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Milk of Desire, Book II, Chapter 1 : Getting back on track

Milk of Desire, Book II

By EFon


Chapter 1 : Getting back on track

I’ll be honest; I was weak and forgetful. I’ll intended to test the effect of my “seductive sperm theory” on Lisa’s gruff and hostile personality, which while successful was long forgotten in favor of spending the whole next week testing a different theory. Namely that my sexual stamina could keep up with two wanton young ladies that contently wanted every inch of my body inside them.

Sunday morning, after the sleepover, while mom went shopping, I was fucking Lisa or Katey, while Jen sexing up the other as if she’d been a lesbian the whole time. Come Monday, and every day after, I never took the bus. I was always riding in the backseat of Jen’s car, not because I was ostracized there anymore, but so that either Lisa or Katey could give me blowjobs on the ride to school. Then after school, if they didn’t have cheerleader practice or a game, instead of walking home with Jake, the three girls and I went to my house and had another orgy with the couple hours we had until Mom got home. Then I’d nap while Jen drove the girls home.

On Friday the girls had practice, and a away football game they would have to go to that night, so Jen wouldn’t be home until about ten tonight. I was actually glad for the break by then. Don’t get me wrong; I loved filling those sexy wenches pussies and mouths with my man-juice, and they loved it more than I did, but I was getting rub-burn in sensitive places.

I meet up with Jake to walked home that night like I always had before, but he just looked at me and asked bluntly, “Dude, what is going on?”

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“You’ve been hanging out with your bitch sister and her bitch friends!” he said disgustedly.

“Oh, well… It’s complicated,” I started to explain, but Jake actually stopped waking and put his hand to my chest.

“Okay, fess up,” Jake stared at me and folded his arms. Oh crap he knows something’s up. “What did you do? Is Jen blackmailing you?”

“What? Oh, uh, well…” my predicament all came back to me. I’d been all logical and scientific before, but once I had two sexy ladies servicing my every need, and my sister literally cleaning up after me, I’d forgotten about all that. I’d been raping them all week. The power my semen had on the female brain was staggeringly seductive, on them, and on me.

I’d been careless, and my realization must have showed on my face as confirmation to Jake, “That bitch! What’s she got? Photos of you naked or something?”

“Oh, um… yea,” I added weakly. This was bad; I’d already gotten noticed for acting unusual. Sure it was by my best friend, but could I trust him with this secret? What if he turned me in and I went to jail for rape? That’s crazy of course; no one would believe my crazy theory.

“Yup, I thought so. What are they making you do?” Jake demanded and we kept walking.

“Oh, just doing their homework… and stuff,” I lied.

“Like carrying their books and being their slave?,” I couldn’t think of a better lie so just nodded, “Man that sucks.” There was sucking involved, but in not the way he thought, and it made me smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, well… I, uh… Look, can we just not talk about it?” I needed to consider all the angles. Had I actually proved anything? Sure it seemed like it, but what did I really know? Not much other than I had two older girls and my sister, now almost at my beck and call.

“But don’t you want to get back at Jen?” Jake pestered.

I let out a sigh. I guess I was really going to have to play along. “How?”

“Well…” Jake thought, “If you got a picture of her in a compromising position, she might turn over the pictures of you in a trade and you’d be free.”

“Sure, but how?” I drolled.

“Damn it Russ! She’s your sister!” he complained, “You must know her.”

He was right, and suddenly I had an idea. “I got it!”

“Great, what’s the plan?” Jake asked eagerly.

“Er…” actually I got an idea more for my next test, but Jake would be involved, and maybe I could get him off my case I hoped.

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