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A Homecoming. Chapter 11.

Ben did not have long to wait for an answer. It arrived shortly before dinner. To his relief, Christine did not appear to be too upset about his betrayal. Her text read:

To Ben: – “E. could not stop talking about the wild sex she had this afternoon. She wanted to make me envious. She did!! She also told me about the extra photos you have of us. Please, transfer all of them to our Pad. Telling E. about our secret was naughty, but I’ll get even. Will show her the photos tomorrow morning on the computer, before her shift, with no people around. She will see what fun you and I had on the bed!!? Sweet revenge! C.”

After dinner, Ben downloaded both of the desired folios to Christine’s and Erika’s Pad. In the text, Ben wrote:

To Cristine: “Attached are your folios. Hope you like yours. E. got very stirred up and aroused by your sexy dress, especially in the shot where you lounge on the bed. I wish I could be there tomorrow morning and watch when E. looks at the complete(!!) bedside folio. Hope you forgive me for not keeping it a secret. But should there be secrets between us three? B.”

To this question came no reply, and Ben went somewhat disappointed to bed. But next morning, his iPad pinged, and two texts required an immediate response. The exchange that followed answered unequivocally the queries Ben had harboured about his relationship with Erika and Christine:

To Ben: – “She must lend me that dress!! E.”

To Ben: – “I will not, unless … C.”

To Christine: – “Unless what?? B.”

To Ben: – “Unless she lends me in exchange her sexy undies, and … C.”

To Christine: – “And what?? B.”

To Ben: – “We wear it while we are together on the bed with you!!? C.”

To Erika: – “And you agree? B.”

To Ben: – “After sharing this sinful dress and these sexy undies, we naughty sisters have agreed to share, from now on, EVERYTHING! E.&C.”

To Erika & Christine: – “How could I ever resist you, especially combined!!! When?? B.”

To this question, Ben did not expect an answer. Christine did not give him the usual wave in passing the office on his way down for breakfast. Grinning broadly, she brought both hands up to her lips and sent him a kiss. Surprised, Ben gave her a feeble wave which made Christine break out in laughter.

As it was early, there was only one couple at breakfast, and their table was at the other end of the room. When Erika served him, she stood even closer than last time. When her hip nudged his arm, Ben moved his hand up between her thighs until his thumb pressed onto Erika’s pussy. Without looking up, he murmured, “I loved your sexting this morning. See what it does to me.”

In reply, Erika bent over to refill Ben’s cup. One breast came to rest on his cheek, and Erika’s thighs closed firmly with a rubbing caress over Ben’s marauding hand.

On his way back to his room, Christine waved Ben into the office. She thanked him, first, for transferring the complete folios to their iPad. When she told him how much she liked all the photos he had taken, she asked Ben why his photography was so good. He replied that he had some training and had, as an amateur photographer, exhibited his work.

But then, embarrassed about boasting, he laughed and added, “But with two such beautiful, sexy, naughty sisters, how could I fail?”

For a moment, Christine hesitated before she said, “Erika and I have always known that we are not ugly and that men wanted to get their hands on us. But, until we saw these photos, we had no idea what we could be for a man that loves and desires us like you.”

A blush had crept on Christine’s face. It stayed there as she changed the subject and told Ben that she would accompany them tomorrow on the weekend excursion to Gerd’s hunting shack. She was interested, Christine said, about the rebuilding he and his mates were planning.

Gerd had not been keen on her coming along. Christine gave Ben a mischievous side-way glance and asked, “You are not upset that it is no longer a boys-only outing, are you?”


On Saturday morning, with Erika left in charge of the hotel, Ben and Christine joined Gerd in his Mercedes for the hour’s drive up to the valley. Gerd’s friends would join them on site.

Christine turned in her front seat for most of the drive to talk with Ben in the back. Gerd needed to concentrate on the narrow, winding road. While she told him about the opening-up of an additional ski-resort in the side-valley, the conflicting interests, and the politicking, her laughing eyes and tempting lips told a parallel tale. Christine, leaning back over her seat, was no longer just flirting.

When they arrived, the builder and friends were waiting. Gerd unlooked the door. The hut, solidly built with log walls and weatherproof windows and doors, had two large rooms. The front was furnished with a stove, a corner bench, chairs, a large table and a massive 19th Century credenza for supplies and utensils. The sleeping room adjoining was utilitarian. It had a raw board bench along one wall and a raised, eight-foot-deep platform along the opposite one. It was covered with thick hessian matting and could accommodate eight or – on a squeeze – ten sleepers. There was a pile of army blankets in one corner.

Christine had brought blankets from the hotel. While the men stayed outside, talking about the rebuilding task, Christine and Ben took their provisions inside. The foods’ place was a given. With the bedding, it got interesting. Ben placed his blankets at the platform’s end close to the wall, adding his backpack and tracksuit as a pillow. Christine watched and smiled. She spread out Gerd’s and her blankets.

And then, smiling at Ben with the tip of her tongue showing, Christine placed her pillow and tracksuit right next to his. Shifting Gerd’s bedding further away, she grinned at Ben, “I’ll be safe here, won’t I? Sleeping between the two loves of my life!”

At lunchtime, with the repast of ryebread, cheese and salami, the Schnapps-bottles appeared. As hunters and proud locals, the men had brought no other drinks into the mountain. Traditionally, the seventy per cent proof Schnapps guaranteed a wipe-out and took up little space and weight in their gear-packs. Ben was not allowed to refuse. He was not a spirits-drinker, and after two hearty sips, felt the effect. He would need to watch it!

In the afternoon, Gerd and friends stuck to their task: Measuring, drawing, arguing, photographing, calculating. Christine and Ben, clearly outsiders, went for a long, exploring walk. She took his hand and countered his Schnapps-induced wobble as they strolled laughing and chatting like an established loving couple. There was nothing untoward until later in the afternoon.

The September sun, still pleasantly warm, had set the valley aglow. Christine and Ben had on a rise, first sat down in the grass, and now they lay there, stretched out. When Ben opened his eyes, Christine was bent over him. He felt the tips of her breasts touching and moving against his chest. Christine’s lips were almost touching his as she asked, “I wonder if Erika is missing you this afternoon?”

And then she kissed him.

It was a questioning kiss: not too brief, but light in touch, ending with a mere suggestion of tongue brushing over his lips. Ben responded by pulling Christine close with his hand firmly on the roundness of her ass in her tight-fit jeans.

As Christine did not pull away from the feel of his rising erection, Ben decided on the most honest answer, “I hope she misses me and our wild, glorious sex and loving each other. Erika and I have something special. As you know, in our loving each other, we are catching up. With you and me, it’s a bit different, even if our sex would be wild and wonderful too. You know, Christine, don’t you, that I love you, desire you, almost as much as Erika. But there could never be an either you or her for me. I would never give up Erika.”

Christine sat up, hunched over her knees. Ben had now seriously acknowledged what they, she and Erika, had teasingly toyed with in yesterday’s sexting. But they had only jokingly promised a little ‘playing’ on the bed. Or did they, like Ben, desire to share fully? For the moment, she found no reply. So, Christine laughed and got up, holding out her hand for Ben to do likewise.

Ben and Christine found Gerd and friends sitting on the bench leaning against the hut’s wall. They had finished their day’s work and were pleased with what they had done. A bottle was passed, and glasses filled and refilled and toasts drunk. Ben, but not Christine, was invited to join and a shot-glass for him was found. When they were raised for a toast, Ben only sipped while the others drowned theirs. On sitting down on the end of the bench, he poured the rest on the ground. Then he listened as Gerd and the builder explained in detail how the hut would be rebuilt.

The men prepared the evening meal with much roaring laughter. It was a huge frying pan of bacon and eggs. Eaten with thick slices of rye bread to soak up the fat, they declared it the proper food to line their stomachs. Now the work was done, it was time for some serious drinking. By then, they were, Christine pointed out, already on their third bottle of Schnapps. “Who is counting?” guffawed Gerd.

He and the other blokes no longer noticed that Ben had stopped matching them shot by shot by then. When they brought out the playing cards, there was a moment’s hesitation. The builder, not Gerd, looked at Christine and Ben and asked if they wanted to play poker. The others were silent. It was not the game they favoured but with six, what else could they play? There was a sigh of relief when the outsiders – hardly any of the men, including Gerd, had spoken to Christine all day – left them to play their foursome.

Christine cleaned up and washed the dishes. Ben eventually got up. He complained he had too much to drink. Putting on a show, he staggered outside for a piss and cold wash in the trough. On returning to the room, the light of the one kerosene lamp over the table made it easy for Ben to stay in the shadows. His plea that he did not feel too well after all the Schnapps and better bed down was – with suppressed laughter – condescendingly believed by the hard-drinking card players.

Christine lent him a flashlight, giving him a quick smile and wink. So, Ben made for his pallet in the corner of the other room and an unlikely early night.

Ben knew Christine expected him to wait for her. They had not exchanged a word about what would happen. Yet Ben was sure that they were in silent collusion, that somehow it would be their night. He left the ultimate choice of what they would do to Christine. Everything was out in the open between the three of them. As Ben thought about all the possibilities that were, perhaps, in the offering, he stretched out. Pleasantly aroused, he waited for her in the dark.

Half-an-hour or so had passed before Ben saw a dull flow of light coming from the briefly opening door. Then there were her light footsteps and the touch of her hand on his leg. And then her murmuring, “You have my flashlight, Ben?”

She had slid up next to him, and her hand had stolen under the blanket. Christine suppressed a giggle as she touched Ben’s erection. She whispered, “You keep the flashlight. You’ll turn it on for me to undress, won’t you?” Christine giggled, “After all, you have only photographed me dressed. You want to see me now naked, don’t you? If somebody comes, turn the flashlight off quickly.”

Then she moved away, and the darkness was charged with expectations.

Ben found the flashlight. Gripping its round shape, he turned on his side, resting it on the mating close to his chest. At the slightest sound of intruders, Ben could pull the light under the blanket. Then he pressed the button.

Christine, just out of reach in the softly reflected light, sat on top of her bedding. She looked at him, smiled, had been waiting. They were in unspoken unison. There was not going to be anything accidental about Christine’s stripping and Ben’s watching. Or about what could follow.

Christine now bent forward, took off her shoes, dropped them to the ground. Then, getting on her knees and sitting back, she half-turned to him. Unhurriedly at ease, it appeared, Christine reached for the seam of her top and pulled it up and off over her head. When she shook her head to flatten her messed-up hair, her tits jiggled provocatively in the cups of her bra. Christine now grinned. As she reached behind her back to unclasp it, she pursed her lips in an air-kiss in Ben’s direction. And then, throwing the bra aside, Christine turned fully towards him.

She slowly slid her hands up from her belly under her firm, lovely breasts to present them to Ben. He drew in his breath as he looked at them in their sexy, stiff-nippled glory. And a moan of pleasure escaped Christine at the saucy joy welling up in her pussy. Now, she could show Ben, next to her with his hard-on, the vibrant beauty her husband had never seen.

When Christine shifted to a sitting position, her hands searched over the blanket. Then she smiled. Her tracksuit – she had, for a moment only, turned prim and searched for the top – was still in her pack. Christine quickly decided, blushing in her excitement, to stay naked to the last. And Ben, his hand clasping the turned-on flashlight, had not moved.

Christine lay back. Stretched out, her stiffly excited nipples pointing in the air, Christine undid the belt on her jeans and the zip on the side. Then she lifted her backside and worked the tight denim down to her ankles and, finally, loose. Now only in her panties, Christine turned towards Ben. Her hand reached for his face. Her fingers found and slid into his mouth as she whispered, “Do I excite you? If you want me, show me how much!”

And her fingers, buried in his mouth, played an all-suggesting game with his caressing tongue.

Eventually, Christine withdrew her hand. With her face turned to Ben to watch him look, she stretched out. And then she began to strip her panties, centimetre by centimetre, down over her blond-haired bush to her knees. Raising her legs high, Christine took them off only to place them over Ben’s face. Then she threw herself over the flashlight and Ben’s blanket-covered body.

Now in darkness, her hand rubbed her still warm panties over his face. When his lips were momentarily free, Ben found hers, and his tongue pushed into Christine’s mouth for a long, taking- and confessing-all kiss.

When they broke their kiss – Ben’s hands were arrested under the blanket, and he could not touch her alluring nakedness – Christine whispered, “I think you like my panties sexy smell. Too bad you can’t eat up my pussy now, as you do with Erika.”

It was Christine’s tongue that now demandingly invaded Ben’s mouth. His throaty moan and twirling tongue gave her the answer.

Christine rolled off. Kneeling upright, naked, she swayed for a moment in the flashlight’s on-again sheen, displaying her beauty. Then Christine bent over to look for her tracksuit. As she unzipped her bag, she looked back at Ben. His eyes devoured her. So, while her hands searched through the pack, wasting time, Christine had shifted closer to Ben. Before his eyes were the firm roundness of Christine’s beautiful ass. Her shapely thighs were spread slightly open, framing the mound of her pussy. Its slit glistened in arousal in the dim light.

All Ben could reach was Christine’s foot. As he stared and panted in frustration, Christine’s toes stretched and curled in the palm of his hand. But then, all too soon for him, she found her things. She sat up and slipped the top over her head. Then she rolled away from him. In one smooth move, her lifted legs slid into the pants, and the next second, she was under her blanket.

Turned on her side, she faced him across the gap and asked him for her flashlight. “You won’t need it anymore tonight. I may need it to bed down Gerd. He’ll be very drunk tonight. He’ll probably keep us awake with his snoring.” When Ben handed her the flashlight, Christine turned it off.

Now, safely in the dark, Christine could no longer control her attack of giggling. She half-slipped out from under her blanket to embrace Ben. With her mouth close to his ear, she whispered her regrets that they could not play now, “The fellows could come in, surprise us. They all have flashlights. But they are already pretty drunk. They’ll all sleep like logs. Soon, I hope.”

By then, Christine had shifted her ass in tempting reach. And Ben slipped his hand into Christine’s pants to make love to her sexily twitching buttocks. In the grip of arousal, Christine moaned into his ear, “We must wait, Ben. God, I hope not too long!”

Almost violently, Christine threw herself back on her part of the mattress.

They lay there on their assigned place, in the dark, breathing quietly, forcing down their acute state of arousal. When Ben stretched his hand in the separating gap, he found Christine’s reaching for his. They were one in their need for each other. Despite his determination to stay awake, the relatively little Schnapps he had not been able to refuse mastered him. Ben fell asleep, still holding Christine’s hand.

When the four men staggered in to bed down, they were still considerate enough to try – and failing – not to wake them, Christine quickly released Ben’s hand. Pretending to be deeply asleep, she turned her back on Gerd as he unlaced his boots and let them thump heavily on the floor. Without undressing any further, he drew the blanket over him. Now Ben was awake. The wait was nearly over.

Soon the regular breathing and occasional snore from the men told Christine they were safely asleep. Centimetre by centimetre, she crept closer to Ben. He, less sly and cunning than her, opened his arms to embrace her. Christine resisted but then kissed him hotly. She cradled his head and put her lips to his ear to whisper, “It’s too soon. I have to turn my back on you in case somebody wakes up.”

Christine turned away but sinuously ground her ass against Ben’s growing erection. And he risked sliding a hand under her loose top without grabbing Christine’s tempting tits. Instead, he began to caress the softness of her belly without his fingertips touching her bush. Then his fingers slid up her side into her armpits.

Ben lightly brushed over one of Christine’s perky nipples for a wonderful first time on the way down. Ben heard her sigh. She gripped his hand as it rested on her tensing belly. For a drawn-out moment, Christine’s feverish mind tried to decide: where would she guide Ben’s hand?

Should she leave it to him? What if his fingers dared to slide into her hot-wet cunt? There was only the soft cloth of her loose track-suit pants between his rock-hard cock and her ass pressing against its tempting feel. Would it then be only Ben’s fingers? What if he pulled down her pants and – God, why didn’t he – fuck her? Already now? They were thoughts that made Christine push her legs together over her throbbing pussy. But then Ben’s hand moved up onto a straining tit and tellingly aroused nipple.

When Christine’s slightly lifted to allow Ben’s other hand to cup the other breast, their bodies had moved close together. Gerd had not only begun to snore but, on being pushed by Christine, had turned away from them. Christine decided that now they were safe. She was not going to wait for Ben to take the initiative. Moving close, Christine rucked up her top and pushed her breasts into his face. As Ben’s mouth closed over one, her hand grasped his hair with a stifled moan.

As Christine’s fingers dug into Ben’s hair, his tongue and teeth on her nipple brought her close to the brink of orgiastic arousal. She bit hard into her lip to stifle all sounds of pleasure as she passed his devouring mouth from one tit to the other. The darkness, her desire for her sister’s lover, the danger of the nearby sleepers and, most of all, her drunken husband all combined. Christine had reached a hitherto unknown state of sexual hunger and arousal.

Eventually, Christine pulled Ben’s mouth from her boobs. She slid down without releasing the grip in Ben’s hair and fastened her lips on his for a wild, shameless, tell-all kiss. With her groin grinding against his painful erection, Ben slid his hand into Christine’s pants onto her twitching ass.

Under his caressing, her firm buttocks massaging grip, Christine allowed the cleft to spread open. So invited, Ben began to draw his fingertips and nails up and down the crack. In their kissing. Christine’s tongue went wild every time his nails passed over her ass’s rosette. She wanted to cry out her lust as her ass shivered and pressed against his invading hand. Then Ben’s fingers heightened their play. With the lightest, glide-through touch, their tips began to part the lips of Christine’s pussy. As her thighs spread open, she cried a silent ‘Yes’ into his mouth. Her tongue wrestled Ben’s in a demented dance as he stroked her hot-slippery pussy open.

Christine’s lips began to move, forming silent words up his cheek and onto his ear. Breathily, he almost had to guess, she whispered, “Ben, Ben! Fuck me! God, I want you! Want you now!”

As a finger slid deep into Christine, his mouth closed over her ear. He wanted so much more of her than a stolen fuck in the dark. He knew now how much more Christine would give. So, he whispered his seductive desires, in whispered, breathy bursts into her ear, “Christine! God, you are hot. I’m dying to make love to you! But I want more for us than a quick fuck in the dark. Not for our first time! I want hours with you, have you naked in my arms to touch and kiss every inch of you, your hungry mouth, your cheeky pointy tits, your hot pussy, your sexy ass! And then fuck you, again, and again! And I want to hear your moans, cries, your sexy song as we make love!”

Ben ran out of breath. He suddenly became aware, how hard and deep his fingers were fucking Christine while he poured out how he felt about her at this moment.

His words and no longer just probing fingers made Christine, Ben feared, gasp too audibly. And then Christine’s thighs ground his fingers into her hot-gushing cunt as an uncontrollable climax gripped her. Ben held her, at first jerking, then shivering body in a protecting embrace. Withdrawing his marauding hands from her pussy and ass, he stroked lovingly over Christine’s hair and face.

Then, he gently pulled up Christine’s pants and her top down over her breasts without knowing why. They sank into a comforting but – if somebody had switched on a light – utterly compromising cuddle. Like that, they fell, eventually, carelessly asleep.

When Ben woke up, the first morning light was in the dusty window. Christine had woken earlier. She rested now quite close to her husband, an unsuspicious distance from where she had fallen blissfully if only partially fulfilled, asleep in Ben’s arms. The men, one after the other, got up. All had slept in their clothes. They put on their shoes and went off to the toilet outside and a superficial wash in the water trough. Ben got dressed, but Christine stayed in her tracksuit and went to make breakfast.

The men were all hardened drinkers. Besides a somewhat morose silence and bloodshot eyes around the breakfast table, nothing pointed to the litres of Schnapps the four had consumed the day and evening before.

The morning visit by the group to the hut’s pit-toilet had alerted Gerd and the builder to a task undone yesterday. The refurbished hut/café required an adjoining washroom/toilet. With it, of course, a larger sewerage-pit and reliable water connection from the spring, now only feeding the trough outside. The men, agreeing on what had to be checked and measured. It was, most importantly, the soil depth for the pit and the spring’s flow. They went outside to complete the task.

As soon as they were out the door, Christine stepped behind Ben’s chair. Her eyes were on the window to check that nobody approached the door. Pushing her breasts, bare under the soft cloth of her tracksuit, against the back of Ben’s head, her hand caressed his face with a finger finding his mouth. Then she said, “God, weren’t we naughty last night. But Ben, did I love it! And then, you were too decent to fuck me! God, you saved me from myself!”

Christine burst into a laugh. Her free hand pulled the track-suit-top up over her boobs. Her body swaying, she started to rub their hardening tips through Ben’s hair. With a voice, now sexily low and teasing, she said, “I could take you to the back to watch me get dressed. But, seeing me naked in daylight, would you spare me again?”

With a peal of laughter, she skipped away. In the door to the backroom, she turned. Putting on a serious mien and voice, Christine said, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Gerd will need to be in Werfen overnight on Wednesday for a conference of the region’s hunt-owners. As you know, Erika is only on dayshift in our hotel. I hope for an interesting night. Somebody promised one!” 

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