A Weekend at Home

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The nitty-gritty about my menfolk

I’d been in the Army for a couple of years when I got a sudden temporary assignment to a research site very near my hometown. Instead of driving straight out to the base, I stopped in at home to surprise everybody. At 1:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday, the house was empty–or so I thought.

I let myself in quietly, not really trying to be silent but not bumping into anything–accidentally quiet. I headed for the refrigerator for a Coke, but as I passed the hallway, I heard a sound–The Sound.

Everybody raved that if I joined the Army, I would turn into a slut, but that’s self-righteous nonsense. No doubt some female soldiers were loose, but I wasn’t, and none of my close friends were (I hoped).

That said, I must admit I lost my cherry in the Army. A good girl, I planned to save it for my husband, but he didn’t come along in time. Corporal Feldman did–but that’s another story.

My point is that from hearing Corporal Feldman working above me, heavy breathing as he looked down at me, I knew what a man sounded like in rut.

A man somewhere in the house was in rut.

Oh, no, this is too delicious to pass up! I hadn’t been trying to be quiet before, but suddenly I went into Stealth Mode. I sneaked down the hallway, my head ablaze with possibilities. Dad probably wasn’t home. Grandpa?

Poor old guy, I couldn’t blame him. Grandma had died several years earlier, and–how can I put this?–since discovering what Corporal Feldman could do to me, I don’t think I could go seven years without sex. And men were supposed to be even worse. Feldman told me he beat the meat nearly every day (when I wasn’t around).

The sounds, though, came from the other side of the hallway, my brother’s bedroom. Gregg was a senior in high school, a jock, a straight-A student, and since he turned 18, I’d been after him to join the Army when he graduated. Oh, how funny! Gregg is jacking off! I just had to take a peek.

The closer I got to the door, the more I heard words mixed in with the animal sounds. Ohmigod, he’s praying! And jerking off at the same time?

I give up. Boys are weird. So are men, for that matter. Corporal Feldman liked to drip Hershey syrup over my naked body and then lick it off, but that’s normal: everybody likes chocolate.

I pressed my ear against the door:

“…and Heavenly Father, forgive me, but I keep getting a hardon just thinking about him …” More grunts and groans.


“…I’ve told myself a million times not to think about him like that, but, heavenly father, I can’t help it!” More meaty sounds.

I was amazed. Gregg was gay?

“…when I get in his bedroom and the smell of him hits me, I get rock hard again…Grunt, groan…”

A thrill shot through me. A neighbor? Around here? Who on earth could it be?

“…Heavenly Father, you know how I love the smell of his jockstrap. Dear God, just knowing that hot, sweaty man has been in it–I have to grab it out of the hamper and sniff it!!” From the loud moan and the furious sounds of slapping meat, I figured Gregg was losing it.

He grabs underwear from some neighbor’s hamper? In spite of how wicked, I just had to look!

Ever so gently I turned the knob, and with an angel’s touch I pushed open the door. Classic view. My brother lay back on his bed, his feet over the side, touching the floor, giving me a front-row seat at my brother’s exhibition.

But something even more astonishing gave me the strangest sensation. Gregg was–I had to swallow and lick my lips–bigger than Corporal Feldman! And not just bigger, he was way bigger. A little weak in the knees, I braced myself on the door frame.

Forget about the damned prayers, look at that thing! Stunning! My hell, his fingers don’t reach around it! Breathing harder, I leaned against the wall. Fuck, that is thick!

Corporal Feldman’s big hog had me thinking of him every day, and no Green Beret could go through an obstacle course faster than I could make it across the fort to Feldman’s barracks if I got a call from him. But I gulped. I can reach all the way around his. What Gregg’s got in there is obscene!

I had a seat on the front row just in time for the climax of the performance. Gregg’s giant cock reached critical mass, his good right hand stroking furiously, and like the fireworks on July 4th, big gobs of the family seed shot into the air–Good pneumatics, too. Look at those heights!

I was amazed. My little brother had a concealed weapon: M224 60mm infantry mortar. Fired a 2½-inch shell. I couldn’t get my fingers around one of those shells, either–Damn, Gregg’s cock is a mortar shell!

Carried his own ammunition, too. Gregg’s ejaculation made a mess all over his belly, thighs, hand and wrist, and down over his hairy balls (also hefty, virile organs).

I silently eased the door shut and sneaked poker oyna back down the hall, breathing hard, almost dizzy with arousal. I didn’t dare slide down the banister–I was so wet I would’ve reached the bottom at 60mph.

I considered going back to my car to finger myself into a little more composure, but instead I went to the front door, opened it, then slammed it loudly. “Helloooo, anybody home? It’s me, Sandra!”

I heard a thump upstairs. Poor Gregg fell off the bed. Serves him right. All these years and he never let me know what he’s packing.

A minute or so later, he came bouncing down the stairs in a clean T-shirt and shorts, barefoot. “Sandra! What brings you here?”

We hugged. I sniffed. Yep. I recognize that smell. Corporal Feldman, testosterone oozing from every pore, just before he lights up the victory cigarette after fucking me into Parade Rest. I smiled. “Got an assignment to Camp Jenerai. Going out there to tinker with new counterespionage equipment. Thought I’d stop in for some home cooking and family gossip! But believe me, boy, nothing you can say will top what I just saw.

We went into the kitchen. He fetched a couple of Cokes from the refrigerator, and we sat at the breakfast bar. “So how do you like the Army after all this time?”

“I like it; I really do. I’m thinking of staying in.”


Then Evil Sandra chimed in. “How’s your love life, Gregg?”

He looked into the distance. “I’m in love.”

“Really? Is it anybody I know?”

Still with that dreamy look. “Yeah, you know him–HER! You know her!”

I giggled. “Freudian slip?”

It was terrific. He blushed. “Yeah–damn, what made me say that?”

“So I know him?”


“Okay, okay, so I know her. I’ve been away long enough that I don’t know anybody from high school anymore, so–one of the neighbor…girls?”

Gregg got nervous, fidgeting. He went to the sink to pour a glass of water. Hmmm. I must be too close for his comfort.

We talked for a while, then he left to run some errands. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Dad won’t be home until about 5:00. Grandpa is with his poker buddies for their Saturday game. He probably won’t get home until midnight.”

Home alone for a bit, I figured fate had put me there for a reason! I got out my surveillance equipment satchel.

Civilians watch action movies and science fiction shows and don’t realize the Army already has a lot of that outer-space equipment. People would be astonished at how tiny some of the Army’s surveillance stuff is.

I installed some of my tiny cameras in what I figured would be strategic spots. This will be fabulous!

Gregg came back a couple of hours later, and I wondered if he had rendezvoused with whoever “she” was. We talked some more–traditional catching up, stories of the Army, stories of Dad’s work, and a little TV.

Wicked Sandra, though, steered the conversation around to The Subject. “I sure hear some tales of lovemaking,” I said casually. “You wouldn’t believe what those Army women talk about.”

“Oh?” Gregg lowered his voice. “What do they talk about?”

“Oh, Gregg, some of them are really sluts! One told me her boyfriend had”–I paused modestly–“a penis so big, she could hardly walk when he’d finished with her, but–I giggled shyly–“she said she couldn’t get enough of him.” I smiled my best good-little-girl grin. “Isn’t that nasty?”

Gregg’s smile was grim. “Yeah. Nasty.”

And with my eyes wide open in innocent, girlish awe, “And Gregg, have you ever heard of a foreskin? Some men have big skin sleeves over the ends of their penises!” I knew Gregg was circumcised from when we were children (and before he’d “developed.”) It occurred to me, though, that my talk was “woman turn-on,” not “man-teasing,” but before I could switch to how Private Jane Phearson liked taking a .45 pistol up her cunt, Gregg got up again.

“I–gotta go to the bathroom.”

Wow. That horny that soon? I had all my remote monitor stuff set up in my old bedroom, so I hurried there and turned it on.

Gregg came into the bathroom and took off his clothes–Yes! That pussy-stretcher again! Ooh, what I could do with that.

Behave yourself, you craven slut, that’s your brother!

It’s not fair! The biggest dick I’ve ever seen escapes on a technicality!

Things got hot on the screen, though. Gregg ran his hands up and down his furry body. You go, Gregg! Work it, work it!

Then he started jerking off. Oh, yes! I zoomed in. Gregg stared down, so I swiveled the tiny camera down on its cable. Something on the floor. Gregg bent down to pick it up.

False alarm. Just Dad’s jockstrap–as the manager of a lumberyard, Dad always wore athletic supporters. He’ll toss it in the hamper.

But no! Gregg held the mesh pouch to his nose, breathing deeply. Oh, my hell! Then he licked the canlı poker oyna crotch where the two straps came together! Again and again! I almost fell out of my chair.

Suddenly I was so wet, my perch on the chair got a little slimy. I should’ve worn something more than silk panties. Gregg put his fist into the pouch of Dad’s jock and sucked it!

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Gregg sat on the toilet, sucking Dad’s cock in the form of his own fist in Dad’s jockstrap, beating his own big meat at full speed. For my part, I ground my ass into the chair, rubbing back and forth, wishing Gregg was doing something else with that big cock–make that doing someone else–me!

I saw his lips moving. I turned up the volume. “…and Heavenly Father … “–What? More prayers?–“…Forgive me for lusting after…”–He paused, gasping, maybe hitting his G-spot, or whatever boys have. Come on, come on, Who is it??–“…Heavenly Father, I’m lusting after my own father…”

I did fall off the chair. Combination of slick vinyl, pussy juice, and complete, total astonishment. Judas H. Priest! I scrambled back onto the chair, praying Gregg hadn’t heard the crash. Nope. Still jerking off.

Me, too. The Magic Finger joined him in his fantasy–I could see it: Gregg and Dad naked, doing it. Oh, this is just too good! I have to see this in real life!

I had a set of mini-devices from the US Army inventory called “unlockers,” and I had installed them on the bathroom and bedroom doors. The little remote-control pieces, when inserted into a keyhole and activated, stuck out dozens of tiny pins, sensing the variations in the keyhole’s pattern, then the whole device rotated, opening or closing the lock on the door, window, or whatever.

Gregg had locked himself in the bathroom, of course. I pressed the button to Unlock, then tiptoed out of my bedroom and down the hall. Just then I heard Dad’s car pull up the driveway.

Evil Sandra gave me an idea.

I ran down to the kitchen, grabbed a pen, and wrote a note:



I stuck it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Dad would go to the fridge looking for a beer. I raced back to my bedroom and closed the door.

Sure enough, Dad came in, went to the refrigerator, read the note, then walked up the stairs to the bathroom door. Watching my monitor, I saw the bathroom door open to a view of Gregg sucking on Dad’s underwear, working his own big cock like his life depended on it. His eyes were closed–didn’t hear Dad open the door.

Any second I expected a roar from Dad, and in fact I turned up the volume.

But nothing. Silence.

Ohmigod! Dad’s watching!

I was wet again. I tiptoed to my bedroom door, opened it a crack, and looked out. Dad wasn’t there! Not standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

I looked down at the monitor in my hand. Ohmigod! Dad had stepped into the bathroom, within range of the bathroom cameras, and he had his cock out!

Damn! I was wet again–I’ll have to burn these panties.

But suddenly my throat was dry, and I gulped. Never seen the like. Dad’s was even bigger than Gregg’s! Suddenly I was very, very envious of Mom, may she rest in peace.

Gregg had finally opened his eyes, and both men stared at each other! Gregg was as astonished as I was–our father caught him jerking off, but Dad had joined in!

Gregg hadn’t stopped. Must’ve figured he might as well go for it. I couldn’t believe it. Gregg! Good ol’ civilized Gregg was murmuring, “…want to suck on that big cock of yours and feel it deep in my ass…”

I clicked the monitor to the camera on Dad. Wow. Breathing hard. “…can’t fuck you, son, I’m your father!”

Gregg stopped his own jerkoff (not me, my magic finger was wet to the second knuckle), and he got up from the toilet, moved over to Dad, and kissed him. On the mouth!

I’d never seen anything so hot in my life! Gregg wallowed back and forth against Dad, rubbing against Dad’s cock–and he unbuckled Dad’s belt, unbuttoned him, and shucked down his pants along with his jockstrap.

I was hyperventilating. Dad made no resistance, even helping in the momentary hang-up as Gregg stretched the jockstrap over his big log. I couldn’t stand it. I shucked down my shorts and got out of those nasty, juice-soaked panties, then stripped off my T-shirt, anything to let my tits out. My nipples had grown hard, and the scratching against the cloth was driving me crazy.

I never would have believed what happened next.

Dad said something, so I put the monitor up to my ear–“…the horniest thing I ever saw, you sucking on my jockstrap…” Then silence. Damn, I can’t watch this and listen at the same time! I brought the hand-monitor down to look at the screen.

My hell! Once the kiss was broken, Gregg nuzzled his way down Dad’s body, internet casino and soon he sucked again, but the real thing! His jaws stretched around Dad’s bazooka–or tried to–and I went nuts!

If a tornado swept the house away, my eyes would still be glued to that screen. Gregg gave Dad a very good blowjob attempt. I sighed. Neither one of them was small enough to fit in a human mouth. But suddenly I wanted to lick all over that big cockhead, too.

It gave me chills in my pussy. That thing is too fucking big! I’ll never fit that thing in–

You’ll never fit that thing in?? What in hell are you thinking! That’s your damned father!”

Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. But at least if Gregg gets to suck him, so do I!

While I watched fascinated, Gregg did another trick! He backed off Dad’s cock, then sauntering around sexily, like a dance, he turned around to face away from Dad then bent over, backed up, and–Oh my god! Dad’s sinking that big thing up Gregg’s ass!

That did it! I tossed the monitor onto the bed, opened the door, and moved quickly down the hall to the bathroom. I grabbed the bathroom doorknob–Shit! Dad must’ve locked it behind himself!–I ran back to my bedroom, grabbed the monitor, clicked Unlock–then stared at the screen.

Dad was fucking Gregg and about to cum. Who could blame him for being so quick–they just had the horniest foreplay I’d ever seen. I had cummed three times just from watching it!

Dad called out Gregg’s name, but not fondly, not proud-of-his-boy. Dad grunted to Gregg in a voice so husky with lust, I could feel my pussy warming up for another orgasm.

Gregg moaned, “Ohh, yeah, Dad, fuck me–going crazy–wanted this–so long–“

About then Dad got his gun. I knew what to watch for: final big lunge, holding still, legs stiff, pumping the family juice up his boy. I had to get involved!

I left my room again, hurried to the bathroom, and slowly opened the door. I’m going to suck one of those cocks!

Trouble was, the only available cock was Gregg’s, and to suck him as he bent over, I would have to be in the toilet. Desperate to do something, I moved up behind Dad, pressed my naked body against his back, and worked my middle finger up his asshole.

Whoop! Dad straightened up like somebody had stuck a finger up his ass! (Didn’t pull out of Gregg, though–still ejaculating.) I had to close the deal quickly. “Mmmmm, you big stud!” I rubbed my tits into his back (and my nipples were so hard, they almost left scratches on his skin). I’m shorter than Dad, so I wallowed my crotch against his leg, humping against him like a horny dog.

And I worked another finger into his ass.

He tried to look back. “God, Sandra, is that you?” Dad was breathing hard, coming down from his climax. “I’m so fucking sorry–pant, pant–this just got out of control!”

“Oh, no, Daddy, you are in control.” I rubbed my slimy pussy against his leg, and he had to feel the wetness. “And you can’t give treats to Gregg without giving me some, too.”

About then Dad’s mega-dong slopped back out of Gregg’s ass–Damn, look at that thing! Like a 3-inch network cable! I reached around and gripped it (or tried to). Slimy with cum, it slipped out of my hand. I groped around for it, holding it again, sliding my hand up and down it in wonder.

Damn, my father’s cock! Fabulous!

That big organ was the horniest thing I’d ever touched! The greasy white sperm slathering between my fingers was such an erotic sensation–I couldn’t believe it–I cummed again!

In the meantime, Gregg had edged past me–I didn’t notice; stroking Dad’s cock was all I could hold in my head–and Evil Sandra found out how Evil Gregg worked.

Just like Dad shot back to reality when my finger went up his butt-hole, my head jerked up when Gregg’s hands gripped my shoulders and something big, blunt, and hard pressed against my asshole. “Gregg! No! Not there!”

Too late. With a big push, his cockhead popped inside, and Ohmigod! My ass-cherry! To my brother!! It hurt like hell, and I almost screamed, but the whole situation was so incredibly horny, I just let out a moan.

Dad turned around and saw his only daughter slumped over, her mouth open, skewered on the ramrod of his heir. Fuck-drunk, I couldn’t manage much of a greeting. “Hi–Da–feels–so–“

Dad never ceased to amaze me. He turned to the washbasin, pushed his big dong down under the faucet, and with warm water cleaned the remainder of Gregg off it. I gaped. Like he was jacking off in the basin. Cleanup finished, he turned and waddled up to me, squatting down, his huge prick under my unused pussy, and he came up and INTO me! “No, Dad, no! Not both of you at the saAAAAAH!”

Corporal Feldman always stretched me out pleasantly. Dad’s cockhead turned my pussy into a sewer pipe, and I screamed. As Dad straightened up, he lifted me off my feet–hanging me in the air from a meat-hook made of a six-pound length of hard fatherly muscle. I almost passed out.

Suddenly disconnected, Gregg grabbed the utility stool, stepped onto it, and sank back in. I screamed again.

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