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All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old

*****

“My birthday was just last month, Mr. Engel,” Clementine announced proudly, “I am 18 years old! How old are you?”

“Clemmy!” Exclaimed Daphne, aghast at the abrupt personal inquiry by her young sister.

“Your mother’s right, Darling,” followed Mitch McFee, quickly, “That is an impertinent question anytime, but particularly with a total stranger.

“No, no, no,” Royce Engel interrupted, “Really, I don’t mind.” He put down the homemade biscuit he was about to bite and looked across the pine-slab table at the beautiful impetuous teenager. “I turned 30 last April 6th, Clementine.” He smiled and added, as an aside, hoping to shift the conversation away from chastisement, “I am an Aries. Do you know anything about astrology?”

Clementine laughed. “Yes, I do.” She said, puffing up her chest and expounding. “You are a Ram. I don’t think there’s much to it, though… Momma is Pisces, A Fish, but she doesn’t like to eat trout. Poppa is Aquarius, The Water Bearer, but I am always the one who fetches from the river or the well. I’m Gemini, The Twins, but as you see I am an only child. My grandma was Capricorn, but I never knew her, so you’d have to ask Momma or Poppa if she liked goats.” Clementine’s bust rose and fell rapidly in her excited commentary. Royce was transfixed by the motion beneath her creamy homespun, scoop necked shift.

Mitch chuckled and interjected, “No, Grandma Leanne hated goats… or, more particularly, she hated ‘Old Goats’!” He winked his right eye, out of Clementine’s view, as he amended his statement. “She had a couple of them chase her before she ran off with me and got married.” He laughed aloud as he remembered Leanne complaining to him about her Uncle Fred, and his buddy, who tried to corner her at a family Christmas party. Leanne had to knee Fred in the groin to get her message across but, after that they both left her alone.

Royce and Daphne were also laughing as the dinner table conversation immediately lightened and Clementine’s perceived rudeness was all but forgotten. “I don’t think there’s supposed to be a connection with the actual names of the signs, honey,” Daphne opined. “I think they are somehow connected to constellations we sometimes can see in the night sky… Remember how I showed you the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt?”

“I think you are right about that, Daphne,” Royce agreed, “But, Clementine, I must disagree with your conclusion.” He continued his gentle argument. “In my experience, although I am no astrologer, I definitely see personal differences between folks born in different months and similarities among those born in the same month.” He smiled to make sure the young girl across from him knew he was not chiding. “Also, I think there is a decided compatibility factor, although I see no reason why anyone can’t be compatible with anyone else, given enough time and patience.” He looked left and right to Mitch and Daphne as he continued. “For instance, YOUR sign is Gemini, Clementine, which is one of three signs astrologers group under ‘Air.’ Your dad, Aquarius, is also an ‘Air’ sign. Mine is Aries, and my group of three signs is ‘Fire.’ Your mom, a Pisces, is a ‘Water’ sign. The fourth group, ‘Earth’ signs, is not represented at the table here, but your Grandma Leanne, a Capricorn, was one of them.”

“So, what does that all mean, Mr. Engel?” Clementine asked impatiently.

Daphne reached out her right hand and patted Clementine’s left arm while Royce continued. “Well, same group signs have lots in common, so they are naturally very compatible. You get along pretty well with your dad, don’t you?”

“Oh, YES!” Clementine bounced in her seat and her tits bounced in her dress. She extended her right hand and scratched her fingernails on Mitch’s forearm before she clamped down through his work shirt sleeve and seized his corded extensor muscles. “Poppa and I get along just GREAT!”

“And that’s not all. Air signs have a high degree of attraction to both Earth and Fire,” Royce added, with a nod to Mitch. “Which means your father and I, or you and I, have natural common ground, too.”

“So Poppa and Grandma were compatible,” deduced Clementine, with a frown followed by a sad face look at her mother. “But what about Momma? She’s a Water sign… isn’t she compatible with anyone?” Clementine pulled her hand away from Mitch and scooted closer to Daphne, laying her right hand on top of her mother’s, which still rested on Clementine’s left arm. “I LOVE Momma and I never thought we were not ‘compatible’ before…” Her voice trailed off with a pout and downcast eyes.

“Ohh, No!” Engel bostancı escort quickly assured the sensitive girl. “Don’t you remember I said ‘anyone is compatible with anyone given enough time and patience’? So, even though there may not be an automatic connection between, say Pisces and Gemini or Aquarius, we must remember you are all blood family… Daphne has been your loving mother for your whole life… and of course, the same thing goes for your mom and dad…” Royce paused, realizing he had, inadvertently, underscored and laid bare the incestuous relationship between Mitch and Daphne, which may have been hitherto tacitly denied. He had not once heard the term ‘sister’ spoken aloud by any of the family members and Clementine had expressly referred to herself as ‘an only child.’ Hurrying along, with high hopes of by-passing his gaffe before it registered, he concluded, “The bottom line, Clementine, is people are people and labels make for easy sorting and recognition but NOT for forming interpersonal relationships… Individuals make individual decisions. Right?”

Clementine looked up from the table and beamed a bright grin at Royce and then at Daphne and Mitch. “Oh, YES!” She agreed emphatically. “I think that makes WONDERFUL sense! Don’t YOU, Momma? Poppa?”

Royce noticed Mitch exhale a stifled sigh of relief before he said, “Yes, Darling, very sensible. And speaking of sensible, let’s clear the table and get our baths. It’s growing late.” Mitch clapped his hands and stood. “Royce, let’s finish our conversation and let the gals have a free hand with the supper clutter.”

Even though it was July, Royce noticed, now that the sun had set, that there was a dank chill in the cabin from the adjoining cavern. He was glad for the kerosene lanterns and for the heat, as well as the light, put out by the fire Mitch had lit in on the hearth in the main room. They stood by the mantel sipping a ‘taste of corn’ which Mitch had poured for them from a large crockery jug. “So, Royce… I asked you a question before Daphne called us to supper… What do you think about my idea? Can you stay for a couple of days?”

Royce finished his whiskey and set the glass down. He had had no notion of what to expect when he rode out to find Mitch McFee and help him implement the first stage of his legacy for his daughter, Clementine, and he certainly had never thought about any dalliance with a client’s daughter, yet here he was, drinking whiskey and fantasizing about fucking both Clementine and Daphne. “Uh, sure, Mitch… When I said I had to get going, I didn’t mean I couldn’t stick around for a couple of days… I’m still not clear on what additional ‘training’ you mean, or how I can help, but… hey! You are the legator and anything you want or need me to do to make things work, I will.”

“Ha!” Mitch snorted and smacked his shot glass on the mantel. “If ‘legator’ means I’m the one who says what goes, then I agree!” He clapped Royce hard on the back and said, “Come on, son, let’s get to work.” Mitch turned from the fireplace and called into the kitchen, “You all about ready? Royce and I are heading for the pools.”

“Be right with you!” Daphne answered. “Clemmy and I are practically finished here.”

Royce followed Mitch’s swinging lantern light down a dark passageway. He tripped, or slipped, on a stone and lurched against the rough cold rock wall, catching himself before falling. Mitch heard the tumble and turned, holding the light high. “Watch yourself, Royce. The hall is uneven. I guess we’re so used to it I didn’t think to warn you… Sorry about that!” He turned and resumed leading the way with Engel following, more careful of his footing. After a few more yards, the tube opened out onto a large pocket with a high ceiling and three pools of steaming water. The vapors had a strong pungent smell Royce could not identify, but, after a brief time, olfactory fatigue set in and he did not notice the odor.

Mitch stripped quickly and stepped into the nearest, and largest, mineral pond. “AAAhhhhhh…” he sighed as he sat down and the water covered him to his chin. “Don’t be shy, son, take off your clothes and pick a spot… Any one of these pools is great for cleanin’ or relaxin’… but I’ll tell, you that itty-bitty one, over there, is quite a bit hotter than these other two… but, it’s still comfortable.”

Royce hesitated and then shrugged. “‘When in Rome,'” he muttered as he pulled off his boots, dropped his pants and removed his shirt.

“‘Rome’? You’re in Colorado, Royce…” Mitch chuckled, then added, “Don’t forget your socks and drawers. We don’t put anything but our skin and hair in ümraniye escort bayan these waters.”

Royce gave Mitch a chagrined look and finished pulling off his underclothes before quickly stepping into the second, slightly smaller, pool. He gingerly pushed his feet around. The bottom was quite smooth and not treacherous. The temperature was warm and soothing and he sat, without further reluctance, grinning at McFee. “You are so right about ‘relaxing’, Mitch… I feel the day’s cares just floating away.” He lay his head on a rock shelf and closed his eyes while small bubbles burped their way to the surface from the venting fissures.

Mitch just smiled back and said nothing, enjoying the sensation of the hot mineral soak. Soon they heard echoing giggles as Daphne and Clementine approached through the hall. “Can I scrub Mr. Engel, Momma?” Clementine’s voice projected into the cavern from the tunnel even before the girls showed up.

Daphne carried a lantern to a spike across the waters from Mitch’s light. The glimmering shiny walls and the reflections of the pools produced bright flashes which failed to do anything but accent the shadowed nudity of the women. Royce flushed with unexpected embarrassment at his immediate submerged erection and gaped open mouthed. He already had had a preview of Clementine’s full breasts with their pink-brown areolae and semi-inverted nipples. He was unprepared for the merest pale flaxen fuzz spreading lightly above her puffy plump pussy lips. His tongue tip traced his lower lip as he imagined licking his way up to her hidden clitty.

Daphne, only seven years senior to Royce, was very much in the prime of her mature physicality. Her breasts were no less full, or beautiful, than Clementine’s, though, as the two women stood side by side, it was apparent Clementine’s bosom was more upright and Daphne’s tits were closer spaced. Daphne’s torso tapered to a slim waist and flat tummy above a wider pair of hips which harbored her thick sandy pubic patch. In fact, Daphne’s hair was dense enough that, had it been any darker color, her cunt’s thin crease would have been fully hidden. When Daphne turned around to hang up her lantern, Royce, at last, saw revealed the ass he had only imagined when he watched her earlier in the kitchen. It was delightful: Tight, round and not overlarge. He also enjoyed an upward line of sight. His fattened cock twitched at the rearview angle of her thighs joining their junction with her twat.

Daphne turned around again and, as she and her daughter faced the men in the water, she answered Clementine’s question. “I think you better stick with scrubbing Poppa… you already pushed the social boundaries when you asked Mr. Engel how old he was. I’ll wash up Mr. Engel… besides, without me there to help you, Poppa will need even more of your attention.”

Clementine had looked forward to being a good hostess and could not help but pout to show her disappointment. Still, she would be able to double rub Mitch and she loved how his penis got hard and throbbed in her hands. “Alright, Momma,” she agreed dutifully and clambered into the large pool with Mitch. As Clementine half-swam half-waded to her father, Daphne walked toward Royce’s pool.

“Uhm, Daphne?” Royce croaked, covering his hardness with his left hand and scuttling to the far rock rim. “What are you doing? There’s another pool over there.” He pointed across his body to the small hot pool to his left.

“Oh, I know that… I live here… remember?” Daphne laughed out loud and stepped into the warm water. It covered her thighs and lapped at her pussy as it sloshed. She waded slowly to Royce, enjoying his obvious discomfort and inability to crawl any further away. “What is this?” She teased in a light soft sing-song voice. “A grown man… and so shy?” She snickered and sat beside Engel, pushing her left hip hard against his right and draping her left arm around his shoulder. The water swirled around their chests. Her boobs bobbed while she scratched her left fingernails up and down Royce’s bicep. “You know,” she whispered, leaning close to his ear, “I’ve only ever seen or been naked with Daddy… shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous? You are as tense as a buck in a clearing, I swear!”

Royce was speechless. He felt more like a man staring at the light of an oncoming train with his feet nailed to the ties. His cock did not mind, however, when Daphne pushed her right hand under his guarding left hand and closed into a loose fist. His cock liked it. It throbbed and hopped while her fingers rolled up and down like tines in a music box. “Hunh! Imagine that!” Daphne cooed into his kartal escort burning ear. “Your thing gets big and hard just like Daddy’s.”

She pulled her hand away and swiveled herself until she was facing Royce, crouching between his knees on the rocky bottom of the pool. She pulled his arms until he was forced to embrace her and her arms looped around his neck and waist. Tugging Royce and pushing off the rocks, Daphne backed up until they were centered in the pool, chin deep in the water. She began rubbing Royce’s back from his nape to his buttocks and all about his ribcage, returning in a circuit to his shoulders. He tingled all over, both on his skin surface and inside along his very nerve network.

“Doggone it!” Daphne exclaimed in a low hiss. Her mouth was only inches from Royce’s. “This is never going to work if you don’t do ME, TOO! You gotta start rubbin’ me, Royce… the bubbly water is fine but I need friction!” She leaned further in until her breasts rested, floating, against Engel’s chest and her nipples tickled his own.

Royce began mirroring Daphne’s massage. She showed her pleasure with small moans. He wanted to be more overtly sexual but a small voice in his head advised him to follow Daphne’s lead. He decided to play a silent game of ‘Mother May I’ and accept her guidance on limits to the bathing and play.

Meanwhile, ten feet away, Clementine was cuddled tight against Mitch’s broad strong back, using her breasts for scrub sponges on his shoulder blades as she wiggled and shimmied, back and forth and up and down. He groaned with pleasure and she giggled gleefully. Usually it was her mother who worked on her father’s back and she had to settle for his chest and thighs. Now, she got it all. Her hands busily brushed back and forth across Mitch’s hard flat chest, and down over his equally firm flat stomach. She drilled a fingertip into his belly button, making sure no cotton lint remained from his work shirt. When the back of her hand bumped into his floating boner she smiled and crowed quietly into the back of Mitch’s neck. “Ho-HO!” She exclaimed, kissing the wet hair at the base of his scalp. “Looky at what just popped up, Poppa!” Swiftly Clementine pushed her hand past the thick dick and then pounced on it with her curled palm, squeezing it gently, stroking up and down, reveling as it pulsed against her closed fingers. Mitch’s breathing shortened as she milked his cock. He grabbed her hand in his and followed its upstroke. At the top of his staff he pulled her hand free and raised it until it was in front of his mouth.

Mwah! Mitch kissed his daughters dripping fingers and pushed them between his lips, nibbling their tips before extracting her hand from his mouth. “Darling,” he cautioned, “Remember we are just washing each other… Play time is later.”

Mitch held Clementine’s wrist in a powerful grip and tugged gently. She followed, as if on a leash, and slid around his body until she was seated on her father’s thighs. Mitch kissed her deeply and was rewarded when her sweet small tongue darted into his mouth and licked the inside of his lips and cheeks. Clementine mewled while he mauled her mouth and coursed his hands up and down her ribs from pelvis to armpits. He swamped her back and massaged her butt before bringing his hands forward to stroke and squeeze her tits. She yipped small delights as Mitch’s fingers splayed and compressed her boobs against her bones. She raked his back with her nails and squirmed her bottom on his groin, nearly pushing her pussy onto his stiff stalk. “Darling,” Mitch said, breaking their kiss, “I think you must be squeaky clean.” He chuckled low in his throat. “Or at least, you’re SQUEAKING… Bath time’s over, are you ready for play time?”

Clementine nodded as she helplessly clung to her father. Her pussy was on fire and her guts were tumbling. Her nipples ached for the special treatment Mitch had begun giving her three weeks ago. She did not know how she had gone her whole life without feeling his mouth sucking on her but she knew now when she needed him. “Ohhh, Popppa… yesss, PLEASE!” She slumped in his arms and felt the cool air flow across her naked backside as he stood in the pool, lifting her with him as he rose.

“Daphne, Sugar,” Mitch called softly across to the middle pool where Royce and his first-born squatted in a hug so close he could not tell where her torso ended and Engel’s began. “Clemmy wants to go to her room and practice her lessons… You keep Royce company… He’s our guest and we don’t want him to think we inhospitable, DO we?”

Daphne turned her head toward her father and smiled. “No worries, Daddy… Good night!” She returned her face to Royce, bumping her nose lightly against his, while Mitch’s bare white ass disappeared as he carried Clementine up the black tunnel, leaving his lantern behind. “Now then, Mr. Engel,” she buzzed, with her lips resting against his, “Where were we?

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