День рождения: 06 июня 1946 года

О себе

Monica and Lycka, the inseparable cousins, were in heaven. They had persevered through the long days and nights of schoolwork and homework, the lessons and practice drills that made up the Total Woman Academy's unique educational curriculum.

They were shining examples of beauty and intelligence, two of the scholastic mainstays. Poise, the third leg, had been both their challenge and rapture, an overarching skill set that made the first two characteristics such a boon to the lives of previous alumni. The facility's staff coach tutors had performed the final evaluation assessments, a grueling test of the coeds' abilities, and had agreed to recommend them for graduation. There was just one more step to satisfy the core curriculum.

At long last, it was time for Father Daughter Weekend, the capstone event that concluded the senior level requirements. It inducted them into paternal incest, a ritual each candidate alumnus must accomplish to complete her poise agenda.

Their parents, Frederick and Anton, father and uncle to them, would arrive shortly. The girls had prepared for their fathers' arrival for days, decorating the special guest coach tutor suites to the specifications each had gleaned from several earlier trysts with the respective uncles and shared with their cousin. Other coeds, who had been fucked by the family adult males, added their opinions.

It was a surprise then when they were informed by the Housemother of a slight change in plans. She told them to pack travel luggage with appropriate items for a weekend trip to the Caribbean with their scheduled family males.

When Anton and Frederick had received their summons to the TWA campus, Anton had responded with an alternate suggestion of Father Daughter Weekend venue. An auxiliary pledge contribution had sealed the deal.

The stretch limousine pulled up to the campus main building and Monica and Lycka had climbed aboard into the company of their attending fathers. The chauffer loaded the luggage in the trunk and the duo pairs of fathers and daughters were whisked to the local executive airport for their trek to island adventure.

The car and jet were cozy and the family group cheered the girls' accomplishments. Lycka was drawn to sit with her Uncle Anton and Monica kept company with Uncle Frederick throughout the journey. The flight was short and the ambiance was chaste, a renewed closeness that invigorated their moods with kissing, petting, gentle fondling. The waiting accommodations were more suited to the expected lascivious escapades and the couples detained their eagerness.

The pairs remained as uncle-niece couples through the hotel resort check-ins. Finally alone together, Lycka calmed her Uncle Anton's eagerness with a welcoming blowjob, tasting again the elixir from his loins. She suspected Monica was performing similar healthy habits on Lycka's father. It helped to settle the twosomes into elevated but manageable sexual urges.

They dressed for the opening dinner, a gala event attended by all of the resort guests in its grand dining room. The uncles wore casual slacks and shirts; their attending nieces were dressed to the nines in revealing cocktail dresses that gained lots of attention from the other men seated about the large room. Their fine dining extended well into the evening and, as the dining room's occupants dwindled away, the uncle-niece couples were finally ready and retired to their rooms.

Frederick was a gentleman to his niece, helping Monica remove her dress. She was braless and he remembered her beautiful breasts from previous encounters. They were just as wonderful now as then, maybe even more so.

The thong panties came off easily. Monica reflected his graces and took pride in exposing her uncle's body, cradling his manhood, the current object of her worship. They fell softly into bed, cuddled and caressed, shifting into a comfortable snuggle. Their lips danced smooches on faces, necks and nipples. They slithered together, his dick sliding into her vaginal receptacle. Frederick's series of long, slow thrusts caused both to revel in their aroused states. They rubbed against each other, Monica's tits squashed and rolled, trapped between their gyrating bodies. His ejaculation was a series of moderate pulses, the sperm becoming a free flowing torrent after the foreplay buildup over dinner.

He lay atop her, resting, refracting, and hoping to try again soon. Monica lay content beneath him, flooded inside, reminiscing over past encounters with this man who had been a key player in her poise learning and exercise. She hugged his shoulders and rubbed his back, until he was ready again… and again… and again.

The morning schedule was brunch at the topless pool lounging deck. At times, frisky guests would sneak off to hidden nooks and trellis coves. They would emerge later with smirks and sheepish grins.

The uncles split their time between sunny lounges and shady café tables, snacking and drinking in the openly playful atmosphere. They spent a lot of time surveying the crowd, quiet comments and quips regarding the many sunbathing young ladies in attendance. The topless cousins jumped in and out of the pool, gathering gazes and stares from the other male guests.

Late in the afternoon, the uncles took their nieces back to their rooms, an interlude for a quickie and shared shower. The evening's schedule was undisclosed to the nieces but the uncles furnished them with risqué club wear that was even more revealing than last night's cocktail dresses. The girls simply went along with the unknown agenda, acceding to the fact that the uncles were catering to their own desires and fetishes. They trusted that the men would keep their daughters safe and sound throughout whatever was in the offing. They watched out the limousine windows as it wound its way through the island streets and arrived at a seaside villa.

There was no signage but two huge bouncers checked their clipboards for names before allowing the gentleman and their ladies to pass inside the mansion. Once inside the vestibule, the uncles briefed their charges on the evening's rules and roles.

This was an exclusive gentleman's club dedicated to group sex and mate swapping. Each attending male was required to bring at least one willing female partner to share; the uncles had no qualms about using their nieces as their willing females. The cousins heard the news, looked at each other, shrugged 'okay' and gave no objection.

They entered through the first door, into a ballroom with a dance floor. Other scantily clad young women were already bee-bopping to a peppy disco beat. Most of the men were loitering around the perimeter, watching and waiting. A few intermingled and danced with the collective of 'willing female partners'. The uncles pushed their girls forward to join the throng.

The nieces took up the same flirty dancing, attracting male attention. The uncles lackadaisically watched over the dancers, catching some of the friskier gents patting a bouncy butt or impulsively grabbing a boob, but without any purposeful fondling or harm.

And then, the mirror ball strobes went dark, the music became slower and seductive. The house lights took on a reddish hue. It seemed to signal a change in tactics. The circumferential observing males entered the close gathering and paid closer attention to individual females they had picked out as especially attractive. They showed some control, an unhurried pace, as they took turns seductively baring a piece of feminine flesh, one exposure at a time.

The uncles did their part on other dancers, an unspoken tenet that only strangers could semi-strip strangers during this phase. It was an incomplete job, purposefully stopping with partial undress, the semi-bare look adding coy attraction to the next phase: selecting a swap-mate.

Most of the young ladies had dressed for success, wearing revealing dresses and even some fetish costumes. The room was full of fashionable gowns and club wear, but also a few schoolgirls, chamber maids and secretaries. By now, every female had some misplaced article of clothing, or at least loose and drooping pieces, exposing a boob or more where the cheerful males had picked away parts of their outfits.

The nieces had a sheen of perspiration from the energetic dancing; it seemed a sign of stamina. They were not the only ones who garnered quick attention as the men gravitated to those first.

The uncles followed the swap-mate house rules: mutual agreement betwixt the primary chaperoning male hosts. Frederick's attention was drawn to a spritely young black haired girl with bangs. He approached her as her host's back was turned, pulling Monica in tow. While he greeted her male host, the girl furtively rubbed Frederick's crotch as she licked her lips. Frederick struck up a conversation with her host and the trade was effected. Neither she nor Monica were asked their opinion or permission. It was simply a done deal between the men.

Anton, promenading a lithe redhead that was his swap-companion for the evening, spied his older niece, Lucia, in attendance. He was surprised but not shocked to see her there as the 'date' of another TWA Pledge Contributor.

Of course, she would have been excited to discover and embrace this kinky venue. She probably had been brought to her first one during her senior year, then several more, by different pledge contributor hosts. She would have gratified whatever anonymous cock she had been presented with, a common theme in a TWA education. She had continued her participation post-graduation, thrilled to accept repeat invitations from prior elite alpha male hosts.

And here she was again, the gleeful center of attention for a small crowd of fascinated participants, one tit exposed, and the men fingering the loose top, delving for access to the other, aching to finish the stripping and effect the climaxes to the transient trade.

Anton, Frederick and their new temporary mates, along with other couples, formed a small crowd around her; they watched Lucia tangled in a 'double date' scenario. She was down in doggy, sucking off one man's cock while another pounded her cunt. Her dress was bunched around her waist, her tits and ass exposed, her mouth expressing mews and moans, a sexual metronome that harmonized their strokes.

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She collapsed from her orgasm as the men panted back to life after tremendous ejaculations. Lucia's mouth and pussy oozed dribbles of the leaking sperm. The crowd applauded the simultaneous culmination of the teamwork. The prelude show was over and the uncles returned to their temporary paramours to affect their own fulfillment.

Moving to their own affairs, Anton spied Frederick across the room. He sat on a stool while his swap-choice was on her knees, drooling a deep throat blowjob, rolling her tits on his thighs, just as the initial tongue glossing of her lips had suggested.

Anton was also seated on a stool, his back braced against the brass rail of the bar. His freckled little redhead was seated sideways in his lap, panties having gone missing somewhere with someone, and one modest tit exposed to his intermittent suckles. Her free hand twiddled his nipples while the other, half trapped between her thigh and his belly, fondled his cock. His hand cupped her pussy, his fingers rubbing her labia. After watching Lucia's obvious repeat performance, Anton grew curious about his lap-bound redhead's story.


"Your first time here, my dear?"

"No, sir. My boyfriend brought me here last month."

"And he brought you again tonight?"

"No, he had to work this weekend, in New York. He's up for a big promotion so he loaned me to his boss. His boss is over there with the brunette."

Anton followed her head nod towards Monica, seated backward in her mate's lap, sliding her hips on his exposed thighs, her cunt massaging his embedded dick.

"Loaned you? I see… That's you being quite cooperative. So… What's your name?"

"Gillian, sir. "

"Gillian… I'm glad your boyfriend's boss loaned you to me for part of this evening. You're very pretty, my dear."

"Thank you… I wish I was up for a big promotion. I have an MBA from Chicago's Booth School of Business. I work hard but they treat me like a common secretary."

Anton gave her a sympathetic pout face. She took it with grace, watching his eyes as she continued the handjob.

By now, his cock was standing stiff in her light grip, her hand having worked its magic. He lifted her petite body in his arms and held her in straddle over his groin. Her legs dangled and then her high heels hooked the bar stool rungs. She braced and helped him maneuver her pussy over his erection. Getting the alignment right, she pressed herself down, sinking him into her wet tunnel. At the bottom, she paused to wiggle her hips and adjusted to his intrusion. Her cervix pushed on the end his knob.

"Mmmm… you're nice and big."

"And you're nice and snug."

"I like you, sir. You're gentle and kind. Not like my boyfriend when he gets upset over work or his boss who's just plain mean. He was okay on the trip down here but last night he got drunk and it was pretty nasty sex. I don't like doing some of those things. They hurt…"

Gillian trailed off, pushing the bad memories aside. She quieted her chatter and hugged Anton's neck, her sweet perfume filling his nostrils, her warm breath purring in his ears. She used her legs to piston her pussy up and down his cock, swaying her hips to and fro, side to side, putting as much friction as possible on his sensitized nerves. She matched her strokes to his breathing, gaining pace as he wound up. He was puffing heavier and heavier as her ass flashed up and down. He heard her soft question in his ear.

"Ready to cum, sir?"

He answered by gripping her body tighter to his, her stiff nipples poking into his chest. A deep breath, a hold and then Anton shot jet after jet of pearly spunk against the cervix that was squashing his knob. She felt the viscid spurts and hugged him back, holding his neck even tighter as she whispered sweet adorations for his virile manliness. When he shrank and fell out, she climbed off the stool and knelt, cleaning his soft cock with her mouth and tongue.

Anton drew her back up to sit sideways in his lap again. His arm draped her shoulder, his hand burrowing under her dress top, fiddling with her hidden nipple and pokey nub. He had some thoughts to share with her.

"I think you are magnificent, my dear Gillian. And an MBA from Booth? You're pretty proud of that and well you should be. Would you consider a promotion to one of MY subsidiary firms? I could use bright special executives like you at any one of my offices around the world. But I was especially thinking of San Antonio or Miami, a bit better weather than NYC. Would you like to interview for one of those?"

"Oh, yes, sir! I would love San Antonio. Are you serious?"

Anton fished in his pants pocket for a generic business card that had his name and a telephone number. He grabbed a pen from the bar and wrote a Texas address and the name of his manager there. Then he paused and scrawled: 'Hire her! ... Anton."

"Go to this address, tell the receptionist to call the manager or to call me. If she doesn't, you call me instead. Take along your resume."

He could already hear the irate San Antonio Managing Director asking 'what the fuck' was going on. He would explain it then: a gorgeous MBA with a willing attitude, ready to do what's necessary to keep the boss happy and still accomplish real career goals, for herself as well as others. He expected her to fulfill a meaningful business role in San Antonio, but especially to be ready and available as his Special Executive Assistant, whenever he visited that office. And to seal the deal: she had great tits and a tight cunt.

Gillian read the card with fascination; she kissed him gratefully and asked in a whisper if he wanted to fuck again. He was forced by the nature of his age to decline for now; too soon to adequately refract. He set her on her feet, adjusted her top to cover her other tit. She slid the card under there for safe keeping, cradling it close to her breast. They spent some more time together, chatting, strolling around the room, and watching the other attendees suck and fuck without any regard for their audience or surroundings.

Alas, time waits for no-one and the end of the evening drew nigh. The temporary couples de-coupled, ready to re-couple in their original pairs. With sweet sorrows of kissing and cooed goodbyes, the intimate acquaintances wandered back to their original chaperones. The crowd thinned as the reconnected twosomes left for other erotic settings. Gillian scanned the crowd for one last view of Anton. She found him looking at her; she tapped the hidden card at her breast and blew him a covert 'thank you' kiss, hoping with true hope that she would see him again, someday very soon, in San Antonio.

The ride back to the hotel was subdued, some light petting but few prospects for anything real. They exited the limo at the hotel entrance and crossed the lobby to the elevators. It was time to put the real point of the weekend trip into action. With unspoken looks of consent, each father took his daughter in hand and trudged with purpose and intent to his suite.

Settled in for the night, Anton slowly stripped Monica of her sequined club dress. She reciprocated, exposing his paternal nakedness to her view. He relocated a long cassock before the wall mirror; he posed her facing the mirror, straddling the cushion.

He plopped his own nakedness behind her. His semi-engorged cock was trapped upright against her butt crack. Her arms hung loose, resting on her thighs.

His left arm and hand wrapped her torso, pulling her bare back firmly to his hairy chest, his palm cupping a handful of her pliant right boob, and his cheek pressed to hers. Her hair scent filled his nostrils and their eyes locked in the wall mirror. His right hand descended to cup her cunt. His fingers pressed rotations on her clitoris before his long finger rubbed her outer lips and then pushed inward seeking her G-spot.

Monica's eyes narrowed and lost focus, her lips split open, white teeth peeking through, an almost imperceptible trace of a smile. His exploratory diddles found the target and Monica quipped an 'Ohh' as her butt jumped in a quick rub on his cock. Anton settled her again and began the slow probes on the cluster of inner sensual nerves.

Monica's face turned flush, her lips compressed, her jaw clenched and then she let go, her spine arching rigid. Anton held her in place while her passions soared and settled, then took her through two more cycles. His dick thickened, rubbed by her bouncing ass.

He was ready for his own satisfaction. He rotated her in his lap and sank her juicy cunt over his solid erection. She scrambled to plant her heels on the floor. Without hesitation, she engaged in frantic thrusts until her Daddy filled her pussy with his spunk.

They retired to the waiting bed, snuggled under a light cover. In a while, he wedged into her in sidesaddle and fucked her hard. Then a short rest of twilight sleep before he rolled atop her for a slow, gentle missionary ride. He stroked a few and stopped, then she would take up the task with hip rolls and vaginal contractions that drug his undervee along her dewy channel with superb stimulation. He wallowed in the sensations, necessarily stretching out the interlude.

But the night had been long and, as he slowly wound higher, he needed to get more vigorous in order to finish. He drew back, paused to gather and concentrate his strength, then drove deep and fast, ending the plunge firmly against her mons Venus. Monica was feeling his renewed energy and added her own little feminine tricks to the mix.

Finally, the pair peaked, their drawn out cries of 'Monica…' and 'Daddy…' merging into one unintelligible howl of delight and satisfaction. His cock dribbled out the last available reserves of his paternal essence.