My Alice was always a bit odd.
When my dear departed spouse Hyacinth first remarked on her strange ways, I took it all a bit tongue-in-cheek, thinking it was just some sporadic quirkiness on Alice’s part. The poor thing never did fully fit into our conventional household and the entire neighborhood was on her shit list from the very first day of our fostering her into womanhood. Her teenage years were filled with one escapade after another and my wife was the first to admit that she was a difficult row to hoe and still manage to keep a straight line.
It was Hyacinth that had picked the tiny little darling out from a listless line-up at the orphanage. I was somewhat noncommittal about the entire affair, not particularly desirous of adding another member to our family like going to the store and looking for a bargain. Of course, it was only later that we both came to the realization that this was a transaction that had no guarantees and that returns were not good form no matter how justified.
My attention was caught by the fact that the headmistress seemed relieved that we had taken Alice off her hands and that a number of the other boys and girls were smiling almost as much as she, when she walked out the front door with her little suitcase in her hand. Since it was truly a dismal environment, I could identify with the fact that anybody in their right mind would be ecstatic to be shut of the place and welcome any change of scenery as an improvement to their situation.
Right from the first, Alice showed her skills in manipulating both of us into doing her bidding and guiding us into a relationship that played one of us against the other giving her all the cards to get what she wanted. At that early age, it was perceived as cute and endearing, but after she passed her sixteenth birthday, both Hyacinth and I construed it as a form of reverse abuse and were unable to break the cycle of following Alice’s whims like puppets on a string.
At the time of my wife’s passing, I was in my mid-fifties and was beginning to show my acceptance of a mature lifestyle that certainly didn’t include either romance or passion. My wife and I had been married for almost thirty years at that time and I had been contented with her dutiful nocturnal submission taking comfort in the convenient availability of female flesh to pound at my leisure whenever the urge arose in the privacy of our own bedroom.
The last ten years our love-making was curtailed somewhat because of the proximity of little Alice’s bedroom and we did not want to expose her to the weaknesses of the flesh before it was time for her to take part in normal sexual relations with a partner of the opposite sex. Now, of course, these days, the gender mix of the relationship is far more varied and open and it was as if we were suddenly creatures from another planet used to relating only to heterosexual relationships as the only normal route to culmination of tingling release.
It was with some surprise that I walked into little Alice’s bedroom on the day of Hyacinth’s funeral and saw her face down in the pillows with her pretty backside up in the air and being licked by none other than my Aunt Rose. The sight of Aunt Rose still wearing her eyeglasses and with her tongue flicking my Alice’s cunny with serious intent shocked me. Of course, it also aroused me to the point that I found my hand wandering down to my crotch to test the awakening hardness of my instant erection.
Aunt Rose was licking with determined dexterity, her tongue buried repeatedly in Alice’s pretty vagina. At that time, Alice was still allowing her cunt to remain untouched by a razor and her wild bush was all over Rose’s still attractive face like a damp brush that must have tickled her senses.
I should mention here that the aforementioned Aunt Rose was not really my aunt, but actually the live-in companion of my actual Aunt Louise. Aunt Louise was right on the verge of turning seventy and she still kept up the pretense of friendship with the younger Aunt Rose who was about my same age and almost twenty years younger than her doting mentor. They had started living together about the same time I was married and we were both in our twenties at the time. I remembered that I had quite the crush on Aunt Rose and often pictured it was her underneath me on my honeymoon instead of my obedient wife.
Drawing near to Aunt Rose’s rear end, I saw my little Alice patting Aunt Rose on the top of her perfectly arranged hair and telling her,
“A little deeper, dear, I like it when it is nice and juicy with your saliva.”
Alice groaned sensually when Aunt Rose followed her instructions to the letter.
She looked up at me standing right behind Aunt Rose and with my hand obviously around my rock hard cock.
I saw the smile cross her face and I knew she was into one of her never-ending games to manipulate people into following her demands
“Don’t turn around, dear, my Papa is behind you and I think he wants to fit his cock into your wet cunt. Just spread your cheeks with your hands when he pulls down your drawers and takes aim on your pretty vagina just waiting for a nice tumble whilst you continue to lick me into a state of complete orgasm.”
I decided to play along because it was an opportunity that I had been waiting for a long time.
It was easy to get Aunt Rose’s bloomers down and I knew the deal was sealed when she reached back with both hands and pulled apart her cheeks so I could get a clear shot at her nicely trimmed pussy from behind.
My little darling Alice kept the mature woman’s face buried in her cunt and Rose was unable to look behind her to see me slowly begin to rub my impatient dick on her pretty camel-toe target peeking out at me from under her delicious heart-shaped ass. I have to be perfectly honest and tell you that sliding into that mysterious depth of the mature woman’s female wetness was one of the most satisfying moments of my sexual journey.
Suddenly, I was bouncing off of Aunt Rose’s Yoga firmed cheeks with an energy I hadn’t felt for quite some time. My Alice leaned forward and kissed me full on my lips with her teenaged tongue as she pushed poor Aunt Rose’s captured head deeper into her womanhood. The three of us were like a single animal joined at sensitive points taking and giving pleasure in a circle of lust that consumed us like the hottest fires of hell.
At nineteen years of age, Alice was a ripe and tempting thing with absolutely no scruples about doing the most outrageous acts of deviant behavior just to spin her web about some poor male or female with an obsession for some seldom seen fetish scorned by most of the hard-fucking public.
I accidently came across an article in a terrible woman’s magazine whilst my spouse was still breathing that described in great detail exactly what constituted the making of a Sociopath in today’s society.
At that time, she was seventeen going on eighteen and I knew that in a few months she would be considered an adult and able to make her own decisions in a real and legal sense. Still, I consulted an expert in that particular mental affliction in order to guide my actions in attempting to push poor Alice in the right direction. The last thing I wanted to see was her falling into the chaos of criminal or deviant activities sealing her doom for the remainder of her life.
I guess it was at that point, I realized that I actually loved little Alice as a father to his daughter, as a friend to a friend and most importantly, as a lover to his beloved. There was no sense of guilt in my mind about the sin of incest because Alice was a stranger when we first met and adopted by us to foster her into a world of confusing values. Neither my wife nor I had any suspicion that she was anything other than normal and we had assumed that her mental facilities were as perfect as her beautiful body that seemed to grow more tempting every day.
I studied the elements that made up the thinking of the average sociopath and discovered that their thinking was entirely self-centered and that they felt absolutely no guilt at manipulating those around them to meet their every desire and obey their every whim. At the same time, they were sublimely skilled at imitating a perfectly normal person with actual emotions and respect for the other person’s feelings whilst hiding their complete disregard for actual honesty.
I guess that was why on the day of my spouse’s burial that I bonded with Alice in our mutual taking of Aunt Rose pretending that I was being manipulated by her to feed her need for absolute control.
Rose was a bit of a deviant bitch, if the truth be known, and she was ripe for accepting the most outrageous demands on her body. We enjoyed our use of her attractive body to humiliate and degrade her far beyond the norm of common decency. After that harsh beginning, we had Aunt Rose to play with whenever time permitted and she proved to be both resilient and eager to obey our every command. It was at a time when her housemate was better satisfied with a glass of sherry after dinner and taking a good book to bed instead of a playmate for games of the flesh.
I made certain to keep a tight check of all of our financial affairs except for those baubles and gifts that young Alice managed to squeeze from her many older and married acquaintances that were drawn to her sexual beauty like moths to the flame. I discovered that the older the gentleman, the more depraved their relationship and, in all honesty, it made a lot of sense because some of those decrepit wrecks could only use their fingers or their tongues to express their urges to consume any female’s goodie locker.
Eventually, I came to realize that Alice was in need of at least two partners in the ultimate consummation of the sex act and she preferred it focused on her pretty posterior rather than the normal feminine folds held in such esteem by the general hard humping public. I must admit, I found that perfectly delightful because I was never as alive and happy as to be up inside her brown eye watching the changing look on her face as I plumbed her anal depths with my rock-hard cock like an explorer looking for a good landing site to cast anchor. Her ass was a portrait in perfection and she never tired of sticking it up high for the deepest insertion possible. We made a good team because she would find the prettiest young things imaginable and invite them over for an overnight stay that invariably found them entwined together in her canopied bed with only a single candle to light their sinful union. I usually timed my arrival to that point when the pretty young things were on the verge of total release and managed to insert my business with little objection as they shuddered in submission to their normal carnal desires.
I noticed that Alice was becoming more demanding of our visitors and she seemed more and more taken with inducing pain into the agenda getting off on the screams and sobs that would make a normal person a bit more compassionate in the treatment of sensitive areas of the body.
We seldom made a male the object of our carnal delights in a nocturnal setting, but sometimes would include one if accompanied by a particularly delicious little morsel of female flesh that made my crotch bulge with excitement. It actually didn’t bother me to see another man thrusting deeply into my Alice’s sweet bottom providing I had a suitable pair of female buttocks writhing hither and yon between my legs like some silly schoolgirl learning how to take it in that place that all the priests told them was the dwelling place of the devil himself.
I was not worried at all about her falling in love with some handsome young prince with a cock that would satisfy her and harem of some size as well. She was not into love or romance and only saw sex as a means to get that tingle that made her sleep better and allowed her to manipulate her partners into complete loyalty to her beautiful flesh. That was just fine with me because my little sociopath was easy to read and I liked her just the way she was in each morning, noon and night.
When we looked in the mirror side by side, I am certain she saw me as her loyal servant and I had no doubt she would sell me down the river if a better opportunity came along.
We were looking forward to the first warm days of spring to organize our trip to Venice.
I wondered how my little sociopath Alice would take to the romantic Italian males with their beguiling thoughts of love and endless passion in the afternoon hours. I was ready to offer her up to some daring young lads providing they came with female side benefits to distract me from my sweet Alice’s joys of the flesh. It was time to expand her manipulation talents and test her unemotional ability to control those around her. I will report on our expedition on the next installment.
