(This story is the sequel to the Seduction of my Favorite Cougar).

My second cougar is a wild, totally uninhibited, open minded to all sexual experiments 39 year old lawyer named Anay.

She is a tall, sensual woman with delicious natural tits, a magnificent ass, often wears her chestnut hair in a ponytail; she has green eyes and a sultry face with thick, inviting lips. I met her because she was a regular customer at a bar where I work part time while attending college full time on the GI Bill. Between work, school and my frequent sexual romps with Marie and her willing cuckold husband Leo, I did not have much free time but Anay is hard to ignore.

I worked three days during the week, after classes. She came in usually twice a week during Happy Hour, to unwind with a couple of drinks before going home to an empty house for she was in the process of divorcing her husband. Executives on the prowl always tried to buy her drinks but she turned them down, icily.

I got to know her over a period of four months, conversing with her in clusters of small talk between drinks, I gathered that she had been a good time party girl in college but still managed to graduate from law school, went to work for a fat salary, married another lawyer and the childless marriage broke up after nine years.

“For the first two years the marriage was nice,” she said, “Then he had a bad accident and a near death experience and he became a born again super fanatic Christian unbearable to live with and I put up with it a long as I could and over a year ago we separated.”

At this time my relationship with Marie and Leo had blossomed reaching happy orgasms and I was a content man but I also wanted Anay who is extremely sensual. I learned all I could from our chats and archived the information for possible future use.

The moment of opportunity happened on the fifth month since I had first met her; it was not yet Happy Hour when Anay strolled in early, dressed in cream colored business attire and sat at a stool. She smiled at me and ordered a Mojito.

“You are here early.” I said.

“It’s a day to celebrate,” she answered, “As of two hours ago I am officially free, the divorce has occurred.”

“Congrats. Now you are free to date and party and start a new life.”

“I haven’t dated in over ten years,” she said, “I would not know how to date now.”

I placed the Mojito in front of her before firing my opening salvo.

“Would you like me to teach you how to date again?” I asked.

“I could not…” She said, surprised, “I mean I am much older than you.”

“So? I am an adult. You are an adult. What’s the big deal if you are a few years older? My girlfriend is older than you.”

“Older than me!” Anay said, “And you already have a girlfriend, so how come you are hitting on me?”

“Oh, she does not mind me straying and neither does her husband,” I said as I headed to the other end of the bar to serve a couple of new arrivals.

I took my time, knowing that I had totally surprised her; I wanted her to think it over for my direct approach at such a wild level could just as easily work as not work at all and cause huge rejection.

“Is what you just told me all true?” She asked when I returned to her corner of the bar with a second Mojito.

“Sure. You want to meet them?”

“Not on a first date,” she answered laughing.

“So you agree to a first date.”

“My, oh my, you are a bad boy.”

“Guilty. Are you a bad girl?”

“I was wild in college and law school but I’ve been a very boring girl during my married years.”

“Let’s set a time and place for our first date and the end of boredom. How does tomorrow afternoon fit into your schedule?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I drive a scooter. When was the last time you rode a scooter?”

“Since college.”

“We could scooter ride down to South Beach and do lunch at one of the outdoor cafes on Ocean Dive.”

“Sounds good.”

The following day Anay wore sneakers, white jeans that wrapped tightly around her enticing ass and a red halter top, while I wore moccasins, jeans and a polo shirt. We did the scooter ride on Saturday afternoon, ate fresh seafood at a café and broke the ice with conversation. She asked me about life in the Navy and we made small talk, feeling comfortable with each other.

“This is my first date since college.” She said, “I’ve been separated for over a year but I did not date because I did not want to give my husband an excuse to complicate the divorce and yesterday, when I was finally divorced, I felt scared, so new to today’s dating world, so insecure. So this is nice, breaking the ice on a new era of my life.”

I nodded. I really like her as a person. She is very up front and I was enjoying the date.

“I’m feeling good, actually feeling free and daring, so how about going back to my place for a drink?” she asked, seductive smile on her lips..

“How about a joint with the drink? When was the last time you smoked weed?”

“College. Oh, wow….that sounds interesting.”

“I have a few fat joints. Let’s go.”

It was about three in the afternoon on a breezy Saturday when we arrived at her home on the Roads section of Miami, a Spanish colonial cottage with a swimming pool and green foliage that provided privacy from prying eyes. We sat on lounge chairs in her pool deck while we smoked a joint and a half and drank almost a full bottle of a dry white wine before the sexual desires kicked in at full speed.

“So what do we do now?” Anay said, “Are you going to make your move or do we say polite goodbyes and you go home?”

“I’m definite on the move but taking my time, enjoying the anticipation; are you in a hurry?”

She laughed.

“Honey,” She said, “I haven’t had good sex in years and the last three none at all.”

“Then let me entertain you,” I said.

I stood up, five feet away from her, kicked off my moccasins, removed my polo shirt and dropped my pants. I was not wearing underwear and my cock, already was almost within her grasp. Anay was not moving but her eyes were focused on my crotch, on the pulsing shaft of flesh between my legs.

After a few seconds her gaze shifted from my cock to my eyes as she stared at me with a wicked smile.

“You are not subtle,” she said, “You have a most unusual way of making a move on a girl. Very unconventional, but I must say, exciting. “

“Your turn.”

Anay stood up slowly and stripped in front of me, staring into my face as she did so, kicking off her sandals, removing her halter top and allowing her delicious tits to bounce freely.

“Very good, Anay.”

“The best is yet to be seen,” she answered as she removed her jeans, showing a smoothly shaved slit between her legs, then she turned around, doing a full circle, showing me her delicious ass before standing still in front of me, fully exposed.

“Please don’t move,” she said, “let me enjoy as you say, the anticipation.”

To my surprise she moved slowly towards me and began sniffing my body slowly as an animal smells the scent of another animal. It was an unusual move that gave me the feeling sex with this woman was going to be a wild ride.

Her nose rubbed softly against the hairs on my chest and my nipples; she walked around me and her face moved up and down my back barely touching my spine. Her nose rubbed against my ass cheeks and across to my thighs as she smelled my scent. It was somehow, extremely erotic as she smelled my scent and my cock hardened as she smelled my testicles, her nose brushing against my pubic hairs.

Anay straightened up, came around and faced me again.

We embraced naked our tongues linked together, our hands exploring each other’s bodies as her breasts pressed against my chest. While we kissed one of my hands travelled to her mound, caressing the wet slit, fingers probing, two of them entering her as she opened her legs more, offering herself for the taking.

“Your fingers feel good inside my cunt,” she said, “I like being finger fucked… Yeah….I am sooo wet.”

I finger fucked her as we stood on that deck and kissed, which brought Anay her first climax within seconds, her cunt muscles tightening around my fingers, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure not felt in years.

After several climax jolts, Anay kneeled and took my hard shaft in her mouth. She sucked hard and wet, making moaning sounds, enjoying the piece of flesh, licking it, caressing, nibbling and letting it slide on her tongue. As I face fucked I watched her cheeks suck inward when I pulled back and then bulge outward as my stiff cock pushed forward into her hungry mouth. She wanted it rough and I gave it to her hard, my hips pumping my meat into her face with a steady rhythm.

I took my cock out of her mouth and slapped her face with my dick as she groaned in satisfaction and her tongue lashed out seeking my meat until I penetrated her mouth again, the shaft three quarters inside her as she licked and nibbled on my hardness. She used her mouth daringly, nibbling and licking the cock head as it moved back and forth on her tongue. I ran my hands through her hair, guiding her head as I fucked her mouth.

She was wild. Anay deep throated me, making some choking sounds but continuing her sucking in a frantic sexual frenzy. Her fingernails clawed my ass hard as she pulled me closer, her face pressed against my belly, her mouth moving savagely back and forth on my shaft. She was enjoying my cock with raw, brutal gusto.

“Oh, baby,” I said as my dick slid on her tongue, “I like to fuck your mouth. Yeah, that’s it, nibble the tip, lick…the underside… I like to fuck your face…..yeah.”

Such a frenzied sucking soon brought my orgasm, my cock twitching inside her mouth, spurting cream down her throat. She swallowed most of the load, pulled my meat out of her face and with a look of total enjoyment rubbed my wet dick against her cheeks, forehead and neck.

“You like the way I suck cock, eh, bad boy? Now let’s go to my shower and continue the afternoon.”

She had a tiled sunken tub with four shower heads on the side walls, spraying water at adjustable levels. Very luxurious and erotic; we soaped each other, lathering our bodies as we fondled flesh.

“Are you going to fulfill my fantasies, bad boy?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Now I am going to eat your ass. That’s one of my fantasies.”

I did not see that one coming.

Anay went down on her knees and soaped and licked my ass, her tongue moving up and down my crack. She bit my ass cheeks teasingly, then slightly harder. Her tongue lapped my rosebud asshole, afterwards moving to my balls.

“Stand up,” I said.

Not fifteen minutes had passed since I had climaxed in her mouth, but her wild ass licking had made me hard once more so I fucked her standing up inside the shower, her back against the tile wall, her legs wide open as my cock slid into her slit, all the way hard and the very first thrust was enough to make her come in a jolting spasm as she screamed in pleasure.

“Climaxing already?” I said as I looked at her face, eyes shiny with raw lust, “I have plenty of cock for you. You like the way my dick feels inside you? You like the way my bad boy cock moves inside your cunt?”

“Oh, yes….fuck me bad boy, slam that thick fat prick into my cunt…Fuck me.”

She pumped her hips as she wrapped her legs around me. She put both hands behind my head and pulled me to her for a wet, passionate kiss as we developed a good rhythm, our hips moving back and forth, bumping, grinding, my hands holding her waist, guiding her to my tempo, her hips bucking, fucking back hard while we wet kissed each other under the water spray of the wall showers.

“Fuck me hard bad boy,” she said as I pumped into her, her back pressed against the shower wall, “Use me like a whore. I need to be fucked…I crave cock! I like to be used like a fuck toy… you animal, you are going to make me come again…..yes, fuck me….use me… oh, you are so hard….I am your fuck toy. You can use me any way you want.”

She came again and again, the last one at the same time as I shot my second load into her, pushing deep. We barely had enough strength to dry ourselves and stumble to her bed, where we both stared at each other and the popcorn texture on the ceiling, barely speaking, exhausted.

We drifted in and out of sleep for about a half hour before she spoke.

“Bad boy,” she finally said, “You are everything I hoped for and then some.”

“The date is not over. It’s only five o’clock, sun still out.”

“Stay for the night. Fuck me silly.”

“Well I am supposed to meet with Marie and Leo. If you want, I could call them and we could meet tonight, all of us; now, whether you say yes or not I still want you to know that for me this has been the best first date ever.”

Anay laughed and nodded her head.

“Ever make it with two men?” I asked Anay.

She smiled wickedly.

“In college,” she said, “Senior year. I was pretty wild and I had two neighbors, also students who caught me in between relationships. We got together about a dozen times. It was incredibly erotic.”

“So should I call Marie and Leo and tell them I am bringing an uninhibited vixen to their house tonight?”

“Sure. Let’s do it. I’ll go to the kitchen to get us a couple of beers while you call them.”

“I have to go to the deck. I left my phone there when I stripped down.”

When I called Marie answered the phone.

“I am bringing a guest,’ I told her, “we will be a foursome tonight.”


“A woman, her name is Anay and she’s totally into sex.”

“I….surely you don’t expect…”

“I do. You will enjoy it. We will be there around eight thirty.”

I hung up and grabbed the beer that Jen had procured from the kitchen fridge.

“Have you ever done it with a woman?” I asked Anay.

“Years ago when I was in college and law school; the first one was my roommate in my sophomore year, Terry. We got drunk at a party went back to our place and decided to experiment. It was pleasant and we did it four or five times more over the rest of the school year. Then in law school at Stetson, I did it with Sarah, whom I met in a study group. We got together a few times until she graduated and moved away. I like women but I prefer men.”

“You are going to have plenty of both tonight.”

Anay asked about Marie and Leo and I explained some of the details, emphasizing the most erotic moments of the three months we had been together as a threesome. Anay also talked about her past.

“My first couple of years of marriage we had enjoyable sex even if it was vanilla sex but I did not mind because he was a loving, good husband. Then, after the accident and the religious fanaticism, sex became missionary position with lack of enthusiasm and a lot of guilt on his part. I have survived these years masturbating while I looked at porn on the internet.”

“You never cheated on him?”

“Once I did, several years ago. I have had huge desires but getting caught cheating would have meant a serious problem so it’s been masturbation time for a long time. The only time I cheated happened during a weekend law seminar at a Tampa hotel. My husband could not go and I went alone. I bumped into Wilson, whom I had known and dated and fucked twice during my law school days. Wilson is now an attorney in Tampa. We talked and had drinks on Friday, chatted and spent an agreeable time. By Saturday afternoon we skipped the seminar and stayed in my hotel room until the following day. That was my best sexual experience in all my married years. I sucked his cock and licked his ass and opened my legs so he could put his cock in there, inside me, deep inside me and fuck me hard and he did and that was my last great fuck until now.”

“Good fuck story,” I said, “With me every week will be a sexual adventure.”

“Oh, yeah, fulfill my fantasies.”

“I hope one of them is to be fucked up the ass.”

“Sure is, bad boy. I am one of those women who enjoy being sodomised.”

“Tonight, for sure; we do not have to be there until after eight so that gives us time to go eat and stop by the toy store.”

“Toy store?”

“Sex toy store; I’m going to buy you a strap-on.”

“Oh, goodie,”

We left my scooter at her place and took her car, a mint green Beamer. I was dressed in the same polo shirt, jeans and moccasins I had worn that morning but she changed into a blue blouse and a wide red skirt and sandals. Anay wore no undergarments. We stopped at a sex shop and bought a strap on with a veined cock made of solid thick rubber before heading to a seafood restaurant by the Miami River.

“I feel free,” She said while ate, “It was not just lack of sex. It was everything. My husband would bitch about TV programs I watched, saying they were immoral. Every conversation became a religious conversation somehow….he drove me crazy.”

“That’s over. You are free now.”

“And bad boy, you can fuck me anytime you want. I had more orgasms today than in the last ten years put together. You are the best I’ve ever had and back in my single days I had a few.”

From the restaurant I called Leo.

“How’s Marie? Can she hear this conversation?”

“She’s taking a shower. She’s nervous because a woman is a factor she had never considered but she’s willing although she has her doubts.”

“It will be good for all four us,”

After I hung up I said to Anay that she had to take her time with Marie, who had never been with a woman before. Anay nodded and smiled, followed by a sensual licking of her lips.

“I am going to eat her as she has never been eaten by any man before,” she said.

“I don’t doubt it,” I answered. I felt extremely lucky to have bagged two very nice open minded cougars starved for cock and sexual adventures.

We took our time but still arrived fifteen minutes early at a quarter past eight. Leo answered our doorbell ringing dressed in moccasins, green Dockers and a yellow shirt. When I introduced him to Anay, his eyes opened in delighted surprise as he undressed her in his mind. She gave him a flirting smile and an introductory peck on the cheek as we entered his home.

Marie came down the stairs wearing a very sexy green sarong with a matching top that showed her nipples hard against the fabric. When I saw her, I kissed her long on her open mouth while Anay and Leo stared at us. Afterwards the introduction to Anay was slightly awkward as Marie was impressed with the woman’s looks, but uncertain of the approaching sexual encounter.

The living room lights in their house had been changed to blue bulbs, dimmed low, casting a pale glow that made everything appear as the scene of a movie filmed in blue light. Soft music came from a wall unit and the living room table contained an ashtray, four crystal goblets and a large bottle of white wine resting inside a shiny ice bucket.

We started with soft conversation, breaking the ice, becoming comfortable with each other, smoking weed and drinking wine, talking about work, school, foods we liked and movies seen. After a half hour or so, I decided to try a slow dance with Marie. As her husband and Anay watched us I pressed my body against Marie and my lips kissed her neck and face as one of my hands caressed her sarong covered ass. Marie started breathing hard as soon as her tits pressed against my chest.

“May I cut in?” Anay asked.

“Of course,” I said. Marie had expected to be replaced as my partner, but when she realized Anay would be her new dance partner, her eyes opened in stunned surprise.

I sat down on the couch to watch them dance in the blue light. Leo was bug eyed on a chair, mesmerized by the developing scene.

Their first dance number was slow, Anay whispering softly to a somewhat rigid Marie. The second number was a big band sound also for slowly dancing and Anay began kissing Marie’s face and neck with soft movements, nibbling her ear as the apprehensive woman began to melt under the sensation. Marie looked at her husband and smiled then winked at me.


No one dies, no one is maimed, no one is injured, hell no one gets anything bad. sorry about that, next time i will BTB, but not this time.


My twin brother was dead. In 32 years of life this was the first time he was not with me on the earth.

We stood there the hospital, next to his bed, touching his withering body, as his wife and daughters held his hand. I had my hand on his shoulder as he looked at me and with his last dying breath asked me to take care of his wife and daughters; and I said “yes” and he smiled at me and then he was gone. Everyone heard his request and my response. We all cried together. I felt a part of me died, the cosmic tie was broken for the first time.

My older twin brother, by nine minutes, was gone. We did not even share the same birthday, which freaked people out. He was born just a few minutes before midnight and three minutes after than it was a new day and six minutes after that I was born. Identical twins, with different birthdays, is what we were. It gave us two days to celebrate because our parents would have a party for each of us; not many twins have that! The really best part is that it was a leap year and he was born on February 28 and I was born on February 29. People went nuts when I celebrated my birthday on March 1, but only three years out of four. Now that is way cool. So if we went out to a bar on our birthday I would bet the bartender that I was entitled to a free drink for me and my brother, if he refused to give me one on my birthday. That is a bartender sort of thing. Then I would point to the calendar, there is always a calendar, and ask where February 29 is on the calendar and not only did I get a drink but my brother did too. Or we would walk into a bar on his birthday and we would both get drinks because they guy would say twins and pour us both a drink on the house. It worked that way for my brother too. We were always pulling that stunt on people.

We were more than brothers, we were best friends and we had this thing, this cosmic link, and that joined us. I knew something was wrong before I even got a call. I was packed and on my way when Mali called me on my cell.

An accident had taken him from us.

Because we, I still think of my brother as we, were still young the funeral was a huge affair with literally thousands of people from the small towns around where he lived and we grew up, turning out to honor him and say good-bye. Mali, his wife of almost eleven years and now his widow was from Thailand and she and her parents had moved to our town when we were in the tenth grade. My brother Jonathan was immediately smitten with her and for the rest of his life there would be no other “true love” for him. Oh, there was the occasional split for a while and they both dated others, and had some casual sex during the separate times, but the real love was Jonathan and Mali and they ended up together knowing what was out there and knowing that it was nothing compared to what they had together.

But an accident took all that away. The funeral was as much a celebration of their life together as it was his passing. All of the family that was alive was there. He was a much beloved man.

Mali had decided to relocate and immediately put her house up for sale. I’ve lived in a different city, almost 100 miles away, for more than four years so she decided to stay with me for a while and bring along her two ten year old twin daughters, my nieces, to also live with me. After all they heard his request, my agreement, and they were my responsibility now too.

Mali’s parents no longer lived in the town and my parents had died, so there was no family for them there. I was it, at least in this part of the world. They did come for the funeral and tried their best to get Mali and the twins to come to live with them but that was a lost cause. Eventually they returned to Florida.

I had plenty of room because I had a nice size of house and since the divorce it was all mine. Despite the fact that Mali’s daughters would have to go to school in my town, the move was made. They hated to leave their home but they were familiar with mine and my neighborhood and town, as well as the kids in the neighborhood. After all we were a real family and they had spent many years here for weekends and summers, and vacations too.

[ALERT -- ALERT Ok people, listen up, this is called a limited flashback. Sort of like when you remember something that happened in your past, well the characters in my story do that too. I will warn you a few times then I expect you to pick up on it all by yourselves, just like big boys and girls. I thought of having a little cartoon character standing there with a balloon and the words flashback inside of it and the string going into the cartoon character's mouth but it was probably a little overkill. Then I thought that some of you would not even get it if I put up a fucking flashing light. Yes I know I could do it in chronological order but then you would know everything before I want you too, and so would the characters in the story. This is called "suspense and surprise." It is also called foreshadowing for you wannabe English teachers. ALERT -- ALERT -- DANGER WILL ROBINSON -- OK GET IT? -- I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOU CONFUED! I have been accused of confusing people.]

I had been there when the twins were born and despite being so far away the last four years I had seen them constantly since their birth. I was always in their life. I baby sat them, and I changed their diapers and fed them. I sang them songs and took them to the doctors. I carried them around when they were so tired they could not sleep, they were part of my family, my life.

Weekends were frequently spent with one of us at the other’s house. Jonathan and Mali helped me during my divorce and it was only right I helped them now, as I promised. That is what family does. Funny but it is hard to remember my brother is gone.

[ALERT - ALERT -- ok the flashback part is over -- those of you that get easily confused can relax for a while because we are back to current time with some explanation. Whew -- no confusion now I hope. I do have people who get confused with my stories and probably with life too, but this is just a story. I am afraid that I can't help you with your life.]

Mali had decided that she was going to go back to Thailand for an extended visit so moving in with me and letting the twins stay and go to school here sounded like a good temporary idea. When she got back she would take the money from the sale of her house and any settlement from the accident and buy a home close by me, or not. It was not like my brother could give her away; I was there to help and only help. If she stayed around I would be an anchor for her and my nieces, until she married again. Damn that would be hard to take, Mali marrying a man who was not my twin brother. Well when she did it would be my job to make sure his daughters never forgot about him and what a wonderful father her was.

For now, the girls were given their own rooms as was their mother. Actually they were given the entire house and I got my own room. Living with three females results in loss of – - well everything you thought was yours. I had originally bought the house with an eye toward lots of children so it was not like I did not have enough room. Actually they had enough room and I was sort of short on room myself.

We spent the first few months getting used to each other in our daily life. Even though we saw each other constantly before Jonathan died, there is something different when you live together. School took up much of our time and then there was something called work, which I had to do every day. Mali did now what she did when Jonathan was alive; she took care of the twins and the house. Even that is strange. “The twins” had become their alternative name, just like it had been with Jonathan and I. Some twins don’t like that name but others revel in it. Jonathan and I loved it and the twins do too.

I was an engineer and was able to do a lot of telecommuting but still I had to go into the office two times a week and out on site to look at the projects and come up with solutions to real life problems the rest of the week. The telecommuting was just my not having to stop into the office on the way to the field, so I actually ended up commuting five days a week to work. Work just changed addresses for me. Once in a while I used the home office.

It was fun dealing with the two angels and learning what ten year old girls do every day is a feat in patience for a parent, or an uncle. Mali handled it well but she had been a ten year old girl and as a ten year old boy I did not pay attention to them at all. “Yuck” or “Yucky” was part of the vocabulary for a ten year old boy when talking about ten year old girls.

There were sports after school, and dance lessons, music lessons and trips to the mall because at ten you really need mall time. There were friends I did not like and they did; and almost friends that I liked and they didn’t. At ten they are not small adults they are more like large babies. You have to treat them firmly but not break their spirit. You want to keep them safe but you have to know they have to learn what it feels like to fall off the bicycle all by themselves, but you still try to catch them when they do fall. I still remember that hollow watermelon sound their heads make when the fall on the floor when they slip or are learning to walk. They have to go through it but if you knew when it was going to occur you would be right there with them to catch every misstep.

I, on the other hand, had a few problems and homework was one of them. Getting the kids to do it was a pain so every night we sat down after dinner at the same table to go over what the assignment was and if they did it. Mali would bring desert and getting desert was part of doing homework. Ok it was bribery but it worked. Part of my job was to make sure they did it right and understood it. Usually they did it immediately when they got home, but with sports and all the other things they had to do, well after dinner would have to do. No TV or phone calls or computer until it was done.

But my real problem was the words they got used to hearing, “You are not wearing that out of this house.” Those words were said by me so many times that everyone would recite them with me. It is hard telling ten year old girls that what they wear on TV are “costumes” and not everyday ware, even if the program shows the characters wearing it “everyday.” I mean even the Disney channel can look like “young slut whores in training” sometimes.

I was hit with the obligatory “You are not MY father” or “You are not OUR father” more than once. I did not bat an eye, or shrink in shame and fear. They were immediately hit with, “Young lady as long as you live under my roof you will follow my rules.”

All I had to do was remember those stupid fucking things my parents said to me and repeat them back. To them it was new, they would learn. There were times I almost broke down laughing at some of the things I said. It even confused Mali as she did not grow up here. She was a great mother and she kept them in line on the girl things that are outside a man’s pay grade.

Then the also obligatory “MOM!” from one or both of them, as if I was a big brother pulling on their pigtails. We had a division of labor in our home. Notice now it is OUR home. It started out as MY home, went quickly to OUR home and any day now I fully expected it to be THEIR home and I am a guest in it. I think it is a woman nesting thing that causes them to do stuff like that. Curtains showed up with flowers on them. These flower shit things, potpourri I think they call it, showed up in the bathrooms, even mine. Frilly cushions started breeding all over my home. The windows got opened every day for “fresh air” and the house lost that wonderful fresh cooked steak smell that I loved to inhale when I came home and opened the front door. There wasn’t a damn water stain on a single piece of furniture and look as hard as I could not one damn empty beer can could be found anyplace outside the recycling tub. I would turn on the TV and have to listen to Nickelodeon, or Disney, or Thailand Today, or the cooking or better homes and gardens, or the weather channel. Now the TV had the censor on it and no porn stations were allowed. The fucking computers had NetNanny and all my favorite sites were blocked. No one would tell me who set the passwords on the cable TV or the computers. The computers were the worst because it was set for the cable and not the individual computers. The closest I ever got was “Not everything is good for little girls,” from Mali. There was not one darn way I could argue with that logic. I did not even ask for the passwords, I figured by that time we had reached the third stage I had mentioned; I was a guest in THEIR home.

But I digress; back to the division of labor. What Mali wanted to do she did and what she did not want to do, I did, if she said I could do it. This was different than what happened between my Ex and I. Despite my lack of impute in any decision, other than when to take a shower, wait I don’t even get that one, I have to wait for the girls to have theirs first, I think I liked this new way much better.

Actually they were great kids but they had a loss as we all did and their world was now different, very different. I went from being an uncle to a father figure, but more of that later. It was just lucky I was there to fill in until someone else came along. Damn, I did not want to think of that. I mean I loved those little girls and it would break my heart to have to watch them being taken away from me. As it is now I know what my big brother put up with.

We went out to movies and dinners and even parks and the zoo. We took hikes and had picnics. It was not a sedentary life and I enjoyed their company even if it was brought about under the worst possible circumstances. It is not like we did not already know and love each other, we did. It was that they just needed time to completely take over my life and home and make it theirs.

To an outside observer the children had a gift because I looked like their father, but I didn’t, not to them. They could always tell us apart, no matter if I was talking or not. Jonathan and I even wore the other’s clothes and they could recognize us. We took still pictures and they could recognize who was who. We got creative and had two pictures of the same one of us put into one photograph with different clothes on and they said it was the same person twice and said which one of us it was. Only the twins and Mali could do that, not even our parents could.

And then there was the therapy. I am not sure who needed it most, the girls, Mali or me. We went as a family and individually. It is hard losing a twin, there is a special connection. Then Mali and the girls needed help with their loss. Sometimes they were together and sometimes it was just Mali and a few times just the twins. It was never one twin without the other. We faced these problems daily and we faced them together. It helped that I was a wimp and they could walk all over me.

Some days one or more of us would go into a funk and nothing could pull us out of it, it just had to pass. There were times that I just held the girls and felt their little bodies shake with emotion and the tears just flowed; at other times it was me holding Mali, and then there were the times one or all of them held me. We needed each other.

I tried to be there for them but I was not Mali’s husband or the twin’s father. But as far as the twin’s were concerned I was damn close to being a father. I did what I could to make it a loving home environment but they ended up helping me as much as I helped them. It was their idea for the flowers in my room. I never mentioned I was allergic to one of the flowers, but Mali realized it because Jonathan was allergic to the same one and told the girls not to bring in that one. They were wonderful girls to have around, despite our little dust up’s, and I loved them like all get out.

I had no children and I always thought of them more like daughters, which is probably one of the reasons why I was divorced. My Ex thought I was spending too much time with my own twin, or some such crap as that. I think she just wanted to breed with this black dude she was bumping uglies with.


It was in the eight month at my house, ok their house, when Mali came into my bedroom. Mali had on a long terrycloth robe tied around her waist. I sleep naked, I don’t care who is staying with me. She woke me from a sound sleep, it was after midnight.

“I can’t sleep. I have difficulty sleeping alone. I miss your brother. Can I sleep with you?” Mali said.

I have to admit that I was at a loss for female companionship at the time. I was not going to bring a strange woman home to bed her while Mali and the girls were living here. Mali’s trip to Thailand appears to have gone south, at least for now, and this was my, our, their, new family dynamic. And it just did not feel right to go out and do some dating. If my brother’s widow wanted to sleep in my bed who was I to object. Ok I wanted a woman in my bed, even if sex was not going to happen.


Then I thought back. I had always been more of the big tit, big ass, fair skin, blonde bimbo type of guy. Frankly I didn’t understand my brother’s concept of beauty when it came to a short, brown, skinny, assless, titless, Asian’s with straight black hair, and black almond shaped eyes. Round blue eyes was my idea of beauty.

It had been a few years since my blonde slut decided that sharing that big ass and tits was better than saving them for me and with the help of a few friends, and an eight and one half pound black baby, I was able to get the house, save all my retirement, and use all of the community assets to pay off the bills that the bitch ran up. She walked away from our marriage debt free but with nothing else other than her black baby and no black daddy to help pay for it.


So now I am going to let into my bed exactly what I don’t find attractive. I am damn stupid or am I just horny? Maybe she just wanted what she said, to sleep with someone. Why not sleep with the twin brother of her husband; he looked like her dead husband. Except I did not look anything like Jonathan to Mali or the twins, they could always tell the difference.

“Sure Mali, get into the bed.” I said as I threw the sheets off of me. Even with only the light coming in the window she could see I was naked. My cock was laying across my thigh and she had a good look at it while it started to expand. I was getting excited watching her standing by my bed staring at my hardening cock and telling me she wanted to sleep with me. I guess that shit about a type did not always apply, I was getting heavy thinking about sleeping with a woman again.

She was not what I wanted in a woman. She was way to brown and way to skinny for me and had no substance to her, but we needed to hold each other and that was good for us both.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I had lived with her for eight months. We shared a home not just a house. We had known each other since the tenth grade and she had been family for eleven years. I had not dated for one reason and one reason alone, I thought I had fallen in love with her, but I would never make a first move on my brother’s widow. I fell in love with HER not sex or passion, but her. I was fighting the feeling, she did not need her brother in law, the man she should be able to look to for support and protection to become a letch for her to run from.

We fell asleep holding each other but that was not the way we woke up.

I woke up with Mali laying with her back to me and my arm over her and a very small breast being rubbed by my hand. It was pleasing but not as pleasing as the fact that my cock was rock hard and it was nestled between her open legs with her hand rubbing it all around a now very wet pussy opening. I knew that I was putting out a lot of precum and she was probably wet too but I sort of had my hands full, ok not full but otherwise occupied.

“Push baby” she said as she felt me stir from my sleep. “Not too hard thought, but push a little baby” she repeated.

My face was near hers and she turned and kissed me, not passionately with a tongue but with real fire. “Mali, are you sure? Do you know who I am?” I asked. I did not want her to think I was Jonathan because she just woke up. And I wanted her to think about what she was going to do.

“Franklin, your name is Franklin. Push baby but not to hard or fast” she said as my cock head pushed past her ring and into her pussy. “You promised to take care of us, and this is part of taking care of us. Push baby but not too hard, you are really big and I am not used to this yet. The last time I was stretched I was having a baby, ok that was even more than you, a lot more than you, but you get the idea. It has been a very long time.” I realized that Mali had not dated either in all this time.

“Damn she even had to toss in a little dig, just like a wife. It was very much like we were married. That is husband and wife talk” Franklin thought with a chuckle.

By then I was too into it to stop. I have not dated and was playing father and I guess husband too, but without the sex, or is that just being a husband?

I had been there for dinners and we talked about our day and our plans but they were short term plans. Things like what we were going to do for the weekend or scheduling things around the girl’s school year. She gave me lists of “honey do’s” and I gladly did them with her. We bought new furniture and landscaped the front and back yards to meet her understand of beauty. My life had completely changed since she and the twins had come into it like they are now. Even if not having Mali in my bed I would have to say that my life has changed for the best.

I did push and pull too. Despite my preference for other types of women I was definitely enjoying my time with Mali. I loved her and maybe that is why I enjoyed myself so much. She was tight and wet and I needed her, I needed her to love me back and I hoped this was it.

“I want you to cum for me baby” Mali said. “I want you to cum fast, and then I want you to take me looking down on me” she continued as she ran her fingers up and down my cock trigger. She got her wish fast, I went off like a cannon. She knew exactly there to find the damn thing. It is like a G spot for a woman.

I was getting smaller and she spun around and licked and sucked me hard again, well from chubby to woody, and pulled me over on top of her. She did not have to pull very hard as I was very, very, cooperative. Now I was on top and she guided me into her.

“This is better” she said as the slickness of my cum made the way easier than before. “Deeper but not to hard baby” she said. And as I did as she said I was soon as deep as her body appeared to let me go.

We kissed and I tasted myself and her on her mouth.


This was only the second Asian woman I had ever been with. The first had been a whore at my brother’s bachelor party. I remembered that it was one hell of a party. He was getting married so he was not going to cheat with anyone, but I was not getting married and the whores looked good enough to fuck. I could not even get him to take a blow job. I was his best man and he had another friend that helped me set this up. I decided on a Thai theme, after all it was for him and not me. My bachelor party had only big tit blonds; his were all sexy brown Thai dancers.

When I say Thai dancers that is what I mean. You know all that gold [think brass] long fingers and the crazy gold and enamel half masks, that kind of shit. They danced for us as we ate and then they fucked us. It was a bachelor party after all.

First I got a blow job by some skinny titless chick and then a good fucking. That describes all of them thought; it looked they came out of a cookie cutter for skinny titless assless women. We had private rooms for the action, as I am not into communal fucking and I don’t think anyone else was either. She sucked my cock some and when I got hard she put on a rubber for me and got on her back. Not much excitement there, just a fuck. As I tried to kiss her she grabbed my cock and guided it into her but moved her face away from mine. No kissing allowed, that was to intimate for a whore. She was tight and we had to go slow then too. I remember those small breasts disappearing as she was on her back and her wrapping her legs around me. Soon I was deep inside of her and was fucking like anyone would fuck a whore, no worry in the world. I came ok, it was not a bad fuck, what fuck is. Ok some are but I am trying to be positive here.

When I got off of her she was wide open and my cock came out without a rubber on it and cum drained from her whore hole.

She looked down and did not appear to be too surprised. “On pill too,” she said in a husky whisper.

“Fuck me again.” she said. Then she sucked my cock until I was getting hard and flipped over onto her hands and knees, and offered me a little doggy. This time it was slow and steady. I already went bareback so I did it again this time. What the hell; if I was going to get something I already got it. I would see the doctor Monday and not fuck anyone until I got a clean bill of health. It was lucky that I did not catch anything, I was clean.

This was a pretty enjoyable time, I just slow fucked her for at least half an hour and this time she had one orgasm after another and I was deep into it. I felt her pussy spasm over and over and on her last orgasm, as her pussy was wide open and more than ready as I dumped a huge load into her that must have hit the back of her throat. That was one great fuck.

She sucked me hard again and we did missionary one more time and that took at least another hour. I never did get it all the way into her though. I was young so what was new? She was still wide open, loaded with slick cum, and it was easy going. The first time may have been pump and dump but these last two were anything but. They were as warm and loving as any sex I had ever had in my life. There was kissing this time and fondling, nipping, and legs and arms around the other forming one person from the two of us. I would have preferred her taking that damn mask off; but all of them kept them on, something about not being recognized in the street later, family honor, something about an Asian thing. Finally that ended too.

She sucked my cock clean but it was not going to rise to the occasion a fourth time. She pushed me out of bed and into the shower. I took a good one and when I came out all the girls were gone.

Everyone was pretty happy, and we got bro home in time to sober up and spend the day getting ready for the wedding the next day. He did toss his cookies a few times. I stayed with him that day and the next morning we changed there at the house and I actually got us to the church on time.

He asked me about my time and I told him it was ok but for me it was comfort and not speed so if he did not mind I would leave all of Asia to him and I would take the rest of the world. He got a kick out of that. He told me he only wanted one from Asia and I could have the rest. “No way bro” I told him. “No more trips to Asia for me. That is your thing.” He told me I did not know what I was missing and I told him I was missing a big ass and some big tits with a blond attached to them.


Now that was a memory, and now I was having sex with my brother’s widow and it was only the second Asian I had ever had sex with in my life. She was pretty good too, once she got my cock half way in.

Now I was on top and trying my best to make it as good as I could for Mali. I had never desired her, not even for a second, but now I did. I felt for her, I was in love with her. The kisses were sweet, even if they were a little salty and with a touch of pussy, and the loving was also passionate. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and shifted to take as much as me into her as possible.

“Deeper baby” she told me. “This is yours now, my body is yours now. My heart is yours now. Deeper my love but slowly please slowly. Take them, take me, I am yours now.” She repeated over and over.

When I reached as deep as possible she shifted and all of a sudden the rest of me slid even further inside of her. I must have pushed past her cervix and I began the slow rhythm of love making, and this time I could feel her enjoying it and then her orgasms, more than one. Having cum not long before, I was able to hold out longer and I wanted her to enjoy this, our first time together. I also made sure I did not just pound like crazy into her and bruise her. Sore was ok, injured was a definite “No, No.”

Some time between her getting into bed and my waking up about ready to enter her I realized just how much I loved her. I was not going to say it first, I did not want to be a substitute for my twin, but all these months together, living as a family, well I just fell in love. If she had never said anything I don’t think I would have either, but she did and I let her know how I felt.

We kissed more, we spoke words of love, we made passionate love, and we came the last time together. Then she surprised me and told me that she wanted to do it one more time and she again sucked me hard, but it did take a while. Looking down on her beautiful eyes as she looked up at me and saw the pleasure she was giving me caused her to smile. “Doggy” she said as she turned around and wiggled her little brown butt.

Yes we did the dog, but this time I was standing by the bed with her on it. I wanted a lot of room and did not want to make too much noise. I wanted to feel her entire body as we did it and I wanted to feel her breasts, small as they were, hanging down. There is just something so sexy about that, as well as a woman’s hips after she has had a baby.

Again it was slow and deep and we finally ended up as we started, on our sides with me inside of her, and she drifting off to sleep with my cock having just spurted inside of her one last time. I held her in my arms and nuzzled her neck.

It was lucky that the twins were spending the night at a friends a few doors down, or maybe Mali planned it that way, but in the morning we woke together.

“I am sore” she said as she hit Franklin on the arm.

“So am I” Franklin said back. “Damn you are tight.”

She smiled at him. They spent the rest of the day doing domestic things as always but now he would reach out and touch her, not intimately, well intimately, but not in intimate places. It was lovingly and strangely familiar, like it was something they had been doing all their lives. Mali moved gingerly when no one was watching and Franklin offered to get her anything she might need to help her. She smiled and told him that nothing would help and kissed him on the cheek. It was not a casual kiss.

The girls came home to torture them some with being ten and then it was off to the movies with four other girls and Franklin and Mali as chaperons. Pizza was after the movies and then it was back to one of the girl’s house for the second sleep over. Sunday it would be back to the grind of being ten and preparing for another day in school.

That night Mali came to his bed again. The night before had added a dimension to their lives and tonight would expand that.

I reached over and grabbed her robe pulling it open. I saw her now in a different light. Her dark skin shone through the off-white Teddy she is wearing. Her nipples were dark and sticking out as if each one was half of a mandarin orange. Looking down I could see the same off-white color of her nylons and garter. She was not wearing panties and her slit was excited and partially open and glistening with her juices. I could smell her excitement and maybe that was why I was immediately hard, because I smelled a woman in heat. With the robe open her scent spread throughout the room.

Her eyes never left my cock; which was now to its full eight inches in length and almost three inches across. Yes I had measure it.

I ran my hands up and down her leg, and into the space between, running a finger over her leaking slit. It was sparsely covered in black fine hair. She took in sharp breaths as my fingers danced over her hair and the treasures underneath. I taped her clit tenderly, her breathing changed again.

She reached her hand out and touched my cock and then wrapped her hand around it, not being able to touch finger tip to finger tip.

“Oh I have missed him,” Mali said with a smile.

“It has only been a day” I said.

She got into the bed and bet over to kiss the head and then nibble all around it. She had a small mouth but her lips were fat and full, like a lot of Asians, think Michelle Malkin, and the thought hit me that if I ever got my cock real hard into her mouth it would not come out until I had cum in her and that thought made it even harder. With her lips at the open all the time I thought she could just cover the head and suck like a straw. She licked, kissed and even nibbled around it and I reciprocated by pulling her legs over me and indulging in some tasty Thai oral delights. She came in my mouth and now I turned her around to face me.

She was on top. “It is very big, and I have to go slow, even after last night.” She said again remembering last night.

Even thought my brother and I were identical twins there was one thing that was not identical and that was cock size. He was five inches and thin while I was eight and wide. Hey we were twins we measured and compared.

“Have you ever had one this size?” I asked her, being prideful.

“Only once, before I was married,” she told me.

Now this surprised me because she had been with my brother since the tenth grade and they married after college; so that means she fucked someone else. I just put out of my mind that they had actually dated others during that time. I was getting pissed that she cheated on him.

“Did Jonathan know?” I asked.

Still on top of me and with the head of my cock trying to hide inside of her she said: “Yes, he did. It never happened again and he knew that. We did not discuss it after it happened. He had other women too and we did not discuss them.” Mali told me as she panted at the excited exertion in getting my cock into her. Despite last night she was still very tight even as wet as we both were.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

By now she had the head into her and was riding up and down, letting my size stretch her slowly and not hurt. We kissed passionately and I began to rub all of her body, above and below her sexy nightgown. I love a woman on her knees even if she is over me. The silk felt good sliding over her skin. I even sucked her puffy nipples, making her moan along with me.

I ran my hands all over her legs until the nylon ended and her soft warm skin filled my hands, and in the measured foreplay I was now noticing how different it felt from the rounder women I was used to. Not worse or bad, just different.

“Not at first I did not like it but later, it was ok.” She said, but she had a funny smile on her face as she looked down on me.

I got tired of being half ridden so I flipped her over and started to give her a fucking. She needed to get nice and wet and one hell of a lot looser to get me all in and I gave her a half an inch at a time and then backed off. I knew I was big for her so I took my time but I knew better than she did how to use the equipment. She could go cowgirl once I was inside of her and got her nice and loose again, just like last night.

“Is this better?” I asked.

I kept kissing her and sucking her nipples, you could not actually call them tits, and rubbing her skin and her nylon clad legs. Once her passions were fully aroused she accepted me easily, with no problems accommodating my size. Still I went slow and no hard pounding. I cared for this woman, I loved this woman, she was the mother of my nieces and my brother’s widow and we needed each other now and I was not fucking some whore. It was sex, but I wanted to let her know it was loving sex. She had given herself to me last night and now I was giving myself to her in my own way.

“Yes, this is much better, this is much better.” She said and pushed herself so that I was again meeting her thrusts and she was vibrating.

The first time we orgasmed that night it was together again. She was pulsing around my cock and it was so tight that I exploded as she did. I sure hoped she was on the pill or she would be pregnant for sure. Funny, that my brother got her pregnant on their honeymoon but they never had another child. Well two is enough I guess.

After I was spent I turned us over so she was on top and I was still chubby and inside of her. As she laid on me we kissed even more.

“If I suck your little cock will it get hard enough to do it again?” she asked.

Just the thought of her sucking my cum and pussy drenched cock turned me on so much I got hard immediately.

“Well I guess it would,” she laughed as she sat up on a very hard cock. “Somehow I don’t think you need any help right now.” She added. “Maybe later I will I will suck you, after you cum in me again.”

After hearing that, my cock twitched; and I thought “I must repay that courtesy if it ever happens” with a chuckle.

It was obvious to both of us that we were getting comfortable with being intimate after only two times. It was becoming more than sex, it was becoming loving and fun. We did it the opposite of most people. We knew everything about each other first, and then we made love. I always had the feeling that she knew more than I did.

Then she sat up and rode me soft and then hard and then rubbed back and forth with my cock inside of her so her clit was rubbing on my cock hair. She made squeaking noises through a few orgasms and then she stopped, resting on me. I had not yes cum again.

Ever so slowly she pulled off of me, letting my cock leave an open passage in its wake. I was rock hard and she bent down and licked it and sucked at the head for a minute then said “doggy,” and went to all fours.

We loved doggy, that is what started our love making, and I pounded her hard then soft and then hard, by now she was used to me. Then I did slow and fast. I even stopped a few times to lick her pussy. Yes I had cum in her pussy but she did not mind licking my cock after I got out of her so what the hell, it gave her pleasure and me too. And that body, I had come to look with much pleasure at her brown body, lithe, but so womanly. But I did not fuck her too hard, she would be sore again in the morning. Now, feelings of not hurting her came into my mind; not just feeling of fucking and not just getting off, but actual feelings of care. I wanted for us to have pleasure but not at the expense of causing her pain. Ok I did think it might be nice to give that cute little brown ass a spanking but, well you know what I mean.

I pulled her nipples and played with her clit and as she had a few more orgasms I finally had another deep inside of her. I stood over her like a bull fully imbedded and then bending over her and grabbing her close to my chest I fell over on my side taking her thin brown body with me. I fell asleep kissing her neck, my cock still inside of her, my hands on her breasts and feeling her contentment along with mine. This was our second night falling asleep like this.

That next morning I awoke alone. Damn, no morning action. What I do remember of that night was pure passion with words of love and devotion. The sex was wonderful. The best I had in a long time but then I had not had any sex in a long time. Then I thought it was the best I had ever. Now that I think about it I have not had sex since a week before my brother was killed.


I got the news of the accident and I went to the hospital. Then I stayed the two days until he died and helped with the funeral and then helped with moving.

And for some reason I did not do any dating. First I was upset at my brother dying and then, well, I had my sister in law and nieces with me and I sure as hell was not going to get into a fucking contest in my home with them living there. After all I have two ten year old girls here and I did not want to give them a bad example. After I thought about it, it just did not seem right to go out and date and come back with that “happy fuck” look while they were in such pain. Actually I did not think about it at all, I just did not do it.


I came down for breakfast and the girls and Mali were normal, until I came in. The girls must have come back that morning so we could all go to Mass together. I kissed each girl on the cheek but they were quiet. I tried to act like it was a normal morning and after a few minutes they went back to their conversation but not like usual. Something was different.

I got up to get a cup of coffee and Mali was standing at the sink. As I poured a cup she mouthed “they know” to me. “Shit!” I thought.

Now I went into happy wonderful uncle mode. They had to know that nothing had changed in the house and definitely not my love for them.


I told jokes, I gave them a tickle or two, I was holding them and kissing them and all of the things I did for all of their lives. We made arrangements to go see an early movie after Mass, one that every ten year old in the world wanted to see and that brought them out of their funk. It was a pretty happy and full day but I had to be careful not to buy their happiness, it had to flow from how they felt and not my wallet or my guilt.

Now warm cuddly uncle was their new best friend. For the first five years of their life they saw me three or more times a week. Every weekend I was there, and I was there at least once or twice during the week. They got to know me from their first day of life. I even held them the first day they came into the world.

Even when I married we saw them almost every weekend and during the week too. It is a twin thing, we hated to be separated.

I was involved in every family event and their daughters were my daughters. They started calling me “Uncle Dad” but I told them they should not say that but Jonathan overruled me and I was “Uncle Dad” from then on. That is the kind of man he was, he would want me involved so deeply in their lives.

Before I got married I would take the girls and Mali out to dinner if my brother was away. He would just call me up and say that he needed my help and I should pick Mali and the girls up for dinner. Then there were times I would just go over and take the twins to McDonalds because I wanted time with them. I even had twin car seats permanently in my car. They stayed there until I was transferred to a different city and finally I took the care seats out. That was very emotional for me.

When the twins needed to go to one lesson or another, like ballet, I took them. There was nothing I would not do for them and they had me wrapped around their little fingers, and my brother and Mali used to laugh at what they could get me to do just by playing the “sweet little girl pout” card. They were right of course.

Then I got transferred and now I was one hundred miles away but I still saw them every free weekend. When you think of it, one hundred miles is not very far. It is the distance from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara or San Diego. Those little girls would come and visit or we would visit them. It gave my brother and Mali time to be alone too. Now Jonathan is gone, but I am here to do what I can, but I will never just let them go, they are part of me and I could not live without them.

That night I took another shower and shaved, I would shave and shower morning and night from now on. No, Mali did not come to me that night or the next or even the night after that.

But a few times during the following weeks, as the girls were next door or outside Mali pulled me into the office or the bathroom, bent over the desk and told me to just fuck her fast. No loving, no kissing, just fuck her and cum inside of her. I dropped my pants and that is what I did. I rubbed the head up and down her wet slit and when she decided she wanted it she pushed back and in I went. She was wet so I knew she was excited about this illicit coupling. Once we got over that part I grabbed her hips slowly bottomed out and then got into some nice hard fucking. She looked back over her shoulder at me and said “Hard and fast. Fuck me like a whore.” And that is what I did. Granny panties at her feet, a housecoat up at her waist, no hair up, and no makeup, nothing but what I call “wife fucking” and I was in heaven. Try as I might it was still making love, I just cared for her.

I came in a few minutes with her then she turned around sucked me hard again and I put her ass on the desk or sink counter and fucked her again from the front, so I could kiss her and make love again. In ten minutes we were done and she pulled up her panties to prevent any cum running down her legs and walked out into the house and went back to fixing something to eat or what ever she was doing before she decided on some “wife sex.” I put my cock back into my pants and walked up to her and bent over and kissed her neck. I even put my hand into her house coat and pulled her naked nipple. She would move back into me, it was tender and loving, and the perfect end to illicit sex.

I never did figure that one out, and had no clue why she did it. I had no idea about the “fuck me like a whore” statement or why she said it. I did not understand her need for a fast coupling either when she was so wet to begin with. I did not understand the lack of makeup or the house coat, which she rarely wore around the house. What I did understand was the need to be close and intimate. It was like she went out of her way not to be dressed up before we made love those times.

She could have come into the bedroom for some slow loving, but she just did a fast fuck. There were even times when she would have a sun dress on and I would be in the den or someplace and the girls would be out in the back yard and she would come in and just lift her dress and I would pull down my pants and she would sit on my cock after moving the granny panties aside. There were times we did not actually cum, she just did it to turn me on. At other times she would cum and I didn’t. It just felt good to be close to her.

I asked her about the granny panties and she told me “They don’t leak,” with a smile.

But Mali kept up the pleasure, not pressure, pleasure. When we were alone she would dress as sexy as possible. There would be micro mini skirts with thigh high stocking, blouses that showed her small breasts and no panties at all. She would come and sit on me, taking my cock and letting it slowly glide into her sexy pussy. Or she would push me over as I sat on the couch and lower her pussy to my face, allowing me to feast on her. She would ride my cock or my face until we both enjoyed the feelings, cuming at every opportunity and giving me the same opportunity.

I came to see that Mali was the kind of woman that would love unconditionally, and now I was the object of all that love. She would do anything for me because she loved me without condition. When she said she was my woman she really meant it. I was the object of all of her desires. And like all women she could segregate all of that love so that each twin felt the same complete and unconditional love while not depriving any of us of anything.

She still did the housecoat thing without any makeup because she said when I told her it reminded me of “wife sex,” the comfortable loving between a husband and a wife. It was more for closeness and love rather than just sex, and when I told her that she kissed me.

Then there was “the talk.” Did I find her breasts large enough; all my girl friends had large breasts. “Yours are perfect” I told her. Did I find her dark hair and dark skin as desirable as blonds with fair skin? “You are perfect” I again told her.

“Did I find her as beautiful as the whore I fucked at Jonathan’s bachelor party?” she asked. That one came from left field.

“More beautiful, more responsive, more pleasurable, more everything than any woman in the world, even the girl from the party.” I told her. I did not even want to admit about the bachelor party; I kept the words nebulous.

“Why? We are all basically the same, why am I more beautiful and more of everything you want, even the whore from Jonathan’s bachelor party?” She asked.

She was not going to let it rest. “Because I love you, I am in love with you, and there is no woman in the world I love more than you. Your are the ‘most’ in your own right, you are my ‘most’ for the same reason, but also because I love you so much.” I told her.

Mali could sit on me and kiss me, facing me and with my cock nestled in her womanly body. At times she would just rock back and forth on me, letting me kiss everything I could reach with my lips. I can see her head back and her eyes closed, a gentle rocking motion, my lips on her nipples, her neck, her anything and everything. I can feel her pussy walls pulse over and over and then see that smile come to her face and she bent forward, moving my lips from whatever delicacy of her body that I was feasting on, only to have it be replaced by her now available lips and tongue.

During my first marriage I tried other things to keep us together, but the wife decided I was not right for her and after five years we ended it. I think she was jealous of my relationship with my brother and his family. I was never hot for other women, and I was never flirty with other women; hell I did not even dance with other women. I never made a move on Mali at any time, until she came into my bed after Jonathan died and then I could not get enough of her.

Now Mali was the only object of my desires. The twins were my family, my daughters. We could not get any closer if I was their birth father as their genes were my genes because they were from my twin.

Thinking back I remember that my Ex was happy as hell when we moved away from my brother but mad as hell when I kept visiting them. I wanted children and she told me to think of my nieces as my children because she was not going to get fat by having any.

Funny that Mali did not have that problem and was back to her fighting weight within a year or less. I guess now she has her wish as I do look at them as my children, but I never want to take Jonathan away from them, he is their real father.

I guess my Ex-wife’s black fuck buddy changed her mind about not having kids. An eight and a half pound black baby with a third blood type that did not match mine or the Ex made DNA unnecessary for divorce purposes.

Watching TV or doing anything that required sitting as a family, Mali now sat next to me unless the twins wanted to be on either side and that happened a lot. We would end up sitting with a twin between us and one at the other side of one of us. It was almost like they were trying us on for size and deciding their place in this new world. Then it would be two twins in the middle and then a twin on each side. They did not like to be too far from their twin and touching was preferable. They even tried sitting on our laps so that they could touch each other and us too. Eventually they decided on not deciding and took the position that they would sit where they wanted and how they wanted and we would just accept it and we did.

When we walked anywhere Mali and I would hold hands and the twins got into that too. Just like the couch they wanted to decide who was holding who and it was twins in the middle, or one in the middle, or one on each side of Mali and I. Eventually, like sitting on the couch or at the dinner table, they did not decide, they just did what they wanted.

We were becoming a very close family again. Jonathan would always be with us but now he was never between us, he was becoming a very fond memory, a loving memory, and we even began to talk about the fun things we all did together. Mali and the twins would even talk about things they did with Jonathan when I was not around.

At first they were a little concerned about how I would react but I would add in my own stories of my twin and I as children. Jonathan was loved by us all.

One thing we decided to always do was celebrate Jonathan’s birthday. We never did anything on the day of the accident or the day he died, but his birthday was special for us. We even had a cake for him and the next day we did it again for me, like Jonathan and I had done our entire life.

Mali and I ended up touching all the time too. We were always holding hands, not just fucking. And at times she would just sit on my lap, not sexually, but just for comfort.

Counseling continued and I am not sure how the girls felt about what Mali and I did, we did not discuss it when I was with them. They may have discussed it when it was just them but not with me present.

Mali did not immediately come to my bed after our first love making, but a few weeks later on a Friday she was with me and then on the next Saturday week, but then not again for two weeks. It was a slow start.

Nothing changed between us during non sleeping hours, except for some fast “wife” fucking. But I refused to do too much of that “fuck me like a whore” stuff, I wanted to make love to her, but make love quickly. So I paid attention to what she liked and did that, but I did it fast.

Yes, when we were role playing I could do the “fuck me like a whore,” thing and I did it for her, but usually I made love to her quickly. I seemed to be able to know when she wanted one or the other.

There were times when Mali came into my bedroom and she got what she wanted. Once she was wet I would get her used to me and then “fuck her like a whore.”

“Just use me. Don’t worry about my pleasure, only yours. I’m your whore, use me like it.” She would tell me.

Of course I would do exactly that because using her like a whore was what she wanted at the time and it would always bring her off like crazy, especially if I bit her nipple when I would do it. She would have to bite me or put a pillow over her face she would scream loudly as we came. Then she would suck me hard as I licked her clean and at times I would just spoon behind her. She would lift her leg and I would slide in home.

“Not to hard now, I am sore.” She might tell me. I would then just slowly rock into her, not deep or hard, because she wanted to feel me. It was at those times I felt I was totally in love with her as I kissed her neck and shoulders and behind her ear, which she loved and would move her head to give me more access.

One time I mentioned a little anal but she said she never did enjoy it, but she did it for Jonathan. She said she would deny me nothing and if I wanted it, she would do it. I told her that I would never do anything that she did not like and as far as I was concerned it would stay something that she only shared with Jonathan. She kissed me a cried a little. We held each other and did not have any sex that night, but that is not what held my memory, it was her crying at what I said.

We were warm and loving as any family, which is what we were. We were a real family, now that I think back on it. The girls held our hands when we walked anyplace. We discussed our day at the dinner table. Mali cooked and the girls helped and set the table. We decided never to eat in front of the TV, dinner was family time. I got a book of jokes for children and would tell one ever night.

I helped with homework and met their teachers. We had the same name and it confused everyone into thinking they were my children especially since Mali had my last name too. When they referred to me as the girl’s father I did not correct them and neither did the girls. When they called Mali my wife I did not correct them and neither did Mali. These corrections could take place at any time.

But I still had some questions for Mali about the time she cheated on my brother, although I did not phrase it like that. I simply asked Mali about her one time with someone other than my brother. Even thought he was dead I was still protective of him.

“Mali, did you ever crave that other man when you were with my brother?” I asked.

“Not once. Jonathan was my husband and my lover. The other man was a one time thing and once it was over it was over. I never had sex with him again because I married Jonathan after that, but even if I had not married Jonathan I would not have been with him again. I was in love with Jonathan I never desired anyone else. After Jonathan there is you, so that is all the men I have known and I never want one over the other.” She told me.

“Let me ask it this way. When my brother was with you, you know, making love, did you ever close your eyes and imagine the other man’s face there instead of Jonathan’s, or his size instead of Jonathan?”

Again Mali said “No. Yes he was bigger than your brother but some women have larger breasts than other women do. I don’t think your brother ever wanted me to have larger breasts and I did not crave a larger cock. That is not to say I don’t mind a larger one now though. [She smiled as she said this.] But that is not because of your size, it is because of you, not your cock. I long for you; your cock just came along as part of the deal. I you were smaller than Jonathan I would still want you. You don’t look at women with larger breasts, you want me.” She added.

Our lives went on and we became closer and closer. A few times Carley and Carrey, my nieces actually called me dad, dropping the uncle part; after all I looked just like him. I think that this gave them some additional comfort. They had taken to calling me dad in school activities and around their friends and calling Mali mother probably went a long way to creating the image of a mother and father for them.

Mali did tell me they discussed it in therapy, we were still going. I got into the sex part with the therapist and she wanted to talk about jealousy of my brother and all that. I put her right about that part. I never had any designs on Mali, she was my brother’s wife not mine and I sure as hell would not have done anything to change that. I never wanted her, never acted inappropriately around her, never made sexual jokes or innuendos around or to her. She was my brother’s wife and he was her husband. I would never interfere with that and never intended to. This relationship with Mali was just something that happened while we were living together.

And “No” I did not feel that I was filling in for Jonathan because I looked like him. I told the therapist about the first time and I made Mali say who I was by saying my name. It was complicated; there is no doubt about that.

Mali and I spent more and more nights together. The girls did not seem to mind and did not even give us strange looks. They seemed to thrive on our common relationship as a family, a real family.

Soon another wall was breached, I asked her to marry me and she agreed. That next day we told the girls and I am not sure if they were happy for us or not. I think they wanted to see if anything was going to change. It didn’t. It was a small civil ceremony and no one was invited because it was so soon after Jonathan died. Then again it was pretty strange to marry my brother’s widow. But we had to do it anyway because we could not live like we were living with children in the house.

June 2018
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