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The Book of Ruth: Doing Ruth Pt. 03

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Author’s note: This episode of an extended romantic memoir is probably fictional, even the violence. All sexual acts involve humans of age 18+. Views expressed are not necessarily the author’s. For readers’ convenience, most non-Anglish-language communications are presented in loose Anglish translation.

You do not NEED to read the first two episodes (BEFORE RUTH and COMING FAST), but doing so will not hurt. You DO need to read the prior chapters (DOING RUTH


) or this will not make total sense. Coming soon, the tragic final episode: EATING OUT, currently underway. It should be up about a month after this chapter posts.

***** THE BOOK OF RUTH: Doing Ruth
of 3 *****

– 1990 – simmering summer sex

I slid into consciousness with the usual wake-up call: Ruth’s experienced mouth slurping my growing, growling cock. No, this was not something I could sleep through, even had I wished.

My eyelids eased open. Ruth’s dark eyes peered from her aquiline face as her long tongue worked its wet, stimulating magic.

“Morning, honey,” she mumbled around my thickening shaft.

Not much magic was needed to quickly grow my morning wood from a willow wand to a mighty oak. Erect, I have been measured: eight inches long and a little less than two inches thick. Ruth had great fun with my roughly twenty cubic inches of manhood.

Yeah, great fun. More fun than *I* had. Morning wood means a full bladder, which means I don’t cum.

Ruth had no such limitation. She achieved her goal; I was painfully erect, and as well-lubricated as her anxiously dripping pussy. It was time for my regular morning rape.

My sensuous wife crawled up my weary body and straddled my hips with her taut thighs. She leaned forward, licked my lips, and sat back.

“Ready?” she asked.

She did not await my reply.

Ready, aim, insert, sigh. Roll and rock and bounce on me. Press her clit against my pubic bone. Slide and pound. Ruth controlled the pace, angle, and depth. I was only the willing fucktoy, handy for providing the juiced-up protrusion and for handling her breasts, pinching and nipping her fluffy nipples, till she wailed with a long, drawn-out, slowly-convulsive orgasm.

“Ohhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkk,” she moaned.

And she settled in for more.

She bounced. Her large, firm, stand-up-on-their-own breasts swayed magically in front of my face. I leaned up to suckle like a starving infant.

My bloated bladder meant my petrified wood would remain rock-hard for quite a while. Oh, she used me! Slide and bounce and pound and groan, and again, and again, at least a half-dozen times before she finally fell off me.

I grabbed Ruth, stuck my tongue down her throat, tickled her tonsils for half a minute, and rolled out of bed. Piss call! I sluiced down the toilet like a fire hose and watched Ruth on mirrored bathroom walls. Her eyes never left me; her sly smile never faded. I cleaned off and dived back into bed.

Round Two: I pulled Ruth atop me for a tasty 69. I devoured her steaming pussy while she quickly stiffened me. My tongue traced the familiar outlines of her puffy labia and circled her swollen clit, slurping. She came once more, groaning and shuddering, before bailing off me into doggie position. She spread her knees and looked over her shoulder.

“Your turn, baby,” she murmured.

I watched her heart-shaped butt, those smooth, tight cheeks, her twitching pussy glistening in the morning light, her leering face half-hidden by a cascade of chestnut hair. Fuck yeah, it’s my turn!

Round Three: No soft, tender lovemaking. Nothing slow or careful. Only a hearty, pounding fuck, my fingers digging into her hips as I slammed faster and harder, my twenty cubic inches of meat pistoning in and out, gleaming on the out-strokes, burning on the in-strokes, slap-slap-slap, till I exploded deep inside her, blasting streams of living sperm into her willing womb.

I groaned. Ruth yelled. I collapsed on her, still embedded. We panted.

Ruth pushed me off her, onto my back. She rolled between my legs and took me into her mouth again, carefully licking and cleaning our juices from my cock. Her almost-black Hunter Green eyes stayed fixed on mine.

She was twenty-four now and I was thirty so my revival took a few minutes. Did we have time for Round Four, a languid missionary fuck? The buzzing alarm said no. Goddam workdays…

We slid together into the shower. Ruth dropped to her knees for a forthright blowjob and testicle massage as water streamed over us. I happily filled her mouth, and happily tasted myself when she stood to kiss me. We broke apart when the alarm buzzed again, louder. Last call! We dried and dressed.

Just another morning in our marriage.


Life seemed to calm down. The calm before the storm? It all comes crashing?

I’m getting way ahead of myself, as usual. Ruth and I had been married just over a year now. A strange year. The weird wedding after Katia’s awful funeral. The breakup canlı bahis şirketleri with my big sister over her amoral business dealings, and she and her girlfriend using me, raping me. And Mom’s games.

I told myself, “Randall Orson van Ronk, you face a… situation. In the last few years you’ve impregnated your mother Nina, your sister Jill and her girlfriend Gabrielle, your wife’s mother Deborah and older sister Rachel, and your wife’s friend Katia’s stepmother (and lover) Juanita. But not your own wife. WhatTheFuck?”

“No babies right away, okay?” Ruth had said seriously after the wedding. “I’ve just started at LACMA and…”

“No sweat, babe,” I had responded, licking her big soft brown areolae like beaded pads, nibbling her stiff pencil-eraser nipples. “I know you need to establish your career. When the time is right, sure.” I nibbled her to moans. “But we can keep practicing, right?”

She had fucked me to death, as usual. No need to argue.

Ruth was quickly becoming a star at LACMA, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, located just a few blocks from the modernist mini-mansion we had inherited from Ruth’s late father Allen. It was a nice easy commute when she was in town. But her rising star shone brightly by jetting about the western hemisphere, negotiating art loans and exchanges for spectacular exhibitions. She was lucky to be home three weeks out of four.

My own materials consulting business was doing well. Truth be told, we had enough money that neither of us needed to work, not for financial reasons. But neither of us was ready for a lifetime vacation. So yes, we needed to work, because our psyches drove us onward.

I could, and did, arrange some synchronization of our schedules. I worked on consults in central Mexico when she had negotiations in Zacatecas, or in the Caribbean during her meetings there. We turned these into mini-vacations.

Still, there were times my business took me somewhere in the Americas for a day or four, or kept me in Los Angeles when Ruth was elsewhere. We tried to take these brief separations in stride. Our reunited sex was even hotter than usual. Did I screw around when I was not with her? No, I actually kept my cock locked down. I was becoming monogamous, growing up, slowing down, and trading quantity for quality. That is what I told myself.

I told myself lots of stuff. I tried not to lie to myself. Deceiving others is one thing; self-deception is at best futile, at worst self-destructive. So I tried to tell myself the truth.

Basic question: Did I love Ruth? Did I love anybody? Was I capable of loving anybody now? I considered. I had loved my childhood pets. I used to love my sister, and I love my mom, although we had finally stopped sleeping together. (Yes, Jill and Nina seduced me when I was eighteen. See THE BOOK OF RUTH: BEFORE RUTH for details.)

I think I loved Katia when she was alive. I know I had not loved Deborah or her older daughter Rachel; we were just very, very good fuck-buddies.

And Deborah’s younger daughter Ruth? Truth be told, she caught me on the rebound after her best friend Katia’s death. Ruth and I were not really close before then. Sure, I had known her off-and-on for half her life, and she said she had loved me that whole time, but still…

How much truthiness could I take? Ruth and I sure had fun – very intense, monogamous fun. I did not bother suggesting threesomes although I fantasized such. Jill and our mom and I’d had many threesomes over a decade.

I was happy just being with Ruth. That is what I told myself.

I did not tell myself that I loved her.

I did not explicitly tell Ruth, either. She constantly professed her love for me. I jokingly responded with, “You’re pretty good, too!” or, “Of course you do!” or, “Good thing!” or, “That’s only logical.” I sometimes called her Lover. But I just could not bring myself to say, “I love you.” That did not feel truthy. I may be amoral but I just could not utter that not-quite-truth.

Love is fulfillment. Loves fills us. I did not feel filled. I felt lacunae of emptiness within me, holes in my heart where Katia, and Jill, and even our runaway Dad used to be. I felt my love leak through those holes. I tried to glue those holes shut with diversions. Right.

Whatever I felt for Ruth, it was not really love, but it would do for now.


I had a service keep track of Jill’s movements so I could avoid being anywhere near my depraved older sister.

I needed no detectives to tell me of the whereabouts of mom and Deborah and Rachel and Juanita, the other women I had been close to and had knowingly (if not always willingly) knocked-up. We had communications and encounters.

The encounters were not always warm and fuzzy.

Ruth and I enjoyed a mid-week reunion at home. Her plane arrived at LAX from Guadalajara the same early October day I returned from Juneau. We desecrated our bedroom (and several other rooms) with make-up sex from our week apart. We canlı kaçak iddaa went AWOL the next day to visit Black’s Beach, San Diego’s best clothing-optional plage. We eased down the Salk Canyon trail to the sands and walked skyclad below steep bluffs, exhibiting our firm, toned-up flesh and visually exploring those around us.

Our rule: Look, but do not touch others. And be sure to lather-on the SPF-100 goop. Sunburn is not sexually stimulating. Ouch.

We unrolled our big blue beach blanket and stretched to catch the late-morning sun. Time passed. Feeling my ballcap pulled back from my eyes roused me from my drowsy relaxation – that, and a, “Hi there, kids.”

I looked skyward – straight up my mother-in-law’s tennis-toned legs to her fluffy muff and damp snatch. Her well-known tasty breasts swung invitingly near as she bent to push the ballcap back down on my face. Ruth and I both sputtered and sat up.

“Mom! What are…? Oh, hi, Avram. Where are the…?”

Ruth was interrupted as two fleshy little fireballs slammed into “Unca Ron” and “Anty Ruth”. Hairy naked Avram, like a grizzled cast-iron teddy bear, beamed at the twin ankle-biters. I guess he still thought they were his.

Ruth knew better. She brushed aside her little attackers, grimaced at me, and then gave her mother a frosty glare.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” Ruth said. “And with the kids, yet.”

Ruth did not like to be reminded of my long-term affairs with her mother and sister; her relations with them had been chilly since after our marriage. They reciprocated her coolness.

“Yes dear, even the kids. We can’t just leave them home,” Deborah scowled.

One of the twins ran full-tilt into Ruth; little hands grasped her appealing breasts. “Ohhh, you’re nice, Anty Ruth!” My wife managed to laugh.

The naked twins ran squealing down the beach. Avram yelled, “Hey, wait!” and stumbled after them.

Deborah still stood over me; her familiar pubes hovered less than a foot from my face. She smiled warmly at me and rubbed my shoulder.

“You’ve been traveling again, right, Randy? You look like you’re just out of jet lag. Anything interesting?” Her fingers lazily traced my jawline.

“Quit it, Mom! He’s mine! You can’t have him any more. Just what do you-“

“Oh, calm down, girl! I don’t need him now. Of course, if you can’t take care of him, I could always-“

“You could always what? Squeeze some more babies out of him?”

Deborah looked nervous. Ruth rose and stood beside her mother. I gazed at their naked bodies and could not help but compare them: both tall, dark, trim and taut and tanned, great tits, slim waists, fine legs, firm butts, enticing hips, curly pubes, with long walnut-brown hair tied in ponytails. Similar beautiful and sexy expressions of a common genetic code. Their fluffy brown muffs were both at my eye level as I sat on the blanket.

Ruth leaned into Deborah. My wife’s fingers poked her mother’s firm breasts.

“Yeah, Mom, you think I don’t know where my little brother and sister came from?” She turned to glare down at me. “And you, mister… I know you were doing Mom before and after I married you. No more! You know that!” She jabbed Deborah again. “You still keeping the secret from Avram?”

“Stop poking me, young lady.” Deborah brushed Ruth’s fingers away and moved even closer to me. Ruth moved closer too. The women were facing-off right against me. No matter which way I turned my head, I had a pussy in my face.

Do you think I was tempted to use my tongue in both directions? Bingo! But no, not on a public beach, and not with Avram in the vicinity.

“No, Avram’s never going to know, not from my lips, and not from yours either, girl. I can’t bear children with Avram; our genes are wrong. But these are Avram’s kids in every important way. Just like you’re Allen’s daughter-“

“What do you mean, just like…?” Ruth’s voice cracked. “Oh, Mom, are you telling me…?”

“I’m telling you that you and Rachel are both Allen’s daughters and don’t you forget it!”

“Real daughters, Mom? Biological daughters? Or just Daddy daughters?”

I almost wished my eyeballs were not surrounded by dark fluffy muffs. I could not see the women’s faces, could not see their expressions. My only hints of their moods were their vocal tones, their strained muscles, and their increasingly-fragrant vaginal secretions. Such spicy scents! Only with great difficulty and keen self-control did I restrain my tongue.

But I could inhale! Ahhh…

Have I mentioned that Deborah and Ruth and even Rachel seem like a matched set? They are almost six feet tall, a few inches shorter than me, and just as lean except for superb feminine curves. Deborah and Rachel gave me a good preview of Ruth’s likely appearance in ten and twenty years. Nice!

I saw Avram in the distance herding the twins toward us. The women argued as if I was not sitting right between their pussies. I pushed at their thighs.

“Umm, ladies, I think you canlı kaçak bahis might want to cool off-“

“You stay out of this!” Ruth steamed.

I slapped my wife’s ass. “Look, they’re coming back. You want Avram to see and hear this little contretemps?”

Both stepped away and crossed their arms and glared at each other. The twins ran up and tackled their mother, knocking her onto the blanket beside me. I stood and wrapped an arm around Ruth’s shoulder as teddy-bear Avram stumbled up.

“Whew! Sorry about that, guys. These monsters are a real handful.” He beamed at ‘his’ kids. He did not mind leering at his wife’s and daughter-in-law’s nude luscious bodies, either, even as the twins wrestled with their hot MILF mother. But his smile faded when he saw the women’s strained postures and jaws-clenched faces. “Um, is something…”

Avram looked perplexed. I felt it prudent to put a similar expression on my face. I tried to project, “Huh? Don’t ask me. I know nothing.” I shrugged.

I chatted with Avram for a few minutes. Deborah played with the kids and seemed to ignore us. Ruth glared at her but managed to contribute a few words to our guy-talk. The twins ran off again; Avram lumbered after them. Deborah stood. I picked up and shook off the blanket and rolled it tightly.

“Umm, we should get going,” I suggested.

Deborah swayed against me for a deep hug; her warm, impressive breasts pushed into my chest. Ruth bridled and clutched her mother’s arm.

“Mom! Leave him alone! I’m not going to warn you again!”

“Yes, I love you too, girl,” Deborah smirked. “You’d just better take good care of him. I’d-“

Ruth grabbed my arm and tugged me from her mother’s embrace. I looked back as my wife dragged me away from my mother-in-law.

“Umm, see ya sometime, Deb. Say g’bye to Av for me, will ya?”

Ruth almost frog-marched me back to the Salk Canyon trail. We dressed and ascended in silence. She dragged me to our new silver SAAB and sat in the passenger seat. I sat behind the steering wheel but just stared at her.

She stared back. “Well? Are we going home or something?”

“Sure, eventually. But we talk first. Look, I haven’t touched your mom or sister since… since a long time. I’m yours now. Exclusive. Married. One man, one woman, that stuff. I didn’t come here expecting Deb to-“

“You brought us to San Diego on a nice day and didn’t expect them here when they live just a couple miles away? Yeah, right.” She looked away.

I gripped Ruth’s jaw and turn her face to mine.

“Yeah, right. No arrangenments. Pure chance – but we are in their neighborhood, and you knew we’d be here, and you didn’t bitch at me when we drove here. So don’t give me this fucking attitude.”

I pulled out heads together and kissed her, hard, almost brutal. I pushed her face away.

“Yes, I’m yours. Yes, you’re mine. Fuck the biology and the history – the twins are Avram’s, not mine, no matter who they look like. Deb is Avram’s, not mine. You and me, we’re in this together, just us, and you should know that.”

I pulled her in for another tough kiss.

Ruth’s tense body relaxed. Her jaws opened. Her tongue pressed against mine, soft, wet. She pushed my face from hers.

“Yeah, that’s right, and don’t you forget it, buster.”

She leaned over the between-seats console to kiss me again. She bit my tongue, pulled back, and laughed.

“Now take me somewhere and fuck me. Fuck ME, not my mom, not my sister, ME! Too bad we didn’t bring the van; we could be fucking right now!”

I did not want to wait till we returned to Los Angeles. I spun us up toward the foothills and into a lemon grove, around behind a few rows of trees that hid us from the road. I jumped out and trotted to the passenger side. Ruth unbuckled her harness and opened her door. I pushed her down in the seat just as she swung her bare legs out. I shoved her blue tee up off her tits.

“Hey! What-“

I pulled Ruth’s tan sports shorts and blood-red thong down and off her feet. I rolled her over and pushed her onto her knees on the car seat. I pulled her naked ass out as far as possible and spread her thighs. My shorts and knickers were already at my feet.

My cock was hard. Her pussy was wet. I firmly inserted tab A into slot B.

“Ouch! Oh fuck! What-“

I slapped her ass, hard. “That’s one!” I shoved my cock into her again.

“Hey! Quit that! You-“

I slapped her ass again, harder. “That’s two!” I went balls-deep into her.

“You sonova bitch! I’m gonna-“

I released her hips and slapped her tits from the sides. “That’s three!” I captured her hips again and started pounding. “You had your chance to play nice. Now you’re just going to take it!” I pounded harder and faster. Just an ordinary brutal no-love-involved fuck fueled by temper and determination and plain ornriness.

Ruth screamed a couple of orgasms.

“Oh, you like that, do you? How about some more?”

I continued pistoning in and out with slight changes of pace and angle. She screamed again. I pulled my cock from her with the clichéd audible ‘pop’. I grabbed her shoulder and flipped her over on her back, then pulled her ankles around and pushed her until her head hung off the seat edge.

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