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Påsk med familjen (Easter Bunny’s Hutchins)
Sunday, March 27th, 2016, 12:13 p.m.
The Sunday arrived which would serve as the first occasion Elsa spent with Riley’s three parents. It would just be the five of them this time, Riley explained. She took Elsa shopping once more, this time for a semi-formal spring dress. As for Riley, she donned one of her suits and ties, retrieved her Easter contribution—Saran-wrapped sweet carrots (the Bunny’s favorite)—and carted them to her Moms’. Sometimes they rotated, but Amber and Christine hosted the most holidays. After calling them—her Moms and her father, Rob Seeley—with the magical update of her new bride, Riley shot them a group e-mail.
hi guys. Elsa and I are really looking forward to Sunday. I’m bringing my carrots. moms, I hope you’re making the chicken divan. no one can resist that stuff, that will make Elsa automatically love you. I know you guys are all gonna love her. just a heads up, you know I told you she’s from Sweden. I know we don’t know a ton of non Americans, but- SHE GLOWS. almost like a fairy tale princess. no magic powers, but other than that it’s like I stole her right out of Frozen. and she’s not just WAY too beautiful. she’s so sweet, innocent, pure, you almost won’t believe she’s 25. seriously, she legit should have wings and a halo. I can’t believe how lucky I got. I just hope she doesn’t make you love HER more than me, lol. see you then. lotsa luvs, your baby girl. R
Her Dad Rob’s reply was simple and to point, expressing similar pleasantries. A joint one floated in from Amber and Chrissie asking some things about Elsa. One of them was what were her favorite foods and desserts. Riley said fruit salad, pizza, gravlax, pudding, and especially cookies. All kinds. What Riley and Elsa didn’t know was the Hutchins Moms’d camouflaged this query, because they were planning to surprise the girls with Easter baskets. Both were filled with the traditional goodies: paper grass, jelly beans, candy eggs, chocolate rabbits, marshmallow Peeps, and a unique treat for each of them. Asking about Elsa’s favorite foods was immaterial subterfuge, just for the dessert knowledge. So in Riley’s basket they artfully slipped a tube of cotton candy—which made her salivate like Pavlov’s dogs—and Elsa’s a tin of assorted cookies. Rob had arrived shortly before the girls did. When they pranced in and saw the baskets, needless to say, sweet teeth tingled. And the trio of parents saw what Riley meant in her e-mail about Elsa.
The door opened to a chorus of “Hiiiiii there!”s and “Happy Easter!”s, wrapped in an embracing swaddle of hugs. Elsa didn’t mind admitting that her big Nordic heart was pounding, praying she made a tremendous first impression. She covered her mouth with her fists in excitement, then tossed her arms around them all.
“Åh herregud, I am so happy to meet all ‘de t’ree of you!” she exclaimed. “I’ve heard vunderful t’ings about eash of you.”
“Oh, why, thank you, Elsa!” said Christine. “We’ve heard amazing stuff about you too!”
“Absolutely. C’mon, c’mon, you two, get in here!” Amber added. “We’ve got som’n’ waiting for you in the living room.”
The girls were introduced to the baskets, which waited on the coffee table. Riley was certainly charmed, this being a special occasion and the first time they’d given her a basket in years. She turned to Elsa and said, “Omigod, honey, look!” Which she kind of regretted after a moment, making it feel Elsa was her child rather than her wife. But Elsa validated Riley’s reaction with her own. She gasped, held up a finger, said, “…Vun moment, please,” took off her clogs, nudged them aside, and leapt barefoot into the air several times.
“Eeeeeeeeee!!”
Once through cheering, she cleared her throat and turned back to the Moms.
“I didn’t vant to scuff up your nice vooden floor vit’ my shoes.”
Riley and her parents shared a laugh, the former now gathering why her Moms had asked about her girl’s favorite treats. “Oh, you guys!” Riley addressed them, seeing what they did here. “I see what you did there!”
“Happy Easter, girls,” said Amber. “Rob brought some stuff we put in there too.”
The enchanted Elsa doled another hearty hug to each, accompanying with a cheek peck.
“Oh, t’ank you, Mr. Seeley! Mwah! T’ank you, Mrs. Hushins! Mwah! T’ank you, Mrs. Hushins! Mwah!”
The parents giggled and marveled at her affection. Chrissie spoke up next.
“Well now, sweetheart, you don’t have to call us that; you and Riley’re married now! You can call us…y’know.”
“Amber, Christine and Rob?” Elsa guessed.
“…Well, I was gonna say Moms and Dad, but…or that, or our names, sure. Whatever makes you most comfortable, honey.”
“Oh, t’ank you, Mrs. Hushins!”
The hostesses encouraged Rob and the girls to make themselves at home—something Riley attested Elsa was quite skilled at. They flipped erzurum escort on the tube and began chatting. Rob had a few questions to ask Elsa, and Elsa had a lot for Rob. She found it so sweet Riley and her Moms wanted the man who made her birth possible to be a significant part of her life. And she’d stipulate a child could benefit from the influence of a Mom and Dad. The chat eventually tapered off as a movie on TV began to captivate them. A consultation of the on-screen guide informed them the film was a dramatic thriller called Runaway Jury, based on a John Grisham novel. John Cusack played the lead role, a juror named Nicholas Easter. Aha, they thought. Hence it showing today.
Amber and Chrissie popped the irresistible chicken divan from the oven and arranged it with their gravy-adjacent mashed potatoes, the ham Rob’d brought them and Riley’s carrots. They then emerged to the living room and instructed everyone to come and get it. So engrossed had the guests become in Runaway Jury, they felt compelled to pause it to go get their food. The Moms served themselves and joined, and the five-piece unit dug in together. The meal took them through most of the rest of the movie, especially as its suspense drew them in and persuaded them to dine slower. A couple times Elsa gave a small scream and clutched Riley’s arm like a security blanket. By closing credits, each component of the quintet felt a bit shaken and stirred.
“…Wow,” remarked Rob. “Pretty wild, huh?”
“In-tense,” added Chrissie, as a nodding Amber whistled.
“Yeah…” Riley exhaled. “I think we could all use something a little lighter-hearted now, huh? How ’bout the ball game?”
So they switched to MLB and the girls were given the baskets to tear into. It was time as well for the other dessert, so the hostesses broke out the rhubarb pie. They were granted a number of happy endings today, as their Twins beat the Yankees 5-2. In and around the game and dessert, they continued to get Elsa acquainted. They let the TV go on, played some cards and board games, finally deciding to call it a night around 7:00. Inevitably, Amber and Chrissie flirted with each other, more and more aggro all the while. They began semi-graphically hitting on one another, which amused Elsa and Rob, but understandably embarrassed Riley and made her far less than comfy. So finally the guests were off, to let the Hutchins ladies get private, in private.
*****
( we now recess for a gratuitous and extracurricular sex scene
När alla vännerna gått hem… (When All Your Friends’ve Gone Home)
Sunday, March 27th, 2016, 7:19 p.m.
Chrissie sat pretty and patient, as Amber waved and watched from the front door. As both cars pulled away, finally gone from her sightline, she shut and locked it, slowly turned 180°, and sultrily narrowed her eyes. Christine was innocently perched there in her rocker, one leg over the other, hands clasped on her lap. Her face wore a smug little smirk. Amber arched her brows.
“And just what do you think you’re smirking at?”
Chrissie’s smirk grew to an impish smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Amber inched back in on her.
“Why don’t you step into that bedroom of ours and we’ll figure it out.”
Christine turned coy, offering a curtsy paw. “You gonna lead me by the hand?”
“Like me to lead you by something else?”
Amber’s wife’s something else tingled.
“…Let’s save the real romance for till we’re behind that door.”
Chrissie hopped up, pranced toward their bedroom, and Amber chased after her.
Slam! Amber closed the door behind, and “blocked” it for a moment so Christine couldn’t “escape.”
“I’ve got you now.”
“Oh, have you now?” Chrissie wanted to know, as Amber stalked nearer, backing her to the opposite wall.
“…Then what are you planning to do with me?”
Amber closed in, flashing an evil-looking grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She took Chrissie’s hands one by one, kissed each and gingerly placed them to the wall. She closed the remaining space, passionately rushing her lips with a first searing kiss. Christine’s eyes were forced to close as Amber’s paws migrated from her wrists to her hands. She held Chrissie pinned to the wall, linking their digits. Sandwiched betwixt her wife and plaster, Chrissie began to melt with sweat.
A relationship rarity though it was, the(se) Hutchinses had managed to keep their romance not only alive but aflame, for thirty-plus years. It helped that they liked experimenting with all sorts of games and activities: roleplaying, fantasies, bondage, exhibitionism, kink, S&M and so forth. What also helped was that both willed to switch and alternate who was bottom and top. They’d come to a more or less unspoken agreement that whichever was top would decide what little “game” they’d play. Today Amber seemed to have taken the ghpops.com initiative, and was feeling dominant. What was more, they’d been flirting since before Riley, Elsa and Rob arrived. Their sexual energy built the rest of the day, until by the time they were finally alone again, they were dying to pounce each other.
Now that Amber had Chrissie nailed to the wall, lips in constant contact, their hands went to work. Virtually zero foreplay was necessary. Amber reached down to unsnap and unzip Christine’s jeans, as Chrissie started undoing the buttons on Amber’s shirt. Already ripe, hungry skin was revealed, exposed to the predatory atmosphere. Christine fondled Amber’s breasts and Amber rubbed Chrissie’s pussy through her panties, both as a preliminary hello, and back they went to stripping. Quiet, low groans seeped as the outer garments came off. At last, Amber pried her lips off Christine’s and growled an order.
“Get in that bed… little girl.”
Chrissie’s cunt sprung a leak. She liked this fantasy.
Stripped of all overwear, Christine shifted into thespian mode. She demurely sidled from between Amber and the wall, shy and intimidated, and started climbing on the bed. Amber waited for her to ascend, and spanked her on the right ass cheek.
Gasp. “Aaaah!” Chrissie squealed, intentionally over-acting a bit, helplessly collapsing in the mattress on her belly. She heard the sharp footsteps approach from behind, then gasped again as Amber took her between the legs, cupping her cunt.
“All fours again, you little bitch. Get up.”
Christine whimpered, (her little girl character) too frightened to defy. She obeyed. The light dimmed as Amber’s daunting shadow and sinister chuckle spilled over her. She took hold of Chrissie’s bra and began unhooking it, gripping her encased tits as well.
“Hmm,” said Amber, as Christine quivered beneath her. “Nice full firm breasts for such an innocent little girl.”
Another whimper. “That-that feels funny, Miss… Lady. …I dunno if I like it.”
A chortle. “Not to worry, sweetheart; you will.”
Bra undone, Amber whipped it from Chrissie’s torso and spanked her again, this time on the left cheek. Another yelp, and down went Christine in the bed once more. They played her character as scared and vulnerable as possible. Amber migrated to her side.
“Roll over,” ordered Amber, pushing the captive waif onto her back. Wasting no further seconds, she seized Chrissie’s panties and wrestled them down her legs. Another gasp, and Chrissie panicked. She waved and flailed her arms, tensed her body up and tried to cover her now exposed genitals. She too tried to roll back over on her tummy, but Amber admonished her with a harsh spank. Her wife/bottom/submissive rolled back over face up.
“Don’t you challenge me, you little worm,” Amber smirked. “You’re gonna learn a lesson today. It’s unsafe for a small child to sneak into the home of a strange woman she doesn’t know. She could be any number of dangerous things. And in this case… is.”
She grinned, reaching for Chrissie’s wrists.
“Now get your hands off your privates, and let the nice lady see them.” Her eyes deviously narrowed. Christine resisted.
“Come on, little one, don’t try to fight me,” purred Amber, tugging at her wrists. “Move your hands, or I’ll tie them behind your back. You don’t want that, do you? Certainly not. Come then, let’s have a look at’cha.”
Chrissie shut her eyes, feigning shame and fright as she succumbed to Amber’s advances. As much as Chrissie’s little girl character didn’t like this, she herself couldn’t get enough of it. It was all divine theater—exceedingly kinky and imaginative, and something so diabolical and taboo in real circumstances, it would be unthought of. And that was precisely why it made them both so, fucking, hot. Hence Chrissie’s 50-year-old adult body ready and willing, boasting her heaving tits, stiff nipples and secreting wet pussy. Naturally, Amber took devilish advantage of her exposure, fingering her slit. The uncomfortable Christine squirmed and whined.
“No, please, don’t…”
“Quiet, pipsqueak.” Amber chuckled with salacious satisfaction as she too slid into bed, toying with Chrissie’s girl-goodies. Her wifey sub obsequiously and theatrically tried to lie still, but was terrorized by the molesting touches. She peeped and wept through tightly pursed lips, displaying the beginnings of a tantrum. She whipped her head and started smacking the mattress with a fist.
“Ah, yes…” cooed Amber, parting Chrissie’s labia, stroking a particularly sensitive spot. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Mm-mm!” Christine objected, vehemently shaking her head.
“Oh, but you do,” Amber corrected her. “You see, little girl, your nipples have hardened, and your pretty pink little pussy is all wet now. That means you do really like it. Even though you don’t think you do. Let me show you…”
Chrissie’s pussy lips wide ajar, Amber intrusively shoved a couple of fingers inside her. Chrissie let out another mouse-like squeak, turned her face away, curled her toes and clenched all over. Her fists shook at her sides, almost as if restrained there. She didn’t fight or try to attack Amber, because they’d worked out that—in this scenario, Christine’s child character had been taught to obey an adult and do as she said. Even when that adult happened to be violating her. She was the perfect submissive. And it made the whole fantasy as lascivious as could be for them. The next thing Chrissie felt was Amber’s other hand’s fingers pinch and flick her nipples.
Gasp. “Ow.”
“Oh, dear,” said Amber, faking a modicum of sympathy. “Does that hurt, sweetie?”
“A-a little,” Chrissie meekly replied.
“Awww… well, too bad. This is all your fault, I’m afraid, my child. You’ve been warned not to go into strange houses by yourself, and now you have to suffer the consequences. You have no one to blame but yourself for this. You can’t do anything about it, and like it or not… you are aroused, my darling. Here…”
She extracted her digits from Christine’s pussy, smeared her hand with the moisture, leaned forth and waved the wet, cunt-stained fingers under Chrissie’s nose.
“…Smell for yourself.”
Christine twitched, winced and shut her eyes, pretending the scent upset her. She whapped her head back to the side, smushing half her face in the pillow. She opened her mouth to beg Amber to leave her alone.
“Plea—MMMmff!”
“Taste it,” commanded her wife/top/domme, shoving the fingers into her mouth. She poured on the torment, tickling Chrissie’s boobs and pelvis with the other hand. The coerced laughs were muffled and garbled as Amber thrust the digits again and again, hand-fucking Christine’s mouth. The mouth-fuckee continued whining and wriggling. It was delightful sexplay in both roles. Both had been in the position Chrissie was in, and that which Amber was as well. And both looked forward to the next time they traded off. Christine was quite an artful, resourceful domme herself. With her own wily ways of setting Amber’s libido on fire.
When Amber decided she was through with this little phase, she closed it, opened the next, and undid her underthings. Chrissie opened her eyes to a faceful of equally fragrant panties as Amber tossed them at her. As Christine’s befuddled hands flew up to de-brief her face, Amber unfastened her own bra, yanked it off by a cup and whipped it to the floor. She climbed onto the bed, placing a palm on Chrissie’s abs for balance.
“Look at me, young lady.”
Christine turned Amber’s way. Still in her brilliant actress mode, when she saw that Amber now knelt before her completely nude, she threw her hands over her eyes. Being the little girl she was portraying, she wasn’t supposed to see others naked.
“Indeed,” nodded Amber. “And now, my precious little girl…”
She provocatively and wickedly flipped her eyebrows at Christine.
“…You’re going to eat your first pussy.”
Chrissie repositioned her paws so that she was covering her entire face. She gave a long, loud whimper.
“Put those hands down, or you know what I’ll do with them.”
Playing her Stockholm Syndrome character as meekly obedient as she could, Christine lowered her hands and slipped them under her back herself. Amber laughed.
“What a good little girl! Not for very long, though. Tonight, sweetheart…”
Amber climbed up onto the bed, swung a leg to the other side, angled forth, fists in the mattress, and sat on Chrissie’s face.
“…I’m gonna take away your virginity and make a woman out of you.”
“MMMMMFFF!!” Christine cried.
“Now lick it, you dirty little whore!” barked Amber. “Lick it fucking raw!”
This was a turning point in the game where a shift was undergone. The ladies dropped the characters and launched into a scorching vertical 69. Amber ground and smeared her also warm wet pussy in Chrissie’s kisser, shouting at her to stick her nose and tongue in it. Reciprocally, she bent and laid over Chrissie, spread her labia and began licking back. Christine hollered a moan into Amber’s cunt as electric sizzles attacked her from inside. Wife squarely atop, Chrissie started profusely perspiring. Amber’s sweat joined in a mixture of skin oils, and both pussies generated sticky hot love. Chrissie’s moan graduated to echoing throaty shouts from both, back and forth as the lust built to scalding passion. They 69’d fairly but not too often, trying not to let any techniques become less special or novel. The 69s nonetheless proved adventurous, resulting in double-cunnilingus.
This Easter Sunday would be witness to no further words out of Amber and Christine Hutchins; only frantic moans and screams as they devoured one another like animals. Hormones tore through the bedroom, shooting off the walls like laser beams. Fire engulfed both, melting them like human popsicles. It amazed them how wonderfully they could pleasure each other after thirty-five years.
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