Magnus and His Family

Walter found his son sipping a cup of coffee when he stumbled downstairs to the kitchen the next morning.

In spite of Adele's blithe assurances, he wasn't at all sure that Curt would be okay with what had happened in his bedroom (

she is his girl, after all!

); but when Curt gave his father a broad and genial smile, he knew that everything was fine.

Walter got a cup of coffee for himself and sat down next to his son at the kitchen table.

"She's really something, isn't she, Dad?" Curt said softly.

"That she is, Curt. A wonderful young woman."

"I'm glad you had a nice time with her."

"It was more than 'nice,' Curt. It—it was . . . a revelation."

"What do you mean, exactly, Dad?"

Walter looked pensively at his son. "What happened last night showed me how much love there still is in me—and Adele gave me an outlet for that love. But no, that's not fair to her.

She

was the one who brought that love out; not just any girl could have done that."

"You're right about that, Dad. She's one of a kind."

It was only now that Adele, a bit stiff and sore, tramped into the room in her nightgown. She gave both men a hearty kiss on the mouth and said:

"What have you been talking about? Should my ears be burning?"

"Yes, they should be," Walter said—"only because you're a princess among women."

"Is that right?" she said. "Well, this princess is ravenous. Any chance of a big breakfast around here?"

"Yes, ma'am," both men said together as they leaped up and got to the task of preparing a lavish breakfast of eggs, ham, biscuits, and other comestibles for their enjoyment.

There was scarcely any need for the three of them to articulate the plans for the remaining three weeks of the visit. Adele slept alternately in Curt's and Walter's bed, and it became clear to her that both men yearned for intimacy every night they had her. For all the recency of her own deflowerment, she was quite accustomed to such a schedule, given her popularity with the men in Magnus's house, and she obligingly made herself available in whatever way each man wanted. But Walter and Curt were also careful to satisfy her wishes in turn.

About a week later, when she and Walter had had an initial and very intense coupling, Adele slipped out of bed and drifted out into the hallway. She made a quiet beeline for Curt's room. He was dozing placidly in his bed, and waked immediately when Adele knelt down next to him.

"Something wrong?" he said.

"Not at all," she replied with a smile. "I just think . . . you should join us."

His eyes gleamed. "I'd love to."

He got up quickly, stripping off his underwear as he followed Adele back to his father's bedroom. Walter was lying on his back, his thick member already getting hard again: he had a sense that something like this would happen. When Curt wandered into the room, he said calmly: "Hey, Dad."

Walter gazed at his son's impressive erection and said, "Hi, son."

With that, everyone got into bed. Adele lay on her side between the two men—Curt in front and Walter in back—as they made due obeisance to her heart-stopping desirability. They focused on her face, her bosom, her bottom, and her delta as they made clear how much they valued her presence and her femininity.

Then they entered her together.

Adele guided Curt's cock into her pussy, draping a leg over his hip, while Walter, having lubricated Adele in advance, slipped into her anus gently but firmly. As she wrapped her arms around her young lover, the older man took hold of her breasts and pumped her, while Curt thrust in his own rhythm in front. Their kisses covered her face, neck, shoulders, and back, while their hands roamed over her breasts and hips and thighs and bottom. And after several minutes, as if they had synchronized their acts, they poured out their seed into both of her orifices; she received their tribute with the quiet dignity of a queen acknowledging the devotion of two cherished courtiers.

Later they switched positions, Walter lying flat on his back, putting Adele on top of him, and plunging his cock into her vagina while Curt squatted behind and made his way into her anus. This session lasted for nearly half an hour, and all parties entered a state of Zen-like transcendence as they all experienced a nearly simultaneous climax.

Still more couplings, in different arrangements, followed before everyone collapsed in an untidy heap and fell asleep, arms and legs entwined. It had been immensely satisfying for all sides, and they vowed to repeat the experience whenever possible.

*

About a week before the long Christmas vacation was to end, Kristen paid a call to the household. She had heard from Adele how things had gone, and figured that a fourth person—and second female—might be just the thing. Anyway, she was itching to meet Curt's father, whose praises Adele had sung in no uncertain terms.

The moment she walked in the door, pressing her body right up against Walter and giving him a big hug, it became clear to the older man what the situation was. Extricating himself from Kristen's grasp and letting the two young women chatter away as if they had been separated for years and years, Walter approached his son with knowing eyes and a bit of a smirk and said: "You sleep with her too?"

"Yes, Dad," Curt admitted frankly. "She's a real nice girl."

"She seems like it," Walter said, eyeing the two women as they drifted off into the kitchen. "And she's . . .?"

"She's the sister of my friend Paul," Curt said. "I've told you about him, haven't I?"

"I believe you have. You live in Paul's house?"

"It's really the house of his father, Magnus. There's Magnus and Imogen (that's his wife—well, really his ex-wife, but they're back together), and Adele, and her mom—"

"Her mom?" Walter said, surprised.

"Yeah. Her name's Jenna. Also

her

ex, David."

"They're back together too?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

And Walter wandered off, deep in thought.

The four of them all got together to make a fine dinner of pot roast and assorted fixings, and everyone pronounced the meal a great success. After agreeing to watch an old

film noir

that evening, the quartet naturally split up into pairs, Curt and Adele cuddling up on the loveseat and Kristen sidling up next to Walter on the couch.

Somehow it was understood, without a word needing to be said, that Kristen would be joining Walter in his bed that night. Her eyes were shining as she headed upstairs ahead of the others. Finding the master bedroom, she quickly changed into her nightgown—a little baby-doll thing that only came down to the middle of her thighs—and stood in the center of the room, waiting for Walter to show up.

He walked into the room with a pensive look on his face, stopping short when he saw Kristen. He gazed at her tenderly, almost as if she were the daughter he never had, and she just stood there, suddenly feeling a deep blush spreading over her.

Walter calmly walked over to her, placed both hands on her face, and kissed her gently. It was a long, loving kiss, and Kristen received it in the spirit in which it was intended—as a tribute to her own femininity and as part of the healing process (begun splendidly by Adele) that would make this fine, sensitive man whole again after his painful loss.

He stepped back, touched by the look of fragility on Kristen's face. Then he unhurriedly pulled the nightgown off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She was naked underneath.

He inhaled deeply and said, "You're so beautiful, Kristen."

Those simple words made her blush even more. She barely managed to utter a quiet "Thank you" before reaching out to unbutton Walter's shirt, then unzip his pants. Then she knelt down in front of him, first removing his socks and then focusing on his severely distorted underwear.

The placing of his cock into her mouth took on an atmosphere of sanctity. Walter looked down at her both in pride and in humble gratitude as she seized his strong, muscular bottom and gave it some good squeezes. After a few minutes he lifted her up, gave her another long kiss on the mouth, and led her to bed.

The next two hours featured a multitude of couplings and climaxes for both parties, as they found inexhaustible pleasure in each other's bodies but also inexpressible delight of a more spiritual sort as well. Kristen particularly welcomed Walter's entry into her bottom, as he draped himself over her prone form and possessed her utterly. Later she returned the favor by getting on top during a lengthy session of sixty-nine.

The next several days involved all manner of meldings of body and mind between the four of them. In one episode, the two men lay flat on the bed in the master bedroom while the women rode them—then, at a given signal, switched to the other man. Kristen welcomed double penetration by Curt and Walter, and each man was the recipient of double attention by the women, one sitting on his face and the other absorbing his cock.

It was enormously inspiring and uplifting for Walter, and as the three young people prepared to depart back to their home, he pulled his son aside for a final talk.

"This has been really great, son," he said with quiet emphasis. "Those women have transformed me."

"I thought they might, Dad," Curt said with a soft smile. He looked over at Adele and Kristen. "They're pretty remarkable, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are. I hope to reacquaint myself with them someday."

"You're always welcome to come up and visit us."

"I may do that. But in the meantime"—Walter paused significantly—"I believe I'll try to find some companionship closer to home."

Curt's heart flipped over, and tears suddenly filled his eyes. "That's great, Dad, really great. It—it's what Mom would have wanted, I'm sure of it."

"I'm sure, too, son."

Kristen and Adele couldn't wait to give their final hugs and kisses to Walter, whom they had truly taken to their hearts.

"Don't be a stranger," Kristen whispered into his ear as she held him close.

"I won't, dear," he said.

And so they headed back to Boston.