Hey, what's up. Yeah, I know it's not Tabby's chapter but if you read my recent QTQ and I gave my reasons. You guys are still getting a chapter regardless. Consider this a passion project between the poll winners. Something to hold you guys over until then. Furthermore, it'll give other girls the spotlight who would never get a chance otherwise. Mrs. Gurdle was on my mind for months and Time Trap gave me more plausible reasoning. Also, Taylor aka Bully QT got a redesign implying the Louds time travel mission. I'm not using her new design. Her first design is too iconic to swap out unless it's a different girl named Taylor.
For Tabby's and Sweater QT chapter, I'm going the Warhammer 40k route. Lincoln is an Arbites aka the police while Tabby is a PDF or Planetary Defense Force member. Sweater QT is a Battle Sister
For Polly Pain and the other QT's, I'm still figuring it out but I have a base plot. Polly and Pandora will somewhat follow canon and my QTQ story like Polly getting over Rusty to pursue Lincoln and Pandora teasing him as they train.
Cookie and Brown QT too allowing me to expand on their characters. Cookie's parents were potential buyers of Mr. Grouse's house so I have a setup there and I can push that earlier in the timeline.
Everybody good? Great. I'll probably change my username after this chapter gets posted with another poll. The options I have in mind are the continuation of a previous chapter aka Shy QT, Cristina, and Girl Jordan. Yes, they already had their chapters but more can be done thus I can use background characters more. New sets of women for Lincoln to give the log. I'll give themes and then give the options if it wins now that I have a better way of outlining. Finally a multi-parter similar to what I did with Haiku and Alexandria. One of the ideas is stated in the prologue
Other things are ideas for Crystal Prison especially if you saw the commission art I got. Also, other stories besides my main three just to get some variety. I already have some in mind like Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja. It's a great method to get some plots out of the way, get a feel for them and for those that didn't make it into my main stories. That should be everything. Now the reviews
Bryan Pacheco: Making them Swingers was how I avoided negatively characterizing Lincoln or Jancey. It's all consensual and pre-planned so I don't have a write a fallout and create drama as a CW show
Pirohiko-Baltazar: Yes, it's still considered NTR but it's the acceptable NTR
JD1122/Mr. Haziq: Man, those scenes were intense and I kept the promise of my lemon scenes.
Tags: {Wife sharing(Netori) , Free use, Doggystyle, Petite, MILF, Discussion, Role-play(?), Femsub, Maledom, Reprogramming(?), Sloppy Toppy, Booty Call, and Ownership)
"Holy shit," Lisa groaned, plugging her juicy plump snatch. "Come on, what's the next universe," She pleaded, biting her lips and curling her toes. "I need more," The scientist groaned huskily, with a drop of drool escaping the corner of her lips.
"Of course, Dr. Loud," ISSAC replied. A loading screen appeared in front of her for a few seconds. "Oh, this is an interesting one," The screen illuminated after selecting a universe to view.
"Come on, don't leave me hanging," Lisa begged; her dildo rammed into her tight entrance like a piston. She moaned gutturally through her nose, reaching her limit. Lisa arched her head back, heaving with each thrust. Her love juices sprayed all over the desk while her thighs trembled with rapture. Lisa panted as she glared at the leaking pool. "Fuck damn it," She grumbled at the mess. "What's the data?" The researcher asked, getting a remote and pressing one of the buttons. An array of mechanical limbs appeared with cleaning supplies.
"We have another MILF," ISSAC acknowledged the request. "This time, it's Mrs. Gurdle,"
"Another swingers plot?" Lisa predicated. This makes it the second swingers' plot. However, each universe is similarly different. What makes this one unique? She pouted, questioning when Tabby would have her chapter. Hey, I'm going through writer's block and finally found something. Also writing these chapters helps fill the void between updates, keeping me motivated.
"Nope," ISSAC remarked. The two gazed at each other in tense silence.
She grumbled, frowning at the possibility. "...NTR," Lisa cringed at the accursed tag, hiking up her shoulders. We don't take too kindly to NTR around these parts. Expect when Lincoln is the one doing it. Maybe I should do a Lincoln revenge story where he fucks all of his friends' shipping mates and the women in their family.
Oh, shit, that's a multichapter event, so I have to do one friend a chapter depending on how many there are. Clyde has the most with Penelope, Haiku, Chole, and Grandma Gayle. I could add Lynn Jr. and Lori if I go with the Grouse's grandson route. Although I already did a Haiku chapter. Hattie, Tabby, and Mee-Maw for Liam. I'm already doing Mrs. Gurdle, leaving Giggles & Kat for Zach. Yes, Zach had a crush on Kat during the Girl Guru episode. Finally, Rusty with Polly, Sadie, and Katerine. God, that's a lot of girls, but I'll worry about it later. Besides, I'm writing the outline for some of these girls' chapters. However, with the sheer number of girls, I'll probably have to make it separate story.
"Technically no, but yes," ISSAC answered. "Remember the Time Trap incident?" He recalled Lisa's second time-traveling adventure.
Lisa facepalmed, recalling how the Gurdles thought her family, specifically her siblings were aliens after altering the timeline at their parent's wedding. "Yes," She mumbled, pondering what the conspiracy theorists would do in this universe. "What did they do?" Her hands massaged the sides of her temples as a deep annoyed sigh escaped her lips.
"It's a similar plot," ISSAC explained while Lisa rolled her eyes. "Instead, they think Lincoln is the alien,"
"The white hair and being the only boy," The scientist theorized on their scatterbrained logic. She already had her share of conspiracy theories.
"Affirmative," ISSAC confirmed her hypothesis. "They believe that he's here as some human/alien hybrid sent to repopulate or collect genetic samples for his species," The automated program explained the Gurdles logic. Oh, like what Omni-man did for his planet without demolishing his son's face with thousands of casualties and calling his spouse a pet. "So Mrs. Gurdle offered herself to satisfy his immense lust. Look at his parents," The computer acknowledged.
"Fair enough," Lisa replied blankly, thinking about the possible tags. "I'm thinking Free use," She rubbed her chin and pointed to the screen.
"Oh definitely," ISSAC smirked, flickering to a static screen. At the same time, Lisa leaned back into her gaming chair, waiting for the universe to play.
An overhead view of the married couple analyzing an evidence board littered with photos of Lincoln and his family throughout the years. wrote equations on her clipboard while her husband typed on his old school IBM computer from the nineties. You know the type. They can't risk outsiders hacking into their systems and deleting their files. The technological fossil ensures digital safety, lacking various modern components and gateways used by programmers. If someone wants their files, they better come directly to the source and evade their elaborate security system. Quick question. How the fuck were they able to afford complex machinery in their spacious garage? It's a miniature laboratory. It is a budget version of Lisa's facility yet deserves a degree of respect. Everything worked as intended. Their tools were scarred with labor, which spoke volumes about their dedication and mechanical expertise. I still want to know who sold them their equipment.
"Mhm," Mr. Gurdle adjusted his glasses, viewing the streams of information reflecting off the lenses across his organized set-up of computers. These ones were more modern, albeit around ten years old. Mrs. Gurdle transferred her data to one of the whiteboards. Her blue marker replayed complex formulas combined with diagrams. The department store and supermarket recently had a school supply sale, paying with cash, making their purchase untrackable. Numerous identity changes throughout their investigative years together taught them that.
She grumbled, removing one of her calculations with a nearby worn black eraser. "Shoots, forget to carry the six," The wife rewrote a new equation. She paused, checking her notes while her marker scratched the side of her head. Six? Recognition glimmered in her eyes as the lines connected. "Of course," She smirked, jotting down her discovery. Oh yeah, it's all coming together. Lincoln is the sixth child. The Loud parents would have another boy if they continued for twelve kids. Mr. Gurdle resumed his search, uncovering whatever information his rapid fingers and spirited eyes could process through multiple screens. That can't be good for his neck and eyes after multiple restless nights while cross-referencing dozens of search results across several browsers on his computers. Dude, I'm a writer. I've been there. The duo was content with the white noise of clicking computer keys and the low hum of various machinery bouncing off the durable deep gray concrete wall. These reinforced walls were soundproof, causing them an extra fortune. Nobody can hear them, unveiling the truth. Can't be too sure of who's watching them. My readers, bitch! Also, Lisa who's using this as masturbation material.
Furthermore, I need to find a name for you two. (Note: At the time I'm writing this. I'm currently looking for names because my editing software keeps correcting Gurdle into Girdle. It's a pain as several of them look promising.) Along with their supplies, the garage can quickly function as a bunker at the last moment in a societal fallout.
Samuel rubbed his eyes to clear his faint vision and stretched to ease his sore muscles. He shook the exhaustion away. No, must remain focused. They're creating breakthroughs. It took them years to reach the finish line. Yet that eludes them. Lincoln's the roadrunner to their Wily coyote. Something always goes wrong, preventing them from discovering the truth. Faulty equipment, blurry photos, and an oddly convenient obstruction or distraction. He's a lucky man. Maybe someone was protecting him but why, though? His hand grabbed this triple filtered glass of charcoal water, free from any mind-altering chemicals that the government approved to keep their complaint population. The balding red-headed used this moment of respite to document his findings from the trio of monitors and savor the smokey taste of his beverage. Next time, they'll add a dash of honey or a squirt of lemon for a more bearable taste. He frowned, scratching his head. What was he missing? Something popped up from his peripheral view. Samuel turned to the right, adjusting his spectacles as he leaned forward. Wait a minute. His frown flipped into a triumphant grin as he read the contents of his findings. "Babe, I think I found something," Samuel revealed to his darling wife with a single water trail down his chin. She paused, hopping over to the computers.
"What is it?" Elizabeth murmured, peeking over his shoulder with sparkling eyes. She squeezed his shoulder in anticipation. Finally, years of research have finally paid off. What are you hiding, Lincoln Loud?
"It's this," Samuel remarked, clicking the link. It's an article about the origins of Easter, myths, and legends about rabbits. A collage of essays and images reflected off their glasses as they scrolled through the pages. The pages reflected their glasses while their astonished eyes enlarged from the increasing stream of information.
"Oh shit," The couple muttered, clicking on the print feature. They stood before the massive bulletin board, attaching the paper to the evergrowing connections and similarities. Lincoln's hobbies, quirks, interests, relationships, and achievements. The pair nodded to create their final report.
The Gurdle's traversed the road in their van en route towards Lincoln's apartment. They stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. The couple had a stern expression with an office portfolio resting in Elizabeth's lap. Everything they needed was in that envelope. It took them over a decade with numerous drawbacks, but it's finally complete.
"Are you okay?" The couple asked the other before smiling at their synchronicity. "Yeah, I'm fine," Elizabeth confessed as Samuel grabbed her hand. She squeezed it in support. "Well, you think it'll be enough to confront Lincoln," She worried, examining the file. Someone in front of them blurred the horn, impatiently waiting behind the wheel.
"Come on; the light is green!" The person shrieked, poking their head out the car window. Samuel shifted his foot to the gas as traffic progressed. "Unlikely, but it'll make him sweat at the least," He rationalized, keeping their optimism but uncertainty anchored on his tongue. Will it be enough? They rehearsed potential dialogue options for Lincoln's deflection until they were at his apartment door a few minutes later. (Also, I'm sure you guys noticed how lazy this scene feels. It's the last scene, and I wanted to get this done before the anniversary of QTQ)
"Mhm," Lincoln paused his game of God of War: Remastered: Definitive Edition. No pre-orders. Yuck! "Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Gurdle," He opened the door, getting one of his friend's parents.
"Hello, Lincoln, can we talk to you about something?" Samuel started. Lincoln arched his brow from the tone of Mr. Gurdle's words. Did they have another wild conspiracy? He stepped to the side, enabling them to enter his apartment, and sat at his dinner table. What's the folder?
"We know," Elizabeth announced while Samuel nodded with crossed arms.
"Pardon?" Lincoln questioned blankly, bridging his brow and tilting his head. Know what? They opened the dossier about him. Their jumbled words swarmed his head with a perplexed expression. He listened to the illogical explanation believing that he's an alien or descendent of a deity sent here to procreate, given his rabbit motif. "Okay, where's the camera?" Lincoln searched for the device, waiting for the punchline. "Did Luan put you guys up to this?" Come on, this was ridiculous.
"No," The Gurdles replied. His eyes widened at the declaration. Holy shit, they're serious."That's why we have a proposal," Elizabeth suggested, unzipping her tracksuit. She presented her mature bosom. His shocked cerulean eyes widened while his heart thundered as a deep pink flushed spread throughout his handsome features. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!
"Elizabeth offered herself as a vassal," Samuel considered with his hand gesturing to his wife. Lincoln's eyes bounced between the couple. What the fuck? Fuck the what? WHAT?! The older man pulled out a business card. "Here's our contact information if you have any questions" Samuel left the card on the table as Elizabeth zipped up her tracksuit, taking the documents with them.
Lincoln was left alone in his apartment. "The fuck just happened?" He questioned the last five minutes, gilding his hand through white hair. Lincoln could've swore that it was a porn plot or something. Oh no, does Zach know about this? Man, he's going to be pissed. "I better tell him," Lincoln sighed, dragging his hand down his face.
It's a serene weekend afternoon at the Burnt Bean. Customers and employees eased into their seats with chill hipster vibes and coffee beans' mildly strong nutty aroma grounded into refined dark brown energy power. The nectar of divine beings reenergizing their mortal weary bodies in preparation for a soul-crushing work day. Lincoln sipped his caramel iced latte, periodically checking the door for Zach to enter. He meticulously researched when the Burnt Bean would be crowd-free, such as the day, time, and weather. Thankfully, it wasn't pumpkin spice season. Those Instagram girls are relentless. Personally, I never had a pumpkin spice drink. Those spice drinks must be good from the commercial vomit spreading throughout the fall. His blue eyes counted the occupants, excluding the workers. Thirteen in total are spread throughout the coffeehouse. One performing a steady melody on their acoustic guitar amidst the murmuring. Others were on the line or enjoying their orders. Lincoln smiled, recalling when Luna and the Moon Goats used to play here before their big break. The publicity allowed this cozy business into a local brand with a few locations throughout Michigan. One of them functioned as a microbrewery during evenings and weekends. They need something to counter Starbucks' overwhelming presence. A google news notification appeared on his phone. Another Starbuck and Amazon warehouse got unionized. Nice. The front door's electric bell chime signals someone's entry.
Lincoln glanced at the door. Oh, shit, it's Zach. The friends shared a smile as Zach went on the short line, scanning the menu. Lincoln's grin shifted into a dire frown with his heart quaking a mile a millisecond while Zach's back was turned. That's probably the caffeine. He took another swig of his chilly sweet beverage, scratching his mind for the upcoming bombshell. More people entered the establishment. Oh, how Lincoln wishes to have a dialogue tree. Should he go the Paragon route, breaking it down gently to Zach? Neutral? Allowing him to build up to the drastic reveal? Renegade?! Telling Zach firmly and bluntly that his parents think he's an alien or demi-god with boundless lust made Zeus and Glenn Quagmire exhausted from hearing his encounters.
Furthermore, his mother offered herself to satiate his passion. That's the quickest and most efficient method. No ambiguity or enigmas littered in his words. It leaves another issue. How will Zach react to the news? Furious, confused, repulsed, or nonchalant about the entire ordeal. Well, he'll see in a minute.
"Thanks for coming, Zach," Lincoln said, hiding his distress as his guest took a seat. They were at one of the corner tables away from the maze of chairs.
"Sure thing, dude," Zach replied, biting into his blueberry muffin. He brushed the crumbles off his Star Wars shirt. "What do you want to talk to me about?" He swirled his tropical smoothie made with local ingredients. No banana. What's with banana overwhelming the other fruity flavors?
Lincoln sighed, deciding to go straight to the point. "It's your parents," He started, hardening his eyes for the upcoming outburst.
"O…kay," Zach murmured, waiting for the explanation with an annoyed eye roll. Great, another one. His parents were always chasing the next big conspiracy. However, he got sick of them constantly harassing innocent people. They had more lawsuits and restraining orders than he had essays in high school. The red-head slurped his tangy cherry drink. "What else is new?" He grumbled, tilting his container to the male Loud. Another incident with his parents is another Tuesday for him. What will it be for the bingo card?
"Alright, I'm going direct with this," Lincoln declared, motioning his hands. Zach blankly shrugged for him to continue. "Remember how you thought I was an alien or something," He recalled tales from their youth.
Zach nodded, confirming his tale. "They think you're an alien, don't ya," The nerd affirmed, rolling his eyes at his parents' actions again. He did that to buy time for Lincoln during elementary school for a parent-teacher meeting.
"Well, if it was only that simple," Lincoln commented, taking a pregnant pause. He straightened his lips, pondering the following line of his script. Zach had an inkling of the conversation, formulating a straight path. The neutral path it is. The words crawled at his throat, begging to be released like chunky bile after monstrous rotations on a neck-breaking roller coaster at DairyLand. TELL HIM THE TRUTH ALREADY! The inner logic roared at him.
"Fucking hell, man," Zach groaned, massaging the indicated forehead wrinkles.
"There's more to it," Lincoln announced, using the intermission to articulate his words. Zach stopped, putting his drink on a brown and orange coaster. Some customers muttered at the scene, crafting theories of what was occurring between the pair. A date or break-up? Muscles twitched in his lower jaw, drying his windpipe. Just get on with it. "They think I'm an alien or demi-god trying to reproduce like a rabbit and your parents decided to offer up your mother as a sacrifice to save humanity," Lincoln blurted out.
Zach blinked owlishly at the incoherent rambling. "Run that by me again?" The red-headed young man requested, adjusting his glasses with bewildered eyes. He missed every word of Lincoln's attempt at Enimenm's Godzilla.
Lincoln exhaled to calm himself. Okay, take two. "They think I'm alien or something that's been sent here to use Earth's female population as breeding stock, and your mom is offering herself to protect the human race," The ashen blonde summarized with a blank sheet of paper for an expression. He folded his hands as a suspect revealing what he knew, waiting for the interrogator to determine whether the words were worth consideration.
"Oh, okay," Zach shrugged, taking another sip of his smoothie. The barista called customers to the counter for their orders.
"Excuse me?!" Lincoln exclaimed. Some of the patrons eavesdropped on the conversation. What could they be talking about?
"I said it's okay, dude," The red-headed star gazer repeated with a smile. His tongue lapped the fruity mustache on his top lip.
"Say what now?"Lincoln squeaked with a vacant look tilting his head. "Did you hear what I said?" He continued with confusion buzzing around his head like mosquitos during the summer.
Zach nodded and heard him loud and clear. "Don't worry about it," He chomped on his muffin.
"Zach, you're one of my closest friends," Lincoln confessed, wondering how Zach was nonchalant about it. "I feel like I'm betraying you or something," The ashen blonde fretted about the situation. Yeah, it's a desire every guy has at least once in his life. The reality grazes his fingertips, having sex with a MILF and a married woman without determinants. However, it's his friend's mom. There's an unspoken rule about it.
"Dude, just fuck my mom already!" Zach deadpanned, narrowing his eyes behind his spectacles. The occupants halted their actions, gazing at the two with flabbergasted eyes. One of them spat out their beverage in shock. "Sorry, I know that was out of context," He explained, turning his body to the other patrons, with crumbs on the edges of his mouth. A group patted their friend on the back to eject the remaining juice from their system. A worker came from the counter with a towel and cleaning spray to wipe the table as the music resumed. Few stares lingered at their table as the conversation was scalding.
"Zach," Lincoln muttered. A blender whirled, crunching ice and fruits.
"Link, just do it already," Zach continued, gesturing with a straight hand. "We both know that they won't stop until they get an answer," He remarked, fully aware of his parents' determination or obsession in their case. "It won't be the craziest thing they've done," The red-head joked, attempting to lighten the situation.
"..." Lincoln frowned.
"Dude, I know it's fucking weird," Zach answered in the silence before sighing. "But I stopped caring years ago," He rested his head against his palm, glancing at the table. Conspiracy theories were a core part of his identity but became insufferable as he developed. Those theories devolved into Charlie Brown's adult speech from the harm caused by them. It made no sense. "Also, um, thanks for helping me not lose myself in the rabbit hole," Zach mumbled, erecting a smile on Lincoln's features. His friends and Giggles fanned away the corrupting miasma, keeping him grounded in reality. It distanced Zach from his family as he found new hobbies. He still held a torch for sci-fi. "I'm not sure if this makes this any … better. Think about this as a peace offering or some weird award for all the shit," He considered. It's the least he can do for the massive invasion of privacy.
"Eh…" Lincoln cringed, rolling his eyes with a so-so hand motion
"Yeah, that's still weird," Zach remarked with another sip, pinning that idea on the bulletin board. The pair chatted until it was time for them to leave. Lincoln waited at the bus stop checking the tracking app with one more destination on his mind. There's someone he needed to talk to.
Lincoln gazed out the bus window as the landscape shifted into familiar backgrounds. The vibrations from his Bluetooth headphones did little to calm the whirling maelstrom of thoughts. What the hell is he going to do? Zach and his father gave him permission to fuck their mom/wife. Mrs. Gurdle isn't an unappealing woman. The situation and how they presented it befuddled him. He chuckled to himself, thinking this was some role-play act. How else can you explain it logically? You can't. They're conspiracy theorists. The fundamental concepts of reason and logic are interpretational to their chaotic worldview. Lincoln needs another viewpoint. Someone who knew Mrs. Gurdle before she became … this. There's someone that the frost-haired Loud had in mind. He glanced outside as the bus approached his residence. His hand tugged at the nearby yellow line creating a swift chime, waiting for the bus to crawl to a stop. He passed an Alt girl, stepping over the massive gothic boots during his exit. Seriously, what's the appeal of those platform shoes? The bus wheeled off, leaving him smiling at his family home. It softened without eleven rambunctious kids. Now only a few remained. Lincoln ambled to the house before knocking on the door. They never did fix the zapping doorbell.
"Coming," Rita replied, putting her book down. She opened the door, revealing her only son. "Lincoln," The mother gasped at the surprise visit, albeit a welcomed one. A call would have been nice. They embraced each other for a few moments.
"Hey, mom," Lincoln answered, towering over his mother with his headphones resting on his neck. Rita resembled as she was when he was a child as the marks of time appeared as faint wrinkles and the fading gold in her roots. "Can I talk to you about something?" He muttered with a low frown, holding her tight.
"Of course, sweetie," Rita obliged the request with a soothing grin. It's her baby boy, after all. The matriarch motioned him inside. He glanced around the tidy and quiet living room. Lavender Pine-sol. His sisters and father must be out for the day. Good. That's less drama for him. "What's the problem?" She asked, resting on the couch together. Her experienced eyes viewed his distress behind her glasses. Raising eleven kids taught her a few things.
"It's the Gurdles," Lincoln answered hesitantly, weary of his mother's reaction. Will she react the same way as Zach with sheer disinterest? He doubts it. Rita and Elizabeth were friends in middle school, high school, and college. His mother invited her to their wedding. Their bond endured for decades, making this a personal matter for him and her.
Rita sighed, rubbing her creased forehead. Again? "What did they do this time?" She consoled, masking her building indignation. The last few years opened a party bag of insanity. It's a miracle that they were on the tamer end of the spectrum. Rita sighed, recalling how Elizabeth used to be. She wanted to be a journalist or a reporter, discovering horrible secrets of corporations like those in the seventies and prior. The drive and inquisitive nature were there. Those noble traits mutated into obsession and paranoia, connecting imaginary dots to events that only made sense to most deranged individuals.
"It's not what they did. It's more what they want to do," Lincoln clarified, drying his sweaty palms on his denim jeans. Come on, just repeat what you said to Zach. Rita's forehead creased in confusion. "They believe I'm an extraterrestrial sent here to breed like a rabbit. Both agreed that prospering Mrs. Gurdle as a vessel to calm my desires to save humanity," He repeated blankly. Rita narrowed her aging eyes with a slant jaw as his words buzzed like mosquitos in her mind. What the fuck? Fuck the what? The extra-terrestrial belief she can excuse. Lincoln's white hair, the only male child, and the secretive nature of his birth raise several questioning brows. Out of eleven children, why is the only son's birth such a guarded secret?
There's only one thing she can say. "What?!" She yelled, sweeping her arms. Elizabeth is going to let Lincoln go balls deep into her without issue? Her son matched her bewildered expression.
"That's what I said!" Lincoln exclaimed, dragging his hands on his face. The proposal rocked his brain like a glass jar of skittles in the backseat of a van after a detour through an uneven back road in the woods. "I talked to Zach about it this morning," He continued, drained from repeating his story.
"And?" Rita asked, leaning closer to get the story. She wrote several books over the years. You can't leave her on a cliffhanger. Her author's instincts shivered from the implications of his tale. It can be a plot twist from one of her books. However, the rational section of her brain argued against it. Her son was handed a loaded gun as his choice determined if he destroyed an entire family.
"He's okay with it," Lincoln remarked. "Or at least doesn't care," The Gurdle's relationship strained over the years with their only son. He doesn't know the catalyst for their estranged relationship. Several ideas popped. Theories became too detached from reality for Zach's liking, crossing an untouched boundary. He lost interest in conspiracy, replacing it with love for astronomy. Lisa gave him one of her telescopes for him to use. Hey, that telescope was one of the better models. Plus, Zach can still find aliens if he's fortunate enough. "What am I going to do with this? They won't accept no for an answer," He addressed with lingering annoyance on his breath while propping his head against his fist. His mother had similar thoughts, snapping her brows together. He's right. Elizabeth and Samuel are relentless in their pursuits, resorting to false identities for several of their endeavors and their child. Who does that?! Although, that would explain a few things.
"Unfortunately, you have to do it," Rita instructed. He groaned, angling his head skyward from the answer. Great, even his mom too?! "I know. I didn't like it either," She interrupted, sharing a shred of empathy with him. However, what other choice does he have? They'll hound him more than Plankton for the Krabby Patty secret formula. Lincoln covered his face with a deep sigh, leaning forward from the crushing weight of the situation. Rita drew him into a loving embrace to quell his troublesome thoughts. "Hey, you're not the bad guy here," She comforted her baby boy. Lincoln looked aside as he frowned, unsure of her words. Her eyes brightened for a moment, gaining an idea. "I think how this can work in your favor and maybe to get Elizabeth away from conspiracies," She divulged, beckoning him to get closer. Lincoln listened to her suggestions. His expressions shifted from dull pessimism to questioning with a raised brow, then nodding as Rita continued her reasoning before widening his blue eyes when she concluded.
"You think that'll work," Lincoln asked, placing his faith in his mother's plan.
"Probably not, but it's something," Rita inquired before standing up. "Let's get you something to eat," She offered while a gentle smile formed on his face. The mother and son entered the kitchen for some food and to distract themselves by talking about their creative hobbies. She needed some plot ideas while he wanted to practice his art skills.
Several hours passed while Lincoln stared at his phone in his palm, contemplating his decision while lying on his bed. Elizabeth's number was on the screen. She'll be on her way here with one tap of his finger to call or a quick text message. He glanced at the wall-mounted analog clock. 7:47 PM. Rays of sunbeams pierced through gaps in his blinds with floating dust particles caught in their path. Lincoln sighed before steeling his nerves and pushing on the call button. His heart trembled with each monotone ring.
"Hello," Mrs. Gurdle replied, pressing the speaker icon as Samuel paused his research, twirling around in his hopped to the phone, holding his wife's hand. It has to be Lincoln. Who else would call them?
"Hey, Mrs. Gurdle," Lincoln answered, rubbing his bare arm with his orange smartphone to his ear. His silvery voice thunderstruck the couple. "Can you … come over, please?" He respectfully asked his friend's mother. There's no turning back now. The couple cheered at his answer, embracing the other with a quick smooch. Yes, he accepts! Humanity is saved, but no one will know their sacrifice. Yet they're okay with it. They were never motivated by awards or glory. All the noblest sacrifices for the betterment of humanity were ignorant save a few people. "I'll take that as a yes," Lincoln stated, his half-lidded eyes gazing into the space above.
"Yes, of course," Elizabeth beamed, hopping on the balls of her feet. Samuel suppressed his fan-boy whoops, not wanting to frighten 'Lincoln' if that's even his real name.
Lincoln exhaled through his nose as he sat upright, dangling his legs off the bed edges. "How soon can you get here?" The strapping frost-haired male requested, exhaling through his nose to ease the rampant hampering in his chest. Is he really doing this? Yes. Yes, you are.
"I'll be there in half an hour," Elizabeth estimated her arrival with a quick sniff of herself. A quick shower will suffice.
"Alright, see you soon," Lincoln responded as a businessman closing an agreement with a client.
"See you soon," She cooed. Click! Elizabeth dashed to their shower while Samuel prepared her duffle bag. Everything has to be acceptable for this occasion. The fate of humanity depends on it.
"Jesus fucking christ," He groaned, resting his phone at the vertical edge of the bed. Booty call initiated. His dull eyes scanned his room, taking a sharp inhale of his surroundings. It wasn't messy but still needs a touch-up. "I better tidy up," Lincoln addressed the situation, getting up from his bed. He used the time to clear his mind, tossing his discarded clothes into a nearby hamper and remaking his bed. Lincoln's internal debate prolonged as he cleaned his room. Zach's and his mom's prior words reaffirmed that he wasn't the villain. He signed, grabbing his vacuum cleaner. What are the cons of this agreement? Shit, he can't think of anything. The Gurdles consented without bias or coerced in any way. Zach's indifferent to the situation. Rita agreed with him but suggested a plan for it. Pros. Sex and lots of it.
Elizabeth wasn't a rando which complicates the situation. Although, it checks off several things on the sexual bucket list. A MILF, a friend's mom, and a married woman. All in a single swoop. His vacuum mini-vortex crackled as it devoured thousands upon thousands of debris and dust embedded into the dark blue carpet under his bed. It clicked off. "Okay, that should be everything," Lincoln muttered, placing his vacuum back into his closet while scanning his picturesque room. His bedding was hotel ready, with his clear desk and appliances set in their respective spots. He smiled at his handiwork. There's no better motivator for a guy to clean his room than a booty call. "One more thing," He grabbed a bottle of Glade Hawaiian Breeze and squeezed it a few times, filling the room with a gentle tropical aroma. Living with ten sisters taught him several critical facts about cleanliness. "Perfect," Lincoln nodded, glancing at his clock. 8:14 PM. She should be here soon. His heart dropped, forgetting an essential item for the appointment. Condoms! Does he have condoms? His phone buzzed in his cardinal shorts, preventing him from checking the bathroom or ordering a box from one of his delivery apps as a backup plan. Lincoln reached into his pocket, inspecting the message on his cellular device. It's from Elizabeth.
"I'm outside," The simple message read off. Oh crap. Lincoln's heart pounded, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat. He exhaled, releasing the anxiety through the nose. Remember Lola and Luan's calming techniques. Lincoln arrived at his front door, outstretched his twitching hand mere centimeters from the handle. He buried his timidness, turning the door open, revealing Elizabeth Gurdle holding a faded gray overnight bag over her shoulder. Both were dressed for bed. He wore a comfortable jet-black T-shirt with a metallic gray D.S on the middle. Her nightwear resembled her conventional wardrobe. The pink and white track pants were replaced with a short version, stopping at the center of her knees with a matching tank-top.
"Hey, Mrs. Gurdle," Lincoln greeted, wearing a calm mask. He glanced at the basic wedding ring on her finger. The mere sight of the object reignited his planning skills. His analytical brain devised the reasoning with a simple question. Why? Was it to entice him further or to test the other's resolve? Did it prove something to her and her mindset? How long will this last between them after the first time? Perhaps, she didn't believe that she was cheating on her husband. All of this was a business transaction for her. Nothing more. Lincoln recalled his prior conversation with the married couple. They claimed that it's for humanity's survival. Humanity's survival? OH MY GOD! He groaned internally, gaining insight into their reasoning. The two have a martyr's mindset, discarding their sacred vows of matrimony to become a lightning rod for the world's persistence. It's Thanos in Infinity War but with substantially less genocide.
"You can call me Elizabeth," The mature conspiracy theorist corrected with a faint smile, removing the awkwardness. "Can I come in, please?" She requested, glancing at someone entering their apartment. The two shared a look before shrugging. Whatever, it's none of their business. Lincoln stepped aside, enabling her to join his living room, and locked the door behind him. Elizabeth surveyed the area. Depending on availability, Fern nest apartments were entirely or semi-furnished, with neutral colors of medium gray and navy blue. No dishes in the sink or rumbling dishwasher. She sat at the wooden chocolate table, dragging her finger against the smooth surface. Her fingers rubbed together, drawing them closer to her eyes. No dust or crumbles either. Lincoln prepared for her arrival. It's a good practice for all species. Nobody wants to procreate with an unsanitary person. Elizabeth took a quick shower, using a gentle feminine body spray afterward. She didn't have enough time or money for an entire Korean beauty routine. Although, it's the best Elizabeth can do at short notice.
"Do you want something to drink, Elizabeth?" Lincoln offered, gesturing to his fridge as he suppressed the awkward sensation on his tongue. Oh, man. He called his friend's mom by her first name. Lincoln's fair skin tingles with anticipation for the upcoming session.
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, thank you. I ate before I came here," She refused the generous offer. That's a discount lie, only having a light meal. The journalist can't risk an accident during the action. She sanitized every part of her body, ranging the cracks between her toes and the roots of her brown hair with a microscope and fine-tooth comb. He could've had a fetish and anticipated it. A lingering tension hung in the air. Elizabeth relaxed as if it was a casual visit between old friends to catch up.
"Let's head to my room to get this started," Lincoln directed her to his door. She arose, following him inside with a delicate grin. Her slender fingers reached behind, securing the chilly stainless steel lock with a click. No interruptions. She's unaware if he had roommates or if one of his sisters or friends decided on a random visit. It is better to be safe than sorry. He perched at the foot of his queen-sized bed, squishing under his weight. She followed suit, causing more deformation while scanning the room. "Is there anything I need to know before we start?" The ashen blonde man requested, wanting to get everything covered. He's going to fornicate with another man's wife! "Boundaries. What's okay or not okay because if we're going with this. I want to make sure I'm doing this correctly. So both of us have a good time," Lincoln emphasized sternly, listing off potential information. His heart thumped to the BPM of Rap God. He calmed his breathing via his nose as there was no turning back. They don't have to go all the way. Maybe next time.
"Sure," Elizabeth agreed, rummaging through her bag, knowing Lincoln was stalling for time to ease his frantic mind. It's an unorthodox situation often fueled by deception and wanton passion. The acrid anguish of the uncovered betrayal splits entire families, leaving the adulterer with the hollow ash of their former life. A pyrrhic desire for a foolish moment of pleasure. Lincoln doesn't want that. Rita and Lynn Sr. raised eleven wonderful children, and he is no expectation. He's similar to Clark Kent, respecting the norms of society. She's aware that he talked with Zachary and Rita about this, wanting to gain a second opinion or to explain. It's a bizarre scenario. Lincoln establishes a little distance between them, looking off at various wall posters of comics, video games, and movies. Suppose his species are anything like Earth rabbits. In that case, she must proceed cautiously as rabbits are prone to heart attacks under stress. "I have my file right here," She handed him an office portfolio.
Lincoln opened it, scanning the contents. "You have a medical and sexual file," He remarked with a subtle flush. Sweet lord, she's through with her work. It has everything, including her body's dimensions, recent medical history, and interests. Elizabeth's unflattering clothes hid her shockingly shapely figure. Her bust was the smallest as an average B-cup, with hips being the widest categorizing Elizabeth as a pear-shaped figure.
"Yes, as you can see here," Elizabeth bridged the gap with their thighs touching as she pointed to one of her documents. "I'm free from all sexual diseases and infections. Fully vaccinated," She emphasized. Even the Gurdles weren't as illogical compared to some of their counterparts. "I'm relatively vanilla but open-minded. Just … nothing illegal or on the far end of the deviancy spectrum," Elizabeth requested, approaching this as a job interview with a mild shudder.
"Don't worry. I'm straight edge, too," Lincoln replied, handing her back the file as he searched through his phone. She relaxed her shoulders with her lips curving upwards. Yes. There's no freaky deeky shit around here. "Here's my records," He showed Elizabeth a PDF of his current medical files. All clean and green where negative is a beautiful word to hear. "Is everything fact-checked?" Lincoln's brow arched teasingly, relaxing his tense body while they exchanged information.
Elizabeth pushed up her glasses, finding zero inaccuracies in the report. "Yes, everything is up to standard," She smiled, caressing his toned thigh under her palm. "Also, menopause kicked in a few years and with clear records. We don't need condoms~," One of her shoulder straps went to the middle of her biceps, and his lustful eyes glimmered at her enticement-No bra either. Her gaze remained on him, performing the same task before as an incentive to haggle down the prices for several devices in their garage. Some preferred Samuel, while other times they tag team. Elizabeth reached for her goggle-style glasses to remove them. She didn't want them to get dirty. Lincoln's dominating hand clutched her wrist, stopping the older woman. The swift action startled her, but it revved up her heart. She couldn't decipher his vacant expression as beads of sweat moistened her forehead. His grip didn't harm her, although it made her neck hairs stiffen with yearning. How did his delicate boyish features swiftly morph into rugged and primal? Elizabeth halted her breathing at his narrow arctic eyes glimmering with the sole purpose of procreation.
"Keep your glasses on…."Lincoln demanded, his gruff voice heavy with unrefined lust. "I want to see if I can fuck them off you," She awakened the ardor of a god amongst men. His eyes were a wrathful sea during a moonless night. Unyielding destruction approaches, reducing her to a piece of flesh. Can't back out now. The situation was her idea from the start and must be her to finish it. How will Elizabeth inspect herself in the mirror if her convictions wavered in this dire moment? All she will see is a pompous spineless hypocrite staring back in a mockery of her image.
"Yes, sir," Elizabeth obliged, redirecting her hand to her lap. All of her skin layers shivered, warming up for their breeding session. Her body is unsuitable for such a task, barren from age. Yet could still, at the minimum, contain it. Lincoln removed the other strap, exposing her modest breast to him with her hand inching towards his crotch. "Oohhhh…" She purred, biting her lip at the sharp twist of her light brown nipples.
Lincoln tugged at one of them like a tied end of a freshly made balloon. "Pretty perky," He muttered, flicking the fleshy bump, making her jump at the pleasurable sting.
"Thank you," Elizabeth cooed, her face inflamed with passion recalling the flash from days prior. She massaged him through his red shorts. His cock enlarged, pushing against the fabric. Fuck, it's bigger than what she predicted. Were his balls heavy, filled, and oversaturated with cum too? Her bottom lips salivated at the possibility. That's why she's here. His body's identical to normal human physiology, prone to the same risks as everyone else. There are bound to be replicated in the ever-spinning universe. Elizabeth recalled an estimated three million habitable exo-planets for humanity to colonize or explore. It's a low but probable occurrence that there's a planet resembling Earth. He cupped her tender breasts, messaging them in a circular motion. Enjoy them, Lincoln, as they're yours. Does his species prefer breasts? Unlikely but possible. Child-bearing hips and a voluptuous ass are the default attraction. Rita, a number of his sisters, and Lincoln's past romantic endeavors shared similar traits. She matches the description but is more on the petite side. Her hand edged to the belt of his shorts. "Can I take off your pants, please?" The conspiracy theorist requested.
Lincoln smirked, leaning back. "Sure," He agreed, allowing her to perform. She smiled, dragging his shorts and underwear to his knees. Everything is going as planned, albeit with a few bumps in the road. It's irrelevant as they're crossing the boundary of no return. The final barrier of human morality is broken at this moment. She stopped. "Hm?" The ashen blonde smirked, arching his brow. His shorts were around his knees.
"HOLY FUCK, YOUR COCK IS MASSIVE!" Elizabeth's nasal voice yelled while her bulging eyes scanned the succulent flesh. It's one of the more enormous cocks she and her husband sampled throughout the years. An easy top three at the minimum. Furthermore, his penis is the most aesthetically pleasing. The fair skin of his member was of silky porcelain with bountiful twin orbs churning with viscous fertile sperm. Her heart throbbed with lustful anticipation at being covered by him.
"Thank you," Lincoln bragged at the shocked look. "Also, I'm not fully hard yet," His smirk widened at her owlish eyes. NOT FULLY HARD YET?! Shit, he's a pushed up her glasses, tracing the network of veins on the topside of the shaft. He's semi-flaccid, given the size and downward angle of his organ. He is a healthy 5.4 inches for his age. Her hands massaged his penis with delicate touches, rubbing the shaft with her thumb as the other caressed the testicles. "Fuck, you're awesome at this," Lincoln groaned, relishing her technique. This was better than doing it himself.
"Years of practice," Elizabeth smiled with scarlet cheeks. It formed a secondary purpose. She's searching for any anomalies in his reproductive organs. Nothing. His cock is anatomically identical to the average human male. Elizabeth swapped her style using an underside grip. "Does it feel good?" She muttered, glancing at his closed eyes.
"Yeah," Lincoln bit his lip with a sharp inhale. "You've done this a lot," He opened one of his eyes.
"It helps me when Samuel and I need to haggle," Elizabeth answered. Why is he taking so long to get fully erect? Was her technique off? She smiled as it pulsed and enlarged in her grasp. Finally, "Someone … down," Her flabbergasted eyes widened while she stammered at the sheer growth. "Ohhhhhhh shit," Elizabeth quivered, stopping her motion while her heart drummed into her ears.
"What's wrong?" Lincoln bragged at her gobsmacked gaze. "Come on, why do you stop?" He teased, wiggling his cock like a flagpole during a pitch battle to motivate the soldiers. It morphed into a breeding spear, eager to pierce the wombs of any woman courageous enough to battle it.
"Um, please excuse me," Elizabeth fretted, reaching into her duffle bag as her eyes locked on his member. She pulled out a roll of measuring tape. The mature woman calculated the dimensions of the tempting flesh, measuring the shaft and wrapping around the girth. He's reaching 7 or 8 inches and three fingers wide if she rounded it up. Was this common in his species? Fuck, it probably was. "Can I get a picture of this for my files, please?" She bargained, holding her charcoal Google Pixel in her palm. He arched his brow at the request. "My husband wants proof that we did it," A scarlet flush burned at her face, spreading to her neck.
Lincoln edged closer to the foot of his bed and widened his legs. "Get nice and close," He obliged as she smiled, getting in position for the photos. Elizabeth gripped the base, holding it upright to display its mast. "Was your husband this big?" Lincoln taunted, slipping into a dominant role. A jolt of familiarity coursed through his vertebrate. Why did it feel like he's done this before?
Elizabeth shook her head. "You're almost twice his size," She replied, taking another picture with her face. His cock twitched at the praise. Her lips curved at the faint involuntary motion as she sensually stroked his cock. Lincoln knew that Elizabeth appealed to his masculine ego. She's aware of that too. It's an effective tactic, after all; great for persuading someone to consider their viewpoint. He used similar tactics in the past. The human mind is a warped enigma for such a vital organ. It's capable of complex actions building elaborate devices based on logic and evidence with intricate revelations on life, the universe, and what it means to be human.
Yet all it takes is a few honeyed words from hordes of yes-men in an echo chamber of what they want to hear for some people to hold a steadfast belief in the most nonsensical idea. A significant weakness among conspiracy theorists. Dictators favorite people who enable their illogical and disastrous fantasies for safety, money, and cowardness.
He recited Elizabeth's prior statement of his superior size compared to her husband. All humans have an ego, a subconscious desire to be praised, acknowledged, and viewed as superior to others. It's the second tier of the hierarchy of needs. The sixth Loud child believes that Elizabeth's words have the merit of truth to them. However, she likely repeated that line to others in the past over the years to coax more out of them. How else were they able to afford their equipment?
His mother's words echoed in his mind. Just focus on the plan.
"Did he get the message?" Lincoln asked as his heart raced at the incoming message. Holy shit, he's actually NTR'ing someone right now. Ugh, that foul erotic tag. An automatic blacklist. Now Lincoln found himself in a similar situation, but everything is consensual. Also, most importantly, he isn't an ugly bastard. Lincoln found himself to be reasonably attractive. The wife isn't a supermodel but not unattractive and still fuckable. On the other hand, it's not NTR as Lincoln isn't stealing someone's spouse. Hotwife or wife sharing is likely the better term for this.
Elizabeth continued to stroke him, glancing between his penis and her phone. Message received. He concentrated on the messaging app she used. Signal. The blue dotted speak bubble app is known for its advanced encryption. It's a favorite among government officials, cyber-security experts, and those who want to ensure their conversations remain private.
"Yes," The skeptical reporter confirmed, smiling as she displayed her husband's replies of shock. The phone buzzed with Samuel's number on the screen. "He wants to talk to you," Elizabeth purred, handing the phone to him.
"Hey, Mr. Gurdle," Lincoln greeted with a blank expression, listening to the man's spiel on the sexual expertise of his wife. Elizabeth sat beneath him like a trained pet awaiting orders with a faint grin. His cock throbbed before her with her bare chest presented in all of its glory. Both exchanged health information and were ready to engage. Lincoln found her body acceptable despite the age difference. Then again, it must be the appeal of an older woman. Plus, good genetics. Finally, tempting Lincoln's masculine ego by comparing Samuel in Lincoln's favor. Everything is going according to plan.
"Elizabeth is petite but can handle a rough pounding," Samuel alluded from the other side of the phone. His lotion-covered hand stroked his average-sized phallus, remembering some of their escapades together. "You won't be disappointed," He stifled a gruff moan while digging through the memories and files on his display screen. The balding red-haired man concentrated on one of their trips to Ohio for plutonium from Craigslist before all the regulations. It's the final component of their spaceship. They already had the hardware and circuitry for it from local sources like the dump. He and one guy spit-roasted Elizabeth, getting them a massive discount.
"I'm quite sure Elizabeth can speak for herself and show me her talents," He retorted, beckoning her to forward his index finger. She crawled between his legs, gliding her soft hands across his toned thighs and tight abdominal muscles. Elizabeth purred, caressing this prime male specimen. "Don't worry; I'll hold my end of the bargain and pump her full of my cum. As long as Elizabeth's available at my beck and call per our agreement," The frost-haired male recited the earlier proposal. Elizabeth's vaginal muscles clenched at his words, moistening herself in preparation. Her body rumbled at the decadent sensation of his fertile cum, oozing out of her. Oh god, does she have a breeding kink? "All for the good of the human race, right?" Lincoln gazed at Elizbeth with a lustful wildfire blazing in his sapphire eyes. She bit her lip as her body warmed like a preheated oven. Her eager eyes bounced between his dominating view and the dark blue carpet.
"Yes, of course," Samuel agreed with a servile nod, reaching his climax.
"She'll see you in the morning," Lincoln declared, ending the call. His sapphire artistic eyes caught other privacy apps for a split second. Tor Project and DuckDuckGo. He should deal with that later. Whatever. He tosses the phone back into the bag after removing his shirt. "Are you ready?" The frost-haired Loud demanded, sliding to the bed's edge.
She hesitated before opening her mouth. "Can I…?" Elizabeth puckered her lips and jerked off the air. Her maw salivated at the juicy meat in front of her. The married woman's blood pumped more than a fraudulent crypto shock before an inevitable rug plug. Will he fit? She glanced at her overnight bag. Did Samuel pack the throat-numbing spray? She'll need buckets of spit for this mission. Shit, Lincoln would definitely want anal. Good thing that she packed lubrication. No. She can't halter now. Everything depends on her performance in this agreement. All men are identical in terms of pleasure. This is no different. She swished around the warm spittle growing on her tongue. Better to make it nice and sloppy. The edges of her lips curved with purpose, puffing her modest chest with determination. She can do this.
Lincoln grabbed her face, getting within a breath's distance of her. She froze as their eyes locked. "You better suck me harder and deeper than everyone else," He commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "Do you understand me?" Lincoln emphasized, pressing his fingers into her malleable cheeks with his blue eyes deep, unyielding gaze.
"Yes, sir," Elizabeth cooed, removing her shorts. She raised herself, sliding the pants down her slim thighs and kicking them off her toes. Only beige hipster panties remained. Her nerves shot off fireworks as the situation unfolded with an exhilarating shot of adrenaline pumped into her heart. The conspiracy theorist couldn't hope for a better scenario. She's on her knees in front of a splendid cock attached to an alien ready to ravish her body until there's nothing left of her. All for him to do it again.
"Good girl~," Lincoln whispered with half-lid eyes. She gulped, sharply gasping as he captured her lips. Her eyes slowly closed with pleasure, melting into the warmth of his gliding lips. Holy shit, Lincoln's superb at this. His buttery lips smacked against her freshly applied red-stained lips. The older woman didn't expect foreplay, assuming Lincoln would plunge himself into her glistening honeypot. Not complaining. He pushed himself deeper, taking more of her addicting lips. Elizabeth slithers her hands across his neck and shoulders, acknowledging his conforming silken skin. No man wants a foul-decaying fish in bed. Their lips smacked in a control symphony, relishing the other's addicting breath. His teeth gently tugged her bottom lip. "Good girl~" The winter-haired Loud repeated as his husky breath intoxicated her. His heart roared with fervor at consuming the forbidden fruit. Holy shit, he's actually doing it. Several rare achievements popped above him; Snagging a MILF. Bonus points for her being married and the mother of one of your friends. Elizabeth wasn't his first choice. Jancey Yates, Maria, and Frida were the top contenders. Hey, beggars can't be choosers. A MILF is a MILF, and she's performing incredibly.
"Thank you," Elizabeth muttered when a low rumble of thunder caught their attention. Huh. The forecast didn't say it'll rain today. "Please allow me to show you what I can do," She pleaded with both hands on his cock again, heaving with pink desire splattered on her face.
Lincoln leaned back, widening his legs for her. "Please don't disappoint me," He leered at the older woman. Elizabeth grinned, opening her mouth. His striking blue eyes widened at her, effortlessly gulping his entire length while maintaining direct eye contact with him. "Holy shit…" Lincoln whispered, closing his eyes. She chuckled as she bobbed her head, slurping his cock like a refreshing firecracker popsicle during a scorching heatwave in Texas. Fuck not a single gag. Lincoln moaned, curling his toes at her masterful techniques. Shit, so this was the meme. Elizabeth rotated her hands in a corkscrew manner, using her slobber as a lubricant. She gurgled on his dick, electrifying it with several vibrations before spitting it again. Sweet lord, Elizabeth going sloppy with it. Her luscious plump lips formed a steaming iron ring. At the same time, that saturated dexterous tongue slurped the underside of Lincoln's glorious manhood. And what a manhood it was. The soothing patter of rain muffled their bestial moans. His fingers sank into his deep midnight blue sheets, relishing in the mind-blowing pleasure of a married woman. Her controlled motions revealed her years of experience. It wasn't a sales pitch from a scummy car salesman attempting to exaggerate. Everything was true as she used her arsenal. Hands, mouth, tongue, and throat. Droplets of saliva dripped on his polished family jewels, escaping through the tiny gaps of Elizabeth's warm addicting orifice. She glided to the glistering swollen pink head, twirling her tongue before tightly sucking on it like a straw for the remnants of soda at the bottom of a cup. POP!
"Fuck," Elizabeth groaned, stroking the shaft and examining it with lustful eyes. They panted from the foreplay, exercising the brief intermission to mitigate the sky-cracking thunder in their hearts. She pushed up her glasses, catching her breath. Lincoln isn't making this easy for her. Most guys would've splattered their thick baby batter over her face by now. However, Lincoln isn't like most men. Far from it. All of his feats proved that; defeating Morag and saving Royal Woods are the most prolific ones. Although, he's still a man, and they all process sexual stimulation identically. Vigor surged in her ablaze eyes before lowering her, attaching her lips to his smooth orbs while stroking his phallus.
"Oooohhhhhh," Lincoln groaned, his blue eyes rolled to his skull. "Fuck, you're incredible," He moaned with gritted teeth, shuddering from the tongue lapping his scrotum. Elizabeth's body swelled with pride. Yes, it's going splendidly. His grunts are evident of that. That's a benefit of being a nerd and plain jane. She has to work to achieve superior sexual skills. It's a known fact that hot girls can't fuck for shit, often relying on their amble features just to be a dead fish. No wonder why the boyfriends of these supermodel cheerleaders cheat on them with girls like her. All that hotness doesn't mean shit when he gets more pleasure from masturbating than going balls deeps. Hah. Memories from high school resurfaced. Oh, it was so satisfying blowing Alexia's boyfriend behind the school while she was practicing for the big game. That stupified look after he exploded in her throat, muttering that it was the best blowjob ever he got. Better than Alexia, stuck with her. In your fucking face, you dumb bitch! Damn, honestly thought she got over that. Whatever. Hope that Daniel's doing well.
"Are you getting close?" Elizabeth mumbled while a trickle of her love juices cascaded down her thighs. He grunted an agreement. Time for the big guns and resume polishing his meat rocket. She rested her hands on his sculpted thighs to steady herself before accelerating her filthy slobbering. The wet slopping bounced off the corners of the walls. His tingling skin heated from the rapid suction. "Come on, give it to me," She pleaded with lowered eyelids. Can't fail now when he's right at the edge.
Lincoln shot up, firmly grabbing her head. "Alright then…" His low voice growled, awakening a storm of shiver down her vertebrate. Elizabeth relaxed her neck when both strong hands locked themselves in her brown hair. Oh, this was going to be rough, and she'll enjoy every second. Lincoln ravaged her face with gloopy ropes of spit while reaching the back of Elizabeth's throat. Her arms hooked across his thighs to stabilize the ruthless thrusts. Nothing she could do besides taking it, constricting her tunnel like a boa suffocating its struggling prey when his cock twitched. "GRRRRH!" Lincoln screamed, unleashing buckets of sperm into her maw. She remained motionless as it pulsed, allowing him to overflow her mouth. Some escaped rolling from the corners of her lips, but her hands caught them. None must go to waste. Lincoln pulled out. His penis shot a few remaining stings defacing Elizabeth's features and glasses. He watched the bubbling pool resting in her jaw. Shit, that was a lot. Lincoln grabbed her phone and pressed record. She blinked from the blinding light. "Swallow it," He commanded after the camera focused.
"Okay," Elizabeth obeyed before shutting her mouth. She swallowed in intervals from how thick his cum was. God, she could almost chew it. It's sweet, creamy, and warm like vanilla pudding. "All done," Her clean pink tongue displayed to the camera.
"And send to Samuel," Lincoln bragged at his accomplishment. She grinned. Yes, more proof. "However, we're not done yet," He announced an absolute. His rigid cock bounced, wanting more of her. "I told you that I was going to fuck your glasses off," A ravenous hue glimmered in his arctic eyes. Her pussy quivered in glee from his primal stare. Oh god, there's more. "And that's what I'm going to do," Elizabeth discarded her soaking panties to the side before climbing on the bed.
She laid on her back, spread eagle, using her fingers to widen her soaking pussy. "Please cum inside me," Elizabeth requested with reddened sweaty features. He grabbed her hips, flipping her over like a crispy pancake and moving to the foot of his bed. "Oh shit," Her heart raced from the swift change and reveled in it.
Lincoln placed his lips near her ear. "That was the agreement," His raspy voice whispered into her delicate cartilage. She bit her lips, shuddering from the comment, before releasing a silent gasp at the firm grip on her throat. "Good whores like you can only be filled up," The platinum blonde determined, gliding his other hand across her flesh.
"Eep," Elizabeth chirped from the sharp strike on her right butt cheek, then another, and several more. "Ohhhh…" Her figure vibrated like a Nokia with his faint reddened handprint left a pleasurable burning pang on her juicy booty. No, it's his now.
Lincoln kneaded the malleable flesh. "Damn, you have a nice ass," He remarked on the dough-like texture of it. Each strike creates a hypnotic ripple, getting to two shakes per hit. It's more on the petite side but still jiggles. His intense blue eyes traced the outline of her figure. Damn, she has a heart-shaped butt.
"Thank you…" Elizabeth cooed, her face flushed with submissive passion, deeply clutching the sheets. She wiggled her rear to further entice him. Come on, just me pound me already. He inserted a pair of fingers into her leaky faucet, massaging her snug, pulsating vaginal walls. A little slack from age yet still considerably tight. She shivered and released several sprays from the moist cave. His fingers were a coated mess, smiling at the condition. She's ready.
"Ready?" Lincoln questioned, spreading her opening for himself. She nodded, grabbing her ass and widening herself with her face resting on the mattress. He arched a sly bow, smirking at the position. Elizabeth raised her butt, creating a more suitable angle for him to reach. The winter-haired Loud royally shoved his meaty pole into her dropping entrance. She gasped with bulging eyes as he filled her flesh canal. Sweet area 51. He seized her hips, ramming her slit. Her teeth bit into the fabric, muting her grunts. His wild groans rumbled in her brain while rearranging Elizabeth's guts. The rain resurrected with a downpour as a labyrinth of thunder scarred the atmosphere.
"Ughhhhh," Elizabeth murmured as he pounded the logic out of her. Her bright brown eyes dulled into rotten wood from the overpowering stimulation. Both eyelids lowered for the passion. He's stabbing all of her pleasure spots after analyzing the differences in her moans. They immersed themselves in their sweaty carnal desire. Her arms slacked, as did the rest of her body, becoming an organic sex doll for Lincoln. Her mouths salivated on his sheets as her thighs convulsed, resulting in a vast pool. Lincoln glanced at his barely conscious partner. Damn, did he break her? Can't have that? He grabbed her hair, tugging it upright to redirect the blood flow.
"I'm not done with you yet," Lincoln snarled as the light returned to her eyes. She blinked owlishly and hardened her features. Come on, Elizabeth! The first night is always the toughest. Just hold out for a few moments. "Oh shit, that's more like it," He grunted as the mature woman slammed her butt into his cock. Their delicious tongues twirled, both reaching their climax. Lincoln planted his feet in front of her thighs, crouching over her while reinforcing his hold on her waist. Her glasses are still on. He wants them off right … now.
"Fuck, you're so deep," Elizabeth whimpered from the new position. Fuck, the head is kissing her womb. She doesn't know how long she'll endure, but he must be close, right? He has to be. All Elizabeth knew was that her pussy would be sore in the morning. Her fingers searched for the cold sensation of her phone. Aha, there it is! However, Lincoln's vigorous pounding shot her spectacles off to the floor as he promised. It blurred her vision, but she could press record, swapping to the front camera. Lincoln half-opened one of his eyes. Oh shit, she's recording herself getting fucked stupid. Alright, he'll play along.
Lincoln grasped her neck once more. "Hey, Sam-oh fuck, she's so tight and wet," He started, muttering under his breath but loud enough to hear. "Your wife passed the test, and you were right after all," His balls twitched, ready to blow his fresh load into Elizabeth. "You'll see me again soon," Lincoln vowed with a conceited smirk. All of his reservations were destroyed in a mere hour. His worries and overthinking were irrelevant; now, he's pounding the cobwebs off Elizabeth. "Come on, baby, he needs a clear view of your slutty face," He encouraged, his corrupting steaming breath grazing her sensitive ears. No responses as she barely held up her phone. The last things she experienced were deep warm sensations filling her snatch and Lincoln's groans before Elizabeth's brain shut down.
Elizabeth grumbled as her eyelids twitched. She groaned, opening her eyes to the blurry world. "What time is it?" The older woman mumbled while searching her phone. Wait, where are her glasses? She patted around the bed before discovering a firm casing. Oh, there it is. The world returned to a clear view, examining the light blanket on her, preserving her dignity. This was Lincoln's doing. "He must've gotten up before me," Elizabeth acknowledged smiling before a deep yawn and a monstrous grumble in her stomach. A fragrant aroma diffusion into the room. She adjusted her glasses, observing the time from the blue light of her phone. It's after nine. Neither of them had to work today. "I better get up," Her legs slid over the edge. She stood up before her thighs wobbled, forcing her to use the bed as a crutch. "Oh fuck," Elizabeth groaned at her burning legs. She gingerly calculated each step towards her bag like a newborn foal learning to walk. "Ow, ow, ow, ow," The theorist winced, stuffing into the bathroom with a towel, clothes, and travel bag.
Lincoln set the table for him and his guest. Today's meal includes bacon and egg frittata with three kinds of cheese and chopped mushrooms. "Fuck, that actually happened," He muttered while pouring two glasses of orange juices. Everything he said and did. It can't be erased. What happened … happened. He can't ask Lisa to time travel. Too risky. "At least it'll keep them busy for a while," Lincoln rationalized, turning to the stove and putting on his oven mitt. Also, he got a reliable booty call. His lips cruelly curved upwards. There's nothing Samuel can do about it. He won't risk the continuation of humanity—the sacrifice of one for the untold many. "Morning Elizabeth," The blue-eyed male greeted his toy holding his cast iron skillet.
"Morning," She responded softly, approaching the table. Her body was sore from the other night and damped from the shower. He glanced at her plain spacecraft t-shirt and her default pink track pants.
"You're right on time. I just finished cooking breakfast," Lincoln smiled, cutting the frittata into wedges. She grinned at the scrumptious dish, taking a seat. This agreement won't be so bad. He and his father were always great cooks. Her fork dug into the chewy meal, glancing at her phone. No notifications from the usual accounts. Did they get deleted, or did an outage happen? No. Samuel received the messages. So it wasn't her. Lincoln took a seat as well, scribbling in his notebook. He observed her bewildered expression scrolling through her phone. Remembrance sparkled in her eyes, discovering posts about her old hobbies. Tabletop games, Sci-fi novels, and extraordinary photos of celestial bodies. Huh, she forgot about some of these things. He smiled at the gentle curved as she eased her body.
"Is that a new character for a show?" Elizabeth remarked on his sketches, wiping the egg crumbs from her mouth.
"Kinda. It's for my mom's new book," Lincoln answered, tapping his pen against his lip. "She's going with a theme of confirmation bias," He revealed, writing down his thoughts. His arctic eyes pierced her being. "You know what that is?" His empty silvery voice questioned.
She swallowed her food. "No, but I've heard about it," Elizabeth admitted. Why does it feel like an interrogation?
"Confirmation bias is when you only find facts that support your side of an argument. Like cherry-picking," Lincoln explained, taking a sip of his tangy orange juice. She frowned, hesitating to answer. "This character only seeks whatever the most appealing to their worldview. It doesn't matter how fallible their beliefs are or how dangerous it is. They're sticking with it, utterly blind and narrow-minded to any other perspective besides their own. Ignoring their loved ones for the approval of something that never cared about them," The gravity of his words took root in her brain. Was it about her? Not it can't be. She's a logical and reasonable person. They don't see the connections between events like her and Samuel. "My mom is hosting a book club meeting to discuss. Patricia will be there too. It's a been while since you three had fun together," Lincoln suggested soothingly with a disarming smile.
"I…would like that," Elizabeth agreed with a faint smile, thinking of her best friends. Maybe she can talk to Zachary about his discoveries. They finished their meal as Lincoln waited for her. She fixed her crocs before approaching the table.
"Do you have a ride?" Lincoln asked, getting up from his couch.
"I texted Sam while I was brushing my teeth," Elizabeth confirmed
"Good, but first," Lincoln's eyes intensified, outstretching his hands. "Your underwear from the other night. I want them," He commanded, offering no room for negotiation. These were his. Her cheeks blazed crimson from the request. She unzipped her bag and maintained docile eye contact while searching for the desired object.
"Here," Elizabeth whispered, placing the damp clothing in his hand.
"Good girl," Lincoln said while stuffing it into his pocket. He pulled her into his vicinity, capturing her lips. Her startled eyes widen at the swift action before closing them in enjoyment. Their mouths smacked, sensing each other's roaming hands. She focused on his toned chest and shoulders. He targeted her slender waist and plump ass, grabbing two handfuls. Elizabeth moaned in his mouth from her pussy lips opening through the fabric. "I'll see you later," He promised another session in a smoky tone.
"Yes, sir," Elizabeth confirmed, releasing their embraces. He escorted her to the door before delivering a smack of ownership on her rump. "Oh! My ass is still sore," She giggled, closing the door behind her.
Lincoln gazed at the panties hanging out of his pants. "Maybe this won't be a bad idea," He remarked while dialing his mother's number.
"Hello," Rita answered. Did it work?
"She agreed to the book meeting," Lincoln relayed the information, twirling the undergarments around his finger. Rita sighed, thanking whatever deity granted this opportunity. Lincoln did his part, and it was her turn.
"Looks like there's going to be a part two," Lisa predicted from the cliffhanger. "Hopefully after Tabby & Sweater Chapter," She scrutinized. Hey, I've been busy lately! "Right…" Her eyes rolled at the paper-thin defense. An invisible hand slapped the back of her head. "OW!" She yelled from the unexpected attack.
"Please don't taunt the author," ISSAC warned his creator.
"Whatever," Lisa grumbled, easing into her chair. "Hopefully, I get a chance at a chance,"
Get off my back, Lisa. I've been busy lately with work and taking breaks. Hope that you guys enjoyed this little passion project. I'm glad that I got this out of the way.
Thanks for reading the story. Follow and favorite to be notified on an update. Leave a review to show your support and for any questions or theories. Thank you and have a good day. :)