FetLife
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SixChapter 11: Life Moves On free porn video
Perhaps the rota, and even the sex, was a mistake. It freed everything up somewhat. Girls no longer worried about appearing for breakfast in robes which weren’t securely tied.
Meeting a girl coming from the shower in her bra and knickers was not an unusual experience anymore. Martin tried to maintain standards. He always dressed properly outside the bedroom, and encouraged the girls to do the same; but they often just laughed now. “You’ve seen a lot more than the vague shape of a nipple under my bra.” said Sarah, which was undoubtedly true.
The Easter break was an experience. Martin asked if they wanted to go home. They had all agreed hat they could go home some weekends for visits. Martin had suggested that, now they were settled, parents could visit his home if they wanted, but the girls all unanimously voted that down. This was their escape, their cave; they indulged in things that would horrify the parents, especially the straitlaced ones. They didn’t want the overlap. They all enjoyed visits home, and were relieved to return.
It wasn’t that Martin was easy or easy going. He insisted on standards of cleanliness, and on them all doing their chores (which, with six of them, was not that onerous). He punished when necessary, and mostly the girls accepted that. Even Sarah had got used to the idea that spanking was not too demeaning. Sometimes he would spank them in the privacy of the bedroom, that inevitably moved over into sex – which was delightfully uncomfortable for the girl if her bottom was red; delightful, that is, for Martin as the girl squirmed against the stinging as his body bounced off her. Actually, they all found it was quite nice, they liked the dominance occasionally.
Other times, spanking was public. Like when Chris came in from school and dumped her bags and didn’t wash up and just lounged watching TV. When Martin got home, he reminded her that the rule was that bags were tidied away unless being used for homework, and that it was her turn to do the breakfast washing up. She complained, yet again, that the dish washer was easier. He pointed out it wasn’t her choice. The next minute she was across his lap, her school skirt lifted, and her large, school pants exposed. He slapped her ten times, got a massive erection (to the others’ amusement), and ended up fingering her bum under the pants. She wiggled, he pulled her to her feet and took her upstairs, bent her over and pulled her pants to one side. It took five minutes to get comfortable again. “No, you wear those pants for the rest of the evening. I don’t care if they are sticky ... or you wet yourself. Ha ha, well, I suggest you take off the skirt and wear your bathrobe then.” Spanking didn’t always end in sex, sometimes it was just done where the girl stood; job done, punishment over, moving on.
Everybody understood that Martin enjoyed spanking them; they had come to accept it, part of the deal. Mostly he was was fine. He had bad dreams, even now; but he also found, on nights when he slept alone, that he was having dreams of an erotic nature. He dreamed of two, three, even four girls coming home from school and having sex in their uniforms. It turned into a recurring dream, the dream of having sex with a schoolgirl. Martin wasn’t sure that was entirely appropriate, as young women they were associated with adulthood and grown-up consent; as schoolgirls they were associated with younger girls and paedophilia. He said something like that once. Two of the girls had suggested that the age of consent was, or should be, optional. That a girl that could say yes should be allowed to have sex, whatever age she was. He wanted to agree, but could see problems.
“Maybe there should be a test.”
“A sex test? Twenty questions to see if you know what cunnilingus is and would be happy with it?”
It was an interesting debate to have, and one that none of them would have had with their partners or family; but this household offered freedoms that they had not experienced before. Martin spoke in his head to Cheryl about it. Cheryl replied that he was a fucking pervert, and should fuck the little schoolgirls if it made him happy. He wasn’t sure that was Cheryl, it might have been him.
But he opted to assume a green light, and found an opportunity not long after. A meeting at school involved all the girls except Theresa staying on late. He got home early, waited for her. She knew immediately that he was looking for sex. He had been thinking about it all day. She asked if they should go upstairs and he said no, so she went to the kitchen cabinet to get out the coffee. Behind her, his body pushed against hers. “Can we do it here? Is that alright?” He asked. He was pushing at an open door. A story in ‘Hello Now’ that week had mentioned a woman being fucked on the kitchen table; Theresa had thought that sounded erotic. She nodded and felt his hot hands pulling her pants down just far enough, and his hot penis pushing against her body. What? Here? Standing up? He reached round, fingered her open quite roughly and made her lean a little forward. Then he was in and up and thrusting. It didn’t take long. And he was enormously grateful.
“You want me to arrange for other girls to be in the kitchen alone? Or in other rooms? I don’t mind. I’m sure they won’t.” She was lying on his bed after he had carried her upstairs, still in uniform except for her pants, and applied the vibrator to her until she came. He liked the girls to come too. Downstairs, the girls arrived back and found her pants on the floor in the kitchen, and guessed what that meant.
Avriella
- 02.04.2020
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