I woke sometime later to pressure, heat and wetness on my groin. I looked, and in the light of the failing candles, saw and felt Riekie riding me gently. She had managed to get me hard and mount me without waking me until she actually started to ride. She was a vision of teenage passion as she rode, her hips gently rocking like she did earlier at the barn. Her beautiful boobies, so firm they hardly bounced, with there luscious pink tips mesmerized me.
I reached and took two handfuls of succulent female flesh, playing with her nipples, squeezing and tweaking as she rode, her internal muscles milking my cock. My attention to her nipples sent shockwaves through her whole body and her pace picked up. Soon she was bucking like a wild thing, causing the most wonderful sensations in my penis. Too soon, we both erupted in orgasm, me squirting at least another quart (Imperial) into her spasmodic pussy, and her collapsing onto my chest, her hips convulsing, milking out every last drop. As she fell onto me, her lips locked to mine and her scream of release was swallowed in a long, lingering kiss. We broke from the kiss gently; Riekie sighed in contentment and fell asleep on top of me. I lay there holding her, listening to her easy breathing until her weight on my chest made it difficult for me to breathe. I rolled over gently, carrying her with me, still joined. As we settled onto our sides, she pulled her hips tighter into me, keeping us firmly connected, nuzzled her face into me, and murmured. "I love you." As she settled comfortably back asleep. I lay there marveling at her until I too drifted off.
It was well past daylight when I woke again to the sounds of people moving about, as the daily routine of a household started again. Riekie was still pulled up tight against me, sound asleep, her beautiful face even more beautiful as she slept in the early morning light. My penis, still buried deep in her from the night before, was fully erect with my normal morning woody. My bladder was not overly full, and I lay there just enjoying the feeling of her warm pussy surrounding me and the joy of waking up to such a wonderful creature. Even in sleep, her internal muscles worked and pulsed, like an infant sucking the nipple in their sleep.
As I watched her sleep, she woke with an impish smile and moved her hips suggestively. She had another character going when she spoke, that under-sexed, fat, uptight church lady we all know. The voice was a perfect caricature.
"Oh! You dirty old man! You have that-that thing stuck up inside me again! Whatever am I going to do with you? You just know you're going to move it all around in there and make it spit all that gooey stuff and make just a horrible mess, now don't you? I think you're some kind of pervert, sticking that thing in a young girl and making it squirt all that sticky baby making goop up inside her innocent young body and making a mess! You probably think it's funny to shoot that icky stuff until it leaks out and makes my pretty curls all yucky! Why! I bet you even want to put a BABY in me, you, you awful man, you!"
"Uh, the thought had occurred to me Ma'am, but if it's going to cause that much trouble, I suppose I could take it out."
"Don't you dare, young man! If you do, you'll probably make me put that awful thing in my mouth and squirt all that stuff down my throat! If you must shoot it off, right where it is will be best."
"Whatever you think is best, Ma'am. I'm just here to please. I wouldn't want you mad at me for squirting down your pretty throat."
"Well, at least you have some manners! Now why don't you start moving that, that thing and see if you can make a baby?"
I rolled her onto her back and started to move my hips.
"Always glad to oblige, Ma'am."
Riekie dropped out of character as I started to fuck in earnest.
"David, I just LOVE waking up with you inside me like that! It feels so delicious. Now FUCK ME, Sunshine!"
I fucked her. I fucked her hard. I fucked her fast. She fucked me. She fucked me hard. She fucked me fast. We rutted and thrashed and rutted some more. My cock pounded in and out of her pussy like the drive piston of a great steam locomotive. Her pussy milked my cock. Our hips bucked and gyrated. We rode a runaway train down the mountain. We felt the end coming together. The train jumped the tracks in a wild, glorious, noisy, screaming wreck as I unloaded what felt like a whole gallon of sticky, gooey, icky baby making goop into her welcoming, convulsing womb. She screamed and she howled!
"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVVVVVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDDD!!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo!!"
I think she did it just to let everyone know we were awake.
Downstairs, I heard Clyde return the howl and the sound of breaking glassware. Somebody pounded on our door. Heather's young voice called out.
"You all right in there?"
"Yeah, we're fine!"
"What happened? I heard the most awful scream!"
"Train wreck!"
Riekie, beneath me, reached up for a kiss, and then she started to giggle. I started to laugh too. Still joined by a piss hard-on, we rolled on the bed laughing. We laughed so hard we rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a massive thump, and ended up in a tangle of arms and legs on the floor, still laughing. I guess we had a real wreck after all.
Hey! If sex ain't fun, why do it?
Still giggling, we picked ourselves off the floor. My penis waved around in the breeze, looking for a place to piss. Riekie was a wonderful mess, her pussy leaking white goo with a mixture of both our juices running down her thighs, her lovely golden pubes matted just as she said. She looked and smelled like one very well fucked woman. We found our robes, grabbed our towels and headed for the shower, still grinning and chuckling like fools. No bath today, a shower.
Once in the bathroom, Riekie held and steered while I peed. More used to the female touch on my organ, I was able to relieve myself and drain my bladder fairly easily, the erection once again following the urine down the drain.
I started the shower while Riekie relieved herself. She soon joined me in the shower and we made sure we both got exceedingly clean. She even woke Sweet Prince up with her very talented mouth and hands and had him rod out Sweet Pussy, claiming she was all yucky inside and needed a fresh meal of his Precious Stuff. She screamed again as this task was accomplished. Of course, we had to wash off the overflow. Sweet Prince always fed Sweet Pussy more than she could eat. It was a very good shower.
We brushed our teeth at the sink and had a fun pushing match with a lot of tickling to see who could get to the sink first. Our morning ablutions finished, I chased her, squealing, back to our room, where we got dressed with more tickling and horseplay, and then we joined the family for breakfast. Everyone was already at table. When we entered the room, the whole place broke up in laughter. When we settled down, Mom gave us both a big hug. Carol Anne, looking a little satisfied herself from her night with Val, hugged Riekie and very obviously took a good sniff. She kissed her sister passionately and declared.
"Riekie Scott-Lloyd, you look, smell, and from the screams I just heard, sound like a well-fucked woman. Did you leave any for me?"
Riekie was ready for her, and very pointedly used the new full name.
"Carol Anne Scott-Lloyd, there's always lots for you and me both, but if you want some, you'll have to prime the pump yourself!"
I saw Carol sort of melt at the use of her name -- Riekie was right. Mom looked very interested at hearing the name change for both of them, sensing another new dimension in our relationship. Dad missed the name thing, choking on his coffee over their open ribaldry. While Dad regained his composure and breathing, I got a coffee for us, and had a look at Val, curious as to how her night had been. She looked refreshed and happy, with that satisfied glow only good sex can give a woman. Carol had been good to her indeed, and from the look of that young lady, Val had been able to give good measure in return.
The rest of the day passed quickly, too quickly. I spent most of it with my wives. They both got dressed up and helped me with the chores. We spent some quality time together, just the three of us, and became even more comfortable in our relationship. Bob and I were able to spend some time together, but he said this weekend was for the girls and me, so he wasn't going to intrude. He and Dad had become fast friends and they spent a great deal of time together, talking and puttering in Dad's shop.
Too soon, it was time for Dad and me to drive Bob and my wives home. 1966 was now officially under way.
The first half of the year passed quickly. We had tons of schoolwork and our clubs. Cadets occupied more and more of my time. I got a part time job in a local store working evenings during the week. It wasn't a lot of money, but I was able to pay off my debt to my jeweler friend, and was even able to save a little.
Mom was true to her word. Even as early as the day we suggested she use 'work' weekends for the girls as a ruse, she made the arrangements with Dolly, setting up those weekends for them. The first one was actually the next one after New Year's, just as the girls had said. Carol and Riekie became fixtures at the farm almost every weekend for the rest of the winter and through the spring. Mom even had them out when I had weekend exercises with the Cadets. They came home on the bus with Val and me directly from school on Friday and several times stayed over Sunday night as well, catching the school bus with us on Monday.
Dolly never complained, although Bob Sr. did on the few weekends he was home himself, saying they were never home when he was. After a quiet period in the fall and early winter, his work sent him on extended business trips again, and he was home hardly any weekends for several months. Whenever he complained, the girls would cancel or have us take them home.
If their periods fell over a weekend, the girls would at first beg off until Mom told them as married women, they couldn't hide from their husband just because they were on their period. She told me, too, that just because they were 'indisposed' for a few days didn't mean I should avoid them either. They were a little embarrassed the first time we went to bed with them wearing panties, but we soon adapted. Those nights were some of the best we had for just talking, joking, and being together, especially if it was one of their 'private' nights. I got a few excellent blow jobs, too.
As promised, Mom made them work, painting and wallpapering. It sounds easy at first glance, but several layers of old wallpaper had to be removed and the old plaster walls 'sized' before the new could be applied, so each room took more then a day just to prepare. Some rooms took two or three days, so there was always lots of actual work for them. The girls brought some old clothes from home to work in, but tended to appropriate old shirts and sweaters of mine because they said 'we can smell you on them, David'. Their favourites were a couple faded old football jerseys that reached their knees like oversize dresses and they often wore only those sweaters while they worked. By coincidence my number was '69', and they both giggled hilariously when they first found them in my closet. They usually left their work clothes at our place, but those jerseys were packed and taken home every weekend.
Because Mom did one room at a time, we moved our bed into the big rooms, allowing the rest of the family to play musical rooms upstairs. My (our) room was completed first, then as another was being done, its occupant was moved to our room temporarily. In this way, the big rooms truly became our 'apartment' and a private space that the whole family respected. Because it was our space, we were expected to look after keeping it clean and tidy. Those girls kept it immaculate. A single speck of dust was considered a personal insult, and woe betide the farm boy (me) who forgot to take his outside footwear off before walking on their gleaming floors. It is severe punishment indeed when two of the horniest and sexiest creatures in the world withhold their favours but still tease with them because you tracked a little mud on their floor. It happened once, and only once -- I'm not stupid.
Friday nights, and the Sunday nights they stayed, were for the three of us, and usually found us with Val at 'our' kitchen table doing homework. Mom and Dad insisted we get our schoolwork done before there was any fooling around, or even work. A few weekends, Mom's work projects were put on hold or curtailed just so one or all of us could complete an assignment.
Saturday nights became Riekie and Carol's individual private times with me. They set up the rotation, and I never interfered with it. Their schedule started at chore time and ended Sunday at breakfast, and, once Mom stepped in about their periods, regardless of that as well. The system worked amazingly well. I got to know each of my wives much better personally and they, me.
As I mentioned earlier, during my first private time with Riekie at New Year's, I discovered she 'might just be my perfect woman, intelligent, witty, horny and very loving'. I had the frightening thought when I initially made that discovery, that it could pose a problem, because from the beginning, I'd felt that way about Carol. I was scared my loyalties and love for Carol were diminishing in favour of Riekie. I firmly disabused myself of that notion on Carol's first private time the very next weekend.
During Carol's first private time and subsequent ones, I reaffirmed my belief that she was also close to being, if not completely, my perfect woman. Although I thought I already knew her, these times revealed aspects of Carol I sometimes only suspected. I found she had many of the same characteristics as her sister, and was far more romantic than she often let on. I should have known, when I remembered the times she'd come off with something poetic or the day we lay just watching the clouds float by. While she wasn't the Sci-Fi nut we were, like Riekie and I, she loved to read, and her reading selections revealed a deeper intelligence than her marks at school would indicate. She enjoyed the same silly off-the-wall humour (read Monty Python) and practical jokes we did, and revealed many other traits that balanced almost perfectly against my own. Where Riekie preferred her sex to be gentle and enjoyed it hot and furious only occasionally, Carol's preferences were the reverse. Being a guy, I guess, as long as I was getting it, I liked it either way, so they complemented each other very well.
The girls' sense of fun and off-beat humour was a source of delight to the whole family. Riekie's repertoire of characters was impressive, but the two most common were the 'little girl', outrageous in her innocence, and the 'temperance lady' as she became known. Carol didn't have these 'multiple personalities', but followed Riekie's lead and was a perfect second banana. They both did a wide variety of cartoon characters, favouring the Mel Blanc Warner Brothers voices. Their Chip and Dale routine was hilarious.
As an aside, Bob was no slouch in the humour department either. He had Abbot and Costello's 'Who's On First?' routine down pat. Bill Cosby was just making his mark in those days, and Bob knew all the 'Buck-buck' routines as well. His Yosemite Sam was funnier than the original.
The main generalities that I learned from each of the girl's private times was that I loved them both completely, without reserve and that both were close to being, if not completely, my ideal woman. They were alike in very many ways, but different enough to be true individuals that I truly enjoyed being with at all levels. I worshiped the ground they walked on, and if I had a favourite, it lasted only for the period of their individual private time. Like Dad when he focused on the person he was conversing with, while I was with just one, she was the most important person in the world at that moment.
How we didn't get pregnant during that period is still a source of amazement because we made love every opportunity we got. Both wives were insatiable, and it seemed I was too. The family even became able to sleep through some very noisy sessions. For reasons known only to the Power that guided our lives, Carol and Riekie's most fertile times just didn't coincide with our weekends.
As we spent more time with each other, more and more we found ourselves thinking the same things at the same time, and speaking as one. It was not unusual after a while to hear all three of us answer the same question in the same words simultaneously. The rest of the family were somewhat unnerved by this at times.
Bob came and went as he pleased. Some weekends he stayed over the whole time. Others, he would stay just one night. Sometimes, he would only be there for the day. He really enjoyed being with Dad, and many times he came out specifically to visit him. I suspected for a long time that my dad was more of a father figure to Bob than his own. Whenever possible, Bob and I spent as much time together as we could, too. It wasn't all that difficult, with the girls occupied during the day with Mom's redecorating project, although we often got dragooned into the heavy lifting or steaming off old wallpaper.
Val and the girls became very close, and often referred to each other as sisters as opposed to just friends. Carol and Riekie were truly like older sisters with her, and helped her through some traumatic teenage times. Heather was very much the little sister to my wives, and to this day, refers to her sisters Carol Anne and Riekie. She was traumatized when the bad times came, but never stopped loving them.
Later that January, both Carol and I tried for our full driver's licenses. I passed the driving test easily, but Carol hadn't had enough time behind the wheel, and didn't make it first time. She rescheduled for March. Riekie and I took her out driving every chance we got, sometimes cutting into their private time on Saturday evening just to get her some wheel time. Sometimes we had their wagon, others we used my parents' car, and occasionally we even used Dad's old pickup. Teaching Carol to drive a three speed standard was something else. She had no idea what a clutch was, and had a hard time learning to control it. Riekie learned to drive a standard in that old truck, too. The next time she tried her driving test, Carol passed with flying colours. Riekie and I were pretty good instructors after all.
We almost missed Carol's 17th birthday in March because of a late-season snow storm. I managed to get into town and fetch the girls to the house for the weekend, but most of the guests couldn't make it. It turned out to be a small party with a big cake. I gave her a bracelet to match her locket. She adored it and as it was her private time weekend, she showed her appreciation again and again and again. I figured if I ever got that kind of thank you again, I'd probably be walking bow-legged for a week.
Easter weekend, all three of the kids were at the farm, but Bob Sr., who was home that weekend, insisted they attend mass every day. They didn't want to go, but to keep peace with him, they went. As a show of support, my whole family went with them. The look on Bob Sr.'s face when he saw the whole Lloyd clan at mass was priceless.
Mom and Dolly became very good friends, first over the phone from arranging the girls' weekends, and then in person. Dolly often came to the house to have lunch with Mom while the boys were at school, and Mom was often there visiting Dolly. Dolly even brought the little guys out for day visits to the farm on weekends Bob Sr. was away. If she suspected anything about the girls' status at my house, she never said or let on, even when Heather referred to her new sisters. Dolly was always a welcome visitor to our home, and always phoned before she came out, thus allowing the girls and me to get decent if we weren't. Bob Sr. never darkened our door, and after his rude refusal of the Christmas invitation was never invited again. If he had shown up with Dolly on one of her visits, he would have been made welcome, but he never did.
Winter rolled into spring and spring into early summer. Our lives were as complete and happy as they could be. My wives and I were becoming closer as a family and as lovers. We were learning about life, and especially married life, with all its joys, pitfalls and responsibilities. Mom and Dad had always taught Val and me to be responsible people, and also taught us valuable parenting and other life skills. Now, they included my wives in those ongoing lessons.
One of the most rewarding things my parents did for us was to include us in their routine decision making regarding the running of the farm and even to some extent, their financial dealings. Whenever a question arose, they would gather us to them, and pose the problem to us to see what we might come up with. If our proposed solution was unworkable, they would go through it with us and patiently show why it was unworkable, and have us try it again. If our solution was not only workable, but better than theirs, they would use it and give us full recognition for it. The skills and knowledge we gained during that wonderful six month period were invaluable, and I still use them to this day.
Riekie's 18th birthday in May fell on a weekday, and when Mom asked me whether to celebrate it the weekend before or after I picked the one after, which was also her private time. We had a small party, and another big cake. The same as Carol, I got her a bracelet to match her locket. She loved it and then loved me almost to unconsciousness. I didn't walk bowlegged for a whole week, but damn close.
As spring turned into summer, my involvement with Cadets intensified. Earlier in the year, I got a chance to attend Cadet Leader Instructor Summer Camp, and applied. CLI was the advanced course, usually reserved for cadets who had attended basic camp the year before. Because our Corps was new, I hadn't been able to apply the previous year, and would have missed out on My Girls if I had. Our Corps, being new, had incorporated most of the training I would have received at basic, so the CO thought I had an excellent chance of being accepted to CLI. He was right — my acceptance notification came in the mail in early June, almost exactly a year after I first met Carol. I would leave for campJuly first, Canada Day, or Dominion Day as it would still be known for another year.
My dad and I were overjoyed at the news. It was considered a large feather in my cap towards acceptance at RMC, and opened the door for more advanced courses yet, including the prized Caribbean exchange. While neither course was a defined requisite for acceptance to RMC, good course reports from them certainly moved you closer to the top of the list for consideration. It was not unheard of for a prospective candidate with excellent academic standing to be refused entry to RMC because of a poor course report or the dreaded 'DNE' (Do Not Employ) stamped large on the document.
My mom was actually less than thrilled, which surprised me no end. She actually didn't want me to go. She said my course reports and CO's evaluation from the home Corps should be good enough along with my marks. Feeling this was not all, when I pressed, all she would say was, "I have a bad feeling about it." And could or would say no more.
My wives' reaction was even less positive, and led to our first true argument. Like Mom, though, they couldn't provide me with a firm reason as to why they felt I shouldn't go; like her, they simply said they had 'a bad feeling about it' that scared them and could or would say no more. I was most surprised at Riekie's reaction. Always the overachiever and looking to pad her resume for acceptance to med school, I thought she would understand my reasoning better than anyone, including Dad. She held firm to her 'bad feeling' assertion and wouldn't be budged. Carol was almost hysterical with her fear, and couldn't be reasoned with at all.
Mom and the girls finally bowed to my decision to go, and grudgingly gave up trying to dissuade me. The acrimony this had engendered so scared us we quickly buried all the hatchets and made up after the three of us collapsed into each others arms bawling our eyes out.
I wish now I'd listened to them.
Except for this bump in our road, everything else went well. Riekie and I did very well on our final exams, and Carol managed to keep her grades fairly high as well. I continued my roll and passed with honours, even winning the Science prize for Grade 11. Riekie made out like a bandit, she not only passed with honours, but received an Ontario Scholar bursary (minimum average of ninety per cent), plus other local scholarships and awards for the highest academic standing in her class and was named Valedictorian for her graduating class, the first female in the history of the school to do so. Carol didn't make the Honour Society, but did win the Art Prize.
Our school year finishing on such high notes, we looked forward to the summer.