MY INHERITANCE
Chapter 1
Uncle Bert
My name is David Bertram Wilson. Barely twenty-one, I had just graduated summa
cum laude in chemistry and physics from Rice University in Houston. All my
family are scientists: orderly, logical, boring types. My father is a nuclear
physicist, my mother a biochemist. All my aunts and uncles are scientists, too.
My grandfather had seven boys. He named them Andrew, Bertram, Charles, Donald,
Edward, Frank and George. I told you we are very orderly people.
We are a very close family but the person I always felt closest to was my Uncle
Bert. Uncle Bert was different, the odd one, so to speak. While all the others
had significant positions in research with major corporations or key
professorships at major universities, Uncle Bert was a maverick. He had sold
some patents early in his life and invested the money. He had homes in Vail and
Aspen but he usually lived in an old ranch house in the Rockies above Glenwood
Springs. He was always experimenting on something or another. Every Christmas
I could remember, Uncle Bert spent with us, or, us with him in the mountains
skiing.
Since I was a small boy, my parents sent me to spend the summer with him each
year. I loved Uncle Bert. Out of all those stiff science types, we were kindred
spirits, cutting up, laughing, joking. Uncle Bert would want to just lie in the
sun and sleep sometimes, or chase butterflies, or, when I was older, chase
women. I could never imagine any of the others doing that. In fact, I felt
more like him, closer to him, than I did my own parents.
I had just finished unloading my car in LA where my parents both teach at UCLA
when we got the news. Uncle Bert had died. His lawyer called to tell us the
news. I was in shock. I knew he had suffered a major heart attack eight months
ago, but we all thought he had fully recovered. The lawyer asked to speak to
me. Telling me I had been appointed executor and primary beneficiary of Uncle
Bert's estate, he asked me to come to Denver immediately. I took the next
plane and met with the lawyer the next morning. He reviewed Uncle Bert's legal
situation, filed the will for me and gave me the keys to Uncle Bert's homes.
The lawyer said, as he gave me an envelope, "Your Uncle left this for you,
David. I do not know what is inside."
It was terse note which read, "Go to my ranch house. Call 555-4567 and ask for
Andy. It is very important."
I met with the bank trust department who managed all his money. I found Uncle
Bert had left enough for me to have about $20 million after taxes and gifts to
others, not including the three houses. My parents and all his siblings had
been left nice sums and trusts of $1 million each had been established for Mary
Mathews and Andrea Mathews. I had never heard of them but I knew Uncle Bert
knew a lot of people. I finished with the bank and called the lawyer to tell him
I was going into the mountains to Uncle Bert's . . . now, my . . . house. I
was going to rent a car but the lawyer said Uncle Bert's new Bronco was waiting
for me. I pointed the Bronco up Interstate 70 and headed into the mountains.
Memories of Uncle Bert flooded through me as the miles ticked away. He was
always there, giving me presents, advise: giving me love and guidance. He had
never married and it seemed I was his total focus when I was with him. In the
summer, we would go fishing, hiking, dreaming. We did not always stay in the
Rockies. Uncle Bert took all over America, and to Europe and the Far East as I
was growing up. Each summer was a wonderful, exciting and, educational
adventure.
When I got to puberty, I understood why Uncle Bert was single. He would never
be satisfied with one woman. My mind flashed back to the summer I was fourteen.
"Davy," Uncle Bert said, "some friends of mine are coming for a visit. They will
be here about two weeks."
"Oh, Uncle Bert, I was hoping we could do things together," I said petulantly.
"We will, Davy. We will." I saw the twinkle in his eye.
"Do you know about the birds and the bees, Davy?"
"Of course. Biology is . . . "
"No, Davy," he interrupted. "Do you know about women? Pussy? Sex? Fucking?"
I turned a bright red. My parents were so conservative, "Touched By An Angel"
was too risque for them.
"No," I croaked.
"Are you a virgin?"
No man at any age likes to admit he is a virgin. But, I was. "Yes, sir," I
said shame faced.
"Davy, you are only fourteen. Don't be embarrassed. Do you masturbate?"
I wanted to sink into the floor but I nodded affirmatively. He laughed. I
loved Uncle Bert's laugh. It was strong, happy, masculine.
"Well, Davy. You may not want these two weeks to end."
"What do you mean?"
He smiled and got up to get more coffee, refusing to discuss it further. About
five that afternoon, a Dodge Caravan drove up the long gravel road to the ranch
house. The doors opened and three females got out.
"Davy, this is Susan Stevens and her daughters, Sandy and Sara." As we unloaded
their car, Uncle Bert said, "Davy, put the girls' things in your bedroom." I
froze, my mind whirring. I had a hard-on most of the day wondering what Uncle
Bert's cryptic comments this morning meant. Now, it was a steel rod and I was
afraid the girls would see it. They did.
Sandy firmly grabbed my cock through my jeans.
"You a virgin?" she asked. That was the second time that day I was embarrassed
to answer that question, but I did.
"So is Sara," Sandy replied. "Don't worry. Neither of you will be virgins in
the morning." I thought I would shoot right there.
As the evening progressed, I learned Sandy was sixteen and Sara was fourteen,
like me. Both of them looked like their mother, tall, slim, tiny waists, small,
high breasts. They had long brown hair and huge, soft chocolate eyes over a cute
nose and full lips. We visited, ate and played Monopoly. It was only eight
fifteen when Uncle Bert said, "Well, it is my bedtime." He stood, took Susan's
hand and headed for his bedroom. We three teenagers just stared at each other.
Sandy laughed. "Come on, virgins. We need to go to bed, too," she said, heading
for our bedroom. I looked at Sara, expecting to see her blush. Her face was
raw, wanton lust. My cock quivered as it quickly hardened. I had never undressed
in front of a girl before, and, the only girl I had seen naked was my cousin
Debbie, one of Uncle Donald's daughters. I started to unbutton my shirt.
"Davy," Sara whispered, desire dripping from her voice. "May I undress you?"
"If I can undress you," I replied.
"OK," she giggled. As Sara's small, dainty fingers fumbled with my buttons, I
became instantly aware of the heat rising from her and of the smell. It was
something I had never smelled before. It was something I immediately knew I
would love forever.
It was the smell of pussy.
I should tell you how I feel about pussy. Some guys say a real man would never
eat pussy. I say a man who does not eat pussy: (a) is a macho asshole too stupid
to know what he is missing, and, (b) does not truly love women. How can a man
say he loves women and not want to bury himself in her essence: to smell it,
touch it, lick it, taste it, feel its heat, its slimy, sweet stickiness. Saying
you like women but don't eat pussy is like saying your love roses but do not
want to touch or smell one. When I eat pussy, I sometimes stick my prominent
nose in there, rubbing the bridge against her clit as I smell and taste her.
And, I have never had a woman push my mouth away from her, unless she is so
exhausted from orgasming she needs to rest.
But, I did not know all this at that moment when Sara Stevens began unbuckling
my belt. All I knew was I was going to get laid for the first time and that
thought and her smells were driving me mad.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Sandy had stripped naked. She lay
back on the beg, spread her legs, and was slowly fingering herself. I felt Sara
slip to her knees in front of me as she pulled my boxers down. Sara was staring
right at my cock, her big eyes unblinking. As I felt the precum ooze from me, I
wondered how much longer I would be a virgin.
Sandy knelt beside her sister.
"Young men go off real quickly unless they have had an orgasm or two. Do you
want him to cum in your mouth, sis?"
"Yes, but not right now," Sara replied.
"Watch me then. Watch how my mouth works him. Hold his balls. You can tell when
he is going to cum that way." I felt Sara cup my balls in her hand and heard
her rapid breathing. Sandy's tongue flicked out to lick my pre cum away. Then,
my cock disappeared in her mouth. I felt her apply a vacuum as her tongue
whipped back and forth on the underside of my prick.
Sara squealed as I starting shooting in Sandy's mouth. I put a hand on each of
their heads for balance as Sandy slurped away. My very first blow job was very
enjoyable indeed. Sandy grabbed her sister by the back of the neck, kissing her
hard, her tongue down Sara's throat. Sara struggled a little at first, then
relaxed, letting her sister rape her mouth. I realized Sandy had not swallowed
me but was transferring my cum to Sara.
They both had white gooey spunk on their lips when Sandy broke the kiss.
"Like it?" Sandy asked. She was the sixteen-year-old sex pro teaching us "kids"
the ropes.
"Yeah," Sara replied, her voice full of amazement.
"You will learn to love it, sis. A real woman is always a first class cock
sucker and loves to swallow cum. I cannot get enough."
"Can I try?" Sara asked.
"Ask him." Sara looked at me with huge, hot bubbling eyes. "Can I suck your
cock, Davy?"
I nodded happily but I thought, "what a stupid question."
Sara wrapped her lips around me. I was swelling rapidly.
"It is so big," Sara said.
"Yes. Don't expect all men to be that big. And, Davy is not finished growing."
That one comment did enough for my ego for a lifetime. As Sandy quietly gave her
instructions, sweet, fourteen year old, Sara Stevens was learning to suck cock.
I was the beneficiary of her education. Sandy even instructed her on how to
deep throat although Sara did not get the hang of it yet. I felt a load coming.
So did Sara. She started sucking harder but when I went off in her mouth, she
gagged and pulled back. I shot spunk on her face as Sara tried to swallow what
she could. Sandy licked her sister clean.
After Sara and I floated down from her afterglows, I helped the girls to their
feet.
"My turn," I said as I reached for the buttons on Sara's blouse.
"No, no," Sandy said. "Very slowly. Take your time."
"No. Do it real quick, Davy. I want you in me," Sara snapped. She was naked in
a flash. Sara and I climbed on the bed.
"Now, slowly, Davy," Sandy instructed.
"Shut, up, Sandy," Sara and I said simultaneously. I felt Sara's hand on my
cock as she guided me into her.
Since I had cum, I could last longer; probably a lot longer, although I was too
inexperienced to know that. All I knew was my cock was in a cunt for the first
time in my life. Sara was tight, so very tight, like my own fist. She squirmed
as I pushed. I felt something resist my entrance.
"It is her hymen, David," Sandy said.
"Sis, this will hurt but he has to break it."
"Just do it. I want to be fucked," Sara groaned.
"Push hard and fast," Sandy ordered. I did. Sara screamed. I pulled out and
saw the blood.
"It's OK. Now, go back in her and fuck her." I hesitated.
"You heard her! Fuck me!" Sara barked. I did. Sara wrapped her legs around me
and held on for dear life. Her smallish tits were hot diamonds burning a hole
in my chest as I pounded away. "Oh, Davy, hurry," she whimpered urging me to
fuck her harder, not that I needed any encouragement.
Then, it happened. I knew at once what it was, and, I knew I would be addicted
to it the rest of my life. I felt her legs tightened, heard her breathing
quicken. She tilted her hips upward and held my ass to her, maximizing my
penetration. Her back arched as she whimpered quietly. I had experienced a
woman's orgasm on my cock. There is nothing like it.
That is how I lost my virginity, many thanks to Uncle Bert. We did not stop
there. For two weeks, sex education class was in session. I also deflowered
Sara's cute, tight ass. And, I screwed Sandy and their mother, Susan, as well.
I learned Sandy lost her virginity to Uncle Bert about eight months before.
They taught me everything from both a woman's and a man's perspective.
Those two weeks were my first time to fuck a pussy, an ass, a mouth, two women,
three women, first threesome, foursome and fivesome. All in all, it was best
two weeks any fourteen-year-old guy ever had.
Uncle Bert was right. It was the shortest two weeks of my life and I hated to
see them go.
Waking from my reverie, I was hungry and the Bronco needed gas. I stopped at
Loveland and filled us both up.
To be continued. . . .
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