Abigail and Mrs. Cross Ch. 01

Abigail was self-consciously free of these prejudices. If she were not aware that she was putting aside these beliefs, she would have allowed herself to show more curiosity about my parents and their Jewish backgrounds. She on occasion slipped, wondering as we kissed where my light brown hair and light eyes came from and why my nose was straight like hers.

I tried to convince her that the secret was in my cock, that Christians are so jealous of Jews because ancient Jews had bigger cocks and could fuck better. "We've passed along the size and the secrets of love-making through the ages. That's why Jewish women try to keep Jewish men to themselves." She didn't buy it. Her mother did after she got it a few times, I'm pretty sure.

Abigail and I got along sexually once I accepted her terms. I could undress her, which I did almost every day, so long as her panties remained on. When she trusted that my cock would not by accident or force or sleight of hand enter her cunt, we settled into a highly satisfying regimen of mutual oral stimulation, 69 in other words, for sexual release. I made her come and she swallowed mine.

We fell in love. Hard. Abby began to speak openly of leaving school to marry me and have a child. I assumed the child would have been her way of ensuring her parents could not force us apart. I was at first less forthcoming, I admit, because my plans were already formed and didn't include either subjecting a wife to abject poverty or living off her money when I should be starving and struggling to succeed. Abigail talked to a cousin who talked to her parents who talked to Abby's parents who spoke to Abby who, in essence, told them to stuff it. That is why Mrs. Cross came to my door and why she took my cock and my sperm in her pussy.

I knew Mr. and Mrs. Cross by then. She played too much tennis and he sailed his big boats and they both drank too much. Abby told me her mother had slept with the former tennis pro, that she had gone on the pill after one of her friends, also sleeping with the pro, had required an abortion when the condom failed. Abby thought her parents didn't have sex at all anymore, but most children believe that - or want to. I could see however that Mr. Cross had less interest in his wife's voluptuous and fit body than in the Tanqueray which most nights left him sprawled on a leather couch in his office.

It was when Mrs. Cross first sucked my cock, when she measured it with her eyes and hand and I could see a glimpse of satisfaction and anticipation and excitement in her motions, that I truly knew she was more than willing to trade her body for her daughter. I was provided her a service, just as the tennis pro had, this one being of a more personal nature than most but still a service after all. She no doubt felt she got a very good deal because I gave up her daughter and provided the service while she paid me nothing.

I realized the social nature of our sexual contract almost immediately but as the full meaning sank in over the next weeks I decided to extract additional payment. Or being a Jew, I might say I wanted my pound of flesh.

I was pumping her pussy for the second time that afternoon and she was verbally and physically urging me on. A steady stream of "give it to me, yes that's it, pound me, fuck me" issued from her mouth except for those moments when I pulled my cock from her lower opening and shut the speaking one temporarily. "This," I thought for the hundredth time, "is one fucking hot WASP bitch."

"I can't wait to fuck Abby," I said after I ejaculated in her cunt. As I continued in that vein, Mrs. Cross - who was then pinned under me, my cock though limp still wedged in her vagina - began to insist that I couldn't, that I'd made a bargain and couldn't. No, I explained, the bargain was that I wouldn't take her away, which meant I wouldn't leave with her or marry her or get her pregnant so she'd have to marry me. I hadn't agreed not to fuck her soft, yielding pussy with my stiff Hebraic cock.

Mrs. Cross insisted. If she had become truly agitated, if she'd tried to bite off my nose or tear off my testicles, I might have relented but she retained her upper class detachment, only increasing redness in her face and across the top of her tits betraying her excitement.

"I'll trade your ass for Abigail's virginity."

"What?"

"Your ass for not fucking Abigail." She didn't understand - what sheltered lives these women lead - so I explained that I intended to grease both her asshole and my cock so to wedge my cock all the way up her ass until her butt could be fucked like a tight pussy. She was disgusted. I insisted. "I want to fuck you in the ass, Mrs. Cross, in exchange for preserving your daughter as a virgin."

She agreed, as I knew she would. A trip to the toilet, then a shower which included a gentle reaming of her ass with my fingers and a plastic dildo I kept around for laughs, and very soon she was on her knees on the edge of the bed, face down on the bed, holding her butt open with both hands with my cockhead inside her ass and her asking me to stop because it hurt. The first few times would hurt, I told her, then it would get better. She stopped short of evicting me from her back hole so I pressed on until my cock was one-half buried in her. It was tight, very tight indeed, so I fucked it very gently. After a few minutes, she loosened a little more and I pushed in farther, which caused her to complain again. I then fucked her for a short while and came. Day after tomorrow, I told her, I'm going up your ass again.

I did. I fucked her ass a little deeper, a little harder the second time. The third time, I got all the way in and she was more uncomfortable than in pain. The fourth time I fucked her pretty well, developing a real rhythm and feeling her surrender even more. The fifth time she got on top and fucked her own ass before I reamed her, still slowly but deeply, and I had a satisfying powerful orgasm all the way up her ass as she clenched me tight in her arms.

I had half my pound of flesh in the shape of Mrs. Cross' hot, fucked buns, which jiggled madly with every stroke and made wonderful noises as my hips slapped into them. The other half would be paid when I would tell Mrs. Cross that I'd fucked Abby after all, that I'd lied and fucked both her ass and her daughter's pussy, that I'd taken her daughter's precious virginity and stuffed her full of my Jewish come.

As the number of days we had together dwindled, Abby and I talked bluntly about the future. She now knew my plans and accepted that I could not bring her along. I don't mean to make light of these conversations. They were difficult and heart-felt and it was only because she loved me that she could understand the need to paint was more important to me than life itself, that I would gladly trade my life to be with her but I could not erase my need to paint and pursue my art without erasing my life completely.

She not only agreed to have sex but proposed that we do it. We were half-naked, me suckling on her light-colored nipple, her pressing her hands to my shoulders, when she suggested that we make love. I knew her cycle and knew that no condom was necessary so we removed her panties and my underwear and socks and set about sex with the purpose of consummation. We performed most of the familiar rituals of stroking and endearment but when my cock was stiff and her pussy was dripping I moved between her thighs and put myself in her.

It didn't hurt as much as she feared it would, any hymen already having been torn by years of athletics, riding horses and our sexual playing, but it was still a moment ripe with shock and some fear. I pushed myself almost all the way in and as Abby relaxed pushed farther until our pubic bones pressed together and we felt joined.

Abigail's pussy felt a lot like her mother's. Her thighs were softer and smoother and firmer and her legs were longer and wrapped around me more easily. Her tits being smaller and firm with youth didn't bounce as much. Her chest heaved and muscles tensed much like her mother's.

Our first fuck lasted a long time, probably too long for Abby, who had become overwhelmed by the myriad sensations after twenty or so minutes. I'd blasted two loads into Mrs. Cross that afternoon, one in her pussy and one in her ass, and could have fucked for hours but instead forced myself into a rhythm that generated such intense sensation that I couldn't hold out.

Abby was ecstatically well-fucked and satisfied. She lay under me, stretching her arms and legs, talking to me in whispers about how good I felt, how wonderful I was - meaning as a lover - and when she wondered if she pleased me, I told her in the most uncertain terms that she was a natural. We fucked again that night and every night until her period came. After her period, we fucked again every night until that last fuck and then she was gone before the fertile period of her cycle.

My plan was to leave one week after Abby left. Mrs. Cross had seen me preparing when she came by for the fucking we had agreed to continue until I left. I'd said, "You enjoy it. Why not get some cock while you can?"

On the day before I was to sail to France, I put all my anger and rage into fucking that bitch. I wore her out and she loved it. She grunted yes, yes, yes as I pounded her pussy until I lost sensation, then she'd suck and fondle my cock until it was responsive again, then she'd fuck me harder, lifting her whole body off the bed. I came in her pussy. I came in her mouth and rubbed it all over her face and tits. I fucked her ass, which had become like a second cunt, looser but tighter, and came in it.

She got dressed. I bent her over, pulled down her panties and fucked her again, one last time I said, she moaning yes. I flipped her over, her dress hiked over her waist, and fucked her leaning back against the sofa as she pushed her pussy at me in sheer lust. Then I flipped her over, ready to come and pounded my come into her, slamming my cock in as hard as I could and saying, "Your pussy is almost as good as your daughter's. Her pussy is tighter. Your daughter's a better fuck."

There was no scene. I pulled out. She lay over arm of the sofa for a minute. She stood up. I handed her panties to her and she put them on. "You're a born slut," I said. "Abby is a great fuck and she's a better woman than you'll ever be." Mrs. Cross left without saying a word. She wouldn't give me the satisfaction.

I'd won something from Mrs. Cross: either she'd taken my cock up her ass for nothing or she was a slut who only wanted an excuse to get buttfucked by a big cock. I'd had her and I had her. The bitch.

Abigail lay curled against me, her leg over mine, as much of her skin touching as much of my skin as possible.

"I thought you'd live in a garret. This is much nicer than I expected."

"That's because I make money."

"I know you're building a reputation."

I put my finger to her lips. Let's not talk business. "You want to go again?"

The first time had been a passionate fuck, clothes stripped - hers of course neatly folded over the back of a chair, mine in a pile on the floor - legs spread, no foreplay, condom on, moaning, expressions of lust, oh God, you feel so good, I've missed you so much, the giving of physical pleasure, the taking of sexual joy, release and rest. Now we took our time, kissing slowly, lips closed, small movements of mouth, fingers lightly exploring, chests rubbed with open palms, hollows of necks licked and nipped, breathing in ears, soulful pressing together and then and only then me in her and her arms around my back, pulling me down and her up, finding a rhythm of her moving underneath me, a long pause then me on my back and her on top, her breasts gliding around my nose, my mouth, into my eyes, my hands holding the strong smoothness of her hips, hair cascading, the sound of making love, moans, hand holding my head hard to her, shuddering, the feel of me hard, the feel of her firmly gripping my cock as it moves in and out, her soft skin, the sheets warming, the sensations overwhelming.

"Abby, I have to tell you something." Snuggled as you are in my arms, there is no good time to say this. "I had sex with your mother."

End of Part 1