Ave Maria Isles

Chapter 1 Relocation

     “The Pryor Family is the winner,” announced Father Nolan to the packed gymnasium.  I wasn’t about to argue.  Ed Pryor had just about twisted my arm off before I slapped the mat three times to signal my submission.  What was supposed to be a friendly demonstration of my proposed high school wrestling program had turned out to be something far more serious as Ed had come after me like we were gold medal finalists in the Olympics. 

     I was feeling embarrassed and humiliated plus pissed as I listen to Father Nolan declare the winner.  I was surprised he said Pryor Family; the rest of Ed’s brood wasn’t competing although they were all seated in the stands watching me be embarrassed.  But before I get into what happened, I better bring the reader up to speed.  There is a story behind my submission and it’s not a pretty one.

      My name is Bill Clausen and I’m the thirty eight year old husband of Emily, who’s thirty seven.  We’ve got three children; Megan sixteen, Christine, fifteen and Josh fourteen,  We’d only planned to have two but decided to make one more try because we wanted a boy.  That’s the one topic where Emily and I disagreed with the church’s teaching.  There was no way I wanted as many kids as my wife could pump out before it broke her health and ruined her body.   I consider myself a good catholic but some things are just common sense.  Plus, the church wasn’t going to put braces on their teeth or pay their college tuition.

     Last year, I cashed out of the startup software firm I helped found in Silicon Valley.  Don’t get the wrong idea.  I’m not super rich but I do have enough to retire and work at whatever makes me happy.

     Emily and I are practicing Roman Catholics; both reared in the holy mother church.  Emily is the more devout.  Her brother is a priest and an uncle is the bishop of the diocese of Nashville.  We found ourselves disturbed by the prevalence of sex, drugs, and violence in Walnut Creek and in particular the school system.  One year ago, a girl and boy in Josh’s middle school overdosed on heroin.  Megan’s high school had an outbreak of syphilis. 

     Emily was the one who first learned of Ave Maria Isles, a secure, gated community on Florida’s gold coast.  Their Web site advertised it as the perfect environment for a growing Catholic family.  Catholic schools and churches were located inside the secure perimeter.  There was even a well financed university that sought to combine excellence in both scholarship and faith.

     Leadership of the community was vested in the Celestine Brothers, a strict order of no nonsense priests complemented by an equally disciplined order of nuns.  You could not buy a Playboy magazine or rent a hardcore DVD in the Isles.  Cable television and Internet access were screened for salacious material.

      Emily considered it perfect.   I was less enthusiastic, being of the viewpoint that it is a diverse world out there and our children would have to deal with it sooner or later.  However, she seemed so taken with the idea I agreed to a visit.  After a full day of looking at reasonably priced well built homes, excellent schools, and first class recreational facilities including a tennis club and the three golf courses, I was sold too.  We went through an extensive vetting process intended to establish our bona fides as committed, faithful, and conscientious Catholics.  Father Bryan at Walnut Creek’s Our Lady of Christ church had to write a glowing recommendation for us to be accepted.

     Once we were vetted, we purchased a fifty five hundred square feet home on the periphery of one of the golf courses, sold our Walnut Creek home for a nice profit, and relocated as soon as school let out.  The home at 103 Christ’s Way had everything we wanted, including a pool and a gourmet kitchen.

      That brings me to the topic of scholastic wrestling.  I competed in high school and college and even the Olympics where I missed a bronze by a couple of points.  I truly loved the sport and my goal, now that I was financially independent, was to become a high school wrestling coach.  I felt it was a way to give something back for all the blessings I had received.  But when we arrived, I discovered wrestling was not offered by the high school.  You would have thought I would have asked but somehow I just assumed they did.  Assume, the word that makes an ass out of you and me was something my dad used to preach when I was a kid.

      When I pitched the idea of establishing a program to Father Nolan, principal of Ave Maria High, he was receptive especially when I indicated I was willing to coach the squad for minimum salary.  However, he did ask me to arrange an exhibition match for parents and students to educate them about the sport.

     “Wrestling is not popular in Southern schools, you’ll need to do a little marketing, Bill,” was how Father Nolan phrased it.

      Through the Isles’ community center skills database, I learned there was another resident, Edward Pryor, who had competed at Georgetown where he won several championships in the heavy weight division.  Ed turned out to be a bear of a man who stood six feet six inches and stayed in shape lifting weights and running.  Like me he was an avid golfer and had the time to play.  Ed was the lucky recipient of a monthly trust fund check.  He dabbled in day trading and managing some rental property in downtown Orlando; so he spent much of his time at home.

     I asked Ed if he would be interested in helping me establish the program and he readily agreed.  Luckily, the Pryor’s children matched ours in age and sex almost exactly.  Ed’s wife, Nora, hit it off with Emily and they became our first friends in the community.  They were among the earliest residents of Ave Maria Isles moving in when the place had more earth movers than people.  Ed and Nora were active in the community and members of the local advisory council.  Having Ed as a backer was a big plus.

     It was right after school started, that Emily mentioned something that shocked me.

      “Has Ed ever suggested wife swapping to you,” asked Emily one night after we’d got in bed?  She’d already surprised me by wearing a new night gown whose sheerness and slit sides got my attention.  I was smart enough to complement her and not be my usual dumb oaf and say something stupid like, “What happened to the flannel pajamas?”  She was also wearing perfume.  That was different.  However, whatever thoughts I had about coupling her vanished when she asked her question.

      “Of course not, why would he do that?” I said surprised the topic had come up.  Emily and I didn’t have that kind of marriage.  Infidelity on any kind was out of the question. 

      There had been one thing but I didn’t mention it.  Possibly, because at the time, I could bring myself to believe it happened.  Last week, Ed and I were watching the kids horse around in the pool.   His oldest, Wendy is Megan’s age and at one point, she climbed into his lap, plopping her rear right down on his crotch.  Something I wouldn’t have allowed Megan or Christine to do.  While I don’t harbor sexual feelings toward my girls, there are certain practices every father should avoid.  Having your sixteen year old’s bottom in contact with your manhood is one of them.

     Plus Megan and Wendy’s bathing suits don’t leave much to the imagination.  I don’t mean they’re one of those thongs were their entire bottom is showing.  I’m just saying that you can see a lot of skin.  I’ve complained to Emily but she said that all the girls wear them and Megan’s is more modest than average.

     Ed and I had played a full thirty six holes in the hot Florida sun and I was bushed.  I was sitting there half asleep when I noticed through half closed eyes that Wendy was performing a slight rocking motion.  She was grinding her bottom against his groin and Ed was allowing it.   In fact they were looking directly as each other and there was a big grin on Wendy’s face.  That went on for a few minutes.  When she jumped up to rejoin the others, Ed had a sizeable erection.  And he couldn’t help notice that I noticed.

      “Wendy’s got the body of a woman but still the mind of a child,” said Ed rubbing his crotch.  “Your Megan’s really blossomed.   At her age, 34C is going to lead to a serious pair of knockers in a couple of years.  But Christine got a terrific set of boobs too.  Of course, they gets them from Emily, you lucky bastard.  I’m tittie deprived.  Nora’s a B cup lite.”

     I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything.  The fact he knew my daughters’ bra size and was willing to mention it to me blew my mind.  When I got home, I snuck into the laundry room.  Luckily, Emily had a load of delicates in the wash.  I picked through the wet clothes until I found what I was looking for.  Megan’s bra tag read 34C and Emily’s 36D.  Christine, at 34C was a surprise; but not really when I thought about it.  My second child was on her way to being a real heart breaker.   She already had her Mom’s curvaceous figure and was attracting attention from older boys that made me worry; especially when she seemed to go out of her way to bring it on.

     Confirming the accuracy of Ed’s factoids made me wonder if I was just naïve.  I admit that on more than one occasion, I’d found myself staring at my daughter’s bodies.  Their tendency to walk around in their bra and panty or in short nightgowns made me uncomfortable.  I’d asked Emily to speak to them about being more modest but she just laughed and accused me of being an old lecher.

     To my chagrin, Emily wasn’t averse to allowing Joshua see her in her undies.  My son is a normal fourteen year old, the age of raging hormones and a penis that achieves an erection over anything female.  I’d noticed him staring hard at his mother’s panty clad bottom when she bent over to pick up something off the kitchen floor.  They were made of a sheer material and Emily’s vulva was on display.

     That brought on an awkward father and son talk where I discovered my boy had a difficult time understanding it was against the teachings of the church to lust after his mother and sisters who according to Joshua were, “hot as a firecracker”.   His response set me back.  “If God didn’t want me to do it, why did he make them so damn sexy?”

     I ended our conversation with a warning about how I would react if I ever caught him stepping over the line and laying a hand on them.  Somehow I didn’t think I got through to him.

     With regard to Ed’s comments, of course I knew that Emily had large breasts.  I was all over them when we made love.  And she was very sensitive to my kissing and fondling them.  Nothing was wrong with that.  We were man and wife.

     But allowing your sixteen year old daughter to sit in your lap and give you an erection then discussing your friend’s daughters’ breasts was another matter.   I decided to forget about the matter for the time being.  Maybe Ed was just having an off day or I misunderstood him.

     But Emily’s remark had reawakened my concerns.  Still, I decided not to over react like I usually do, especially when it comes to my family’s morals.  “No, he hasn’t.  Why do you ask?”

     “Nora and I had lunch together at her place today,” said Emily placing her head on my shoulder.  “We sampled a couple of bottles of excellent Australian pinot grigio.  The conversation got a little racy.”

     One of my wife’s few vices is wine.  She belonged to a wine club in Walnut Creek.  Sampling was a misnomer for emptying the bottle.  There were times when I thought all their talk about vintages, varietals, nose, bouquet, lace, etc, was just an excuse for her and her girl friends to get loaded.  Outside of the occasional beer after golf, I’m not much of a drinker.  I’m too health conscious to pollute my body with alcohol. 

      “Racy, how?” I asked wondering if there was a connection between the new gown and our conversation.  Her hand rested on my lower belly, inches from my manhood.  There are time I believe manipulating me is Emily’s hobby.  For all my bluff and hubris, I am forced to admit she calls most of the shots for the Clausens.

      “Mostly questions.  How’s your love life?  How often do you and Bill do it?  Have you ever tried S&M or anal?  And what did I think of open marriage?”

      “I hope you told her it was none of her business,” I said growing a little alarmed.  We’d never even discussed S&M let along tried it.

      “Well, not exactly, you know we don’t make love as often as we used to.  And we always do it the same way,” said Emily who to be honest was more open about sexual matters than I.  Sex is not something I can readily discuss with anyone including my own wife.  It was certainly not something we discussed in my home growing up.

      “You didn’t tell her that did you?” I asked feeling my ego being pricked.  Few men are willing to admit they’re not taking care of the wife in bed.

      “Why not?  It’s true,” said Emily sounding a tad resentful.

      “We’ve been married seventeen years.  It’s only natural that we slow down,” I said making an understatement.  We’d been more than slow lately.  I couldn’t recall the last time we made love.

      “She also asked me whether we made love before we were married,” said Emily.

      “What did you tell her?”

      “The truth, silly, why lie? In college, we screwed our brains out every afternoon in your apartment.    We did it twice the morning of the wedding.  She claims she and Ed still have an active love life,” said Emily sounding the slightest bit jealous.

      More manipulation, Emily had must maneuvered me to acknowledge that our sex life used to be more active.  The crazy thought occurred to me that maybe Emily was interested in spouse swapping.  “Did she ask if you were interested in swapping?”

     “No, not directly, she merely said that at some point in a marriage, the only way to retain an active sex life was to open it to others.  She also said that under certain circumstances it was sanctioned by the church.”

      “I seriously doubt the Roman Catholic church sanctions wife swapping under any conditions.  Maybe we should see less of the Pryors,” I said realizing I was in a no win situation and anxious to beat a retreat.

      “But they’ve been so nice to us.  I like Nora and our kids get along.   You and Ed are good friends.  Now I wish I hadn’t told you,” said Emily pouting.

     I realized I was perhaps reading too much into a conversation at an alcohol fueled lunch.  It was time to lighten up.  “So how did you leave it?  What nights do Ed and I swap wives?   I can hardly wait to get my hands on Nora’s B cup boobs.”  I rolled over and removed Emily’s breast from her gown and gave it a wet and noisy kiss.  Her nipple changed shape indicating she liked it or at least her boob did.

      “How did you know Nora was a B cup?” asked Emily placing her hand on the back of my head to press it against her breast.  One thing I had to admit was that Emily, when she wasn’t in her period, was always willing to have sex.  And back when we first got together, not even the menses kept her from performing.  I suppose most husband would consider me lucky but somehow it translated to stress for a spouse who had mostly lost interest.

     I’d seen Nora Pryor’s body in the brief bikini she wore around the pool.  She was a pretty woman who liked to flirt, especially with me.  I’d considered it harmless; but was now having second thoughts. “Just a guess, I’ve seen her in a bathing suit.”

     I exposed Emily’s other breast and kissed it.  My mouth and hands were very active, causing Emily to arch her back and sigh loudly, her way of signaling for me to keep going.

     I admit that in the last year or so, I’d turned Emily down more than she had me.  A few months ago, she showed me a vibrating dildo she’d purchased online.  On those nights when I begged off doing my husbandly duty, she retrieved the dildo from her nightstand and masturbated while I dosed off to the steady hum.  But tonight for a welcome change all the sex talk had gotten my mojo running and I was anxious to perform.

      “According to Nora, Ed is well endowed,” said Emily before pushing me away then throwing off the comforter and sliding down the bed.  Her change of position indicated we were going to have oral sex.  I’ve always considered myself lucky because Emily likes fellatio and doesn’t mind carrying it to its conclusion.  The fact I love or used to love cunnilingus makes us compatible in bed.

      I knew Emily had spoken the truth.  Ed and I had showered at the club’s locker room when we were meeting the wives for dinner.  Ed was well equipped although I didn’t think his was any bigger than mine.  He wasn’t circumcised.

      “Ed is bigger than average like me,” I said watching my wife lift my erect manhood with one hand then pass her tongue over my testicles.   “But he isn’t circumcised.”

      “Nora mentioned that.  I’ve never sucked an uncircumcised penis.  Have you measured each other,” asked Emily stroking me as she licked my testicles.  My wife can be a tease in bed which I find exciting.

      Her statement brought back a childhood memory.  When I was fifteen, my next door neighbor, Tommy Wickes, and I had masturbated each other then measured our penises with a measuring tape he’d taken from his Mom’s sewing kit.  It was one of my homosexual experiences that I keep locked away in my memory.  Still, the thought of Ed and I measuring each other seemed so outlandish it brought a smile to my face.  “No. just an observation in a well lighted men’s locker room,” I said.

      “I bet his balls aren’t as big,” said Emily taking one of my testicles in her mouth and sucking it.  She was right about that.  My balls are oversized and they reside in a sack that hangs down further than most. 

      It was during the oral part of the sex that Emily entered new territory.  She lifted my legs and licked my anus.  I instinctively cooperated by grabbing my calves and pulling my knees to my chest.  I’m still pretty flexible for a man my age.

     Emily’s anal foray caused me to gasp with pleasure.  Licked is not descriptive.  She surrounded my sphincter with her lips and sucked on my pucker as she forced the tip of her tongue through the opening.  I can’t say it didn’t feel great.  But coming after the discussion of wife swapping and my observation of Ed’s lustful encounter with his eldest daughter, I found it disquieting.  But that was later.  While Emily’s tongue was exploring my rectum, I laid there and enjoyed it.

      After a while, she went back to sucking my penis but at some point, she inserted her fingers in my bottom and stroked my prostate.  My wife is a surgical nurse by profession.  She knows the human body better than me.  Still, my sphincter was virgin territory as far as Emily and I were concerned.  Anal sex had never come up in our seventeen years of marriage. 

     Once Emily had me hard as a rock and about to explode, it was my turn to perform orally. 

     “Do my bottom, too,” said Emily turning onto her back before lifting and bending her legs to where her knees rested on her shoulders.  A regimen of astanga yoga and pilates keeps my wife strong, flexible, and trim.  Megan and Christine inherit their good figures from their Mother who can still turn heads.

      My mouth lost its anal virginity as I imitated Emily and sent my tongue into an area that Natural Law possibly forbade.  I couldn’t recall any specific church teaching about anal sex.  But I didn’t think it was condoned or encouraged nor could I imagine my confessing to Father Marquez that my tongue had explored the confines of my wife’s rectum. 

      Only the slightest funky smell emanated from Emily’s brown pucker.  I felt the ring of muscle twitch as I placed my lips around her sphincter and imitated Emily’s pulsating suck and relax motion.

      Emily’s reaction was immediate and obscene.  “Oh fuck that feels good, Bill.  Suck on my hole as you tongue fuck it.”

     After a decent interval of thrusting my tongue into her anus causing Emily to moan like a cow in heat, I transferred my oral attention to her vulva. 

      Emily wasn’t shy about verbalizing what she wanted me to do.  “Stick two fingers in my ass while you suck my clit and tongue my pussy.”  The thought that her new found desire for anal sex originated with Nora Pryor came to mind as I inserted two saliva coated fingers in her rectum.  I was surprised by how tightly her muscles gripped them.  Her rectal muscles pulsed in the type of pre-orgasmic muscle reaction I usually associate with her vagina.

      Emily screamed, “Shit, fucking shit,” in a voice so loud I was concerned it would wake the kids. It was later that I realized it was the first time I had ever heard my wife pronounce the word “shit”.  We were definitely breaking new ground.

     It wasn’t long before she orgasmed, my cue for penetration.  However she preempted my taking our usual missionary position. “I want on top tonight,” said Emily pushing me on my back and mounting me, another surprise in an already surprising evening.  She began a rapid rocking motion driving me deep in her vagina as she ground her clit against my pubic bone.  When she leaned back, she slapped her vulva hard and yelled, “bad pussy.”

     I hadn’t seen her that aroused since we first had sex.  Maybe I had never seen her that worked up.  She was covered in sweat and there was a wild look in her eyes.  Her fingers were pinching and twisting her nipples.

     For my part, there was a disconnect between my rationale mind and my lust that permitted me to put off processing that my wife was acting like a out of control whore.  Later, after I had time to think seriously about what happened, I became more concerned.  But I have to admit that during the act itself, I was more turned on than I had been in years.

     When Emily demanded, “Pinch my nipples hard.  Hurt my tits,” it was one more departure from the norm.  I’d always performed the role of a gentle, thoughtful lover.  We’d taken pride in the respectful manner we have intercourse.  The idea of introducing pain and suffering into our love making was not rational but it made my cock harder if that was possible.  I grabbed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger and twisted them.

     Emily gasped with pain but it was what she wanted.  “Oh shit, that hurts good.  That’s right, Bill, Honey.  Make your slut wife beg you to stop,” whispered Emily.  She was acting the part of a foul mouthed woman I was having a hard time recognizing.  She’d never demanded I hurt her during intercourse and using bad language wasn’t part of our love life.  But I was caught up in the moment.  I have strong hands and I pressed down hard and turned my wrist.

     It was then I did something I later apologized for.  I placed my hands on the side of her face and pulled her toward me using my thumbs to force her mouth open.  I wasn’t exactly gentle about it either.  When her open mouth was practically touching mine, I spit in my wife’s mouth.  The amazing part was that it turned her on more if that was possible.  I squeezed her jaw shut and demanded, “Swallow it, you fucking whore.”

     Instead of getting mad and dismounting then ordering me to sleep in the guest bedroom, she swallowed my spit in a demonstrative fashion.  She opened her mouth like a five year old to show me she’d swallowed then cried, “Again,” as she placed her open mouth on mine.  I obliged her and we kept repeating the act until my mouth was dry.

     “I’m coming,” screamed Emily so loud I worried she would wake the neighbors and they would call the police.  I lost my self control as I pumped her so hard I worried she would bruise.

      “That was something,” I remarked once I got enough breath back to talk.

      “You’re not upset with me, are you?” asked Emily.

      “No, not at all, but if you keep this up, I’ll have to sound proof the bedroom,” I said hugging her to me.

      “So trying new things is all right with you,” asked Emily.

      It was time to be supportive.  Wives expect complements after going all out to please their husband.  “More than all right, you were incredible.”

      I rolled over to go to sleep then decided I needed to pee.  As I passed our bedroom door on the way to the john, I thought I heard a noise in the hallway.  I quietly opened the door.  The hall was empty.  When I glanced back at Emily, she was sprawled across the bed sound asleep.  In the moonlight I could see her pussy had that ravaged look.  There was a trickle of semen oozing from her vagina.  That gave me a feeling of satisfaction.

     I’m the kind of dad who checks up on his children even in the dead of night.  I had a feeling that Emily’s loud cries had drawn the children’s attention.  Invading our privacy was on the proscribed list and if one of my three had been listening at our door, I didn’t intend to ignore it.

      I moved quietly down the hall.   There was a light shinning at the bottom of Megan’s door.  Of our children, she’s the most curious and the one who at an early age has peppered her Mom with questions about where babies come from.

     I was about to open the door and deliver a lecture about respecting your parent’s privacy when I heard Josh’s voice.  What was he doing in Megan’s room?  I decided to listen.  I take the position that snooping on your kids is a parent’s right and duty.

     “Mom is such a slut.  She licked his asshole,” said Josh.

    I almost burst through the door but something held me back.

     “She said she was going to eat his butt and she did.  He licked hers, too.  That’s called rimming,” said Christine in the voice of the older, know it all sister.

     Christine must have overheard her mother talking to Nora Pryor.  Their conversation had my mind reeling.  I had a hard time believing it was my children calming discussing their parent’s intercourse.

     “Do girls expect a guy to do that?  Suppose Mom just took a big messy shit,” asked Josh. 

     “It’s gross but you do it anyway.  I bet Mom’s ass was nice and shiny when Dad was done,” said Christine.

     “It sounded like he fucked the shit out of Mom.  She needed it.  She’s been a real bitch lately,” said Megan.  “She raised holy hell with me when she caught me using her dildo without permission.”

     “Sounded like he did,” said Christine.  “She screamed so loud she probably woke the neighbors when she got off.”

     “Put that away, Joshua.  We’ve seen it before,” said Megan laughing.

     “No, do me like Mom did Dad.  I want to be trimmed,” said Josh.

     “That’s rimmed, stupid,” said Christine.

     “Do me and then I’ll do you,” said Josh.

     There was a moment’s hesitation during which I prayed my children would decide to go act properly but that didn’t happen.

     “No, you two rim me first,” said Megan.  “I’m the oldest.”

     To say I was astounded was an understatement.  While my kids didn’t exist in a vacuum, the casual way they were talking and acting left me dumbfounded.

      “Smells like poop,” said Josh.

      “Lick me clean or I won’t do you,” said Megan.

      “Here let me try, you wuss,” said Christine.

      “We should brush our teeth after we’re done,” said Josh.

      “Don’t be such a baby.  I think a little shit is a turn on,” said Christine.

      “How is it, Megan?” asked Josh.

      “Fucking wonderful, each of you stick one of your fingers in my ass,” said Megan.

      “Does it hurt,” asked Christine?

      “Sort of, but it feels good too.  Now I see why Mom was so eager to get Dad to rim her.  Put your fingers in further and move them back and forth as you lick my pussy,” said Megan.

      Things were quiet for a minute that was when I noticed I had a hard on.  Any intention I had of rushing in to confront my errant brood vanished.  I could just see them pointing to my groin as I lectured them.  To make matters worse, I couldn’t keep my hands off myself.  I began to slowly stroke my penis as I listened.  It wasn’t long before Megan climaxed.  I heard her groaning and moaning then it got quiet.

      “So how was it?” asked Christine.

      “Fucking incredible,” said Megan still breathing heavily.

      “I’m next.  Down, Josh,” said Christine.

      “You ass is even nastier, Chris,” said Joshua.  “You girls don’t wipe enough.”

      “Get used to it, my little shit licking brother.  Maybe Mom will let you rim her,” said Christine.

      “That would be so fucking hot,” said Joshua.  “I want to fuck my Mommy.”

      “I’ll suck your clit while Josh eats your asshole,” said Megan.

      “Am I doing it right,” asked Josh after a few seconds?

      “Do it the way Mrs. Pryor told Mom.  Put your mouth around my asshole and suck my hole while you stick your tongue up my butt,” said Christine.

      I stood leaning against the wall and stroking my cock as I envisioned what was going on.   Later, I felt guilty as hell about that; but what exactly was I supposed to do.  

     Christine climaxed in a matter of a few minutes. 

     “Well,” asked Megan?

     “It was great.  All I want now is for Dad to stick his cock in me and fuck me like he did Mom,” said Christine.

     “What about me?  I’ll fuck you,” said Josh.

     “Christine wants Kyle Leeds to be her first,” said Megan.

     “I want Dad first and then Kyle.  Doing both of them together would be incredible,” said Christine.

     “Does Kyle have a big cock like Dad and me,” asked Josh?

     “Sandy Leeds says her brother is huge.  She could barely walk the first time he fucked her,” said Christine.

     “How old is Kyle?” asked Megan.

     “Eighteen, Sandy says she will set me us for an NSA hookup with him next week,” said Christine.

     “My turn, one of you rims my ass while the other sucks my big cock,” said Josh.

     “All right, put this under your butt,” said Megan.  “It makes it easier to rim.”

     “Honestly, when are you girls going to let me fuck you?” asked Josh.

     “Never,” said Megan.

     “Who do you want to be your first, Meg,” asked Christine?

     “Daddy,” said Megan.

     The thought of incest was appalling but at the moment I was masturbating while listening to their incestuous acts.  I felt like a sicko.

     “And if he doesn’t want to,” asked Christine?

     “Mr. Pryor, Wendy says her dad wants to fuck me real bad,” said Megan.  “Maybe the next time I sleep over, he’ll do me.”

     “Leslie lets Mark fuck her anytime he wants,” said Josh.

     Mark was the Pryor’s son and Leslie their youngest daughter.  Mark and Josh were good friends.

     “Bullshit,” said Megan.

     “He showed me a video of him screwing her,” said Josh.  “He hid a mini cam in his room.  She sucked his cock then he fucked her dog style.  She was moaning and begging him to fuck her harder.”

     “Really,” asked Christine.

     “Yes, so you should be good sisters and let me screw you,” said Josh.

     “You’ll have to use a condom,” said Christine thoughtfully.

     “Mark will give me some.  So you’ll do it,” asked Joshua sounding excited at the prospect of incest.

     “Sure, why not; but no video, Leslie is an idiot,” said Christine.

     “I want to watch you two,” said Megan.

     “If I get enough condoms, can I fuck you too, Megan,” said Josh.

     “Maybe,” said Megan.  “Now shut up, Josh, and let us get you off.  It’s getting late.”

     I slowly crept down the hall with my head spinning and my hand working.  It only took a minute after I got in bed to blast another load.   After I wiped off the sheets, I lay there contemplating what I had just heard.  There was only one conclusion.  Sexually, my children were out of control.  It wasn’t supposed to be that way in Ave Maria Isles.

     I had no idea to do.  Maybe some form of family counseling would help; but I couldn’t imagine discussing what I had overheard with a counselor.

     I fell asleep and dreamed that Ed’s Mark and I were having intercourse with Leslie while Ed and Nora watched.   I found the dream very disturbing, especially the part where I sodomised Mark while he was inside his sister.  The only good thing about it was that none of my children were involved.  That I woke up with an erection I couldn’t ignore added to my disquiet.   It had been at least a decade since I ejaculated three times in a single night.