Oskar on His Path

Our little Oskar, that notorious little wanker, could hardly wait when he heard the shower door creak in the morning. His mom, that fucking, perversely generous pianist, grabbed his already half-stiff young cock with the firm, practiced hand of an experienced hooker. Her fingers, which otherwise moved the piano keys to tears, clamped down on his cock like a vise and jerked him off with an almost violent energy until his thick, warm cum splashed into the shower tray — not just once, no, that horny bitch jerked him off up to three times in a row. She acted as if she believed in that medieval nonsense — that you had to squeeze out the “old” semen so it wouldn’t start to rot and stink like a damn billy goat. Oskar, of course, saw right through this stupid excuse, but what was he supposed to do when Mom was working his cock so vigorously that he almost passed out from lust? He enjoyed every second of this perverted morning routine, during which his mother milked his balls dry while the stream of water lashed her plump tits.

His mom, that damn, perverted little muse brat, loved her Oskar with all her heart, but she was and always remained a shameless, lustful slut who did whatever she wanted, wherever and whenever she wanted. But with her little one, it was different — it was pure, unadulterated motherly love that drove her to work on his cock. By day, she was the highly respected, untouchable pianist whose touch on the keys sent the high society crowd into ecstasy. By night, however, she was an expensive, no-nonsense slut who would only let the richest pigs in town fill her fuck hole with cum. A fuck with her cost a fortune, and the guys had to dig deep into their wallets just to be allowed to shove their cocks into her wet, greedy pussy. Oskar, that little, horny voyeur, knew that, of course. He’d often lie in wait at night, his eye pressed against the little window, watching as some fat, old lecher fucked his mom like a piece of meat, kneading her tits and shoving his stinking dick up her ass. He’d jerk off his own cock while watching until he almost fell over from hornyness. But he found it even hotter when Mom was alone. Then she’d get out that huge rubber dildo — almost as thick as his forearm — and fuck herself into a frenzy. She’d moan and scream as she rammed the thing into her wet pussy until the juices were just running down her thighs. Sometimes she’d just do it with her fingers; her hand would work like crazy on her clit, and Oskar knew exactly when she came from her high-pitched, almost painful scream. But best of all, Oskar knew, was when a girlfriend came over to see her. Then he’d lie back at his little window and watch as the two of them licked each other’s pussies, their tongues deep inside the wet depths, until they both came, trembling and screaming. Mom seemed to love this lesbian play almost more than the occasional fuck with a rich gentleman, and Oskar couldn’t blame her at all, because it was simply the hottest sight he’d ever seen.

Of course, that damn perverted Mom — she just couldn’t resist telling her little boy the dirtiest details from her own fucked-up youth. Her own father, a notorious womanizer who left not a single hole in the village untouched, one day grabbed his two daughters — Irene, Oskar’s mom, and her twin sister Isolde — and dragged them into his large marital bed. Their mother was in the hospital again, and the old man was horny, so he grabbed the two girls — barely out of their teens — and deflowered them, one after the other, with brutal force. From that day on, he fucked both of them every damn night, even after Joylene, their mom, came home from the hospital. Poor Irene stood there with tears in her eyes, watching as her dad fucked her own sister and herself from behind like a pair of bitches, his stinking dick penetrating their still-tight, young holes over and over again. Of course, she understood him — this man had to fuck and cum; that was his law. Mom herself could hardly fuck anymore after all those damn surgeries; her hole had become almost useless. So the old man fucked both girls, every night, and his favorite game was to take them like animals, from behind, while he pulled their hair. Oskar listened to these stories spellbound, and when his mom told them like that, she was somewhere else, in another time; she dreamed of back then, and her hand jerked him off, angelic and yet so devilishly skilled. She jerked him off masterfully until his cum just spurted out, over and over, and she didn’t stop until her story had come to an end. Oskar loved these moments more than anything; the combination of his mom’s dirty secret and her horny hand on his cock was simply the best thing he knew.

Oskar, that clever little rascal, knew exactly how to provoke his mom into making ever newer, dirtier confessions. He squeezed it out of her like juice from an overripe, rotten fruit. That’s how he learned about the exploits of his grandfather, that notorious hole-fucker who left no neighbor's wife untouched. Not even the shyest, most faithful wife — who would otherwise never dare take a step beyond the threshold of her sacred marital fidelity — was safe from this fucking wolf. The old man came inside every one of those fuck holes, and he couldn’t care less how many bastards he sired in the process — as long as he could shoot his stinking cum into some warm hole. When he eventually lost his job and spent the whole day just loafing around, he finally had plenty of time. He went after the respectable wives and their teenage, often still innocent daughters, and once he had them, he fucked them, he fucked them with a grin until they no longer knew which way was up or down, their heads were spinning, and their minds were on the verge of collapse. His own mom, Oskar’s grandmother, had witnessed all of this time and again, and at the sight, she herself got as horny as yellow monkey shit. Every time the old man had taken one of them, she felt a burning between her legs that she couldn’t quench. And then — oh, then — Mom and her twin sister Isolde came into the picture. Every night, after the old man had fucked them both, they’d lie in bed — those two horny, fucked-up sisters — and jerk off until they dropped. Their fingers slid into their wet, freshly fucked holes; they licked each other’s clits until they screamed with lust and were out of their minds. That, Oskar now knew, was why Mom loved lesbian lovemaking so much — it was in her, this craving for a soft, wet tongue on her clit, which the old man had instilled in her.

Oskar, that curious little guy, couldn’t help himself — he just had to ask if it hadn’t disgusted her to be taken by her own dad, that old sex fiend. Mom just laughed, a dirty, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, my little one,” she replied, her hand slowly and deliberately jerking him off, “Isolde and I — we loved Dad’s fucking; we could hardly wait for him to come to bed at night and lay his hands on us. He had more experience than any other guy far and wide; he was a master, a true artist of fucking. He found the G-spot with an ease that made you shiver, and so he always won, every damn time. Many a faithful, shy wife, who’d been fucked her whole life only by her boring husband, had never once felt her own G-spot — and then he came along, Dad, and showed her heaven. They became addicted; they came again and again; they practically begged to be fucked by my Papa.” Mom looked Oskar straight in the eye; her eyes glowed with pride and an almost fanatical adoration. “Dad wasn’t just a pig — no, my little one — he was the best fucker this town has ever seen, and I’m proud to have been one of his many students.” Her hand moved faster, firmer, and Oskar felt the juice boiling in his balls, ready to give his mom another load of his pride.

When Oskar turned twelve, he was boiling with desire; his cock was constantly hard — hard and relentless — and he couldn’t stand just being jerked off anymore. He asked his mom, directly and without beating around the bush, if instead of just jerking him off, she’d rather fuck him — really fuck him, with him coming deep inside her? Mom became very pensive; her eyes slid over his body, over his hard cock, and she nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right,” she said in a hoarse voice. “You’re a real teenager now, and a teenager just has to fuck. I get that, and it’s okay. But only on the condition that I jerk off the ‘old’ cum out of you first; then you can fuck me from behind, just like dogs do. Is that okay?” And how okay that was! Oskar’s heart was pounding with excitement. So that’s what they did. Mom jerked him off for two or three rounds until his “old” cum was splattered all over the shower tray and his cock was hard and ready again. Then she bent over deeply until her fingertips touched her toes, offering him her magnificent, plump ass. Between her butt cheeks, he could see her neatly trimmed bush and, right in the middle of it, her fuck hole. The hole he himself had crawled out of as a baby. At first he was very awestruck; his heart was pounding in his throat, and he slid his cock millimeter by millimeter into Mom’s pussy, which clung to him, warm, wet, and infinitely willing. But she encouraged him; her voice was a soft moan, and she told him when and how to pick up the pace. When she was getting close, when her body trembled, she placed a finger on her clit and rubbed herself gently, in time with his thrusts. But when he was about to cum, when his cum surged up inside him, her finger raced away, rubbing like she’d lost her mind, because she wanted to orgasm at the very moment he shot his load into her pussy. The “fresh” semen, as she confirmed to him afterward with a grin — her son’s semen — deep inside her pussy.

It was a wonderful, damn time, a paradise of dicks and cum. Every morning, every goddamn morning, he fucked his mom good and hard, deep and hard, and quite often a second time right away, until they were both standing there trembling and wet in the steam. But Oskar, that insatiable boy, wanted more. He whispered it in her ear while his cum was still drying on her thighs: he’d slip under the covers with her at night, when Dad was already fast asleep; he wanted to fuck her in the marital bed, in the bed of this man who ignored her during the day. At first, Mom hesitated; her heart was pounding in her throat, and she whispered back, “If Dad catches us, he’ll tear our heads off — he’ll kill us!” But Oskar promised to be very quiet — quieter than a mouse — and Daddy wouldn’t notice a thing; that drunkard was sound asleep anyway. So one night he crept over to Mom, who was lying in bed stroking her clit because Daddy was already fast asleep beside her. Oskar could really be silent — a shadow — and now he fucked Mom at night in their marital bed, while she rubbed her clit, her fingers circling the small, hard bud. Mom moaned softly, her body twitched, and she told him later how incredibly wonderful it was when he fucked her while she was masturbating — it intensified her feelings a thousandfold; it was as if a fire had been kindled inside her that only an orgasm could extinguish.

Of course, Dad sometimes woke up at night — his sleep was light and restless because of the alcohol — and his gaze fell on the shaking bed, on the moving blanket beneath which his son was fucking his wife. He stared at it for a while, his eyes half-closed, but then immediately turned back over and went back to sleep. Or — and this was the most perverse thing Oskar had ever experienced — he would murmur sleepily, his voice a hoarse croak: “Go ahead and fuck her good, that pianist slut — give it to her good, my boy!” Oskar froze every time he heard those words; his heart raced, but he kept jerking off and fucking. Now he knew that Dad wasn’t going to tear his head off. On the contrary, in his half-asleep mumbling, he was giving Oskar the green light to fuck his mom — that highly esteemed pianist slut — good and hard. And Mom — she was silent and still, suppressing every sound as she jerked off and fucked, her face contorted into a smile of concentration. Only her beautiful, long legs twitched uncontrollably when she came; her whole body trembled, but not a sound escaped her throat as her son shot his “fresh” cum deep into her pussy.

Mom’s youngest sister, Mitzi, had gotten married, but her husband — that nasty, weakling of a guy — wasn’t much of a lover. That was no surprise, since that creep was fucking his apprentice during the day — that underage, totally depraved girl who drained him of all his juice, that little horny witch. So Mitzi, desperate and unsatisfied, went to her older sister Irene — Oskar’s mom — to seek advice. But what she saw there took her breath away. She stood there wide-eyed, watching as Oskar fucked his mom from behind in the shower stall, his firm ass moving back and forth while Mom leaned against the wall, moaning. It didn’t take long before she was begging her sister, her eyes full of tears and lust — she wanted Oskar to fuck her, too. Mom was hesitant at first, her brow furrowed, but then she nodded gently, a dirty smile on her lips. “Oskar, give her a good one, because her Heinzi is a weakling and doesn’t even have a dick half as big as yours. Do it so she forgets her own name — fuck her good and don’t disgrace me, my boy!” Oskar nodded and obeyed; his cock was already standing at attention. Mitzi’s pussy was tighter than Mom’s — she hadn’t given birth yet — and it wrapped around his cock like a second skin. And Mitzi squealed and screamed, letting him fuck her in doggy style over and over again, her body twitching with each of his thrusts. Mom only allowed it in doggy style — for whatever reason, perhaps as a final, perverse reminder of her youth. Oskar was ecstatic; now he had both sisters to fuck — Mom and Mitzi. And Mitzi, that greedy slut, loved getting fucked so much that she almost fainted during her orgasm, her body a trembling, horny mess.

Oskar now had two women he could fuck — Mom and Aunt Mitzi — but so as not to disturb Mom while she was practicing the piano, he went down to the third floor, where Ludmilla lived. She was already ancient, her skin a map of wrinkles, but she had been a Primadonna at the State Opera — a hot, sought-after stunner back in the day; every man wanted her, and many of them got her, too. He often sat next to Ludmilla’s wheelchair while she showed him her photo albums — those thick books. Oh, there were hundreds of nude photos of the coveted dancer — hundreds of pictures where you could see not only her magnificent, still firm breasts but also her pussy slit, often open, wet, and inviting. And in some of the pictures, Oskar’s alert, young eyes even spotted the little clit, peeking out boldly and cheekily like a red cherry on a cake. Then there were even more — hundreds more pictures — that Ludmilla only showed him after a long hesitation and a conspiratorial nod. Pictures of her being fucked by hundreds of men — stagehands, nobles, rich pigs. Ludmilla would only let herself be fucked if she got a photo, a memento of her conquerors. And she sighed as she told stories about the great men — kings, dukes, and presidents — who stuck their cocks in Ludmilla’s fuck hole and, of course, were allowed to cum inside her, because Ludmilla wasn’t a prude; she was a cock collector. It had all started quite innocently — he’d run errands for Ludmilla, carry her old shopping bags up the stairs, and then he’d be allowed to admire her nude photos. Ludmilla was a really great buddy — even though she must have been at least 200 years old, her mind was still sharp and her lust unsatisfied.

So Ludmilla, that old, sharp-eyed bitch, naturally noticed right away the obvious bulge in Oskar’s pants, which was impossible to miss. She asked him bluntly, without beating around the bush, if he’d like to fuck her — she’d do it for free, in exchange for the groceries. A deal, a quid pro quo — a simple, damn transaction. Oskar’s ears turned bright red; his face flushed deep crimson. “But Ludmilla, you’re quite old — I’d never dare do that. I have great respect for old age!” Ludmilla laughed loudly and crudely, a cackle that sounded like the squeaking of old doors. “What kind of comedian are you!? I’m a woman — and I used to be a girl. I still have a cunt — a fine, greedy little cunt that’s still willing. And then you come along and ramble on about old age!? What a load of nonsense! Yeah, of course you have to be careful not to break all my bones, but you can fuck me just like you fucked your girls in school!” Oskar muttered, embarrassed, “Those stupid geese — they scream ‘fire’ and ‘murder’ if I just slip a finger under the hem of their panties. So, forget about ‘my girls’ — there aren’t any, dear Ludmilla!”

And so it happened that Oskar lifted Ludmilla out of her wheelchair — this feather-light woman who weighed hardly more than a sack full of bones — and carried her to her bed. She simply lifted her skirt and pushed her wrinkled, old panties aside — no, she didn’t want to undress completely; there was nothing exciting left to see, only the memory of past splendor. She invited Oskar to kneel between her thin, parchment-like thighs and slide his cock into her fuck hole. No, he wasn’t allowed to lie on top of her — it was enough for him to slide his cock into her fuck hole; she could no longer bear the weight of a young man. “Oh, my God!” Ludmilla cried out when she saw Oskar’s cock; her eyes widened in astonishment and pure lust. “My boy, you have a magnificent, huge cock like hardly any other man I’ve ever had! Come and fuck me — I don’t want to miss out on this pleasure! And yes, feel free to take a few photos with your cell phone — it turns me on!” So Oskar took a few photos while they were fucking; his thick, young cock, buried deep in Ludmilla’s withered but still wet hole, what a striking contrast. Ludmilla triggered her own orgasm with her deft finger on her clit just as he came, panting; her old body twitched beneath him — a final burst of pleasure. So he started coming by often to do Ludmilla’s shopping and to fuck the good old lady. Because it actually felt pretty good to fuck her — her hole was tight and surprisingly willing. Before long, he forgot that she might already be 200 years old — her pussy certainly wasn’t; it wanted to be fucked by his thick, fat cock as often as he wanted, a greedy old slut who couldn’t get enough.

Of course, Oskar didn’t tell anyone that he was fucking the old, former Primaballerina. They would have declared him crazy and locked him up in the loony bin, truly! A young, virile stallion mounting an old, bony mare — that would be too much for narrow-minded bourgeois morality. But Oskar had other secrets, other, much younger and fresher adventures. At the Boy Scouts summer camp, he’d met Lea, who was about two years younger — that pretty little thing with the lively eyes. They shared a tent, and on those dark, sultry nights, when the others were asleep, they fondled each other, their hands searching and finding. Fourteen-year-old Lea was great at jerking off a dick; she’d learned it at home, where she helped her dad out almost every night, making his lonely nights more bearable. And Lea promised to get the pill by the next camp; Oskar was supposed to be her first, the first to really take her, not just with his fingers. She really liked Oskar because he was one of the few boys who could bring her to orgasm by rubbing her clit; he knew how to find the right pressure, the right rhythm. And she loved being rubbed so much that sweat would pour down her forehead in streams. Of course, she told him everything — even about her mom, the dirty secrets that happened in her parents’ bedroom — and Oskar listened with bated breath, his mind a sponge soaking up everything she whispered to him.

Lea giggled as she gently jerked off Oskar’s cock, her fingers dancing over his balls, and she told him the dirty secrets of her home. She said she’d always slept in the big double bed between her parents, a cozy little nest nestled between their two sweaty bodies. Her parents weren’t shy about fucking in front of their little girl; they moaned and screamed, and the child saw it all. And Mom, that perverse yet kind soul, showed her Lea how a girl does it with her finger; she guided her hand to the right spot, taught her the right rhythm, until Lea trembled and gasped. She did it every night, once her parents were done fucking or jerking off; her little nest was a theater of pure lust. But now Mom wanted to let Dad fuck her less and less often. Because now her relatives came every morning — that horde of horny pigs — to fuck the sexy, gorgeous Mom. Usually only one would come, sometimes two or three, who would then take turns. Her brothers, uncles, and nephews — and even her old man, Dad, who was rarely allowed to fuck her as a child, only when Mom felt particularly generous. Lea’s Mom could do anything except say no — she was too good, too willing — and so she was the fuck hole for the whole family, the hole into which they all came, their shame and their triumph. Lea said Mom cursed the fact that she looked so beautiful, desirable, and “fuckable” — a curse that haunted her every day. That was why she rarely, if ever, fucked Dad anymore; she was too full, too worn out. She patiently taught Lea how to jerk off Dad’s cock and make him cum, and Lea did it, always after she’d jerked herself off first, because watching her made Dad so insanely horny — his cock stood at attention. And Lea loved jerking off her dad’s cock and making him cum — it was her little, dirty power. Dad couldn’t do anything to stop the relatives from coming over and wanting to fuck his gorgeous, horny wife; he was nothing more than a spectator in his own home.

Lea said her mom was especially disappointed in her old man, deeply and painfully so. When she was still a child — a little, innocent thing — her strict mom rarely allowed her dad to fuck the little girl. It was always meant as a reward for him — when he was good, when he obeyed — only then would her mom be so generous as to let her daughter spread her thighs. And her dad would always fuck her two or three times in a row, because once her mom was being so generous and letting him, he couldn’t stop — he’d pounce on her like a hungry lion. As a girl, she had always loved fucking her dad; he was so greedy, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth when he looked at his little daughter before fucking her, his eyes full of animalistic lust. He panted like a little dog, then lay down between his child’s willingly parted thighs. Mom’s eyes glistened — perhaps with tears, perhaps with her own perverse excitement — but she let the fucking happen with a smile. And the little girl loved it very much — being fucked by her dad until she passed out, his weight on top of her, his moans in her ear. And today? Daddy was completely changed, a different man. He came, like the others, just to squirt inside — a quick, mechanical act. He, too, was completely indifferent to whether she enjoyed the sex or not, whether she moaned or just lay there like a board. No one was there to mess around or dawdle; they’d come to cum inside pretty, gorgeous Mom’s hole, and then they’d leave, leaving nothing but a sticky mess and an empty feeling.

Lea sighed softly, her fingers still feeling the imprint of Oskar’s cock, and her voice dropped to a quiet whisper as she told them about Agnes, that strange old woman they knew from the Girl Scouts’ summer camp. Agnes, that former nun who hadn’t seen a man in fifty years and now sold rare herbs at the market on Saturdays, a lonely figure in black clothes. But Oskar knew more. He knew about Agnes, who, after forty years of abstinence, had suddenly rediscovered what it meant to be desired. He told Lea about the afternoons in Agnes’s small house, which smelled of herbs, how she drew out his youth and his strength from beneath her wide, black skirts. Agnes, who could no longer keep her hands off him, who worshipped him like a saint who had awakened her from her long slumber. Lea listened with her mouth agape; her own little, perverse world expanded to include this story of a nun and a young man — a story so unbelievable and yet so true. And they decided to visit Agnes the next time they went to the market — not just to buy herbs, but to see if the fire that Oskar had kindled in her still burned in this old woman’s eyes.

Lea was right there, her eyes sparkling with perverse anticipation, as the two of them seduced old Agnes into having sex. Old Agnes, whose soul had already seen so much, seemed to break as she told the story of her childhood. As a child, she had been fucked regularly by her dad — a dirty, secret ritual in the dark. But it didn’t stop there. Her parents, alcoholics — those damned, greedy pigs — staged gang bangs, with her mom and Agnes as the gang-bang queens. Agnes shuddered at the memory; her body twitched. It was disgusting to be fucked by a pack of sex-crazed men until dawn — a hole for each one, a toy for their perverse desires. Together with a friend, Yvonne, she had run away at 16; they fled this hell and found refuge in a convent. They spent the first four years as novices, and it was a paradox, because they were required to live neither chastely nor abstinently. The Mother Superior was over the moon; she offered her pretty little novices to the clergy, and they all came — the bishop, the abbot, and many other clergymen. But having sex with these men was a blessing. The men respected the novices as human beings, as free individuals, and fucked them gently and chastely, like husbands, with tenderness and an almost sacred devotion. Agnes soon forgot the greedy, dirty fucking back home; she now loved being fucked so gently, respectfully, and downright lovingly. Four years later, she took her vows and didn’t have sex with a single man for the next 50 years — not even as an exception; her body became a temple once again, which she kept locked away. But the new Mother Superior — a jealous, sanctimonious bitch — kicked her out when she found out that Agnes was having a lesbian affair with the famous pianist Irene, Oskar’s mom. Agnes, now a former nun, grew very rare medicinal herbs and sold them at the market. Lea and Oskar were staying with her for a week, and of course they had sex right in front of Agnes — both a provocation and a celebration. Lea stroked Agnes’ clit and licked her to orgasm — a wave of pleasure she hadn’t felt in a long time. Almost reluctantly, Agnes let Oskar fuck her — the first man in 50 years — a shock and a release all at once.

Lea smiled — a dirty, knowing smile — her eyes gleaming with the memory. “I admired you so much for ordering Agnes to bathe and put on a light perfume before lying down with you, because you wanted to really fuck her every day until she lost all sense of hearing and sight.” Her voice was a soft whisper as she recounted Oskar’s show of power. “First, I licked her clit to orgasm; my tongue danced on her old but still sensitive bud until she trembled and moaned like a young girl. Then it was your turn; you pounded her like a rough coachman or a muscular stable boy, your thrusts hard and relentless. Agnes really enjoyed it — she almost melted away with pleasure and ecstasy, her body rippling in wave after wave. I admired you — how well you took care of that old girl; there wasn’t a dry eye in the house! I saw how she longed for your cock, how she longed for your youth, and you gave her what she needed, what she deserved.”

Lea asked him how he’d managed to seduce her mom, Jenny. She’d just woken up from the noises and had seen him really pounding her mom — and that her mom was completely swept away by lust and desire. Oskar scratched his head, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “Actually,” he said quietly, “I just had to give your mom a little nudge — she’d come up here to get fucked by me. She was wearing nothing but a sheer, see-through veil when she came upstairs to wake us late sleepers. Her eyes went wide when she saw me working on my morning hard-on. She asked me what was going on with Mom, and I told her the truth. That really turned her on — the fact that Mom jerks me off in the morning and I fuck her afterward. She asked if she could jerk me off, and I let her. She jerked me off — yeah, your mom’s a pro at it; she’s definitely not a first-timer. Then she looked at me wide-eyed and asked, “So what about fucking?” I told her to lie on her stomach and I’d fuck her from behind like dogs do. I saw a sparkle in her eyes, and I thought I’d found the key. So I spun her a tall tale: my 11-year-old niece Amalie was a real little slut; she’d let our male Labrador mount her, fuck her, and cum inside her. I embellished the story, adding that I’d then mount the little girl and fuck her from behind too — and that she really liked that. That was the key; your mom went off on it like a rocket, and I grinned at my successful prank.” Lea furrowed her brow, her eyes narrowing. “There’s something else you’re keeping from me, you rascal!”

Oskar took Lea in his arms; his grin widened, becoming almost mischievous. “Of course,” he whispered, his voice a secret promise, “that whole thing about Amalie was a complete fabrication. There’s no way that little girl would let a dog fuck her — or even me — for God’s sake, that would be perverted!” He laughed softly. “She just let me show her how to rub Rex’s cock — our Labrador — to make him cum. Amalia clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with amazement, as Rex shot his load into the air. ‘He cums just like Daddy does on Saturday mornings,’ she cried, ‘when he jerks off in front of the bathroom mirror and cums into the washbasin!’” Oskar looked deep into Lea’s eyes. “Of course I asked her about it. Yes, she’s allowed to watch Daddy jerk off in front of the bathroom mirror, and then he cums into the washbasin. Dad had shown her how to rub her little clit with her finger, and he’d always look at her when they were both rubbing off at the same time — a dirty little complicity. And Dad said that next year, when she’s 12, he’ll take her into the marital bed as his second wife, his little wifey and fuck her right after Mom, just as it should be. That’s how it became clear to me why Amalia always wants Rex to cum. She’s practicing — that little perverted minx — she’s practicing for her dad.”

Lea looked intently into his eyes; her gaze pierced his soul. She sensed there was more to it — one last, sordid truth. “There’s something else, Oskar. Tell me!” Oskar scratched his head; his expression grew serious, almost conspiratorial. “It’s actually Mom’s secret, not mine. But screw it, I’ll tell you!” He took a deep breath. “Mom smuggled Rex in from Cornwall as a puppy — that magnificent, lustful male Labrador. And she’s been training him to fuck for years — a secret game just for the two of them. So Mom sits at the piano and practices for hours, her fingers dancing across the keys, but Rex — he’s got other things on his mind. He sneaks up, rests his wet snout on Mom’s lap, and whines in the highest, horniest tones. Mama knows right away that the guy wants to fuck — his desire is impossible to miss. Without hesitation, she pulls her dress over her head and gets down on all fours, like a bitch in heat. Rex mounts her from behind, fucking her at breakneck speed, his paws on her hips, his panting an echo of her own. He cums inside her, deep and greedily. Mom lets his cock stay inside her for a while, until the balloon at the tip of his cock deflates — a moment of connection before he pulls away from her. Mom doesn’t care if I’m there; she has no secrets from me in this regard — I see everything. So that’s Mom’s secret, but I didn’t want to tell your mom about it because it’s Mom’s secret and her private affair — a sacred, perverse act.”

Lea’s eyes were wide as saucers, almost popping out of their sockets, and her mouth hung open in disbelief. Of course she knew Irene, Oskar’s mom, that highly regarded pianist whose playing sent the high society crowd into ecstasy. She knew that Irene would only let herself be fucked for a huge chunk of money — a sinfully expensive, no-holds-barred slut — and that she had many pleasurable lesbian affairs, her tongue deep in the wet cunts of other women. But the fact that she lets her dog fuck her — well, that really blows your mind, a shock that took her breath away. “Don’t tell me she’s screaming with pleasure!” she stammered, her imagination running wild. Oskar shook his head, his face a mask of composure. “Oh, no, it happens so fast that she wouldn’t have time to get turned on. It’s a quick, mechanical act — like an animal relieving itself. I think for her it’s a kind of perverse pastime, a little dirty diversion from practicing the piano and those expensive fuckers — a little sin she allows herself because no one’s watching. Or almost no one.”

Lea looked at him, her expression a mixture of curiosity and conspiracy. “Oskar, I have a favor to ask — you’ll have to tell me whether you’ll do it or not.” Her voice was a soft whisper as she told him about her little girlfriend, Erni, with whom she sometimes had a little girl-on-girl sex. “Now she wants her dad to fuck her, but he refuses to deflower his own daughter and hurt her. Well, just like I used to, she lies between her parents in their marriage bed; she watches with wide eyes as her parents fuck and jerk off. Her mom, a nude model, isn’t any help to her. ‘You heard what Dad said. Well, if you weren’t a virgin anymore, he’d surely fuck you — that bastard; he fucks anything with two legs that doesn’t run away.” So Erni came to me and asked if you’d deflower her, maybe?” Oskar pretended to be thinking God knows how hard, his brow furrowed, and Lea gave him a slap on the butt — a smacking, teasing slap. “So? Can I bring Erni over this afternoon or not?” Oskar looked at her amusedly, a lecherous smile on his lips. “First give her a bath, put some perfume on her, and then bring her to me — those are the rules in this brothel!” Lea laughed; her laughter was like music. And she came back with Erni that afternoon.

Erni wasn't a beauty like Lea — she had a few pimples on her face, big, thick glasses, and a chubby little girl's body with plenty of baby fat. But the 14-year-old's eyes spoke volumes about what she so desperately wanted — a burning desire. Lea went into the shower with her and laid the girl — fragrant and clean — down next to him. He smiled. “Erni, sweetheart, have you really thought this through? Because once your hymen is broken, there’s no going back.” Erni placed her hand on his chest; her hand trembled with excitement. “I want it, Ossi, I really want it. Because then Daddy will fuck me, and that — exactly that — is what I want more than anything.” Oskar moved between her chubby thighs into position. Erni’s pussy was wet and slippery; he didn’t need any saliva — her body was already ready. He took her virginity gently and carefully, his cock slowly pushing in until the hymen tore. Erni winced as her hymen tore — a brief, sharp pain — but then it was over. Oskar fucked her for about 10 minutes; his thrusts were rhythmic and deep, then he shot his full load inside her, his cum filling her up. Erni beamed like a polished gold coin, “Thank you, Ossi, thank you!” her voice a happy squeak. Then the three of them sat side by side and smoked a peace pipe; the smoke rose slowly toward the ceiling. Erni dug out her cell phone and showed them hundreds of nude photos and videos of her parents. Her mom was truly a beauty, as Oskar could see — a goddess of flesh and blood and sex. Her dad had a crooked, banana-shaped cock, but that wasn’t a drawback — more of a unique feature. Silent and breathless, they watched videos of her parents fucking, her mom jerking off her clit, and also jerking off her dad until he came — an intimate, dirty show. “All of this is open to me now. Dad will have to fuck me now — there’s no obstacle left!” Erni exclaimed. She was very happy and cheerful, for she had opened the door to the next chapter of her life. She and Lea agreed that she should start taking the pill right away, even though she hadn’t had her period yet — a cautious, wise decision.

After she left, Lea snuggled up to him, her body warm and soft. “You’re my hero, my lion, my stud bull, Oskar!” she whispered, and it was probably the nicest compliment he’d ever received.