While Carol and the other two wives busied themselves at getting breakfast ready, I checked the turkey, which had thawed out nicely. I took it out of the water and dried it out with the clean towel I had placed over it to keep the exposed part from drying. Carol showed me where the makings were, and I started breaking bread for the stuffing.
As long as I could remember, breaking the bread for the Christmas turkey stuffing had been my job, going right back into childhood. In later years, I also became responsible for adding the spices and actually making the dressing. I asked Carol if she trusted me, and she said if I made the same stuffing as she remembered from the farm to go for it as she used the same recipe, which she'd gotten from Mom way back then. I asked Carol what time she'd told the boys dinner was served so I knew when to have the bird stuffed and ready for the oven. She said she told them for five, which meant I should have it ready no later than eleven thirty.
By the time the girls had breakfast ready, I had most of the bread broken. I was sent to fetch Bob and the twins for breakfast. With the whole gang there, it was a lot like breakfast at home. As we sat down, Carol asked me to say a few words to the Goddess. I asked Her to take Ben's soul to her bosom and guide him to the Light then I thanked Her for good food, good friends and a reunited, stronger family.
My Wives (My Wives!) served a scrumptious home cooked breakfast. We had a simply wonderful time of love, friendship and fellowship. We laughed joked and generally acted a little silly. My Girls and I held hands under and over the table, sharing our love by touch. K.P. and D.J. moved from lap to lap, delivering warm little girl hugs and sloppy kid kisses. They had healthy appetites and ate what was put in front of them with gusto. Breakfast, Christmas morning in the W.D. Lloyd household, temporarily located in Bragg Creek, Alberta was a warm, happy occasion we all remembered the rest of our lives.
Breakfast over, and everyone relaxing with their coffees, I called a family meeting.
This was the first family meeting we'd had in twenty years. Bob wanted to excuse himself, saying this was a private affair, but I insisted he stay. The twins asked if they could go play with their new toys, and we let them. Bob stood by the door where he could hear and keep an eye on them and still hear what was being discussed. Being an inveterate doorjamb leaner, it was the natural post for him. I had several items on my agenda. The girls all looked a little nervous, thinking I was going to lay some heavies on them, but most of the things I wanted to discuss were of a practical and pragmatic nature.
I started with the most time-important issue first. "Jeez, My Loves don't look so worried. This is the first opportunity we've had to talk privately without other... ahem... 'distractions' as a family since we all got together. There're a few things we need to talk about, and now's as good a time as any.
"First, are we all going home together — home meaning the farm? If not, who's staying behind to finish up their business affairs?" It hurt me to even consider we might be separated by such mundane matters, but it was a real possibility we needed to discuss.
My Girls (My Girls!) looked at me a little darkly, and Carol's terse reply made me feel stupid for even asking. "David! What do you mean are we all going home together? Of course we are! We will never be separated again! We can't leave soon enough to suit me. I have no business affairs to close up."
Riekie reminded me of the last diary entry, "David, I said I was going to come home on my own a soon as I could. You won't be leaving me behind, either."
Not even pausing long enough to pull my foot out of my mouth, I ploughed on. (When I was very young, my Dad had once accused me of having all the tact of a fire truck on Judgment Day... ) "I'm sorry, My Loves, I just didn't want you to think I was making hasty assumptions. Fair enough, now we do have to make plans to get home. Several questions have to be answered. When do we leave? Do we fly to get there quicker, or do we drive? If we fly, all Carol Anne's stuff will have to be left behind, then we'll have to come back later to pack and have it shipped. If we drive, how much can we take with us? Do we gain anything by that, or does Carol Anne have more than we can take in one trip? If that's the case, we might as well leave it all here, fly home and come back later. Will the rental agency let us take the van across country? I guess the first question to be answered is for Carol Anne — how much do you have to move?"
Carol laughed and said, "I don't have very much except what's in my room. When Ben and I got married, and I found out we were moving in here, I got rid of all my furniture because I didn't need it here. Besides, it was mostly second hand stuff anyway, best suited to a small one bedroom apartment, not this big monstrosity of a house. Even the dishes we're using belong to the house, including the fine china and silverware in the dining room.
"My own dishes, everyday and fine, are in the basement, still in the boxes, including most of the things we got as wedding presents. Only items of a 'personal' nature we use regularly. There's never been any need to unpack them; everything was here ready to use. Even the bed linen belongs to the house. If it ever sells, the house is a 'turn-key' operation. I've got a few personal knick-knacks in the living room and there are a couple small appliances here in the kitchen. I never bought anything for the house. If something wore out or needed to be replaced, the company bought it. All I have is what could be called truly personal items. It's still probably more than the van will hold when you include the luggage and all that Christmas loot the twins got." She thought a moment then added. "Oh! I do have some larger items. The bedroom set in my room is mine. I inherited it from Oma."
Bob interjected at this point. "Dave, I saw a Reese trailer hitch on the van. Couldn't you rent a trailer to hold all Carol Anne's stuff and the extra luggage? A trip like that will be hard on the kids, so if you can cram as much stuff into a trailer as possible, there might be room in the back of the van to make up a place for the twins to sack out. If it all fits, you'll be able to make a clean getaway and not have to worry about returning."
I was delighted at Bob's suggestion. "That's why I asked you to stay, Old Buddy. I knew you'd contribute something worthwhile. We can't do anything on renting a trailer before tomorrow, I imagine, but we can check with the rental agency at the airport today to see if they'll let us drop the van off in Ontario. That'll tell us if we're even being realistic to consider hauling Carol Anne's stuff home or not. Princess, if you'll give me the contract, I'll phone them when we're done.
"The next thing is, when do we leave? I want to be home for New Year's Eve, so if we drive, that means we can't leave any later than Friday morning, because there's no way we can drive straight through. It's just too hard on us, especially with the kids. You can't sleep worth a damn in those seats in that van, trust me. We'd be growling at each other before we're half-way home. We'll have to stop at least two, preferably three nights to let them out and run and so we can all sleep in a bed. I guess departure time depends on when the boys were able to get the funeral scheduled, and that will determine ultimately whether we fly or drive. I guess we'll have to wait to talk to them this afternoon. Carol Anne, can you show Bob and me sometime this afternoon what things you want to take with you so we can get an idea of the size of trailer we'll need? We'll need to know so we can get it first thing tomorrow. Is everyone OK with driving back if we have the time and can get the van and a trailer?"
The girls all said yes, no problem, Carol and Riekie said they'd help with the driving, and Diane, because she didn't drive said she'd be the resident kid-sitter. Carol indicated she'd show us what we needed to see as soon as the turkey was in the oven.
The issue of going home resolved, pending more information, I moved onto my next topic. "OK, I guess that's all settled until we get the rest of the information we need. The next thing I wanted to talk about is an idea I got from something Beth said yesterday.
"She told Carol Anne even if we elect a new First Wife, she would still be the Keeper of the string, and still be First Wife in time. I took it from the way she said it that the functional position of First Wife was of some importance, and that she could be elected. Until now, we've just assumed it was based on who was literally the first, with no duties or responsibilities aside from the unspoken role of string keeper.
"I'm merely throwing this out as an idea and a suggestion. If there is to be an elected First Wife, then you three should elect her from yourselves. I can't become involved if you decide to go that way, because whether my candidate was elected or not, and whether my reasons were based on pure logic or not, I want no perception I'm playing favourites. Call it 'abstaining due to possible conflict of interest'. Please decide amongst yourselves and let me know if you even think this is a good idea. I'll abide by whatever you decide."
Riekie asked, "From the way you make it sound, this elected First Wife would assume a position of some importance in the family. Just what would she do?"
"I'm not altogether clear on that myself, but I think it means she would act as spokesman <I categorically refuse to fall into the PC lingo maze!> for all the wives and be responsible for what I might call 'executive' decisions. By that I mean there will be times when something needs to be done immediately when it isn't practical to call a family meeting to discuss it like we normally would. This is a family. We are all equal, and most major decisions should be made through meetings like this. Occasionally that won't be possible though, so we should have somebody who can make a quick decision on the spot that the rest of us will have to live with regardless of whether it was a good decision or not. We'll be talking to Mom later today. Maybe she can clarify just what it means."
Diane became involved in the discussion. "David, you said we were all equals, yet you called this meeting. Does that mean you're more equal than us?"
"Absolutely not, Muffin. Any one of us can call a family meeting anytime something is bothering us or if we become aware of something important that needs to be discussed. I called this one because I saw some things that I thought should be put before the whole family, and at least one of them, the matter of getting home, is actually quite pressing, so I couldn't wait. This issue of First Wife isn't nearly as urgent -- I just wanted to mention it while it was still fresh in my mind. But that makes me think there may be an additional role for First Wife, in that she may also chair these meetings regardless of who calls them."
Diane nodded. "OK. I understand. According to the way we understand what Beth said, First Wife for now, then, is Carol Anne just because she is the first, but we could actually elect any one of us to the position. I kind of like the idea of a First Wife as you describe it, whether it stays Carol Anne or one of us by election, but I think we should talk to Mom first to learn more."
Carol spoke up, assuming the First Wife position for the time being. "We'll talk it over, David, after we find out what Mom says and decide if we want to actually have someone do the job. Then, if we do, we'll elect one of us. We'll let you know what we do decide. Is that OK, Muffin and Princess?"
Diane and Riekie agreed.
I moved on to my next topic. "OK, that's settled for now. This next item is something Princess and I talked about in the shower this morning. We really appreciate what you, Carol Anne and Muffin, did for us, allowing us to be together for our first night together in many years, but it was also our wedding night for all of us, and we felt like we were being somewhat selfish."
The two wives protested we weren't being selfish at all, noting that they had paired up almost exclusively themselves to explore their own new love, and therefore had been their wedding night. They felt they had left Riekie out of that.
"What this brings me to is what are we going to do when we get home? In the first 'incarnation' of this marriage, Princess and Carol Anne had what we called private times, one day per week at that time, where each wife and me had twenty four hours exclusively to ourselves, including the night alone. The reasoning behind it was to be able to get to know each other on a one-on-one basis without other distractions. It succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. We fell more deeply in love and our whole marriage seemed stronger for it.
"Do you want to re-instate that practice once we're in our own home? I know Princess does, as it was she who raised the issue with me this morning." Riekie nodded. "That would avoid the issue of two of you making a spontaneous sacrifice of your own share of communal time like you two did last night, generous to a fault though it was. Again, this is a decision I'm leaving up to you wives. My position is clear — I'm all in favour of it, but if you decide against it among yourselves, I'll abide by that. OK?"
Carol, still the de facto First Wife, took the vote right then. "I don't think this needs a lot of discussion. I think we're all in favour of it, because this allows the two not with you to have one-on-one of their own, and nobody has to sleep alone unless they want to. What do you say, wives?" Riekie and Diane both agreed enthusiastically. Carol continued. "Like the last time, we'll set the schedule, and David will abide by it, especially who gets the first one. Are we all agreed, ladies?" Again, enthusiastic approval from the other two. " Motioned, voted, carried. Do you have anything else, David?"
"No, that about does it for me. Anybody else have something they want to discuss?"
Diane giggled and said she had one. Blushing prettily, she forged ahead. "At the risk of embarrassing Bob, what does the family think of spontaneous sex? I mean, if two of us end up alone for whatever reason, even if it isn't our private time together, and we get horny for each other, and want to do something about it, is that OK? I'm used to having David to myself, and Carol Anne had him for a weekend. We could do it whenever the urge struck us."
We all laughed, but it was Riekie who answered her. "I'm glad you brought it up, Muffin. You're talking about plain old quickies as opportunities present. They're fun! Spontaneity has always been one of the things that put the spice in our love life. <giggle> We never had much opportunity before, except possibly during our private times, but when we did get then, they were always fun! We have here four of the horniest people it has ever been my privilege to know. If two of us get horny for each other, even if the other two are present, I don't see a problem with that at all. The only thing I would suggest is a little discretion and a modicum of decorum around the children. What does everyone think?"
With lots of giggling, it was carried unanimously. Hey! I'm a man; men hardly ever pass up a chance at some nookie. I'd be a disgrace to my gender to nay say this issue! That was the last item discussed in our meeting, and ended it on a very positive and even suggestive note. From the lascivious looks going round the table, and especially directed at me, I wondered if maybe open season had just been declared on me.
Having successfully concluded our first family meeting, we got back to the business of getting ready for Christmas dinner. I finished breaking the bread for the stuffing, added the onions and spices, had everyone taste test it, and stuffed the bird. While I did that, the girls did the breakfast cleanup and Bob went out to play with the kids and take more pictures. We had the kitchen cleaned up and the turkey in the oven by a little after eleven. We had time now to start with our moving preparations.
I got the rental agreement from Riekie and her credit card in case there was an extra charge as a drop fee in Ontario. I noted with surprise and pleasure that Riekie had shown her address as the farm. I commented on it, and she said there was probably mail already waiting for her, as she had officially notified the post office and all other interested parties of her address change to the farm. Fortunately, the number for the airport branch was on the bill, and there was an attendant on duty. Airports and their support industries like car rentals run twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five.
I identified myself, told the lady my wife had rented a van there yesterday and gave her the contract number. She looked it up and verified the details. Riekie had taken the van on an open-ended rental, with no time limit, so we were Ok there. I asked about taking the van to Ontario and dropping it, and would it be OK to tow a trailer. The lady said she'd have to change the contract, as there would be an additional drop fee, although that would be off-set to some extent by a lower rate because of the longer term. The catch was we'd have to go out to the airport to pick up the new contract. I told her someone would be out later today. On the question of towing, she said no problem, but insurance would be less of a hassle if we used one of their trailers, which, in a stroke of pure luck, cutting down our running around tomorrow, they even had some on the lot there. What size did we need? She gave me the sizes available, and I told her whoever came out would let her know then.
Pleased that we had the van, and a trailer, Carol, Bob, and I quickly inventoried what she had. There were several boxes in the basement, all neatly labeled as to contents, and also several sturdy empty boxes that could be used for her other packing. When we checked her room, we found she had really very few clothes. She laughed and said when she came home from Ontario she'd given most of her things to Good Will, and hadn't completely rebuilt her wardrobe yet because of the maternity situation, only buying new clothes as she needed them.
She had quite a collection of bric-a-brac (mostly Inuit soapstone carvings that Sandy had started her on.), art supplies and several small canvases she was working on. The only furniture she had of her own, as she had said, was her bedroom set which she had inherited from Oma. There were a few items scattered around the house, including some small kitchen appliances and the microwave. From what we saw, Bob and I decided the mid-size trailer available would be the best.
Done checking Carol's belongings by noon, we were ready to send someone to the airport. Bob was a little bored and said he'd go for something to do. I volunteered to go with him, but Riekie said she'd go in the event there was a problem with me using her credit card. I made sure she had the original rental contract and her card back and gave the keys to Bob. He went out and started the van while Riekie got ready. She seemed reluctant to go, almost as if she was afraid I wouldn't be there when they returned, holding me in a bear hug and kissing me furiously. She finally left when Bob came back in wondering what the delay was. If all went smoothly, they'd be back in just over an hour.
Diane had the kids occupied playing some game they got for Christmas. I slipped another log on the fire, made sure it was going good, closed the screen, and wandered out to the kitchen to get a beer. Carol was busy making up cookie and dessert trays for the dinner.
She had her back to the door, working at the counter, and didn't hear me come in. Seeing her like that, performing what was basically a simple domestic task, filled me suddenly with love. I snuck up behind her and slipped my arms around her, caressing her tummy swelling with the two new lives we had made as I nuzzled a kiss just behind her ear. Carol jumped and squealed, then realizing who it was leaned back into me, laying her head back on my right shoulder, exposing the side of her throat to my nibbling kisses. Except for when she'd curled up in my lap yesterday, this was the most intimate body contact we'd had since Diane and I arrived in Calgary.
She giggled, "Didn't you always say your grandmother used to say 'you might as well kill a person as scare them to death'? Mmmmmm! If you don't stop that in the next thirty minutes, I'll whisper for help and hope nobody hears me!"
Continuing to nuzzle her throat and ear with little nibbles and kisses, I slipped my right hand under her sweater and cupped her firm breast. The whole sweet mound quickened and hardened under my gentle massage, her nipple erecting almost instantly, that hot little nubbin almost burning my palm. "Mmm-hmm. Gram had a lot of those old sayings. Whisper away. Have I told you today how much I love you?"
Carol put her right hand up and caressed my face as her left hand linked fingers with mine and ground her pert bum into my growing hard-on and sighed, "Mmmmm. Don't think so... But it feels like somebody likes me."
I slid my left hand under her sweater and caressed the warm flesh of her swelling tummy; my right hand kept up its exploration of her luscious breasts, squeezing the resilient warm flesh of her mounds, tweaking her hard nipples. "I love you, Carol Anne Lloyd, mother of my unborn children that I feel growing right here. I love you more than I can describe. You are my first True Love, my Soul-Mate. Carol Anne, I tell you three times -- I love you! I love you! I love you!"
Carol moaned as my hand teased her boobies and ground her bottom into me even harder. "Mmmm! You're making me so wet! Oh, David, I love you so much! William David Lloyd, you are my True Love and Soul-Mate, and I say to you three times — I love you! I love you! I love you!"
I dropped my left hand lower, caressing her mons and thigh through the material of her skirt. Carol dropped her right hand from my face and reached between us to fondle my cock through my pants, squeezing and stroking. My left hand continued its exploration of her thigh, bunching her skirt, working it up over her thighs. As I felt the hem of her skirt pass my fingers, I stroked onto hot bare flesh, caressing her inner thigh. Her response was immediate and rewarding. She leaned her upper body even closer into me, shifted her feet to a more open stance, thrust her pelvis forward and moaned in pleasure.
"Mmmmm... mmmm."
My left hand gently caressed up to her apex and found her curls. I stroked and petted, then dropped a little lower. Carol opened her stance even more as my fingers probed into her hot, moist sex, massaging the hard little nubbin of her clit. She gasped and moaned, her hips thrusting hard to meet my teasing fingers. "Hhhhuuhh! Mmmmmm!"
I slid a finger into her cleft, the moist, swollen lips parting easily, and felt her wetness; she was sopping already. I worked into her opening and slid my finger in to the knuckle, gently probing and teasing. I finger fucked her tight hole, then moved my finger up to her clitty, strumming and flicking it, causing her hips to hump and grind back against me. Her hand left my cock and pulled her skirt up over her cheeks.
Carol reached back to my crotch, undid my fly, and fumbled with my belt and the button until she had them undone then fished my throbbing penis out into the open. With my engorged member exposed, relieving the tension on the fabric, my pants fell to my knees and she stroked it even harder. She bent my raging hard-on down and guided it between her thighs into the slick wetness between her lips. She humped and rotated her hips back and forth, coating me with her juices. She moaned and whispered. "Mmmmm! Ni-i-i-ce! Mrs. Pussy is so-o-o hungry. She hasn't had anything to eat in months! Does Rascal, her Sweet Prince have Christmas dinner ready for her?"
My left hand continued to strum and play on her hot clitty. "I think he may have a whole banquet for her today. He and his two nutty helpers have been cooking up a storm since this morning."
She stepped back and leaned forward onto the counter, then wiggled back, her legs parted in a wide stance, until her upper body was supported only by her outstretched hands grasping the edge of the counter. I was forced to pull my hand from fondling her delightful breast flesh back to her sexy swollen belly. She reached between her legs and guided my swollen member to her sopping entrance, gasping, "O-o-o! I'm so ready! Just the main course will be fine, David! Put him in me, David! Put him in me NOW! Feed Her!"
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Pussy, Rascal says your Christmas feast is served!" I bent my knees a little to get the angle right, and entered her hot, wet, tight sheath in one smooth stroke. Her amazing muscles clutched and rippled, welcoming the friendly invader as I slid fully home. The sensation was indescribable as I plumbed her to depths very poorly charted. "Oh! Baby! You feel so good! So tight!"
She wiggled her delightful bum and shoved back, forcing me deeper, sighing in pleasure, "Aaaaahhh! My God, David, he feels so-o-o goo-oo-ood! So-o-o dee-eep! Oh, it's been too-oo long."
I stayed buried in her pulsing sheath for a few seconds, savouring the feel of her hot depths and pulsating muscles. Carol rotated her hips against me, sending new and marvelous sensations rocketing through my throbbing penis. She became insistent. "Feed her, David! Feed Mrs. Pussy! Feed her hard! Stuff it in her!"
Delirious with the sensations caused by her wonderful pussy, I was incapable of coherent speech. I grasped her more firmly around her slightly swollen tummy, reveling in the feel of her hot flesh under my hands, holding her up and into me. I grunted, pulled almost all the way back and thrust in again, establishing a rhythm. On that first thrust, she reared back into me, moaning and gasping her pleasure.
"Mmmmmm! Aaaahh! S-o-o-o go-oo-od! Oh yes! Yes! Fuck me, David! Fuck me hard!"
I thrust long and hard as she gripped the edge of the counter solidly, her hips bumping and grinding in a circular motion as she fucked back at me. She flung her head about, her hair flashing and waving. As our passion and heat worked higher my strokes shortened and became faster and harder, my hips slapping noisily against her delicious cheeks. We rutted; we fucked in primordial passion. Carol's hips bumped, ground and twisted back into me, meeting my thrusts with perfect timing. Those wonderful vaginal muscles rippled and pulsed along and around my driving pecker, fucking me from the inside, driving me almost insane with pleasure. I grunted and groaned. "O-o-o-o! Uh! Uh! Car-ol An-ne! So-o-o Ti-i-i-ght! Uh! Uh!"
I reached back down to her soft curls with my left hand, steadying her with my right, and strummed her clit, my fingers teasing her almost to madness, her hips bucking and gyrating in perfect sync with my own bucking and jerking. We climbed the mountain together, gasping and pumping, jerking and thrusting, back and forth, in and out. I was the stallion and she my mare, just two animals of the steppe in a mating whirlwind of lust and heat. Too soon we climbed together toward the summit of our staggering mutual orgasm. I felt the white hot eruption rising in me, my balls lifting and swelling to bursting. My inflamed penis swelled larger and harder, as I pounded harder and deeper. I gripped her hips tightly and pulled her back into me as Carol's muscles began a frenzied jerking and milking of my rampaging member.
Carol moaned, grunted and squealed. "Mmmm! Uh! Uh! Uh! EEEEEE! Uh! Uh! Feeed her, David! FEE-EED HERRR! UH! UH! UH!"
I felt the bittersweet pain of release rushing through my rampaging penis, the explosion almost upon me. One! Two! Three hard, full length, driving thrusts! On the fourth, I pulled almost all the way out, then slammed hard full length into her hot, convulsing depths, and held as my balls roared and erupted to send their white hot load surging through my enraged cock. My pecker swelled, convulsed, and exploded, spewing high pressure surge after surge after surge of hot, molten, sticky, baby batter deep into her convulsing, squeezing pussy, so much, I felt some squish back past the seal of my embedded rod, ooze out and dribble onto my balls.
"Uh! Uh! CUUUuuummmiiinngg!! Baby! Cuuuummmiinnng!! Uh! Uh!"
The blinding, mind-numbing intensity of my total release almost buckled my knees. At the same time as I powered that last deep, hard thrust into her, inundating her pussy to overflowing with creamy sperm, Carol's gorgeous butt slammed back hard into me, her hips grinding and humping. Her extraordinary muscles clamped and milked, stripping every last drop from my jerking member. She came explosively, her hips jerking with each shot of jism from my spitting cock, scalding my balls with gush after gush of her own hot fluid, crying out in satisfaction and release, oblivious to the noise she made.
"YES! YES! YES! OGOD! OGOD! YES! AAAAIIIIEEE! OGOD! DAAAVVVIIIIID! OGOD! UUUHHH-uuuhhh!"
As we exploded tumultuously together, her knees gave out; I felt her stumble and sag, her arms collapsing from the counter, and caught her, my hands slipping under her tummy and holding her up, forcing her back into my still pulsing cock. We stayed together, weak-kneed, gasping for breath, hips still pumping gently as my cock continued to jerk and spit inside her, her muscles stroking and squeezing out every last drop of thick, white, sticky semen. Gradually our breathing relaxed and we were able to move a little. She regained her grip on the counter and I relaxed my grip on her tummy, leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on the back of the neck.
"Oh, David! That was so good! Rascal, her Sweet Prince, sure served Mrs. Pussy a wonderful Christmas feast! He's such a marvelous chef! She's so full! Oh! I felt every squirt of his Precious Stuff! He filled her to overflowing, I think! O-o-oh! So-o-o- Goo-oo-ood!"
At long last I withdrew from her, stepping back, my cock, still semi-erect leaving her still clasping pussy with a wet sucking sound, a gooey string of sticky sperm connecting us. White cream oozed from her still gaping hole, dribbled through her cleft, coating her lips, to her still erect clitoris and dripped onto the floor. She groaned at the lost contact, and pushed her hips back.
"OOooooo, not yet..."
I moved to help her up, tripped over my pants, now around my ankles, and almost fell to the floor, catching myself by grabbing the edge of the counter beside me. I thought we must look a sight, Carol bent obscenely, skirt hiked over her hips, a white stream of sticky sperm leaking, and dripping from her open pussy; me in my shirt-tail, pants around my ankles, semi erect penis still oozing sperm and connected to her by a long shiny string of goo. I stepped back a bit, breaking that gooey connection, careful not to trip again, bent over, and took a good look at her marvelous pussy in all its glorious mess.
Still regaining her breath and balance, holding onto the counter, Carol glanced back and saw me looking. "How does she look?"
I laughed. "Fan-fucking-tastic! But damn! I thought we'd finally taught her some manners! Mrs. Pussy is as sloppy a diner as ever, drooling her Christmas dinner all over the floor."
Carol giggled in reply "Well, what do you expect when Chef Rascal, her Sweet Prince and his two nutty sou chefs served her a meal meant for three? He's filled her up before, and I mean filled her up, but oh my! He sure outdid himself this time! What a feast! She won't be hungry again for at least an hour..."
Giggling, Carol recovered enough to heave herself upright from the counter. She turned and melted into my arms. Still shaky, we held each other, kissed tenderly in post coital bliss, and murmured mutual 'I love you's' and sweet nothings, our pelvises gently rubbing together. As we broke from the kiss, she cooed, "Oooooo... I'm so messy! I think I'll squish when I walk. I'll bet Sweet Prince is a mess, too. Lemme check." She dropped to a crouch, looked back up at me and grinned. "Oh what a lovely mess we make. Poor Rascal, he's all messy and still leaking" Then she proceeded to lick me clean.
Her ministrations to the Chef woke him out of his daze and he started to rise, looking to serve another meal, even if there was little left in the pantry to actually serve. She stroked him lovingly, then laughed and speaking directly to my penis said, "Sorry, My Prince, others may need your services later. Mrs. Pussy is already full and you need a little more rest. Go to sleep, now."
She kissed the tip and suddenly flicked her finger sharply just behind the head. Poor Rascal never knew what hit him! He collapsed almost instantly, and Carol giggled in surprised delight. "It works!"
My jaw bounced off the floor, and I just stared. Where a few seconds ago had been an almost erect penis was now a shriveled mass! Finally I got my mouth working. "W-What did you just do?"
"Oh, Princess told us about it. It's a trick they teach nurses and medical students when a patient gets an erection. I don't understand the mechanics of it — something about the location of a nerve, but it works!" She got all worried. "Did it hurt? I'd never hurt him, you know that! "
I laughed. "No, it didn't hurt a bit. Stunned me though. I've never seen anything like it. You be careful of that new trick — you might end up spoiling your own fun sometime."
She giggled. "I'll be careful."
In her crouch, Carol's thighs spread obscenely and she leaked more stringy white goop onto the floor. When she stood, she brought my pants back up with her and tucked me safely away. I offered to clean her, but she refused. She rubbed her thighs together and said she wanted to feel all messy for a while, it had been too long since she'd 'felt his Precious Stuff running out'. She'd use the bidet to clean herself up later. I helped her pull her skirt back down over her sweet hips and ran my hands lovingly over her tummy, feeling the new lives growing there. I held her in my arms once more and we enjoyed a long lovers' kiss. I could taste us both on her lips.
We separated from our tender kiss; I got a couple paper towels from the roll over the sink and wiped the mess off the floor. Carol showed me where to dispose of them, then she shooed me out of her kitchen. "What did you come in here for besides to ravish poor innocent little me, anyway? Get what you came for, and leave me to my work. I can't get anything done with you pestering me."
I must have looked a little crestfallen because she plastered herself to me and kissed me lustily with one of her patented tongue suck jobs and I tasted us both on her again. I felt my penis start to stir, and learned the effect of her little trick was very temporary. We broke the kiss reluctantly. She sighed, "Now get out of here, David. I really do have to get busy with this dinner, and I'll never get it ready with you and Rascal in here distracting me."
She pecked me on the lips, turned me around gave me a playful slap on the butt and said, "Shoo!" I grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed out the door. As I left the room she called after me, "Oh David, send Muffin in, please — she can help me by cleaning the vegetables... or something..."