Notes from the authors:

This is the twenty-ninth 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 previous chapters 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 gmail.com. 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 yahoo.com.

And remember, Nifty relies on donations to help them stay in operation. If you want to help, you can donate by going to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.


The Jennings Family

by “Brad Gillespie” and “Tucson Daddy”

Chapter 29

Belle

Belle stood, held out her hand, and said softly, “Tim, take me to bed. Make love to me.”

A beautiful statue come to life. The look on her face was one of longing, desire in her eyes.

“Take me to bed,” she repeated softly. “It's what you want. What I want.”

How many times, since meeting her, had he lain abed fantasizing about a moment like this. How many times had his mind done the same in some class. When the professor's voice became a dull buzzing, he drifted. Until the impatient snap of a voice, “Mr. Jennings!” brought him back to the moment.

“Why do I do this,” he asked Jacob. “Does she affect you that way too?”

He smiled and said, “I know it sounds more like superstition than common sense, but I believe, truly I do, that she has some power over us men. He put his hand on Tim's shoulder, “You're hooked now.”

“Make love to me!” she repeated.

More urgently now.

He reached out across the table, took her hand in his, and pulled her around the table until she was next to him.

Wordlessly, they had taken only two steps together toward the bed, when she stopped. So did he.

“Go,” she whispered, arms extended, wiggling her fingers toward the ultimate target.

Puzzled, he did as she had bidden, until he reached the bedside.

“Stop there,” she said. “And turn. Look at me.”

With nowhere to continue, he did.

For a moment, she did nothing. Standing there, arms hanging at her sides. He watched, mesmerized, as one hand moved behind her to find the zipper on the back of her dress. Slowly, almost languorously, she lowered it. The only sound in the room was the almost indiscernible “zzz” as it descended, until it reached its base and went no further.

Tim had been aroused to partial erection, but now his hardness increased, watching this beautiful woman begin the strip tease. Her face as mask of mystery, eyes heavy-lidded, she smiled.

Pausing, she moved her body, causing her breasts to sway. For one second, the gown held its position, clinging to her shoulders, as though unwilling to reveal the feminine charms it concealed.

Gradually, though, it surrendered to the inevitable grip of gravity, and slid downward.

His breath still caught in his lungs, he watched, caught in the slow uncovering of Belle's body, her charms.

The straps had fallen off her shoulders, revealing her breasts.

Downward, it fell faster with each passing second. The hem had reached the floor, cascading onto itself, a growing pile of silk.

Lower now, revealing her navel, then past her pubis, the tiny bikini panties covering barely anything.

Hands at her sides, she stood for a long moment, then stepped daintily forward, extricating her feet from her crumpled gown, and leaving it behind on the floor.

He was breathless as she approached. Nervous, shaking, he stood waiting.

One step.

Then another.

And she stood before him, in all her almost-naked glory. He could hardly breathe seeing this vision of beauty in the raw.

Their eyes met, and held. He leaned forward, anticipating their first kiss. But she put her finger onto his lips, and cautioned, “Not yet. Soon, though.”

His heart was pounding a wild tattoo. He seemed to hear blood rushing past his ears.

Thud, thud, thud…

Her fingers reached out to his shirt.

One button undone. A second, then a third… to the last one. Belle pushed the sleeves backward, forcing it to slip down behind him.

Her fingers went into her mouth, which wetted them. From there to his nipple, stiff with desire. Circling them, round and round, like stoking some fire within.

“Belle,” he begged.

One finger left its nipple to lay across his lips. “Shhh… Soon. I promise.”

He fought the urge, bottled up, to simply grab her, throw her onto the bed, and ravish her. It was almost as if Dan's voice was in his head. “No… No… No…”

He could not hold back the shaking from tension.

“Belle!” he pleaded, knowing it was useless.

“What is it, Timmy?” she asked, frowning. Then, her face brightened. “I know. I know what my Timmy wants.”

He smiled, expecting release.

Silly man!

“Mommy knows,” she chanted, lowering herself gradually onto her knees.

“Mommy knows,” she continued, her hands at his zipper, pulling it down.

“Mommy knows,” she sang, ignoring him, while unbuckling and releasing his belt. The button came away easily, so that his pants dropped. Only his briefs constrained the bulge beneath, yet only barely.

“Look, Timmy. Look what mommy found,” she said excitedly, looking up at his face, then back down to look at the bulge. “Buried treasure. Mmm.”

She ran her hand over his erection. Glancing upward, she saw the anguish in his eyes. His hunger was burning brightly.

“Let's see what we have in here,” she cooed. He felt her hands at his sides, pulling his briefs down, down, and down, until they were halfway removed from his thighs.

“It's a cock!” she exclaimed, still forcing his underwear to his feet. He stepped out of them automatically, leaving him naked.

“Cock! A cooooock!” she crooned, pulling out the word. “Mommy loves cock!”

Once again, Tim held his breath, awaiting the inevitable mouth that would close over his aching penis.

Holding his cock in one hand and his balls in the other, Belle looked up at him. He looked back at her. She looked crestfallen, pouting.

“Mommy's been a bad girl, hasn't she, Timmy?” She looked so pathetic and repentant. “Mommy deserves to be punished, doesn't she?”

Tim nodded without thinking and swallowed hard. He would administer it gently.

His consideration of what was to follow was halted when her lips closed around his exposed prick!

“Ungh!” he grunted.

Unbidden, his hands reached out to find her hair. She didn't stop him this time. Her mouth moved smoothly down, unstopped until it hit the back of her throat. He felt her chin against his balls, paused there, and she swallowed. Her throat constricted around his head.

His eyes popped open; he flinched from the sensation.

She held him there, then moved back up his shaft. Tongue lapped around his head. Then slowly back down, and she swallowed once, twice, thrice.

“Stop!” he cried out. “I don't want to come yet! Stop! Please,” he begged.

He was ready. Close to boiling. It was his turn.

She rose, placed her lips against his, and kissed him passionately.

Tongue to tongue, dancing, entwining.

His hands moved beneath her knees, another behind her back, he lifted. She rose, her arms around his neck.

“My turn,” he whispered, leering at her.

Her face contorted in mock shame, “I know. I've been bad, haven't I?”

“You'll pay.”

“I hope so,” she giggled, kicking her feet in joy and lust.

Lowering her onto the bed, he stood for a moment, looking down at her, nearly naked, on his bed. She'd played this scene before. Knew her parts well, and did them well this time.

He leaned over her, brought his lips to hers, and kissed her again. She responded wonderfully, just as he expected.

He rose from her then, to move backward between her open thighs.

“Let's get rid of these,” he said, his fingers slipping into the thongs of her panties, and pulling them down.

They came off easily, without resistance. He tossed them over his shoulder, and gazed down at his prize: her feminine center, her slit.

It was his turn to savor the moment, and he did. Briefly considering his options, he slid backward until he could lower himself upon her slit, and find her clitoris.

Before dropping down fully upon her, he said, “Tonight, I will own your sweet cunt.” Then, unhindered, his mouth enclosed her slit, and he began to feast upon her clit.

He was so very good!

“Ahhh,” She cried out involuntarily. “Uhhh… uhhh… uhhh…”

She struggled against his mouth, consuming her, driving her lust and his higher and higher.

This was where Belle found herself, struggling against what she most wanted and yet despised. For the ride to the top was her goal. Its consummation, though, meant completion, followed by emptiness.

Tim was truly punishing her, yet not quite.

She fought him, pushed at him, but was unable to dislodge him. Pushing, trying to dislodge his hungry, starving mouth. He ate at her cunt, pushing her to a new height. She was nearing the end. Yet it could only conclude one way.

“Tim, no more. Please. I'm gonna cum. Take me. Fuck me. Hard.”

Panting with desire, their eyes met for a moment. The message was passed. She spread her thighs wide, welcoming him. His rock-hard prick poised at her entrance, when she whispered, “Please, Tim,…” What she asked of him was between them alone.

Tim was all about honoring the desires of his partners. They made love, in Tim's mind. Fuck, between them, was a demand for hard sex.

It's not unheard of. Pain, along with sex. Lust ameliorates the effects of pain, enhancing it.

Whatever it took to increase Tim's or his partner's enjoyment, he'd do it. For Belle, he heard: punish me, hurt me.

So he did what she asked. Afterward, she cuddled into his arms, grateful for his enthusiastic love making.

“Thank you, Tim. You were so good to me. In a way, I got to experience what Jacob and…,” she began.

“Shhh,” he said pressing his fingers to her lips, silencing her. “No need to speak.”

So she snuggled against the warmth of his sweaty body, feeling safe and free. Tim had given her permission to seduce him. In return, he had satisfied her.

When Tim awoke, the dawn was just breaking. From his angle in the bed, he could tell that the day was starting out a little cloudy.

A night unlike others, regardless of the weather. The woman had come to him, given herself freely to him, and they had consummated their new relationship.

Belle lay beside him, breathing slowly in and out, still in the arms of Morpheus. Tim, though, was feeling the pressure of an overfilled bladder. As quietly as he could, he slid from beneath his sheets, and padded toward the door, grabbing the robe hanging on the door, and slid it over his shoulders.

So he exited his room, padding quickly toward the men's toilet. Entering it, no others tarried there. He quickly relieved himself, then took a shower.

Returning he entered quietly. Tiptoeing back to bed, he had just settled in, almost drifting, when he felt her stir.

At first she turned, resettling into a more comfortable position. For a moment she was quiet, unmoving. Then she turned again.

Tim stayed in one position. Perhaps she too would leave to relieve herself, then return. This is exactly what happened. Ten minutes later, she was back. Clean and ready to romp.

She made little effort to disguise her re-entry into bed.

“Tim? You awake?”

“I am.”

“Timmy?” she said in that slow teasing drawl.

He said nothing.

“Timmy,” she repeated, this time giving him a nudge. Perhaps even urgently.

“Um… What?”

“Timmy, I'm horny.”

“Uh huh,” he replied. After a long pause, he rolled over to look at her. “Horny?”

“Uh huh,” she said, a big grin on her face. “Horny.”

“How horny?”

“Real horny!”

“Real horny,” he repeated and opened his eyes.

“What's it worth to you?” he teased.

“Bull shit!” she declared with a giggle. “P and P! My pussy and your penis.” A short pause. “Unless you'd like my…” She let her words taper off.

“Oh, I don't know if I'm up to it. You might have to warm me up.”

Her hand slid beneath the blankets, found his raging cock, and squeezed. “Mmm. Daddy's got a big hard on. Daddy doesn't need any coaxing, does he?”

“Give me a taste of what you've got,” he said.

Belle moved from her squatting position, which clearly showed her wet slit, and moved toward him. Moving over his chest, she lowered her sopping slit onto his mouth.

His tongue found her clit, and began to lick, and lap at it.

She sighed with delight as what he was doing for her. Her nipples hardened, and eyes closed.

“Oh, you sweet bastard!” Belle cried out. “You sure know how to pussy fuck me. I'm not going to last long.”

Her soft purrs filled the room.

Suddenly she rose from his oral ministrations. “Can't stand this any more,” she declared. In a moment she had thrown off the blankets, and repositioned herself over his cock with one hand so that it pointed directly at her love tunnel.

“Stick that fucker into me,” she growled threateningly.

“Go,” he said.

She lowered her hips onto his cock, not fast, but not slow either.

“Ahhh,” she sighed, feeling it glide into her slippery tunnel. “Ahhh.”

It did feel good, he had to admit. Especially when he was equally horny. His sighs matched hers.

Her hands rested on his chest for balance, as she rose and fell. Looking up at her, he marveled once again at her beauty. Reaching up, he took one breast in each hand, molding them.

She opened her eyes, looking down at him. “You really like them, don't you?”

“There is nothing about you or your body I don't like.”

“You're a real tit man.”

“Tits, legs, pussy, ass, face.” He smiled back. “Don't make me choose one. I love them all,” he said enthusiastically.

Her expression changed, minutely, but in a significant way.

“You do?” she asked.

“Of course, all of you is lovely. I love…” then it came to him what she was asking. “I may love your body, but I do love you more.”

She smiled, but tears were forming in both eyes.

“I love you too.”

She stopped gyrating on his pole long enough to lean down and kiss him firmly and lovingly.

When the kiss ended, he held her to him, rolled her over, and slid between her legs. His cock slipped neatly into her wet cunt. She wrapped her legs around him, and they began to make love.

It was slow, it was fast. It was hard, it was tender. When they had both come to climax, she twice to his once, they were out of breath. Neither wanted this moment to end.

“I don't want to leave,” she said, mumbling because her face was buried against his chest.

“I don't want you to leave either.”

Raising her head, she said, “Last night was amazing, but this morning… even more.”

“Last night was sex. This morning was love.”

He felt something splash against his chest. Looking up, he saw teardrops forming and falling. She watched him as her tears fell.

“Oh, Tim,” she whispered.

They remained thus, until her last tear had fallen. Then she smiled, and said, “I really do have to go. Don't I?”

It wasn't a question. It was a statement that this was over. Back to real life.

“I can't stop you. I couldn't. I love you both.”

“And I love you both too,” she repeated.

“A quick shower before you go?”

“Sure. A quick one,” she replied, sounding determined.

They quickly washed each other's bodies, turned off the water, and got out. Wrapping towels around themselves, they returned to Tim's room. He watched her dress, going backward through the same procedure: panties, dress, shoes.

As she did, so did Tim, pulling on shorts and t-shirt.

She pulled a small brush from her purse to comb out her hair.

“There,” she declared, returning the brush to her purse and snapping it closed. “Do I look OK?”

“Not OK. Perfect. You're perfect.”

A wan smile flickered over her lips. “Thank you.”

She came to him; he pulled her close. They clung together for a moment, then she stepped back, toward the door, turned, opened it, and without a word, stepped out.

She was gone.

For a moment, Tim sensed her spirit still in the room with him. Then the sudden emptiness of the room seemed to overfill it, smothering him. With a cry, he dashed to the door, flung it open. Then he too was gone.

Only silence and memories remained.