Honor thy Father and slut (Camp Slut Series- Chapter 9) - Sex Stories

Honor thy Father and slut (Camp Slut Series- Chapter 9)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and fantasy. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental. This story is not intended to be an accurate reflection of any particular lifestyle. Honor thy Father and slut (Chapter 9) I was out in the workshop trying to isolate a particularly bothersome card fault when I heard the chime indicating someone was coming down the driveway. I flipped the TV to the security feed to see an expensive looking luxury car easing its way down the gravel, and I laughed. I hit the intercom. “Gail, I think your parents have come for a visit. Set a couple extra places for lunch. Mike, get another pot of coffee on and make sure we have some cold beer in the fridge. I’m on my way up.” I cut off the channel to twin, “Yes, Master” responses. It had been a little over a month since my sluts had moved in, and things were settling into a decent routine. They took turns being “on duty” serving me, though Mike’s service was more of a butler than a sex slave. The boy could suck dick, but I still wasn’t comfortable fucking him. More often, I’d sic him on Gail- or her on him, depending on who was on duty that day. She’d had two periods so far, one shortly after our shopping trip, the second just having ended. We were all a little disappointed that we hadn’t gotten her pregnant yet, but were cheered by the fact that it meant we could keep trying. Mike went into his work on his days off from me. Gail, as it turned out, had degrees in Business ...

... Administration and Accounting, which worked out well for me since I both sucked at and hated doing the paperwork part of my contracting business. She took over doing my books and scheduling, and things hadn’t run smoother. I made sure she gave herself a salary worthy of her contributions. It all went into the “Communal Household Account”, but at least we’d pass a SOX audit if anyone asked. It took me a few minutes to get my workbench cleaned up and to get up to the house. As I walked in the back, Gail was greeting her mother, with Arnold standing patiently waiting for the girls to finish. I finished wiping my hands with the rag I’d carried with me before extending one to Gail’s father. “Mr. Jeffries. A pleasure to see you both again, sir. Welcome.” Arnold frowned as he took my hand, looking every bit as imposing has he had when we first met at his home. “David. It’s ‘Arnold’, ‘Mr. Jefferies’, or ‘Dad’. If you call me ‘Sir’ again, I will put you on your knees and shove my dick down your throat. “ He chuckled at that, seeming to find the threat amusing for some reason. I laughed with him, stepping back and offering him a seat at the kitchen table. “Arnold, then, since I won’t call you ‘Dad’ until Gail and I are married, and I’d rather not be treated with that particular taste. Coffee?” I took a seat and motioned to Mike, who was standing along the wall, waiting. He quickly moved to pour two mugs, setting them on the table next to the sugar bowl and cream, then went back to wait. ...