him to follow.

When he stood inside the tub she launched herself at his swollen member, taking it down to the root. He wrapped his hands in her hair and hung on as best he could. She never came up for air, she never backed off his cock an inch. Her tongue and her throat muscles coaxed him to an unbelievable release. Months of stored up cum boiled into her throat but she stayed with him, holding his balls in both hands.

They drained the bottle of champagne and talked of old times, comfortable with each other. So much had passed them by, but it seemed as if they had always been together. She could still make his blood race, and frequently during their nightlong conversation they had to stop talking and fuck. She couldn’t keep her hands or mouth off his penis for more than a few minutes at a time, and he couldn’t stop fondling her breasts or running his finger between her legs. When the sun crept over the horizon, it found them in his plush king sized bed, his cock deep inside her ass. She was moaning his name, fingers grasping at the sheets, begging him to cum in her tight hole. She came with him, and he lay on top of her, softening but still inside. He started to get off of her, but she begged him to stay. They fell asleep, still connected, exhausted and smiling.

He awakened to the aroma of fresh coffee and salt air. He could hear the gulls cry, so he knew Angie was on the patio deck. He quickly padded naked to the shower. He shaved and put on new clothes…the man he saw in the mirror in no way resembled the sad drunk he had awakened to the day before. He found Angie sitting on a chaise outside, gazing at the clear emerald green waters of the Gulf of Mexico, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee.

She smiled at him and he bent to kiss her. It was a soft loving kiss that spoke volumes to her. “Sit down with me my darling” she said. He sat and she poured him a mug of the coffee from a carafe on the table beside her. He breathed deeply over the mug, the coffee fine and strong. They sat for a long time listening to the gulls as they wheeled overhead and watched the waves crashing on the beach. “It is so peaceful here” she said. “I love it,” Brad told her, “and I love you.” His hand reached out to hers. She set her mug down on the table and took both his hands in hers. She bent close to him, “Brad, don’t start making plans or promises. I know how we parted, and I don’t feel any different right now than I did then. A long time has passed and we are not the same, no matter how familiar last night felt.”