Date: Sat, 12 Nov 2011 04:16:09 -0800
From: applesandpears@hushmail.com
Subject: A Little Revolution 15 - Katya

Ok readers, listen up! This is how it works. If you like this series, make
sure and give me plenty of feedback. It's the only thing that keeps me
motivated. Send me a note and let me know what you liked. Maybe you'll even
see a bit more of it;) Send any and all mail to me, Adrian, at:

applesandpears@hushmail.com

Editor's Note: Naturally, this is all fiction, don't take it seriously,
don't fuck your kids, etc., or anyone else`s. We don't live in this
world. If you have a hard time telling fantasy from reality, seek
professional help.

This chapter is dedicated to Fritz Krupp, industrialist's son, reluctant
billionaire, soft-hearted naturalist and lover of Italian boys. He killed
himself in his cold Prussian castle as his cold-hearted persecutors were at
the doors.

*     *     *

It had been a long drive from Göteburg to the heights of the Vercors
plateau, the sprawling and wild corner of France southeast of Lyon; a bit
over eighteen hours, done over two days. They had left at six the day
before, Pieter and Katya trading off the driving, taking the ferry from
Rødby, spending the night in Frankfurt.

Katya drove the big dark grey Volvo SUV, with its looming rack of extra
lights, up to the gate and punched in the code. The gate was over three
meters, a looming chunk of modern metal jutting out of the forest a
kilometer down a narrow dirt road through the forest floor of pine, oak,
and boxwood, the strong gin smell of juniper berries robust at the height
of summer.

It was a drive they made every summer, and every summer they came here to
the country house. Country house was an understatement for the massive old
pale stone chateau, a big yellow-beige box of a place with two slightly
disorderly rows of windows and a red tile roof that caught the last rays of
the evening sun. Set down on acres of fenced land, backing up to a national
park, the house was a fully modernized tribute to a former age, an old
place made new again. Katya had known it since she was a child and it had
been a wreck, a long-abandoned pile left to the elements. She'd helped
every summer to re-civilize that little corner of the world. Now, it was
beautiful.

At the ancient oak door Katya took the old key from her pocket and slid it
in with a practiced thump, swinging the big old slab aside as Pieter and
the kids started unloading the car. The two muscular 16-year-old boys,
Soren and Tunde, were unlatching the travel box attached to the wagon's
roof, while her husband opened up the back gate and started pulling out
suitcases with the help of her thirteen-year-old, Saartje. They were all
tired from the long drive, but Pieter and Katya had raised responsible
children who knew that putting off a job didn't make it any easier.

Katya swung open the large heavy door, sliding the worn brick that was used
as a doorstop into place. The entry was quiet and cool, lit only by a few
LED lamps along one wall that pointed up towards the beautiful old carved
wood ceiling sixteen feet overhead. The house was tasteful but functional;
no fussy furniture or show piece decoration, just simple and practical
pieces of wood, stone and metal. She pulled her little rolling case behind
her with a clatter over the pale terra cotta paving stones, heading back
the long central hallway towards the light and sound of the kitchen.

Her mother Evelyn was there, in her favorite room, cooking a late dinner in
a simple black t-shirt, a pair of slim designer jeans, and three inch
heels. Evelyn, 63 that summer, was a woman with the figure of a young
mother, slim and well shaped with full hips, her tan skin wrinkled by years
of summers, but with warm blue eyes and a long shock of blond hair, greying
elegantly. She was standing at the kitchen island, feeding a piece of dough
into the mouth of her grandson Henri, the five-year-old tow-head who was
the younger son of Katya's little sister. Henri was spending the summer
with his grandparents as his mother was stuck in Paris running her
boutique. The little blond boy's face broke into delight at the sight of
his aunt. He had his grandmother's full mouth and he ran over to Katya and
gave her a feathery bijoux on both cheeks with his soft red lips, as she
bent down and ruffled the pretty boy's bowl of blond locks. Katya then
straightened up and gave her mother a warm double embrace as well.

"I'm making pot-au-feu, and canalés for dessert. Where are my beautiful
grandchildren?" Evelyn knew how much her older daughter adored the little
caramelized custards.

"They are unloading the wagon. It was a long drive."

"You know how I feel about that." Evelyn had been lobbying for years that
her daughter and son-in-law move closer to them, at least to Paris. But
Pieter's elderly mother was in Gothenburg, as well as his successful
medical practice. Besides, no matter how much he loved his in-laws and
their lifestyle, he would be miserable away from his winter snow and
springtime on the lakes. He was a Swede, through and through, and she'd
known that when she picked him.

Soren stomped into the kitchen carrying a heavy box, followed by his
brother Tunde. Evelyn gave each of her grandson's a kiss. First she kissed
Soren, the handsome, white-blond teenage athlete who was her oldest
grandson, planting a kiss on each rosy soft cheek, embracing him by his
broad shoulders. Then the same treatment for Tunde, the muscular African
boy who had been adopted into the family at age six, and who now stood
several inches above her, smiling shyly with pleasure as she planted her
kisses on his handsome face of dark, unsweetened brown.

"Hello grandma, so good to see you" Soren said in French. He'd been
practicing the language. With and American mother and a French father,
Katya had grown up with a mix of English and French, just as her children
were growing up with a mixture of English and Swedish, and English was the
one language everyone spoke, but the boy had been working on it. He wanted
to come spend a school year in France with his grandparents in their Paris
apartment, and had been lobbying for it.

Saartje flew in and hustled over to kiss her Grandmama hello. The girl, as
white blond and Scandanavian fair as her biological brother, soon to be
fourteen, had changed quite a bit in the six months since the winter
holidays. she had grown several inches and her body was in middle of that
transitional stage from the narrow hips and slim form of a girl into the
curves and contours of a young woman.

"You have breasts!" Evelyn exclaimed, cupping the girl playfully on the
side of her chest through her tank top.

"Grandmama! Seriously!"

"Don't me embarrassed, sweetie. It's beautiful that you are becoming a
woman!"

Katya was amused by her daughter's blushing. Saartje wasn't exactly a timid
girl, and her grandmother was the only person who could make her squirm a
little. She never let Saartje forget about how she used to change her
diapers.

"Where's papa?"

"He's in his study helping Mae-noi with her homework."

'Homework, it's summer!"

"She's taking a Thai correspondence course. She's become very interested in
learning about her homeland lately."

Pieter and Katya weren't the first in the family to take in an adopted
child. In addition to their four own children, two boys and two girls, her
parents had raised three adopted children in their forty-two years of
marriage, in addition to fostering many others from time to time. Their
house had always been a shelter for strays, her father often joked. Mae-noi
had been their last, a girl adopted as a toddler ten years before while her
father was on sabbatical in Thailand.

Katya left the kitchen as Soren was throwing Henri up into the air, making
the little cutie convulse in laughter, her mother crying after her that
dinner would be on the table in fifteen minutes and she should tell her
father not to be late. She always felt such a warmth to be home with her
parents. She loved her husband and their life together, but this would
always be her family home.

On the second floor landing she turned left and went to the end of the long
hall, past the entrance to her parents bedroom, to the door of her father's
study. She opened the door without knocking and entered.

Across the room, before a wall of books, her father laid stretched out on
his oxblood red leather chaise. Dr. Anton Phillippe Dupre Le Pen, Doctor of
Cultural Anthropology, one-time star pupil of Claude Lévi-Strauss, holder
of three honorary and four earned degrees, was wearing his tattered old
blue sweatshirt from Cal Berkeley that he had had since his graduate work
in the late 60s. He had the reading lamp on, and was holding a book that
was resting on his stomach.

"C̄hạn xāc ca phb rt̄h bạs̄?" He read aloud, slowly and
carefully pronouncing the sentence.

Mae-noi, nude, was straddling her adopted papa, who was naked from the
waist down. His large erection was planted firmly into the little girl's
stretched hairless pussy as she slowly flexed her hips back and forth,
sliding the lips of her cunt up and down the cock with little well
practiced micro movements.

"C̄hạn... xāc ca.. phb rot̄h bạs̄?" the girl repeated
hesitantly. She looked up as Katya stepped into the room.

"Auntie!" Mae-Noi practically worshipped her two aunties, Katya and her
sister Caroline, impossibly chic women that they were in her eyes. Katya
crossed the room and leaned down over the girl, giving her a kiss on each
soft round cheek. She leaned over and kissed her father on his lips.

"You are practicing Thai, Mae-noi?"

"Papa says we can go to Thailand this winter if I work hard and do all my
lessons. I want so much to go there! Do you know they have an elephant
sanctuary where you can stay right with the elephants and take baths with
them and ride them any time?"

"That sounds terribly exotic and lovely, my girl."

"I can show you the website after papa cums, auntie Katya. Are Soren and
Tunde and Saartje here? I can't wait to see them!"

Katya smiled at the girl. She was a real sweetie, full of enthusiasm. As
with all their children the Le Pen's were home schooling her, so she
especially loved when friends and cousins paid her a visit. Living with an
elderly couple alone could be a bit lonely, though Mae had many friends in
Paris and there were many visitors to the country house during the summer.

"Why don't you run down and see your cousins. I'll take care of papa."

"Thanks auntie! I've been practicing with the big dildo and I think that
Tunde can fuck me now. We're going to have so much fun this summer! Wait
until I show Saartje the new kitten!" The ten-year-old carefully pulled
herself off her old daddy's big uncut veiny cock, which came out of her
tight snatch with an audible slurp, and leaped effortlessly off his lap,
running for the door naked as she had been the day her parents had seen her
in the orphanage yard, this time though with a trickle of lube running down
the inside of her slim bronze thigh.

Katya wordlessly reached down and undid her practical denim shorts she had
been wearing, dropping them to the floor. She was wearing no panties, since
Pieter liked to finger her while he drove. She climbed on her knees onto
the chaise, straddling her daddy, and grabbing his dick, which hadn't
wilted the slightest. It was the cock she had known the longest, the one
which had been part of her life for as long as she had been conscious and
aware. She stroked his length a few times and then settled her weight down
on him, the dick sliding home into her ample child-bearing pussy with a wet
pop.

"You are taking Mae-noi to Thailand?"

"She's at an age where she should know where she came from. Before she
becomes a selfish teenager, she should know how her life could have
been. Plus, there's a conference in Sydney I want to attend, and it will
make a nice stop. How's my baby girl?"

"I'm fine daddy. Tired from the drive."

"I don't know how you stand to live so far north."

"You must be getting old. I remember living in Papua New Guinea, and
Brazil, and Lesotho, and Goa..."

"All warm places, dear. Maybe not that winter in Lesotho."

"What about Greenland?"

"Well, that was for work, and it was miserable."

"Pieter has work. And Gothenburg is not miserable. It was lovely when we
left. Your bones are just too old for a little damp."

"Pieter could work anywhere. He's a talented man."

"Well, we've been thinking of doing another tour with the Red Cross."

"Really? What prompted that?"

"Our kids are also old enough to see the world. And we have a bit of a
dilemma."

"Oh? What's that, dear?"

"Saartje is determined to get pregnant with Tunde's baby."

Katya's father let out a deep rumble of a laugh. He was a big man, over two
meters, though lean, and very good looking for a man of seventy, even as
his gallic good looks had settled into the wrinkles and folds of old age.

"It's not funny."

"No dear. It's delightful! I love the idea. If I recall, you wanted to do
the same thing when you were her age."

"Yes, but you talked me out of it."

"Well, we were living in a hut at the time, if I recall. It didn't seem the
best idea. But I'm not against it in theory." There was little, when it
came to sex, that her daddy was against in theory. "So, if the good Doctor
Pieter thinks she's physically ready, why not?"

"We do have a life in Sweden, you know. Neighbors and friends. If our
daughter of barely fourteen delivers a half African baby while living with
her African adopted brother, people will do the addition. We were thinking
we might let her do it, but we could take a year's sabbatical, go away, and
come back with an 'adopted baby'."

"You know what I think about lies, Katya."

"Lie when you have to, if I recall."

"You could always just tell the neighbors she fucked some black boy she
met. Lots of little white girls in Western industrialized cultures are
craving after black cock these days. A colleague of mine at the University
of Alabama just published a paper on teenage white evangelical girls in the
South having babies out of wedlock with black boys. It's become quite a
phenomenon. He postulates it has to do with the outlaw status of black men
in popular culture."

"We live in Sweden, papa, not the American South."

"Yes, well better yet, send her down here to spend the year with us. We'll
home school her."

"You would love that, wouldn't you, dirty old man? Have a preggers young
teen around to bounce on your wrinkly old cock whenever you want?" Katya
bounced up and down a few times, to empathize the point. Her daddy smiled
up at her with affection. "Besides, she's exactly one of those selfish
teens you were just talking about. She'd drive you crazy."

"Nonsense. My granddaughter is a delight."

Katya looked down at her father with deep affection. She had been
incredibly lucky in her parents, two sexual radicals building a free and
pleasurable new way of life. Growing up with the secret knowledge of how
different her family was had given her a feeling of specialness that had
never really faded. Her father was a visionary, a man intent on remaking
the world, a cause to which Katya was not only raised, but embraced with
her entire heart. Every time she came home, every time she climbed on to
her father's stiffness, felt inside her the very cock which had pumped life
into her mother, felt the heat of the loins from which she had sprung, she
was reminded of how important it was, their way of life. She was so often
baffled as to why society didn't embrace sexual liberation, full
stop. Sometimes, up in Sweden, where they might go for weeks without seeing
family or friends who shared their creed, it seemed like they were on their
own, the only little family on earth fucking their way into a better
world. But when she came home her batteries were recharged. As she thought
of this, as the warm feelings of home filled her, her papa grabbed her by
the waist and thrust her up and down several times, then lifted his hips
off the leather below him and came into her with a huff. She smiled at him
and he smiled at her, and they kissed, their tongues twining.

"My Katya. How I love having you here. You will stay until the end of the
holiday, right?"

"We promised the Valettes we would go visit them at the naturist resort
they go to in Croatia. But just for a week. We need some time to float in a
warm sea."

"And will the Valettes come to visit this summer?"

"On their way back home, yes."

"Good. Those beautiful children make me very stiff."

"I know, papa. I'm sure there will be many beautiful little ones for you
this summer."

"None more beautiful then my lovely Katya." Her daddy cupped Katya's cheek,
and she blushed, his semen running out of her pussy back down his softening
bone.

"You know what it means if we decide to let Saartje do this, of course? She
will have to come off the pill. Which means that she won't let any boys
fuck her but Tunde. No granddaughter pussy for you!"

"Pshaw. I have many granddaughters, dear, as you well know. But she is
still on the pill now, so I will have my way with her after dinner."

"You think you can get it up again, old man?"

"You know my instructions. The day I can't fuck my children and
grandchildren and great-grandchildren, leave me in the woods as a sacrifice
to the forest gods. Besides, I'm sure young Soren will give me a very nice
sucking if I ask him. If I recall he is a truly talented cocksucker."

"He takes after his grandfather."

"You two!" Evelyn called from the bottom of the stairs. "Stop playing with
your fuck parts and get down here to dinner now!"