Penetrating the Family

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One hell of a family Christmas in Coral Gables
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sr71plt
sr71plt
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Charles Harrington met his new, young wife, Julia, in the forecourt of their Arvida Parkway home in exclusive Coral Gables, south of Miami, where the family wintered and from whence Charles flew back and forth to his CEO job in New York City. The two often just passed each other by like this, although Charles had no complaints. On the nights he was able to spend in Coral Gables, Julia took very good care of him.

He was walking out to his Mercedes sedan just as Julia was driving into the forecourt in her BMW sports car. He was only carrying a briefcase—he had a closet full of clothes in their Sixth Avenue penthouse apartment in New York. She was loaded down with packages following a grueling day shopping the Coral Gables boutiques.

Charles lifted his eyebrows as she extricated herself from the BMW. She was a gorgeous woman, with legs that never stopped and accustomed to wearing butt-twitching miniskirts, so getting in and out of the sports car customarily entailed a display that had any man within a 100 yards snapping to attention so fast that he suffered from whiplash.

"Christmas presents," she said.

"Ah, yes, Christmas," Charles answered.

"You will be home for Christmas, won't you darling?"

"Most assuredly. We're shutting the office down on the 23rd, so I'll be back either the night before or by the afternoon of the 23rd."

Charles hadn't forgotten that Christmas was coming up. In fact, knowing that Christmas was upon them was the reason he was going back to New York. He didn't really have to go there for the office. He was going for another reason. Well, two, really. First, he was bringing back to Coral Gables his first wife, Sylvia, who lived out in the Hamptons on Long Island with her daughter. He and Julia had only been married since July of this year. Charles and Sylvia had children together. Charles had made sure that Sylvia was present every Christmas—for their boys.

The relationship of the long-divorced couple was quite complex—it was so complex, in fact, that he hadn't gotten around to telling Julia all the ins and outs of it. And Julia had never asked . . . which led to the other reason Charles was scooting back to New York until he couldn't avoid the situation anymore. He hadn't told Julia yet that his first wife was coming here for Christmas.

Sylvia was a conundrum even to him. They had gotten along very well as a couple, but Sylvia had some bad habits. She was addicted to booze and pills, which was why Charles had been given custody of their two boys—Charles junior, twenty-two, who went by the name Chaz and who had recently returned from Iraq and was still trying to "refind" himself in American culture and the workplace. This was why he was living at home in Coral Gables still. And then there was Chris, nineteen and a sophomore student at Rice, who was home for the Christmas break.

It wasn't the booze and pills that had broken Charles and Sylvia up, however. Sylvia was prone to disappearing for months at a time. The longest of these periods was before they had married, when Sylvia's parents sent her on a European tour for an entire year when Charles and she were getting "serious." They had been sweethearts from high school and into their second year of college, and suddenly she had just left him for an entire year. She had come back and they had married, but she had still left for periods of months on end during the first six years of their marriage. One of these disappearances was not long after Chris was born. She left for two months at that time, and this was the first time Charles discovered that when she left, she was going on a binge with another man. And each time she disappeared it was a different man.

Not more than eleven months after Chris was born, Sylvia bore a daughter, who they named Cindy. Sylvia was unable to tell Charles for sure that Cindy was his. Charles gave Cindy his name, but within the year he and Sylvia were divorced, he took the boys, and he let Sylvia keep Cindy. He had supported them both, and he and Sylvia were still on cordial terms—but Christmas was the only time they all got together.

They always all got together at Christmas, though. And when Charles came back from New York next, just before Christmas, he would be bringing Sylvia and eighteen-year-old Cindy with him.

Julia waved him good-bye in the driveway, blowing him kisses, oblivious to the impending visit of "the first wife."

As he drove off, he told himself that Julia would take it all in her stride. He'd never known a woman as even tempered and solicitous of his needs and wants. They had met at his golf club, the Coral Gables Biltmore Golf Course. Julia didn't play golf, but she played tennis and for two months she was swimming in a bikini in the club swimming pool nearly every time he and his golf buddies were cooling down by the pool with beers after eighteen holes of golf. Charles wasn't shy about telling Julia how gorgeous she looked in a bikini. And not long after they met, she went into one of the poolside cabanas with him and showed him how gorgeous she was when she wasn't wearing the bikini. And she opened her legs to him and crossed her heels at the small of his back and moaned how young and virile he was as he fucked her. He was over twenty years her senior.

They started retreating to the cabana regularly in the spring, and they were married in July. And just as Charles had told Julia very little about Sylvia—and, in particular, that she and her daughter always came for Christmas—he had told Sylvia nothing about Julia. Just that he'd married again. Sylvia didn't seem to care that he had. Charles was a bit worried though that Sylvia would take umbrage and get drunk and unleash a sharp tongue when she learned that Julia wasn't more than two years older than their oldest son.

As Julia saw the tail end of the Mercedes glide out onto Arvida Parkway Drive, she turned and looked up toward the second-story windows above her. She had sensed that the little departure scene had been under surveillance. Sure enough, she saw Charles's youngest son, Chris, home briefly from Rice, standing at his bedroom window. From what she could see of him, he appeared to be naked. And he had trained an intense gaze on her.

She sighed and entered the foyer. She placed her packages on and around a cherry Chippendale armless chair beside a Sheraton sofa table in the foyer and started to unbutton her miniskirt as she turned to the stairway. Her clothes littered the stairs and upper hall so that she was nude by the time she reached the door to Chris's bedroom.

As she had surmised, he was naked and in full erection. He had a great, athlete's body. Hard muscled and trimmer than his father's. He had the same generous-sized equipment that his father had. But when he laid Julia's back on the edge of his bed and she lifted her heels to his shoulders, Julia could tell that his thrust was stronger and his stamina much more resilient than the father's, even though he was all pumping and Charles's lovemaking was more refined and more solicitous to Julia's needs.

But the edge went to Chris because he was nineteen and hard bodied and his father was forty-seven.

* * * *

"I hope you don't have designs on my little brother. I think that that would kill Dad."

Julia lowered the paperback she was reading, studiously moved her sunglasses down on her nose, and gave her step-son, Chaz, a baleful look over the top rim of the glasses. She didn't answer immediately, because she had been, as he suspected, watching Chris move around the side of the swimming pool in the backyard of the Coral Gables house in his Speedo as he cleaned the pool. It had been making her tingle and feel even warmer than the job the sun had been doing as she lay on the chaise lounge by the pool in her bikini.

Chaz, the tattooed survivor—physically if not fully emotionally—of two back-to-back deployments to Iraq, was sitting at the patio table next to her. He also was wearing a Speedo, and his body, if anything, was harder and better developed than Chris's. His face was just as ruggedly handsome as Chris's too—and, for that matter, as Charles's. They were all beautiful men, and obviously closely related.

"Whatever would make you think that?" Julia gave Chaz a coy, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my mouth look.

"Come on, Julia, don't pretend with me. You've got Dad buffaloed, but not me. Chris is much too young for you—and while he's here he's is going to have fresher cunt to sniff around than yours."

Julia reached over to slap him, but he just grabbed her wrist and gave her a laugh and a hard stare.

"By the end of the week Cindy will be here and Chris will be busy with her."

"Cindy?"

"Oh, Dad didn't tell you? We have a sister too. Cindy. She lives on Long Island and Dad's bringing her back for Christmas. And what Dad doesn't even know is that while the two of you were honeymooning in the Bahamas in July, Cindy had her eighteenth birthday—and Chris helped her celebrate that by going up to New York and fucking her silly. They had been teasing each other for years."

"Cindy? You have a sister named Cindy?"

Chaz went silent. He was afraid he'd overstepped. Obviously his father hadn't told Julia about Cindy. So maybe he hadn't told her about his mother, Sylvia, either. Boy, he thought, the shit's gonna hit the fan when Dad gets home with a previous wife and a daughter. And Chaz was fully aware that he was living entirely on his dad's sufferance and expense here. Chaz wasn't anywhere near ready to strike out on his own after what he had experienced in Iraq. So, maybe he'd just better clam up and stay out of the middle of this inevitable fight.

"Chris is sleeping with his sister?" She hadn't whispered this.

Chaz looked up in panic. He wondered whether her voice had carried across the pool to Chris. He hoped to hell it hadn't. He needed to back pedal now and act the dope on everything. But when he looked into Julia's face, he didn't see what he expected to see. She wasn't angry—or even insulted. She was giving a little smile and even had laughed.

"That's rich," she said, and she lowered her sunglasses and picked her paperback book up again.

You cold bitch, is what Chaz thought, but what he said was, "Let's go inside and talk this over."

"I'm good here. I don't want to—"

"I said let's go inside."

Julia looked up in surprise. Chaz had used a drill sergeant voice. He was suddenly being "he who must be obeyed." And maybe a little crazy. The family had been warned that he would probably be right on the edge for several months after returning from the war.

"If we must," she said, and she slowly rose from the chaise lounge and gathered up the paraphernalia around her. She took her time, giving Chaz plenty of time to cool off, if that was going to be possible.

He sat there and fumed.

And Julia thought he looked really hot when he was forceful and put on a "mad."

He fucked her on the dining room table, her belly to the polished mahogany table top. He pumped her from behind, holding her wrists prisoner spread wide on the table top with such intensity, while muttering incomprehensibly, that Julia wondered if he was lost in reliving experiences in Iraq. And when she had melted in a flash of shooting stars and he had ejaculated deep inside her, he held her down, both of them panting, while he quickly recharged. Then he worked his cock inside her ass channel, as she writhed and moaned under him, and creamed her there as well.

"That's for laughing about my brother fucking my sister," Chaz said, when he released Julia. "You've got no ground to stand on in that vein. Now go on up and clean yourself up . . . and I don't want you to so much as look at Chris again."

Julia whimpered for him, as she thought he expected, and went up to her room. She didn't shower immediately, though. She sat on her bed, legs crossed, and rocked back and forth. All of the time she was smiling. Chris had been young and forceful and hard bodied. Charles was attentive and experienced. But Chaz was the best mixture of the two. Young and virile, but also experienced in fucking techniques and madly passionate.

Chaz had fucked her the first night he was home from Iraq—on the living room sofa, with Charles soundly asleep and snoring above their heads. And she'd been fucked by Chris in August before he left for Rice and then every day he'd been home for the Christmas break.

It had all been good for Julia. It had all fit in nicely with her wants and needs. So had the sexual attention Charles had given her. Her biggest problem was keeping them all from knowing about the others. It was harder when Charles wasn't home. Then both Chaz and Chris had every reason to believe they could visit her bed at night—and she had visions of them encountering each other there. On those nights, she had to make sure that they were fully satisfied sometime during the day or that they accepted that she would come to their beds separately at prearranged times.

She heard a noise at the door to the corridor and looked up.

"I've finished doing the pool. Now I'd like to do you." He already was pulling the Speedo down his legs, freeing a nice young cock in full erection.

Julia looked up and smiled at Chris. "Have you ever fucked in the shower?"

* * * *

Julia heard the doors of the Mercedes clunk shut down in the forecourt. She took one more look at herself in the mirror at her dressing table and teased a hair back in place. She wanted to look perfect for the return of her husband. She was aglow with news she hardly could wait to tell him.

As she came down the stairs, she saw that both Chaz and Chris had gathered in the foyer. Chris looked nervous and was standing beside the staircase, hugging himself with his arms tight across his chest, and moving back and forth on the balls of his feet. Chaz was lounging against the door frame into the living room, a coffee cup in his hand and a sardonic smile on his face.

Julia hadn't reached the bottom of the stairs when the door opened. The first figure that appeared was Charles. He was looking a little wary. Behind him was a young woman, the sight of whom, with the Harrington looks that were all so familiar to Julia, made Julia stop in her tracks on the stairs.

As the other, older woman entered the foyer, Charles said, with a distinctly nervous voice, "Julia, I want to introduce you to my daughter, Cindy. And this . . . this . . . this is Cindy's mother, Sylvia. Sylvia, my new wife, Julia."

Julia looked, agape, at the woman who had just walked in, and then turned and fled upstairs. Those who remained heard the slam of the master bedroom door overhead.

Sylvia, who had gone white as a sheet when she'd seen Julia, cried out "Christ almighty," and headed straight for the liquor cabinet she knew was in the library, which opened from the foyer on the opposite wall to the door into the living room.

Cindy kept on walking down the foyer hall toward the back of the house. She passed Chris, who turned and followed her, leaving only a sweating and apoplectic Charles and a grinning Chaz in the front foyer.

"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Chaz said. And then he took a swig of coffee from his mug, hiding the expression on his face from his father.

Charles gave him a hard stare and then started up the stairs to the bedroom level.

* * * *

Charles lay on the bed, surprised and confused, but exhausted and drained of semen. Julia had done the most remarkable thing when he'd entered the bedroom. As he tried to explain family relationships and that his former wife and his daughter always came for Christmas, Julia pushed him back on the back, knelt down between his spread legs, unzipped him and pulled out his cock, and sucked him hard. She'd pulled off her skirt and panties while she did that, and once she'd gotten him hard and groaning, entirely under her control, she'd lowered herself on his cock and rode him to an ejaculation.

"Just remember who is your wife now," she muttered, before she rose off him and went into the bathroom.

When she came out, Charles was still flat out on the bed and gently moaning.

Julia went to the window and looked down into the back garden. She could see across the pool and into the screened pavilion beyond. Chris was laying on top of Cindy on a sofa, and Julia could clearly see his hard, plump buttocks contract and expand as he fucked her.

She laughed.

"You think this is all funny?" Charles murmured from the bed.

"Some aspects of it, yes."

"We'll have to go downstairs and—"

"You stay up here—for at least an hour. I'll meet your former wife. And I'll be as pleasant to her as she'll let me. I'll treat her just like family. But it will all go a lot better if you're not there."

"If you must," Charles said with a weak voice and with nearly undisguised relief.

* * * *

"You," Sylvia said, her voice full of accusation, and her voice a little slurred from the number of Scotches she had knocked back while her former husband was being royally screwed upstairs.

"Is that the way to greet a loving daughter, Mother?" Julia said in a jovial tone. "You didn't tell me I had a sister as well as two brothers—or that my father was such a hunk."

"I gave you what you wanted—what you asked for—when you came to see me, waving that birth certificate you'd wheedled out of the adoption agency."

"Adoption agencies are quite socially conscious these days, Mother—especially European ones. They fall all over themselves to help biological families reunite."

"Stop calling me mother."

"It's true you weren't much of a mother. If you were devious enough not to tell me I had a sister and two brothers—and a hunk of a father . . . you know he fucks like a master, don't you?—then I'll bet you didn't tell Charles that he fathered a daughter before you two were married—a daughter you left in a European orphanage."

Sylvia hissed and raised her heavy-leaded scotch glass over her head. Julia sidestepped over to the nearby fireplace and grabbed a poker.

"Let's do be civilized, Mother. That is unless you want Daddy and my precious siblings to know everything."

Sylvia lowered the glass—and her shoulders went down too. She sank into a club chair.

"What is it you want?"

"What I've always wanted. I'm a Harrington. I want to be part of the family. To be recognized fully as a Harrington."

"That will never happen."

"It's already happened, Mother."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm very pleased—quite delighted, actually—for you to be the first to know. I'm pregnant. I not only am a secret Harrington, but I married a Harrington, and I'm carrying a Harrington."

"Oh God," Sylvia croaked.

"And you want to know the funniest part, Mother? I don't even know which of the Harrington men—Charles, Chaz, or Chris—is the father. And, frankly, I don't give a shit which one it is. I plan to have a whole baseball team of Harringtons; and they all can play pitcher and show me how good their balls are."

Sylvia's eyes rolled up into her head and she sank to the floor.

Julia walked over and looked down at her mother. She looked sort of sexy sprawled out like that and her skirt hiked up around her butt. With a smile, Julia wondered how Sylvia would be in bed.

sr71plt
sr71plt
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8 Comments
Jhbrown27Jhbrown27over 4 years ago
Good story

Off the track crazy, but an intriguing story. There is so much potential for more stories here! Anyway, interesting story.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago

I f you haven't thought about it, you should write a sequel

TJSkywindTJSkywindabout 9 years ago
Oh boy

That was quite the ending. Julia was pretty nasty, and not in a naughty way. 5*

catlady64catlady64almost 11 years ago
....

wow so didn't expect the twist at the end, very well done

thank you for sharing

GizmorGizmorover 12 years ago
Penetrating

Devious Mind working! This is going to be Great if it continues. Thanks.

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