Notes from the authors:

This is the second chapter of “The Jennings Family.” As we have stated in earlier chapters, the story contains bisexuality and sexual acts involving adults and under-age minors, both related and non-related, in accordance with the shared story preferences of the authors. If any of this is objectionable to you, you might like to leave and go to another story.

As was the case regarding the earlier stories that this team has produced and the first chapter of this story, the reader should realize that the usual disclaimer applies about how this is purely fictional and none of the actions, persons, and places in the story really exist. Nothing in this story should be read as anything but fictional.

Feedback, which is desired and appreciated, can be sent to “Brad Gillespie” at the address RBZ followed by the digits 3141 at Please put the story title in the subject line. But don't be surprised if the name on the responses is different. That e-mail account is under a different pseudonym than the one I used to write this story.

Feedback to “Tucson Daddy” can be sent to lannyr99 at

And remember, Nifty relies on donations to help them stay in operation. If you want to help, you can donate by going to

The Jennings Family

by “Brad Gillespie” and “Tucson Daddy”

Chapter 2


Tim and Aaron were cuddling in each other's arms. Away from supervising parents, they could do it whenever they wanted. Aaron's morning woody pressed enticingly against his own. Just as he was about to reach down to hold it, a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“Gordon, hall adviser,” came the reply.

“Just a minute,” Tim yelled, scrambling from the bed to get a robe. Not finding one, he settled for a towel, which was draped over the foot of the bed. He stepped to the door and cautiously opened it part way.

“Hi,” he said, looking at a student not much older than himself. “We didn't expect anybody so early.”

“It's almost 11:00,” came the reply, along with a big grin. “I hope you don't think you're gonna get off with sleeping this late when classes begin.”

“No! No! Gosh no!” mumbled Tim. “We arrived late last night and kinda stayed up late — or early — talking about the place. It's big!”

“Well, listen, I'm not here to take up any more of your day, just to let you know there's a dorm orientation meeting tomorrow. This will tell you all about it,” he said, handing Tim an 8½ by 11 sheet of paper with all the information on it. It was done up in small cartoon characters, fonts in various sizes with lots of exclamation points.

While Tim quickly scanned it, Gordon glanced inside the room and saw Aaron, a sheet down to his waist. The other bed was still unmade. He grinned to himself. “Only one bed? Looks like you haven't settled in yet.”

Tim looked over his shoulder to see what he was talking about. Blushing at the implication, then began to laugh with the explanation, “Oh! That? No, we just use the one! Don't really need a second one.”

Gordon winked and said, “At the university, most won't pay any mind to your orientation. Your secret, if you want to keep it that way, is safe with most of us.”

Tim's face relaxed at hearing this. “Thanks,” he said, reaching through the door to shake his hand. “I'm Tim, and that's Aaron. We're engineering majors.”

“Good to meet you both. See you tomorrow at the meeting?”

“Sure! Thanks.”

The door closed and Tim turned to lean his back against it. “That went well,” he sighed.

“Coming back to bed? It's an hour till lunch. I've still got a full quiver.”

With a shout, Tim ran back to the bed. When Aaron moved to top him, his thighs opened for easy access. Spitting into his hand, he applied the wetness to Aaron's hard cock and helped guide it to his love tunnel. It slipped in easily. Both sighed in satisfaction of one filling, the other being filled.


Connie and Dan had been up for several hours. Their first stop was the shower, where they accomplished more than the simple body cleaning. Always inspired by her lovely form, made even more so when naked, he immediately grew hard.

They made slow love in the shower.

After drying off, and still naked, Connie stood in the bathroom, her makeup kit open, applying her makeup using the mirror.

Behind her, in the mirror, she saw Dan, sitting on the bed admiring her body.

“What makes you so horny, my steed?” she asked. “Not that I'm complaining, mind you.”

Dan smiled at her question. He was watching her, as he usually did. He loved seeing her naked like this, unmindful of the show she was giving him.

She'd long ago gotten used to his eyes taking in every centimeter of her body. It was fit, and still firm despite the years. Not just for him, but for herself. Knowing she could attract both men and women was a deep thrill. Now she stood naked, doing what most women do at the beginning of the day.

“It's you, my sweet,” he said. “You're beautiful, you're sexy, and most of all because I love you so much.”

Connie turned to look at him. The words made her face light up. “Why thank you, my dear husband.”

“You know, when we met and I agreed to marry you, I had a fear that I might not be able to do my part. With a woman. Yet you made it work for us, for the three of us. I feel blessed.”

“Which brings up a small point,” she said, making one final stroke with the small brush before putting it away, and closing the kit.

“What's that?” he asked.

She walked over to him, sat on the bed beside him, and took one of his hands. “Now that Tim's gone, you're going to yearn for cock. I know. Bob certainly did.” With him, it ultimately didn't matter, since he died in a plane crash. “Tim asked me just yesterday if I'd allow you to have a boyfriend on the side. Of course, I told him, ‘never.’”

Dan gazed at her, wondering where this was going.

She sighed, “But I got to thinking about it, so I have to ask you, Dan. Are you OK without Tim?”

He bowed his head in thought and said, “I was thinking about that too. Maybe it's time for me to grow up, accept that the boy love of my life is no longer a boy, and how I should handle my sex life. I know you want me to say ‘yes,’ but I don't know. What if I came to you in six months and said, I need something extra? How would you react?”

“I'd say ‘yes,’” she replied easily, giving his hand a squeeze. “I love you and want you to enjoy your life.”

“Yes? You'd say, ‘yes?’” he replied, somewhat shocked. “Would it matter if it were another boy?”

“I don't think it matters, so long as he doesn't take you away from me. Some women wonder if their husband is gay because he doesn't want sex as often, or because they checked their computer and found that he'd watched a porn site.

“I have a husband who is bisexual, and my sole concern is that I don't lose you over a man!” She threw her arms around him and hugged his neck. “I love you too much for that.”

They clung to each other, only slowly loosening their hold. He looked at her face, the beautiful face he'd come to love. “Thank you, honey. I can promise I won't abuse your trust. We'll work something out.”

She kissed him on the lips and held him tightly. “Thank you for being honest with me about this. One thing though, Tim must never know.”

“Speaking of Tim, do you suppose our lovers have made it out of bed yet?”

“We could call,” said Connie with a fiendish smile.

“Not a chance,” rebutted Dan with a chuckle. “This is their life. Let's let them live it.”


Connie had finished dressing, prepared to go out.

“Honey, I have some contacts I'd like to check on, if you don't mind. It'll only take a couple of hours; then we can go sightseeing,” said Dan, looking at business cards he was holding in his hand.

“Sure,” she agreed. “I'd like to make a few visits to old friends too. We can meet back here at, say, 2:00?”

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, kissing her before heading out the door. “I'll catch a cab. You take the car? OK?”

”Go!” she said, waving him off.

The door had hardly closed before Connie was flipping through her old address book when she stopped. There, just above her finger, was the name “Susan Blair.” She felt a tingle of excitement course through her.

Susan Blair. She blushed, remembering the first time they'd made love, then shook her head. “No!” She reminded herself. “Those days are past.” Taking a deep sigh, she began to dial.

Just a friendly meeting after all these years. For a moment, she almost hung up. “Maybe I'll just get the answering machine,” were her thoughts.

“Blair and Associates. Susan Blair speaking.”

Connie froze. She couldn't speak.

“Susan Blair speaking. Can I help you?”

Connie's voice came out shakily when she said,“Hello, Susan.”


The ride seemed interminable. When she finally arrived at the parking lot, pulling into the visitors' slot, her heart was pounding.

Trying to act casual, she walked into the building and up to the reception station. “Hello, I'm Connie. Susan told me she'd tell you I was coming.”

“She did. Go right up, sixth floor,” the guard informed her, pointing to the elevator.

Connie stood nervously, waiting for the the damn elevator to open. She was about to press the button for the fourth time, when the doors slid open with a soft hiss. Stepping inside, she pressed button number six. As the elevator rose, she watched the numbers as they moved slowly to her destination.

One… two… three… four… And stopped. The doors opened. A young woman, mid-twenties, she guessed, got on. She smiled shyly at Connie, pressed a button, and the trip resumed.

Floors five… and six. She almost shouted for joy when the doors opened. Stepping out, she saw the placard on the wall opposite, with an arrow that directed her to the right.

Arriving at the room she was seeking, she stood for a moment to look at the frosted door with the words “Blair and Associates” emblazoned on it. Susan must be very proud to have achieved this. Opening it, she stepped into a silent room, devoid of workers. Desks stood empty, waiting for Monday.

Licking her dry lips, she looked around, then saw Susan, standing casually at an open door. As lovely as she had been on the sad day when they'd bid each other their sad good-byes. Connie smiled back and walked quickly toward her.

As they met, old feeling flooded back. She was sure that Susan felt the same. But this time was not those halcyon days of sensual abandon with each other. Back then, she had a husband who was fully knowledgeable of their relationship. Now her husband knew nothing of what had come before. This was not the time for an experimental re-union.

Instead of the warm, sensuous kiss she longed to deliver, she took Susan's hand in a handshake.

“So nice to see you once more, Susan.”

No “my love”; no “I've missed you so,” no hint of a restoration of those moments of abandon. Just a handshake.

Susan was saddened that this wasn't a renewal, a stirring of coals reduced to a glow beneath the ash of dreams and time. Simultaneously, she was relieved she'd not struggle to keep their new relationship as friends.

“And you too, dear Connie. It's been so long. I thought you might have forgotten…”

“Never,” Connie said, taking her into her arms and holding her there, against her pregnant belly. “I could never…”

She wasn't allowed the chance to complete her sentence of longing. For Susan all but jumped back.

“My gawd! You're preggers!” she said with a laugh. “Pregnant! Congratulations.” she stood back and looked at Connie's belly. Her hands caressed it, running over it in all directions. She stared at the deformation extending from her midsection. Connie giggled.

Seeing this, a child within her friend, brought memories that might have been: a marriage, children of her own. Those didn't happen.

A single tear rolled down Susan's cheek. Though she tried to surreptitiously wipe it away before her old lover had seen it. She was unsuccessful.

Connie looked at her old boss and lover, emotions washing over her face. She pulled Susan to her, enveloping her in her arms. “We need to talk,” she whispered. After standing together, holding each other, Connie took Susan's hand and led her to the nearby couch.

They sat, Susan leaning her head against Connie's shoulder. They were silent, each collecting her thoughts.

“Connie,” began Susan, just as Connie had spoken with a, “Susan…”

They both laughed, which had a tempering effect on the tension in the room. It had been rising between them since Connie walked though the door.

“You first,” said Connie.

“I'm glad you came,” Susan said, squeezing Connie's hand. “It's been hard since you left.”

Susan looked at her friend and smiled. “But how? Why? Downstairs, I was struck by how you've grown your company. Once a smallish office on the first floor. Now this: an entire sixth floor! It's amazing!”

“Just goes to show that money doesn't spell success. Yes, I worked hard to make my company what it is, but only because you left,” she said. “Without you to share my life with, my business became my partner, my sole function.”

Connie was lost for words. She said nothing, so Susan continued.

“After you were gone and didn't write to me, I was devastated. How could our love vanish like that?” Another tear rolled down her face.

“But I did write, several times!” exclaimed Connie, surprised that Susan did not get her letters.

“You did?” asked Susan. “Where did you address them?”

“Why the one you gave me,” exclaimed Connie. She recited the address.

“Oh, shit!” cried Susan. “How could I have given you my mother's address?”

“What? Didn't she pass them along to you?”

“Ha! My mother is all about protecting the status quo. Especially mine. She hates that I can't keep a boy friend. Constantly checking my mail when she can. No doubt she dropped your letters into the trash.”

Connie didn't need to know why, but asked in her limited Italian “Amore della donna?”

“Eccellente!” exclaimed Susan delighted that Connie could recall their Italian lessons. “Yes, the love of a woman. More precisely, you. She always suspected you were the impediment to my love life with a man. How right she was. I just couldn't get interested in a man. Not after our hot affair.”

“Poor baby,” crooned Connie, pinching Susan's cheeks. “Can't get a man!”

“I wouldn't need one, if you were here,” she said, lightly running her fingers over Connie's hand and arm.

Connie watched at the advance, but did nothing. They moved up Connie's arm, over her shoulder, to her neck, then behind. She felt the pressure pulling her toward Susan's face. At first she resisted, wanting to object. Instead she allowed her face to be pulled toward Susan's. Her lips, slightly parted, awaited hers. Once more, she tried to pull back but lacked the desire. Their lips met in a soft kiss.

Connie reached out to touch Susan's shoulder and hold on. The kiss intensified. Connie felt herself being drawn into what she had insisted would not happen. Susan was in charge now, no turning back.

Mouths open, tongue danced with tongue. When their mouths parted just for a second, Susan sobbed, “I love you so much!” That was the trigger. While mouths tasted each other, hands fumbled with clothes until both were naked, their bodies pressing together, lust rising, demanding acknowledgment.

It was so easy! All the old memories reminding them how to make love.

Mouths tasted; hands touched; fingers probed; legs parted; forbidden places reached.

“Yes! Oh, yes!” were the cries of erotic accommodation.

When Connie lay exhausted in Susan's arms, their sweaty bodies entwined against each other, they smiled and whispered old words again and again.

At that tender moment, Connie's phone rang. She looked at her wrist watch, and grimaced before answering it.