The Bradford Family Saga (end)
“Penny for your thoughts,” Marsha said quietly.
“Oh, Hi, honey. Did I wake you?”
Marsha shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching your face for a
couple of minutes. I think I know what you were dreaming about.” There was a
wicked gleam in her eye. “You were reliving it, weren’t you?”
Carol just smiled.
“God, that was hot! Is it always that way?”
“No. Just at special times, like then. I’ve had three- ways before,” she said
nonchalantly, “but this time was something else.”
“Because it was family?”
Carol looked at her lovely daughter, an image of her younger self, smiled and
kissed her lightly. “Yes,” she said, “because it was family.”
*************************
Mr. and Mrs. Goodman sat on their veranda and listen to the tinkle of laughter
coming over the wall from the Bradford pool area.
“They certainly seem to be enjoying their reunion. That really was a nice party,
wasn’t it, Arnold? They’re such a lovely family.”
“Yes, it was, Mildred. You don’t see that kind of togetherness anymore, not
much, anyway. Makes me wish our kids were more like theirs.”
“You’re right, dear, they do seem to have something special.” Mrs. Goodman
paused, then turned to her husband.
“I wonder what their secret is?”
THE END
********************************************************************************
I hope you have enjoyed The Bradford Family Saga. All feedback is appreciated.
I can be reached @ [email protected].
Look for more of my stories to be published here, including:
The Wilson Family Saga – A multi-family story of a young man’s sexual journey through his family and his friends. Incest and Interracial theme.
The Princess Steps Out – The kidnapping and sexual abuse (?) of the Princess of Wales
by African Freedom fighters. Note: This story was written many years ago before the
world assigned sainthood to the lady in question. So if your an anglophile please
refrain from negative comments; afterall, it’s just fiction. Celebrity and Interracial
themes.
The Group – The Institution for Alternate Living invites individauls who engage in
consentual incess to discuss the who and whys of their lives.
The Amourous Adventures of the Brady Bunch – The adult Bradys gather for a family
reunion … enough said.
Conversations with a Church Lady – Under hypnosis, the wife of a leading church figure
tells a very different story. Interracial theme.
BONUS EXCERPT: “Potion”
“It’s a real aphrodisiac! I’m telling you it’ll work!”
nerdy Walter Newman gushed.
Sneering, Luther Vaughn, a muscular young black man,
grabbed young Walter’s shirt and violently pushed him up
against a sink. They were in the locker room of the boy’s
gym at South Regional High School.
Walter’s thick glasses almost flew off his blotchy nose.
Walter had a bad case of teenage acne, which was one of the
many reasons he was preoccupied with sex. He didn’t have any
real hope of getting laid, not the way he looked.
“There ain’t no such fuckin’ thing, you fuckin’ dweeb!”
Luther screamed in his face, “And besides, you brainy mother-
fuckin’ jackass, I didn’t pay you to make no bullshit
aphrodisiac, I paid you to make knock-out drops; a good
Mickey Finn! You’re really pissin’ me off, Newman!” He
pushed the young man away in disgust.
“But Luther,” Walter whined, “I can always make knock-
out drops, but this is for real!” He held up a flask of
clear liquid and an audio cassette and rushed on.
“Look, this is a very strong muscle relaxant and
tranquilizer. Give a girl a couple of drops of this and she
becomes very suseptible to suggestion.” He held up the tape.
“Subliminal, hynotic suggestion hidden behind soothing
beach sounds! It’s foolproof! She’ll be begging to fuck her
and afterwards she won’t remember a thing!
“Com’on, Luther, let’s try it!”
Walter jumped when Luther grabbed the vial and tape and
threw them in a refuse can. Surprisingly, the vial didn’t
break.
“Fuck your mumbo-jumbo, asshole!” the black teenager
sneered. “I don’t have problem one gettin’ pussy; black,
brown or white! And for a smart motherfucker you got shit
for brains! Even if that stuff worked, which it don’t; you
think chicks are gonna drink that shit and listen to some
dumbass tape just so a fuckin’ nerd like you can get into
their pants? NOT!”
He grabbed Walter’s shirt again and pushed the smaller
boy towards the locker room door.
“Now get the fuck back to the lab and get to work makin’
my knock-out drops, or I’ll break every motherfuckin’ bone in
your body.”
The door closed nosily behind them but Johnny Wilson
could still hear Luther berate Walter as they walked down the
hall. The fifteen year old peeked around the corner of the
lockers and made sure the coast was clear. The last thing he
wanted was a confrontation with Luther Vaughn. He was bad
news. A broken sneaker lace had held him up after class
making him an unseen witness to Luther and Walter’s crazy
conversation.
An aphrodiaiac! Boy, Johnny thought, Luther’s right,
Walter’s out of his lovin’ mind! That kind of stuff was out
of x-rated science fiction, or Walter’s wishful imagination.
Johnny knew there were two schools of thought concerning
Walter Newman. The first was, he’s was a boy genius and will
win the Nobel for chemistry before he’s twenty-one. The
second was, he’s a dipshit who’s gonna blow himself (and
probably the school, too) to fuckin’ smithereens.
Johnny picked up the vial and tape from the refuse bin
and cautiously looked them over. On impulse, he put the vial
in his pocket, then pulled out his Walkman and slid the tape
in and, holding the headset away from his ears, gingerly
listened. All he could hear was soothing surf sounds. He
waited a moment. If there were secret messages hidden in the
tape he hadn’t heard them. He shook his head but put the
tape in his rutsack and ran off to the lab. He was already
late.
“You’re late, John!” Mrs. Tarr said testily when he
entered the lab. “Are you trying to add to your detention?
If you are you’ve come to the right place.”
Mrs. Tarr was the one of the chemistry teachers and up
to now John thought she was kind of nice, and not bad looking
for an old woman; she was about his mother’s age, but he
hadn’t realized she had a wicked tongue.
“Eh, sorry, Mrs. Tarr. I broke a shoelace and had to
get another.”
Two girls in the corner giggled. Johnny blushed with
embarassment.
Mrs. Tarr made a face and shook her head. “If you two
are finished,” she said to the girls, “take off, and you,
John, get to work. This lab’s a mess and I want it spotless.
Maybe this will teach you that spitballs in the cafeteria
will not be tolerated.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny replied.
The two girls giggled loudly as they left and Johnny’s
face burned even brighter. Grudgingly, he went to the sink,
ran water, then went around picking up dirty test-tubes and
beakers.
“When you have those things soaking, get me a cola from
the lab refrigerator,” Mrs. Tarr commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Johnny was rapidly revising his opinion of the chemistry
teacher, but as he took a bottle of cola from the
refrigerator a sudden brainstorm hit him. Why not? he asked
himself. It had to be tested. Not that it was really going
to work, but if it did wouldn’t that put this bad-mouth bitch
in her place. Quickly he took the vial from his pocket,
opened the cola and put two drops of Walter’s potion into the
dark liquid.
John grabbed a clean glass, put ice in it and was
pouring cola into it when Mrs. Tarr asked what was keeping
him. She took the glass and thanked him, rather reluctantly
John thought.
He smiled at her as she took a deep drink.
“Is there something you want, John?” she asked.
Johnny smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you’d listen to
this tape. The background is suppose to help you
consentrate more. I thought it could help me with my
homework and stuff,” he said offering his Walkman to her. “I
just want your opinion.”
Mrs. Tarr put the headphones on and said, “Only for a
moment; I’m busy. Besides, these things are usually a rip
off.”
“Thanks,” Johnny said and poured more cola into her
glass. Absently, she took another sip as she listened to the
soothing sounds of the seashore. A few moments later she pulled
the headset off and shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, it doesn’t do anything for me, but you can never
tell, it may help you to concentrate. Give it a try.”
The distain in her voice told Johnny that Walters’
bullshit aphrodisiac was just that: Bullshit! She had drank
the potion and listened to the tape. Nothing! Nada! Zip!
Johnny mumbled his thanks and went back to the sink and
started cleaning the dirty beakers again. He felt pretty
foolish. He wanted to throw the vial away but his hands were
wet. He’d wait until he was finished and then chuck the shit.
Leroy was right!
A moment later he froze as a hand reached around and
cupped his cock and balls.
“Hi, big boy,” a husky voice whispered hotly in his ear,
Wanna fuck?”
Johnny’s mouth gaped and his eyes bugged. His chest
tighten and his head started pounding. Mrs. Tarr’s tits
rubbed senuously over his shoulder blades
****************************************************************8
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