Going Home - Wedded Bliss

When semen stopped flowing and the sensations on my orgasm abated, I fell back against the headboard. Mike lifted her head, pushed her tongue into Gwen and sucked. Gwen went off again, shaking uncontrollably while pushing her sex into Mike's hungry mouth.

When Gwen's orgasm began to ebb, she collapsed onto Mike. Mike's head fell back, her face coated with a mix of Gwen's vaginal fluids and my semen. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep, was Gwen's cum-slicked vagina twitching and spasming on Mike's breasts.

It was mid-morning when I awoke. The ladies were already up. The enticing smell of coffee and bacon was wafting up the stairs and mixing with the scent of our night of unbridled sex. I pulled on a robe and headed for the bathroom.

When I arrived in the kitchen, breakfast preparations were just completed. Gwen and Mike had already eaten. They exchanged grins as they put a plate of bacon, eggs, home fries and toast in front of me followed by a glass of apple juice and a cup of coffee. I thanked them for the fantastic breakfast and reached for a fork. Mike slapped my hand.

'Oh, no. You just sit. You're not to move. We're going to feed you.' Mike told me. ///////////

Mike cut off a bit of egg with the fork and lifted it to my lips. Gwen stood behind me and ran her hands inside my robe and gently pinched my nipples. After I had swallowed my egg, Mike lifted the coffee to my mouth and gently tipped it so I could get a sip. She set the cup back down, and cupped her breast and pushed the nipple into my mouth. I sucked at it hungrily. When she pulled it away, Gwen swung around and sat on my lap. She opened her robe and pulled my head toward a breast. As I sucked on the offered nipple, she ground her covered sex against my now erect cock. Once she knew I was erect, she climbed off my lap and smiled at me.

While looking into my eyes, she said 'He's ready!'

I felt the robe lift off my legs and a warm, wet mouth engulf my cock. Mike had slid under the table and positioned herself to suck my cock as soon as Gwen had me hard. Gwen pulled my hands to my side.

'Don't move them,' she said with an evil grin.

Gwen fed me breakfast while Mike sucked my cock. I found if difficult to eat with Mike's talented mouth ministering to my erection. Somehow, Gen managed to get two eggs, bacon, coffee and juice down me while Mike licked, sucked, tickled, and stroked my cock and balls. Just when I thought I could take no more, she climbed from under the table. Before I could protest, Gwen straddled me and slowly lowered herself onto my cock. All I could do was revel in the ecstasy of her warmth.

Mike moved beside my chair and pulled my head to the side and pulled my head to her chest. She cupped a breast and offered the nipple to me. I took it between my lips and nibbled on it gently until it stood erect, distended and hard. Gwen rode my cock while I suckled Mike's nipple.

I ran my hand up Mike's leg and rubbed my palm between her legs. Mike spread her feet apart and grabbed my hand. She held it while I slowly worked two fingers inside her. Gwen picked up her pace on my cock. Mike held my wrist and guided my hand in and out of her, matching Gwen's pace and timing. Soon they were both whimpering. I heard a moan and quickly realized I was about to blow my load. I began to speak but Gwen drove down hard and rocked her hips as she came. I filled her with cum. Mike continued to guide my hand while rubbing her clit with her free hand. A sharp cry told me she had her own orgasm a moment or two later.

Once we all came back to earth, the ladies disentangled themselves and headed for the stairs.

'We're going to take a shower. You clean up the kitchen and then come up and join us.'

I washed the dishes in anticipation, wondering what was in store when I got upstairs. They were both freshly scrubbed and fully dressed when I got to the bedroom. //////////////

'Take a shower and get dressed,' Gwen told me. 'Mike still has some errands to run because yesterday's events forced her to come here early. We'll take her to run her errands. You're driving.'

We spent the afternoon together. Mike completed her errands, which consisted of a trip to the bank, the purchase of a trunk, and picking up her boarding pass for the trip Europe. We had an early dinner and returned to the house where we hit the bedroom early for another session of uncontrolled passion.

Mike dressed and headed for home before it got too late. Gwen and I enjoyed a quiet evening in front of the fire and then went to bed and slept.

Gwen and I spent a few more days in Boston. We spent a day with my father and Jane and the next morning picked them up their hotel and drove them to the airport for their flight back to Los Angeles.

While at the airport, I bought tickets to Los Angeles. It would allow us a few more days at the country house before returning to Pasadena. The rest of our time in Massachusetts was uneventful. Mostly spent with Gwen's parents or at the country house. Mike's ship left for Europe the day after my father flew to Los Angeles.

Gwen was nervous about flying. I was too, to be honest. But flying was much faster than the train and we'd get home early the second day. The flights were mostly uneventful. The cabin was chilly and the seats weren't particularly comfortable. The coffee was terrible. There was some turbulence on both flights but other than getting bounced around a bit, nothing scary happened.

I hadn't paid close attention to the flight schedule. We left in the afternoon and had a long layover in St. Louis that meant we arrived in Los Angeles in mid-afternoon. Pete picked us up with my car. I dropped him off at his apartment and then drove home.

When we pulled up to the house, old man Pollock was sitting on his porch. I tried to be neighborly and waved politely but he ignored me. The house looked pretty much like it had when we left. One of the high school kids down the block had agreed to cut the grass. It looked like it was time to cut it again. Gwen got out of the car and headed for the house. I opened the trunk and grabbed two suitcases. When I headed for the house, I saw Gwen was standing on the walkway, apparently staring at the front door. I wondered why she hadn't gone in the house.

When I caught up to her I saw it wasn't the front door she was staring at. The front porch was covered with dog turds. There was no way to get in the house without stepping in dog shit. I immediately suspected Pollock's dog because of the size of the turds and because he was the only person in Pasadena that I had a problem with. I turned around to look at Pollock but he was no longer on his porch.

Gwen looked at me and asked the obvious question. "What is wrong with that old bastard? Why does he hate us? Did we do something to him? Did you do something to him?'

I shrugged my shoulders. 'I can't think of a thing that warrants the way he treats us. All we can do is clean up. We'll never be able to prove it was him, or his dog.'

We went through the garage to the back yard and into the house. I changed out of my clothes into old clothes and got to the clean-up.

There was another turd on the porch the next morning. I stayed up late that night and sat watch. A little after midnight, Pollock's front door opened. Pollock's dog scurried across the street, up the walkway and onto my front porch. A few minutes later, he headed back across the street up Pollock's front steps. A moment later, the Pollock's front door opened briefly and closed. I resolved right then that, one way or another, this one-sided feud would come to an end. I just didn't know how. But first, I had to cure the dog of using my front porch as its personal toilet.

The next night, I set out a small, but fairly deep bowl with a dog biscuit in it. Pollock's dog stopped at the bowl and ate the biscuit before doing his business. I repeated this for several more nights so he came to expect the treat. Once he had modified his routine to my liking and on a night when the wind was blowing in the right direction, I poured a small amount of ammonia into the bowl instead putting in a dog biscuit. Pollock's dog went to the bowl and stuck his nose in it but quickly jumped back from the bowl. The ammonia had dulled his sense of smell. I was hidden behind some shrubbery that I had piled on the porch. When the dog squatted to take his dump, I used a sling shot to shoot a dried bean at his backside. I aimed a tiny bit too low. Instead of hitting his ass, the bean struck him in the scrotum. He let out a blood-curdling, high-pitched yelp and jumped about three feet straight up before he took off across the street at near the speed of sound and up onto Pollock's porch.

After a moment, the front door opened and closed. I sat there for a few minutes. Until I heard old man Pollock screaming at his dog. Apparently, this time when the dog took its nightly dump, it was in Pollock's house. Pollock came out onto his porch and glared over at my house. I stepped out from my hiding place and waved at him. I couldn't keep from grinning. He scowled and went back inside,

The next time I saw Pollock walking his dog, it stayed as far away from my house as it could get. It would take another couple of months, but my problems with old man Pollock would eventually come to an end.