Generations -- transgender -- she-males

Generations By Gingerfred Man

AUTHOR'S NOTE -- There is no reasonable explanation, biological or otherwise, for the Freeloves' spectacularly unusual anatomy or their ability to procreate. So none is offered. I suggest you enjoy the story anyway.

Chapter One -- Meet the Freeloves

The alarm clock woke Lisa Freelove at 6:30 a.m., as it did every Monday through Friday.

She rubbed sleep from her eyes and anticipated yet another wonderful day. Every day of her life had been wonderful, so why should this be any different?

Lisa felt her stiff cock firmly against her belly. Morning wood. And her balls were full of creamy goodness. It was a great feeling. True anticipation of good things imminent.

The alarm had awakened her bedmate, Eddie, as well. Since it was a Thursday and both Lisa and Eddie were gainfully employed, neither wanted to waste time.

Eddie lay on his left side and drew Lisa, who was lying on her right side, toward him. They kissed deeply, swapping tongues and plentiful saliva. Somehow, during the night, Lisa had lost her pretty, pink nightie. Their naked bodies pressed together -- Lisa's big, perfect titties against Eddie's hairy chest -- Lisa's big, hot, stiff cock rubbing against Eddie's equally big, hot, stiff cock. Goo mixing with goo.

Lisa's bottom had been thoroughly lubricated by the activities of the previous evening, so only dilation was called for before they began the day properly. Eddie reached his right hand behind Lisa's wide hip, ran his palm across Lisa's exquisite, pink, butt cheek, found her hot, tight anus, and entered it with two loving fingers.

Lisa gasped with pleasure as Eddie massaged her prostate with his skilled digits. If he didn't stop that, she would...

Ooops.

First of the day, as smokers and drinkers say.

Lisa spurted out that day's first, creamy load all over Eddie's delighted cock and balls.

Eddie kissed Lisa harder and wetter as she was cumming and he mercilessly rubbed her prostate until the last aftershock had passed.

Then he withdrew his fingers and watched, happily, as Lisa turned onto her left side, offering Eddie's prick access to where his fingers had just been.

Eddie buried his stiffie into his favorite place and Lisa gasped with pleasure. He fucked her deliciously, adding to her pleasure by skinning her cockhead as he thrusted back and forth..

Twenty-five minutes later, Lisa, being the exceedingly "hot number" she had been all her life, spurted yet again. Lisa's anal contractions during her orgasm pushed Eddie off Cum Cliff and he filled her perfect bowels with his life-giving fluids.

They lay there for quite a while, panting, as Eddie kissed Lisa's long, elegant neck and fondled her 36D titties, until Lisa said, "I have to get my family moving, then get to work, Eddie. Call me."

As all Lisa's boyfriends did, Eddie thought of nothing but Lisa. He would call her, but knew he must wait his turn for another glorious night like the one he had just passed.

Lisa got out of bed and slid on a silky, pink robe over her cum-drenched body and cum-drooling bottom. She put on her pink, four-inch-stiletto bedroom slippers and strode to her mirror to survey the night's damage.

She looked like a beautiful, 36-year-old woman, young-looking for her age, who had just spent a night and morning being well-fucked. Good. That's who she was.

No need to worry about her appearance yet. She would get ready for the day once she had things moving.

Eddie was putting on his pants as Lisa blew him a kiss and left the room.

Lisa walked to the room of Amber, her 18-year-old daughter. Lisa didn't bang on the door to wake Amber. She knew Amber had been awake for some time -- probably since 6 a.m. It was 7:08. Lisa had to enforce the 7:15 rule.

Lisa threw the door open and was greeted with the sight of a man's hairy ass moving toward, then away from where Lisa was standing. The ass belonged to Mr. Bunsen. Amber's chemistry teacher. It was moving because Mr. Bunsen was fucking Amber on her bed. Amber was on her back, grunting with pleasure as Mr. Bunsen fucked her exquisite bottom. Amber's legs, resplendent with black, seamed fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings attached to a pretty, black garter belt, were wrapped around Mr. Bunsen's hips. Amber's cock had already spurted twice during the sweet copulation, so she didn't argue with Mom about the 7:15 rule.

"Amber," Lisa said, "It's 7:08. Finish Mr. Bunsen off and send him on his way. All men must be out of the house by 7:15."

Mom was right, of course. As rules went, the 7:15 rule was a good one. No one could get ready in the morning, Amber for school or Lisa for the Bank, if there were men around looking to donate their sperm to the Freelove women. Even Roxy should observe the rule. Of course she didn't follow many rules.

Mr. Bunsen had been fucking Amber every night for a week, so he didn't react with fear as he had the first time Amber's mother had thrown open the door and given him the bum's rush. Instead, he stepped up his efforts to cum and be gone.

Amber helped him out. She thrust three manicured, painted fingers into Mr. Bunsen's bottom and rubbed his prostate as he slid his cock through Amber's tunnel of love.

He lasted maybe 23 seconds before he was crying out (manfully, of course) and making a creamy deposit in the bank of love.

It was 7:12 when Amber kissed Mr. Bunsen, stood up, and handed him his pants. "Tomorrow night at 8 all right with you, Mr. Bunsen?" the sweet teen asked.

Bunsen thanked the gods of science for his good fortune. He was afraid Amber would tire of him long before this. Every night he fucked her was a night in paradise. After all, the Freeloves could choose from just about any man who suited their fancy.

Bunsen threw on his pants, then his shoes, grabbed his shirt and ran out the bedroom door, barely avoiding a collision with Eddie, who was similarly garbed.

They smiled a bit sheepishly at each other, then ran out the front door to their cars. There was a third, non-Freelove car there and it hadn't moved yet.

It belonged to Roxy's lover du jour -- that would be du soir, actually -- a mid-late-30s, rich, manly fellow named Earl.

Eddie and Bunsen thought to themselves that it paid to be Roxy's lover. She didn't follow Lisa's rules.

And why should she? Roxy was Lisa's mother. Amber's grandmother, though it was punishable by death to use that word in Roxy's presence.

Roxy was, quite simply the world's sexiest, 54-year-old babe. She looked sexy, with huge, firm boobs; a tight, plump ass; an hourglass figure that a teenager would envy; a truly beautiful, virtually unlined face; big, thick, lustrous, brunette, hair-model hair; and a stiff, seven-inch, uncircumcised cock with attendant large, low-hanging balls. She acted sexy, reeking sex as she cast a web for every man whose good fortune put him in Roxy's path. And she was sexy -- probably the best fuck on the planet. A really enthusiastic fuck that made every man think that he was either Roxy's first or her best ever.

Roxy and Earl had had a spectacular evening and the morning's waker-upper was starting the day off right for the beautiful shemale. The way Roxy's days had started pretty much every day since she was ...well, let's just say, younger.

Earl had Roxy on all fours giving her a "canine special" and Roxy was enjoying herself as she always did.

Earl was 20 years younger than Roxy, but she was at least his equal in stamina. And in production of both erections and sperm.

Almost all of Roxy's lovers were younger than she. Mostly in their mid-thirties. Sometimes younger. Though certainly all of legal age. That was the one house rule that every Freelove woman followed, even Roxy.

The "18-years-old" issue had been a sticky one for Amber, since she had just turned that lovely age four weeks earlier. So she had only been fucking actual grown men for a month. In the house. Openly. Just as her Mom and Grandmom had been doing as long as Amber could remember.

That doesn't mean Amber was a virgin until her 18th birthday. Far from it.

Lisa was not happy when, at Amber's 12th birthday party, Roxy gave Amber two dozen pairs of seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Eight each of black, brown and tan. Roxy also gave Amber a dozen pairs of four-inch-stiletto pumps and sandals. A half-dozen garter belts. Two dozen pairs of super-sexy panties.

Lisa called it "contributing to the potential delinquency" of a 12-year-old. Roxy called it "common sense."

"I gave you the same gift on your 12th birthday, Lisa," Roxy said. "And you turned out all right".

Lisa blushed at that. She had forgotten. But remembering things a bit, Lisa recalled that she had been thrilled at the grown-up lingerie. And she never wore anything but for the rest of her life.

Still, Lisa didn't want Amber turning into some little tart -- which Lisa defined as consorting with any 18+ men until you were 18, boys under 18 when you were over 18, or with married men at any time.

Amber, though, had solid values and a pretty good respect for rules. Thank goodness her mother and grandmother made rules that were sensible and could be followed by a girl with rampaging hormones.

Which had been rampaging in Amber long before her 12th birthday. When Roxy gave Amber that wonderful present, she had already grown titties the size of a man's fist. Mostly nipple and very sensitive. She already had "feelings" for men. And it was clear that men had feelings for her.

Amber also lived in an extremely sexually-charged household. When Amber was young, her Mom had the good sense to only bring her nightly male bedmates into the house after young Amber was asleep. Roxy had no such moral imperatives. She had men hanging all over her all day and night. And Amber got a pretty good education listening to the grunts, groans, gasps, pants, squeals and screams emanating from Roxy's bedroom.

Not that Amber needed much of an education. She was a Freelove. She was "innocently" sitting on men's laps long before her 12th birthday. Teachers. Principals. Clergymen. Relatives. She loved to rub her pretty bottom into men's crotches and feel them grow stiff and needy. In those days, Amber wore little-girl dresses, frilly white socks and Mary Janes -- never pants! No Freelove would ever wear pants!! Or flannel. Not even a flannel nightie. As Roxy always said, "If you're cold, ask a man to stick his cock into you. That'll warm you up."

The day after her 12th birthday, over Lisa's mild objections, which were poo-pooed by Roxy, Amber wore her big-girl clothes to school for the first time.

It almost caused a riot.

Amber wore black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; a black, satin garter belt; black fuck-me pumps with a four-inch heel; a clingy, pink top that showed off her budding boobies encased in a sexy, black bra; and a black, 13-inch mini that barely covered her stockings tops.

It was one of the more conservative outfits she had worn in the past six years.

Boys liked Amber. They liked her pre-stockings. They wanked themselves dry thinking about her post-stockings.

Amber liked boys. She liked men too, though she knew messing around with men while she was still jail bait was a bad idea.

Amber had lots of dates. Movie dates where she kissed the boys as they felt her up and made her cum into her pretty panties. Afternoon dates with latch-key boys who sneaked her into their houses and allowed her to learn the technique that helped her become a world-class fellatrix.

Roxy kept trying to get Lisa to allow Amber to bring her dates into the house. Lisa kept saying no. Amber came home more than once with her cummy panties hidden in her purse.

The showdown came when a nice, 17-year-old boy invited 12-year-old Amber to his senior prom.

Lisa shot that down immediately! No sixth-grade daughter of hers was going to a high-school senior prom! Final. End. Finito.

Until Roxy reminded Lisa that she had gone to her first senior prom when she was 12. And in 6th Grade.

Oh.

Lisa had forgotten that.

The memory of that wonderful night flooded back.

Lisa had lost her virginity that night.

[Sigh]

Could Lisa deny her daughter the joy Lisa had felt?

Amber went to the prom.

Had a great time.

And lost her virginity.

After that, Amber was allowed to bring her dates to the house. And take them to her room. With the door closed.

As long as they were younger than 18 -- Lisa checked thoroughly. And they had to be out of the house by 10. Strictly enforced.

So Amber had only had all-night bedwarmers for four weeks. Now she would have them for the rest of her life.

Eighteen-year-old Amber slid off her black stockings and tossed them into the growing pile of cum-stained nylon. She was going to wash them all out when she got home from school that afternoon -- a resolution she would only break if a man followed her home for some afternoon delight.

Oops, no. That wasn't possible that day. She had promised Mom that she would help her at the Bank after school. And she was good to her mother.

Amber's mother was good to Amber. She was out there making a healthy breakfast -- your most important meal. And she was getting out Amber's birth-control medicine.

Lisa had put Amber on birth control the day she first went to school in stockings and heels. A wise precaution.

Amber stripped her cummy sheets and put them in the laundry. She put fresh sheets on and for the millionth time in her life thought that the Freeloves probably washed more sheets than a mid-sized hotel.

Naked, she put on a filmy, black robe and black, mule, stiletto slippers (no Freelove would walk around without high heels) and joined her mother in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Honey," Lisa said to Amber. She kissed her daughter on the lips, then said, "Did you have a nice night with Mr. Bunsen?"

"Oh, yes, Mom. He's a very nice man. He's giving me an "A" in chemistry and I don't even have to do the experiments or take the test."

Lisa beamed with pride. That was a good use of one's sexuality, she thought. Amber had great values.

"You should date Mr. Bunsen, Mom. Really," Amber said. "I think Roxy would like him too. He's very sexy and very grateful."

Maybe I will, Lisa thought.

Lisa and Amber sized up each other's looks. They were both beautiful, mussed, cum-drained, well-fucked women. Amber always felt better when she had cleaned up, dressed and put on her face. Looking mussed didn't seem to bother Lisa.

Lisa dished out bacon, eggs, toast and a birth-control pill for Amber and the same for herself. They both ate eagerly. With all the calories fucking used up, they never worried about their weight.

They finished eating and Lisa dismissed Amber. "I'll tidy the dishes, Honey," she said. "You get ready for school."

Good idea.

Amber showered, patted dry and powdered. She had shaved her arms and pits the day before, so she moved on.

Amber sat naked on her vanity stool and checked herself out. She had great breasts. Freelove breasts. Like Mom and Roxy. Big, brown nipples and some real heft to each boob. No wonder men would trade a testicle to suck them.

Her face was beyond pretty, well in the realm of beautiful. Sort of a young Catherine De Neuve. Her skill with cosmetics made her beauty nearly lethal.

Amber's hair was naturally curly. She kept it long -- the way men like it.

When her hair and make-up were perfect, Amber put on a pair of brown, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Though she had been wearing such stockings every waking moment for the past six years, Amber reveled in their embrace. She hooked the beautiful nylon stocking tops to a six-clip garter belt, then stood to admire her work so far in the mirror.

Amber's cock, which was still breathing free air, was stiff and drippy. Where was a man when you needed one? Amber wasn't a wanker. She had plenty of people eager to participate in her orgasms.

She encased her precious penis in panties, then harnessed her wild titties in an over- challenged bra.

A bit of perfume in some strategic areas, hoop earrings and matching gold bracelet in place, Amber put on a cute, red, long-sleeved, miniskirted dress. It was February, after all.

Red pumps completed the ensemble. Amber looked at herself in the mirror and pronounced herself edible.

It was 8:25.

Amber grabbed her school bag and left her room. She put on her coat and gloves, and met her Mom at the front door.

Lisa looked great too in a black dress, stockings and pumps. Her Bank clothes.

Were Lisa's titties bigger that Amber's? Or Roxy's?

Maybe, but who cared?

Just then, Roxy's door open and Earl emerged. He walked up to Amber and Lisa, said, "Good morning, ladies" and went out the door to his car.

Roxy emerged from her room. She was "walking funny," befitting a woman who had been serially assfucked all night. But she was happy.

"Have a good day, Amber," Roxy said. "I'll just throw myself together and meet you at the Bank, Lisa."

Lisa and Amber knew that Roxy never "threw herself together."

It would be at least two hours -- maybe two and a half.

Roxy kept banker's hours.

Chapter Two -- Banking

As Lisa drove to work, `she thought about the day ahead at the Bank. Her assistant Heather had told her the previous afternoon that Lisa's schedule was full. And so was Roxy's. Not that it mattered much to Lisa's "adult delinquent" mother. Roxy was never very responsible and now that Amber was grown up, Roxy seemed to take that as license to sluff off even more.

It was a good thing Lisa had Amber helping after school since her 18th birthday. And of course, Lisa's assistants Heather, Madison and Emily helped out when they could, as well.

Lisa parked in the manager's reserved spot, then walked the short distance to the Bank. She felt the cold breeze under her short skirts and picked her high-heeled way carefully through the collected ice. The Freeloves and their assistants were the only women in town who wore anything but Eskimo attire in the winter. Men, of course, adored that about them.

Heather had opened the Bank that morning and she greeted Lisa as she entered the building. As she did every day, Lisa paused a moment and took a deep breath. She inhaled the smell of what had marked her and her family's business success and personal pleasure.

Sperm.

Lisa and her family were the founders, managers and operators of the hugely successful Freelove Sperm Bank.

And from the looks of the waiting room, today was going to be another "gusher."

There were six men in the waiting room, all regular donors, and they lit up when Lisa entered the room.

"Good morning, boys," Lisa said. She noted with an inner chuckle that the men were all hard and ready for their donations.

"Good morning, Nurse Lisa," they said in unison.

Lisa wasn't exactly a nurse, but she played one at the clinic.

The men were all ready to make their donations, but Lisa said, "Now you know I have to get my cup of coffee and put my uniform on. So you'll just have to wait a few minutes. Nurse Heather, are Nurse Madison and Nurse Emily seeing patients already?"

"Yes, Nurse Lisa," Heather said. "We're very busy today. When can we expect Nurse Roxy?"

"My best guess is 11 a.m. Nurse Heather. But we'll get through somehow. Nurse Amber will be coming in after school, around 3."

Lisa waved ta-ta at the men in the waiting room and went to her private office, an ample space with the interesting amenity of a queen-sized bed and its own full bath.

Heather had prepared Lisa's coffee just right. What a good kid she was, Lisa thought. A real head for figures and she managed the office well. So did Emily and Madison. At least one of them was at the desk at all times. The others were usually seeing patients, especially when the Bank was busy.

Lisa knew that the patients came to the clinic primarily to be seen by a Freelove, but it wasn't always possible.

Heather, Madison and Emily were all "part-time" girls. They were one year out of high school and lived as boys with their parents. At the Bank, they dressed as sexy nurses' assistants and helped patients give sperm donations. Which was just about every sissyboy's dream.

Lisa had had girls like them working at the Bank for as long as she could remember. About one-third of them ultimately decided to become big-titted, cock-and-balls-keeping shemales. Another third played at being a part-time girl for the rest of their lives -- an unsatisfactory solution as far as Lisa was concerned. The last third went back to being men -- usually under pressure from family and "friends." That was the least satisfactory of all.

Lisa slid out of her black dress and into her pink-with-white-trim, "naughty nurse" outfit, complete with generous exposure of cleavage and black stocking tops and a sexy little nurse's cap.

The "nurse's assistants" wore all-white nurse outfits. Without cleavage, of course. But with their stockings, heels, big hair, and excellent make-up on their pretty faces, each was a wet dream waiting to happen.

Lisa wiggled out of her office in her five-inch-stiletto fuck-me pumps and walked up to Donation Room One.

Lisa retrieved the "medical file" from the container on the door and read it.

Mark Hardwood. She sighed. Mark was babe-a-licious, but he was married. Lisa saw married men at the clinic, but not socially. There was no "fucking" at the clinic. Well, some, but not of patients. Lisa would have loved to have Mark in her bed, but scruples were scruples.

Mark had signed up and paid for a silver special number 4 "donation." And that was what he would get. A "digital sampling with aromatherapy," the catalog said. Digital in the "fingers" sense. Aroma as in, well...

She opened the door and saw Mark sitting on a medical examining table in his t-shirt. Just his tshirt. House rules for donations.

"Good morning, Mr. Hardwood," Lisa said. "It's wonderful to see you again. How have you been?"

Mark smiled dazzlingly. His cock was big and straight. What kind of wife would drive a man like that to seek the comfort of the Freelove Sperm Bank?

Thinking about things like that lowered Lisa's opinion of most women.

"I'm fine, Nurse Lisa," he said. "I was on my way to work and saw the clinic. Called and told the office I would be a little late. Of course, if you just expanded your hours a bit..."

Lisa's patients had been asking for that for years. They wanted the convenience of "donating" either on their way to work, on the way home, or on weekends.

Lisa wouldn't allow it, because she believed it would disrupt the Freeloves' family life.

Nine to five was it, you men. Deal with it.

As part of the silver special number 4, Lisa removed her panties and let Mark sniff them as she applied baby oil to her right hand. The panty-sniffing was a more popular option than you might think.

Mark could see Lisa's stiff cock, sticking up and lifting her skirts, but silver doesn't buy you touching it.

And rules were rules.

Lisa watched with amusement as Mark drew in Lisa's scent from her panties. She touched his burning cock with her oiled hand and said, "Oh, yes, Mr. Johnson is very excited today, isn't he? He's going to make a really big, hot, creamy sample for Nurse Lisa.

Lisa raised Mark's tshirt to expose his belly.

Mark whimpered as Lisa oiled his balls with her skilled fingers, then traced his shaft and concentrated on his cockhead.

Lisa knew Mark wanted to kiss her, but he hadn't paid for that perk. Maybe he'll lighten his wallet the next time, she thought.

Lisa talked dirty to Mark to get him to cum and allow her to relieve the next patient's suffering. "Oh, Mr. Hardwood, I think you're very excited. And you're an exciting man. A man a girl would want fucking her sweet pussy. Making her squeal and cum. Cum for me, Mr. Hardwood. Cum for Nurse Lisa."

And he did. In thick strands. All over his exposed belly. Which made Lisa figure that Mark's wife hadn't been giving him any. It was sad. But if the Mrs. Hardwoods of the world were sexually generous, there would be no Freelove Sperm Bank.

Lisa took her panties back from Mark, slid them back on, then collected some of the cum globs off Mark's stomach into a small sample vial.

Lisa kissed Mark on the lips (every patient got a goodbye kiss). She left the room, put the sample vial in a case next to the door and moved on to Room Two.

Just as she grabbed the chart for her next patient, Emily was emerging from Room Four. She smiled at Lisa through a nice, thick glob of cum on her face.

Lisa hoped that the Room Four patient had paid for a platinum special or above. The Bank didn't give away free services. Emily sensed Lisa's concern and showed her the chart. A platinum number six!

No wonder Emily had been in there that long. The platinum number six involved nipple adoration, lots of tongue kissing and a sample given by both the nurse and the patient. With both samples swallowed by their recipients.

Good for Emily!

She showed promise. And a lot of long, stockinged leg under that miniscule nurse's uniform.

Emily went to the ladies' room to clean up and retouch her make-up. Then back to the grindstone.

It was a tough business, but a necessary one.

Chapter Three -- School

Amber Freelove said goodbye to her Mom that morning just as Walter Denton, her best boyfriend at school showed up in his late-model Beamer.

Amber never rode a school bus in her life. When she was in elementary school she walked to school. In junior high and high school, a nice boy with a car would always go way out of his way to make sure she got to school on time and safely.

Amber remembered that even when she was 12, there were always plenty of high school boys who would steal cars if they had to so they could drive her.

Amber was such a sweet girl. And always so appreciative.

She always expressed her appreciation in the most delightful ways.

Walter Denton had been driving Miss Freelove to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays for several years. He was ten days older than Amber, which was great for that 18+ rule. There was that messy matter of needing to be 16 to obtain a driver's license. And the matter of having a car as well as a license.

Walter was undeterred. He drove Amber without a license for two years, then with a license for two years and a month. Less that silly ten-day lapse. Walter's father or mother never loaned him their cars. And Walter never owned a car. Yet, every Tuesday and Thursday morning he would show up in a different "borrowed" car from the "generous" people of their town. The cars were returned in good condition soon after school, so no harm done. Merely 208 potential counts of auto theft.

The threat of "5 to 10 upstate" for grand theft auto wasn`t nearly enough to deter a boy from "helping" Amber Freelove any way he could.

Because being with Amber for that 15 minute drive four times each week was almost the highlight of Walter's life. The real highlight was all the "thank you" sex she gave him after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Now that Amber was working at the Bank, however, they hadn't had any "after-school tickles."

But she knew how to make things right with a man.

"Walter, Honey" Amber said as she settled herself into the rich, leather, heated seats. "Would you like to spend Saturday night with me? I mean the whole night? In my bed?"

Walter had never had a car accident, but he nearly ran off the road. He recovered and said, "Yes, I would. Thank you, Amber. What time may I join you?"

"Oh you can `join' me all night if you want, Walter," Amber said. "I'll be all yours. Come by the house at eight. And eat your Wheaties that morning. You'll need your strength."

Walter drove to school on a cloud of love.

Amber felt good about being nice to a man who adored her. Plus, it was time to start dating men her own age again. Men who generated a big erection and a creamy load every half hour or so.

They arrived at school and Walter dropped Amber off. She kissed him and squeezed his cock affectionately. "I'll swallow your cream on the way to my Mom's Bank this afternoon, Walter. Have a good day."

Walter wondered why the other girls weren't like Amber. He took the car to a secluded spot away from nosy cops and their stolen car lists. Then he went to school.

Amber strode to her locker and put away her coat and purse. She knew every boy in school was looking at her. Dreaming about sticking their cocks into her.

By her own estimate, she had fulfilled more than half those dreams at one time or another.

Only 18+ now, though, boys.

Amber enjoyed her classes, especially since she had arranged her schedule so that she had all male teachers.

She always sat near the front of the classroom and made sure the teachers saw plenty of stockinged leg and an occasional glimpse of bare thigh and [gasp] panty.

Teasing the men had been her great pleasure for six years. Now she was pleasing them.

She had already been fucked by all five of her major subject teachers in the month since she was 18. Three of the teachers were married, so she didn't tell Mom about them. She met them at a little motel lovenest and submitted to their every request. While wishing their requests had been much more imaginative.

She hated sneaking around on Mom's rules, but it was difficult enough getting all male teachers, let alone single ones. And she certainly didn't want to study to get good grades.

Amber's only real girlfriends were Nora and Ramona. And they weren't exactly girls. They were sort of "Amber wannabes."

Since eighth grade, Nora and Ramona had actively transformed from boys to girls, with Amber as their role model.

Though Amber told them a few bijillion times that she never really transitioned. She was always who she was. From birth.

Nora and Ramona were very sweet girls, though, and quite pretty. Amber, Ramona and Nora were the only girls in the whole school, maybe the whole state, who took care with their makeup and always wore skirts or dresses, heels and real stockings.

It paid off.

Nora and Ramona were very popular with the boys at school. Not as popular as Amber. Amber had big boobs. And a well-known mother and grandmother. But Nora and Ramona had lots of handsome dates. And bottoms that were well-filled with cocks and sperm.

They were also, like Amber, allowed to use the girl's room at school.

This was important for transgender rights and liberty reasons, Amber supposed.

But the practical advantage was that, as the urgent need for sexual relief struck them, Amber, Nora and Ramona could go into the girls room, find a stall, and suck each other's cocks to a heaving, spurting, creamy conclusion.

The girls would have preferred the sexual company of boys during the school day, but they knew that if they sucked boys off at school, they would be caught frequently enough to embarrass themselves and their companions.

And the girls didn't want to get a reputation as the "school sluts."

So the sex with boys, and there was lots of it, took place off the school grounds.

The three girls hung out together as often as possible, especially at lunch, usually surrounded by randy hordes of boys.

They were always friends, never competitors. There were millions of men and only three of them.

Lisa and Roxy adored Nora and Ramona and had already conscripted them to work at the family Bank right after their high school graduation. If not sooner.

Who says high school is a bad time of one's life?

Chapter Four -- Roxy

Roxy waved goodbye to her family and set about the tasks of the day.

She loved her family and they loved her back. As a family, they were probably less dysfunctional than most.

Roxy knew for a fact that the group she lived with was better than the group she grew up with.

As she did every morning, a fairly content, well-fucked Roxy considered herself in the full-length mirror.

Not bad.

At age 54, Roxy's full, huge-nippled boobs had barely sagged and her belly was flat. Her gorgeous, classicly beautiful face was barely lined by age. Her legs were firm and shapely, with only a hint of vein showing. Her hair was shoulder-length and lustrously black.

And her ass...

Oh my. Roxy's ass...

Two perfectly shaped buttock cheeks. Charmingly plump. Full, warm pillows of love.

Just the slightest, wispiest hint of a sag.

Anus still tight and appetizing for any man with the tiniest bit of heterosexual desire.

Which was awfully good, Roxy thought, after nearly 50,000 loads of men's cum had found their way to those lovely bowels.

That's right. Do the math. An average of three hot, hard visitors per day, by Roxy's conservative estimate. For 44 years.

Which means she had her first fuckings when she was -- quite young.

It was the 60s -- 1964 to be exact. Things were different in the 60s. And Roxy was definitely the victim of some unenthusiastic parenting.

While Roxy made fun of Lisa for all her rules, Roxy wished she had been raised with a few.

Roxy was not as strict a Mom as Lisa was with Amber, but she did impart the values to Lisa that engendered those rules.

Even good-old-fashioned amorality has its limits.

But back to Roxy's physical wealth.

Since as long as Roxy could remember, until Lisa was in her late teens, men preferred her to any other woman in the world. Lisa, though she thought of herself as frumpy, now and then, had become the fairest of them all. More attractive than Roxy. But not by much.

Roxy would never admit that to Lisa or anyone else. But she knew her daughter was sexier than she was. And secretly, it made her proud.

Unsecretly, she did all kinds of things to retain her world-championship of erection production and cum dispersion.

Silly, but fun things like fucking Amber's six (thus far) senior prom dates on their 18th birthdays and for sometime after. And all seven of Lisa's prom dates almost 20 years earlier.

Roxy knew she wouldn't be "Roxy" forever. And basically, she was OK with that.

Maybe she would get married. White wedding gown. White picket fence. Tuna casserole every Friday.

Maybe not.

There were still plenty of men who wanted to share Roxy's bed. And there would be for years to come. She knew that for a fact.

Roxy also knew that she would have to help her daughter Lisa get through the tough time when she realizes that the men would be looking at Lisa right after they looked at Amber. Amber was nearing the championship that Lisa took from Roxy.

Good, Roxy thought. That was how it should be.

Roxy would also have to deal with issues related to the next generation of Freeloves. She knew that would be imminent. She and Lisa had discussed it. Amber wasn't focused on it yet. But she would be.

Very focused.

Roxy was only able to do all this hard thinking because she had never succumbed to the temptation to be a blonde. Well, there was junior year in high school, but that was an aberration.

Lisa and Amber also maintained their natural hair colors -- brunette and brunette, respectively.

Roxy took a slow, sensuous bath, cleansing herself of the impurities of the past 24 hours, in preparation for the impurities of the next 24 hours.

She patted herself dry, shaved her legs and blew her hair dry. She spent a good 40 minutes on the application of powder, lotion, perfume and cosmetics.

She was worth it.

OK, the Bank was important too, but so was the Freelove reputation. No Freelove would appear in public looking less than her best. And Roxy's best seemed to take longer and longer to achieve.

Roxy dressed next -- a large, white, retro brassiere (severely challenged, of course); black, ruffled, garter belt; black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; black, four-inch-stiletto pumps; a pretty, electric-blue dress, with a low-cut bodice; and black panties.

Roxy was particular about everything she wore, but particularly particular about her panties. She couldn't imagine why the girls today wouldn't wear stockings and garter belts, but insisted on wearing those horrible thong things and called them panties.

Thongs weren't panties. They showed the whole bottom. What was the point? Panty removal should be the last surrender to your man. The one that assures him you're "going all the way." The panty should cover something you can see when you remove it.

Roxy preferred sheer, black, bikini panties that merely suggested the bottom cheeks.

And that was what she wore that day.

She looked at her watch -- 10:45.

It was time to go to work at the family business. Didn't want to miss the lunch crowd.

Roxy locked the door, got into her car and drove to work.

Chapter Five -- "Hard" at work

Roxy made her daily grand entrance to work at 11:05. "Nurse" Madison , in all her blonde pantyboy glory, was on desk duty as Nurses Heather, Emily and Lisa were collecting samples from delighted patients. There were five patients in the waiting room.

Everyone looked up when Roxy strode in.

The men sat up straight. Madison stood up and said, "Good morning, Nurse Roxy!" The men echoed that greeting.

Roxy smiled luminously and said, "Good morning, everyone."

Roxy feasted on adoration.

She was always well fed.

Roxy swept past them all to her office, which, like Lisa's, was well-appointed with a bed and private bathroom. She hung up her dress and wiggled into her work clothes. A sexy nurse outfit that showed even more cleavage and more stocking top than Lisa's outfit.

She checked herself out in the mirror, pronounced herself babe-a-licious and went to work.

Room Three had a "medical" record in the slot. Roxy took it out and examined it. Hmm, a new patient.

Randy Cox. Forty-one-years old. Single. Librarian.

He had paid for a platinum number five.

The man has taste, Roxy thought. And he was lucky. Roxy would be his nurse for the treatment -- five minutes of warm-up kissing, followed by a ball bath for the "nurse" and a creamy oral treat from the nurse down the patient's throat, followed by the nurse returning both favors for the patient.

She opened the door and was delighted by the look of lustful shock and awe Mr. Cox gave Roxy.

Roxy loved that look.

"Good morning, Mr. Cox," she said. "I see you're a new patient. Thank you for choosing Freelove Sperm Bank for your necessary deposits."

Poor Randy was still wide-eyed and speechless. He had heard about the Freelove Sperm Bank. Everyone in town had. And he had almost become a "patient" many times. His mother had advised against it and he always did as Mother said. But just yesterday, Mother had moved to Florida with her latest boyfriend. So what Mother didn't know couldn't hurt her, could it?

Roxy saw Randy's fear, shame and lust and she approved. Just the right combination to maximize one's experience at the Bank, Roxy thought.

"I know you're a busy man, Mr. Cox, so perhaps we should begin the treatment. I see you're in a very needy condition."

Randy blushed. He was sitting on the examination table in only his tshirt. His fully exposed penis was stiff and drippy. And quite large.

Roxy put the file down, lifted her skirts, then shimmied down her panties.

When Randy saw the "eye" of Roxy's cock staring mostly at him, he nearly fainted.

Roxy decided that she had better take charge of the situation or the Bank would be experiencing its first patient fatality.

She sat on the exam table to Randy's left, lifted her skirts to fully expose her stiff cock, and said, "You can touch my thingee if you like. You can kiss me too."

Wow.

Randy was almost fatally aroused as he timidly laid his trembling hand on Roxy's big "thingee."

It was very hot to the touch. And hard, yet delicately smooth and soft in its own way.

Roxy gasped as Randy touched her cock.

A startled Randy withdrew his hand. Thinking about it a moment, he realized that the gasp was a good thing. So he reapplied his hand. And ran it along the substantial length of Roxy's proud peeny.

Roxy grunted softly to indicate her pleasure, then turned her head toward Randy's head in open-mouthed invitation for a kiss.

Randy accepted. He laid his mouth on the mouth of everyman's dream girl. Tasting the sweet nectar of her lipstick and saliva. Darting his tongue against hers. Then...gasp...feeling Roxy's soft hand traversing the length of his own cock.

Complain though she might to Lisa, Roxy loved her job.

Randy had a very nice cock. Thick and hot, with a fat head and soft peelips. A nice, seven-and-a-half inches by Roxy's expert reckoning. And a substantial foreskin that Roxy was skinning much to the agonized delight of her patient.

If Roxy kept that up, with all Randy's obvious excitement, Randy would...

Ooops.

It was all spurting out. Big creamy globs. Randy was whimpering softly through his French kiss as he shot out what looked like a lifetime supply of spunk.

Was Randy a virgin?

As it turned out, he wasn't. Though not by much. And he was certainly repressed by his mother.

And now an older woman was relieving his sexual frustrations,

What would Dr. Phil say about all that?

Nurse Roxy, didn't psychoanalyze her patients. She just emptied their balls.

Randy made quite a mess -- all over Roxy's pretty hand, his tshirt and belly, and the floor.

Randy followed his instincts and said, "Oh, Nurse Roxy, I'm so sorry I made a mess. Let me get something and clean it up."

Roxy smiled and tut-tutted him appropriately. "Messes are what we do here, Honey," Roxy said. "But we have a problem. We can't use that sample, so we'll have to take another."

Even the sweet, but moderately dim librarian got the meaning of that and smiled.

Roxy continued. "Of course, we can't take a sample just yet, can we? Your nurse is very needy too. You got me all excited and it says on your chart that you're willing to take a nice oral sample' of my material' too. Are you?"

Randy nodded eagerly.

"Good," Roxy said. Then she walked across the room, retrieved a pillow from a closet and tossed it onto the floor.

"Why don't you just kneel on that pillow, Baby, and I'll give you what you need more than anything right now?"

Randy eagerly complied.

Roxy wiggled over to where Randy was kneeling. In her big heels, her cock was perfectly positioned for Randy's oral attentions.

She lifted her skirts with her left hand and fully skinned the pink head of her seven-inch jewel with her right.

Randy began his long-awaited feast. He nuzzled her privates, taking in the sweet, feminine/masculine musk of her pink package.

Roxy didn't expect that and she adored the unexpected.

Then Randy set to work on a full bathing of Roxy's testicles.

Tonguing. Licking.

Very nice.

Had Randy been planning and rehearsing this day for a long time?

Apparently.

By the time Randy took Roxy's fat cockhead into his warm, moist mouth, Roxy was very steamy and almost creamy.

And rightly so. The poor lady hadn't emptied her aching balls in nearly four hours!

Randy's loving attentions made Roxy's nostrils flare and her legs weak. Randy swirled his tongue around and around Roxy's sensitive "pinkie." When he gave a long , slow, wet lick along the "arrow point" on the underside of Roxy's little head, that did it.

Roxy cried out and shot her considerable cream in thick glops all over Randy's face, hair and chest.

Roxy was delighted. Randy was delighted.

Heedless of his cummy condition, Randy stood, took a surprised Roxy into his arms and kissed her with elaborate tongue.

Digging deeply for his "inner man," Randy placed his hands on Roxy's shoulders, then gently, but firmly "forced" her knees to the pillow he had just occupied.

Roxy was enjoying herself tremendously. And, of course, it only got better when her mouth was stuffed with cock.

A condition that will brighten almost any day for almost anyone.

Randy's cock felt very nice in Roxy's mouth. She applied her considerable skills as a fellatrix to give Randy a memorable experience.

The inevitable, yet intensely enjoyable happened. Roxy swallowed every sweet drop.

The obligatory, post-faux-medical-procedure kiss followed, but it was not perfunctory.

Randy was in love!

Roxy got that a lot.

She wasn't in love...maybe with the men of the world, but not Mr. Randy Cox specifically.

But she liked him.

And she showed it by saying, "Mr. Cox, it's February and I get so cold sleeping alone. Would you like to stay with me tonight? All night?"

Randy actually gasped. Audibly.

The only audible sound he was able to produce. His enthusiastic nods signaled his eager agreement.

"Eight o'clock, Sweetie," Roxy said. "Here's the address."

And she left the treatment room and a quivering Randy Cox.

The professional day had started well for Roxy. She looked at the examination rooms to see who was next. There was a record in the holder of Room Four. Roxy reached for it.

But just then, Nurse Emily turned the corner and said, "Oh, Nurse Roxy. There you are. Nurse Lisa asked me to find you. VIP Number Three is here for you."

Number Three?

Goodie, Roxy said.

The day was getting better.

Roxy strode happily to her office bed and her appointment with VIP Number Three.

Meanwhile. Lisa, Madison and Emily were "working hard" to keep up with the building lunchtime crowd.

The Bank's regular patients -- those who visited twice a week or more -- spent a great deal of their work time thinking about how they would rather be "banking." So when lunch time approached, many grabbed the rent money and headed over for a gold number two (ball bath followed by a slow, wet blow job) or a platinum number one ("nursing" on a nurse's boobies, followed by a prostate massage, while receiving a proper cock swallowing).

It was intense work for the nurses, but the rewards were great. Especially for the Freeloves, who netted about $350,000 a year. The nurses' assistants didn't do badly either. They made $50,000 a year on the books and lots of tips off the books.

And neither the Freeloves nor their assistants had much to spend their money on.

Men seemed to always be giving the Freelove women things. And providing for them.

The Freeloves' gratitude was legendary.

Chapter Six -- After-School Special

When the last bell rang at school that day, Amber was in full anticipation of a great afternoon and evening.

Not that every afternoon and evening weren't great.

At first, she wasn't completely happy about "working" at the Bank every day after school. Her afternoons were already pretty good, what with the boy of her choice in her bed, giving her a full ration of stiff cock.

But Amber found Bank work very much to her liking.

She liked the "candy-striper" uniform she wore to arouse the patients.

She liked the patients. They were so needy and so grateful for her easement of their pain.

She liked the variety of patients. Lots of them, all wanting lots of different "treatments."

She really liked that many of the men paid a "special-nurse" extra fee to reserve Amber as their nurse -- in preference to her mother and grandmother.

And she liked the money. Lots of it. Lisa gave her a small allowance for working at the Bank, but the patients' tips were making her rich.

Walter met her as promised and she gave him a nice kiss. He held the door for her -- he was such a gentleman -- then got behind the wheel.

Amber said, "I'd love to hear all about your day, Walter. Unzip your pants, pull out your stiffie and you can tell me as I suck you."

Walter complied.

Wouldn't you?

Amber swallowed a very nice big load, just as they pulled into the Bank parking lot. It was full!

And so was Amber's mouth with Walter's slippery cock. She let the "pink snake" slide between her lips, then gave the head several soft kisses before she sat up. She kissed Walter on the lips, then said, "See you Saturday at my house, Walter. Eight p.m. Don't forget."

Even 12th-degree amnesia wouldn't allow him to forget that. Only 53 hours to go.

Amber scooted into the clinic and got a nice greeting from Nurse Emily at the front desk. And the men in the waiting room, of course.

It always interested Amber to note that the men in the waiting room didn't talk to each other. Kind of like they were in the men's room. Men were strange. But she loved them.

And men loved Amber.

She hustled to get into her candy-striper outfit, with skirts so short the men could see her entire stocking tops as well as a hint of creamy thigh. She didn't see her Mom, but she knew she was in one of the treatment rooms helping patients. She did see Heather emerging from room one, however and they gave each other a nice hug of greeting.

"Busy day, Amber," Heather said. "Is there a full moon tonight or something? The patients just keep coming. And cumming. [giggle]. Anyway, would you like to take room five for now?"

Not every nurse liked room five. It was too anonymous and impersonal for them.

Room five wasn't Amber's first choice either, but she knew that 1) a lot of patients were very excited by it and 2) as a part-timer, Amber was the lowest on the Bank's totem pole.

And Amber didn't really dislike the room five activities.

"OK, Heather," Amber said. "How many are lined up in there?"

"Three, no four now. Are you sure?"

Amber smiled brightly. "I'm sure. Now you scoot back to work. You know how my dictator Mom feels about chit-chat on the job."

Heather smiled, grabbed a "medical" record and went into room one.

Amber entered the nurses' entrance for room five. It was a bare, small-but-clean room with a six-inch-diameter, cock-high hole on one side and a stack of pillows on the other.

Amber took off her dress and hung it carefully. No sense in getting it messy. Then she grabbed a pillow and knelt in front of the hole. She flicked a switch that illuminated a small green light on the patient side of room five. A stiff cock and hanging balls appeared through the hole.

Amber set to work, taking the cockhead into her wet mouth as she manually and lovingly caressed the pendant balls.

All for the "glory" of the Freelove Sperm Bank.

Meanwhile, Roxy was saying goodbye to VIP Number Three. Who also went by the name, Henry Hangem.

Hangem was married -- happily it appeared. Five kids. Two dogs. Pretty wife.

Yet, Roxy, with Lisa's full consent, gave Hangem a two-hour trip to paradise every two weeks or so. Fucking. At the Bank. With a married man. For free.

Why did the Freeloves allow so many rules violations with this so-called VIP?

Simple.

He was their town's only criminal-court judge.

If someone were to get "stinky" about the Bank's perfectly normal activities and their possible legality, Judge Hangem was the Freeloves' "go-to guy."

Pussy has always bought influence. It is a force far stronger than gravity and always has been.

VIPs One and Four were their town's senior police offers.

No sense missing any of the bases that need covering.

Roxy took care of those influential fellows too, since Lisa had issues with fucking married men. Though she allowed her mother to do it in Roxy's Bank office.

Morality is a slippery slope, isn't it?

Roxy needed a bit of a wash-up after that very satisfying sexual bout. She was about to close her office door and recharge when she saw Lisa pass Roxy's office. She waved to Lisa. Lisa turned and entered Roxy's office and sat down.

Messy sheets, Lisa thought. The cleaning crew would take care of that

Messy Roxy. It was an hour until closing, which meant that Lisa wouldn't get much more from Roxy that day.

Lisa sighed. She knew that sometimes she drove herself and her Bank staff too hard. But as the family's only real grown-up, she had to take care of things, didn't she?

Lisa smiled at her mother. Roxy smiled back through a mask of cum.

They truly loved each other no matter what.

Satisfied with her situation in life -- for the moment, at least -- Lisa stood, kissed Roxy on a dry spot of her face and went back to work.

By 4:30, Amber had taken care of all the shy men lined up in Room Five and was back in her candy-striper dress outside Room Three. My goodness, she thought. The record in the slot indicated that the patient wanted a titanium number two and had paid extra for Amber herself to "perform the procedure."

Amber loved giving a titanium number two -- though it would involve removing the dress she just put back on.

Oh, well.

She opened the door and went in.

Oh, my!

It was Mr. Spankbottom, Amber's junior high school principal!

The man who for the past few years had gotten a stiffie every time Amber walked through his zip code.

Amber had adored teasing him all through her 6th-, 7th- and 8th-grade years. Wiggling her sweet bottom extra nicely for him as she passed his leering gaze.

Back then, teasing was all Amber could do for Mr. Spankbottom. She was jailbait and he was then and still was married.

But that day was different.

Amber opened the door and saw Mr. Spankbottom. He was wearing only his tshirt, his bare bottom on the examining table. He was sitting calmly, but expectedly. His cock was at full, drippy stand.

Amber remembered him as a very handsome, distinguished man, and he still was. Though he was older than Amber remembered.

When he saw Amber smile at him, he gasped.

Apparently, Mr. Spankbottom had been dreaming of sexual activity with Amber Freelove for quite some time.

On an educator's salary, a titanium number two was a significant investment.

Amber decided she should give him full return on his investment.

"Oh, Mr. Spankbottom," she said. "You don't know how many times I've dreamed about this moment."

Actually, Amber hadn't thought much about Mr. Spankbottom for a long time. But theater is a nice "extra" in sex.

Spankbottom's eyes got wide and moist.

"You have?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I'm so glad you're here. Would you unzip me, please?"

Spankbottom complied eagerly.

Amber was down to her bra, stockings, garter belt and heels, when she gave Spankbottom the first of what would be around 100 kisses.

A titanium number two was one hour of anything the patient wanted, except for bottom-fucking.

Anything. Except fucking.

For a whole hour.

Which would take the session beyond 5 p.m. closing time, but that was OK.

What wasn't OK, in Amber's estimation, was the restriction against fucking in the Bank.

Amber reasoned that 1) the way she had teased Mr. Spankbottom for all those years made her want him as much as he wanted her 2) Mr. Spankbottom may be married and everything, but wasn't all that other stuff he would be doing to and with Amber be against his vows too? And 3) Amber needed a fuck.

Amber hadn't cum all day at school and her efforts in Room Five hadn't made her spurt. So, despite Lisa's rules, Amber was going beyond titanium.

Amber and Spankbottom kissed ferociously, stroking each other's cocks.

But that was just a warm-up.

Spankbottom bent Amber over the examination table, got on his knees and stuck his tongue half a mile up her perfect bottom.

Amber screamed.

Sex screams didn't cause any more of a stir at the Bank than a bark did at the dog pound.

Spankbottom then excavated deliciously, as Amber's squeals attested.

He ate and ate and she squealed and grunted. Occasionally, he withdrew his tongue from her bottom, dove between her legs, and licked the underside of her balls.

He was very good.

And she was frightfully excited.

Amber turned her head and growled, "Stop fucking around and fucking fuck me now!"

Spankbottom got the idea.

He stood up, lined his cock up with her sopping anus and pushed.

Amber groaned as she felt Spankbottom's cock stroke her prostate.

She felt the buildup in her testicles -- first small -- then insistent -- then urgent.

He pushed and pushed and groaned and groaned. She looked back, locked eyes with Spankbottom, then gasped and pumped her sweet cream in thick arcs.

Spankbottom answered with a bum-drenching gusher of his own.

Their lust went from red to "Amber" as their orgasmic aftershocks subsided.

With 35 minutes of titaniumic fun left, Amber let Spankbottom's limpie drool out of her bottom, then knelt in front of him and set about oral resurrection of his peener.

The mission was accomplished in 15 minutes -- a fine stiff specimen for a fine round two.

Amber stood, lay on her back on the examining table, lifted her knees and invited her man to fuck her titaniumically.

He accepted.

At 5:22, Amber spermed her belly. At 5:24, Spankbottom spermed her bottom.

They kissed for three hot minutes, then at 5:30, Mr. Spankbottom walked out wearing his pants and a huge smile.

Amber cleaned herself up as well as she could, inserting a tampon to hide her little indiscretion from her snoopy, though virtuous Mom.

At 5:43, she was at the front door watching her Mom and Heather lock up. She kissed Heather goodbye and got into the car with Lisa.

"How was your day, Honey," Lisa asked.

"The usual, Mom," Amber said. "How about yours?"

"The usual," Lisa said. And they both giggled.

They arrived home shortly before six to discover that, much to their surprise, Roxy had set the table.

Roxy wasn't often domestic.

Lisa checked the crockpot meal she had created that morning and pronounced it ready.

As they almost always did, unless someone had an "outside" date, Roxy, Lisa and Amber had dinner together. It was, as almost always, very pleasant.

As they began cleaning up. Amber asked Lisa, "Mom, can Nora and Ramona come to work tomorrow? I think they would be great candy-stripers. And they're over 18 and everything, so they don't need permission from their parents."

Lisa wasn't sold on the idea. "I don't know, Honey," she said, "They're still young and inexperienced. Not every girl can work at the Bank. It can be challenging."

Roxy snorted. "What's so challenging? Those girls have been sucking cock for years. And swallowing, I'm sure. They're hot little tamales and men will love them. Plus, I could use a day off tomorrow to go to the salon."

Lisa frowned.

Amber said, "Mom, remember `Bring-Your-Daughter-to-Work Day?"

Lisa winced a bit. Since Amber was 13, Lisa had brought her to the Bank one day a year to shadow her around the business. It certainly opened Amber's eyes about the business world. And it certainly moved the workday along, since the men Lisa was "treating" lost their loads twice as quickly when a young Amber was watching Lisa's sperm-removal efforts.

Amber pressed, "So I was young and inexperienced too, Mom, but I had to learn sometime, right? Oh, please, Mom, Nora and Ramona will be great! And they'll make us a lot of money. With seven nurses this summer, we could even expand the hours."

Lisa had to admit that she saw dollar signs. And Nora and Ramona were sweet girls.

"OK, Amber," Lisa said. "But have Heather show them the ropes first before they treat their first patients."

Amber hugged Lisa, then ran off to phone Nora and Ramona with the good news..

As Lisa and Roxy finished cleaning up, Roxy asked, "Who's your date, tonight?"

Lisa's face went pale. "Oh, Mom. I forgot to make a date. I was so busy at work."

Roxy hugged Lisa and said, "It's OK, Lisa. You've been pushing yourself. It's only 7:15. There are a hundred men you could call and have them over here by 8."

Lisa knew that. But she had to admit something to her mother. "Maybe I'm ready for a relationship."

Roxy was mildly surprised. Freelove women's "relationships" were measured in days, not weeks, months or years. Amber had been fucking that nice Mr. Bunsen for a week, so Roxy was sure that was almost over. Lisa, though, had always been the "squarest" one of the clan. Maybe it was time for her to have a real relationship with a man.

"Maybe, you're ready, Honey," Roxy said. "But that's something to worry about tomorrow. You don't want to sleep alone and unfucked tonight, do you?"

Lisa recoiled. "Goodness no. You're right. Let me make some calls."

One call was all it took. A delighted and eager, 30-something fellow named Jason, whom Lisa had known since high school.

At 8 o'clock, in accordance with Freelove custom, Roxy, Lisa and Amber were in their beds, each entwined with her man of the evening.

And so their days ended in the delightful way they always did.

Chapter Seven -- Breaks in the Routine

Funny how so much can change in one day.

The next morning, just as the previous morning, Lisa "emptied" her date, roused Amber to do the same and watched as the men departed.

Lisa hummed to herself as she poured batter into the waffle maker, then set the table for Amber and herself.

It was Friday, so Lisa was thinking about some of the things she had planned for the weekend. Definitely some time at the salon -- probably some lingerie shopping.

Amber's door opened and she staggered out.

It wasn't the big cock that had recently occupied Amber's ass that made her stagger. That was routine for a Freelove.

And it wasn't just a stagger. Her face looked ashen. With a tinge of green.

Lisa took one look at her and diagnosed Amber's condition.

Morning sickness!

Amber looked at her mother, put her hand to her mouth, ran back to her bathroom, and barfed.

Amber felt awful.

She considered why.

Amber, like her mother and grandmother, was almost never sick. Was it something she ate? Had Mr. Bunsen's sperm not agreed with her?

She felt better after she puked, gathered herself a bit and joined her Mom for breakfast.

Amber sat and considered her waffle. She looked up and her mother was looking at her.

"What, Mom?" she asked.

Lisa smiled. "I think my little girl is pregnant."

Amber went cold inside.

Denial comes first.

"No way, Mom," Amber said. "I take the pills."

"They don't always work, Honey," Lisa said. Especially when your Mom switches your birth-control pills with sugar pills, Lisa thought.

Amber's eyes filled with tears. "But Mom, I don't want to be pregnant. I'm scared."

Lisa got up, took Amber into her arms and comforted her.

"We were all scared, Sweetie. It's what we women do. Freelove women especially. We all have our babies young. You're perfectly healthy and you'll have a healthy baby. And you'll be a wonderful mother. Just to be sure, I'll take you to the obstetrician after school today."

Amber was processing what was happening to her. She began to come to grips with the beautiful, natural act that faced her.

After a lot of crying and hugging, then waffle-eating, Lisa and Amber got themselves ready and left for work and school. Lisa reminded Amber to remind Nora and Ramona that they would be "working" at the bank after school, which was super important since Lisa and Amber would be at the obstetrician.

Amber knew that her girlfriends needed no reminding. They had been ready for that day all their lives.

Roxy and her big-cocked date missed the whole thing. Which was OK with Roxy, who wasn't exactly maternal and completely un-grandmaternal.

When Roxy arrived at the Bank at 10:33, Lisa spoke with her at the first opportunity.

"Mom," Lisa said, "I'm pretty sure Amber's pregnant. We're going to see Doctor Obgyn after work today."

Roxy was delighted. She gave Lisa a big hug and they jumped up and down in their four-inch-stilettos.

The beat goes on, Roxy thought. The Freelove beat goes on.

Roxy was so happy she decided to be sort-of responsible that day. Instead of knocking off early, as she did most Fridays (and many other days), Roxy would stay at the Bank to make sure the new "temps" learned the ropes.

The beat goes on.

Things got so hectic that day that Roxy forgot to tell Lisa that Dr. Willard Obgyn had retired recently and that his young nephew, Dr. Alan Obgyn had taken over his practice.

Roxy remembered Willard Obgyn fondly. He was a great fuck. Had been since he delivered Lisa 36 years ago, then Amber 18 years later. He was also VIP Number Two at the Bank and always would be. Willard was the only doctor in the world who truly understood the Freelove women's physiology. Best of all, he never wrote a medical journal article or blew his own horn about his knowledge of the Freeloves.

He could have been rich and famous.

But he chose wisely.

By keeping things quiet, he gained lifelong, spectacular, all-he-could-eat, Freelove pussy.

More than a fair deal, most would say.

Roxy wondered about Dr. Willie's nephew Alan's medical credentials and capabilities. Then she stopped wondering. It wasn't her problem anymore. Not a problem for the (UGH!!) great-grandmother. Lisa could deal with things now.

Roxy giggled at the fact that Lisa was going to be a grandmother.

At school that day, Amber was very preoccupied thinking about her likely, imminent motherhood. She wasn't really worried about the discomfort of pregnancy or the pain of childbirth. She hadn't processed the idea that she would be caring for an infant, probably the most exhausting part of it all. And she certainly wasn't concerned about being a social outcast as a pregnant teen. What had her the most concerned at that moment was looking like a cow for her seventh and last senior prom and the summer thereafter.

Would men be repulsed by her big belly and hanging boobs? Would she go to bed at night, alone and unfucked, lying on her back with her enormous belly sticking skyward?

Not bloody likely.

Roxy and Lisa had told Amber stories for years about their pregnancies -- the best sex of their lives, they said. Men were wild animals when fucking a big-bellied Freelove, they said.

Were Amber's mother and grandmother telling her the truth? She was about to find out.

Amber met her Mom in front of school at 2:30. The boys, of course, were five deep watching Amber wiggle to the parking lot in her big heels; black, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; minidress and winter jacket.

Would they still be there when she was wearing a maternity dress, waddling along?

Lisa smiled at Amber when she got into the car.

"Don't worry, Honey," Lisa said. "They'll still be stiff-cocked and drooling, even when you're 8.9999 months pregnant. Men will always want us Freeloves."

Amber smiled and touched her mother's arm. "Thanks, Mom. But we don't even know for sure about the pregnancy yet, do we?"

Lisa nodded. But she knew Amber was pregnant. It was a Freelove's destiny to get pregnant at 18.

At 2:45, they pulled into the parking lot of the medical building. As usual, their presence caused a stir, men's necks turning to hazardous angles.

Lisa approached the desk and said, "We have an appointment with Dr. Obgyn...Amber Freelove...my daughter. Willard, I mean, Dr. Obgyn, delivered me and my daughter, so he never makes us wait."

"Dr. Wiilard Obgyn retired last month, Ms. Freelove. His nephew, Dr. Alan Freelove, has taken over his practice," the assistant said.

Well, that set Lisa back a peg. Then she thought, Roxy must have known. Willie fucks her at least once a week.

Grrrrrr. She would let Roxy know her feelings on that later.

Alan Freelove, huh?

Well, what could she do? And they were there already.

"OK," Lisa said.

She moved toward Amber and was about to sit down with her when a side door flew open and a VERY handsome, 30-something man in a doctor's coat with stethoscope appeared.

Lisa looked up and locked eyes with the man.

Dr. Alan Obgyn locked eyes with Lisa.

Something happened.

Something big.

Sicilians call it "the Thunderbolt."

Lisa felt something. Something she hadn't felt in some time.

Alan felt something. Something he had never felt.

Lisa erected fiercely, tenting her panties and making an unsightly lump in her skirts.

Alan got such a big stiffie that his doctor's coat lumped out.

Neither said a word.

They just stared at each other.

Dreaming dreams they'd never dared to dream before.

Lisa had experienced men falling in love with her before. At least twice a week. And she had even felt twinges of love for men.

Twinges.

This was like Krypton exploding in the pit of her stomach.

And they hadn't even fucked. Or kissed. Or spoken to each other.

Why?

Why could women with a cock and no vagina have children?

Alan finally spoke. "Mrs. Freelove, it's an honor to meet you. And your daughter, Miss Freelove. My Uncle Willie spoke of you very fondly. And he made it his life's work to pass on to me his knowledge of your `unique' physiology."

With the tiny part of her brain that was still functioning, Lisa felt relieved that someone could take care of Amber through her pregnancy.

The rest of her brain was transforming her into a smitten pile of teen-like goo.

Her vacuous response was to giggle and bat her inch-long eyelashes at Alan.

How humiliated Lisa would have been if her brain had been functioning quasi-properly.

In her addled condition, giggling seemed like a highly verbal state.

Amber was amused, surprised and somewhat appalled.

Her Mom had never acted like that with anyone before. She was acting as if she were 15. A flirty, love-struck, clueless 15.

Amber said, "Shall I go to an examination room, Dr. Alan?"

Without taking his eyes off Lisa, Alan said, "Huh? Oh. OK. Room two."

Amber grabbed him by the arm and led him to room two. Which seemed to revive the doctor a smidge. A completely smitten and inarticulate Lisa followed them into the examination room.

Alan closed the door and avoided looking at Lisa, lest he be bewitched.

The break in eye contact seemed to ease Lisa's symptoms a bit. Her back to Alan, she helped Amber strip to her bra, stockings and garters.

Alan, who saw women's pooties every day -- lots of them -- was feeling far less professional than the demands of Hippocrates. The sight of Amber Freelove, lying on his exam table, legs spread, feet in exam stirrups, large, veined, drooling cock, erect and throbbing, gorgeous legs in black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Oh.

Alan shook his head hard, then blinked. He managed to get a grip.

As long as he didn't look at Lisa.

So he focused on his job. Examining the gorgeous, sex-dripping Amber.

He donned a latex glove, lubed his fingers and manually examined Amber's anus. Found her prostate. Rubbed it. Medically.

Amber, who had been in school all day, hadn't cum in eight hours. Until the handsome doctor examined her pussy. She wasn't trying to cum or anything. But cum she did. In big, thick, creamy ropes.

As he witnessed, for the first time in his life, a beautiful girl spurting sperm, Alan was fascinated, intrigued, embarrassed, aroused and even a bit repulsed. A heady stew indeed.

Amber was a tiny bit embarrassed, though Roxy had told her many times that there was never a bad time to have an orgasm.

The awkward moment was addressed by Lisa, whose motherly instincts had roused her to wakefulness.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Obgyn," Lisa said. "Amber's a good girl, but she's at that age where she has needs and you're such a handsome man. Not that there's a specific age where a girl would have more or less need for a handsome man. Such as yourself."

Alan smiled at Lisa and the two of them forgot about everyone except each other.

Until Amber reminded them that she was lying in her own cum, with her feet in stirrups. Awaiting a pregnancy test. Which was very important, wasn't it?

Alan said, "I'll be right with you, Amber. Uh, Mrs. Freelove, if you're not busy, I wonder if we could go out for coffee. After Amber's exam. I mean."

Lisa giggled, batted her lengthy lashes and nodded.

Alan's spirits soared. Then he realized that the sooner he attended to Amber, the sooner he would be sharing caffeine with Lisa.

So he examined Amber. Professionally. Without further cummage. And the tests that confirmed Amber's pregnancy.

Amber seemed quietly happy. Lisa seemed delighted, partly for Amber, partly for her grandchild, and partly for having met someone who could become the love of her life.

It was a good thing that Amber had her driver's license, because despite the import of the occasion, Amber was on her own for getting home.

Alan closed the practice early and took Lisa to his Lexus for a drive to the local Starbuck's for latte and flirting.

Lisa found her voice and they had a wonderful, three-hour, four-latte conversation about their lives. They were the same age. Alan was single and not seeing anyone in particular, which was sort of true for Lisa, who was seeing everyone, not anyone in particular.

It felt like a real date to Lisa. One where conversation and a search for intellectual intimacy trumped sex.

Lisa hadn't had a real date since high school. Maybe sixth grade.

She liked it.

He liked it.

He offered to buy her dinner, but she said she wanted to get home to her newly pregnant daughter. Normality. What people do.

So he drove her home. She didn't even suck his cock as he drove or anything. In fact, they didn't even touch until they got to Lisa's door.

"I had a wonderful time, Lisa," Alan said. "May I take you to dinner tomorrow night -- pick you up at seven?"

"Oh, yes, Alan," Lisa said. Then she parted her lips and tilted her head slightly, inviting a kiss.

Alan accepted. And then he kissed her.

Skyrockets in flight!

Souls merging.

Only a 45-second kiss, but a turning point for Lisa.

At 36, for the first and perhaps only time of her life, she was hopelessly in love.

And Alan returned her love.

Chapter Eight -- All you need is love

Lisa entered her home, closed the door and leaned against it.

Her heart was beating wildly and she was flushed and breathing shallowly.

Roxy and Amber looked up from the table where they were finishing dinner.

And stared at Lisa.

Roxy knew what she was looking at, but she couldn't believe it.

Her daughter was in love.

Despite the family name, romantic love was not a Freelove family affliction.

Roxy had nothing against the concept of love. She just found it...constricting.

So many men out there -- why love just one?

Amber thought her Mom was having a seizure or something. Which was too bad, since she had just left the doctor.

Roxy put her arm around Amber and said, "Your Mom is OK, Honey. She won't die or anything. It'll just feel like it. It seems your mother is in love."

"Love?" Amber said. "Love makes you lose your power to speak and reason and stand up straight and even breathe?"

"Apparently so." Roxy said. "Apparently so."

Roxy and Amber helped Lisa take her coat off, sat her in a chair and brought her a cup of tea.

Though Amber was the one "in a delicate condition," Lisa was the one in most need of attention that evening.

Amber was mystified by her mother's wildly uncharacteristic demeanor, Roxy had been on the planet long enough to know what was happening. And, perhaps, how to deal with it.

"Leave your mother alone, Amber, dear," Roxy said. "She's fine. We'll discuss things in the morning. I'll even get up to join you for breakfast. Though I don't get up too early on Saturdays. Maybe I'll make waffles."

Waffles? Had Amber entered another dimension? Roxy didn't cook. And she didn't eat breakfast.

That wasn't the worst of it. "But Roxy," Amber said. "It's almost 8 and Mom doesn't have a date for tonight."

Roxy tut-tutted a bit and said, "That's all right dear. I know you're mother hasn't slept without a man in 18 years, but trust me, she needs her space tonight."

Heresy!

What was happening? Amber thought. This "love" thing was ruining everything. The Freeloves' great, perfectly normal life was falling apart.

And worse, Amber just found out she was pregnant. Shouldn't she be the one getting all the attention?

The doorbell rang and Roxy welcomed her and Amber's studs du noir. Only two. None for Lisa.

Who was sitting at the kitchen table. Smiling. And doodling on a pad: "Lisa Freelove Obgyn. Lisa Obgyn. Mrs. Lisa Obgyn." And the best, "Dr. and Mrs. Alan Obgyn."

The Freeloves' world was spinning backward. One third of it anyway. The other two-thirds were in their bedrooms having their asses fucked.

Chapter Nine -- The Courtship of Amber's Mother

That Saturday, Alan Obgyn was counting the minutes until he could see Lisa again.

Lisa.

The most beautiful woman on earth.

The sexiest grandmother in history.

Uncle Willie had told Alan about the Freeloves. All about them. For years. He even showed Alan pictures.

Nothing prepared Alan for the experience of breathing the same air as Lisa Freelove.

Beyond angelic. The distilled essence of femininity. An exquisite beauty.

And, unexpectedly, a sweet, interesting person. Like Alan, a businessperson. In the medical field. Sort of. The healing arts, surely.

But the best part, the very best, totally unexpected part, was that Lisa seemed as head-over-heels smitten with Alan as Alan was with Lisa.

Wow.

Sigh.

Uncle Willie had described the Freeloves to Alan as sort of a sex cartel. Not the kind RICO laws and the Sherman Antitrust Act go after. The kind, about which, everyone says, "I want some of that."

But Lisa didn't act like some sex magnate. She seemed like a slightly older college girl. Graduate school maybe. Living with her extended family. Taking care, perhaps of her aging mother.

And that kiss. Even though it almost made Alan cream his pants, was brief and tongueless.

Still, Lisa oozed sex. And while Alan had already decided that he wanted to marry Lisa, have babies with her and eat her meatloaf for the next 50 years, he wanted to fuck her too.

Oh my, did he want to fuck her.

Who wouldn't?

Maybe if he played his cards right, on the third date, she'd let him reach under her bra and handle those magnificent mammaries.

Maybe.

Meanwhile, Lisa was awakENing from a restless night.

She wasn't used to going to sleep in an unfucked condition. And she never realized how big her bed was -- never having slept in it alone before.

Still, Lisa was deliriously happy. She had found Mr. Absolutely-Fucking-Right. And he was not getting away.

Since it was Saturday, there was no 7:15 rule. Since she couldn't sleep, Lisa arose at 7. She puttered around the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher and absently listening to the muffled grunts and squeals of sex coming from Amber's and Roxy's rooms.

The smells of coffee and bacon roused Amber, who dismissed her morning paramour and sat down with Lisa to eat pancakes and bacon.

Freelove pregnancies were usually gentler than the rest of the world's baby-gestations. So Lisa was able to eat and enjoy a hearty repast.

"Don't eat too much, Honey," Lisa said. "Roxy's making waffles when she gets up."

They both giggled fiercely at that.

Then Lisa asked Amber if they could go shopping that Saturday. "I need a dress for my date with Alan tonight. Something not too slutty. And maybe you should start looking at maternity clothes, my little mother-to-be."

"Mommmm. It's way too early for maternity clothes. Isn't it?"

"You're only six weeks along, Honey. But we'll definitely need new things for you in the spring. And a prom dress should be ordered early for someone in your...evolving condition."

Amber wondered about the whole concept of maternity prom dresses. And boys who would date someone who wears one. Would Amber suddenly become...less popular?

Not bloody likely.

In her heart, Amber knew that a Freelove never wanes in popularity. Mom and Roxy always told tales of dating during their pregnancies. Apparently, there was a long line of men quite eager to play "around the world," traversing a big, Freelove belly to fuck a tight Freelove bottom.

Amber told herself to stop worrying about her own potential sex life and focus on the real problem -- her mother's current sex life.

Lisa Freelove hadn't been fucked in nearly 30 hours!!!!

It was a wonder she was able to stand! And speak!

Yet, she seemed perfectly fine. Happy. Even to Amber's well-trained eye.

Lisa was almost floating, as she and Amber wiggled through the mall parking lot in their short skirts and big, spiky heels, despite the 10-degree-Fahrenheit wind-chill. Enjoying, as always, the hot stares and drools of every man who saw them.

Amber was baffled. Mom was unfucked, yet happy. How could that be?

Maybe she wasn't planning to remain unfucked for long.

"Let's go to `Chez Busty Frocks,' Amber," the sickeningly happy Lisa said. "I need a little black dress that doesn't show everything I've got. Don't want my man to think I'm a tramp."

Amber stared dully. Not a tramp? But that's who Lisa was. That's who all the Freeloves were. If they weren't tramps, who were they?

Lisa said, "I think `Knocked-Up Teen' is in the same wing of the mall, Amber. It's too early for that yet, but we can window shop."

Amber followed her energized, over-stimulated mother obediently. Too much in Amber's perfect life had been shuffled in a two-day period.

But the surprises weren't over.

Amber wasn't sure why Lisa chose a roundabout route to the dress shop. Walking more than you need to in five-inch heels is unpleasant, even for a Freelove.

Then Lisa found out.

"Oh look, Amber," Lisa said. "It's `Big-Boobed Bride!' I didn't know they had a store here. Let's just go in and look."

A bridal store?!?! Lisa was shell-shocked.

Was Mom thinking about...about...

But no Freelove ever...

Amber watched in horror as Lisa commandeered a sales woman and spent four hours trying on wedding gowns.

When they finally left the store and headed for the dress shop, Lisa addressed Amber's agony.

"Nothing stays the same forever, Honey. I've loved my life so far. But yesterday I met the man I'm going to marry. And my life will change. Not because he'll want me to change. Because I'll want to change. We all have to grab for our own happiness and I'm not giving up my chance."

Amber looked at her mother and she actually understood her needs and wants. How many of us can say that about anybody?

Amber's eyes filled with tears and she threw her arms around Lisa. Lisa cried bigger tears and hugged Lisa back.

A small gang of men encircled them, hoping for a "lesbo show."

But no.

Lisa broke the clinch, shooed the men away, then walked arm-in-arm with her daughter. Amber said, "I just want you to be happy, Mom. And I know you will be with Dr. Obgyn. Even though tonight's your first real date, I know you two will probably be married before you're a grandmother."

Lisa cried a bunch more happy tears, then said, "And my granddaughter will be younger than my second daughter. Which I expect will be in about nine-and-a-half months, since I stopped taking birth-control this morning. And I also stopped fucking any men other than my husband-to be."

A tsunami of change.

Love does things like that.

Chapter Ten -- The First of a Lifetime of Dates

Lisa found her dress that fateful Saturday afternoon and was fully into it at 6:55 p.m.

She admired her image in the full-length mirror in her room.

The dress was perfect.

It showed a hint of cleavage without screaming "Slut!"

The flouncy hem sat two inches above her knees, rather than just below the stocking top.

The fit was not loose, but not the tarty, almost skin-tight she usually wore.

The saleswoman at the dress shop asked Lisa if she was entering a convent.

No, just a permanent, loving relationship.

Lisa liked the make-up job she had done as well. She cut the eye make-up by about 50%. Which made her look sexy, not cheap.

Black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings were not negotiable. Nor were black, four-inch-stiletto heels. Even good girls wore those. Or they should.

Her panties and bra were black and lacy, of course. She was pretty sure that Alan had heard that a girl who wears black undies on a date is looking to be fucked.

She definitely wanted to be fucked. By Alan. Just didn't want to scream it. Maybe say it softly.

Lisa grabbed her little purse and turned when Roxy knocked on her door. "Your young man is here, Kitten," Roxy said. "Be a good girl tonight and keep your panties on."

Lisa and Roxy looked at each other and got the giggles. Then they hugged.

Roxy was just fine with Lisa's new direction. Her daughter was a grown-up. It was about time she made some decisions about her personal life.

Maybe Roxy would settle down too. Lots of eager candidates. Rich ones too.

Maybe later. She was still young.

Anyway, Lisa took a deep breath and left her room.

There he was. Sitting on the couch.

Alan stood when Lisa entered the living room.

He was gorgeous!

And it was clear that he thought Lisa was gorgeous.

Was that Alan's heart Lisa heard thumping? Or her own?

Lisa nearly gave Alan radiation poisoning with her smile.

He felt like a shy teenager inexplicably lucky enough to get a date with the prom queens' prom queen.

She was conscious that her cock was rock hard, stiff and tenting her dress.

Alan didn't notice. He hadn't even looked her up and down yet -- so lost was he in the beauty of her eyes.

The spell held for a good minute until Alan finally said, "I know it's corny, but I bought you a corsage." Lisa thought that was precious!!

Alan moved forward to pin it below her left shoulder. Though it was dangerous for a man armed with a sharp flower pin to be in a state of "intoxication by perfume."

Somehow the young doctor completed the pinning. Lisa thanked him sweetly, then offered her cheek for a kiss.

Alan's lips burned Lisa's cheek.

For a moment, Lisa considered just taking Alan to her room and letting him cream her bottom all night. But she knew that's not how one does a proper first date. He has to buy you dinner before he fucks you. Then it's proper.

So they managed to get out of the house, into Alan's car, to a lovely, fancy restaurant and back into Alan's car. With lots of good conversation. It appeared that besides lusting after each other, they liked each other. A good sign.

Alan and Lisa buckled their seat belts. Alan said, "I had a wonderful time tonight Lisa. I can't imagine ever wanting to spend a day with any other woman for the rest of my life."

Lisa actually blushed. "Me too, Alan. These last two days have been the best of my life. I want to be with you forever."

Alan leaned over and kissed Lisa on the mouth, with just a hint of tongue. Then he withdrew and reached into his pocket.

"Maybe this is crazy, but I think that what we just said to each other makes what I spent my day looking for the exact, perfect, right thing to do. Not a fit of insane impetuousness."

He showed his hand to Lisa. A small box was in his palm. Was it...

It was. He opened the box to reveal a three-carat engagement ring. "Lisa Freelove, will you make me the happiest and luckiest man in the world by marrying me?"

Happy, happy, joy, joy!

"Oh, yes, yes, a billion times yes!"

And they hadn't even fucked yet.

That was about to change.

The newly affianced couple kissed hungrily, like teenagers in Daddy's car. Until inspiration struck Alan.

"Lisa, my sweet darling, I was going to take you home, kiss you good night and hope for more on our third or fourth date. But since we're engaged and everything, well, uh, would you like to see my apartment? It's not much. We'll get a house and everything when we're married and ..."

Lisa put her painted fingernail over her fiancé's sweet lips. "Of course I want to spend the night with you, sweetheart. Since we're engaged, I'm yours for the asking...and the taking. Whenever you want and as much as you're able."

Alan shuddered with lust. He disengaged from Lisa's embrace and engaged the car. They set a new world land speed record for getting to Alan's apartment.

Alan opened the door for Lisa. She was impressed with Alan's neatness and good taste. A good sign. She would need to spend less time domesticating him and more time sucking his cock.

Which was threatening to pierce his trousers.

After a brief inspection of the layout, Lisa wanted her own layout. "Where's the bedroom, darling?" she asked her drooling fiancé.

Alan took her by the arm and led her to a nice, neat room with a king-size bed, covered with clean sheets and a tasteful bedspread.

Lisa looked over her shoulder at a lovestruck Alan, batted her eyes and said, "Unzip me, please, Alan."

Alan gulped, then stepped up to slowly unzip his woman's dress. Revealing her creamy back, then her black, severely challenged bra strap. Then he eased it off both her shoulders and watched with delight as Lisa shuddered off the dress, letting it puddle onto the floor.

Alan quickly shed his suit, shirt, tie, shoes, socks and undershirt then, wearing only his boxers, embraced Lisa from behind. Felt her warmth. Her softness. And her sweet surrender to his superior virility.

At least, that was what it felt like.

Lisa cooed as Alan wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. Then she turned and faced him.

She liked what she saw. He was buff and toned. With just enough man-hair. And something big and hard was tenting his boxers.

He liked what he saw. Who wouldn't? Lisa's huge breasts strained at her bra cups. Her big, thick cock had escaped her panties and was pointing right at Alan. Dripping.

Lisa hooked Alan's boxers with both thumbs and slid them down and off. There's the "boxer snake!" Yum. A very nice one. Big and hot and hard. With precum oozing incessantly from its peelips.

Alan slid Lisa's panties off to reveal her own stiffie. Roughly the size of Alan's, but girlier somehow. Being attached to a megababe as it was.

Lisa reached behind to unhook her bra to "spring the puppies" and there they were -- the eighth and ninth wonders of the world.

Big and full, with huge, brown nipples aching for Alan's kisses.

Naked at last (except for Lisa's stockings and garter belt), the lovers kissed and rubbed cocks. Lisa's stiff, puffy nipples chafing against Alan's manly chest hair.

The pair kissed their way to Alan's bed, where Alan went to work on Lisa's nipples. Adoring them with his lips and tongue. Making poor, sex-starved Lisa gasp, arch her back and spurt thick, creamy globs all over her garter belt, tummy and chest. And Alan's cheek.

Wow, he thought. She spurted just from me kissing her titties. What else does she like?

Alan had a lifetime to find out. Lisa was very impressed when Alan bent to lick up all of Lisa's cummy goodness from herself and him. Then the impetuous man went to work on his lover's "pink package," licking the drooling tip of Lisa's recently expended cock. Then administering a proper tongue bath to Lisa's tender testicles.

Oh, dear. Was Lisa stiff again? What a little slut Alan must think she was!

The bad boy was sucking her in earnest now, showing a fellatrical skill that he hadn't used since he and Billy Boycumm, his best friend, played "Truth or Dare" when they were 12. And 13. And, come to think of it, 14 and 15.

Alan's skill at cocksucking was another mark in the plus column as far as Lisa was concerned. He was so good that he made her cum quite hard and quite profusely, down his eager throat. No mess that time.

But she had cum twice and poor Alan was approaching "Code Blue" in his ball bag.

Lisa brought Alan up for face-to-face kissing, then said, "That was incredible, darling. Now it's your turn. I lubed my bottom just for you. I want you to fuck me now, put your seed in me and make me pregnant. I stopped taking birth control because I want your baby. We're going to have lots of babies, starting now. I picked out my wedding gown today, so we can get married in six weeks or so. I won't be showing at the wedding and the birth will be just close enough that tongues won't wag.

"But enough talk. Do you want to make me pregnant?"

Alan groaned. "Oh yes, Lisa. I want to make love to you, now and every day of our lives, "

Lisa lay on her back, spread her stockinged legs, lifted her knees up and said, "It's all yours, Baby."

Alan paused a moment to consider his incredible good fortune. Then he placed Lisa's stockinged calves on his shoulders, covering her with his body. Like a stallion with his mare, Alan mounted Lisa and with one smooth thrust, pushed his cock fully into her well-travelled, yet tight-as-a-Scotsman pussy.

Lisa cried out. Alan groaned with ecstasy. They fucked. Each rub tormenting Lisa's tender prostate.

They kissed as they fucked, melding together in sweet love.

Alan didn't want to cum quickly, but despite his best efforts, he was ready for the big leap after only five intense minutes. Lisa understood. She was near a third blast herself. Fucking someone you love is the world's best aphrodisiac.

Rub. Kiss. Pant. Gasp. Whimper.

And there they were. Cumming as one. Creamy goo spurting and oozing every which way. Sealing their love and foreshadowing a magnificent future of Mom, Dad and more Freelove-Obgyn girls.

EPILOGUE

So, Alan and Lisa set the date, six Saturdays after their first real date.

Roxy finally had to be the grown-up in the family, what with a pregnant Amber all hormonal and a lovestruck Lisa spending all her time planning the wedding or fucking Alan.

Roxy was OK with all that.

She knew the sperm bank business would go on, even if, as Lisa said, she wouldn't be "taking samples" any more. Just running the business. Monogamously.

Roxy snorted at that. We'll see how long that lasts, she thought.

They wouldn't really need Lisa for "sampling" at the Bank, what with Amber's friends Nora and Ramona coming on full time after graduation. And Amber, once she had the baby.

Oh no, Roxy thought. I'm going to be a great-grandmother.

Then she remembered that someone else would be even more disturbed by that thought. And the thought that Lisa was leaving the Freelove lifestyle and going for conventional happiness.

So it was, of course, time to rub that in her face.

Dialing a half-familiar Florida number.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello."

"Velma?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"Roxy, your daughter. Amber's pregnant. You're about to become a great-great-grandmother. And Lisa's getting married. To a doctor. Picket-fenced house. Monogamy. Kids who know who their father is."

Silence.

More silence. Then, "Am I invited to the wedding?"

That stunned Roxy. There was little love lost between her and Velma. Still, she was her mother. "Of course, Velma." Then she gave Velma details. They said goodbye pleasantly enough and hung up.

Hmmm. Had Velma reformed?

Not really. But so much had happened that even Velma was curious.

"Who was that, Velma?" her buff, naked, 52-year-old lover asked.

"Just a friend, Sweetie," the world's most beautiful, biggest-cocked, 72-year-old babe said. "Oh my! It looks like Mr. Happy's angry' again. Why don't you put him back in my pussy' where he belongs?"

Ralph or Joe or whatever his name was eagerly complied. Velma lay back and enjoyed being fucked as she processed all the family news. She smiled to herself. The Freeloves will go on.

Freelove is eternal.

Please tell me what you think at gingerfred2005@yahoo,com.

My other stories on nifty:

"Acting Up" transgender -- control "Panty Pleasures" transgender -- young friends "Woodville" transgender -- tv "Mothered" transgender -- control "Panty Town" transgender -- teen "Tradition" transgender -- teen "Punished" transgender -- high school "Panty Paradise" transgender -- teen "Kevin and Molly Go to Camp" -- transgender -- teen "Lovelife" -- transgender -- high school "My Three Sissies" -- transgender -- tv "Acting Out" -- transgender -- high school "Explorers" -- transgender -- high school "Pantied" -- transgender -- young friends "Rebuilding" -- transgender -- teen "The Au Pair" -- transgender -- surgery "Birthday Girl" -- transgender -- teen "Genes" -- transgender -- high school "Brothers in Panties" -- transgender -- teen "Coach" -- transgender -- control "Intervention" -- transgender -- high school "Winners" -- transgender -- teen "Teased" transgender -- high school "Irish Girls" transgender -- teen "Finished" -- transgender -- teen "Role Model" -- transgender -- high school "Freedom" -- transgender -- high school "Panty Fiesta" -- transgender -- control "Experiments" -- transgender college "One Fine Day" -- transgender -- teen "Stiff Resistance" -- transgender -- teen "Poker" -- transgender -- tv "Panty Sabbatical" -- transgender -- high school "Published" -- transgender -- tv "Stripped" -- transgender -- high school "Trained" -- transgender -- control "Something Better" -- transgender - tv "Fulfilled" -- transgender -- tv "Private Matters" -- transgender -- high school "Hard Times" -- transgender -- tv "Girl Nights" -- transgender -- control "Geography" -- transgender -- tv "Somewhere" -- transgender -- high school "Next Door Bride" -- transgender -- chemical (though I don't think it has chemicals) "Service" -- transgender -- tv "Test Driven" -- transgender -- tv "Sissy Stepmother" -- transgender -- tv "Slacker Moms" -- transgender -- tv "Sissies and the City" -- transgender -- tv "Paid in Full" -- transgender -- tv "Alternative Education" -- transgender -- control "The Boy Bride" -- transgender -- high school "Stiff Competition" -- transgender -- teen "Reservations" -- transgender -- tv "Panty Pride" -- transgender -- tv "The Panty Life" -- transgender -- tv "Super" -- transgender -- tv "Stocking Boys" -- transgender -- tv "Panty Secrets" -- transgender -- tv "Auntie's New Panties" -- transgender -- tv "Good Riddance" -- transgender -- tv