Taking in Ralph

a Short Story by Kellis

March, 2009


“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, holding the textbook aside.  Though concentrating on following a mathematical derivation, he had peripherally seen her approach and sink out of sight.

Forcing the legs apart is attention-getting, as is having one’s robe thrown aside.  Cool firmness encircled his manhood and he twitched involuntarily.  Lying back on the couch, he looked in disbelief along the fine hair on his belly to the earnest face upturned between his legs.

“Nothing,” she said innocently.

“Nothing,” he repeated incredulously.  “Is that what you think you’ve taken hold of?”

Her eyes twinkled.  “I know what it is.  It’s almost nothing but won’t be in a minute.”

Deliberately the smirking lips parted around the head with a distinct slurp that imparted a delicious pang.  But, but —  “Shelley, for god’s sake!”

Suction engulfed most of the flaccid organ.  She giggled nasally as warmth spread in his belly.  His free hand was barely strong enough to push her forehead back.

“You’re Sharon’s sister!” he declared in tones of horror.

Her hand caught his wrist.  “Sharon’s with Mom, taking care of Aunt Della.  They’ll be gone late.  Didn’t she tell you?”

“Yeah.  You’re supposed to be in bed.”

The girl giggled, pulled his arm aside and remouthed him.  Her face sank all the way to his pubic hair.

“W-wait a minute!  You, you …”

She paused at the top of her following stroke, barely releasing him.  The vibration of her lip tickled as she asked, “You got some objection?”

He laid the book aside.  She returned his stare with unabashed brown eyes.  He had cast the lampshade to illuminate his reading and its light emphasized two yellow zits on her forehead, one near the right hairline, the other just above an unplucked left eyebrow.  She had a round face and a cute bud of a nose.  Her unpainted lips were parted around the tip of the circumcised penis, which she held up between fingers and thumb.  Short dark hair curled close to her head.  She wore a flannel nightgown, buttoned at the neck, with a small comic character embroidered on the shoulder.

He stared at the rapidly swelling knob atop her bottom lip.  “My god!” he said helplessly.  “H-how old are you, Shelley?”

Her eyes narrowed.  “What difference does that make?  My mouth’s big enough.”

“You know what difference it makes!”

She shrugged again.  Her mouth opened wide and her head dropped until her nose compressed his pubic pad.

The enclosure was warm and wet.  He took a deep breath.  “Sharon’s 21.  I understood you were six years younger than she.  Is that the tru—”

He distinctly felt her tongue thrust between his testicles and involuntarily cried out, “Good god!”

Her eyes twinkled.  She withdrew enough to ask, “You like that?”  The twinkle became a knowing grin.

“I don’t believe it!”

She giggled through the nose, having already refilled her mouth.  Her cheeks collapsed in suction.  Her tongue stroked him just under the urethra.

“Good god!” he exclaimed again in wonder.

She giggled nasally.

He took a second deep breath.  “Shelley, what’s come over you?”

She released him again.  “My TV’s busted.”

“Your TV!?”  He nodded across the room.  “That one works.  Sharon watched the news before she left.”

Her response was to lick the magenta knob touching her lips.  Now fully erect, it twitched in response.  She giggled again.  Suddenly it disappeared, along with most of the shaft.  His hand trembled with indecision.

He watched incredulously as her head began to bob.  She executed long, slow strokes, at the top exposing most of his knob, her nose touching crinkly hair at the bottom, accepting the entirety of his better than average length.

He tried once more.  “It’s Saturday night.  You’re old enough to date.  Why don’t you have one?”

Her nostrils flared.  She paused on the next stroke only long enough to speak before slurping him back into her mouth.  “I’m your date.”

“Don’t you care about your sister?”

She emitted a snort.

He protested, “I don’t believe she cheats.  Neither do I.”

The girl paused again at the top of her stroke.  “She told me about your agreement.”


“You’re very modern,” she explained.  “You don’t claim each other exclusively.”  She added a snicker.

“You think that’s funny?”

“I think it’s smart.”

He sighed.  “At least I haven’t cheated till now.  But this is so incredible!  Shelley, is that how you learned this?  Do you always suck your Saturday night date?”

Her eyes twinkled.  A hand squeezed his testicles.  The lamplight was bright on her face.  He stared in fascination at protruding lips that conformed to the shape of the knob passing between them.  On the downstroke they stretched the slight roll of skin below the corona, remnants of his foreskin, and released it with an elastic snap on the upstroke.  Her tongue swabbed electrically.  Her cheeks swelled at his entry and collapsed at each partial withdrawal.

“I can’t believe this,” he repeated.

Her eyes twinkled up at his.

He said, “You do know what’s about to happen!  Maybe you ought to quit.”

“Hmph!”  She added a jacking hand below her mouth. 

He groaned.  She froze, loosely retaining about half the twitching organ.

“Oh my god!” he growled, head thrown back, body tense, fists clenched at his sides, belly heaving.  Her tongue touched the knob exquisitely.  Squirt after ecstatic squirt splashed invisibly into her throat.  Her eyes widened slightly but otherwise showed no reaction.  She retained him without pressure.

Relaxing finally, he took several deep breaths.  At that she released him with a slight cleansing suction and raised the tip for inspection.  She bent and sucked up a last bit of white.

He heaved a long sigh.  “All right, Shelley.  You just sucked me off.  I can’t believe I let you go all the way!  What’s next, calling the cops?”

She snorted and said indistinctly, “’On ge’ e’sited.”  A white bubble formed on her lips as she attempted to speak.

He stared and asked dryly, “Was that, ‘Don’t get excited?’  Shouldn’t I, facing a 15 year-old with her mouth full of my come?”

“I’s a lo’!”

“It’s a lot?  I guess it was.  Sharon’s got her period, you know.”

Her lips parted in a grin, tongue pushing forward a mass of white bubbles that immediately disappeared with a slurp.  Her mouth worked to faint squishing sounds.

“God, Shelley, why don’t you spit it out — here, in my robe?”

Instead she bent forward.  Her mouth recaptured half his penis.  He twitched.  Now the enclosure was cool and very wet.  Her head resumed its previous motion.  Thin white rings of tiny bubbles formed around the shaft at the bottom of each stroke.  Pale rivulets escaped the corners of her mouth.  Her tongue strongly laved his knob.  He felt a dwindling echo of the earlier thrill.

He said, “You know I can’t come again, don’t you?”

Her head continued to bob.  Her hand caught up the book he had laid aside and put it into his.

“You think I can read while somebody sucks my dick?”  He shook himself, threw the book down, caught the girl’s head between his hands and forced it back.  “Now spit that stuff out!”

He heard a gulp.  A pink tongue swabbed her lips from a wide and empty mouth.  She grinned. 

“You swallowed it!” he accused.

“Why not?  It’s just man juice.”  She licked her lips.  “I’ll bet you didn’t know it tastes kind of sweet after it’s been in your mouth awhile.”

“You’re right — I didn’t!  What makes it sweet?”

“Starch, I guess, like crackers if you keep chewing on them.”

“Reaction with the saliva.  No kidding, it tastes sweet?”

“Sure does, if you keep it in your mouth.  Why are you grinning at me?”

“Because of what this implies about your dates.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you do anything besides suck cocks?”

Still clasping him in hand, she answered with another question, “Like what?”

He sighed.  “Shelley, there’s a whole world of fun —”

“Yeah, fucking.”

He shook his head.  “I was going to say, ‘Besides sex.’”

“Like you and Sharon?  The only thing you two do besides fuck is argue.”

“Argue?  We don’t argue.  We debate ideas.”

“Yeah,” she agreed scornfully, “ideas about dicks, like which hole should get the real one and which the fake.”

“What?  That was last week.  You were listening?”

“She didn’t grunt and you didn’t take a shower.  The fake dick must’ve gone up her ass that day.”

He choked.

She grinned at him smugly.  She licked her lips, eyes returning to the softening organ in her hand.

“Look here, Shelley, how about answering some questions?”

“Like what?”

“Like what made you want to suck my cock?”

“I told you.  I didn’t have anything else to do.”

“You could’ve gone to the mall.”

“It’ll close in another hour.  Besides it’s full of creeps.”


She nodded.  Her other hand squeezed his testicles gently.  Fingers rolled the nut in one and compared it to that of the other, but her attention was clearly not clinical.  She licked his knob, eyes twinkling.

He took a breath and a strong grasp on his diverted attention.  “So you thought, hey, there’s old Ralph; he’s got nothing to do either.”

“I thought about asking if you wanted to play cards or anything, but … your robe was open.”

“My robe?”

“A little bit.  I could see the bottom of these cuties.  I’m like, Gee, I know what hangs over them!  This is a nice one, Ralph.”  Her fingers stroked him.

His tone brightened.  “You think so?”

She sniffed.  “Don’t get excited.  I didn’t say it was a big one.”

“No, you didn’t.  You know a big one when you find one, do you?”

She was silent, hand stroking him, but her eyes twinkled.

“Or when you suck one,” he added.  “That was an expert blowjob, Shelley.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one.”

“Not even from Sharon?”

He studied her thoughtfully and chuckled.  “Did she teach you — maybe with a banana?”

“It wasn’t a banana and she didn’t teach me.”

“You don’t mean the same guy —  Nevermind.  Let’s not go there.”  He sighed.  “All right.  If it was planning to go soft, you’ve changed its mind.  But you didn’t really answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Why you just jumped between my legs and sucked up my dick.  Didn’t you think to ask?”

“Ask?”  She huffed emphatically.  “As in, ‘Can I suck your dick, Ralph?’”

“Well …”

“Would you have said, ‘No’?”

“Certainly I would’ve said, ‘No!’”

She nodded.  “Maybe that’s why I didn’t ask.”

He grinned.  “Of course when I thought it over …”

Her long tongue flicked up the softening head and her mouth sucked it in noisily.  He felt the promise of a future thrill.  With closed eyes her head bobbed around the stiffening shaft.  He sat still, watching her, expecting her action to cease momentarily, but she continued with the same slow and even stroke while seconds lengthened into minutes.

On a previous visit he had met her, the youngest in a household of three females: mother and two daughters, and appraised her slim body and small breasts.  Sharon’s body was more mature but Shelley might have the prettier face, he thought, if she ever bothered to make it up.  At least she believed in washing it.  Though he counted two yellow zits and three near-zits, he saw no blackhead.

An idea occurred to him.  “What are you really up to: beating your sister’s time?”

She withdrew from the fully restored organ.  “Doing what?  What’s that mean?”

“Getting her boyfriend’s attention.”

“Huh!  I’m getting his jizz!”

“But what do you want?  Just jizz?”

“I like jizz.”

He shook his head.  “I never heard a girl admit that!”

She giggled.  “Does it surprise you?”

He nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  I think you like to suck it out too.”

“Oh, yeah!  I love a dick in my mouth.”

“Good god!  How many have you sucked?”

She shrugged.  “Lots.  It’s the neatest way to fuck.”

He blinked.  “I guess so.  If you swallow.”

“I swallow.”

“So I noticed.  But … but what’s it do for you?”

“Makes my finger more thrilling.”

“Is that enough?”

“Well, I’ll show you what I like.”

He said, “Okay,” extending the last syllable invitingly, deciding that he was already guilty enough of statutory rape to satisfy the law.

She stood up, unbottoned her gown, took something from the pocket and threw the gown off, leaving herself nude but for a golden anklet.  His eyes widened on her immature, conical breasts, wasp-like figure and sleekly tapering legs.  Her pubes were trimmed to a vertical stripe.  Like her fingernails, the toenails were clipped but unpainted.

She endured his gaze momentarily, grinned and clambered atop him on the couch, squatting face-to-face over his hips.  Her eyes twinkled and she grinned in obvious anticipation.  One hand squeezed a lump of white grease from a small tube onto the opposite forefinger, which she slathered on the knob of his cock.

“How could you be dry?” he asked sarcastically.

She chuckled, rose slightly, held his resurrected manhood straight and settled lower.  His cock slipped through a ring that swept down the shaft.

“What the hell?” he asked, blinking.

After a delighted giggle whose vibrations affected his cock, she said, “I like blowjobs better but you can’t talk with a dick in your mouth.”

He arched his back and turned his head to view their junction.  “Shelley, did you just stick my cock …”

“Up my ass,” she explained flatly but giggled again at his expression.  She bounced a few times, awing him with her tightness.

He sputtered.  “Good god!  I can’t believe it.”

The tightness increased momentarily.  “Do you believe it now?”

“Oh, I believe it!  I just can’t believe a 15-year-old girl would want to do it.  How can it possibly feel good to you?”

“But it does!  Didn’t you ever play with shitting: hold it back and let it out slow?  That can feel good.  What it doesn’t feel is sexy.  For that I do this.”

Her hand went down.  He felt it flopping against his belly.  She added, “And when I do this …”  She slid forward slightly and began the typical female copulative hip roll.  “My pussy can feel it.  Ooo, that’s good!”

“So you came in here to play cards, did you?”

“I always carry a little grease.”

“Shelley …”  He sighed in disbelief.

She continued the movement.  Her eyes drifted shut and her head lowered until her cheek contacted his.  The lump of the other nipple pressed into his corresponding pectoral.  She asked huskily in his ear, “Doesn’t this feel good?”

“Yes, it does,” he admitted.  “Shelley, are you really 15?”

“Mom says, ’15 going on 30.’”

“How in hell did a teenage girl learn all this?  I can’t believe teenage boys are so far advanced.  Hell, I was a teenager four years ago.”

She chuckled.  “You think I learned it from boys?”

“Don’t tell me Sharon advises you!”

“Not from Sharon either.”

“Then how?”

She was silent, continuing her languid movement, fingers working between their bodies.  Her eyes lingered on his speculatively.  After a while she leaned closer to his face.  “Kiss me.”

He thrust his face forward in acceptance.  Her tongue parted his lips and he responded with his own tongue.  Her flavor was seminal, more an odor than a taste.

She backed away slightly.  “That’s one difference between boys and men.  Boys won’t kiss you after you’ve sucked them off.”

“Won’t they?  Shelley, who are the men in your life?”

She smiled smugly.  “You’re my third.”

Her eyes were guileless.  Her hips continued to roll.

He shook his head.  “I’m sure you didn’t pick them up in bars.  How many boys?”

“Oh, half a dozen, enough to know they’re creeps.”

“Because they won’t kiss you?”

“Mainly because they split as soon as they come.”

He had to smile, recalling his own early adventures.  “Nothing compares to the letdown after sex — for teenage boys.  The  Romans even had a name for it.”

Her eyes rounded.  “The letdown?  If that’s so, boys are worse than creeps!”

The smile became a chuckle.  “You ought to catch one and teach him.”

Tame him, you mean.”  Her voice was distracted.  “Oh, god, Ralph!”  She froze, head thrown back.  After a moment she shivered, sighed and grinned at him.  “That was a good one.”

“An anal orgasm?”

“Mostly clit.”  She raised her buttocks before lowering them again.  Now the enclosure was soft and very wet.  Immediately her hips began to slide forward and back.  His organ struck limiting flesh at both extremes.

“Shelley, you didn’t … ah …”

“Now you’re in my pussy.  You can’t tell?”

“That’s dangerous, Shelley.  Germs from the rectum can cause trouble —”

“They’re my germs!  This feels good, Ralph.  Ooo, yeah, fuck me hard!”

“I don’t want to hurt you?”

“You don’t believe in hurting girls?”

“I’ll go a long way to avoid it.”

“A pussy’s tougher than it looks.  Harder, do it harder!”

He endeavored to comply, hands enclosing her buttocks.  Her arms encircled his neck.  On forward surges her pointy breasts slammed into his chest.  Her eyes stared glassily past him.  She gasped and moaned with a rising inflexion.  The effect was powerful.  To his surprise he felt his own pleasure peaking.

His moans and hers combined harmoniously.  As if feeling the ejaculate, she froze again, arching her back and squeaking in a tight throat.  After a moment she sagged upon him, belly to belly and cheek to cheek, her chin hooked on his shoulder.

He rubbed her panting back.  She sighed.  “Oh, god, Ralph, that was so fine!  Your dick feels good in there.  You don’t notice any letdown, do you?”

“No, dear.  I got over that years ago.  And I have to say, you’re a hot little number, Shelley, a real fox.”

“Good as Sharon?”

“Well, now …”

She grinned.

He said hesitantly, “Speaking of Sharon … what … are you going to tell her?”

“That she’s right: you can come twice in an hour.”

His eyes widened dramatically.  “Wh-what?  You’ll tell her what?”

The grin became a giggle.  She raised her head to note his reaction.  Suddenly her eyes stared past him over his shoulder and her expression became curiously possessive.

A familiar voice behind him declared, “I’m glad to hear it.”

He threw the girl back, forcing her to stand, and rose to his feet while closing the robe over his body.  Twisting around, he faced Sharon — and her mother, Sheila.  The two women had apparently entered from the hall, silent on the thick carpet.

“Urk!” he squeaked, face aghast.

They wore negligees and slippers.  Sheila was more voluptuous than her daughters, but all three were pretty women much alike.

Shelley, standing nude beside him, was untroubled.  “How long have you been home?  How’s Aunt Della?”

Her mother answered the second question.  “We found her pills.  She’s sleeping off that bastard.”

Sharon answered the first.  “Long enough to change clothes and find you out of bed.”  Her eyes danced.  “Aren’t you glad to see me, Ralph?”

He squeaked again but squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and replied, “I am if you’re glad to see me.”

The newcomers had drawn near the back of the couch.  Sharon said solemnly, “I’m always glad to see you, honey.”

“Even … even …”

“Even if you’ve hurt my baby?” said Sheila.  She looked Shelley up and down.  “You don’t look hurt.  Are you?”

“No,” said the youngest.  “Ralph doesn’t believe in hurting girls.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked him.”

Sheila chuckled wryly.  “Ralph, is there any doubt in your mind who seduced whom?”

“No, ma’am.  But that doesn’t matter, does it?  She’s underage.”

“It matters.  I’m glad she started it.”  The woman chuckled again.  “What were you doing?”

“Reading my math journal, when she … when …  Mrs. Martin, I’ll leave your house as soon as I can.”

Both women frowned.  Shelley sniffed.

The mother said, “Why would you do that?  And call me Sheila.”

“Because …  You mean you’re not upset about …”

“About you balling my baby — both my daughters?  They evidently like it, Ralph, which is what really matters.  They’re both on the pill.  And so am I.”

Her eyes twinkled at his stricken expression.  She gestured toward the game table.  “Let’s sit down and discuss this like reasonable adults.  Shelley, put on your nightgown and bring us the chardonnay.”

Once again in flannel, the girl departed the room while the women took seats at the table.  With a shrug he sat also, about equidistant from each and waited with resignation.

Sheila laughed.  “Cheer up, Ralph!  No one’s going to accuse you — of anything except loving my daughters.  That’s correct, isn’t it?”

“I, uh … well …”  He felt heat on his face.

Both women chuckled but not in derision.  Sheila said fondly, “You do blush prettily!  But it’s nothing to be ashamed of; they’re pretty girls.”

“Y-yes, ma’am — Sheila — they are.  B-but …”

The woman gestured.  “Shelley has had a few zits, appropriate to her age, but they’re clearing up nicely.”

Sharon grinned.  “You should’ve seen me at fifteen.”

“Her face was awful,” the mother agreed, “but look at her now.”

He sighed.  “I don’t care about zits, just that she’s the right age to have them.  I guess … I’ve got to throw myself on your mercy.”

 Sheila’s eyes twinkled.  “You’ll find that we’re very merciful, Ralph.”

“Then …”  He squared his shoulders.  “What are you going to do about it?”

“About you letting her seduce you?”  She shook her head.  “I think you’d have to go to the city, Ralph, to find a house with less sexual hang-ups than this one.  I don’t interfere with my daughters’ educational experiments —”

“Mama!” cried Sharon, frowning.

The mother sniffed impatiently.  “He’ll figure it out soon if he hasn’t already.  I was about to say, in fact I encourage them.  Shelley knows as much, I expect, as the average college coed.  She’s very forward, true, but modern girls are, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

He thought that over.  “Then you don’t see any problem with what happened?”

She grinned.  “Specifically, I don’t think less of you — just the opposite.”

He breathed deeply in relief but turned to Sharon.  “How about you?”

Her eyes were warm.  “You don’t know how pleased I was when you proposed we should be an item but nonexclusive.  I’m curious, Ralph.  Why did you want that?”

“I … uh … thought it would be more attractive for you.”

Her eyes widened.  “For me?  Why?”

“Less of a commitment, easier for you to accept.”

She stared at him and said solemnly, “You were right: it was easier, though perhaps not for the reason you think.”

Shelley returned with a hand tray containing four wine glasses and two tall bottles.

He ignored her while she poured the wine.  “What was the reason?”

Her mother answered.  “This house needs a man, Ralph.”

He blinked at the woman, who continued, eyes locked on his, “We all need a man.”

A man?”

The implications imparted a surge of warmth.  All three females stared at him.  Shelley, having filled two glasses, paused with the bottle mouth over the third.

Sheila said gravely, “Yes, Ralph: one man who can love us all.”

He goggled.  “But that …  Do you mean …”

“I mean everything that love implies.”

Studying her closely for the first time, he supposed her to have reached the early forties despite looking younger.  Her face was smooth and the auburn hair contained no gray, though both effects could be more art than nature.  Her teeth were perfect.  Full breasts lifted her thin negligee with large nipples faintly visible.  The skin of her forearms was smooth and hairless.

He sat up straighter.  “Sheila, this is beginning to sound like a proposal.”

“In a sense it is.”  She smiled.  “A bit like the Mormons.”

“But … they gave up polygamy.”

“Oh, no, they didn’t!  A Mormon marries a woman.  Then her sisters move in, related or not, and all of them begin bearing his babies.”

By now the warmth filled his chest.  He stared around at the three females.  “My god!”

“I believe you’re interested,” noted Sheila with a grin.

“This could be —  But, my god, do the three of you mean it?”

“We mean it,” declared Sharon.

“B-but …”  He heaved a sigh.  “It’ll be years before I can contribute to the household.”

Sheila smiled.  “All we need is your love.  We’re not rich, Ralph; we can’t shower you with sport cars.  You’ll have to graduate and buy your own.  But we’re comfortable and we can certainly take you in.”

He took a deep breath.  “I’m not a fool.  If this is a proposal, I accept.”

The three females laughed warmly.  “Wonderful!” declared Sheila.  She rose to her feet, threw off her negligee and came around the table with arms spread wide.  Her body was voluptuous perfection.  “As oldest I think I should be the first to kiss you.”

“Oh, yeah!”  He stood up, grinning.  “And the rest of the loving.”

Arms around his neck, she murmured, “When you’re ready, my bed’s large enough for four.”

After awhile they toasted each other with the wine.

Contact: kellis@dhp.com