mother son incest

Dan was comfortably seated in his chair in front of the computer, with both his feet on the computer desk. His right hand was stroking his 7 inch dick, to prevent a quick ejaculation, while his left hand was cupping and massaging his balls. As it was his habit from a couple of years now, he inserted his white butt plug. His breathing was already heavy and drops of sweat were forming on his slender naked body. From time to time he used his index finger to collect a drop of precum and it tasted to him like nectar.

His eyes were glued to the monitor, were he was watching porn. And not just any porn. In time his tastes evolved from regular straight porn, to anal, than to anal mature women and now to mature women and bisexual boys. It wasn’t intentional, he didn’t consider himself gay or even bisexual. But once he opened video file which supposed to be only a threesome with two males and a MILF, and the action was in fact bisexual. From that moment on, he started to search for this type of movies on the internet. And this brought new tendencies in his masturbation. He started fingering his asshole as the actors were fucking each other and after not such a long time, he began experiencing with different objects. But they were all too big or too small or uncomfortable. So he ordered by mail the smallest butt plug from a sex toys site.

On screen, a young guy and a very beautiful blonde in her 40s were licking and sucking each other in a 69, with the woman on top. The blonde was alternating between sucking his cock and another’s guy cock, which was standing in front o her and sometimes she was putting both dicks in her hungry mouth. After a few minutes, the standing guy changed position and penetrated the blond from behind. As his fat dick was going in and out of her pussy, it rubbed directly on his friend’s lips and tongue. And to make it clear for the viewers that it wasn’t by mistake, he took out his dick covered in pussy juice and dived into the other guy’s mouth.

Right at this moment, the door flew open and the room was filled with light. Dan’s heart almost stopped as he saw his mother standing in the door way. She too remained there shocked at the view of her son. After a few seconds, which seemed like ages to both of them, she slowly closed the door and disappeared. Only then Dan changed his position. What would his mother think? How much did she saw? Did she notice what kind of movie he was watching? Or that he had a butt plug in his ass? At this last thought he almost panicked. What would his mom think of him?

He thought about going out of his room and talking to his mother, but what could he tell her? That he had no girlfriend and he didn’t get laid in the last six month? Or that he fancied kinky bisexual sex with mature women? Better if he left the situation like this and waited for his mother to say something first.

Anna wasn’t quite the usual mother. She was a very fit woman, with several tattoos and piercings on her body, which were proof of her wild youth. When she was young she played in rock band and she was always on the move and partying hard. Two years went on like this, with lots of sex with strangers, alcohol and drugs. Than, when she turned 21, she remained pregnant. It was a life changing moment and she decided to keep that baby whose father was absolutely unknown. Probably the result of a gang bang or quick fuck in some club’s toilet. She quit the band and returned in her hometown. The prodigal child was reaccepted by her family and after she gave birth they helped her start her own business, a flower shop.

Her son, Daniel, or Dan as everybody called him, was a tall and slender boy, with a cinnamon like complexion to his skin. He wasn’t very good at sports and instead of playing with other kids, preferred helping his mother in the shop. After college he returned home and become a florist himself, opening a new flower shop under his mother’s brand. The two of them were best friends, going to movies, dinners and trips together. In the evenings they used to watch TV together, drinking a beer and chatting about their day at work and how to further develop their family business. In the last couple of years, since Dan returned from college, they were so busy with work and each other that none of them had time for a relationship.

A few weeks passed since the door incident, as Dan called it, and he started to think that his mother forgot about it, since she didn’t mention it once. And slowly the awkward silences which had appeared between them started to fade way and in no time they were best buddies again. But now she was careful to knock each time she came into his room, and wait for his approval to enter.

In the night of Dan’s birthday they returned from the club at 1 am, both tipsy after partying with their friends and coworkers.

“Let’s have one more drink before going to bed” said Ann and pushed Dan on the couch.

“I’m in for a beer, thank you mom,” replied Dan smiling. He remained seated and waited for his mother to return.

But when she came back, she wasn’t bringing any beer, but a box wrapped with blue ribbon.

“I almost forgot to give you your birthday present!”

Dan started to unpack his gift.

“You didn’t have to, mother, the party was enough for me.”

But his smile disappeared when he saw what was in the box: a dildo, a butt plug, anal beads, tubes of lubricant and some smaller packages that contained women’s lingerie.

“What… what are these…?” asked the young man with a trembling voice?

Ann kneeled on the floor in front of him, took his hands in her hands and looked into his eyes.

“You know I love you and I would do everything for you. I’ve done a lot of foolish things when I was young and I believe I experienced almost everything there is about sex, and I don’t regret one single action. And I believe you should live your life too and enjoy all the pleasures in it. Don’t hide behind my back and masturbate. I want you to experience in real life all the things that excite you. I beg of you, let me help you and you’ll not be sorry”.

Dan was calmer now, the panic that he felt when opening the gift almost completely gone.

“You don’t think that I’m a pervert and I should keep it to myself?” asked Dan with a tremor in his voice.

“No, my love. On the contrary, you should give in to your desires and experiment whatever you, as long as it’s legal and it doesn’t harm your health, of course.”

“I’ll think about it…”

“You promise?”

“Well… yeah…” responded Dan, with a voice that was still full of incertitude.

“I have a proposition for you”, said Ann with a smile on her face. “How about you’ll do your old mom a favor and try the gift I gave you.”

“Wow, mom, you really want this, don’t you?” Now Dan’s voice was slightly naughty.

“Only what’s best for you, my love, only what will help you develop into a strong and balanced man.”

“OK that I’ll go to my room and…”

“No, please Dan!” His mother interrupted his words. “Try it here; it’s my gift after all!”

“But… these are sex toys! And this lingerie, I don’t know what you meant with it. What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Try it on, of course!” Now Ann was laughing with all her heart and kissed his son on both his cheeks.

“Just put it on and if don’t like you give back to me and we shall never speak again about it.”

Maybe it was the booze, maybe the sexual excitation seeing all those shiny sex toys or maybe the view inside his mother’s shirt, where he could clearly see her B cup breasts, but Dan was starting to have a hard on and his mom’s proposition didn’t seem as strange as it supposed to be.

“But I can’t…” whispered Dan blushing and unconvinced, and Ann knew right away that she had won.

“I’ll help you.”

Ann stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Then the jeans. But when Dan remained only in his briefs, with his erection clearly visible, he started to be ashamed again, and covered his groin with his hands.

“Can we have a drink before continuing, mom?”

“Ok, a beer?”

“Beer is fine. And mom…?”

“Yes honey?”

“If I’ll be completely naked and even doing, you know… stuff… with your gift… wouldn’t be fair for both of us to be on an equal position?”

“You want me to be naked also?” She didn’t plan this, but she didn’t dislike the idea either. In fact her pussy was getting wet. “I’ll think about while I’ll get the drink. After all, I’m your mother. But you young man, I want to find you completely naked when I’m back.”

A few minutes past since Dan waited, naked, on the couch. Some traces of shame were still running through his head, but his erection remained firm. He decided to go with the flow. He knew that whatever will happen, mother only wants what’s best for him. In that precise moment, Ann entered the room. She was pretty and sexy like a wet dream: dressed only in a short white nightie, which almost left nothing to the imagination, and wearing a pair of high heels, she brought in two beers on a plate. Dan’s heart began to pump blood faster and all of it felt directed right into his shaft.

“Now mommy’s going to take care of you baby,” said Ann putting the plate on the coffee table. “I’ll show you how it’s done and you’ll repeat after me.”

The beautiful lady turned around and slowly bent her body until her nightie rose up, allowing Dan to see her ass in its entire splendor. It looked so round and firm, like an apple. And between those beautiful legs, he could see the most beautiful pussy, completely shaved. He felt his mouth watering, but knew this was not what his mom had in mind for him. Slowly, Ann put her right hand between her legs and started caressing her pussy and rosebud, spreading the thick pussy juices onto her other opening.

“You like what you see, honey?’

“I love it, mom,” answered the young boy with a trembling voice. He didn’t even touched his cock and already felt like he’ll ejaculate very soon.

“Hold your horses and just watch mommy playing.”

Ann inserted one finger into her ass and started moaning while playing with it.

“It feels so good… please honey, give me the anal beads from the box.”

Dan searched quickly and hand it over to her. She lubed the toy with a lot of spit and started inserting it into her anus. Gently, one by one, the bead were disappearing into her rosebud, starting with the small ones and until the last one, almost an inch in diameter, was gone from sight as well. Ann’s moaning during the process was like a siren’s song to Dan, who kneeled close behind his mother, keeping his eyes fixed on her ass.

And Ann took her hand off the beads, clearly indicating to her son what she wanted. Dan didn’t need much encouragement and started to gently extract the beads, hypnotized by the view of the beautiful pink hole opening each time a bead passed through and closing behind it. He wanted to tuck that ass, kiss it, bite it, but refrained and did only what his mother told him to. When the last bead was out he pushed them back, one by one, accompanied by his mother’s moans and whispers of approval. After several rounds, Ann took hold of the anal beads and turned to him, with her eyes lost in ecstasy.

“Your turn, honey, sit down on the coach,” and as she was saying that she pushed him until he was sitting with his legs apart and a raging hard on pointing the ceiling. First she licked clean the anal beads while with her right hand she started to play with the young man’s anus.

“Tell me if it hurts, ok son? I took a lot of cocks in my ass, so I’m used to it and learned to enjoy it, but you’re almost a virgin. I’ll prepare you first.”

She moisture her index finger with spit and gently inserted in Dan’s ass, who couldn’t suppress a groan of pleasure. Ann was using slow, tender strokes fingering him and watched intently how his shaft was trembling with excitement. After a minute or two she couldn’t refrain any more and broke her last barrier kissed the beautiful cock right on top, savoring her son’s sweet precum. She proceeded by lovingly licking it, kissing and swallowing each of his balls and as she took his whole cock in a deep throat she inserted her middle finger as well. Feeling this simultaneous attack, Dan almost screamed in delight. Already his mom was giving him more that he ever dreamed of receiving from a living creature.

“Mom… I’ll cum… if… you… don’t… stop…” gasped Dan.

“No problem son, I’m sure we can find more in these beautiful balls of yours,” laughed Ann. And she recommenced her loving attacks on his dick and anus. She felt how it was growing and shivering and sucked passionately until thick spurts of cum filled her mouth. Only then she stopped and swallowed all his semen. Finally, she extracted her fingers and looked up to him licking the last drops off her lips:

“”Wow, honey, you’re delicious!”

But Dan was unable to respond. He just lay there, with all his body shivering and covered in sweat. Only his eyes were smiling and were full of love as he looked at his mother.

“I love mom” was all he was able to say after a few minutes.

Ann got up from the floor and cuddled next to him on the couch.

“I can’t wait to continue son. I haven’t cum yet and my pussy is dripping.”

Dan’s mother gathered some drops of pussy juices on her finger and smeared it on his lips. She licked it and felt how her sweetness melted in his mouth. And, as if by miracle, his cock started to grow again.

“It seems that you like my taste. I’d better feed you some more, son.”

And she stranded on top of him, lowering her pussy right onto his face. Dan needed no more encouragements. He started to kiss and lick her lips passionately, getting drunk on her nectar. It was now that he noticed she had a piercing in her clit, and found it to be very sexy. He played with it and put all his oral skills into pleasuring his mom. Ann’s body was rocking on top of him, sometimes almost suffocating him, but he didn’t say a word of protest. Small orgasms were shuddering her body and, finally, she let herself fall into her son’s lap. She started to kiss him gently all over his face and son their mouths were locked in a lustful kiss. They both felt how their love of a life time, between a mother and a son, was now completed by sexual love, as their tongues and bodies melted into each other. Dan’s erect cock was now resting onto her pussy’s velvet folds, trying to find it’s way in.

“No, Dan, wait, not yet. There is still something in your gift you need to try.”

She reached for the box and took two butt plugs, a smaller black one, and bigger one, transparent, made of glass.

“One for you, and for me,” she said smiling. “Lie there, on the floor.”

Like any respectful child, Dan lied on his back, waiting for his mother’s instructions. She laid down between his legs and concentrated again on sucking her new favorite toy, her son’s cock. But this time her kisses and licks went slowly downward until her mouth reached his anus, where she proved to have real skill. In no time, his rosebud, already loosened by the previous fingering, gave way to her tongue. She was tongue fucking him and he loved every part of it. When she felt that Dan was relaxed enough, Ann commenced to gently insert the smaller butt plug. At first he gasped and felt a little bit of pain as his anus dilated around the rubber toy, but when it was completely inside he was covered by a wave of pleasure.

“Will you do the same for me, honey?” asked Ann while handing him the glass butt plug. And to make it easier for him, she moved her body in a 69 position, presenting her beautiful lady parts for him to admire. But this time he only licked for a few seconds her wet pussy and then concentrated onto her pretty pink asshole. As she had done before, it was his turn now to tongue fuck her and to apply gentle sucking motions. When he considered her ready, Dan inserted the butt plug in the right place, listening to her groans of pleasure.

“Now you’ll have to fuck me, because I can’t take any more of these teasing,” said his mother and she impaled herself on her son’s cock. This time he lasted much longer, changing several positions, until he started pumping his semen again inside her. And when the last spasm of gone, they almost immediately felled asleep, embraced, right there on the floor.

To be continued…

All characters are 18 years or older.

This is the first story in a trilogy.

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I was nervous. The School for Culinary Arts was closing, leaving me high and dry for a place to live let alone finishing my diploma. The administration had arranged for me to continue my schooling at the New School for Culinary Arts in Dexton at the end of the summer but I had to vacate my room immediately. My best friend from high school had moved to Dexton but was away at college, but somehow, he found out about my predicament convinced his parents to let me stay at their place. Gary’s mom was picking me up today.

I remembered Gary’s mom fairly well. She was quite pretty and I’d had a crush on her ever since I could remember but her features were still vague in my mind. She had longish, chestnut colored hair and a nice figure, not skinny but not plump either, and great legs. Breasts, well, what can I say? Gary’s mom had nice ones that were on the upper side of medium-sized but struggled to compete with her big, brown bedroom eyes or, for that matter, the pouty lips typically adorned with soft pink lipstick that blended well with a lightly freckled face. Her whole presence screamed I am woman. Well, maybe I remembered her better than fairly well. I distinctly remembered feeling awkward in her presence but knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

Now, Gary’s dad, he made me uncomfortable. He acted like I wasn’t there but managed to make me feel like I was in the way. There was definitely something about me he didn’t like but I had never been able to put my finger on it. I was apprehensive at the thought of living in his house but the idea of being around Gary’s mom on a daily basis drowned that fear.

Still, I was nervous. What if Gary’s mom didn’t like me anymore? She had always favored me over Gary’s other friends and I was the only one she welcomed for a visit even when Gary wasn’t home. As a matter of fact, Gary had faded in my memory but thinking about his mom triggered strong feelings within me.

I paced up and down the hallway of the dorm from the foot of the stairs to the front door where my bags were waiting, on the inside of course; I wasn’t about to venture outside until someone I knew was there. I heard a car approaching as I turned from the stairs and picked up my pace. My heels were clicking loudly on the shining, waxed floor when the car stopped in front. I pushed the old door open to look but didn’t recognize the car, a new one of a make I didn’t know. The driver’s door opened and a woman got out.

“Allen?” the pretty woman called.

I nodded and she smiled, becoming instantly radiant. I picked up my bags and struggled through the doorway with them. Mrs. Robinson rushed up the steps.

“Here, let me help you with those.”

“I can get them,” I protested, but she took one anyway and I continued down the stairs with a suitcase in each hand and one bouncing on its wheels behind me.

She was opening the trunk, looking more beautiful than I remembered in a demure, summery shift that displayed tanned legs to several inches above the knee and matching, bare arms to the shoulders. Her hair fell over her face and she shook her head to fling it back, stooping to keep it from falling forward again.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. The traffic was just brutal.” She glanced at me and then looked back at the car, fumbling with the key. “Oh, shit. I forgot,” she exclaimed, straightening up. She pointed the keys at the trunk and pinched a button in her hand. The trunk popped up and she turned to me, laughing. “I’m such a ditz sometimes. I should be blonde.”

We stuffed my bags in the trunk and Gary’s mom gave me a hug.

“Anything else? Is that all?”

I nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Still a big talker, hey?”

I nodded again and she laughed as she walked around the car.

“It’s open,” she said.

I ran around and got into the car. She pulled away immediately and adeptly sped through the few cars in the curved driveway, paused briefly at the entrance to the college before turning right, and peeled away.

“I’m glad we heard about your situation, Allen, and I’m so happy you agreed to stay with us.”

“I hope I’m not a bother,” I said.

“Nonsense,” Gary’s mom cried. “I’m so bored at home. We’ll have so much fun.” She flashed her smile, then looked back at the road as she steered around a car that was doing the speed limit but was still too slow for her. “You can teach me to cook,” she laughed.

“Yes, of course,” I replied, then added, “not that you can’t…”

“Oh, Allen,” she said, dropping her right hand away from the steering wheel to cover mine.

Despite the thrill of her warm skin, I looked nervously at the road. She patted my hand.

“I’m so looking forward to this.”

She stomped on her brakes, swerved and swore, lifting her hand from mine to make a gesture.

“Oops, I’d better drive and not talk for awhile.”

I settled into corner near the door, angling myself so I could observe Mrs. Robinson, pushing back into the seat out of her line of sight to make myself less obvious. I needn’t have worried. Gary’s mom threw her attention into driving even faster as she maneuvered the car down the road as if it was an obstacle course. No wonder Gary had never learned to drive.

Not that I was unhappy. The way she drove let me refresh my memory with her bodily delights. Mrs. Robinson was truly an attractive woman whose physical attributes matched the effervescence of her personality. Her arms were firm and not flabby though there was little evidence of weight-lifting to attain such perfect form. Her legs, were similarly unmuscled yet looked strong and lithe. She was a natural.

The hem of her dress had slipped up her thighs and continued to creep upwards a tiny bit with every movement of her feet on the gas pedal or the brake. Tiny blondish hairs glinted in the sun for the very inside of her upper thighs which were an unblemished expanse of the softest-looking skin.

Mrs. Robinson said something and I jerked my eyes up in panic at getting caught staring at her legs but she was looking to the left, muttering at another driver as she passed him on the right. Her hand lifted from the wheel, delightfully, because it lifted her breasts momentarily, outlining their wonderful shape as they pressed against the summer dress. I hoped it was a long drive to Dexton. I couldn’t remember how far it was.

Sometime later, Mrs. Robinson pulled off the road into a quaint looking gas station. We had been traveling along a scenic road beside a lake for some miles after a frantic hour on the interstate. Not needing to watch the road so intensely, and unable to find anyone to pass, Gary’s mom had slowed down and caught me looking at her several times. I had blushed the first couple of times and tried to keep my eyes on the road ahead but each time they strayed back. She didn’t seem to mind and I gradually lost my discomfort while I talked to her as an excuse to be looking her way. She remarked on my chattiness, teasing me that it was about time I broke out of my shell.

“But be careful,” she cautioned with a good-natured laugh, “or those girls will make a meal out of a good-looking boy like you.”

That made me blush. Did she really think I was good-looking? I couldn’t remember anyone ever saying that about me.

After getting some gas, we bought some ice cream cones and left. Mrs. Robinson drove at a relaxed pace as she licked her cone.

“Try it,” she said, offering her cone to me.

I shook my head and she withdrew it. Immediately, I regretted my decision. Fortunately, she read my face and offered the cone to me again. I leaned toward her and licked her cone. It was good.

“Yum,” I said.

“Have another,” she replied.

I leaned toward her again but she pulled the cone back an inch. I leaned further and she pulled it away again, laughing. I had forgotten how much she loved to tease. I lunged forward and caught the cone, inadvertently sliding my tongue over her fingers wrapped around the base.

“Yum again,” I chuckled, nervously covering up my innocent indiscretion.

“I hope that tasted good,” she said and I flushed red as I realized she was aware that I had licked her fingers.

“Let me try yours,” she demanded, kindly directing her attention away from my embarrassed face.

I offered my cone. Mrs. Robinson stretched her neck out and opened her mouth but not far enough to reach the cone. I leaned closer but she moved back a bit so I released my seatbelt and shifted into the middle of the seat. I touched the ice cream to her lips and she treated it to a small stab of her tongue, licked her lips, then lavished the cone and my fingers with a long, wet scrape of her tongue. She giggled as she closed her mouth to stop the melting ice cream from leaking away but couldn’t prevent a drop from dribbling down her chin. I peeled the napkin from the base of the cone and used it to dab the drip before it fell on her dress.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered, leaning back, feeling somewhat absolved.

“More,” she insisted.

I tilted the cone toward Mrs. Robinson’s mouth. Just before reaching her outstretched lips, the top scoop teetered forward. Quickly, I swung my hand in and up to break its fall but it toppled anyway and bounced off her chin before plummeting downward. Happily, the forward motion of Mrs. Robinson’s chin as she tried to shove the wayward scoop back onto the cone pushed it into an arc that missed her dress. The blob of butterscotch ripple settled into the crease between her thighs near the hem of her dress.

“Oohhh, that’s cold,” Gary’s mom giggled. “Quick, get it out!”

I stared at the ice cream already starting to melt between her hot thighs.

“Grab it G…, Allen, quick.”

I reached down and, digging my fingers underneath, tried to lift the ball of ice cream but it skidded further up her legs instead.

“Whoa! Don’t get it on my dress,” she cried, dropping the hand holding her own cone down to drag the dress away from the ice cream with her three outer fingers.

Three things happened. First, the remaining rum and butter ice cream in Mrs. Robinson’s cone fell out onto the offending scoop from my cone. Second, Mrs. Robinson’s dress skidded up her thighs until a narrow strip of panty appeared. Third, my mind stopped working.

“Allen. I have to drive. You have to get the ice cream off my legs.”

My eyes were locked onto the narrow strip of panty stretched over a puffy expanse of very female anatomy characteristically demarcated by an intriguing central groove.



“Yes,” I answered thickly.

“Don’t push, scoop it back.”


I turned my fingers around and used them like a hoe, digging the tips between her legs and lifting a finger full of ice cream up and out. I looked around for somewhere to get rid of it, then popped it into my mouth.

I lowered my hand to get some more. I looked at the mess between her legs but my eyes quickly glued onto the strip of pink panty again. Following my eyes and erroneously thinking her dress was in the way, Mrs. Robinson pulled it up further until the whole strip of underwear was revealed and a narrow expanse of sexy, pouting tummy above it. Tentatively, I put my fingers on her legs, close to the panty, and dug them in the groove of her pressed-together thighs, then scooped backwards to retrieve another batch of ice cream. About to get rid of it like before, in my mouth, Mrs. Robinson stopped me.


Startled, I looked to see her waiting with an open mouth. I turned my hand around and ladled the ice cream onto her protruding tongue and inadvertently followed it inside to keep the ice cream from falling off. Her lips closed over my fingers before I could pull them out and she sucked them. I froze, shocked, until she mumbled for me to pull my fingers out. I did but she didn’t loosen her hold to make it easy.

“That was good,” she said when my fingers were finally free. “Get the rest of it.”

I was disappointed when I looked down. There was hardly any ice cream left. It had almost all melted into her legs.

“There isn’t much left,” I said.

“That’s too bad,” Gary’s mom laughed. “They’re good together. I think we’ve discovered a new flavor.”

I laughed too as I dug my fingers between her thighs again, almost touching the pink panty, and dragged them away too slowly. I lifted the little there was left to Mrs. Robinson’s lips and, this time, I moved my fingers over her warm tongue to help her clean it off.

“Mmmmmmm,” she murmured.

“Last one,” I said.


Why hadn’t I said there was more. She wasn’t counting. When I pulled away to return to my seat, her voice stopped me.

“Can you use this to clean my legs while I drive?”

I leapt at the chance, taking the proffered napkin and immediately began wiping her legs.

“Gently,” she said. “I’m not a table.”

So for several minutes, we drove down the country road while I sat next to Gary’s mom, licking the napkin and rubbing it gently up and down her thighs, but I didn’t dare brush against her panty again.

“Thank you, Allen. You’d better buckle up, we’re coming into town.”

I wondered how long she would have let me fondle her legs if the town hadn’t come. It wasn’t until I buckled my seatbelt that I noticed my robust erection. Startled, I glanced at Gary’s mom but she seemed oblivious. Seeing her dress still bunched up on her lap didn’t do anything to relieve the pressure in my pants and it wasn’t until we pulled into the driveway that she pulled the dress down.

She turned off the engine and twisted my way.

“Welcome home, Allen.”

Perhaps she was trying to make me feel at home to brace me for the cool reception I received from Mr. Robinson. He didn’t outright object to my presence but was obviously not thrilled with it either.

“He’s getting grumpier every year,” Mrs. Robinson whispered as she led me to the spare room downstairs in the basement. “Do what Gary does and act like he isn’t even here,” she suggested.

“Gary doesn’t get along with his dad?” I asked, surprised. Gary used to love playing ball with his father.

“They grew apart,” Mrs. Robinson said, then added, “it wasn’t Gary’s fault.”

I would have liked to hear more but she didn’t offer any further explanation. I decided it wasn’t my business and settled for watching Mrs. Robinson’s bottom as she descended the stairs ahead of me. She directed me to a large room that used to be a big, open play area when Gary and I were younger but had been finished into a large bedroom. Gary’s mom deposited my suitcase on the bed and I set the others down near it.

“What do you think?” she asked, slowly waving her arm in a wide arc.

“It’s great, awesome,” I said.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, clearly pleased. She had obviously gone to a lot of work to make it nice.

“There’s an Ipod dock and speakers there, and the TV, of course,” she indicated the flat screen mounted on the wall, “with a blueray player, and a laptop.”

I was blown away. “I don’t know what to say,” I said, overwhelmed by her kindness.

“Don’t say anything,” she said. “If anyone deserves it, you do.”

I didn’t follow her logic but when she stepped close to me and rose up on her toes and kissed me on the lips, all potential argument melted away. She was gone in an instant and I was left wondering if she really had kissed me on the mouth but the tingle on my lips and the lingering press of her breasts against my chest were hard to ignore. I found myself wishing Gary would never come home. I had to get Mr. Robinson to like me, or at least not dislike me, so I could stay forever.

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That proved to be a difficult task. Mr. Robinson barely spoke at dinner other than asking to have the potatoes passed and even then, he didn’t ask me. Afterward, while helping Mrs. Robinson clean up in the kitchen, more to avoid being alone with her husband in the living room, she advised me to ignore him until he started to warm up to me on his own.

“He’ll come around,” she said. “He just doesn’t like change. Anyway, Gary and I want you here, so he’ll just have to adapt.”

I barely heard the last part because when she said, ‘Gary and I want you here’, she had nudged her knee against mine. At that particular instant, Mr. Robinson happened to come into the kitchen. He deposited his empty dessert plate on the counter and turned to go away, looking even grumpier than he had at dinner. I was sure he had seen Mrs. Robinson rub her leg against mine.

“Can we at least have some coffee?” Mr. Robinson asked, though it didn’t sound like a question.

“Sure, honey,” Mrs. Robinson replied sweetly.

As he passed through the doorway, Mrs. Robinson nudged my knee again with hers as if it were a secret method of communication she had devised just for us. The next few days were like that. Mrs. Robinson always found ways to make me aware of her, usually by nudging me with her knee but also by placing her hand on my arm or, a couple of times, stretching her foot out to poke my leg when I was sitting on the same couch as her.

She would ask me to fetch or do something for her, like asking me to check the patio for dishes when she was loading the dishwasher. That was okay. I could go that far outside by myself when someone I knew was close but then she asked me to go farther afield, still in the yard, but out to the very end to get a hand trowel from the shed or to move the sprinkler. I handled those quite well. I was a mess inside the first couple of times but managed to hide it from Mrs. Robinson. She was always very pleased when I finished one of her little tasks, and spoke to me in a flirty voice and rewarded me with an intimate hug which I loved.

Still, I found myself trying to avoid Mrs. Robinson when her husband was home. That was hard to do because she had begun to wear dresses of thinner material that hugged her body so closely it didn’t look like she was wearing any underwear, or at least, stuff that was so flimsy it didn’t show through her clothes. The lack of undergarments on her upper body was obvious because the summer dresses she favored were the type with a loose, low neckline that separated into wide straps that curved over her shoulders before joining again low on her back, under a wide expanse of bare skin.

My nervousness about Mr. Robinson’s presence wasn’t so much that she flirted with me when he wasn’t around but rather that she didn’t stop even when he was there. True she didn’t flirt as overtly but she still did it. I wasn’t afraid that Mr. Robinson would get violent but rather that he would make me leave.

Mrs. Robinson’s more muted flirting in her husband’s presence was usually something like adopting a provocative posture such as reclining on the couch in a way that presented a long expanse of bare leg, or sitting in a way that forced one of her breasts to thrust against her dress to starkly define its form. If I wasn’t looking, she would make a movement or a sound to draw my attention.

One way or another, I was in a constant state of arousal, whether walking around or sitting down. I gave up trying to hide the affect she had on me, that is, to hide my erections, at least from her. It was impossible because I always had one to some degree. When it was harder, usually after an extended display of some part of her body, covered yet not hidden by clothing carefully chosen to be incapable of true disguise, or the casual nudge or light touch of her hand which was becoming more frequent and lingering.

It was on one such occasion, that Mrs. Robinson was lying on the couch with her feet stretched out along it, while Mr. Robinson sat in the chair behind her and I in another across the room. She raised her knees up and that caused her dress to fall from her knees and slide way down her thighs. I hadn’t seen so much of her legs since the day she drove me home but this time my vantage point allowed me to see the glorious curve on the underside of her leg from the knee down as it thickened into her ass.

Almost instantly, I became rock hard and peered over the top of my book at the backside of her legs. Mr. Robinson grunted. I glanced at him, guilt flooding through me. The set of his jaw was stern but he wasn’t looking at me. I had the feeling he was aware of the state of his wife’s dress. I looked back to enjoy it anyway. I simply could not avert my eyes for more than a few seconds.

Mrs. Robinson lifted one foot up and stretched her leg out until her toes pointed toward the upper corner of the room, tensing her calf prettily. Slowly, she let it settle back into its former place. A few minutes later, she repeated the exercise with her other foot. Over the next half hour, she did this several times and my cock got harder and harder.

Once, she let her knees fall apart, opening her legs wide. Sitting directly to her side as I was, I couldn’t see between her legs but I imagined what it would look like anyway and almost came in my pants picturing her exposed pussy, or better, one hidden only by that narrow strip of pink panty I had seen in the car with tufts of chestnut hair peeking out the sides.

I was not particularly interested in sex and wasn’t one to seek porn on the internet but I wanted to fuck this woman so badly I leaked in my underwear. Mrs. Robinson eventually pulled her dress up closer to her knees and braced it with the book she was reading. A few minutes later, she looked over at me and asked if the book I was reading was good, then asked I wanted some tea. I declined, saying I was tired and wanted to get an early night.

After I went downstairs, I heard Mr. and Mrs. Robinson talking. He didn’t sound happy and whatever she was saying in response didn’t ease his mood. Sometime after the altercation ended, I was in bed with the lamp turned on its lowest setting, watching TV with the sound down while my hand absently twiddled with my cock which I had long ago emptied into the toilet. Mrs. Robinson entered the room and moved quickly to the bedside.

“You’re sure you don’t want some tea, Allen?” she asked.

I shook my head, barely able to speak. Mrs. Robinson had changed into her bed attire, a long nightgown that flowed around her legs as she walked. The top was the same shape as the dresses she liked: wide shoulder straps bordering a low neckline. She bent down over me.

“You forgot to give me a kiss goodnight,” she said, hovering over me with pouting lips and dangling breasts.

“I didn’t know… but, we haven’t…”

“I know, but we should start. I’ve been trying so hard to make you feel comfortable, to feel at home. You do like me, don’t you, Allen?”

“Yes, of course,” I stammered.

“Then, kiss me.”

I stretched up and brought my lips to hers, giving her a quick kiss. Mrs. Robinson followed me down as I sank back into the pillow, her lips regaining contact with mine. She kissed me more firmly on the lips but it lasted only a little longer than mine. She pulled up an inch or so.

“Is that all?” she asked, her breasts brushing my chest.

“I… I, uh, I…”

Mrs. Robinson stood up.

“Goodnight, Allen.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Robinson.”

“In real life, Allen, you have to reach for what you want and, if at first you don’t succeed, you must try again.”

Mrs. Robinson walked away. Her back was bare and the filmy nightgown couldn’t hide the fact that nothing else covered her bottom. I guess I was supposed to think about what she meant but my thoughts were captured by her derriere.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next morning, Mrs. Robinson wore a short skirt and t-shirt top that curled around her neck but left her breasts hardly covered. Mr. Robinson looked even less pleased than he had the night before. He seemed torn after breakfast, looking reluctant to leave but sufficiently angry to stomp out of the house, though he left without saying anything.

Mrs. Robinson went out into the backyard to sit in the sun but I stayed inside, afraid that Mr. Robinson would return, angry enough for action. After an hour or so he hadn’t come back and my desire got the better of me. I went outside and sat on the lounge next to Mrs. Robinson. She was reading but as soon as I sat down she dropped her book and started rubbing oil on her legs. It was extremely erotic, the more so because I knew she was putting on a show for me. I wanted to touch her, to offer my services to apply the oil for her, but I couldn’t summon the courage to do it.

After her legs were done, Mrs. Robinson did her arms. She applied the oil in long, slow strokes, much as she’d done her legs. My cock was burning but it got even harder when her hands slipped under the lapel of her shirt to bathe the inner swells of her breasts with oil. Mrs. Robinson lifted the material away and rubbed the oil over her breasts and paid no attention to her enraptured audience who was staring openly at her partly bared breasts. She surprised me when she suddenly swung her legs toward me and sat up, looking directly at me. Boldly, though I felt no courage, I didn’t look away.

“You’re starting to come along, Allen.”

I didn’t know what to say or do. I thought I knew what she was talking about but was afraid to acknowledge it. Luckily, she relieved me of the obligation to respond.

“I’m hungry. Should we have some lunch?”

I nodded, relieved.

There was no further teasing that day until after supper when Mrs. Robinson repeated the leg show on the couch. Mr. Robinson seemed particularly unhappy but after I went to bed, surprisingly, there were no angry voices.

This time, when she leaned down to kiss me goodnight, I tried for a longer kiss and even reached up to lightly grasp her shoulders when she started to pull away in an effort to keep the weight of her breasts on my chest.

“Do you like kissing me, Allen?”


“Do you like looking at my legs while I’m reading?”

I thought about denying it but her expression demanded honesty.


“Gary’s father doesn’t like it.”

“I know,” I acknowledged.

“But you look anyway?”

“I can’t help it,” I admitted, blushing.

“That’s alright, Allen. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?”

“No. It makes me feel pretty and warm inside.”

“It does?”


Mrs. Robinson leaned down to kiss me briefly again, increasing the weight of her breasts on my chest so much I felt them flatten out.

“Do you feel warm inside when you watch me?”

I blushed again.


“Good,” Mrs. Robinson whispered, “but you’re not allowed to look at my legs again unless you do something for me.”

“What?” I asked.

“Go to the store for me to get a few things.”

“By myself?”

“Yes. By yourself, but it’s only to the corner store. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Mrs. Robinson’s breasts became heavier and her lips nuzzled mine.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Good,” she sighed, and kissed me, lingering longer than before.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next day, I went to the corner store and returned with a small carton of milk. I didn’t tell Mrs. Robinson that I ran all the way back and she didn’t ask why I was breathing so hard. I was disappointed that she had changed from the short skirt she had been wearing into a longer dress. She noticed me looking at her covered legs.

“Tonight, Allen, after Mr. Robinson gets home.”

My disappointment showed.

“There, there. You can wait for a few hours, can’t you?”

The sadness that had enveloped me did not diminish with her promise. I had gone all the way to the store, on my own. I was expecting an immediate reward.

Mrs. Robinson relented. “Would you like a quick peek?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

Mrs. Robinson bent over slightly and grasped the hem of her skirt. She lifted it up a bit, smiling when my eyes became more intense.

“You do like my legs, don’t you, Allen?”


The dress lifted higher, half way up her thighs.

“Do you really like them?”

“Yes, I really like them.”


“Really, really like them?”

“Yes, I really, really, really like them.”

“That much?” Mrs. Robinson laughed. “Oh, my.”

I forgot to nod because her hand had continued to pull the dress up, and up, and up, and finally bared the lower part of her panties, yellow ones this time. The dress kept rising until Mrs. Robinson’s belly appeared and the arms of the panties arching over her hips.

“Do you like my panties, Allen?”

I nodded speechless as Mrs. Robinson twisted her torso very slowly, just far enough to show the jut of her ass before turning back.

“Would like me to wear them tonight, or do you prefer the pink ones?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t believe her admission that she knew I had seen the panties she had worn the day she picked me up.

“With Mr. Robinson sitting right behind me?”

My cock lurched at her acknowledgement that she had knowingly teased me in front of her husband.


“Okay, if you really want me to.”

Mrs. Robinson dropped the dress, walked over, and leaned against me.

“It does make me feel warm inside when you look at me like that.”

She stretched up on her toes and kissed me.

“I think it would be safer if you went to your room until supper.”

I didn’t want to but I did as she asked.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

That night, Gary’s mom put on a very good show. She managed to rub her legs and feet together which was very sexy. Her legs seemed to have been oiled which reminded me of the day she had oiled them in front of me, and her breasts. When she parted her legs, I vividly imagined the tiny yellow panties stretching over her pussy and, this time, I knew there wasn’t enough hair to peek out the sides. From what I’d seen that morning, there might not be any hair there at all.

Near the end, she turned to look at me, casting her eyes behind her as if to ask if her husband was watching. I shook my head in minute denial. Her hand grasped the hem of her dress on my side and pulled it up and over her hip. There were no panty arms. She wasn’t wearing any underwear!

Later, when she came down to kiss me goodnight, I couldn’t hide the thrust of my erection under the blankets. When she looked at it, it became even harder.

“Do I make you feel that good, Allen?”


“Good, because tomorrow, I want you to do something else for me.”

“Go to the store?”


Gary’s mom leaned over me. The nightgown she wore tonight was cut lower and her breasts were almost falling out.

“But this time, I want you to get some new running shoes for yourself. I’ll give you the money.”

“Running shoes? From where?”

“The mall.”

Fear rose up and grabbed my heart in its fist. I started to shake. Mrs. Robinson leaned close until her breasts grazed my chest and hung in front of my face.

“Allen. Focus.”

“The mall is a long way. I don’t know…”

Mrs. Robinson stretched her leg out and put her foot onto the bed.

“It’s only a few blocks. Do you want to feel how warm you make me?” she husked.

I couldn’t speak but my eyes provided an answer. Gary’s mom climbed over me and lowered herself full length onto my body. I could feel her warmth even through the covers, especially the heat emanating from her groin.

“Can you feel it, Allen?”


I was so excited, I forgot about the mall. Her groin was positioned directly over mine, her pussy pressing against my erection. My cock twitched.

“Will you go to the mall for me, Allen?”

My cock twitched again.

“Will you let me feel how warm you are every time we kiss goodnight?”

She laughed. “Allen, that’s very good. You should ask when you want something, even if you can’t have it.”

“You mean, I can’t?”

“I didn’t say that. Usually people don’t get what they want so you have to pick the right time to ask, like now, when you have something to trade. You have to go to the mall first.”

“Okay,” I responded, bravely.

I put my hands on Mrs. Robinson’s shoulders so she wouldn’t pull away. I pushed up, holding tight but instead of pulling away, she pressed down.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

While I kissed her, our private parts pressed together through the blanket. My hands slipped from her shoulders and cupped the sides of her breasts which were flattened on my chest. I couldn’t squeeze under them and didn’t really try. Maybe one day I would ask if I could see them. A fleeting sense of unease passed through my mind. Why was Gary’s mom doing this? She never had before, at least, not that I could remember. Then, Mrs. Robinson’s mouth moved on mine and my discomfort dissipated.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The guy in the sports store thought I was weird. I had stumbled in and handed him the money Mrs. Robinson had given me, barking, “I need some running shoes,” before slumping into a chair. He measured my foot while I struggled to control my dizziness and tried to look like I was simply disinterested.

I looked at the open entrance to the store. Run out, my mind screamed, but another part, the bit that had been activated by Mrs. Robinson’s suggestive behavior, exerted more control. You’ve come this far, suffered this much, if you run it will all be for nothing. You can do it, and think of the reward, think of what’s waiting for you at home.

I pictured Mrs. Robinson reclining on the couch, legs fully displayed, calling to me despite her husband’s presence. My mind discorporated from my body and swung around until I was gazing between her widespread knees, observing her pink panties between the fingers of a hand placed more to attract than obscure. From what I could see of them, the panties were alive. Mrs. Robinson was speaking but I could barely hear her, Act normal, Allen. You can do it if you try. Do it for me. Her other hand stroked slowly up and down the inside of her thighs.

“Would you like to take these, sir?”

I looked at the salesman and my head suddenly cleared.

“Yes,” I replied. “I’ll wear them.”

“Okay, I’ll box these up for you,” he said, lifting my old shoes.

“That won’t be necessary. Just throw them away for me,” I said.

“But they’re almost new,” the salesman protested.

“I was just kidding,” I laughed.

It wasn’t normal to leave your shoes behind when you bought new ones, or to tell the salesman to keep the change which is what I was about to do in my hurry to leave. Painful as it was, I waited patiently for the man to put my shoes in the box for the new runners, ring up the sale, and hand me the change. I didn’t even run out of the store and, surprisingly, I didn’t hurry out of the mall. In fact, I strolled home at a leisurely pace, my head full of thoughts about Mrs. Robinson. I can do this, I could do anything, for her.

I was crushed to see Mr. Robinson’s car parked in the drive when I got home. I went around back, planning to enter through the kitchen in order to avoid him but as I approached the back door, I heard voices through the open window.

“You’re going too far, Joan. It’s going to get out of control.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you? You’re constantly flirting with him, and showing off your legs like that on the couch, for God’s sake.”

“I was not showing off my legs. I was just reading.”


“Okay, so I was flashing my legs. So what? Do you know he went to the store to get milk yesterday, and do you know where he is right now?”


“I’ll tell you where. He’s gone to the mall to get a pair of running shoes.” The triumph in Mrs. Robinson’s voice was palpable.

“Joan, for Christ’s sake, you didn’t send him to the mall by himself. Jesus H. Christ!”

“He’ll be fine.”

“That’s too much. It’s too soon.” Heavy footsteps receded.

“Don’t you dare go down there. You’ll ruin everything I’ve done.”

“He can’t do that. It’s too much,” Mr. Robinson cried, surprising me with his obvious concern for my welfare.

“He can, and he will. He’ll do it for me.”

“Why? Do you think flashing your silly legs can overcome…”

“Shut up! You promised me you wouldn’t talk about that.”

Panicked by the threat of an imminent physical confrontation, I beat a hasty retreat, running around to the front of the house, the first time I had used my new runners for what they were meant to do. I took a deep breath and opened the door. The muffled words became louder but immediately stopped.

“Hi, I’m home.”

Mrs. Robinson beamed while I showed off my new runners but she couldn’t have looked at me with more interest that Mr. Robinson. He seemed to be truly amazed. Why? It wasn’t that big a deal to go to the mall. In fact, I was going to ask his wife tonight if she wanted me to get anything else for her tomorrow. Boy, if he was mad about her showing off her legs, he’d go ballistic if he saw her lying on top of me. But right now, he didn’t seem the least bit mad. In fact, he seemed tremendously pleased and I felt a little guilty.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

We had been kissing and nuzzling for several minutes. My hands had slid down Mrs. Robinson’s shoulders onto her back and I was lightly brushing my fingers over the bare skin there. Every time I urged my hardon upward, I kissed her for a distraction. Still, I knew she was aware of the effort to satisfy my carnal urges and perhaps excite her into doing more than she intended.

Clearly, Mrs. Robinson had set her mind to relieving her son’s friend of his minor affliction, my fear of being alone, especially outside or in crowded places, by using her charms as the candy of persuasion. Well, it had worked and I intended for it to keep on working as long as more treats were offered. I thought about offering to fetch additional things from the mall but then worried that my interests might be better served if there was still doubt about the continued success of my cure.

Mrs. Robinson pressed her knees into the mattress beside me to lift her pelvis up, away from my searching hardness.

“I was really scared there for a while,” I said, sliding my hands down to the middle of her back and applying gentle downward pressure, urging her center to return.

“But you overcame it,” she responded, pride in our mutual accomplishment evident in her voice.

“I almost didn’t,” I said. “I almost ran back.”


“Yes,” I said, without offering further explanation.

Mrs. Robinson looked concerned. I chose that instant to bulge my cock upwards while pressing my hands firmly into her back.

“But you managed to compose yourself?” She succumbed to the pressure of my hands.

“Yes. I thought of you, and being here with you like this.” I pushed my erection up and she didn’t pull away. “That’s the only thing that saved me.”

“See, you can do it.”

“Only because of you,” I whispered, tugging on her waist and moving my hardon around. “I couldn’t do it if it wasn’t for you.”

“No, you did it on your own. You don’t need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Allen, Mr. Robinson is getting very suspicious. I really shouldn’t have let our little flirting game go so far.”

“I can’t do it without your help. I’ll go again tomorrow but I can’t unless you promise you’ll keep helping me.”

“I can’t help you forever, just until you’re comfortable on your own.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Robinson.”

I pushed up for another muted grind and covered myself with more talk.

“Mr. Robinson wants me to do it to. I think he likes me better now.”

“Of course he does,” Mrs. Robinson said, holding my face in her soft hands.

“I didn’t think he did before,” I said, and engaged her in a kiss.

For the first time, I slipped the tip of my tongue between Mrs. Robinson’s lips, fully expecting to be rejected. I wasn’t. It felt so great, I almost forgot to press my erection into her belly. Almost.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

“You got everything?” Mrs. Robinson exclaimed, looking at the pile of cosmetics I had emptied onto the counter after coming in through the back door. “From all those different stores?”

Despite my success the day before, Gary’s mom was somewhat amazed.

“You know why,” I whispered, closing in behind her to nudge the back of her knee with mine.

Her eyes darted toward the living room where Mr. Robinson was enjoying the evening news. She straightened her legs and I knelt behind her, poking in both knees, causing her legs to bend and her rump to press back, right into my waiting, tented groin. She would have had to be drugged or asleep not to feel my erection which had been growing all the way from the mall. I used her partial fall as an excuse to catch her, my hands pressing against the sides of her breasts. I kissed the side of her face.

“Allen, don’t!” she whispered, quickly turning around.

“One little kiss for my reward,” I whispered back, pulling her toward me and seeking her lips.

“Mr. Robinson is right there,” she protested.

“I don’t care,” I insisted, my lips landing on hers.

“Shhhhh, be quiet.”

I plied her lips with mine and then slipped my tongue into her mouth. Mrs. Robinson resisted briefly but I knotted a handful of hair behind her neck to prevent her from pulling away. After a few seconds, she relaxed but I waited until the end of the kiss before sliding my palm over the front of her left breast. Mrs. Robinson didn’t protest and, luckily, she had just turned around to survey the collection of cosmetics when Mr. Robinson entered the kitchen.

“What’s this, then? Another successful shopping foray?”

“Yes. Allen picked all of this up for me at the mall today, and everything is from a different store.” Mrs. Robinson didn’t point out that all the stores from the same section in the outer ring of the main level at the mall.

“Really? That’s very impressive. I told your mother it was just a temporary thing.”

Mrs. Robinson’s eyes shot daggers at her husband.

“I mean, this fear of going out, it was… uh, but you’ve made an amazing recovery, simply amazing.”

“Yes. I think I might be able to keep it up, with a little help.” I skirted around Mr. Robinson’s indiscretion of mentioning my mother. He knew my parents were dead, and Mrs. Robinson’s reaction indicated she was worried that I would find talk about my parents difficult to handle.

Mr. Robinson awkwardly tried to change the subject, “The change in scenery probably helps, I mean, getting out of the h… school.”

“Yes, simply amazing,” Mrs. Robinson broke in. “Allen has made tremendous progress, but we should try a few more times before we count our chickens.” She shot her husband a dirty look and dismissed him before he did further damage, “I think the news is back on.”

After he was gone, she placated me, “Don’t pay any attention to what he says, Allen. Sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks.”

I thought Mrs. Robinson was overly worried. My parents had gone so long ago I couldn’t remember much about them, not even what they looked like, which I knew was strange given the accident had occurred just a few years ago. Perhaps, Mrs. Robinson was right to be worried. Maybe there was something about the accident that I was repressing. Why else would I be unable to remember what my parents looked like? A feeling of discomfort washed over me but I put on a brave face for Mrs. Robinson.

“I didn’t spare him a single thought,” I smiled, looking down at Mrs. Robinson’s breasts which were heaving slightly from the anger she was feeling toward her husband.

She looked down at herself and smiled. “Please don’t tell me what you were thinking about just now.”

That night, reading on the couch with her husband sitting in his chair behind her and me opposite in my preferred observation post, it was very clear what I had been thinking about. Despite the caution I had overheard Mr. Robinson offer to Mrs. Robinson, she conducted an even more sensual display of her legs than usual. I think it was the way she used the top of one foot to rub the back of the other leg’s calf, again and again, always slowly, as if to purposely draw attention to her legs.

Mr. Robinson kept his eyes riveted on either the TV or his newspaper. I was no longer worried about him catching me watching his wife. He was obviously pleased with my new ability to roam about in public and I knew, from the overheard conversation, that he attributed my success to his wife’s efforts to entice me with just rewards such as her current exhibit. What he previously thought inappropriate seemed to me now allowed. He knew what was going on, if only in a limited way, and apparently the end justified the means. That would definitely change if he knew about the downstairs treats or, due to Mrs. Robinson’s own inadvertent suggestion, my growing willingness to demand more.

When Mr. Robinson went to use the bathroom during a commercial break, I walked over to stand beside Mrs. Robinson, looking down upon her lovely, bare thighs. She didn’t try to cover herself, just as she hadn’t when her husband stood behind her and could have easily looked over to witness her wanton display. Only, she knew he wouldn’t look and that I would do so intensely, but what she didn’t expect was the forthright, almost possessive manner in which I reached down and pushed her knees apart, exposing a pair of blue panties.

She didn’t look around to see where her husband was—the toilet hadn’t yet flushed—the fleeting anger was directed at me. I didn’t know yet that a woman usually doesn’t like to be hurried or pushed. Nonetheless, she made no attempt to close her legs but she looked away, disinterested. Another lesson: Mrs. Robinson was demonstrating that force diminishes value.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I couldn’t wait. I was thinking about tomorrow and my courage was waning.”

Mrs. Robinson’s expression softened.

“You still need my help, don’t you, Allen?”

“More than ever,” I confirmed, moving her knee in and out and observing the tantalizing movement it caused across the front of her panties. “Will you come tonight?”

“Do you need me to?”

“Yes,” I replied throatily, in the most desperately needy voice I could muster.

“Then, I’ll come.”

The toilet flushed.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

I had turned all the lights off. The room was lit only by the flickering light of the television when she entered my room and swayed toward my bed in her signature full length nightgown with a deeply cut bodice. I had the presence of mind to appreciate what a sexy woman she was as I enjoyed the formation of each leg within the gown and its subsequent disappearance as the other one started to appear with each new step.

She kept her eyes focused on mine, which is probably why she didn’t notice that I had swept the blankets to the side. She leaned down to give me a kiss.

“I can’t stay. Mr. Robinson was too excited to go to sleep.”

I didn’t argue. I simply raised my lips up to meet hers. As we kissed, I curled my hand around to the back of her head and when she sank lower, I put my arm around her shoulder to encourage her descent. Her knee pressed into the mattress.

“Maybe for just one long kiss,” she whispered.

I let her sink down until she was lying atop me, keeping her mouth engaged in a very long kiss.

“You’re very naughty to delay me,” she said, trailing her fingers across my forehead. “Mr. Robinson will wonder what’s keeping me.”

“Will he?” I asked, recapturing her mouth.

When our mouths parted, she said, “We really have to talk about setting some boundaries.”

Suddenly, her face filled with surprise.

“Allen,” she cried, twisting about on top of me. “What have you done with the blankets?”

“It was too hot. I left them off,” I answered, my hands encircling her waist to keep her from escaping.

“But we can’t lie together like this.”

“Like what?”

“Without blankets.”

“Why not? What difference does it make?”

“It’s not proper.”

“Why? We’re both dressed.” I didn’t mention that I was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts. I tried to kiss her but she pulled away.

“I don’t know. I think it’s too much.”

“It’s fine,” I said, stretching up and raining several small kisses on her lips.

She was reluctant but many kisses turned into another long one. It was an amazing kiss, the warmest, most fluid one we’d ever had, perhaps stoked by the proximity of our genitals separated by two thin barriers of clothing, her heat and softness contrasting with my urgent hardness. I could taste the reluctant desire seething inside her.

When we finished, I was surprised by her seeming acceptance of our new situation. She offered no indication that she wanted to leave except for a verbal one which I ignored.

“Mr. Robinson will be wondering where I am. I really should go.”

I moved my hands up and down her back, stretching up to brush her lips with mine and basking in the puffy softness pressing against me. I rolled her a bit from side to side and was delighted that she allowed me to exacerbate the pressure between us that delivered a tingling glow that spread wonderfully throughout my groin.

“I really should go,” she whispered.

I knew she didn’t want to.

“He’s probably fallen asleep.”

“Do you think so?”

“Was he reading?”

I pushed my hands down to the small of her back and beyond, slightly up the rise to her buttocks, stunned that there was no objection. Maybe setting boundaries wasn’t such a bad idea so I could relish the thrill of breaking them.


“You said he always falls asleep right away when he reads in bed.”

“He does,” she confirmed.

“So, you can stay a little longer.”

“Maybe,” she chuckled, this time playfully brushing her lips across mine, amused by my logic but accepting it just the same.

I pushed my hands higher up the forbidden slope.

“What are you doing back there, Mister?”

“Checking out my prize,” I said, pushing my hands up to the crest and letting them lie still, cupping the crest of her buttocks.

“Your prize?”

“Yes. Those blue panties.”

“You’ll have to go somewhere special if you want me to give them to you tomorrow,” she teased, amazingly not making me remove my hands which were already beginning to gently squeeze.

“Tonight,” I corrected her.


“Tonight,” I repeated. “I want to hold them tonight so I’ll be ready for the challenge tomorrow.”

It made sense but she wasn’t succumbing to my logic this time.

“I can’t give them to you tonight. I’m wearing them.”

“You’re wearing a nightgown. Just slip them off.”

“I can’t go to bed without my panties. My husband will see.”

“Mr. Robinson is asleep,” I said, deliberately trying to distance him.

“He might not be.”

“He won’t notice.”

“No, he probably won’t,” she admitted.

The tone in her voice shot a thrill through my chest that ended lower, causing a shiver in my dick. It spoke bucketloads about Mrs. Robinson’s sex life.

“I would notice.”

“Would you?” she smiled, inquisitively.

“I’ve noticed every day since I came here.”

“Yes, I guess you have,” Mrs. Robinson giggled.

I grabbed her lips with mine and kissed her hard, pulling my left hand up to hold her face against mine but freely exploring her ass with my right. It was fantastic watershed moment in our relationship, one that wasn’t mentioned in the brief interlude between that kiss and the next. At the end of that one, we were both panting and there was no breath left for words, except, that is, when she felt me using both hands to draw her nightgown up, bunching it on her bottom.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to take your panties off.”

“I didn’t say you could.”

I didn’t answer but kept pulling the nightgown up.

“Not now. I’ll take them off when I leave.”

“No, now,” I insisted, offering no reason.

“Allen, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Nothing more was said. Silently, I tugged the long nightgown until it was bunched up on her bum, spilling over onto the slope to her narrow waist. I loved the way her butt flared into its full expression.

We lay still, as if we were both savoring the moment. Then, Mrs. Robinson started to push her panties down.

“Let me do it.”

She relented, allowing me to struggle with the panties which were actually very easy to remove but I made a meal of it, rubbing my hands all over her cheeks and accidentally letting my fingers stray into crevices in which they had no business. I managed to get them to her knees and then used my foot to push them down to her ankles, an action which me to visit a lot of inexcusable motion upon her pussy through the thin nightgown. I pushed the panties off her feet and kicked. They landed on Mrs. Robinson’s back where I pulled them up for inspection and sniffed them.

“Allen, that’s gross.”

“Sorry,” I laughed. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well, don’t do it again. At least, not in front of me.”

“I won’t if you let me do it to the real thing.”


“Sorry. Kiss better?”

“Okay, but this is the last one. I really have to go.”

It was a passionate kiss. Mrs. Robinson let me run my hand all over her bare ass which I hadn’t recovered with the nightgown. The curvature of those two globes was incredibly exciting. She even let me grasp a cheek in each hand and pull them apart a few times. Judging by the muted snort through her nostrils each time I did that, I surmised that it must feel good and was probably stretching and relaxing her pussy lips. Upon that realization, I spread her cheeks more frequently. As the kiss became more active, Mrs. Robinson shoved herself upon me of her own accord without the need for me to pull her down, which I still did since I was her working her ass cheeks anyway. Maybe she was giving second thought to my suggestion of doing the real thing.

A dampness flooded my shorts and, for a second, I thought I had come but then realized I hadn’t. Mrs. Robinson broke the kiss and nestled her sweaty cheek tightly against mine, her chin digging into the hollow of my neck as she panted heavily beside my head, hands clutching my shoulders. She had come. I breached my own dam within seconds. Less than a minute after that, Mrs. Robinson stood up. There was a large damp spot on the front of her nightgown in a very incriminating spot, likely a mixture of our mutual excitement.

“Oh, dear,” she said, then pulled the long nightgown over her head. Completely nude, she laughed and said, “Mr. Robinson better be asleep.” She draped the nightgown over her arm and slowly walked away, leaving the beautiful ass my hands had recently become so familiar with to tease my following eyes in the dim, flickering light.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next day, Mrs. Robinson sent me on a more adventurous mission to the ticket center in the center of the lower floor in the mall. I tried, I really did, but when the center was in sight, I suddenly felt like I was being smothered, and ran outside and didn’t stop until I was home.

“That was quick,” Mrs. Robinson called from the kitchen when she heard me burst in.

“I forgot something, haven’t done it yet,” I yelled as I bolted downstairs.

Flinging myself on onto the bed, I almost burst into tears. Though I didn’t, I’m sure I looked like I had. A big baby who can’t even buy tickets to a baseball game. I slugged the mattress hard, half a dozen times. Fuck!

I threw myself onto my back, lifting a hand and resting its back on my forehead. I breathed deeply, trying to force the frustration out of my body and the feeling of shame by digging my knuckles into my eyes. What would she think of me now? How could I face her?

There was a light knock on my door, though it wasn’t closed. I twisted onto my side, back to the door, so I didn’t have to face her.

“Are you okay, Allen?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be up in a minute.” Though I tried, I wasn’t able to keep the despair out of my voice.

“There’s no need to go, Allen. Mr. Robinson can pick the tickets up on his way home from work.”

I turned onto my back. Even without looking directly at her, I was aware of her body.

“Then it won’t be a surprise,” I lamented.

“He’ll still be thrilled to go to a game with you.”

“How can I go to a game if I can’t even get the tickets? No. I’m going back. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay, Allen. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

Ten minutes later I went upstairs, feeling sheepish but refortified. I was determined to prove to Mrs. Robinson, and Mr. Robinson too for that matter, that I wasn’t a basket case. I was a man, not a scarety-cat little kid, but as I topped the first set of stairs near the entranceway my resolve began to fade. I turned away and climbed the short set of stairs to the main level. Mrs. Robinson came into view in pieces, first her head, then her body, and finally her legs. She was facing away from me, puttering with something on the kitchen counter. I knew she wasn’t really doing anything, that she was really just waiting to see me off. I hadn’t turned away from the door in fear, I told myself, it just wouldn’t be right to leave without assuring her that I could do this small thing for her.

Since leaving my room, Mrs. Robinson had changed her dress. It looked like a simple, plain brown shift from the back but when she turned around and smiled at me, it was anything but. The neckline plunged deep, almost to her belly button, bracketing the tanned inner swells of her breasts.

“Are you off?” she asked, her smile recognizing that she had swept my breath away.

“Yes. I just came up to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? We’ll never say goodbye, Allen.”

I was almost to her when she raised her arms for a hug. I stepped into her arms, slipping mine around her waist, and looked into her warm, welcoming eyes. They were all the inspiration I needed but I lowered my gaze to take in the unblemished, sculptured skin revealed by her sexy dress.

“Do you like my new dress?”

“Yes. It’s beautiful.”

“Dresses are nice, Allen. Women are beautiful.”

“Then, you’re beautiful.”

“I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

“You don’t have to.”

I stepped back, pulling her waist with me, which pushed her breast up, almost popping them out of the dress.

“That’s a very dangerous dress,” I remarked.

“Then it’s suitable attire to bid my hero farewell on a dangerous mission.”

“Yes, it’s perfect for making a man know what he’s fighting for,” I laughed, making a mountain out of the molehill of a task facing me. Suddenly, the enormity of that challenge, for me, at least, ripped the gaiety from my chest, leaving it hollow. I gasped for air.

“Allen, what’s the matter?”

I sank to my knees and buried my face in her dress, my arms falling from her waist and wrapping around her thighs. Mrs. Robinson’s fingers slid through my hair.

“Shhhhhhh,” she comforted.

I shook my head, shaking off her hands.

“Don’t,” I cried. I was surprised by the look of helplessness in her face. Why should she feel that way? I was the one with the handicap. I realized with a start that when Mrs. Robinson helped me she helped herself, too. To be unable to help someone close to you must be unbearable, and her reaction showed that she cared for me deeply. I resolved to help her. I pushed up on her dress.

“Allen, Mr. Robinson will be home any minute.”

“I need see why I’m going,” I said, pushing the dress higher, overcoming the feeble attempt of her hands to block my progress.

“It’s too late, today. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“No,” I firmly rejected the offer of escape. I knew I couldn’t go to sleep tonight with this failure hanging over our heads. “You must remind me,” I insisted, pushing so hard Mrs. Robinson’s dress traveled high enough for her panties to peek through. “Hold it up,” I commanded, bunching the dress into her hands, but it was also a desperate plea, and she knew it.

I stared at her panties, sitting like a shallow boomerang that dipped from its wings near Mrs. Robinson’s hips to meet in the middle, a slightly thicker section covering the magic center of life that I had only glimpsed until now. I remembered it’s warmth as it pressed down upon me the night before and the power it held to bring forth my seed.



As if resigned, Mrs. Robinson settled back against the counter, lifting the dress even higher. I inhaled gently so she wouldn’t hear and rebuke me for being gross. I wanted to sense her in every way, sight, smell…touch. I leaned forward.

“Allen!” Mrs. Robinson’s cried, alarmed.

Too late. I fell into the sexy, chocolate brown panties, nose first, my hands tightening behind her thighs to counteract the anticipated thrust to dislodge me. It came, mashing her pussy into my face.


I moved my nose from side to side. “Mmmmmmm.”

Her hands clutched my head, my hair, pulling, trying to push my face away, but her effort was futile. My arms tightened and I opened my mouth to plant a puffy-lipped kiss squarely on the front of her panties.

“Allen,” she cried, her voice weaker.

I opened my mouth wide and tried to cover her mound with my mouth but only succeeded in skidding my lips across the silky panties. Mrs. Robinson expelled a loud sigh. I closed my mouth a little and thrust my tongue out to execute a well-placed, long lap up the front of the panties. Keeping my tongue pressed against the panties, I shoved it down and returned but this time with the tip crooked stiffly inward, finding and following the intriguing groove I had first witnessed an eon ago.

“Oh, Allen,” Mrs. Robinson sighed.

I let the dress go but pushed my hands up underneath, finding and molding her ass, pulling it forward to increase the pressure of her pussy on my tongue.


I wiggled my head, producing a burst of short sighs, then licked like I was eating that ice cream cone the first day. Her fingertips curled in and clutched my scalp hard. I licked faster, slipping my tongue underneath where the panties widened and digging it upwards, finding and following a wider trench which opened as the panties soaked into her skin.

“Oh, God. Allen, oh Allen.”

I released my tight grip on her ass, found the waist of the panties, and started dragging them down. I expected a protest but none came, not until the legs were lower than my mouth and the wet material began separating stickily from the charms it covered.

“No. Allen, oh no.”

She tried to close her legs but my knees prevented her.

“Yes,” I mumbled into her muff.

The panties snapped downward and my mouth was upon her bare, wet pussy, my tongue thrusting easily through her slick groove, then finding and sinking into her sacred hole. Her fingers almost crushed my skull but they were pulling inward rather than trying to push me away. I stiffened my tongue and shoved it deep into the hole, into her cunt, so hard I could feel my head lifting her up onto her toes. I retreated, retrieving my tongue, and lapped her pussy like the happiest Labrador in the world, forcing a series of uncontrolled ‘uhs’ and ‘ohs’ from Mrs. Robinson’s sexy mouth.

I don’t know why it took me so long to think of it but when I finally slipped my longest finger into her hole and began plunging it in an out in a regular rhythm, the tenor or Mrs. Robinson’s voice began a steady rise, rising higher and higher in concert with more and more frantic gasps for air. When I thought she was as close as she could get, I yanked my finger out and replaced it with my tongue, shoving my mouth up hard in an effort to get it as deep as possible and shook my head, guessing that would feel good but not really knowing whether it would or not.

Mrs. Robinson liked it.

“Ohhhhh, ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh,” she gasped louder than before as her thighs scissored on my around my head and her hands yanked it deeper into her pussy.

My face was suddenly awash and her sighs subsided as the muscles in her legs relaxed enough that they didn’t feel like they were about to break. She sank down until her toes douched the floor for the first time in minutes, followed by her heels, but she was unable to hold her weight and I was forced to hold her up until her thighs stopped quivering.

I pushed the panties, which were hung up around her ankles, off her feet and stood up. The dress fell into place and if you had just walked into the kitchen, you might have thought Mrs. Robinson had simply been on a vigorous run. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing still irregular but her eyes shone. There was none of the recrimination or anger that I had expected. I made a production of pushing her panties into my pocket.

“These will get me through,” I said, turning away.

“Allen, wait!”

I turned back. Mrs. Robinson grabbed a tea towel and held it up to my face. Delicately, she dabbed at my chin and rubbed down my cheeks.

“There. Get a ticket for me. I want to come too.”

“Again?” I laughed, immediately regretting my crude joke, but she laughed.

“Away with you. I don’t know why men always get so cocky afterwards.”

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

I could hardly keep still during dinner. Who would have thought it would be so easy. Earlier this same afternoon, I couldn’t even get there and yet, just over an hour later, I walked right up to the man and ordered three tickets for the baseball game on Saturday. After that, I had the balls to saunter over to a refreshment booth and order an Orange Julius, then sat on one of the mall benches and casually sipped at it until it was gone, reliving my successful penetration of the mall and wondering why in the world it had seemed so difficult. In the retelling, as I casually sauntered into the mall, I wasn’t walking stiffly and clutching the panties in my pocket, like I was even now. But hey, history is always rewritten to look grander than it really was.

The tickets were burning a hole in my pocket. Mr. Robinson knew something was up. How could he not? My excitement was particularly well hidden. It was Mrs. Robinson who couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Allen went on another adventure to the mall today.”

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Robinson responded, looking from her to me, awaiting further explanation.

I remained silent.

“Yes. He went right down to the bottom floor, deep into the bowels of the mall.”

“Ahhh. What was so important that you had to venture so far, Allen?”

“Show him,” Mrs. Robinson interjected excitedly.

I tugged the tickets out of my pocket. Thankfully they weren’t in the same one as the panties. “These,” I stated casually, tossing them onto the table in front of Mr. Robinson’s plate.

He looked at them, twisting his head to line up so he could read. Then he simply stared.

“Baseball? You bought…baseball tickets.”

Mr. Robinson’s face lit up.

“Are you sure, Allen?” He looked at his wife. “That’s wonderful, but is he ready?”

“He’s right here.”

Mr. Robinson looked at me.

“Are you sure you’re up to it, Allen?”

“Yes, of course. Mrs. Robinson says I am, so I must be.”

“Well… that’s marvelous, that’s…awesome! We’ll go to a game!”

Mr. Robinson stood up and his fork clattered onto his plate and bounced onto the table. He leaned forward, grasped my right hand and Mrs. Robinson’s left, and pulled us both up to our feet.

“We’re going to the game. Here’s to the game!” he shouted.

“To the game,” we yelled, then sat down at the same time, laughing.

There was no leg show that evening but I didn’t care. In a way, I felt it would ruin the new spirit in the house by leaving Mr. Robinson out. We all watched a movie together and talked about it during the commercials. It was a great evening and I felt like a real part of a wonderful family. Gary was a lucky guy. I wondered what it would be like to be in a real family where a son and his parents could get along so well. I wished Mr. Robinson knew about what had transpired between me and Mrs. Robinson, and was okay with it. I imagined Gary sitting in my place and being the one with the special relationship with his mother. Would his father condone it? Could they live together sharing this beautiful woman? Could they live with me in that knowledge?

That night, while I waited hopefully for Mrs. Robinson’s nightly visit, I imagined myself with my parents. What if they hadn’t been killed? Could we live like that? Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine it. The problem was disturbing. I couldn’t visualize either of my parents. Their forms were vague, even when I pictured myself doing to my mother what I’d done to Mrs. Robinson that afternoon, I couldn’t see her face or hear her voice clearly. What was wrong with me? They hadn’t died that long ago. Was I still so traumatized that I couldn’t even see them? Had I been in the crash?

I shook my head, tossing the thoughts of my parents out of my mind. Instantly, it was filled with a stark image I had seen the first time I had entered the mall in the afternoon but only now remembered. It was a woman, sitting on a bench at the far end of the side hallway that led to the public washrooms. She was breast-feeding her child but the scene was wrong. A baby rested in a carriage beside her. The mother seemed embarrassed and she looked away as soon as she caught sight of me approaching. Her face was hidden but she couldn’t hide the fact that the child she was breast-feeding was at least four years old, if not more. She was ashamed, I could see that, but why did it disturb me so much?

She was coming, walking sexily toward me though I knew she wasn’t trying to be sexy. The disturbing mall scene melted away.

“Hello, Allen,” she said. She put her knee on the bed but didn’t lie down on top of me as she now usually did. “Mr. Robinson is very pleased. I told him I was going downstairs to make some tea and he asked me to thank you again if you were still awake.”

“That’s very kind of him,” I said.

“Yes, it is but, more importantly, I think he’s too excited to go to sleep.”

“You mean, you can’t stay long?”

“That’s right, but you deserve a reward for your bravery today.”

Mrs. Robinson put her knees on the bed, one on each side of me, but kept herself lifted up on outstretched arms. Her breasts hung down and pressed so hard against the flimsy material of her nightgown that her nipples were clearly evident. It made me think of the woman in the mall breast-feeding her four year old son. Before I could think, my mouth went into action.

“I saw a woman in the mall breast-feeding her child today” I blurted out.

“Oh,” Mrs. Robinson seemed amused. “What made you think of that, Allen?”

She shifted her weight from one arm to the other, making her breasts sway from side to side.

“It wasn’t her baby,” I said.

“Of course it was. I’m sure she wasn’t breast-feeding someone else’s baby.”

“No. I mean she had a baby in a carriage but she was breast-feeding an older child, her son.”

Mrs. Robinson looked startled, and suddenly uncomfortable.

“How old?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Four, maybe older.”

“Did that bother you?”

“I guess so.”

“Why? Did your mother breast-feed you when you were older?”

I hadn’t thought of that. A weird feeling overcame me but no memories popped into my head.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Do you think it was wrong of the woman to comfort her son?”

“I don’t know. I guess, maybe.”

“It’s never wrong for a mother to comfort her son, Allen.” Mrs. Robinson’s voice was firm, filled with conviction.

“I guess not.”

Mrs. Robinson lifted her left hand, holding herself up with only her right. Deftly, she slipped a finger under the bodice of her nightgown and pushed it aside, freeing her left breast which immediately dangled lower, bouncing with the sexiest motion I had ever witnessed.

“Here, Allen. Try to imagine how comforting it might be for her son.”

On that note, Mrs. Robinson lowered herself until her nipple nudged my lips. Though dry, they opened readily and let her stiff nipple poke into my mouth. The feelings that hard nipple stirred within me was incredible. I lifted my head from the bed, straining to get as much of Mrs. Robinson’s tit into my mouth as I could as she released a low, throaty, I-told-you-so chuckle. Her hand curled under my neck to hold my head tight to her breast and she arched her back to feed me more of her tit. My hand slipped inside her nightgown and closed over her other breast.

“Do you like it?” she hissed.

I nodded and mumbled enthusiastically around her tit.

“Can you remember, Allen, what it was like to suck your mother’s tits?”

I shook my head full of tit. The throaty laughed rolled forth again.

“I bet you loved it. I bet you sucked your mom’s tits as long as you could, long after you were a baby.”

I shook my head but her words somehow ringed true. Had my mother breast-fed me after I was a baby? Had I harassed her for a tit whenever I was anxious? I’m sure the woman’s little boy pressured her for a tit because he saw her feeding the baby but I didn’t have a younger brother or sister like that woman, so why would I do that? Why would my mother let me? Already, in my mind, I was accepting it as true. Somehow, I knew I had, but how did Mrs. Robinson know. She and my mother weren’t close friends but they must have know each other. Had they confided? Had Mrs. Robinson let Gary breast-feed far longer that the norm, like my mother? The thought of it made me so fucking horny.

I pulled away. “I love sucking your tits, Mommy,” I cried, then buried my face in them.

Mrs. Robinson grasped my head in both hands and rubbed her tits across my face, feeding one nipple into my mouth and then the other. My hands slipped around her waist and then up onto her ass. Clutching my hands, I bunched her nightgown higher and higher. I wanted another pair of panties.

“Oh, Mommy,” I cried, whenever my mouth cleared for a breath.

Mrs. Robinson went wild whenever I said it, grinding her pussy onto my cock. We were both getting carried away. I hoped she wasn’t aware of it as I was because I didn’t want it to stop. The nightgown was up. I pulled it over her bum and slid my hands over her almost naked cheeks. Almost? They were completely naked. I couldn’t feel any panties!

I pushed my hands together until my fingers met in the crack of Mrs. Robinson’s ass. I kept one there while I explored downward, the heel of my fingertips sliding over her little asshole and beyond, finding and slipping through a very hot and wet pussy. Plunging a finger into her cunt from behind, I lowered my other hand, index finger seeking, finding, then probing into the treasure the other had passed over. I nudged into it, listened to Mrs. Robinson’s grunting appreciation, then shoved a second finger into her cunt.

My hips were churning underneath her and only her flexing knees kept Mrs. Robinson positioned atop my throbbing cock. The thought of my cock made me aware of its desperate need. I withdrew my fingers from Mrs. Robinson’s cunt and slipped my hand underneath her left hip. On the next upward withdrawal of her pelvis, I deftly slipped in and, grabbing my shorts, yanked them down, freeing my frantic cock.

“Oh, God, Allen. No,” Mrs. Robinson cried upon feeling my bare cock on her tummy.

Still, she didn’t try to get off and on the next upward withdrawal of her hips, I angled my cock up. Mrs. Robinson landed above it and it skidded along her pussy lips. Immediately, she clamped her legs around it. I returned my hand, reaching over the back of her thighs to find and explore her soaking wet lips. Mrs. Robinson continued grinding her mound on my pelvis, her thighs squeezing my cock. Obviously, she was okay with our bare genitals rubbing together. We would rub ourselves until we both came.

But I wanted more than that. I kept meeting Mrs. Robinson’s downward grinds with upward, twisting thrusts of my own, my sex sounds matching hers with increasing intensity and abandonment, but I didn’t try to get inside her and I think that’s why she let her guard down. It was only later, when it felt like she was starting to get there, reaching the place of not return, that I quickly grasped my cock between her legs and shoved forward, discovering her entrance with a blind man’s luck.

Oh, heaven of heavens. What a feeling. So exquisite, so overwhelming. So new and yet so familiar. Mrs. Robinson protested with a loud groan but, if anything, she welcomed me inside her with such a vigorous clutch I don’t think I could have pulled out if I wanted to.

“Nooooo,” she wailed, but when I started in for my second thrust her muscles grabbed me and lifted my cock, so hard my hips rose off the bed.

“Noooooo,” she cried, following me down, her hips flexing quickly as she threw half a dozen mini thrusts at my next invasion and a half dozen more on the way down.

“Fuck me, oh Jesus, fuck me,” she whimpered as I countered with my own rapid series of hard upward thrusts, our bodies slapping together.

I circled her waist to hold her while I fucked hard and fast, delighting in the way I threw her body all around. She was gone, in her own world, swinging wildly above me like a rag doll. I was losing control. Who was I kidding? I had already lost control, heaving my body up mightily, as if I was trying to fuck right through her. I felt as if I had been reborn, that I had lived before and fucked this same woman, my favorite woman in the world, of all my former lives. This one, this woman, was the best!

I grabbed her hair and tugged as gently as I could, tilting her head back. She moaned in abandonment, looking for all the world like a wild animal. I loved it. She loved it. We came.

We must have laid there for ten minutes without saying a word. The first five minutes, neither of us could have spared the breath to speak but the last five must have been out of reverence for what had just happened. I had no regrets and I sensed she had none either. Maybe, we just didn’t want to part, didn’t want to end our first time. She felt so fucking wonderful, even now, sweating on top of me, her hair a mess in my face, the odor of our sex wafting over us.

“Whew,” I finally spoke.

“Whew,” she agreed.

“That was incredible,” I gasped.

“You shouldn’t call me Mommy.”

“I called you Mommy?”

“Yes, you shouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s just that it makes me go wild.”

“Oh. I didn’t notice.”

Mrs. Robinson laughed loudly. “Uh huh.”

“Can I call you Mommy again?”

“At your peril, but I prefer Mom.”

“I like living dangerously.”

“I know. It makes you hot to call me that doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I don’t know why. Mom,” I added.

“Forget it,” Mrs. Robinson said. “There’s no repeats, not tonight, anyway.”

“Mom,” I cried plaintively.

“Whining won’t do it,” she said.

“Mom,” I said more forcefully.

“Don’t wear it out.”

I took her advice and remained mum.

Mrs. Robinson got up and tugged the nightgown down her legs, then pulled the lapels over her breasts, making sure each was properly covered.

“I know why you like calling me Mom,” she said, then quickly turned and walked rapidly away.

“Why?” I called, but she didn’t answer. She was gone.

Why had she said that? Why had she known that my mother had breast-fed me past babyhood? I mean, she could have just seen my mother doing it, but I had the feeling she knew more than that. If my mother confided in each her, hat implied Mrs. Robinson must have breast-fed Gary too.

So what it mean when she said she knew why I liked calling her Mom? Did Mrs. Robinson know something else about my mother and me? Is that why it made her go wild when I called her Mom?

My God, had she had sex with her own son? No, no, that couldn’t be. Or could it? No, she couldn’t have actually done it with Gary, but maybe she fantasized about it. Maybe that was why he seemed unhappy about my presence at first, thinking her fetish, if he knew about it, could actually lead into something with someone other than their son. But then he seemed so happy about me getting better, and anyway, I wasn’t a very good-looking guy. I was pretty geeky-looking. Surely, I wasn’t a real threat?

I fell asleep wondering about many things and had some very weird dreams.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

It was game day. I had slept in. At first, I thought about rushing upstairs to see if calling Mrs. Robinson ‘mom’ would instigate another session like last night but then realized it was Saturday and we wouldn’t be alone. I forgot all about golf.

Lazing around, I twiddled with my dick, thinking about Mrs. Robinson and, more hazily, possible liaisons with my unremembered mother, until I had to get up to take a leak. While I was pissing, I remembered that Mr. Robinson liked to golf on Saturdays. I yanked on some shorts and half ran upstairs.

Mrs. Robinson’s wasn’t there, an absence that was distinctly disappointing. I rubbed my cock and opened the fridge. I was hungry. I was almost finished my second bowl of cereal when the door opened.

“Hello, I’m home.”

She breezed into the kitchen, carrying a bunch of bags and deposited them on the table, then turned toward the kitchen counter where I was sitting with a spoonful of cereal, dripping milk back into the bowl, halfway to my mouth.

“Ta da,” she exclaimed. “Do you like it?” she asked, twirling around.

I looked her up and down. You betcha I did, but I guess she meant the new sporty blouse and skirt she was wearing.

“Yeah, it looks great…Mom.”

“Allen, don’t start.”

“I was just kidding. Your new outfit looks really good on you, but what wouldn’t.”

“Oh, you flatterer. Wouldn’t you rather have pancakes? I was hoping to get home earlier.”

“Nope. Cereal’s okay.”

“Are you sure. It will only take a minute.”

Why was I saying no when she wanted to do something for me?

“Okay, that would be great.”

Mrs. Robinson bustled around the kitchen, getting pancake mix, milk and eggs, then a frying pan and a bowl. I watched as she mixed it up, enjoying her sporty outfit with its short, pleated skirt and tight t-shirt. She put the mix onto the counter to let it sit for a while.

“I’m kind of hungry myself,” she said, lifting herself up onto a stool beside me.

I looked down at her almost completely bare legs.

“Are you ready for the game, Allen?”

“I think so,” I replied, not bothering to look up even though I knew it was rude. My morning hardon hadn’t quite worn off.

“There will be lots of people. It can be a little overwhelming but I’ll be there, and Mr. Robinson too,” she assured me.

She patted me on the leg and I patted hers in response.

“You have to wait until after the game, sweetie.”

“Even if I call you Mom?” I half-joked.

“Yes, even then,” she answered, but I noted a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay, Mom. Are the pancakes ready to cook yet?”

“Let’s see.” Mrs. Robinson slid off her stool and went to check the bowl. “I don’t mind you calling me that, Allen, but not when Mr. Robinson is around.”

“Okay,” I agreed, slipping off my own stool and standing behind her while she looked at the bowl of pancake mix, which was starting to blister.

“It looks like it’s a little early yet,” Mrs. Robinson said.

I put my hands on her hips and nuzzled her the nape of her neck.

“That’s okay, I’m not in a hurry,” I said, my right hand sliding down over her buttock.

“Allen, you must wait.”

She pulled away but I followed her into the counter.

Twisting away, she said, “I think we can eat this now.”

I sat on the stool again and acted like a good boy while Mrs. Robinson cooked the pancakes. I made no further suggestions but managed to sprinkle a few Mom’s into our conversation while we ate. When we finished, I followed her to the sink to put my dishes on top of hers. I pressed against her.

“Allen, we really have to wait. Mr. Robinson will be home from golf soon.”

“I know,” I whispered close to her ear, my hands encircling her waist and rubbing along the swell of her breasts, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to the game like this.”

“Like what,” Mrs. Robinson leaned forward to get away from me which only pushed her bum into me.

“Like this,” I hissed, bulging my cock firmly into her ass. “I think Mr. Robinson will be angry if he sees me like this and I can’t control it. “You’ve got to help me.”

“How?” Mrs. Robinson’s head bounced as I rubbed hard against her ass. “There isn’t time to…do it.”

“Could you, you know, do like I did to you before I went to get the tickets?”

Mrs. Robinson froze, then pushed herself up straight. I loosened my arms to let her turn around. She was blushing.

“You mean, you want me to…suck you?”

Those words spilling from her mouth almost made me come in my pants.

“Yeah,” I said, already pushing my shorts down.

“But Allen, I can’t…”

“I need something. You’re got to do something before Mr. Robinson gets home.”

I shoved my shorts down far enough that my cock sprung forth, fully armed.

Mrs. Robinson looked at it and the look in her face made me proud. I may be a geek, but I was a well-armed geek.

“Please, Mom,” I whispered, putting my hands on her shoulders and pressing gently down.

Mrs. Robinson was reluctant but I could see growing acceptance forming on her face.

“Please, Mom. I really need it.”

She bent over and I stepped back, my hands slipping up from her shoulders to gently cup her face, guiding her down. Oh, God. Her lips skidded over my helmet, her tongue tickled underneath my glans, licked, and then her mouth enveloped my head slid down my shaft.

“Oh, Mom. Oh God. Mom,” I cried.

She was pulling up already, then sinking down, pushing farther. Fuck, it was so fine, so very, very fine. Up again, her tongue swirling around my tip, her lips squeezing, then sliding down, gripping. Her fingers appeared out of nowhere, one circling my root with forefinger and thumb while the other started tickling my balls.

“Suck it, Mom, suck it,” I groaned.

She sank to her knees but her head didn’t miss a beat as it bobbed up and down. I lifted her hair and smoothed it back over her head so I could try to see her face. Mrs. Robinson looked up at me and smiled, holding my eyes for a few bobs before returning to her task. I wasn’t going to last long, maybe a dozen or so strokes, if that.

Mr. Robinson’s car squealed into the driveway.

“Shit!” Mrs. Robinson cried, yanking her head off my cock.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” I yelled. “He always puts his clubs away in the garage. You can finish,” I cried, desperately trying to pull her mouth back onto me.

“Please, Mom,” I pleaded.

Mrs. Robinson let me pull her mouth back onto my cock. She closed her lips firmly around it and started bobbing again but I was now frantic to finish. I grasped her head tighter bent my knees, pulling her lower before thrusting in and out of her mouth. She loosened her lips and opened her mouth wide, keeping her head still, instinctively knowing that I was almost there and it was better to simply let me fuck her face. The sound of my cock wetly sliding in and out of her mouth sent me over the top. I exploded. She gagged and swallowed. I burst again, another gag and swallow, then I held in deep, squirting the rest of my spunk into Mrs. Robinson’s throat, trying to empty myself before her husband came in the door.

Please, oh please, don’t forget to put your clubs away.

I heard the clubs clatter as the bag was pulled out of the car. The trunk slammed and the clubs rattled as Mr. Robinson carried them into the garage. I had time. I kept hold of Mrs. Robinson’s head with one hand as I slowly fucked away the remnants of my orgasm, holding her hair back with the other so I could look at her gorgeous face with my cock sliding in and out of her mouth. She hadn’t spilled a drop.

I stumbled sideways as I tried to pull my shorts up and barely stayed upright until I hit the wall with a bang. Mrs. Robinson, despite knowing her husband’s arrival was imminent, burst out laughing. I didn’t find my predicament so funny and ran down the stairs just as the front door opened. I stopped at the bottom to listen, in case I needed to run farther away.

“Ready for the game?” Mr. Robinson yelled.

“We don’t have to leave for an hour,” Mrs. Robinson complained.

“I know, I know, but the traffic might be heavy. Where’s Allen?”

“I don’t know. He must be downstairs. No, you go up and get a shower and I’ll find him.”

I heard a loud kiss as Mr. Robinson kissed his wife. I hoped I was right and she hadn’t spilled any of my spunk. I couldn’t imagine a woman kissing her husband and not smelling the scent of another woman on his lips but I guess us guys aren’t so clever.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The game was fantastic. We drank cheap, stale beer and ate crappy hot dogs but it was up there with the best meals I had ever cooked. I made a point to whip up a special meal for my new ‘parents’. Mr. Robinson was ecstatic and drank too much beer. He even finished mine when I admitted I couldn’t finish it. We drove home in a merry mood; our team had won. Mr. Robinson rode in the back, singing some old songs from his college days. Mrs. Robinson looked in the mirror whenever he fell silent and smiled. The first few times she looked, he burst into song anew, but as we neared home, the silence was more permanent.

I stretched out my hand toward Mrs. Robinson and she took it. When we pulled into the driveway, I turned to wake Mr. Robinson but found him sitting up, looking between us straight out the front window. I had no idea how long he’s been awake and was worried because Mrs. Robinson still held my hand. She only let go to put the gearshift in Park.

We got out and walked to the door. Mr. Robinson slapped me on the back.

“Thanks for the game, son.”

“Thank you and Mrs. Robinson for giving me the courage to get the tickets, and paying for them,” I replied.

Mrs. Robinson opened the door, stepped inside the house, and waited for us to come in. Mr. Robinson walked past the closets in the entranceway with his shoes still on and went up the stairs to the main floor.

“I think I’ll head straight for bed,” he said, “but don’t let me stop you two from celebrating.

Mrs. Robinson and I watched him walk unsteadily up the stairs. I peeled my jacket off and she kicked off her shoes one at a time. Mrs. Robinson turned to look at me as soon as her husband disappeared. She removed her cardigan sweater and I admired the way her breasts pushed out as each arm pulled out of the sweater. I took a deep breath and brushed my eyes over her entire body, lingering on her legs and that sexy, short pleated skirt.

“Thank you, Allen. He had a great time, better than he’s had for years.”

“You’re welcome. I did too.”

“Are you hungry?”


I looked upstairs. The air was heavy with unfulfilled expectation. Mrs. Robinson followed my gaze.

“I bet he’s asleep already.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do, Mom.”

“The light is still on.”

“He’s gone,” I said.

“I hope so, Mrs. Robinson said.

She turned her head away from the stairs and walked into the living room but stopped beside the small couch to the right that I usually sat in. She got onto it with her knees, facing the back, and turned to look at me.

“Don’t you want me?” she asked.

I was there in two steps, kneeling behind her. She wouldn’t let me nudge her knees apart so I straddled hers. I wasn’t capable of finesse and both of us knew it. I shoved my shorts down for the second time that day and grabbed my cock with my right hand. My left hand flipped the skirt up onto Mrs. Robinson’s back and then skidded her panties onto her left cheek. The tip of my cock was already bumping behind her, searching for her entrance. I had been aware of her sitting beside me all night and I was more than ready, too ready.

“Oh Allen, so much foreplay,” she chuckled but she arched her back and pushed her bum back to help her pussy find my cock.

I slid my hands inside her t-shirt and grasped her tits just as her pussy began squeezing down my shaft. With her knees together like this, she was tight. I got all the way in, slid out part way and pushed back in twice more, then started stroking steadily in and out.

“Oh, you naughty boy, fucking your mommy when Daddy’s sleeping upstairs,” she cooed.

It sounded childish but it still made me even hornier than I already was. I grabbed her by the shoulders and started heaving into her with gusto.

“Yeah,” I cried. “You haven’t seen nothing yet. Take this,” I grunted, “and this,” I gasped, lunging hard.

Mrs. Robinson was shoved into the wall and her head slid up and down it a few inches.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Give it to me,” she cried.

So I did. I fucked her hard and didn’t slow down even when my thighs slapped loudly against the back of hers. It was rough and desperate. I pulled her away from the wall and twisted her length-ways on the couch, quickly crawling behind her without losing her pussy. She bent right over, her face falling into the couch and I crouched over her, pumping my cock wildly in her hole. Her elbows were tight by her sides and I realized she was hanging on, waiting for my release. Had she come already or had she lost it because of my roughness? The thought of her being finished, and possibly wanting to quit, spurred me on. I lunged deeper and deeper and she cried out. Before the sound died away, I found my release and grabbed her sides as my leg muscles clenched hard with each gushing deposit.

Finished, I stretched over Mrs. Robinson and followed her down as she stretched out and settled onto the couch. I was surprised to find her still dressed. I was wearing my shirt too but had lost my shorts. I nuzzled her neck for a couple of minutes and tried to kiss her.

“Get off me you big oaf,” she said.

I rose up enough to let her twist around, then settled between her legs, holding my weight off her by resting on my elbows.

“That was a little rushed,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“Not tonight, you won’t.”

“But Mr. Robinson is fast asleep,” I protested.

“Yes, and in a few minutes, I will be too.”

“Aww, Mom.”

“That won’t work anymore tonight, little boy.”

She laughed and shoved me off. By the time I managed to get off the floor, she was halfway up the stairs. That night, just before I fell asleep, I wondered about what she’d said the night before, ‘I know why you like to call me Mom.’ I had to find out why. Maybe I could coax it out of her if I took more time and got her really horny. Anyway, I wanted to be with her for longer. Doing it quick was okay if you were desperate but I wanted more.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next morning Mr. Robinson and I were sitting at the table eating breakfast while Mrs. Robinson sat at the counter making up a shopping list. The counters in the Robinson kitchen were L-shaped and there were three stools situation around the bottom of the ‘L’, two on the far side and one on the end. Mrs. Robinson sat on the stool off the end. She asked us if there was anything we wanted that she might have forgotten. Mr. Robinson rattled his newspaper, indicating he didn’t want to be bothered so Mrs. Robinson called me over to help when I finished my cereal. I put my bowl in the sink and sauntered over to lean against the counter where she was sitting.

“Anything you want that’s not on the list?” Mrs. Robinson asked, her bare foot bumping the front of my leg just below the knee.

I craned my neck sideways and read the list as her toes scratched the inside of my leg.

“Nope, don’t see anything?”

“Are you sure. Look closer,” Mrs. Robinson said, tapping the list with the eraser end of her pencil.

I leaned closer to review the list again. I was down maybe two or three items when she tapped the front of my shorts with the pencil, right on my pecker, which immediately started to swell. I thought it was a mistake until she tapped my cock again, this time leaving the pencil engaged with my shorts.

“Let’s see,” she said. “We’ve got wieners,…”

She applied pressure to the pencil and rubbed it down the length of my shaft which felt absolutely fantastic because, by chance, the tip was facing up so the pencil scraped along the more sensitive underside.

“…and bananas,

My cock continued growing as Mrs. Robinson’s toes dug into my leg and the pencil rubbed harder up and down my shaft. I looked around to see if Mr. Robinson was still reading the newspaper.

“Pay attention,” Mrs. Robinson snapped, painfully flicking the underside of my cock.

I swiveled my head about and looked at the list.

“Do you like zucchini?” she asked.

I groaned, for Mrs. Robinson pressed the pencil firmly against my cock and scraped it down, then pointed it in to slip it between my legs and brought it up to rub my balls.

“Do you, Allen? Do you like zucchini?” she repeated, returning up my shaft.

“Yes,” I lied, not wanting to say anything to upset her.

“How about cucumbers?”

The eraser found that sensitive part on the underside of my glans, then rotated and wiggled, sapping the strength from my legs.

“I thought you might like cucumbers,” Mrs. Robinson said, pushing the pencil in exquisitely hard and looking up at me with a mischievous smile.

“Yes,” I replied. “I do, very much.”

“So do I,” she gushed, turning the pencil sideways again and rubbing it rapidly up and down my cock.

I stared at the list for the next two minutes while Mrs. Robinson continued rubbing the underside of my cock through my shorts with the pencil. I leaned on the counter with my hands to help keep myself up. I looked at her a couple of times. She was looking up at me with that pesky smile and steamy eyes. She pouted and blew me a kiss, delighting in my discomfort at nearing orgasm with her husband sitting right behind me.

Suddenly, she pulled the pencil away and I nearly gasped at the loss. Dropping it on the counter, she replaced it with her hand, cupping around my shaft and squeezing hard, then softening her grip and rubbing, then squeezing hard again. Less than a minute later, I came, soaking the front of my shorts. Mrs. Robinson released me and picked up the pencil.

“Okay, it looks like we’re finished. How about you dear?”

The paper rattled as I presume Mr. Robinson lowered it to look at his wife. My spine stiffened and the hair on the back of my neck bristled.


“Anything you want me to get at the grocery store?”

“No, can’t think of anything.”

The paper rattled again. I stepped around Mrs. Robinson and made my way to the stairs.

Later that day, Mrs. Robinson was sitting on the same stool in the kitchen, while I was waiting near the door for Mr. Robinson to come downstairs so we could to check on his boat.

“Come here for a minute, Allen,” she called.

As I approached her she looked down at my shorts which made me remember the morning’s exercise with the list and caused me to get excited all over again. Just a look from her made me hard.

“I see you’re changed your shorts,” she said.

“Yes. I, uh…had an accident this morning.”

“Did you?” Mrs. Robinson seemed quite amused.

“What kind of accident?” She reached out and snagged my shorts by the waistband.

“It was nothing,” I said.

“Nothing? I don’t believe that.”

Mrs. Robinson pulled me to her and, holding my shorts out at the waistband with one hand, deftly undid my zipper with the other. My cock was free and in her hand before I could say lickety-split.

“Mrs. Robinson, I…”

“Mom,” she corrected me.

“Mom, I…uh, Mr. Robinson is right upstairs.”

“We’re going out to visit some friends tonight, so I won’t be able to see you tonight.”

My objections melted away, unlike my cock which had hardened proudly in her hands. Mrs. Robinson ducked and my cock was engulfed in her wet, warm mouth. Immediately, she began bobbing her head. My hand curled around her hair, lifting it so I could see her face. What the hell. I started flexing my hips to help her take it deep. A couple of minutes later, fearing I wouldn’t be able to finish before Mr. Robinson came downstairs, I grasped her head and began seriously pumping in and out of her mouth. Not much later, Mrs. Robinson accepted my seed within her, accommodating me with ease. She zipped me up and patted my chest.

“I expect to hear that Mr. Robinson’s afternoon was every bit as good as your morning.”

“You will if I have anything to do with it.”

“Don’t disappoint me, Allen.”

“I won’t. I hope I never will.”

“I know you do,” she smiled.

Mr. Robinson steps sounded on the stairs.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next morning I awoke to the sound of muffled voices. I looked around but I was alone. Staring at the ceiling, I located the source of the voices. They were coming from the heat vent. I stood up on the bed to listen. The vent had been closed for the summer. I opened it and the voices became clearer.

“You came to bed much sooner that I thought. Did you not feel like teasing him?”

“He wasn’t in the mood.”

“Joan, don’t give me that.”

“Okay, I wasn’t in the mood. I was tired and afraid he might get out of control. He looked pretty horny and he was expecting something, maybe too much.”

“I warned you.”

“Yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“I’m just saying, you lost control before with Gary and look what happened. I know it worked for a while but sooner or later, if you dangle an ice cream cone in front of a kid, he’s going to want to lick it.”

“He would have been alright if you hadn’t freaked out.”

“No Joan, you went too far and he couldn’t handle it.”

“But look how much he improved. Maybe if I’d gone further, he would have been completely cured.”

“Jesus Christ, Joan. He’s our son!”

“I know, but I was helping him, more than all those doctors, anyway.”

“Yes, yes, you were helping him with the one hand and screwing him up with the other. You took it too far and he couldn’t handle it.”

“He was fine until you had your little tantrum.”

“Okay, maybe that sent him over the cliff but you drove him right to the edge.”

“He would have been fine. I was already weaning him off.”

“You were too late. If you’d kept it within reasonable boundaries, you might have been able to keep control, but you enjoyed it too much and you let it get away from you. It wasn’t Gary’s fault, he’s just a kid. You lost him for us.”

Holy Christ! Mrs. Robinson had been fooling around with Gary and Mr. Robinson knew about it. No wonder he was pissed about me staying with them. But why had he relented? Why did he seem so happy with my presence now?

“I did not enjoy it! I did what I did to help our son after we tried everything else.”

“Joan, what you’ve accomplished with Gary was a miracle. I’ll admit that your ‘method’ worked incredibly well, until that day. In retrospect, it was worth it to get Gary back for the little time we had him but, please, be careful this time. Don’t go so far.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I’ll keep things under control this time. I’ll just let him kiss me and feel me up at bit, and maybe let him see me in the nude.”

“Well, as long as you can ‘wean’ him off, as you say.”

“That’s what I was about to do if you’d stop interfering.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s not fight anymore.”

“Fine. I’ll start weaning Gary off.”

“You mean Allen,” Mr. Robinson said.

“Yes, of course, Allen.”

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

I made sure the bed didn’t creak when I sat down. Holy shit. Mrs. Robinson had fooled around with Gary and Mr. Robinson knew his wife was teasing me but had no idea how far it had gone, giving me a blow job and fuck twice. I knew she wasn’t going to ‘wean’ me off no matter what she said to him. She liked it, I could tell. She had probably liked fooling around with her son and now she was doing it with his friend. When Mr. Robinson left, I was going upstairs to have some fun with Mrs. Robinson, no question about it. Shit, my cock was hard already. I rubbed it. I could hardly wait. Come on, Mr. Robinson, leave already.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The front door couldn’t have been closed more than ten seconds before I went upstairs. Mrs. Robinson wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, and I couldn’t see her outside. As I started up the stairs, I heard Mr. Robinson’s car back out of the driveway and speed away. I smiled and rubbed my cock through my shorts.

“Mrs. Robinson?” I called. No answer.

“Mrs. Robinson?”

I pushed her bedroom door open and peeked inside. She was standing in front of her mirror, holding a dress up in front of her, but she was completely naked. I walked toward her but stopped when she looked up at me through the mirror.

“Allen, just who I wanted to see.”

She twirled around, holding the dress against the front of her body.

“What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I like it a lot.”

“So do I. In fact, I love it but I’m not sure I can wear it.”

“Why not.”

“Because it’s too sexy. Don’t you think it’s sexy?”

“Yeah, on you. It’s real sexy.”

“See, that’s the problem.”


Mrs. Robinson ignored my question.

“Why?” I repeated.

“Why, Mom,” she said.

My cock twitched and lengthened.

“Why, Mom?” Another twitch.

“Did you hear Mr. Robinson and me arguing?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, but I didn’t want to talk about it. Here comes the ‘I have to wean you off bit’, I thought.

“Well, he thinks I’ve been flirting with you too much.”


“What do you think?”

“Well, I…uh, I like Mr. Robinson.”

She made a cute, endearing face, then stretched one foot out to the side, baring her hip, and looked down the length of her leg.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, I know you like Mr. Robinson. So do I.” She giggled. “But what do you think about me flirting with you?”

Flirting? Was she kidding? What were we talking about here. We had been fucking and she was talking about whether or not we should be flirting?

“Well, I guess, if he doesn’t like it, maybe we shouldn’t.”

“But, do you like it?”

“Yeah, I like it.”

“So do I.” Mrs. Robinson brought her foot in and stretched the other one out, baring that hip and leg all the way down. “It’s up to you, I guess.”

“Um…well…if he doesn’t know about it…”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t tease you on the couch when Mr. Robinson is home?”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“But, if he’s not home, it’s ok?”

Was this a trap? If so, I couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, if he isn’t home then I guess it won’t bother him.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

Mrs. Robinson giggled and fluffed her hair with one hand, messing it up but making her look wild and sexy. She turned around to look at the dress she held in front of her with her other hand, presenting me with her naked behind.

“So you like it, Allen? You think it’s sexy?”

I looked Mrs. Robinson up and down, pausing at the swells of her tits peeking out at her sides and the flare of her hips as they jutted out to form her ass. The back of her thighs showed the slightest sprinkle of cellulite but it was quite minor.

“Would you do me a favor, Allen?” she asked in a very cute voice, her eyes glancing sideways through the mirror in a coquettish manner.

“Yeah, sure,” I answered, my swelling tongue making it difficult to speak.

“Would you put my pillows in the middle of the bed for me?”


“You mean, pardon me, Mom?”

“Ah, yeah. Pardon me, Mom?”

“Pile two of the pillows up on the bed for me.”

I piled one pillow on top of another like she asked.

“No silly. Put them in the middle.”

I dragged the pillows into the middle of the bed.

“That’s good,” she said, turning back to the mirror. She examined herself critically for about twenty seconds. “That’s too bad. I really like this dress. Mean old Mr. Robinson.”

Mrs. Robinson tossed the dress to the floor and, for the first time, I saw her in all her stark beauty. She padded over to the bed, pressed her knees onto the edge, and threw herself across the pillows. With her tummy perfectly centered, her ass was prominently presented.

I stared, unsure of what to do despite the firm resolve I had carried up the stairs.

Mrs. Robinson spread her legs.

“Mr. Robinson isn’t here,” she squeaked.

Nothing stirred in the room for a few seconds while I digested her meaning. Woodenly, but with increasing speed, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it away, then shoved my shorts down and off. I approached the bed tentatively, as ridiculous as that was, given the situation, with my hard cock wavering about erratically. My knees bumped against the edge and Mrs. Robinson’s legs spread wide, pulling her pussy apart so the pink slit showed and parting her cheeks enough to reveal a tiny, darker hole above them. Cunt or ass? Was it my choice? I thought not, since her anus was dry, unlike her glistening lower lips.

I clambered up on the bed.


“Yeah,” I responded, grasping my cock and lining it up with her pussy.

“If you’re going to call me Mom, do you mind if I call you Gary?”

Really? This was getting really kinky.

It had seemed strange when she asked me to call her Mom. At first, I had thought she was just trying tom make me feel at home and then suspected that she thought I had had a thing for my mother, but her wanting me to call her Gary was confirmation that she had a thing for her son and missed it. What the hell, it made me harder, if that was possible.

“Yeah, sure, Mom. Call me Gary.”

A strange excitement percolated through me and I almost giggled with delight. This was going to be fun.

“Ohhhh, Gary. What do you want? Tell Mommy.”

Mrs. Robinson reached back and pulled her cheeks apart. The little hole widened into a dime-sized oval.

Holy shit! The choice was now real. I had seen anal sex on the internet. Hell, before having Mrs. Robinson, all of two times, I had only seen fucking on the internet too. Could I fuck her in the ass without any lube?

I nudged the tip of my cock against her pink wetness. As soon as it made contact, it was sucked inside, enveloping the head within a delicious, wet and warm cocoon. Oh, my fucking God! I loved this feeling. How could being in her ass be any better? I shoved myself home, pulled out slowly, and penetrated her again.

Mrs. Robinson kept her ass spread through the next dozen thrusts and I began to query my own conclusion. If she kept her ass spread, even while I was fucking her, she must want it there. Or, was she surprised by my decision and waiting for me to come to my senses? Did it really feel that good? Every time I pushed in and out, her butt hole winked at me, teasing me with its secret knowledge.

I pumped Mrs. Robinson another dozen or so times before my curiosity got the better of me. I pulled out, raised my cock an inch, and pushed it against the little hole but it skidded over it. Pulling back and holding it more carefully, I tried again but though it remained centered, it wouldn’t go in despite Mrs. Robinson pulling harder on her cheeks. All it did was bend painfully.

“Gary, put something on it,” Mrs. Robinson gasped.

How easily my name sprung to her lips, as if it was more natural than my own name. Obviously, having a cock behind her, trying to get into her ass, was something she more readily associated with her son than his friend. I resolved to change that in the future whenever Mr. Robinson wasn’t here, as she said. Neither was Gary, except in spirit, and through my cock.

I leaned close and drooled onto her puckered opening.

“No, Gary. The lube, the lube,” she gasped, wiggling her ass about in over-eager anticipation.

Briefly, her left hand flung out before returning to spread her cheeks. There, now uncovered by the pillow, was a translucent tube. Lube!

I grasped the tube, opened it, and squirted a healthy portion onto Mrs. Robinson’s ass. Too much, really. I spread it around and then scooped some up to rub on the tip of my cock and then squeezed it down my shaft. About to try entering her again, I paused, and pushed some of the extra I had spread out trying to scoop it up back onto her hole. I pushed it inside, sliding my finger all the way in.

“Ohhhhh, Gary. It’s been so long,” she sighed.

“Yeah, how long?” I asked, working my finger slowly in and out, surprised by how easily it slipped through her previously tight hole and also surprised that my finger wasn’t covered in shit. I really was a novice at this.

“Since you went away,” she sighed, obviously pleased with what I was doing.

I squeezed my index finger together with the longest one and pushed them both inside her ass.

“Ohhhh, yesss.”

I spent the next five minutes playing with Mrs. Robinson’s butt, sliding my fingers in and out, holding them out until she puckered for more, pushing in with surprising zeal and holding in hard while slowly twisting back and forth. She loved it all. Soon, and eagerness to feel my cock inside her overwhelmed my curiosity and playfulness. I was ready for serious action. From the sounds she made as I clambered up onto my feel and squatted over her, bending my cock down to line it up with her butthole, Mrs. Robinson was through with playing around too.

It went in way easier this time, penetrating rather than bending, but it was slow going in. she was tight, very tight, which surprised me given how easily my two fingers had been able to explore her dark cavern.

“Oh God, Gary. Easy. Easy.”

I held still, traumatized. I didn’t want to hurt her. A few seconds pass while her puckered lips clasped and released, clasped and released. She pushed back, taking more of my cock, but only a little. Man, she was tight. So tight, it hurt my cock a bit. I pushed some of the extra lube around the edge where her butt clasped my cock, trying to push it in, and also rubbed it up my shaft. She pushed back again, taking in some of the recently lubed shaft.

“Ahhhhh, Gary. So good, sooo good,” she sighed.

Forgetting myself, I pushed in, lurching ahead a full inch.

“Ahhhh God, yesss.”

I pushed in again, and then again. Once more and I was buried to the hilt. I stayed there, not knowing what to do, until she began pulling herself off my cock. I retreated, as slowly as I could. I stopped before coming out of her completely, unsure if I should, my memory of internet ass fucks failing to provide me with guidance. I started back in and she groaned, but it wasn’t in pain, at least not all of it. I tried to go in and stop but failed. Slipping head in steadily, Mrs. Robinson emitted a groan of pleasure such as I had never heard come from a woman, from her or on the internet. She really liked this, that was for sure.

I buried myself to the hilt again, paused for a briefer period, then withdrew, more quickly than before. Barely hesitating, I shoved back in.


All the way, then out, and back.


As I withdrew, Mrs. Robinson whimpered, “Only for you, Gary. Only for you.”

I pushed in vigorously.


After that, I started fucking her with more confidence, as if I were in her pussy. It was the same except she was still tighter and it felt more exciting, although I didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the sounds she emitted, low and guttural, almost animal-like.

I fucked her ass hard, then slow, then hard again, loving how her sounds changed but always sounded wild and abandoned, no matter what. At one point, I shoved her forward and squatted with my thighs straddling her ass, cock deeply embedded, and rocked into her ass, using my thigh muscles to burgeon my cock as thick as I could.

“Fuck it,” Mrs. Robinson cried.

“Take it,” I hissed. “Take it hard.”

She didn’t answer except with more ragged moans and groans. I don’t know why I suddenly became aggressive but it spun me up to new heights and I could barely contain my orgasm until it burst with explosive force. It felt like I pumped so much spend in her ass that my cock was forced out but it was Mrs. Robinson squeezing me out. I sat back on my haunches, cock flopping before me between her thighs, and watched as my jism oozed out of her ass onto her pussy. The sight made my cock stiffen and I lurched forward, grasping my slippery cock, and fed it inside her cunt. Quickly, I heaved off the rest of my renewed orgasm while Mrs. Robinson flopped helplessly beneath my assault. Her meek acceptance threw me over the edge again.

This time, when I pulled out, I spoke gruffly, “Gary wants it like that all the time.”

“I know,” she acknowledged with total acceptance.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

Our relationship changed after that. Gone was the tentative Allen seeking reward for ever more adventurous excursions outdoors. I became more confident, even when Mr. Robinson was around. Going outside, anywhere, no longer bothered me. Whenever Mr. Robinson was gone, I fucked Mrs. Robinson. In the pussy, in the ass, whatever was my pleasure that day.

Truth be told, I preferred being in her pussy and even liked face-to-face better than from behind, which had been my preference before, probably because it was less like ass-fucking. I loved holding her behind the knees and shoving her legs way back, keeping her immobile, waiting for my pleasure. I learned to work her over leisurely like that, then pounding on her furiously, backing off to go slow for awhile, teasing her, then getting it on again. We loved fucking each other.

Mrs. Robinson started calling me Gary all the time which, at first, really freaked me out. We were having dinner, and Mr. Robinson was in the middle of passing me a bowl of potatoes when Mrs. Robinson said, “I’ll have that after you, Gary.”

Mr. Robinson froze, the bowl hovering in mid-air just out of my reach from my out-stretched hand. He looked at her but she seemed oblivious, as if nothing had happened. I stared at him, my eyes wide with growing fright. The bowl was suddenly in my hands.

“Pass those to your mother when you’re done, Gary,” he said, then busied himself cutting his meat.

After that Mrs. Robinson called me Gary with increasing frequency but similar reaction. Mr. Robinson started referring to me as Gary when he spoke to his wife and even called me that directly a few times.

I celebrated by taking Mrs. Robinson for a quickie from behind several times when Mr. Robinson was in the house. The first time, I caught her by surprise, passing by her in the upstairs hallway. Suddenly, I caught her by the shoulders and turned her into the wall. By the time she protested, I had yanked her skirt up and was already feeding my unlimbered cock between her legs, skidding her panties aside. It was a quick, huffing and puffing affair. The next time, she was ready. When I cornered her in the hallway, she turned to the wall and lifted her skirt. She wasn’t wearing panties.

That’s when I started down another path, one which, thankfully, didn’t last too long. However, it went too far and I’ve always felt bad about it.

Watching internet porn for ideas, I got an urge to come in Mrs. Robinson’s face. By this time, she was in the habit of giving me a blowjob on days when she and I couldn’t get some time by ourselves for a nice fuck. It was always a neat affair, even when we were rushed. Mrs. Robinson always knew when I was about to unload and always seemed able to take it all, never spilling a drop.

But on this one day, Mrs. Robinson was down on her knees, taking me deep. I had pushed her forehead back and was feeding it into her mouth, slowly, trying to get in as far as I could. I had been doing this the last few times and really got off on making her gag a bit because it made her mouth fill with oozy saliva. Don’t ask me why that made me so horny, I don’t have the answer, but it did.

Well, I had plunged my cock into her really deep and she almost coughed it out, sputtering spit all over. When I pulled my cock away, a long, sticky string of gooey saliva stretched across the gulf separating her chin and my cock. For some reason, this looked incredibly erotic to me and I let go, surprising myself and Mrs. Robinson.

My spunk splashed across her face, covering her chin and nose, then again, spurting across her right cheek and eye, even reaching to her hair. Mrs. Robinson flinched and tried to pull away but my fingers tightened in her hair, holding her still, while I stretched up on my toes and pointed my cock down, releasing the rest of my load in several more youthful bursts until her face was covered.

All characters are 18 years or older.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

So beautiful. The manicured grass sloping gently toward the trees, a mixture of seven shades of green interspersed with bits of yellow and red. It was peaceful, by design. My heart filled with joy, and sadness too, knowing you will soon be here, finally, with me. Oh, my son, I have waited so long.

I remember the first time I became aware of your attraction to me. Your father, who had been away on business, called from the airport to say he was bringing a client home! I scrambled to prepare something better for dinner and then, still in my black exercise leotard, raced around the house, tidying, cleaning, and dusting. My frantic pace didn’t disturb your lolling recline on the couch except to force an occasional crane of your neck to see the TV.

Finally, I stood, exhausted, facing partly away from you toward the window. That’s when I noticed the television in the corner hadn’t completely captured your attention, the reflection in the window revealing the degree to which my pose had trumped the football game.

Still out of breath, I panted harder than necessary for an excuse to stay still, hand braced on my left hip, right jutted-out, and lifted my right hand to push my bushy, shoulder-length hair up and away from my neck. The truth really penetrated my mind then for your gaze fixed upon my right breast which my raised arm profiled quite nicely.

Unconsciously, I let my arm drop to let my breast sag a little, pushing it outward into my top, and your eyes widened. Or at least I thought they did. Maybe my mind was assuming more than the reflection could provide but in that precise moment I rediscovered how it felt to be admired as a woman despite my dress and the state of my hair.

My hair! I turned, unexpectedly, by your reaction.

“They’ll be here any minute,” I cried, and bolted for the stairs.

You scrambled to cover yourself and, given my hasty exit, probably thought you had been successful but as I leaped up the stairs the clear image of the erection tenting your pants seared itself into my brain.

I’m still sexy, even if Don doesn’t know it.

I had been working out for months — almost a year, really — but Don paid less and less attention every week. I noticed the glances of other men but dismissed them when he didn’t confirm their admiration. Writing it off to wishful thinking on my part, I refused to give up and doubled my efforts. But at night, as he snored beside me, I convinced myself I was losing him to a younger woman. Why else would he ignore a female body so conveniently at his disposal when it was in the best shape it been in for twenty years?

So months later my body, in even better shape, continued to draw looks from strange men and now it had even attracted my son. I didn’t quite know what to do with that information or the strange warmth it brought to my heart and body. I tried to dismiss the latter feeling but couldn’t deny I had held my pose far longer than necessary, despite my surprise, and had purposely lowered my arm to make my breast more noticeable, one of many long-forgotten feminine wiles.

I berated myself, wondering how a mother could be so desperate as to seek sexual attention from her own son. I told myself not to overthink a brief moment and that I had no reason to feel bad. My looks had returned and I had reacted, nothing more and nothing less, and so had you, bless your heart. I put on a nice dress, one that emphasized my refurbished figure, and told myself it was because I wanted additional confirmation from Don’s client.

That confirmation came in spades. Clive paid so much attention to me it angered you. Do you remember that, I wonder? It was so long ago. It struck me that you were actually jealous but I dismissed the notion at the time as being ridiculous. Why would you be jealous? There had to be another explanation for your rudeness.

Don, of course, didn’t even notice. I didn’t know why, then, but I thought I did.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

Don worked late even more often after that. He was usually home by nine but sometimes would inexplicably return to the office and not come home until eleven or later. I tried not to be suspicious but one Saturday I ran across his office mate while shopping downtown. Herb asked if Don was with me or shopping for a Xmas gift on his own. I’m sure my surprise escaped before I could compose myself but Herb gallantly didn’t acknowledge it.

“Of course,” I replied. “He loves to surprise me,” I answered.

Don had told me he had to go over some important papers with Herb for an important meeting on Monday. Jealousy initially hit deep but then I rationalized it away — don’t we always do that? Of course, I reasoned, Don was doing just what Herb suggested, buying a special present for me.

When Don came home I snuck out to search his car. There was no present. Of course, he could have taken it to his office, or arranged for it to be delivered later, but I was done with rationalizations. I was hurt and angry. Mostly angry.

Soon after that I began wearing lightweight bras that provided lift and emphasized shape. Within a week I was going braless under a t-shirt covered by a blouse, or under a blouse covered by an open sweater. I knew the relative freedom of my breasts would draw your attention too but I didn’t care. At least one man knew there was a treasure to be found at home!

I can’t believe I was thinking like that but in my defense I was an emotional wreck and felt sexually defunct. I was at the end of my stick. If only I knew how much worse it would get.

Evoking desire in other men proved too easy but, despite my accidental discovery, your attention was more elusive. Of course I knew, though it was taboo, most young men would at some point notice their mothers, if only because of proximity. I had caught you looking once and assumed you had done so more often but were adept at hiding such a forbidden interest. Therefore, I sought confirmation of my womanly prowess in your eyes just to make myself feel good, to be wanted.

Weeks went by where my thoughts were consumed by how to snag your attention with seemingly innocent poses designed to draw attention to my breasts. I repositioned furniture so I could surreptitiously utilize reflections to monitor your reactions and discovered, much to my surprise, that my lower body drew admiring glances longer and more often.

I wore shorter skirts and dresses without pantyhose and sometimes went without underwear so the shape and motion of my buttocks would be easier to discern, but only when Don wasn’t home. I oiled my bare legs and practised crossing them, pausing briefly to maximize the effect when they were open, and tensing my calf muscles unnecessarily to make them look sexy whether crossed or not.

Amazingly, Don didn’t notice the short skirts or the motion of my breasts. Nor did he question why the coffee table was six inches closer to the couch. I often rested my feet on the table in the evening but now braced them on the edge rather than laying them flat, to tighten rather than relax the muscles in my legs. With feet closer to the couch my knees rose higher, allowing my dress to slide down my raised thighs to reveal more glistening, well-oiled leg than was appropriate, even in the privacy of home — especially when my son was present.

I should say, my attentive son, for my weeks of effort had paid off and I measured my daily success not just in the count of surreptitious looks or even in the achievement of an erection, for that was expected. I now sought to prolong your arousal as long as possible, keeping you downstairs doing meaningless chores.

Then I sought your help with my crossword puzzles and, of course, got you to sit beside me. I kept you there for hours, feigning intense interest while using the bottom of the magazine to work my dress higher. At times, it neared my crotch and I was glad the magazine hid its raunchy state from your father’s eyes, should he ever bother to look. When I was stuck, as happened often, I lifted the magazine closer to my face to scrutinize the clues leaving my thighs open for your leisurely inspection. Sometimes I dragged my dress so high my panties were exposed. I went further, lifting one foot from the table to wiggle my toes and tense my calf muscles but the main reason was to stretch my panties tightly across my pussy.

It was shameless! I knew I was being a horrible mother but couldn’t stop. In the afternoon I rented as watched series in which an aristocratic mother repeatedly satisfied her married son. She was evil but I was only playing a harmless game. It was fun, and okay because nothing had actually happened.

Like any addict, I didn’t realize how far gone I was, not even when I began removing my panties after dinner before sitting down to do a crossword. I knew you were aware something was up because I was too worked up to keep the tension out of my breathing.

The first time you smelled my excitement your whole body stiffened in surprise — everywhere, not just there. You stuttered and blushed when I queried you for word suggestions and tried to leave but I laid a hand on your forearm and pleaded for you to stay until the puzzle was done. I teased you wickedly but relinquished the joy of torture when I sensed you were about to come, actually come, in your pants.

Even then I didn’t quit.

Did you know I followed you upstairs that night to listen to the rapid patter of your masturbation? I knew you were thinking of me, though you didn’t mention my name, and it made me feel very sexy. That was the first time I slipped my fingers inside myself while thinking about how much I had aroused you. Until then I had limited myself to a few rubs but that was no longer enough. I pushed three fingers into my wet cunt to mimic the size of the bulge I had witnessed in your pants. When the speed of your hand and your moans betrayed the imminent culmination of your arousal I reached my own release and felt closer to you than I ever had, except perhaps at birth.

I should have quit then. Any reasonable mother would have, even if she had been insane enough to reach my state of degradation. Instead, the next night, I used the crossword magazine to push my dress high enough to bare myself, and then raised it, tilted toward the lamp, and Don, to hide my exposed state. Of course, nothing was hidden from you, not my slightly open legs or my carefully trimmed fur which glistened like my legs but from my own dew. I let you stare for several minutes and then parted my legs further to show a little pink, but only briefly. I didn’t try to stop you when you groaned loudly and jumped up.

“What’s wrong?” your father asked, but you were already running toward the stairs. He turned to me but thankfully I had lowered the magazine and tugged my dress into a more appropriate position. “What’s wrong with Donny?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, seeming worried. “I’ll go check.”

Despite my apparent concern, I sauntered up the stairs. I knew Don wasn’t watching and I wanted to give you time to get started. I felt very sexy and wanted to enjoy the feeling of warmth rolling outward from my center, the spread of my own condensation dampening my inner thighs, and the power my son’s escape ingested within me.

I was too late. You had been in such a hurry you hadn’t fully closed the bathroom door and it was obvious you were already coming. I should have left but stayed to hear the whole thing after you rasped a single, magic word.


It was too late then to make an escape so I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation between mother and son, the first acknowledgement that I knew you were masturbating. I would have to brush it off but could I when it was so obvious what had triggered it?

And would I? Could I trust myself when you opened the door, perhaps still stuffing your semihard cock into your pants? Would I grab it and stuff into myself instead of my fingers, as I wanted to? Could I control myself, force myself to do the right thing? This was no longer a game, I realized with a sinking feeling, yet I stood fast instead of running and braced myself for the most important face-to-face of our lives. I didn’t know what would happen.

But you didn’t come out. There was silence, then a sigh, and that magic word again…Mom. You were at it again. Once was not enough for your mother! I inhaled your love, seeping through the crack in the door, and swayed on my feet, dizziness briefly overcoming me. The floor creaked and the sound of your hand stopped.

I stood rooted to the floor, unable to breathe, or move. My ears tried to pierce the wall and I noted with horror that my hand had lifted my dress and slid between my legs to cup my sex. I tried to pull it away but instead let the pad of my longest finger push into my slit. Long seconds passed, followed by a quiet grunt and the sound of the renewed movement of your hand. I turned toward the wall and leaned forward until my forehead pressed against it, the nearest I could be to you. I pushed my fingers inside and started working them in concert with the sound of your hand.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

You bought me a thick magazine of the toughest New York Times crosswords the next day. Do you remember that? You’d think I would have recognized the danger in that but I didn’t, or at least, I didn’t acknowledge it. I thought it was so cute that you found a way to make me ponder for every word that I let you inspect my fur every night that week. I took my time getting to it but that made the game more fun.

The sight of the pink didn’t make you lurch into coming as quickly and I liked that. We sat next to each other, one hard and one wet, for ages, until you eventually went upstairs to masturbate and I inevitably followed. We did ourselves in unison, unbeknownst to you, almost every night for two weeks.

I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened on one of those nights when my fur was finally exposed. Delicious tingles danced around my pussy and it twitched. Though my nose was supposedly buried in the crossword magazine I registered an immediate reaction from you. Peeking sideways under the magazine, I noticed a complementary surge in your bulge and that encouraged me to do it on purpose. I hunched my pelvis, thrusting forward the tiniest bit, just enough to flex my mound without any apparent outer movement. I forgot I wasn’t wearing panties. If you were captivated before, you were lost then.

I told myself you didn’t know I was doing it on purpose, or that I had knowingly dragged my dress up my legs and spread them in the first place. Incredibly, I believed you thought I was innocent and unaware my sex was so blatantly exposed, that you were simply the fortunate recipient of repeated, accidental clothing malfunctions. It was a ridiculous assumption believable only to an addict in complete denial.

Things deteriorated from there.

I had been teasing you with sexy, supposedly innocent, poses in the kitchen until you suddenly needed to leave but I grasped your forearm to keep you there.

“Give your Mom a kiss,” I implored.

You tried to pull away but I insisted and dragged your face down for a kiss on your cheek. You were trembling and I felt almost cruel when I refused to let you go.

“Give me a hug, too.”

You resisted.

“Don’t you love your mother?” I asked, pulling your arms around me.

I pressed against your body and felt the strength of you manhood. It shocked and excited me and I wanted to envelop it with my soft flesh but was afraid you’d run away. When I felt it jerk against my tummy I let you go and acted like everything was okay.

“Thanks, honey.” I turned away. “I’ll call you for dinner.”

After that we began touching during the day, just hugs and pecks on the cheek, and the odd quick kiss, but they became more and more frequent, especially the hugs. Strange that the thing you seemed so afraid to do became your favorite. The hugs became longer and you liked to surprise me from behind when I was busy. We both pretended it was platonic and there wasn’t anything pressing between us.

Perhaps that eased the transition from looking to touching during the evening crossword session. I grasped your forearm one evening when I knew you were ready to go upstairs. I hadn’t meant to do anything more than keep you for a few moments longer but when you took the loose, flopping left page of the puzzle magazine in your other hand, I pulled your right down to rest on my thigh. My bare thigh, only inches away from my wet, pulsing pussy. In that instant, through that small movement and delicate touch, I admitted to us both I knew exactly what I was doing.

It was an electric moment. You didn’t pull your hand away as I half expected. Neither of us moved while we continued to discuss clues and suggestions. Several minutes passed during which our bodies began to react to this new level in our game. My pussy pulsed involuntarily, beyond my control and unable to ignore the proximity of your warm hand. I knew, by the trembling in your leg, that you were also having difficulty controlling yourself. We started to come, together, sitting next to each other and only feet from your father, all from the warmth of your hand on my bare thigh!

You went upstairs and masturbated yourself to another come, moaning my name louder and more often than ever before. I bit my lip to stop from moaning yours in return, realizing I wanted you to hear me, to burst out the door and fill me with your meat. All my fingers fit easily inside that night and I fell to the floor. You took a long time to clean up and I wondered if you knew I was there.

I pulled your hand onto my upper thigh the next two nights. You kept it still but the third night you beat me to it, grasping the left page of the crossword magazine and placing your hand on my thigh. After a few minutes you moved it ever so slightly until your fingers dangled down the inside of my thigh, the tips only an inch or so from my pussy. The next night they came close enough to brush the edge of my fur.

You didn’t try to move closer but after about ten minutes or so, an eon it seemed, your finger pressed into my flesh, then released. A minute or two later you did it again and gradually did it more often. Press and release, press and release, press and release.

It felt wonderful, so fantastic I almost forgot Don was sitting only feet away. It was the most intense sexual touch I had ever experienced, bar none! My whole body trembled in anticipation of the next press. And then you did it. You changed your touch, pressing in and dragging the flesh of my thigh outward, away from my tingling pussy, opening my secret lips, holding them exposed, then letting them snap back in a flurry of frantic, neural impulses. I almost passed out and briefly lost hold of my side of the magazine. By the time I came to my senses and grabbed it you were pulling my pussy apart again.

I came quickly that night but harder upstairs where I didn’t have to pretend nothing was going on. Of course, you and I knew there was but we maintained the pretense. During the day you didn’t try to touch me any differently, simply hugging and kissing my cheek or pecking me on the lips. But at night you continued to pull on my pussy lips until we both came, right next to your father.

Upstairs, outside the bathroom, the urge to feel your meat filling me became stronger each night. I wanted to beg you to come out, grab my tits hard and press me to the wall, enter me with unbridled enthusiasm, then throw me to the floor and fuck me from behind!

But I didn’t call out, and you never put your hand on my pussy, upstairs or downstairs. Nevertheless, eventually I knew I would beg for it or you would touch me. It was only a matter of time and then our lives would change forever, and probably caught. It was only a sign of Don’s distraction that our shenanigans hadn’t been discovered already. Amazing, really, until I found out why.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

A letter from the hospital arrived addressed to your father. Suspecting a billing error, I opened it. It confirmed the date for the start of his radiation treatments and follow-on chemotherapy. Don had cancer!

I stumbled into the kitchen in a daze and sat down. My husband was sick, possibly deathly ill! We had been married for twenty-four years, survived the death of our first child, and raised a fine son. Yes, we had our difficulties of late but I still loved Don. I suddenly knew why Don disappeared at night and sat vacantly when he was at home. He was preoccupied with his fate. No wonder he hadn’t noticed Donny and I playing around! But why should he face this on his own? Why hadn’t he shared this with his family?

Anger flooded through me and the more I thought about it the angrier I became. I was his wife, Donny was his son, and we were a family! My hands trembled and I bit my lip often waiting for him to come home. Boy, I was going to let him have it.

I didn’t, of course. I did just the opposite. Don seemed, if anything, relieved that I knew. He cried and admitted he couldn’t find the courage to tell us. He didn’t want us to feel bad. Can you imagine? He was facing death and he didn’t want us to be sad.

I thanked God nothing had happened between us that couldn’t be undone and vowed to redeem myself by providing exemplary care for my husband. I noted over the following weeks that you must have made a similar commitment for while I cared for and cleaned up after your father you did the housework, shopped for groceries and cooked most of the meals. I loved you and knew you loved me but we also loved your father.

What had happened between us had nothing to do with him but apparently stopping it had everything to do with him. You continued to help me with my crosswords but didn’t sit near me. The kisses on the cheek and pecks on the lips stopped, as did the hugs. When I noticed, I wrote it off to exhaustion, physical and emotional. The first round of radiation and chemo wasn’t too bad but the second was, the third promised to be worse and the last was reputed to be brutal. Those predictions proved accurate.

Don lost his hair and appetite, dropping about sixty pounds. He was weak, bed-ridden, and the few hours you and I shared together downstairs were a welcome respite. Is it surprising we starting hugging again? How could I not kiss you after months of quietly picking up the pieces when I couldn’t manage?

I was an emotional wreck after Don’s final treatment. While feeding him lunch a few days later he commented on your incredible support during his illness, and mine.

“I don’t deserve it,” he said. “I don’t deserve either of you.”

“Of course you do,” I replied, sitting on the bed beside him, ignoring the now faint pangs of guilt.

“I’m feeling better.”

“That’s good.”

“Enough for you to leave me for a few hours,” he continued.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you and Donny to go somewhere nice for dinner tonight. You both need a break.”

“Don, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It will do you both good to get away from this for a few hours.”

“We’re fine.”

I stroked his forehead but he caught my hand. I was surprised by his strength.

“See? I’ll be fine”

“You’re still very sick.”

“Please. It will make me feel better to see you get dressed up and have a little fun.” His eyes pleaded with mine. “Please,” he repeated.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Positive. Have a shower and then do me a favor before you go.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me watch you put oil on your legs. I noticed you were doing that a while back and meant to tell you how good your legs look, but…”

I laughed. “You really are feeling better.”

“I told you.”

“Okay, but I’ll take a long bath first.”

“Take your time.”

“I will.”

“And then the oil. You do have gorgeous legs.”

Those words made me feel great.

I fed Don early that afternoon and then took a long bath, disrobing in front of him. I soaked for an hour, refilled the tub, and entered the much later bedroom wrapped in a large towel. I let it slip from my body when I opened a drawer to get clean underwear.

“Oil,” Don said. “Remember the oil.”

“Yes, of course. I forgot,” I lied.

I felt conflicted oiling my legs for Don. Memories surfaced of the hours I spent displaying my legs for you when I thought he had given me up for a younger woman but I hid my feelings and gave him a good show.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered when I was finished.

“I wasn’t bad years ago.”

“You’re sexier now. A mature woman, and a mother.

“Uh huh. May I get dressed now?”

“Please do.”

Don smiled, weakly, but it was a smile nonetheless. He insisted that I wear my sexiest underwear and put on one of my shorter, shape-enhancing dresses.

“But I’m taking my son to dinner,” I protested.

“He won’t know what’s underneath.”

“I should hope not,” I replied sharply.

“I can picture you walking into the Brio on our handsome son’s arm.”

“That’s an odd thought.”

“Is it?”

“Kind of.”

So you and I went to the Brio, since your father suggested it. I meant to hurry home but we enjoyed ourselves so much I lost sense of time. It was late when we returned, to a disaster, as it turned out. Despite his apparent strength, Don was still quite sick and had fallen trying to get to the bathroom. It took us an hour to get him and the bedroom cleaned up. The exhaustion, so quickly forgotten, soon returned. It was after midnight when I descended the stairs to find you watching a late movie.

“I thought you’d be in bed.”

“I made tea.”

“Oh, Donny. You’re a godsend.”

I drank the tea and watched the movie in silence. I can’t remember what it was but do recall being conscious of you sitting next to me unaware of the sexy underthings I was wearing. It stirred feelings within me I hadn’t felt for many weeks but they were accompanied by an incredible guilt.

“We shouldn’t have gone. He’s still sick.”

“I know,” you replied. “But he wanted us to. We did it for him.”

“That’s true. God, I’m so tired.”

“Why don’t you go to bed?”

“I’m more weary than tired.”

You took my hand and put your arm around me, pulling gently. Comforted, I leaned against you and we nuzzled heads. Long minutes passed as we swayed together, the tea forgotten. You pulled away all too soon and leaned back onto the arm at the far end of the couch, still holding my hand, and pulling me with you.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you said.

My head landed on your chest. You patted my hair with one hand and stroked my back with the other. It was nice and I was soon at ease. As the minutes passed, the strain drained from my body and I sagged heavily upon you. I felt so safe and loved in that moment. I began to drift off.

My eyes fluttered open, I don’t know how much later it was but the movie was still on. My breasts were pressed into your stomach and your hands were still on my back, stroking. I smiled and thanked God I had been blessed with such a good son. I sighed contentedly, and then noticed your hands were caressing my bare skin!

My dress was unzipped and the bra disconnected. Your hands scratched my back, sweeping wide in overlapping circles that crossed either side of my spine. Although you didn’t touch me inappropriately your fingertips dipped dangerously near the side of my breasts. Nevertheless, it was soothing and I relaxed, enjoying the, evidently platonic, embrace.

Slowly, I became aware of your hardness pressing into my stomach. I had seen your bulge many times through the weeks that I teased you, and had imagined your cock while you stroked it just a few feet away in the bathroom, but I had only felt it through your jeans. Now, pressed in all its glory against my tummy with only your pajamas and my flimsy dress dividing us I realized my imagination had fallen short.

It pulsed into my stomach as you breathed and moved a little as your arms crossed from one side to the other over my back. I was torn. I loved the soothing feel of your hands on my back but was more afraid of the seductive lure of the tumescence pressing into my stomach. I knew I had to get up but couldn’t bring myself to move and kidded myself it was because I didn’t know how to extract myself without embarrassing you. You solved the problem when your hands abruptly reconnected the bra and zipped up my dress.

“Wake up, Mom. It’s time for bed,” you whispered.

I feigned waking, supposedly unaware of the large tube steak pressing into my flesh, conscious you had saved me from myself and that I lacked the ability to resist had you made an inappropriate advance.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

By noon the next day Don seemed better again and that night, after supper, he asked me to oil my legs for him again. I did so, langorously, on the bed beside him. While his attention was focused on my calves I glanced at his groin to see how much he was truly enjoying the show. To my surprise, he was soft, completely flaccid!

Why, then, did he want me to act so sexy in front of him when he was so obviously not interested, or capable of doing anything about it if he was? Why would he torture himself? I didn’t get it.

“Will you put on the pleated grey skirt with a white blouse?” he asked.

“If it makes you happy.”

I picked out a bra but he stopped me before I could put it on.

“No bra.”

“No bra? Alright,” I agreed reluctantly. “But I’ll have to get changed again.”

“You can put a sweater on after.”


I dropped the bra and chose a pair of white panties.

“Not those. The black ones.”


“Alice!” he countered, and laughed.

“I can’t parade around the house in little more than a thong.”

“Only you and I will know.”

I shook my head.

“Humor me,” he pleaded.

I relented. “Alright, but I don’t see the point.”

“The point is I want to think about you walking around like that.”

“Whatever get’s you off.”

When I was dressed, Don said, “Beautiful.” His smile faded briefly and then strengthened. He waved his hand dismissively and said. “Now go have dinner and let me rest.”

I had thought Don might be feeling well enough to join us, but apparently not, so you and I ate dinner alone. I could see you knew I wasn’t wearing a bra which bothered me because you might think it was because I let you unzip my dress. I wanted to straighten you out but couldn’t without acknowledging that I knew you had unzipped my dress.

I also didn’t want to reveal your father’s request because it was private but would have needed to mention it for an adequate explanation. Moreover, I was afraid I might let it slip that he couldn’t achieve an erection and I didn’t want him to seem less in your eyes. Men can be funny about such things.

I was also confused about Don. If he thought it would help to watch me parade around in sexy clothes why didn’t he ask me to walk around the bedroom in front of him instead of sending me away?

So we ate and did the dishes and relaxed in the living room, watching TV. Later, we made tea and had a snack. I was aware of your eyes upon me the whole time. Although conflicted, I did feel attractive and enjoyed the attention. I even looked at my legs myself a few times. They looked damned good. I felt sexy.

You tossed a crossword magazine at me and I reluctantly started one, relieved when you didn’t move closer to me. Another hour slipped by. It was time to check on your father. He was awake.

“Lie beside me for a few minutes,” Don asked.

As soon as I complied he began touching me, gently, but in a definite sexual manner. I guess thinking about me walking around the house in sexy panties excited him. I glanced at his groin, expecting to see an erection this time but there was still nothing. Saddened, I tolerated his caress and even let his hand slide up my skirt to cup my sex. His touch was more patient, more considerate than when he was hard and eager to get into me. I spread my legs to facilitate his gentle massage and waited for the inevitable penetration, kissed his cheek, and nuzzled his neck. He massaged the skimpy panties until they were damp.

“Okay, I’m tired now.”


“I want to go to sleep. Do you mind?”

“Uh, no. I guess not.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Downstairs, you were already leaning back on the couch, dressed in your pajamas. I sat at the far end and watched the TV without really seeing. After a few minutes, I turned and you stretched out your hand. I laid my head on your chest and settled my torso between your legs. You started rubbing my back through the white blouse. After a while, I noticed you were hard again. Very hard, unlike your father. I shifted my head and sighed, but didn’t ‘wake’ up. I liked the feel of your hardness against me and wanted to enjoy it for a while. You were so big under your pajamas and I knew it was because of me so I wanted to dream a bit. What harm could it do?

Your hands stroked my hair and rubbed down my back. They slid onto my skirt and I held my breath. Your hands cupped my buttocks, measuring their shape and firmness, as well as possible through the thickly pleated material.

I shivered and your hands returned to my back, scraping the white blouse out of the waistband of the skirt. I lost track of time as your hands caressed my back and hair, and returned to my skirt, again and again. I lost myself in the pleasure of it.

How long was it, I wondered, before the blouse had been worked up to my shoulder blades, baring my waist and the sides of my breasts? Your hands were on my bare skin again but my back still felt covered. It wasn’t until your hands moved down to my skirt that I realized it wasn’t covering my buttocks anymore but had been flipped up to warm my back. My ass was exposed except for the skimpy panties and your hands were rubbing my bare flesh!

I was shocked by your brazenness. I should have done something but I didn’t want a confrontation. It was nothing, I thought. You were just copping a feel. You had been stuck in this house with me and your father for months with no outlet for your own stress. What did it matter if you rubbed my ass and pressed your cock against my tummy? Or that I liked it but that thought was fleeting and quickly banished.

Your cock felt enormous. My mind turned to it and that’s when you slid your right hand off the crest of my left buttock, grasped the narrow back of my panties, and pulled, dragging them deep into and through my crack until the larger part below pulled up tightly against my pussy. You repeated this several times until I was reminded of the way you pressed the flesh on the inside of my thigh, tugging my pussy lips apart. How similar your method, and how effective.

I told myself to ‘wake’ up but put it off several times. No, that’s a lie. I dismissed the idea a dozen times. The pressure made my pussy feel like it was slowly cooking, each tug pulling it up against the warmth of your balls. I told myself again to ‘wake’ up but wished instead you would grab my tit. Didn’t you know it was free and open for the taking?

I moaned softly into your shoulder, unintentionally. The skirt was flipped down and your hands scraped hard from my shoulders to my hips, pushing the blouse down. A moment later I lifted my shoulders and looked sleepily into your eyes.

“I guess I fell asleep.”


“I should go to bed.”


I was saddened by the disappointment in your voice. Again, I asked myself, what did it matter if you copped a little feel? As I walked away from you, blouse untucked, I resolved to be more sensitive to your needs. You were going through a tough time too. I let my hips sway.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next day Don asked me to lie beside him, naked this time.

“Can I put the oil on your legs?”

I nodded, knowing he wasn’t really asking.

He spread the oil on my legs, trailing his fingers so lightly over my skin I became aroused. His hand strayed onto my hips and then to my breasts, spreading the oil there too. My nipples were so hard I ridiculously imagined I could accidentally poke his eyes out. I giggled.

“Feel good?” Don asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You look good in oil,” he laughed. “Any man would love to touch your skin.”

“I don’t want any man to touch me,” I replied.

His hand cupped my sex, and squeezed.

“You deserve to be touched.”

“But not by anyone else,” I murmured

“No strangers,” Don agreed. “Did you have wine for dinner?” he asked, changing the subject.


“I thought so.”

“Did you?” I queried, playfully.

He changed the subject again. “I love your tits.”

Don never talked like this.

“Oh yeah. My old woman’s tits?”

He ignored the comment. “Don’t wear anything to hide them.”

“Okay baby.”

Don pushed me away.

“I’m tired.”

I put on a loose t-shirt and short skirt and presented myself for his approval. He nodded and waved his hand. I left, turning around at the door to blow him a kiss, and turned out the light. He had already turned onto his side.

I joined you downstairs and was pleased to see you had already changed into your pajamas. There was pot of tea and a cup on the table but I ignored it.

“Whew,” I sighed. “I’m bushed.”

You held out your arms and I nestled between them, fitting my belly to yours and my head on your shoulder, arranging myself higher than before so my skirt would be easier for you to reach. Soon, I began breathing regularly so you would think I had drifted off. It wasn’t long before I felt your hands on my skirt. You pulled it up and cupped my buttocks, staying still for several minutes before grasping the back of my panties. The tugging began, forcing the strip of panties deep between my cheeks and pressing the gusset onto my pussy.

Your cock was already hard and I felt its tip press against my bare belly when it stiffened enough to poke out the waistband of your pajamas. My t-shirt had been pulled up to expose my tummy without me even noticing. Brazenly, you pulled it higher to bare my breasts. They flopped out but you didn’t grab them. Instead your hands returned to my ass.

“Jesus,” you murmured.

You rubbed my cheeks and I realized the same time as you that Don had spread oil all over my ass.

“Jesus,” you muttered again, then pulled the panties out of my crack.

Your fingers reached farther, between my cheeks, and spread them apart, spreading my pussy lips too. Your fingers stretched lower, between my legs, and pressed on my lower lips, found my slit and rubbed your fingertip through it. Oh, God. I shuddered.

My hand rose automatically and before I knew it, had slipped between us to mold your cock. The tip of your finger flicked, back and forth, digging through my slit and I heard as well as felt how wet it was. I was in heaven. My mind screamed that this was too much, way beyond copping a feel, but I didn’t care. The touch of your flicking fingertip was exquisite. I moaned into your chest but this time you didn’t read it as a sign that I was ‘waking’ up. Instead, you pressed your cock harder into my belly and pushed your finger in deeper.

I pressed down upon your rising hardness but then quickly twisted my pelvis upward, impaling myself even deeper upon you probing finger, and moaned again. Another press of your cock and then up to greet the entrance of your extended digit through my inner hole. I groaned and my fingers curled around your shaft.

Your finger pressed deeper until your knuckles pushed against my ass, blocking further penetration. I tightened my muscles upon it and dragged, squeezing at the same time so it wouldn’t fall out.

My fingers lifted your cock off your belly and stroked it. Up and down, just enough to pull the skin over the head, back and forth, squeezing, like my cunt was doing on your finger. It was your turn to groan.

I felt fluid on my hand, exuding from your tip. Ahhh, sweet youth. So soon, so soon. I dipped my head, an involuntary reaction, and stopped, but then pressed lower, just far enough for my mouth to close over the tip. I stopped then, aware of what I was doing, the head of your cock lodged in my mouth, unable to continue but incapable of pulling away.

Your hand found my hair and closed, grasping it tightly, while the other dug two fingers into my cunt, lifting forcefully enough to almost slide my mouth off your cock but I resisted that too. You didn’t press my head down but held it while your hips flexed, pushing your cock deeper into my mouth, drew back, and fucked into it again.


It went on and on, your cock pushing ever so little into my mouth and then withdrawing, only to return again and again, your fingers keeping time sliding in and out of my pussy. Though not really sucking your cock I was letting you fuck my mouth. I couldn’t stop now, it would be too unfair. I had to finish you and never allow it to happen again. We wouldn’t speak of it. We would pretend it never happened.

I moved my head, pushing down to take more of you into my mouth, trying to finish you sooner. You groaned and pushed more of your cock inside me. I churned my ass against your hand, thinking it would excite you and make you come sooner. It worked. You moved faster and faster and before I knew it my throat was flooded with your cum.

You were so considerate. After pulling your cock gently out of my mouth and stuffing it back into your pajamas, you pushed my skirt down to cover my ass and dragged my t-shirt down too.

Then you whispered, “Mom, Mom. Wake up.”

I groggily lifted my head, playing along with the ridiculous pretense you had enabled.


“You fell asleep. Maybe you should go to bed.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks honey.”

I went upstairs, unsteady on my feet, wondering how things had progressed, or deteriorated, so rapidly. I stopped at the top of the stairs to steady myself, holding on to the banister, and suddenly stared at the small Danish table in the alcove and its delicate matching antique chair. It was set about a foot away from the wall where it was normally placed. That was odd. I put it back against the wall, then carried on to my bed and slipped in next to Don. I was tired, so very, very tired.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

I watched you closely the next day for signs you didn’t believe my sleeping act but detected none. As always, especially since Don became sick, you didn’t encroach upon my personal space unless I first approached you for a hug or kiss, and then you responded platonically. I was relieved but also disappointed.

Don had a good day and didn’t complain about being forced out of bed for a walk around the bedroom. The day passed normally, including the pitch after dinner for me to change in front of him with a visit to our bed to lie beside him. This time he wanted me naked.

I was uncomfortable because I had forgotten to close our door but Don wouldn’t let me get up to shut it. He turned on his side and ran the fingers of his right hand up and down my torso, arms, and legs for ages before teasing my nipples and then my pussy. By that time, I was ready for it, very ready. Don kissed and nuzzled my neck and whispered sexy things in my ear. I was extremely horny when he started to oil my legs. He started at my ankles and took a long time to get above my knees.

“Spread your legs,” he said, which I did without opening my eyes.

He stroked and caressed my legs as he rubbed the oil in. I raised my knees so he could do the underneath where I liked to be touched but he spent more time in the hollow between my pussy and upper thighs which was even better. When he was done, he spread oil on my stomach, circling my navel many times before proceeding to my breasts.

“Turn over,” he finally rasped.

I opened my eyes, surprised by the huskiness of his voice, but there was nothing in his groin to match its timbre. I twisted onto my tummy and opened my legs a bit to give him better access to my thighs. They had already been done but wouldn’t mind extra attention. Instead, Don’s oily hand landed directly on my right buttock and immediately began exploring its shape. I was surprised because he had never shown much interest in my ass.

Don’s hand rubbed and rubbed my buttocks up and down for quite a while before changing to a side to side motion that alternately pinched my cheeks together and pulled them apart. He worked from the top of my crack to the bottom where the motion transferred to my pussy, reminding me of your teasing presses on the inside of my thigh. I wondered if you were waiting for me downstairs and whether Don realized how ready he was making me for you.

I liked having my ass played with which must have been apparent when I lifted my hips to push it harder against Don’s hand. When I started audibly sighing he surprised me with a slap on my buns.

“There you go. I’m done.”

I felt him turn onto his back but stayed where I was, searching for his hand with mine.

“Away you go. I’m tired now.”

I got up on my elbows and looked at him in disbelief but his eyes were closed. I released a long exasperated, disappointed sigh but got up when it failed to produce a response. I put on a revealing nightie with and covered myself with a form-fitting satin robe but Don didn’t open his eyes to watch. I turned out the light and walked quietly to the door.

You looked up when I was half way down the stairs and smiled. I slowed my pace to descend with a more elegant gait and went directly to the couch. You moved to the middle to make room and I sat down, thanking you for the crossword magazine you handed to me and which I immediately opened.

It was sham. Could I be more obvious? I was so horny I had difficulty keeping my breathing even. Somehow — gosh, I don’t how — my robe gaped open to reveal the depth of the neckline on the shimmery green nightie. The inside of my breasts were exposed and the gap in the nightie, which reached all the way down to a decorative knot at my waist, even showed the curve of my breasts as they swept away from my torso. I may as well have hung a sign asking you to stare at my tits!

However, you played the game well, pretending to watch me fill out the crossword, which I had difficulty doing until you suggested the answers. I dutifully wrote each one in but didn’t come up with a single one myself.

I dropped my hands, with the magazine, onto my lap. The robe parted and fell off my thighs. I realized it had fallen to the sides of my breasts too, leaving only the flimsy nightie to do a poor job of covering me, so I lifted the magazine and started penciling in a word. It was wrong but I wrote it in anyway. You suggested a word for a downward cross and laid your right hand on my bare thigh. I wrote it in.

We completed that puzzle and then another, and another. Your fingers applied pressure and released, again and again, pulling my pussy apart and then allowing it to close. To my horror, I thought I heard my wetness but didn’t try to stop your probing fingers. When the magazine began to shake in my trembling hands you asked me if I wanted to rest for a while.

“Yes, I need to close my eyes for a few minutes.”

You leaned back and I turned to follow you without waiting for your hands to pull me along. Your legs opened and I fit myself between them, snuggling up to your chest just as I fell out of the skimpy nightie. My nipples pressed onto the flannel of your pajamas and I sighed into your shoulder as my belly felt the press of your big hardon.

“I might fall asleep,” I whispered.

“That’s okay, Mom.”

You patted my back and started to platonically rub my shoulders. I sighed and snuggled closer, curling my arms up to put them around your neck. Barely three minutes passed before your hands dipped to feel the sides of my breasts. I offered no reaction and was pleased when they returned again and again.

Your hands began dipping lower and lower, past the small of my back and onto my ass, rubbing my buttocks and slowly working the robe and nightie up until my cheeks were bare. I smiled to myself and snuggled closer. You piled my clothes high on my shoulder, leaving me naked from there down to my toes. Long strokes ensued as far down as you could reach. God, it felt great!

Your fingers plied my crack, slippery from Don’s oily hands, and spread my cheeks apart, then dipped deep to slide the pad of your longest finger along its length, pressing slightly harder when passing over my forbidden hole. I lifted my hips, demonstrating an involuntary appreciation for your touch. You groaned and I felt your free hand working the waistband of your pajamas bottoms over your hips. I lifted my weight to make it easier, not caring that it would betray my wakeful state, and gasped when I felt its heat on my belly. I hadn’t realized the nightie had been pulled up to bare my front too.

We moved together after that, your hands on my ass urging me closer, and me pressing up against you. Though muted, our movements mimicked fucking and I worked the muscles in my abdomen, undulating to massage your cock. I knew from your breathing you would come soon and prepared to lower my head, quickly, to cover you with my mouth.

Suddenly, I felt an urge to feel your shaft sliding through my lips. I pressed my hands against the inside of the couch’s arm and pushed myself lower, turning my head down and opening my mouth. One of your hands had left my ass and grabbed your cock, lifting and steering it through my eager lips. We both groaned as it pushed forcefully to my tonsils. I started to pull my head up but your other hand pressed down on my hair.

That was okay. I groaned again and you pulled back, then shoved back into my mouth. I kept still but your hand remained on top of my head, unnecessarily because I was keen to let you fuck my face. Don had made me so fucking horny and you were receiving the benefit. I slipped my hand between us and searched for your balls, gently squeezing them as soon as they were discovered. The hand on your cock left and reached for my ass but it was out of reach so it sought my tits and found them. You squeezed too hard but I didn’t care. I started sucking hard as soon as you pinched my nipple. Your hips flexed faster and faster and your hand pushed my head down more firmly. The squelching sound of your cock moving in and out of my drooling mouth was clearly audible, even over our rasping breath.

Then you groaned loudly and your hips bucked up hard, and held, your legs trembling, my head shaking, as you unloaded your sperm in my mouth. A small blast was followed by a larger one and then a huge one followed by another big one, then two smaller ones. Your weapon fell silent then, except for two tiny eruptions coincident with a couple of jerking reactions as my tongue and lips cleaned your tip and shaft. Your hand fell away to let my head move, clearly belying any notion that I was sleeping.

We were still for quite a while afterward. Almost. You didn’t make any attempt to rearrange my clothes nor did I try to cover my nakedness but your cock remained in my mouth, softening, until I occasionally tightened my lips to suck it. Your fingers played over my shoulders and upper back, periodically rising to massage my neck and play with my hair, especially when my lips closed tightly around your cock.

I knew there was no sense feigning sleep this time. You had fondled my ass and fucked my mouth, and I continued to suck you now. As your cock hardened in my mouth, beginning to regain its former glory, I realized I had to stop. I pulled my mouth off and stirred.

“Mom, you fell asleep,” you mumbled.

I rose up and my tits spilled completely out of the nightie.

“Really?” I asked.

You were too distracted to meet my eyes.

“Really?” I repeated, lowering my breasts toward your face.

Your eyes shifted upward but my tits mashed into your face and they glazed as you tried to focus on my nipples. I maneuvered one of them into your mouth. My nipple felt so hard I thought it would burst. I was so horny.


You sucked it hard and I grabbed the back of your head, my fingers closing in your hair, and pulled upward.


I steered your mouth from one nipple to the other, pressing my flesh onto your face, and didn’t mind when your hands cupped my ass again, or when your fingers dragged up and down between my cheeks. You spread them and rubbed their tips across my anus and down to dip into my pussy, eventually pushing your fingers into my cunt. I groaned and pushed my tits harder on your face. It was my turn.

“Finger me,” I groaned, not realizing I had said it out loud until you pushed several in deep.

“Finger me,” I demanded, knowing I was begging and didn’t care.

I had been so horny for so long the thickness of your fingers plying my inner walls drove me crazy. My hips twisted and bucked trying to get more, to get you in as deep as possible, to splay me wide. Oh, God, I wanted your whole hand inside me and squiggled around trying, and succeeding, to get most of your fingers inside. Your hand pushed upward hard enough to force my hips up and your mouth covered my pussy.

Oh, God! Oh, my fucking God!

You munched and licked and sucked and the whole time your fingers were working inside me. I heard my wetness slopping onto your hand but the squelching sound merely led me to thrust onto your mouth. A hand on my shoulder pulled me down and your mouth pulled away and turned up. You wanted to kiss me. Your upper lip glistened with my juice but I didn’t care. I wanted to taste you.

I moaned as I lowered myself to meet your lips and gasped but didn’t know until it was too late that your cock had replaced your mouth. I was filled with something thicker and more solid, probing deep, really deep, and I knew it couldn’t be fingers. At first I thought you had shoved your hand into me but then both my buttocks were grabbed and squeezed.

The truth sunk into my mind slowly. I tried to pull off. I didn’t really want to, that is, my body didn’t want to, but it was wrong to have your cock inside me. Somehow, sucking it was okay but fucking it wasn’t. I pulled my hips up high but yours followed. We paused like that, me hovering over you with an inch or so of you still inside. I could have gone higher, could have broken the connection, but I didn’t. I groaned, and slowly sunk onto your shaft, gobbling your cock with my hungry cunt until my lips caressed your root. I sat on you, impaled, grinding, and whispered in your ear.

“Fuck me.”

You didn’t move.

“Fuck me,” I repeated.

Still no response.

“Please,” I pleaded.

Your cock twitched, and then rose, pushing me up, abruptly dropped, sliding that gorgeous feeling out of me, them rammed back up, hard.

“Oh yeah, fuck me, Donny. Fuck me!”

You did. You banged up hard, furiously, then slowed, doing me softly, then hard and slow, soft and slow, soft and fast, everything, bless you, you did everything. You fucked me for a long time, way longer than I expected, and I was glad I had made you come. You were so thick and hard, long and hard, and so alive!

I drenched you with my fluid, nearly broke you with my frantic twisting, wrenching your cock this way and that. I couldn’t get enough of it but inevitably it ended and I fell upon your chest, exhausted, gasping for breath. A long time later, when we were both breathing more normally, I pushed myself up and off you.

“I guess I fell asleep.”

We both laughed. I pulled my nightie down to cover my breasts, stood, and wrapped the robe around myself. When you sat up I said goodnight and turned away.

“Wait,” you cried, but I didn’t.

I couldn’t face you. I quickened my pace and hurried up the stairs when I heard you following but slowed when I neared the top and the antique Danish table and chair came into view. The chair was in place, nestling against the wall, but a short, squat glass sat on the doily near the vase. It hadn’t been there before. I knew it hadn’t. I would have seen it. Your hands grasped my hips.

“Mom. Wait,” you whispered.

Your hands slid over my hips, molding my ass. I moved forward, topping the stairs and stopped. You closed the gap and your hands cupped my buttocks.

“Let me kiss you goodnight.”

I turned and yielded, letting your hands to fold me into your arms, lifted my face to meet your lips, and welcomed your tongue inside my mouth for the first time. My hands stretched behind my back, fingers searching, until the glass was in my grasp. You circled my waist with one arm but I kept the glass out of the way. The other pushed into my hair and held my mouth to yours. You were seeking more than a simple kiss and I gave it to you until my lips felt bruised and chewed up.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, when your face lifted from mine.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered.

I backed away, my bare feet slowly leading me unerringly to my bedroom door. I smiled and blew you a kiss as I backed into my room, the glass hidden behind me. I pushed the door shut, closing it with a quiet click, then turned to look at the bed.

Don was quietly snoring, the picture of innocence, but I knew he had been there, sitting at the top of the stairs. I raised the glass and sniffed…scotch, his favorite drink. He had sat at the top of the stairs, watching his wife and son fuck, while savoring a single malt scotch.

Now the hour of teasing caresses took on a new meaning. He wasn’t torturing himself by forcing himself into a situation he couldn’t handle. He had deliberately prepared me to be easy prey for his son!

I stared at the bed, unsure of whether I wanted to get into bed with this man I thought I knew so well but obviously didn’t. What possessed him to do such a thing?

The answer came an hour later as I lay beside him, still awake. Hadn’t I teased my son right next to him night after night, believing he was unaware? I was such a fool. Had that led to the notion that his son could take over for him instead of a strange man? He had probably concocted his scheme at the depth of his illness and put it into motion despite getting better. Did the idea have such a strong appeal to him by then? How perverse.

It angered me until I realized how unselfish it was to satisfy my needs and give such a generous gift to his son at the same time. Then I wondered if it was because he didn’t believe in his own recovery, that he might know something I didn’t, and I became afraid. No, he was definitely getting better.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Don was a good man. I had blamed him, wrongly, of having an affair and felt ashamed. I loved him. I snuggled close to him. If he wanted me to be with our son then that’s the way it would be. After all, it was my fault. I had started it.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

The next morning I awoke with Don’s fingers trailing over my body. My breasts were taut, nipples hard, and my legs spread. I was horny and felt warm all over.

“Hey sleepyhead. It’s about time.”

I stretched.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know but you have a hungry son downstairs waiting for his breakfast.”

“He can make breakfast himself.”

“He can, but it’s better if his mother does it for him.”

Don kissed my left nipple and strummed his fingers over my mound.

“He can wait.”

“I told him you’d make pancakes.”

Don withdrew his hand.

“Okay. I’ll make pancakes.”

I put on a full length, white nightgown. Nothing sexy but with nothing on underneath my body’s aroused state couldn’t be hidden. I blew Don a kiss and went downstairs to look after you.

Your eyes lit up when you saw me and that heightened the state of my arousal. You didn’t try to hide your obvious pleasure.

I was feeling dejected. The latest girl I had asked to the Sweetheart Dance, had rejected me out of hand. At twenty-two, I wasn’t a bad looking guy it’s just that the local Monterey women had plenty of men stationed at Fort Ord from which to choose.

When a guy felt as low as I did, he sought comfort from the one place he knew he’d always get it, his mother. I was no different. I sat at the desk in my room at the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters and placed a video-call home on my computer. It was after 10 PM back in Indianapolis. It was getting near her bedtime, but I suspected that she was still up watching the news.

In the blink of an eye, my mother’s image appeared on my computer screen. Unsurprisingly, she was wearing a purple negligee that covered, but did not conceal her huge breasts. Mother had always been something of an exhibitionist, wearing the skimpiest of outfits around the house. As a result, I spent most of my adolescence sporting a semi-permanent erection. Even now, my cock hardened at the sight of her cantaloupe-sized breasts each capped with a dusky areola and a stiff nipple.

Mother’s eyes sparkled as she squealed, “Ricky, how’s my baby boy?”

I chuckled. I was a grown man that had flown helicopters in combat for United States Army, but my mother still called me, her baby boy. I said, “Not so good, Mom. I bought tickets for the Sweetheart Dance and now I can’t find a date.”

“I’m sorry Baby-boy. Why did you buy tickets before you had a date?” Mother pushed a strand of shoulder length black hair out of her face.

Sighing I said, “The dance is at the City Aquarium down on Cannery Row so there are just so many seats available. If you don’t buy the tickets early you don’t get them, now I’m stuck with them.”

“No way to get rid of them?”

“Not really, the dance is Saturday.”

Mother pursed her lips. “That’s too bad. All those soldiers in their dress uniforms will be so romantic. You’d think those young ladies would jump all over that.”

Chuckling again, I said, “You’d think, but I really don’t know that many girls out here. I just got back from Afghanistan a few weeks ago.”

“I know. I was worried to death while you were deployed. But even in the States you’re so far from home. I miss you so much Baby-boy. I wish I could be your date.”

I perked up with a wide grin. I declared, “That’s it! You can be my date.”

Mother’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“You can be my date, Mom. It’s the perfect solution. I know you already have a couple of formal gowns. You just fly out on Friday and I’ll book you a room at the Cannery Row Hotel. We’ go to the dance on Saturday and you can fly back Sunday.”

Mother chewed her lip again, I thought it made her look sexy. “Won’t you be embarrassed to take your mother to the dance?” She frowned and added, “I’m so old.”

“You’re not old, Mom. You just turned forty last month, besides you don’t look a day over thirty. Everybody will think you’re a cougar.”

“What’s a cougar?”

“A cougar is an older woman who goes after younger guys. Believe me Mom, you are one hot cougar. Please be my date.”

She said, “I’d like too, but I don’t know if Norman has anything planned for Valentine’s Day.”

“Fuck Norman,” I spat. Norman was my stepfather. He had married Mom ten years ago. I had never cared for him and he simply tolerated me in return.

“Baby-boy, don’t be like that, Norman’s my husband and I love him.”

“He might be your husband, but he’s never been my father,” I seethed.

I didn’t like sharing my mother with Norman nor had I ever. My mother had gotten pregnant with me her senior year in high school and hadn’t married my father. After I was born, Mother had worked for a short-while as a stripper. I supposed, her 38DD-28-39 figure on her five-foot three-inch frame was very popular. Following her stint as an exotic dancer, she lived with a couple of different men who sexually exploited her. When I was twelve, she was waitressing at a sports bar where her tight ass and huge boobs kept her in hefty tips. It was where she finally met Norman, a few months later she married him, she was Norman’s second wife.

Mother’s attention was diverted by another presence in the bedroom. She spoke to the interloper, “Norman, we were just talking about you.”

My stepfather remained out of my sightline. He said, “Who’s we?”

“Ricky, he’s on the computer. He wants me to fly out to California this weekend. Can I?”

“Kind of late notice, don’t you think?” growled Norman, “Airline tickets will be expensive.”

I grumbled, “I’ll buy your plane tickets.”

Ignoring me, Mother said, “It’s for a special occasion, the Sweetheart Dance on Valentine’s Day. Ricky wants me to be his date.”

“Can’t find his own girl, so he wants to borrow mine huh?” Norman chuckled, “I tell you what Shelia, you go, but I’ll need to give you your Valentine’s present early.”

Mother’s face broke into a naughty grin, “How early?”

“Right now, I just took a little blue pill,” Norman’s said with lust. Suddenly, he appeared in the picture frame. His bulky frame knelt down beside Mother’s chair. He swiveled it in his direction.

“I’ve got to go, Ricky. I’ll call you later,” Mother babbled, trying to close her laptop.

Unbeknownst to Mother, she had failed to completely close her laptop so now the web-camera was pointing directly at her crotch. I should have closed my own laptop, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away as Mother slowly dragged the hem of her nightie up her thighs revealing her pussy to Norman and covertly to me.

Conflicting emotions stuck in my throat. My cock throbbed with lust as my mother spread her legs wide, revealing a thin strip of pubic hair on her mound and her cleanly shaven labia. At the same time, my stomach churned with jealousy as my stepfather lowered his bald head to my mother’s splayed cunt. Quickly, I silenced the computer’s microphone and loudly cleared my throat of the bitter pile as I watched my screen.

Norman was fifty and a nice enough guy who treated my mother well, a podiatrist by trade. He kissed mother’s knee then ran his tongue up her inner thigh. After kissing her hairless labia, he pierced her pussy with his tongue. As he lapped at her cunt, he worked two fingers inside her. He wiggled his fingers in a come-hither motion, if the vigor of her moans was any indication mother must have really enjoyed it.

Intrigued with Norman’s oral aptitude, I pulled my hard cock from my shorts and watched his tongue dart skillfully around my mother’s snatch. I bit my lip as his tongue continued to torment her pussy, she groaned her gratification. My cock was so engorged with blood I thought I was going to pass out. I could hear my pulse in my ears and actually feel it pounding in my cock. My mouth was dry and I was panting. I grasped my cock and began stroking it.

Slithering his tongue into Mother’s gushing gash, Norman explored the depths of it. With the tip of his tongue, he teased her clit and probed her drenched interior with his finger. The wet swooshing sound of my stepfather’s digit machine-gunning in and out of my mother pussy reverberated from my computer’s speakers.

Mother moaned and whimpered her sensuous delight. She pulled on her nipples with wicked endeavor. Her soft voice murmured, “I’m going…going…to…to cum.”

Norman’s tongue assaulted my mother’s anus. He darted it in and out and swirling it around as she hissed and hooted. Satisfied that she was on the verge of orgasm, my stepfather trailed his tongue through my mother’s labia then he lightly bit her clit and shoved a wet finger up her ass.

“My pussy, my pussy,” Mother hollered, banging her fist on the desk as her climax was achieved. She recovered and said with a hoarse voice, “That was a fabulous cum.”

Norman was slowly stroking his hard cock, it was about the size of a kosher pickle. With a tremor in his voice, he said, “I’m going to butt-fuck you now, Babe.”

“I love getting butt-fucked by you,” Mother said coyly as she watched Norman fondle himself. “I have the most intense orgasms when you butt-fuck me.”

Mother brushed the computer on the desk as she stood up, once again changing the angle of the web camera. She had barely gotten her shaky legs underneath her when Norman spun her around and pushed her over the back of the chair.

“Shelia, you have a beautiful ass.” He slid his foot between hers then he pushed hers apart.

Grabbing the arms of the chair, Mother held onto them with white knuckles. Watching from my vantage point, I saw as her eyes widen when he penetrated her cunt with his stubby cock. She braced herself against the chair and closed her eyes as Norman pounded her pussy with his little pecker. She whimpered, “oh,oh,oh.”

Wet flesh on flesh smacks rose above Mother’s moans of pleasure. A sheen of sweat glistened on Norman’s bald head. He gripped Mother’s hips like a drowning man clings to flotsam. His big hairy belly seemed to rest on her bare backside and jiggled like jello with his thrusts. He puffed, “It’s like fucking melted butter. This feels so good!”

Abruptly, Norman pulled his cock from Mother’s pussy. She protested, “Please don’t stop.”

With a laugh Norman pushed her back down as she started to rise up. He slapped her bare ass with his open palm. The sound of the smack echoed in the computer speakers. He commanded, “Be still, Shelia.”

Mother froze when she felt the head of his stiff cock tap her butthole. Her husband’s cock wasn’t big, but it was as solid as granite. Even though his cock and her butt were well lubricated, it took her breath away as he inched his shaft into her. She growled, “Gaw! You’re so hard.”

“Relax Babe,” Norman said as he paused to allow Mother to catch her breath after he had fully invested his cock into her ass. He slowly withdrew his cock and the camera captured Mother’s mouth twisted into a perfect round “O.” He practically pulled all the way out of her. With a groan, he inched himself back into her and she clinched her teeth together in an amorous grimace also caught by the camera.

“Ahh…your cock…feels…feels so good,” Mother panted. Her face was contorted in an erotic expression of pained pleasure. Her breasts hung from her chest like ripe grapefruit and swayed under the transparent nightie with each thrust of Norman’s cock. Her nipples looked hard enough to etch her name on the computer screen and my stepfather wickedly pinched them until she yelped a protest.

His passion inflamed, Norman began to thrust his cock into her ass like it was rocket blasting from earth. A high pitched squeal of delight escaped Mother’s lips as her husband drilled her ass. He responded with primordial guttural rumblings from the back of his throat.

“Fuck…fuck my…my ass,” she wailed.

It was more than Norman could stand. His face and bald head had reddened with exertion. Rivulets of sweat ran down his fat face. With a final thrust he buried himself into Mother’s ass and panted, “I’m cumming.”

Once he recovered Norman kept his still hard cock deep inside Mother’s ass. He jammed a couple of fingers into her gaping gash. Then he pressed his palm against her hyper-aroused clit.

Mother’s eyes rolled back in her head as the dam of orgasm was breached. Ejaculate spewed from her cunt and splattered with a whoosh on the floor. She howled her happiness, “Uh, woo!”

I pushed a key on my computer to turn the web-camera off. With imagine of my mother’s face pleasantly contorted in orgasmic rapture burned into my mind, I stroked my cock with vigor until a frothy outburst of cum spewed forth. A psychedelic haze of white and red flashed behind my shut eyes. A growl of ecstasy surged from my core, “Ahh!”

My plans blew-up as fast as I made them. My mother was able to fly from Indianapolis on Friday, but only as far as L.A., she had to wait until Saturday morning to catch a shuttle flight to Monterey. I ended up on duty Friday anyway and wasn’t relieved until noon. I was a horny wreck by then. I couldn’t get the image of my mother’s blissful orgasmic face out of my mind.

When I arrived at the hotel, I found Mom by the pool on a chaise lounge sporting blue bikini. I paused to gape at her lovely figure. My cock immediately grew hard as I day-dreamed of what it would be like to fuck her. I feared I might have a stroke if the blood kept rushing from my brain to my cock.

Spotting me, she waved and called, “Over here, Baby-boy. “

“Hey,” I returned, opening the pool gate.

“Give me a hug,” she said opening her arms to receive my embrace. The bikini top created a deep cleavage between her two huge boobs.

I moved between her outstretched arms and gave her a bear hug. I felt her big breasts pressing against my chest. My cock hardened and I pulled her tighter knowing she could feel my hard-on against her pelvic. I lovingly patted her bottom as we broke the embrace, she cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry about your flight delay in L.A.” I offered.

“There’s no need to apologize, you weren’t flying the plane. I got a good night’s sleep at the hotel, so I’ll be well rested for tonight’s activity. Let’s go to my room and talk.”

She leaned over to pick up her towel. Blue material invaded the crack of her ass. Slipping her index fingers under the leg holes of her bikini beneath each buttock, she pressed the material out of her bottom in a very lady-like fashion. Looking over her shoulder, she caught me watching. She teased, “Enjoying the show?”

“You betcha,” I said nodding with a wide smile.

As we headed to the hotel, I followed behind my mother, so I could ogle her ass. In my mind, I willed the blue fabric of her bikini to creep back into the crack of her ass. I smiled as each step seemed to accomplish that very thing. Soon, I could see her white buttock peeking out from her bikini. I carried the garment bag with my dress uniform in such a way as to hide my hard-on as we entered the hotel lobby.

We had to wait for the elevator and I smiled at my mother in the mirrored doors. She smiled back at me. The blue bikini really brought out the blue in her eyes which cast a sultry simmer. Once again she manipulated her forefingers along the inside of her bikini to remove the material from the crack of her ass.

I noticed in the mirror that her maneuver had tightened the material across the front of her bikini and produced a tell-tale camel-toe. My cock grew hard as my lust-filled eyes drank in the contours of her outlined cunt. I wondered about the pleasurable delights hidden just beneath the bikini’s material. When Mother giggled, I realized I had been busted. I blushed and swallowed audibly.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened and we entered it. Standing next to the control, Mother pushed the proper floor number. A comfortable silence filled the elevator. We were so familiar with each other we didn’t need to talk to communicate. The air was filled with sexual tension that was difficult to give voice to anyway.

With a quiver in her voice, Mother said, “I have really been looking forward to this weekend.”

Unable to control myself any longer, I pulled my mother into a tight embrace and kissed her fully on the lips. Instinctively, her lips parted and my tongue penetrated her mouth. For a moment, it gleefully frolicked then entwined with hers. My erection strained against her pubic bone and she lustily ground her pelvis against my hard-on, confirming she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

The doors to the elevator opened with a chime when it arrived at our floor. Mother pushed against my chest breaking our kiss and leaving my mouth burning with fire. Her eyes were wide with wonder and she seemed shocked at her own eager response. She panted with a hushed tone, “We need to go.”

Nodding, I followed her down the hall to her room. Peeking down at her posterior, I was pleased to find that her bikini had ridden up her ass again, revealing the undulating curves of her buttocks. I loved to watch the rise and fall of each buttock and the sideways sway of her hips. More blue material inched into her crack. I couldn’t believe I could get so hard just by watching my mother walk.

Mother stopped at her room’s door and handed me her key-card, but before I could slide it into the keypad she kissed me. Her tongue invaded my mouth and wrestled with mine for a moment. As I tried to pull her into an embrace, she broke our kiss and pushed me back to arm’s length. Her blue eyes flared with mixed emotions as she said, “I know you want me, Baby-boy and believe me I want you too. But, we’re playing with fire, if we aren’t real careful we’ll both get burned and scarred. Promise me that when we go into the room that nothing will happen.”

I moved to kiss her again, but she turned her head avoiding it.

“Ricky, I mean it.”

I sighed, “I promise.”

Once in the room, Mother crossed to the sliding door of the balcony and opened it. She stepped outside and looked out over the Pacific. Turning to me, she said, “Isn’t it breathing taking.”

“You are and the ocean view is nice too,” I teased. Joining Mother on the balcony, I started to move beside her, but she stopped me with upturned hand like a traffic cop.

“Just stay there and I’ll stay here. We need to talk about some things.”


“I know you watched me and Norman the other night,” said Mother looking at me. Although, I remained silent, I knew my blush confirmed what she already knew. She continued, “I’m very confused at the moment. Not only about what you watching me having sex, but that I actually wanted you to watch. Knowing you were watching helped me have the most awesome orgasm. What kind of deviant am I?”

“You’re not a deviant and you look beautiful when you cum, by the way. Maybe, I’m the pervert. I’ve wanted have sex with you for so long and I’ve been so jealous of Norman. I hate him because he gets to have sex with you and I don’t. I guess it’s an Oedipus thing, but I do love you, Mother, with all my heart.”

“And, I love you. Unresolved Oedipus feelings might explain your lust, but it doesn’t explain mine. Why am I lusting after my own son?”

“Maybe, it’s because you just turned forty. Maybe, it’s that whole cougar thing. I don’t know. But, I’m glad you want me as bad as I want you. So what are we going to do about it?”

Mother stepped towards me and placed her hand on my cheek. She looked into my eyes to gauge my reaction. She said, “I propose that we make our love relationship a physical one, but only for this weekend. You must understand, it can never be repeated.”

“I understand,” I said nodding. Then I moved to embrace her, but she put her hand on my chest stopping me.

Shaking her head, she said, “Not so fast tiger. I want our first time to be beautiful and romantic, not a quickie like a couple of lust-filled animals pawing at each other just to get off.”

“Just looking at you in that bikini has already given me a case of blue balls,” I confessed.

Mother giggled and she took my hand. With a teasing tone she said, “Poor baby, we can’t have that, come with me.”

“Okay,” I choked. As if in a dream I took her hand and followed her back into the hotel room.

She reached behind her neck and untied the string that held the bikini top. Then she yanked the second tie from around her back and pulled the top off. She held the top between her fingers before letting it fall to the floor. Gleefully, she rubbed her just released breasts like a rider rubs down a horse after a hard ride. Her beauty took my breath away. She cupped her breasts. Using the thumb and forefinger of each hand she rolled her nipples between them until they looked hard enough to cut glass. She moaned.

Mother untied the string on each side of her bikini bottoms and they too fell to the floor. She backed up until her buttocks were pressed against the dresser. Then she hopped up on it, her bare breasts swayed from her exertion. She pulled up my knees until they were next to her breasts, spreading her legs wide and presenting me an open invitation. Her pussy lips pouted proudly with yearning and glistened with the promise of wet wonderful pleasure. The aromatic scent of her sex made my nostrils flare. Her voice was thick with lust, “Take your cock out, Ricky, show Mama.”

Before I begin, I’m going to start with my life is my life, and no one can judge me on how I live my life. I am 37 years young and a single mother for the last 15 years. My son just turned 18 and on his birthday is when everything happened. To describe myself, I am 5’5 strawberry blonde, green eyes, and I’m 38dd natural.

A few weeks ago, I had noticed that my son was on my computer a lot and he said that he was looking up things he wanted for his birthday. He already had a car so I wasn’t worried about something I would have to get a loan for. The only thing odd about it, was that every time I came near him while he was on the computer, he would quickly close whatever he was looking at, and a few times I saw his pants had a bulge. I just shook it off thinking he was looking at porn, after all boys will be boys. I did not however think that he had found a few pix of mine that I had taken for my now ex boyfriend (we broke things off about 2 months ago) and that’s what he was looking at.

A few days later I went to print up something and my printer didn’t have any paper in it. My son has a bad habit of not adding paper when he prints things so I went to his room to ask him next time to add paper. When I got to his room i noticed his door was partially opened and I could see him on his bed jacking off to something he had printed. I couldn’t help but notice how big he was and I could feel myself getting a little wet, so I turned around to let him finish while I went to start dinner and to try to keep myself from thinking about it. At dinner I brought up the paper and he said he had printed a report he had to do for school. I brushed it off thinking he would be embarrassed to say what he really printed out.

The next day I went in his room to see what he had printed. That’s when I realized that he had printed my nude pix and that’s what he was jacking off to. I got really wet thinking about it and realized that it was my pix he had been looking at on the computer. So since he had been looking at my pix, and already knew what my body looked like, and was apparently turned on by me, I decided to have a little fun with it.

That night after I took a shower, I wrapped my towel around me like normal, but where it would fall off easily. I walked into the kitchen to get a drink which is common for me to walk around in the house with just a towel on. I saw my son in the living room and called him in the kitchen to get my coffee cup down from the top shelf. I keep my coffee in the fridge since I’m not an avid coffee drinker and was watching his feet to see how he was standing. When they turned towards me I leaned in the fridge to make my towel fall off showing my bare ass and pussy. I heard him gasp and I acted surprise by the towel falling.

When grabbing the towel I made sure to stand up completely while “fighting” with the towel to cover back up so he could see my breasts and that my nipples were hard. His face was red and I did a nervous laugh and said that I was sorry. He told me it was ok and I could tell he was replaying it over and over in his mind. I started a pot of coffee and went to my room to put on my night gown. Its light blue and a little see thru since its so thin. I made sure not to wear any panties so he could get another look and I could tell for sure or not if he was really interested in me.

I sat on the couch with him at an angle and sat down where my nighty came up enough to show my pussy. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed he was staring at my pussy and starting to get hard. I sat there and let him take in the view. I asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee and he said no. So I went into the kitchen and dumped out the coffee since I really didn’t want any. I came back into the living room and told him it was too strong so I dumped it and was going to bed.

I leaned down to give him a good night hug but at a distance where you could see my breasts in the nighty thru the neck. I saw him steal a look and I smiled as I hugged him since right then and there I knew he wanted me. The next morning I woke him up still wearing my nighty and told him that since it was his birthday, he didn’t have to go to school. He got so excited since he had a test to take and now he got out of taking it.

When he came into the kitchen I was bent over getting a skillet out to cook breakfast and I know my ass and pussy was showing but I acted like I didn’t. while cooking breakfast I noticed he was watching me the whole time. I asked him what he wanted for his birthday and he said the new iphone. I told him after we eat I would go get it and he could relax at home.

After I was done eating, I went to my room and got dressed. When I came out, he was on the computer and I noticed his pants bulging again. I went to give him a hug and told him I would be back in a few hours with his phone, but had other shopping I had to do as well. As I walked out I pretended to lock the door behind me and stood there at the front door for a few minutes. I took my shoes off, then slowly opened the door. His back was to the door and I could see him jacking off to my nude pix. I slowly made my way inside and closed the door behind me.

I sat everything down and slowly took off my shirt and bra so he wouldn’t hear me. I walked up behind him as quietly as I could and said, “son let me take care of that for you”. He jumped in shock and tried to hide himself. I stopped him and told him if he was going to jack off to my pix, and get hard every time he saw a part of my body, then I should be in on it too. He looked at me confused and was stuttering trying to come up with something to say.

I grabbed his hands and placed them on both breasts and said it was just sex, calm down. I told him to sit back down and he did. I then took off my pants and since I wasn’t wearing panties I was completely naked in front of him. I got on my knees, firmly grabbed his cock, and gave him the best blowjob I could. I could tell he really liked since he came in my mouth fairly quickly. After I swallowed his load,

I looked up at him and said that I hope he wasn’t done. He said no and I smiled and took him to my room. I asked him if he ever ate out a pussy before and he said no but wanted to. I laid on my bed and told him that I wanted him to eat my pussy, and when he was ready, to slide his hard cock into my pussy.

He stood there in shock for a few then started smiling and said ok. I could tell he never ate out anyone before cuz he could have used a lot of work, but I had to make him think I was enjoying it so I moaned and caressed myself. I told him to finger my ass while he ate me out. He started to finger my ass then shortly afterwards said he wanted to get on top of me. I told him don’t say it, just do it. He got on top of me, then after a few minutes, he finally got his cock inside my pussy.

I could tell he was a virgin and I was changing that for him. After a few minutes I told him I wanted to be on top. He couldn’t keep a rhythm and it was keeping me from cumming. His cock was bigger than I had ever had before so I wanted to enjoy it while I could before he came again. As I slid down his cock I leaned over where my breasts were in his face. He wasted no time sucking on my hard nipples.

I slowly started to ride him and slowly built up speed as I felt myself getting ready to cum. Once I got close I sat up and screamed as I came all over his huge cock. I rapidly started riding him while I rubbed my clit hoping to cum again. He told me he was about to cum and I told him to cum inside my pussy since I was on the pill. I felt his cock getting bigger and started to hurt from stretching my pussy, then I felt his hot cum start filling my pussy. I never felt so much cum inside me before.

After he was done, I got off of him and licked his area clean, then sucked his cock clean. I smiled over at him just laying there with a huge smile on his face. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, all he had to do was say he wanted me, and he could have me, but to keep it our secret. His birthday was about 3 weeks ago, and the first time he told me he wanted me was about a week after his birthday. I told him I wished he wanted me more often. He told me he wanted me every day but didn’t have the courage.

After sex the second time, and yes I let him cum inside my pussy again, I told him not to wait, that I wanted him just as much. After that it became an every day thing, and for the past 3 days, been 2 or 3 times a day. To me sex is just sex and there should not be any limits on who you can have sex with. I even walk around the house naked now so I’m ready for his taking. He’s already fucked me in my ass, but really prefers my pussy. I just wanted to put this out there incase any other sons want their mothers, just send them hints and eventually find a way to just ask.

I hoped you liked reading this as much as I enjoyed experiencing it and sharing it with everyone.

Erin looked at the text from her best friend Megan, a response to the text she had sent a moment before.

Erin: “Nutmeg, sorry bout 2day. Talk tomorrow? Lunch?”

Megan: “K. My house at 12. Sorry back. :(

Erin replied once more. “Cool. 12″

So it was on. She slid off her bed and knocked on her mom’s door.

“Come in,” her mom said, somewhat subdued with Cory lying asleep next to her. Erin pushed the door open and eased in, returning her mother’s smile. Her mom had the laptop open and resting on her bent knees as she sat propped up against two pillows at the headboard. “Hey, sweetie,” she said. “What’s going on?”

Erin sat on the bed by Michelle’s legs. “Nothing really. I just wanted to talk to you about what happened with Megan. I don’t want us to keep any secrets.”

“Oh.” Her mother sounded concerned, closing the laptop. “Okay?”


“It’s all right, baby doll. You can tell me anything.” Michelle placed her hand on her daughter’s knee, compassion in her voice and touch.

“I texted Megan and we’re meeting at her house tomorrow at noon. I’m going to try and settle this thing from earlier.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m a little bit scared.”

“Why are you scared?”

“Because I don’t know where it’s going to go. She could believe me and drop it, or she could doubt me and keep her eyes open for a hint at what’s really going on. I just don’t want you to be in the dark about it in case it derails and we have to make a decision.” She bit her bottom lip as she searched her mother’s face for a response.

“A decision as to whether we should stop? Or we should let her in on it? Or we should just be more careful? What? What kind of decision are you thinking?” her mom asked.

“I guess just those things. I don’t know.”

“Honey, do you want to stop so Megan doesn’t get suspicious?”

“No! That’s just it. I don’t want to stop. I love this. I love what we’re doing. I love how our family is closer now, and not just sexually, but emotionally. I don’t want to lose this.” Her eyes started tearing up as she talked.

“Oh, sweetie,” Michelle soothed, leaning into her daughter and pulling her toward her as she talked, Erin lying down on her mother’s chest, her head on her shoulder. Michelle stroked her hair as the blonde cried lightly, her mother’s eyes filling with tears as she spoke. “I don’t think any of us want this to stop. I have to admit that this is not how I imagined my relationship with my adult children, but I can’t deny that you’re right. We are closer. This house is overflowing with love and peace like it’s never known. We laugh and love and hug. We play. We have family dinners… You’re right, Erin; it’s not purely sexual. This house is safe for the first time ever and I want to do whatever it takes to keep that.” She kissed her daughter on the top of her head and pulled her back to an upright position. Erin wiped at her eyes.

“So,” her mother asked her, “What do you want from me?”

Erin smiled. “I think I just got what I wanted. I know now that I just have to protect all this.” She looked around the room with her arms outstretched. “This is our family, our safe place. And as much as I love Megan, I think ultimately she would be a threat to what we have.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to stick to our story. I’ll try to make up with her, but I won’t let her in on our secret. She and I can still have our friendship and the benefits that brings with it,” she smiled, bringing a return smile and nod from her mother, “But as far as letting her know what we’re doing, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Okay, I agree.” Michelle looked over at her son and asked his sister, “So what does that mean for him?”

“I think I’ll encourage Megan to sniff around somewhere else, but if Cory wants to sleep with her, that’s his call. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Okay,” her mom nodded.

“Soooo….what are you working on so late?” Erin asked, nodding toward the laptop on the bed at her mother’s hip.

“Oh! Just a…” she shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Just one of my stories.”

“Really? Can I see it?”

“Not now,” she laughed quietly. “It’s not finished yet!”

“Can you at least give me a preview? Tell me what it’s about?”

Michelle searched the ceiling for her answer, but after a second she nodded and smiled. “It’s about a mother catching her children having sex. It’s a little different than my other stories.”

“Go on,” Erin said. “Tell me more.”

“Oh, I just write as I go. I don’t know where it’s going yet. My stories just unfold organically.”

“What’s happened so far?” She was persistent.

“Okay, just briefly. I don’t want to ruin everything.” She cleared her throat. “There’s a snow storm coming so the mother’s office sends everyone home early so they can beat the storm. She doesn’t think about calling home to tell her kids, so she walks into the house and hears them upstairs. She doesn’t know what that sound is, so she follows it to her daughter’s room. There…on the bed…her children have their backs to the door and her daughter’s pussy is spread wide open, slick with her juices. She is on her hands and knees and her brother is above her, drilling her ass as she cries out.”

They were both getting worked up. Erin rubbed her thigh as she said, “That is so hot, mom!”

“You think so?”

“Oh, my god, you have no idea. What happens next?”

“I don’t…I’m not quite sure. The mother is upset, obviously, but I haven’t worked out her response yet.”

“How do you think you’re going to do it?”

She looked down at her hands, which were idly playing with the sheet, and cleared her throat again. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“I promise, mom. Hand up.” She raised her right hand to confirm her promise.

“I’m trying to decide between them forcing her to watch while she’s in bondage, or the mother teaching the son a lesson by using a strap-on on him.”

“Fuck, mom, either one of those would be fucking hot!” Erin spread her legs so she could more readily stroke herself through her blue cotton panties.

“Can I ask you a question, Erin?” her mother asked as she watched her daughter masturbate through her panties.

“Anything,” she breathed.

“Have you ever been tied up for sex?”

“No. But I’ve kind of always wanted to try it.”

“Me, too. Kind of.” Michelle blushed.

“Do you, uh…do you think [Erin pointed at her brother] would go for being pegged?”

Her mother looked confused. “Pegged.”

“Pegging is when a guy is fucked in the ass with a dildo.” She smiled as she said it.

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I doubt it. ” She shook her head emphatically to make her point.

“I was just wondering. You know, some guys like having their prostate massaged while they get sucked or jerked off. It’s supposed to make the orgasm more intense.”


“That’s what they say. Think about it, mom. They have the same nerve endings we do back there. It only makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess it does. Hmm, maybe I should write it into the story and see what kind of response it gets,” Michelle wondered.

“Even better,” whispered Erin, “I’ll have him read it to me while I suck him off again and I’ll stick my finger in when he gets to the part where someone does it in the story. Then we’ll see how he really feels about it.” She giggled after she said it, clapping excitedly and quietly, bringing a quiet laugh from her mother.

“That sounds like a good plan!”

“Okay, you work on it and let me know when the story is finished and I’ll take it from there.”


Erin looked at the clock and noted that it was past midnight. “Oh! I need to let you sleep. I’m sorry.” She kissed her mother on the lips and slid off the bed. “Good night, mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby girl. See you tomorrow.”

“‘Kay.” Erin slipped out the door and Michelle set her laptop on the nightstand before turning out the light, her mind drifting to the fantasy mix of her characters and her real family. By the time she finally fell asleep, she had the skeleton of a working scene in her mind.

At just a few minutes before noon Megan opened the door, nervous at the greeting she would receive from her best (or former best?) friend. She was relieved when the blonde stepped through the door and hugged her like she always had, a smile in her voice as she greeted her.

“Hello, beautiful,” she lilted.

“Hey, blondie.” She hugged her friend back and sighed with relief at the first indication that their friendship may be on track after all.

Erin pulled away and immediately began, “I’m so, so sorry about yesterday. I totally overreacted.” She didn’t even get the first few words out before Megan began shaking her head emphatically.

“No, no. I’M sorry. I never should have gone into his room and I certainly never should have doubted what you told me about the two of you. I trust you and I think I was calling you a liar when I accused you guys of having sex.”

Erin nodded quietly. Megan reached behind her and closed the door. “Come on,” she said, “Let’s get something to drink.” Erin nodded and followed her into the kitchen where her little brunette friend poured some tea and heated some queso in the microwave before picking up a bag of chips and carrying the chips and queso down to the basement rec room. Erin followed behind, carrying two glasses of tea. Megan set the chips and dip on the octagonal card table in the corner, Erin following with the tea before dipping a chip and biting off a cheese-covered corner.

“I’ll rack, you break,” Megan suggested. She pulled the rack off the wall and Erin scooped the billiard balls out of the pocket, rolling them across the red felt toward Megan, who set them in the rack for a game. They always did something while they talked about hard things. It was somehow less threatening that way.

“Megan, tell me some more about you and your brother. How did that really play out?” Erin asked without accusation.

“I told you.”

“No. You summarized. What really happened?”

Megan sighed as she chalked up a pool cue before handing it to Erin. Megan removed the rack and stood to the side as her friend broke through the triangle of balls, sending one stripe and one solid into the pockets. “Good break,” she encouraged.

“Thanks. Four in the side.” Erin tapped the cue ball, bumping the four ball into the side pocket. “Solids. Okay, spill it.” She wrapped two hands around the cue, leaning on it as she waited for her friend to tell the story.

Megan began talking about her own attraction to her brother and his eventual confession to mutual attraction. As she shared the progression of their relationship, and the ultimate decision not to pursue it sexually any further, she and her friend continued to play pool. Erin called her shots over her friend’s retelling, and Megan only interrupted herself to call her next shot or to offer praise for good shots her friend made. They would each wander over to get a chip or tea and the game dragged out longer than it should have because it was honestly more of a distraction than a focused game.

“So that’s pretty much it,” she said.

Erin nodded as she dipped another chip into the queso. “Thank you. I was just wondering how it compared to our story, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“You have to promise not to repeat what I’m about to tell you.”

“I swear.” She raised her hand.

“I wasn’t really mad at Cory yesterday for fantasizing about me.”

“You weren’t? Really?”

“Really. The truth is, I fantasize about him, too, but I can’t let him know. One of us has to hold our ground. If he found out, then neither one of us would be the strong one. Honestly, that day with you and him at the pool was so hot! I wanted so badly to feel him in me or at least to taste him. It took all my resolve not to taste his cum off your stomach, Meg.”

“That would have been amazing!”

“I know, right? And that’s the problem. And that’s why I can’t ever let on that I want him. And it’s also why you have to stop pushing for it or even mentioning it ever again. I’m only so strong and I’m afraid if he ever pushed himself on me I wouldn’t be able to resist.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I may even want him more than he wants me.”

“I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s cool. I debated telling you, but I know you love me and if you knew how difficult it was for me to want him and not follow up, that you wouldn’t add any more pressure to the temptation.” She laughed a little and looked at the ceiling. “God,” she laughed, “I must sound like a freak.”

Megan quickly embraced her friend and stroked her hair. “No, no. Don’t say that. We can’t always help what we feel. The heart wants what it wants. I appreciate you sharing your secret with me. I promise I’ll never pester you about that again. Even joking. I promise.” She stepped back and looked into Erin’s eyes. “Okay? Promise.”

Erin nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. As far as Megan knew, Erin was crying from feeling like a freak and making a humiliating confession. But for Erin the tears were remorse that she had lied to her best friend, the one she had always been honest with. But she didn’t see any other way around it. Her heart ached at what she had done.

“Thank you, Megan,” Erin sniffled. “Thank you for understanding and not judging me.”

“You know there’s no judgment here. I’m your friend. I love you.” They hugged again to gain the comfort they both needed. “Of course,” Megan said, backing away and dipping a chip, “Just because I’m your friend, doesn’t mean I can’t still kick your ass at Guitar Hero.”

Erin laughed. “You’ve NEVER kicked my ass at Guitar Hero.”

“Apparently you still suck at history.”

“Set it up. Prepare to be fucked up the ass by my Gibson, bitch!”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Megan smiled.

“Yeah, you say that now.”

For the next hour, the two once-again best friends battled it out onstage as if the past 24 hours had never happened.

Cory knocked on his boss’s door as soon as the last truck pulled out for the morning.


Cory opened the door to Dan’s office and stepped inside. “Hey, Dan. You got a minute?”

“Sure, Cory. Have a seat.”

Cory closed the door behind him and sat down. Dan swiveled in his chair and opened the dorm refrigerator, pulling out two store-brand sodas, handing one to Cory. “How are things in the warehouse?” he asked, popping his can open as he asked.

Cory opened his and took a sip before answering. “Good, I think. We have most of the strike freight out now. I think we can get the rest of it out tomorrow or maybe by Thursday.”

“Great! Listen, Cory, I respect the hell out of you. You know that. I appreciate how hard you and the guys have worked the last few weeks to keep that place in order. Having you guys working so hard downstairs has made it a damn sight easier up here, let me tell you. So thank you for that.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Cory nodded and took another sip.

“Something on your mind, son?” Dan asked. Dan was in his fifties, slightly overweight, but not obese, and was a kind and respectable man. He started off in the warehouse like Cory is, and he worked hard to make sure the drones and drivers didn’t get shit on by administration.

“Yes, sir, but it’s not about work. It’s personal, but I’m hoping you can help me out.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“You know my parents recently divorced…” Dan nodded as Cory spoke. “And this will be my mother’s first Thanksgiving after the divorce.” He took another sip. “Well, I know you have that cabin,” he said, pointing to the picture behind Dan on his wall, “and was wondering what the possibility would be of me taking my mom and sister there for Thanksgiving weekend. I mean, I know you rent it out and I know it’s a long way off, but I need time to save the money for it. I want it to be a surprise, but I have to have time to make the money for it.”

“No you don’t.” Dan shook his head. “We rent that thing out in the summer and early fall for the leaf change. By mid-October, no one’s going up there anyway. I’ll make you a deal. You make sure it’s winterized before you leave, and it’s yours free of charge.” Dan smiled.

“Seriously?” Cory smiled.

“Of course. First off, I trust you to take care of it. You’ve proven your worth. Second, from a business perspective, I’m not losing anything by letting you have it free, so it would simply be a bullshit move for me to keep it from you. Go. Have fun. Relax. And I’ll tell you something else: I expect you to miss work the Wednesday before and Monday after so you can take care of your family. It won’t count against you. You’ve earned it.”

“Wow. Thanks. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you won’t screw me over by getting slack on the job.” Dan stood and extended his hand. Cory followed suit and they both smiled as they shook hands. “Now get the hell out of my office.” Dan’s face turned serious before he gave Cory a wink.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Cory shut the door behind him and drifted home on a cloud.

The next few days went by without a hitch. Things were great between Erin and Megan, between Cory and work, and between Michelle and, well, everyone. The three of them had a chance Wednesday night to make love again. This time was more leisurely and gentle, but the intensity of the climaxes was not diminished.

Michelle returned to her desk after a meeting on Thursday morning and saw that she had missed a call from Cory on her cell phone. She checked her voicemail and smiled, her stomach a ball of excitement.

“Hey, Vanessa, this is Cory. I’ve been thinking about our date this weekend and I think we’ll go a little more casual. I’m wearing jeans, just so you know. Dress comfortably so we can just relax for a while. I’m really looking forward to spending some time with you tomorrow night. Be ready by 6:30. We’ll start with dinner. See you then.”

She replayed the message and smiled.

“Well someone really loves you!”

Michelle jumped with a start and turned around to see Dena standing there with a huge bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath.

“Oh, my!” Michelle blushed. Her jaw dropped in surprise. She had not received red roses in more than 25 years. Her eyes began to tear up and Dena set the roses on the front of Michelle’s desk before coming around the end to console her.

“He must be a wonderful man for you to be so smitten. And he obviously knows a good woman when he sees one. You hang on to this one.”

Michelle simply nodded, unable to remove her focus from the roses. Dena handed her a tissue and told her she would hold her calls until after lunch. Michelle nodded again, dropping into her seat where she began to sob, overwhelmed with love. After a few minutes, she reached for the card in a small pink envelope. Flipping the card over, she read, “For my Venus. I love you. C” This brought a fresh pang of love, accompanied with a smile.

She opened her phone and sent a text to her son. “Someone sent me flowers.”

A moment later: “That’s odd. Anyone I know?”

“I hope so! Are those for me or Vanessa?”

“How do I choose? ;)

“You don’t have to. They’re both very happy.”

“I’m glad. I love you both. Very much.”

“We love you, too. Very much.”

“Did Vanessa get my message?”

“She did. She’s so excited!”

“So am I. Gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Michelle slumped back in her chair. She felt like a little girl again. She walked around to the front of her desk and smelled the flowers. Picking up the vase, she set them on the bureau behind her desk so she could smell them all day, but would not get distracted by having such a huge arrangement of flowers in front of her. The rest of her day was much better.

By the time Erin got home from Megan’s, Cory was already making his “world’s best” turkey burgers. They were his mother’s favorite and he and Erin both loved them. She came up and greeted him with a kiss while his hands were buried in his mix of ground turkey and various seasonings.

“How’d it go with Megan?” he asked.

“Really good,” she replied, hopping up to sit on the counter. She began to explain how she had handled it and confidently asserted that Megan shouldn’t be a problem anymore.

“Listen, Erin. Can we trade cars tomorrow night? I have a date with Vanessa and I’d like to borrow your Forerunner.”

“Yeah, that sounds okay. Am I going to need to replace the shocks when I get it back?” she teased.

“Well, you know Vanessa,” he shrugged.

She laughed and swung her leg up to kick him in the butt.

As she helped him work on dinner about an hour later, they heard the garage door open. Cory looked over at Erin and smiled, but didn’t say a word. Erin just thought he was weird. Until her mother came in. As soon as the door opened, Cory turned around to put his back to the counter. Michelle made a beeline straight for him and threw herself into him. They made out shamelessly and passionately right there in front of Erin, who had no clue why.

“Damn,” she said, watching the oddly enticing scene before her. “I have a feeling I’m sleeping alone tonight,” she said as she turned back to her task of slicing the onions for her homemade salsa.

Michelle backed away, breathing heavily, love and lust in her eyes as she looked up at her son. “Why me?” she asked, tears starting to fill her eyes.

“Why not you?” he asked, his thumb stroking her cheek. Again she wrapped her arms around his waist, this time burying her face in his chest. He held her tightly to himself and stroked her back for a minute before pushing her away when he felt her starting to relax. “Why don’t you go change? Erin and I will finish up dinner and we’ll eat on the patio.”

Michelle simply nodded before turning to go upstairs.

“What the hell was that all about?” Erin asked.

“You told me that I could be a man that reminds her what it means to be a woman who is loved and respected. That’s all I’m doing.” With that, he walked out to the patio to flip the burgers on the grill.

Dinner was lighthearted and relaxed. Michelle cleaned the dishes up, telling her children to relax. They sat at the counter talking to her as she cleaned everything up, the satellite radio playing low in the background. Having drained the dishwater from the sink, their mother turned to Erin. “I need Cory to myself tonight. And tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Cory didn’t say a word.

Erin thought for a moment and nodded. “Sure, yeah. If I can work it out, would it be all right if I spent a couple of days at Megan’s, then?”

Michelle thought she may have hurt Erin. “That’s fine. Did I do something?”

“No, nothing like that. But if I can’t be involved for a couple of days, I don’t know that I need to be here and be tempted by it. And then Saturday, mom, I want you.”

“So you’re not upset? I don’t want to be selfish.”

“No. I don’t know what happened today, so that’s a surprise, but I knew that tomorrow is your date and I expected to be out of that one.”

“But we’re all good?” Michelle asked. Cory and Erin agreed that everything was fine.

Michelle walked around the counter and hugged and kissed her daughter, whispering, “Thank you, sweetie. I can’t wait for Saturday.” She pulled away and smiled, getting a smiling nod from Erin.

Turning to Cory, his mother pointed, “You. Come with me.” She walked upstairs, fully expecting him to follow her. As soon as he walked into her room, he saw her standing there, still dressed in her tank top and shorts, her hand on her hip.

“You need to know that my panties were soaked all afternoon after I got those flowers. And I haven’t been able to do anything about it. Think you can help me out?”

“I think so,” Cory smiled.

His mother yanked her tank top over her head and shoved her shorts and panties down. Within a couple of seconds she was suddenly completely nude. With one hand she squeezed her tit and pulled her nipple while the other hand stroked at her clit. She apparently had no patience because she dropped onto the bed and pulled her feet up, spreading her knees apart.

“Get to work,” she ordered.

Her son didn’t wait for clarification. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in her pussy, clamping his mouth right on it. As soon as he made contact, she responded with a scream.

“OH, FUCK!” she cried, her hand latching onto the back of his head, gripping his hair and pulling him into her. He worked his tongue into her and up over her clit. Forcing his face further against her, Cory reached up on the outside of her thighs and grabbed both tits, squeezing with the fervor she was demanding. “Dammit, Cory. Squeeze my tits. God, fuck me with your tongue!” She raised her head to watch her son working her pussy over with his mouth and caught sight of him looking at her.

She was only mildly surprised to see Erin standing at the door watching with a hand down her shorts. She winked at her daughter, who smiled back as her hand moved behind the red shorts. Knowing she was being watched only turned Michelle on more and it wasn’t long before she began humping against her son’s face while she looked her daughter in the eye.

Cory was moaning into her cunt, enjoying the flavor she was releasing. She was right. She had been sitting in her own moisture a long time. The smell was in her pubic hair and as soon as he jammed his nose into her fur he knew that what she had said was the truth. It was musky and strong and made his burgeoning erection bend in pain, being pinned downward by his shorts. He tried to ignore it. He was going to make her handle it after she came in his mouth.

It didn’t take long.

“GAH!” she screamed, “I’m cumming, baby! Lick it up!” She squealed and convulsed before settling back, her hips dropping to the bed. Cory stood up and quickly removed his shirt and his shorts, kicking them to the side before grabbing his mother’s thighs and driving straight into her.

“OH!” she screamed, surprised. “You wanted it, huh, baby? You wanted momma’s cunt?”

“Yeah! I wanted it all day!” He was driving into her with both depth and speed, smacking into her thighs and butt with his groin. They were making loud slapping noises at each impact. Michelle looked around him and saw her naked daughter by the door, leaning against the wall, one foot up on the dresser, her hand working over her pussy.

“Get it, then!” she said through gritted teeth. “Fuck it for all you’re worth!”

Cory suddenly pulled free, disappointing and surprising her as he shuffled onto the bed, holding himself at the base. Almost immediately she knew what he wanted. She turned over onto her knees quickly to be able to take him in her mouth, and as soon as he was close enough, she held him with her hand and jammed her mouth down onto him. She made lewd noises as she drooled all over him and popped him into her throat and back out. After only a few seconds of this, she spun around onto her back again so he could thrust back into her cunt.

Three or four times they repeated this process and as her son plowed into her pussy or forced his cock into her mouth, she caught herself looking over to see her daughter shoving her fingers into her snatch or rubbing her clit intently. Michelle smiled at her and watched as a silent orgasm burst forth onto the carpet, an arcing stream of cum blasting several feet in front of the tiny blonde siren.

This forced a climax from the older temptress. The strength of her orgasm pressed her son out of her canal and splashed his groin and the bedspread they were fucking on. As she collapsed he rammed back into her and picked up where he had left off, quickly drawing another and then another flooding climax from her.

“I’m cumming, mom!” Cory wailed.

She ripped herself away from him and took him back into her mouth, bringing a strained groan from her son as his orgasm was imminent. He removed his own hand as she stroked him, her mouth covering the head.

“Here it is!” he grunted.

She quickly pulled off and breathed his name.

He looked down and saw the underside of his head resting on her tongue, her mouth wide open. He tried to hold his eyes open, but failed. He felt the first blast scream its way out, followed by a moan and another blast, another moan. By the third blast he had his strength enough to open his eyes and watch. He watched a stream fly out, creating a streak down from his mother’s hairline to her nose, but it had landed between two other streaks, one that ran from her hair to chin and one that had splashed on her nose and ran diagonally over one eye. She had a huge smile as she continued to stroke him. Everything was too much and the fourth stream arched over her head, landing on the bedspread and in her hair. Two more convulsions forced more seed to dribble onto her tongue, creating a puddle of white on her bright pink tongue.

“How do I look?” she laughed as her son collapsed onto his heels, breathing heavily. “Because I feel like a whore.” She swallowed what was on her tongue and sucked the remaining cum from her son’s cock, bringing a flinch and a laugh. She stood and walked to the bathroom to see herself in the mirror. “Oh, my god, that’s so sexy. I’ve never had so much cum on my face. I definitely feel like a whore now. I look like a porn star.” She turned to her son. “Maybe one day you can film us fucking and I can watch myself getting sprayed with your cum, baby. What do you think?”

“Damn, mom,” he groaned with a smile, shaking his head.

Erin had already gone back to her room after her brother facialized her mother, but she heard the conversation through the two open doors and whispered to herself, “Or maybe he can cum on both our faces.” She laughed to herself at the thought, then picked up her laptop to message Megan about spending the day and night with her.

Michelle’s alarm went off at six, and she woke up with butterflies in her stomach. “Tonight’s the night,” she sang to herself as she slid out of bed. She was very excited about her date with Cory even though she had no idea what he had in mind. She had been trying all week to stay on top of her work, or even ahead of it, so there would be no reason for her to have to stay late. She even told her manager that she was going to work through lunch so she could leave a little bit early today. She said that would be all right and asked if she had plans with the man who gave her those beautiful roses, smiling as she asked. Michelle had nodded and smiled, her heart again overflowing with love at just the mention of a date with him.

After getting ready for work, she went to the kitchen and packed a light lunch into her insulated lunch bag. Turning to the coffee maker to fill her travel mug, she saw a note stuck onto the front of the coffee maker. It simply read. “6:30. Be ready. Love you.” Again, butterflies.

Erin made her way to Megan’s house early in the day. Her mother was gone to work and her brother would not be home for several hours, but she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her best friend. She pulled her bag out of the back seat and as soon as she closed the door, she saw Megan coming around the front of the car. “Hey, blondie,” she said. “What’s with the car?”

“Oh. Cory needed the room in my Forerunner, so we traded for the weekend.”

“Okay. Cool.” Megan smiled and grabbed Erin’s hand. “Soooo… do you have any plans for the weekend?”

“You’re the host,” Erin smiled, her head tilted a little to the side. “I’m at your mercy.”

“Mmm. We’ll see about that.” Megan kissed Erin lightly and briefly on the lips, stroking her arm. She backed away and noted that Erin had that peaceful look. Everything was good between them, it seemed. “Let’s go inside.”


For the first couple of hours, the two beauties watched a horror movie on Netflix, flirting and laughing together, and munching on light snacks. By the time the movie was over, they had decided on a second one, the next one in the sequel, and ordered a pizza with toppings that neither of their families would eat. After they finished their pizza, they lay on the couch, Megan spooning Erin, and watched the rest of the slasher film, just enjoying each other’s company and occasionally making out.

Erin’s head was turned toward her brunette lover’s face, which was hovering above her own as she felt Megan’s body pressed against her back, her hand reaching over to cover her breast. Neither had said a word in the last few minutes as they had just continued to reconnect for the first time since their fight. Erin heard a gasp and moan and turned her head in surprise to see two of the surplus characters in the movie making out. It was two of the cheerleaders, the redhead and the nerdy brunette virgin. They were in a hot tub and apparently the redhead had convinced the virgin that she could stay a virgin and still have a little fun.

Erin was enjoying the show, especially combined with the feeling of her own friend’s hand on her breast while she watched the redhead pulling the bikini top of the young brunette over to the side, exposing her small pink nipples.

“Erin,” Megan whispered in the blonde’s ear, “I still have my cheerleading costume from two Halloweens ago.”

“Oh god,” Erin breathed, Megan’s hand stroking her lower belly.

“And the hot tub is just sitting empty on the deck.” She licked the rim of Erin’s ear. “Why watch a movie when we can go right now?”

Erin giggled. “I suppose you’re the slutty cheerleader and I’m the hapless virgin?”

“If you don’t mind a little role play.”

“Mm-mm,” she shook her head.

“Good,” Megan breathed. “Wait for me in the tub.” She patted Erin on the hip and they both sat up, Megan pausing the movie, the image of the two girls kissing frozen on the large screen.

“Wait,” Erin said. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Improvise,” Megan called out, never bothering to turn around as she made her way to her room.

The blonde walked out to the deck and turned on the hot tub jets, checking the water temperature. She was thankful that they had the hot tub in a separate screened in section of the deck so they didn’t have to keep it covered all the time. It also afforded a little privacy since they put rolling bamboo blinds over the screens, which would be replaced with glass in the winter.

Erin quickly returned to her bag, having formed the beginnings of a plan. She stripped and dropped her clothes on her bag at the foot of the couch before putting on her glasses and putting her hair up in a ponytail.

She had only been settled into the tub for a minute when she heard the sliding glass door open behind her. She whipped her head around, like a young woman realizing she was somewhere she probably shouldn’t have been. Megan let a brief smile escape before belting out, “What the hell are you doing here?” and quickly closing the door behind her.

It only took Erin a split second to appreciate the black and gold and white cheer top and skirt her friend had donned, the gold-trimmed black letters “FU” on the chest.

“I…uh… I didn’t know anyone was home. Your brother had to go to baseball practice, but told me to wait here. He said I could use the hot tub.” She tried to look scared and nervous.

“He did, huh? You must be Tracy, his girlfriend. I’m Ashley.” Megan walked up and extended a hand to her brother’s girlfriend. Erin tried to cover her chest with one arm while pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose before reaching out to shake Meg… Ashley’s hand. “You’re cute. I can see why he likes you.”

“Uh…thanks. I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you shy? You seem a little bashful about having another girl talk to you while you’re topless.” Megan leaned in and craned her neck to look into the water. “Or naked.”

“Well, I didn’t bring a swimsuit. I didn’t think anyone would be home.”

Megan stood up again and stretched. “Well, I’m a little tight after practice. I was going to hop in the hot tub and let the jets work their magic. Mind if I join you?”

“I’ll just get out. Can you hand me that towel, please?” she asked, indicating the towel on the plastic table by the door.

“You don’t have to do that. This tub is plenty big for the two of us.” With that, Megan pulled her top over her head, forcing a gasp from the bespectacled blonde as she saw her friend’s breasts “for the first time”, and watched her ponytail tied with a gold ribbon swing at her neck. Megan smiled and shook her head at her lover’s feigned shock.

“You’re not going to wear a swim suit?” she asked, still shielding her eyes.

“Why?” she asked. “Never seen another girl naked?” she laughed.


“Tracy. Look at me.” The blonde looked up timidly. Megan was compassionate, but matter-of-fact. “They’re just tits. We all have them.” She lifted her modest breasts and “Tracy” nodded, though still obviously embarrassed. “And this,” said Ashley, lifting her skirt in the front, “is my pussy and it’s pretty much like yours, I’m sure. Unless you’re hiding a dick under those bubbles. You’re not a tranny are you?” she laughed.

Tracy laughed a little at that one. “No. I have a…I’m like you.”

“Great! Now that we got that out of the way,” Ashley pushed her skirt down and stepped out of it, “Let’s hot tub!” She climbed in on the opposite side of where Tracy sat, and settled into the water, resting her head on the side of the tub and closing her eyes with a sigh. She extended her legs and felt her foot brush against Tracy’s.

“So, Tracy. Where did you meet my brother?”

“We’re in English Lit together.”

“Yeah? Are you an English major like he is?”


“I like to read.”

“What do you like to read?”

“Erotic Literature. Stuff like that.” She smiled at Tracy’s expression.

Tracy squirmed a little, making it a point of looking uncomfortable in front of the bold brunette across from her. “Um, when is someone supposed to come home?”

“Why? Is my brother supposed to join you out here?” Ashley didn’t even open her eyes.

“No. I just don’t want to get caught…like this.”

Ashley lifted her head and sat up straight. “Like what? Naked?”


“Don’t worry. When he gets here, I’ll leave so you two can… you know,” she winked “Bow chicka wow wow.” She laughed afterward, hoping to draw Tracy out.

“Oh, we haven’t…done…that.”

“Really? You guys have been dating for…what? Three months?”


“Have you done anything? Handjobs? Oral?”

“No.” Tracy pushed her glasses up onto her nose and turned to look away.

“How long do you usually wait before you do something with a guy?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything with a guy before.”

“Really?” Ashley sounded surprised.

“Really. I mean I’ve never even kissed a guy.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, I want to, but… I… uh, I don’t want to mess it up.”

Ashley sighed and nodded, gliding across to sit next to Tracy. “Okay, do you want to know how to kiss?”

Tracy nodded quickly. “Oh, yes! Very much!”

“Tell you what. I’m gonna help you out. I’ll teach you how to kiss. Then you can kiss whoever you want without being afraid.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not a lesbian.”

“So what?” Ashley laughed. “I’m just a tutor. You don’t have to call yourself a lesbian because a girl helps you learn how to kiss. So you can kiss your BOYfriend. I won’t even tell anyone. No one ever has to know.”

“Well, I guess if no one finds out…”

“Okay, then. I’ll be the boy and you will, of course, be you. That means I’ll have to do what a guy is going to do and you’ll have to be prepared to respond to it. Okay?”

“Okay…I guess. I don’t know what that means.”

“You’ll know when I do it. Anything you want to stop, you stop. If you want me to keep going, you just let me. That’s how it works with guys.”

“Oh. All right.”

“Ready?” Ashley asked.

Tracy nodded, biting her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and felt her glasses being removed from her face. She opened her eyes to see Ashley closing the arms of her black plastic frames and setting them on the edge of the hot tub. Ashley turned back to Tracy and taking her face in both hands she closed her eyes and grazed her lips across the virgin’s lips for her first kiss ever.

Tracy was immediately entranced, trying hard not to break her role as a virgin. Erin wanted so badly to respond as Megan’s experienced lover, not as a virgin getting tutored to kiss by an experienced cheerleader. But she held back. She even allowed herself to giggle at the touch, causing Megan to giggle back before clearing her throat and beginning the kiss again.

This time Erin allowed Tracy to relax into it and felt the virgin inside responding to the experience of her tutor. She timidly kissed back and followed the touch of her teacher. When Ashley kissed, Tracy kissed. When Ashley’s tongue touched Tracy’s lip, Tracy’s tongue responded in kind. When the cheerleader’s hands moved down her neck, the virgin’s hands came up to touch her shoulders. As the student would follow the tutor, so the virgin followed the experienced.

Ashley backed away and breathed, “Very good.” She cleared her throat and said, “Now, if you’re in a situation like we are here, in a hot tub, he will probably pull you onto his lap, so when I move you toward me, that’s what you need to be ready for. Okay?”

“Okay,” Erin breathed with a nervous smile.

Megan reached for her again and they continued from where they had left off. After about a minute, the cheerleader placed her hands on the virgin’s waist and pulled her on top of her. Tracy obliged by straddling her thighs and quickly found her ass being squeezed by her imaginary boyfriend. She pulled back and saw Ashley’s eyebrows rise in a question and after a moment, she responded with a subtle nod. She surprised herself by actually initiating the kiss this time. Naturally, Erin wasn’t surprised, but her character Tracy was kissing back now, and that was the surprise. Erin was actually losing herself in the role and she wondered if Megan was doing the same.

“Um… Ashley?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was quiet.

“Is it normal for the girl to get… you know… excited… when kissing a boy?”

“Totally normal. Why? Are you getting excited?”

“A little.”

“Don’t be surprised if you feel the boy’s… penis… getting hard. Especially if you’re on his lap. And especially because you’re so beautiful.”

“Really? You think I’m beautiful?”

“Abolutely. In fact, I’m sure my brother will be hard when he finally gets to kiss you. If a boy gets hard, you can lower yourself against him and feel it. You can probably orgasm from a good make-out if you grind your clit on his lap.” Her voice was almost in a whisper as she explained it. Both girls spoke so quietly that they could barely be heard above the hot tub motor and bubbling water.

“My clit?” Tracy asked. Erin didn’t know how much Tracy was supposed to know about her body, but she knew Megan well enough to know which direction she would probably take it.

“Your clitoris,” Ashley clarified. Tracy shook her head, looking confused. “Do you ever touch yourself? Masturbate?” Again Tracy shook her head, looking down at the water between them. “May I?” Tracy looked up and smiled, nodding slightly, nervously. A moment later she gasped as she felt Ashley’s fingers on her pussy, feeling them glide forward before stopping at the front, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. “You see? Put your hand on mine.”

Tracy reached down and placed her fingers on Ashley’s fingers. Ashley slid her hand out and covered Tracy’s, prompting her to move side to side over her love button. “Oh, my!” gasped the virgin blonde. “That feels wonderful!”

“I know! You can use almost anything to stimulate it and it will bring you pleasure. Now, pretend my wrist is an erection while we kiss, and rub yourself on it.”

“Are you sure?” Tracy asked with uncertainty.

“Positive. It won’t feel just like a co…I mean…erect penis, but you’ll still get a sense of what I’m talking about.” Ashley covered her mound with her hand, resting her wrist against her lower belly and as Tracy leaned in to kiss her again, she pressed her hips forward. Ashley felt the familiar softness of her longtime lover pressing against the back of her wrist, and worked her own middle finger into herself as the lithe blonde on her lap masturbated herself on the back of her arm.

“Oh, wow,” Tracy began to breathe, her eyes pinched closed. “This feels amazing!”

Ashley breathed back at her, “It feels even better on a real one.”


“Really. Okay, I’m going to move my arm to start making out with you like a boy would. You keep touching yourself. First, it feels great, and second, boys like to see a girl touch herself.” Tracy just nodded as Ashley pulled her arm out and began stroking Tracy’s thigh and up over her hips while their tongues danced. Tracy settled lower and Ashley would feel the back of her hand on her mound as Tracy bumped it as she pleasured herself.

The experienced cheerleader took things to a new level when she slid her hands back to cup Tracy’s ass. Tracy gasped and moved her hand faster. The two fed off each other’s boldness and pleasure. Ashley became bolder and Tracy became more receptive. She buried her face in Ashley’s shoulder as she came on her own hand, convulsing on the brunette’s lap. She was about to stop, but Ashley told her she could keep going. She could cum as many times as she wanted to, not like a boy.

Tracy took the hint and picked up again, this time feeling Ashley’s hands on her breast. She sat back a little to look down at the contact. When she caught Ashley’s eye, she felt herself being pushed back off her lap to stand in the center of the hot tub. The water came to just above her waist. Ashley’s hands held her by the rear end and she looked her in the eye as she captured first one, then the other, nipple into her mouth. Tracy gasped and her hand held the back of Ashley’s head.

Ashley pulled away for a moment, saying, “Boys won’t stop at kissing. They will play with you as long as you let them. They will want to touch every part of you with every part of themselves.” With that, she latched back on, this time more aggressively. She felt Tracy’s nipples stiffen even more and she grasped her ass and squeezed. Feeling bolder, she brought her hand down low and slid the edge of her index finger along Tracy’s labia, enjoying the softness. Tracy responded by rotating her hips, moaning and gasping.

“Oh my,” Tracy breathed. “This feels fantastic. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Ashley assured her.

“Better than that?”

Ashley stood in front of her. “Here. Sit on the edge.”

“I don’t know…” She looked nervous again.

“Trust me.”

Tracy thought for a moment, making a show of looking to the ceiling with her finger on her lips. “Hmmm… Okay.” She smiled innocently, expressing a little embarrassment. She climbed out and sat on the edge, her knees together, one hand on her thigh, and the other arm covering her breasts.

“Still nervous?” Ashley asked. Tracy nodded. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re very beautiful. My brother is a lucky guy.”

“Do you think a boy will think I’m beautiful?”

“I think they will think you’re very beautiful.” Ashley took a seat on the bench at Tracy’s feet and nudge her knees apart gently. Apprehensive but responsive, Tracy allowed her legs to be spread apart. “Very beautiful,” Ashley repeated in a whisper, looking up at Tracy again. “Now, if the boy is a gentleman, he will be interested in your pleasure, not just his own,” she said, looking at Tracy’s groin and sliding her hands up and down the blonde’s thighs. She looked back up into her eyes. “So he may try something like this.” She kissed Tracy’s inner thigh, then alternated to her other thigh, slowly working her way up as she went.

Tracy was feeling flush, sexually excited, as she watched Ashley get closer to her groin. She naturally spread her legs even more, bringing a moan from Ashley before she felt and saw Ashley’s mouth on her pussy. “Oh, my. That feels good.”

“What feels good? My mouth?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Your mouth feels good.”

“On what?”

“On my… vagina.”

“Nope. Your vagina’s inside. And you don’t want to talk scientific during sex anyway. Call it what others would call it.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Yes you can. Tell me.” She continued to swipe at her between comments.

“Your mouth feels good on my… pussy.”

“Oh, god, yeah!” Ashley attacked her with fervor now, her commentary muffled in the pussy of the little blonde on the side of the tub.

Tracy gasped and moaned, her hand resting on the brunette’s head. Erin tried so hard not to be herself. She would swear at Megan, driving her on, but she was finding the need to hold back and fill a role, so arousing she couldn’t believe it. She had never been quite as innocent as the girl she was pretending to be and she found herself approaching her orgasm more quickly the more she tried to hold back her expressions of pleasure. It was a sweet, sweet conflict she never could have imagined. “Oh my goodness,” she gasped, straining, “I think I’m about to have another orgasm.”

“Cum. Say you’re going to cum in my mouth,” Ashley demanded.

“Okay. I’m about to cum in your mou—AAHHH!” She finally lost it. She couldn’t even get the words out as she felt herself burst into Ashley’s mouth as her tongue ravished her clit.

Erin was dizzy and she felt an arm around her back, and another take her hand and help her settle into the hot tub again to rest.

“Oh, yeah,” she heard Ashley laugh. “My brother’s definitely going to love you.”

“Oh, my God, Megan,” Erin breathed. “That was fucking amazing.”

“It was fun. I have a feeling those girls onscreen got nothing on us.” Megan scooted close and Erin put her arm around her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Having to hold back and pretend I didn’t know anything made everything so…”


“FUCKING hot!” Erin laughed.

The two sat silently in the hot tub for a few more minutes before finally drying off and going back inside to get dressed and finish their movie before anyone got home. That evening and the next morning they took advantage of whatever time they could get, and brought each other countless orgasms. Erin even decided to return the favor and lick Megan’s ass for the first time while she worked her over with Megan’s favorite vibrator. On Erin’s return home, she decided to go into town for one more stop.

Cory wasn’t quite sure how the evening was going to play out, but he was excited just the same. He knew what Erin had told him was right, that Vanessa knew who he really was and didn’t expect him to blow his money on her, money he didn’t have. After work, he came home and cleaned up before washing and detailing Erin’s Forerunner. As Labor Day approached, he began to look forward to the fall weather and the change in scenery. He could already tell a difference in the evenings as the breezes that swept through became cooler. He made a mental note to bring a thin blanket and a light jacket, just in case.

As the afternoon closed down, he went inside for a shower and change, putting on his cologne, the golf shirt that drew compliments from both his mother and sister, his best jeans (he only had two pair that weren’t used for warehouse work), and dark shoes. He was out of the house by 4:30, wanting to be able to pick Vanessa up for her date like a gentleman. He had planned to use this time to shop for the snacks and to fill the cooler. The weather report had called for overnight rain and he really hoped it would hold off until after their date.

Michelle arrived home to an empty house, excited about her date, but a little disappointed at having no one to greet her when she walked in the door. Oh well, she thought, I’ll be with Cory soon enough. She went to her room and drew a bath, filling it with her favorite scented bubble bath. As she peeled off her bra, she noticed that her nipples were already erect, which matched the tingle in her stomach. Sliding her panties down her legs, she felt the cool air on her moist pussy and noticed that the crotch of her panties was stained dark from her excitement. “I’ve been leaking all day,” she mumbled with a laugh. Standing up, she tossed her panties with her bra into her hamper and scratched lightly at her thatch of dark hair.

Lowering herself in the bath, she enjoyed the luxury of the enveloping warmth mixed with the soft aroma of the bubbles. She ran the loofah over her body lightly, sending tingles over her own skin and down her spine. She touched her nipple and felt how tight and hard it was just from her own hand and the thought of being with Cory again. It didn’t take long before she had set the sponge aside and set to work intentionally stimulating herself. As she rolled and pinched and pulled her nipples, and squeezed and stroked her breasts, her other hand stroked her pussy, dipping fingers into herself and stroking her clit. She even inserted a finger into her ass as she thumbed her clitoris. Her orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy her, but it was enough to relieve a little pressure before her date. She finished her bath by refreshing her shave so she was smooth in all the right places.

She stood from the tub and looked at herself in the mirror as the bubbles ran down. For the first time in her life, well, in a long time anyway, she saw herself as genuinely sexy. She had come to believe what Cory and Erin had been saying about her for the last few weeks. She had spent so much time being criticized that she found it hard to believe many good things about herself, but she was coming around. She saw it now.

She dried off, put on her peach-colored bra and thong set she bought at The Closet and began getting ready. Using a little dry shampoo to clean her hair, she styled it, reapplied her makeup, sprayed her son’s favorite perfume and put on a short, casual skirt, a maroon v-neck baby doll t-shirt and some black casual flats. After brushing her teeth, she put on a dark red lipstick and a light gloss over it. Checking herself in the mirror, turning around and then facing it again, she winked at herself and said, “I’d fuck me.”

She looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:20. She heard the doorbell right as the clock turned to 6:21. “Someone’s early,” she giggled as she made her way downstairs.

Cory stood nervously on the porch, hoping she didn’t feel like he was an idiot for picking her up like this.

He needn’t have worried.

Michelle opened the door, nervous as a schoolgirl. Even though it wasn’t her first date with Cory and even though it definitely wasn’t a blind date, she was nervous and excited and horny and apprehensive all at the same time. She was wondering how her identity as Vanessa was going to unfold, or if it was. Was Vanessa a safe place for her, like it was for Cory? Or was it merely a name to use in public? She wasn’t quite sure.

Cory was awestruck. He had just realized why he wanted to start the date off by picking her up. It was this moment right here: the moment when a guy stands on the porch waiting for his date to open the door and to reveal herself to him for the first time that night. And she looked amazing: casual like he had asked, but stunning just the same. He continued to be amazed. She could have put less effort into her appearance, but she didn’t. Everything from her hair to her painted toe nails screamed SEXY!

“Um… wow. Vanessa, you look amazing!”

“Why thank you, Cory. You look very handsome yourself.” There was a pause as she watched him scan her body, and she thought she could actually feel herself leak into her panties. “Are those for me?”

“Oh! Yes. My mother always told me never to show up for a lady empty-handed.” He handed her the bouquet of brightly colored flowers he had picked up at the grocery store with his snacks.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, burying her nose in one of the bright blue petals, “And they smell wonderful.” She looked up at him. “Your mother sounds like a smart woman.”

“Yes, ma’am. She’s an amazing woman.” Vanessa smiled at that. “Would you like me to put those in some water?”

“I’ll just set them here. They seem fresh enough to wait until I get home.” She placed them on the table in the foyer before turning back to the porch and closing the door behind her. She locked the door and put her hand in the crook of Cory’s elbow as he walked her to the car.

“Oh. You have Erin’s car tonight?” she asked, surprised.

Cory opened her door as he said, “Hers is better suited for our evening, so she agreed to trade with me.” He helped her into her seat and eyed her thigh as her black skirt rode up a little. He heard her giggle and looked up to see that she had seen him looking. “I can’t help it, Vanessa. You’re very beautiful.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t wear it to keep you from looking.” She smiled at him before facing the front. He closed the door and went to the driver’s side.

As he drove, they talked about their day. Cory told her about the decreasing workload that still kept him busy, but that he could see the light at the end of the stack of boxes, so to speak. Vanessa told him about a couple of big deals she was trying to land, which would mean very big bonuses.

Twenty minutes later, they turned down Morgan Boulevard to blend in with Friday evening traffic, which was a mix of people getting off work and people going out to relax. Cory figured this was as good a time as any.

“Vanessa, I need to tell you that our first date was great, but it will be pretty rare. I don’t have the money to do that very often, as much as I think you’re worth it. So tonight you’ll get more of a taste of what I can do regularly.”

“Good! I’m excited just to spend time with you. I have my own money, Cory. I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m glad I’m getting to see what our time together will be like. And if it’s okay with you, there will be times that I want to be the one to pay for our dates. I want to be able to surprise you sometimes, too. Okay?” She placed her hand on his arm.

He nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

Cory pulled into one of the middle-of-the-road chain restaurants that had a mix of families and couples, knowing that the two of them could get out for about $40. They enjoyed their meal and talked and laughed, both of them sharing some of their embarrassing stories that neither of them had shared, and they genuinely drew closer. They walked hand in hand to the car and he again opened her door. This time she intentionally hiked her skirt up a little bit, giving him another few inches to look at. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

They didn’t have to travel far, just past the mall and the movie theater to get to their next destination.

“No we’re not,” Vanessa laughed, covering her mouth. “I haven’t done this in years!”

“I thought it would be fun. As long as you don’t mind losing.”

“Prepare to have your butt kicked by an old lady.”

“Did you say you were going to kiss my butt? That’s what I heard.”

She slapped him on the arm and laughed before opening the door. He met her on the other side and took her hand before walking with her to the little wooden hut with the skull and crossbones on it.

“Ahoy, matey,” muttered the unenthused teen in the pirate hat. “Welcome to Jolly Roger’s. Are you a member of our pirate crew?”

“Uh, no,” Cory laughed, Vanessa laughing with him, trying to stifle it for the sake of the poor kid who had to wear that hat and say, “Ahoy, matey.” “Just two single rounds please.”

Vanessa picked up two rubber putters and two balls out of the basket on the counter while Cory paid for their rounds. They walked past the “Buccaneers” and “Wenches” bathrooms to the wooden sign that pointed left to “Spanish Main” and right to “Flying Dutchman”. Vanessa pointed left. At the first tee there was a skeleton sitting propped against the rocks with a sign listing four rules hanging around his neck.

“Ladies first,” Cory prompted. Vanessa handed him one putter and a pink golf ball. “Pink? Seriously?” he asked with a laugh.

I left home because of mother. Why? Because from the time I was fourteen I’d fallen in love with her, or put more bluntly, I wanted to fuck her. Living with her meant a constantly high level of sexual frustration and I thought that one day, in an unguarded moment, I might do or say something that would reveal my secret lust.

At the time of my leaving home mother was of course in her early forties, but this had done nothing to diminish what I think of as her allure. Tall, with dark hair and eyes to match, she had an athletic figure, but she was not what might be called beautiful; her nose and jaw were too emphatic, and because swimming was her favourite exercise her shoulders were broad and her limbs muscular; and such strongly built women are not always attractive to a lot of men.

And yet mother did attract men and it took until I was in my teen years to work out why. She had a striking presence and it was as if the way she stood, walked, sat and talked conveyed a challenging carnal message, but there was more to it than that.

At any social gathering men sought her company and I came to understand only too well why she drew men, including me, to her. She exuded a palpable sexual fragrance like musk oil, but more intoxicating than any perfume. I sometimes wondered if it would ever fade, and decided, it never would. She was one of those rare women who even in old age would still radiate sex appeal.

My father didn’t seem to mind the way mother drew men to her, in fact he seemed to revel in it because he had what they all wanted, and I’m as sure as I can be that mother was never unfaithful to him.

* * * * * * * *

At age twenty two I graduated from the university BA (Hon). The plan had been for me to go on to further studies, but instead I applied for and got a job with the Government of Victoria. That I thought would get me well away from Adelaide and South Australia and consequently away from mother and temptation.

When I announced that I was leaving there was a hell of an argument with father and mother; “Your ruining your whole future,” and stuff like that. I didn’t reveal my main reason for leaving home, instead proclaiming my need for independence, striking out on my own, and getting life experience.

I had read that sons are often sexually attracted to their mothers but it also said that this will pass “When a more appropriate sex object enters the life of the young man.” Well, I’d experienced several “appropriate sex” objects and they’d done nothing to quell my hankering for mother.

And so I left home with father’s admonitions still ringing in my ears and the memory of mother’s tears, little realising what lay ahead.

A couple of weeks after I started the job I struck it lucky. Theresa, a widow in her late forties and the mother of five children all of whom had left home, and she worked in the same department as me. She took a fancy to me. She was a pleasantly plump and full breasted lady, and a few lunches together and then dinner at her place led very quickly to being in bed with her and my penis in her vagina. As a result of this encounter I changed lodgings and lived with Theresa.

My previous sexual experiences had been with girls my own age, but now I discovered the pleasures of sex with an older woman. For a start condoms had always been involved in my previous sexual experiences, but as Theresa said, “I’m past the age of child bearing so we can have it raw.” It was great; I could really feel her vagina and its wetness, and there was something special about knowing that my sperm was really going into her. I learned a lot of things about what a woman likes, and in fact she insisted on us doing things I’d never even thought about before.

I can remember the first time we had sex; we stood in her bedroom naked looking at each other when Theresa, looking at my erect penis said, “My word, you re a big boy.”

I suppose that in general I am fairly well built and muscular since I’d followed in mother’s exercise footsteps, swimming, and so at first I took Theresa’s comment to be about my general appearance, which was flattering. It was only as I penetrated her vagina with my penis that she made it clear that her “big boy” comment had referred to the size of my penis.

I had never considered it to be overly large, not having made comparisons with other penises, but as I penetrated deep into Theresa she moaned, “Oh my God, Adrian, I’ve never had one so big in me before.” That was also flattering in a way, and it was also another learning experience.

We weren’t in love; we were a couple of people who were meeting each others sexual needs and enjoying it. Right from the start Theresa had pointed out that one day I’d probably want to get married and have kids, and she certainly couldn’t provide the latter. “So let’s enjoy ourselves while we can,” she said, “and when it’s over we’ll have happy memories of our time together. “Mind you,” she added, “I’ll always envy the girl who gets your cock in her vagina.”

Well, she was right, I certainly enjoyed myself, and I can now say that I do have happy memories of sexually voracious Theresa, who among other things had a penchant for consuming the male organ and its glutinous discharge.

I’ve sometimes wondered if her late husband’s demise had been because of Theresa’s ravenous sexual appetite.

* * * * * * * *

Despite my good times with Theresa it was still my mother that I craved. I suppose the difference was that I wasn’t in love with Theresa, but I was in love with my mother.

Having made the move away from her and home I only visited home once during that first year, and that was something I was going to come to regret.

A couple of years before I left home I’d noticed that father seemed to be having difficulties breathing and in the morning I could hear him coughing painfully in the bathroom. When I asked what the trouble was I was told, “It’s just a touch of bronchitis.” I should have known I was being fobbed off.

During that one visit home I noticed that father’s cough had got even worse and he had lost weight and the slightest physical effort seemed to exhaust him, and he had always been a physically well set up man and very active. Despite this I still didn’t realise just how sick he was, but that seemed to be the way in our family, we never made much of sickness, but if it was bronchitis it had to be the longest bout in human history.

Full realisation only came when one evening mother phoned me and said, “I think you’d better come home, your father is very sick and he’s in hospital;” For her to make such a call meant that there was something very seriously wrong with father.

I managed to get an early morning flight to Adelaide and took a taxi from the airport to our place in Walkerville, to be met by mother who was utterly distraught. I had arrived too late, father was dead.

What I learned was that the so-called bronchitis had in fact been emphysema; an abscess had formed in his lungs and burst, and before any antibiotics could take affect, he died.

Mother seemed to be in a lost world so it was left to me to organise and deal with the funeral administrivia. The service took place at the Enfield Crematorium and during the service mother clung to me as she gazed unbelievingly at the coffin as if somehow father wasn’t really in there. She remained like that until the coffin passed out of sight on its way to its fiery end.

During the wake that followed mother was locked into a world of grief, and it was only after the mourners, friends and relatives had finally departed that she began to come out of this cloud of misery sufficiently to talk.

Grieving myself, and feeling guilty that I hadn’t recognised earlier my father’s condition, I had to be mother’s comforter. During the rest of my stay I often sat holding her for long periods of time as in a monotonic voice she went over and over the events leading up to father’s death, and interspersing this with memories of their life together.

It was as she dwelt on past memories that I heard a lot of things that I’d only previously guessed at. Mother’s guard was down and she went so far as to talk about her sex life with father, which she implied involved sexual intercourse every night until he started to get sick. I must admit that as a kid I’d wondered what the noises were that had emanated nightly from my parent’s bedroom.

Again and again as she sadly reminisced she said, “I’ve lost half my life, and there’ll never be anyone to replace Jack” — my father’s name. I wondered about this because a woman who had been so sexually active surely must in the end seek someone who could satisfy her need. I certainly knew of one person who would happily fix what I thought must be her overactive sex drive; namely, me.

I’d often wondered if mother had detected my sexual feelings for her, and towards the end of my stay with her she started to talk about how close we were, and she knew that I loved her, and to my dismay she even hinted that she knew why I had left home.

The time I could spend with her was limited. I had to return to work, but before I left mother appealed to me to come back home to stay. I knew that now father was dead mother was more vulnerable, or perhaps it as me who was more vulnerable. If I lived alone with mother I might give in to temptation, and I thought this would lead to disaster as far as my future relationship with mother was concerned.

I came up with my old excuse about being independent, but as mother said goodbye to me at the airport I nearly relented. She clung to me weeping and that musk aroma was very noticeable, and she kissed me as if we were two lovers parting and I boarded the aircraft trying to hide a heart pulsating erection.

Throughout that flight back to Melbourne I wondered if I’d thrown away a golden opportunity to at last make love with mother, but I knew that sometimes people when they are bereaved can become incredibly sexually aroused as they seek solace. It’s as if one emotion flows into another, and I wasn’t ready to take advantage of such a situation.

I returned to Theresa who having been bereaved herself didn’t try the talk fest and simply let me talk and make love with her. I must say that the sex did help to assuage my grief and I started to get things in perspective.

* * * * * * * *

During the following year I made a point of visiting mother at weekends at least once a month, flying over simply to see how she was going. I could never be sure what sort of mood I would find her in, but whatever her mood she was incredibly clingy. This made things difficult for me because despite my sex life with Theresa, mother was the woman I really wanted.

Things seemed to level out towards the end of the first year after father’s funeral. The story was that mother had met dad while she was studying at university. They had fallen in love and mother became pregnant and they got married. This was no news to me because in going through my father’s papers I had found my birth certificate and my parent’s marriage certificate. The consequence had been that mother had given up university.

Now mother was thinking about resuming university studies as a mature age student. This was a good sign as far as I was concerned; mother wanting to pick up her life again, and I did all I could to encourage her. She was after all in a financial position to not have to work, a position, I thought rather ruefully, that I might have been in if I hadn’t chosen to leave home.

It was during a telephone conversation with mother that she announced that she’d made up her mind and would go ahead with studies. She went on to say that it was some time before the new academic year was due to start, and she suggested that we spend some time together at the house on Kangaroo Island.

The house had been a gift from my father to my mother not long after they got married. Situated on the North West corner of Kangaroo Island, isolated and somewhat dramatically poised on the top of a cliff, we had spent many holidays there, although we hadn’t been there for nearly three years. I think that had to do with my father’s encroaching sickness, but when we weren’t using it we sometimes rented it out.

Below the house is an inlet created by the cliffs that curved round to form a narrow outlet to the sea beyond, and at the bottom of a track down the cliffs is a small beach.

My immediate response to mother’s suggestion was negative, not a good idea, because if mother lived up to her past mode of dress when at the house, which to say the least was distinctly casual, I knew I would be in for a throbbingly erect penis for most of our stay.

I reluctantly changed my mind when mother, somewhat reproachfully, said that we hadn’t had much time together ever since I’d left home, and this might be our last chance to be together for some time. She obviously hadn’t counted the time I spent with her after father’s funeral, but I let that pass.

I had some leave owing to me but when it came to agreeing how much time we would spend on the island some negotiating took place. Mother wanted a month but we finally agreed on a fortnight. I must admit that I had in mind my separation from Theresa who served as a sort of sexual safety valve for my demanding libido.

* * * * * * * *

The day before we were due to leave for the island I flew into Adelaide and was met by mother driving the four by four. She greeted me with unexpected exuberance and a close embrace that nearly took my breath away. The last time I had seen her she had been somewhat pale faced and wilting, but now she seemed to have recovered much of her allure and there was that faint aroma of musk about her.

She seemed to be very excited and at the same time tense, and that embrace and the kiss she gave me went on longer than might be expected of a mother and son airport greeting. When it ended I noticed some nearby people looking at us and grinning.

On the drive home mother chattered incessantly and this was not her normal way. I was wondering if she was suppressing some exciting news until we got home, but when we got there no such news was forthcoming. She made a great deal of fuss over me and I couldn’t recall ever seeing her like this before.

Mother had made all the necessary preparations for our time on the island and early next morning we were on our way to Cape Jarvis and the ferry that would take us across to Penneshaw. From there we drove west on a bitumen road until we turned off on to a dirt road. A few kilometres along this road we came to a gate. I opened it and mother drove through, and then we were lurching along a rough track for about fifteen minutes until we reached the house.

Our arrival seemed to be a bit of an anti-climax and we spent the rest of the day stowing our gear and supplies, sweeping up dust and cobwebs and searching for signs of any invading rodents, and by late evening making vague plans for the next day.

That night I was restless. Being in an isolated place and alone with mother seemed somehow to be different from being at our Walkerville place. My mind focussed on mother in the bedroom next to mine: was she asleep or as she awake and thinking of the times she had shared the bed with father? What was she wearing or did she like me sleep naked? What would she do if I tried to take my father’s place in that bed?

I had no Theresa to alleviate my sexual need and so I did what I hadn’t done for a long time, I masturbated. As I ejaculated it was not Theresa I fantasised, but mother, and when I finally slept I dreamed of making love with mother, but always when I was about to penetrate her vagina with my penis she faded away.

When I woke in the morning I could hear mother already moving around. Mother, in her usual organised way, had opted to do some more tidying up, while I, less concerned with household order, went fishing.

It was a warm day with the promise of becoming hot later. I went to a ledge along the cliffs that was close to the water where father and I had often fished when I was a kid. We had usually had a good catch, but now, after a couple of hours I’d caught just one leatherjacket which I threw back.

Bored with my fruitless efforts I decided to return to the house to see if mother was ready to go for a swim, going by way of the beach. As I approached the beach I saw that mother had deserted her household chores and was lying on an air mattress with a cushion under her head. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep.

Drawing close to her I felt my penis lurch and start to harden. Mother was wearing a pair of very tight shorts and a close fitting t-shirt. Beneath the t-shirt the swell of mother’s breasts clearly indicated that they were unrestrained, rising and falling as she breathed evenly.

Her shorts exposed her long legs with their firm thighs, and where the material of the shorts passed under mother’s crotch it seemed to sink into the groove formed by the clearly defined lips of her vulva, and I thought I saw a faint wetness staining the cloth.

I stood looking down at her, aching to penetrate that holy delta at the top of her thighs. Her eyes fluttered open and came to focus on me. She smiled and said, “I must have fallen asleep.”

I guessed that the wet stain on her shorts indicated she’d had an erotic dream, and so I asked, “Sweet dreams?”

She looked startled and the hesitantly said, “Yes…yes very sweet,” and for a moment she touched her groin and then hastily stood, her face flushing pink. I think she had detected the wet patch and was embarrassed by what it might reveal of her emotional state, but she couldn’t hide her feelings because that musk fragrance was more potent than ever and I knew what it meant, and with every movement her breasts shimmied like a firm blancmange.

There seemed to be an electric tension between us, a question unasked, a desire unexpressed. I had my own source of embarrassment; my erect penis was moulded by the cloth of my shorts, and I could feel my urethra weeping precum. For a moment I thought we were going to kiss, but mother breached the silence.

“Did…did you catch anything?” mother asked in an unsteady voice, as if to distract us from the strained atmosphere that surrounded us.

“No,” I said, and then dropped down on to the vacated air mattress, lying face down to hide my throbbing erection.

Mother hesitated and I could feel her eyes on me as she said, “I’ll go up to the house and prepare lunch, are you coming?”

I was very close to coming, but not in the sense she meant. “No,” I said, “I’ll stay here for a while, just give me a call.”

I watched mother start to make her way up the track, and when she got about half way she stopped, turned, and briefly looked down at me. She looked superb, her figure like a goddess of fantasy, perhaps Juno. I recalled that Juno was married to Jupiter and was at the same time his sister; an incestuous relationship!

Mother turned and continued up the track, my eyes focused on her high firm buttocks until she disappeared into the house. I wanted her as I’d never wanted anything before in my life, and I wondered if I had again passed up the opportunity to fulfil this craving for her.

Mother called me for lunch from the top of the cliff and I made my way up as mother stood watching me for a few moments. I noticed she’d changed her shorts and I supposed I’d been right about mother having an erotic dream on the beach. I wondered who had been present in that dream.

The charged atmosphere between us continued, our conversation desultory, it was as if we both expected something to happen between us, but neither willing to make the move that would initiate that something. I thought I knew what that something was, but was afraid that if I took the step I might be wrong and I would shatter the relationship that I had with mother.

Hi my name is Eric and this is the story of how I wound up sharing a bed with my mother. It was early winter in New York and I came home from night school to find my mom crying over a pile of bills and an empty bottle of jack. We were being evicted, after my dad cheated on my mom a couple years ago he ran up a lot of credit card bills in my moms name. The debt finally caught up with us we had already sold all of the nice furniture, and appliances.

I arrived at the apartment building that my mom wanted us to check out. All that was available was a studio apartment on the top floor. “We wont have much room here but can you bare it sweetie?” my mom asked.

“Of course mom,” I answered

“We’ll take it!” my mom told the realtor

We moved into the apartment, all we had was a mattress with no box spring, a small reclining chair, a little 24 inch television, a fridge and a micro wave, a tiny bath room with a nice shower in fact it was almost the only nice thing in the apartment along with one tiny space heater that barely kept anything warm.

I came home to find my mom sitting on the bed and watching the television in a t-shirt and checkered pajama pants.

“Hey mom, whats up,” I said

“I’m stressing out about this move,” she said to me in an worried voice

“Like what?” I asked

“Like where are you gonna sleep I totally forgot we could only afford one bed,” she explained

“I’ll sleep in the chair mom its fine,” I replied. Even though I would much rather share a bed with her

That night my mom was getting ready for bed when she realized we only had one blanket in this freezing cold apartment. “Baby come lay down in the bed its okay” my mom said to me motioning with her hand, here I was at 19 years old crawling into a double bed with my mom like a kid again. “There’s only one blanket so you’ll have to get close, you don’t mind cuddling with mom just like old times right,” she said with a giggle.

“No mom I’d love to,”I crawled up along side my mom and got under the blanket. Then I heard the heater slow to a stop, “crap,” I exclaimed, the cold began to set in. The blanket was barely helping. I started moving closer to my mom until was up against her back, I put my arm around her waist and pulled myself tight up against her I began to feel warmer as we exchanged body heat.

My mom moved around under the covers, her butt was rubbing up against my crotch, her cheeks were fantastic they were like warm soft clouds running along me. It was then when a thought began to creep into my head. I was sleeping next to my mom and I started to notice, how sexy she was. My mom was a hot brunette at the age of thirty-six she still had a smoking body she was five feet and eight inches tall, with nice D cup breasts, her ass was perfect, and her legs were amazingly hot. It brought me back to when I was going through puberty and I was attracted to my mother, I used to imagine fucking her.

I hadn’t held a girl like this since my ex-girlfriend. I started getting an erection, I felt It pressing between my moms smooth ass cheeks. I slid my hand slightly down her stomach to just above her pussy, my erection grew as it pressed through my boxers, my head was pushing against her pussy lips. Her lips were so wet and I could feel my tip sliding around in the juices. My mom let out a little moan, she moved slightly away from me I was afraid she had felt my boner poking her. So I pushed it down between my legs and fell asleep I had a test tomorrow on Friday after that I had the whole weekend to relax.

The next day I got home and my mom was drinking in the kitchen she wasn’t drunk but she had had a few drinks. We sat around and watched movies for a while, She looked amazing I thought about the night before, about her soaking wet lips and how badly I wanted to fill her with my cock. When she was getting ready for bed I saw her go into the bathroom, she came out in a small tank top and a pair of my boxers.

“I hope you don’t mind sweetie pie I’m out of underwear,” she told me

“No its fine mom you look good,” I replied

“Thank you,” she said with a devilish grin as she got under the covers. I crawled under the covers in my t-shirt and boxers. My mom got settled under the cover and took off her bra and laid it on the floor next to the bed I watched as her massive tits were set free from her oppressive bra. “You don’t care do you sweetie Its just us?” she asked.

“No its fine,” I answered, I wasn’t planning on stopping her she looked gorgeous with her long hair draped down onto her tits. She crawled down and pulled the covers up to her neck.

“brr I’m freezing baby could you hold me like you did last night?” my mom asked

“Sure,” I said. I cautiously slid up beside my mom and wrapped my arm around her. She was turning me on way too much, My own mom was like some celebrity crush.

It began to get very warm under the blanket. “phew its getting warm you don’t mind if I take off these do you?” she asked as she pulled on the boxers she was wearing. I shook my head, she slowly slid the boxers down over her ass cheeks and off her ankles she threw it beside her bra. Then she pulled me back up against her.

I started to slide my boxers slowly off “mom um can I take mine off?” I asked my mom, she put them on the floor by the pair she was wearing. I watched television with my mom for a while.

I slid up my pillows a little bit to readjust as I did my hand that was cupped around my moms stomach slid across her right breast through her tank top.

“Baby, what are you doing?” she gasped

“nothing mom it was an accident I’m so sorry!” I replied as I pulled my hand away from her

“It’s okay honey come back over here,” she said as she pulled me back up against her. A few minutes later I felt her hand come down and rest on top of mine, she guided my hand up under her tank top and just below her tits, “put your hand here it’ll help you hold me a bit closer,” she explained. It was getting hard to control myself and I could feel my cock growing. “Here now you can hold me as tight as possible,” she said as she guided my hand up under her arm and between her large tits.

“We’re both adults here I can take off my tank top right?” she asked as she looked back at me

“Yea but only if I can take my shirt off,” I answered, she just smiled at me and sat up and took off her tank top, her massive tits came slowly out from under the shroud of her tank top, I was no longer looking at nipples through a thin tank top, I could see my own mothers massive breasts right beside me.I took off my t-shirt and laid it down beside the bed without taking an eye off my mother amazing breasts.

“well don’t stare!” she exclaimed at me watching as I eye balled her sexy tits. She grabbed my hand and she laid back on her side both of us now butt naked she returned my hand in between her large boobs and pulled me tight up against her smooth skin. Here I was lying with my naked mother who I’m pretty sure was putting the moves on me, my only issue was the fact that she was my mother, I was extremely attracted to her. So I just went with it. The sexual tension was thick, I felt her beautiful skin up against me it made me helpless my mom had seduced me. I couldn’t stop myself, My cock grew and pressed against her ass she adjusted herself so that my dick laid between her legs the top of it against her pussy. She pushed down against my dick and let out a small moan, I could feel her juices flowing onto my cock. I pressed harder and my head slipped close to her hole.

My mom moved my hand up onto her boob and squeezed our hands on it, she let out a soft moan. “Ooh son,” she whispered softly after another squeeze.

“Mom I…”

“shh quiet sweetie were just cuddling, now cuddle your mommy like you mean it,” she said

“Do you like cuddling your mommy sweetie?” my mother asked in a seductive voice

“I love it mommy,” I said to her

“Yea call me mommy more son,”

“Oh mommy your titties feel so good,” I moaned in her ear

“Yea baby you like your momma’s big tits don’t you?” my mother asked with a loud moan. I stopped and looked at my mom.

“Mom I’ve wanted to be with you for so long, I have a little bit of a crush on you, you’re so beautiful mom and I want you to be mine!” I told my mother as I ran my fingers along her neck and through her hair.

“Eric I’ll be yours forever, and you’ll always be my little boy,” my mother replied. She looked at me and leaned in for a kiss our lips touched for what seemed like forever. We made out for a while feeling each other and kissing all over. I began kissing my way down my mom’s body until I reached her crotch, I licked her thighs and gently guided my tongue along her tight pussy lips. “Sorry mommy hasn’t shaved lately,” she said as my tongue ran across her sexy brunette bush.

“Its fine mommy I like it you have a gorgeous pussy,” I told my mom as I guided my hand over her smooth pubes

“Excuse you young man Its called a vagina,” she said in a sarcastic tone

“Damn mommy you’re hot when you boss me around,” I replied

“Yea you like when I tell you what to do?” she asked in a very sexy voice.

“Can I please eat out your vagina mom?” I asked before giving her a kiss on her pussy lips.

“Yes you may if you ask correctly, whats my name?” my mother asked looking very intently into my eyes.

“Can I please eat your vagina Shirley?” I asked giving her what ever she wanted as long as I could taste the juices building in her hot pussy. I slid my tongue all over my mothers clitoris, she moaned as she ran her fingers across my short cut hair. I began licking around her hole, I shoved my tounge in quickly reaching it around every inch of her pussy she began moaning.

“Oh Eric eat your mother’s cunt!” she moaned. I felt her pussy pulsing as her cum flew from her like a fountain, I moved up to her and began making out with her again.

“Mom your pussy is amazing!” I exclaimed. I pressed my hard cock against her wet pussy lips. It pressed it in slowly.

“Baby go slow you’re only the second man I’ve been with ever so I’m very tight,” my mother explained I couldn’t believe my father was the only other person to fuck my mother. My head pressed slowly against my mother’s fine pussy, she moaned loudly as she grasped the covers, I pressed my head against her hole spreading it around my cock.

“Baby give it to your mommy!” she begged. I began feeding all 6 inches of my hard dick into my mothers wet vagina her juices worked as an amazing lubricant. “Oh Eric you feel so good, give me that young dick!” my mom commanded as I began thrusting into her.

“Ooh mom, you like my dick inside you?” I asked my mother.

“Say my name when you’re fucking me bitch…” my mom yelled at me I paused and looked at her.

“mommy doesn’t mean that it just turns me on when my baby boy calls me by my name,” she said to me as she kissed my neck.

“Shirley you’re cunt feels so tight, you feel like a virgin,” I said to my mother as I plowed into her dripping pussy. I started going deep into my mother her nails dug into my back, but the pain only made me hump harder.

“Eric fuck baby… I’m gonna cum!” my mom cooed as I rammed my hard dick into her. I felt her pussy tighten around my cock as she came, she ran her tongue all over mine as we kissed. I felt her virgin like pussy grab around my cock like a vice grip, she wrapped her legs tight around me with a loud moan she returned to normal with an amazingly pleased expression.

“baby that’s just what momma needed,” she said as she caught her breath.

“Now mommy is gonna make you cum,” my mother said as she rolled me off her and mounted me she slowly slid down my body kissing me all over, she sank bellow the covers and began kissing my hard dick. She ran her tongue all around my head, the she started forcing more and more of my dick into her mouth I felt my dick touching the back of her mouth she pushed it further until it was going down her throat. She let my dick out of her mouth as she gasped for air.

“Oh Shirley your mouth feels so good!” I said to my mother as she began licking up my dick.

“Yea does my boy like it when I go deep on his big dick?” my mom said in a very sexy voice. She started licking my balls and sucking on them, she returned to my cock and began going as deep as she could I could feel her again and again one minute her lips were on the tip of my dick and the next they where wrapped around the base. I could feel my cum rising to my tip I alerted my mother she sat up from under the covers and opened wide, I stood over her and grabbed hold of my dick.

“Cum in your mommy’s mouth son, cum for mommy!” she yelled at me, she was licking my balls as I jerked my cock.

“Mom, oh mom yes here it comes!” I said holding back groans of pleasure. Right as I said that my mother became an animal she began sucking my dick wildly I grabbed hold of her sexy brunette hair and began skull fucking her I shot my load at the back of her warm throat she moaned with my dick shoved fully into her mouth. She pulled it out and milked the last few drops licking them slowly from the tip of my cock.

“Mom I love you so much,” I told my beautiful mother as we collapsed to the bed.

“I love you to sweetie you are the best son in the whole world!” she declared as she nuzzled up into my arms.

“This isn’t the only time we can do this right mom?” I asked my mother as I caressed her silky hair.

“Of course not baby, I want you to be mine and that means no fucking any other girls, am I clear,” my mother stated.

“I promise mom, wait does that mean were dating then?” I asked my mom, she rolled over to look at me.

“Is that what you want son, for mommy to be your girlfriend?”

“Is that okay with you?” I asked her.

“Yes but I want you to ask the right way honey,”

“Mom… I mean Shirley will you be my girlfriend?” I asked my butt naked mother as I rubbed my hand along her back and smooth ass.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” she exclaimed.

To be continued…

Please comment any suggestions for part two.

When Lisa first shared her story with me and approved my initial write-up (posted eight years ago under different screen name), many have asked about the rest of her story. After the first posting, Lisa made some additional suggestions (adding more titillating details) that led to a revision and improvements. The first three chapters will help remind previous fans and familiarize new readers with her story, before adding the rest of the story.

The reader is invited to fully experience this erotic adventure in its entirety, not letting the length dissuade. Just as it takes time and patience to overcome barriers to incestuous relating, so also it takes time to describe the seduction. Those willing to savor the slow voyeuristic seduction will find the eventual climax that much more fulfilling and satisfying.

A dark form slowly moved toward me, then suddenly was kneeling over me. The sense of foreboding mixed with inexplicable feelings of excitement and anticipation was overwhelming as I lay there. Vainly I tried to move, but remained paralyzed, barely able to breathe. My throat tightened as I felt the pounding in my chest. I was sliding into a panic—or was I? Somehow it felt different. Hands clasped my breasts, gently massaging. The violation was so wrong, while feelings of pleasure that coursed through me seemed even worse. The hands began moving up my legs, higher and higher, grazing the inside of my thighs until…I gasped, waking with a start.

As I lay there in a cold sweat, panting in the dark, I flashed on my eighteenth birthday the previous day. It was miserable day, leading to an early bedtime. But why had I dreamed about such a…Suddenly I became aware of my own hands buried in forbidden territory. I let them linger—only briefly—as I came to my senses and quickly pulled away. What was I doing? The Promise; it was pervasive and overwhelming. Would it always be this way?

I might never have made that promise years ago had I fully understood the implications. Most would say it was a crazy commitment made in the ignorance and idealism of youth. I was acceding to the wishes of my dying mother—hardly something I should be held to. Promising to keep my passions in check during my teens was unrealistic, to say the least. But against all odds, my love for Mom had me honor that promise as I waited for its fulfillment.

I never tire of reliving those early years, including the very painful times, keeping Mom alive within me. Only in later years did I come to understand that the exhilaration of the mountain-top experience is only possible after passing through valley of significant pain. At the time, denying pleasure seemed like a pointless exercise. I never dreamed it would set the stage for my loving family and friends helping to unleash an overwhelming torrent of pleasure.

The newness and excitement of discovering passions—first forbidden, then welcomed—provided experiences that were indelibly imprinted, never to be forgotten. I can still vividly recall those images and conversations that lead to the first and most intense sexual experiences of my life. This set the stage for a lifetime of erotic adventures few can even imagine, leading to sharing with you my story of how it all began.

I had just turned 18 and was amazingly sexually naïve at the time. That was obvious, since I was still a virgin and hadn’t even dated. No, it wasn’t that I was ugly or lacked opportunities. But I wasn’t open to this, having sealed off that area of my life—assuring myself that it was unnecessary. I was in full control, honoring the promise I made, and believed I was not subject to the usual urges of teens. However, my confidence was an illusion. I was unaware of the volcano of sexual energy and tension buried within, or the torrent of insatiable passion that would erupt to play out in the coming year.

I certainly had no inkling of this on my birthday. I remember thinking that it was one of the saddest days of my life. My mom had died almost four years previous and I was still grieving the loss. The notion of experiencing pleasure in any endeavor was absent—a gnawing void—making the refusal to date an easy choice.

I continued to live for my mother, throwing myself into studies with a fervor that bordered on an obsession. As I turned 18 and thought about my future, I suddenly questioned what I was about. I realized there was no one I was close to, no one to invite to a celebration and nothing to really celebrate. As I sat staring out my bedroom window, I thought back, reflecting on how I had come to be so very alone.

It certainly wasn’t always that way. I had several friends in grade-school and was especially close to Rick, a boy two years my senior, who lived nearby. Admittedly, being close with a guy in grade-school was unusual. However, our parents were best friends, making it inevitable that two only children would become more like brother and sister. Our families were always together at each others’ houses, and we’d often vacation together. Both our parents were in mixed marriages, and dealing with the inevitable southern prejudice had us all pulling together.

There were also times when our parents said they needed adult time, and would leave us with sitters, while the four of them took off somewhere. Rick and I would play together for hours with board games, hide-and-seek and make-believe. We enjoyed those magical years during when senses are rewarded and the pain accompanying reason and logic has not yet broken through.

But my storybook life abruptly ended with Mom’s terminal illness. It was thankfully brief, as her suffering was often unbearable. I say that now, but at the time I selfishly wanted it prolonged, trying to capture every moment I could with her. Looking back, the radical turn my life took was a rude awakening from the prolonged carefree innocence of childhood, prematurely forcing me into the painful reality of an adult child.

Mom’s all-encompassing loving and open style played out in the way she approached her death. As much as she wanted to shelter me from her ordeal, she knew that this would only serve her own needs, not mine. In the long run, attempting to cushion my pain would only prolong and intensify it. Accordingly, I learned that she was dying soon after she and Dad were told the devastating news. Over the few remaining months, we shared long talks—about our times together, her death and my life that would follow.

No topic was off limits, including that all-important discussion of sex and my growth into womanhood. She openly spoke of how she had enjoyed many wonderful sexual experiences in her life and wanted the same for me. She attributed her sexual pleasure mainly to the quality of her early experiences which she related to two things: waiting for sex until she was more mature and having a skilled and caring lover for those first times.

She said that Daddy was a very unique man, making it very special, as he always put her needs and pleasure first. This gave her confidence in her sexuality and formed the foundation for wonderful erotic experiences during the remainder of her life. Mom told me she wanted to ensure that I would gain the complete fulfillment of passions that few women enjoy, the pleasures that she experienced.

My parents were very committed to providing an environment that would foster the development of healthy sexual attitudes, leading to positive experiences in the future. They said that the media trivialized and cheapened sex, simply using it for their own economic gain. They believed that the casual and blatant exposure of children to sexual material at an early age was like trying to open a rose before its time, feeling that it took away from the novelty and mystery of erotic exploration and discovery in later years.

They also felt that these early influences by the media played out later in life, producing adults who were limited by what they had seen and heard, leaving them bound by beliefs, morals and stereotypes that were often limiting and fallacious. It often left others with unrealistic expectations, along with limited skills and abilities in their sexual behavior. They were left bound by the need to model distortions they had learned early on.

They suggested that this would likely lead to ho-hum sex at best, or painful experiences at worst, as people lacked the capacity for imagination and experimentation that was so essential to sexual fulfillment. Rather than risking unique, individual erotic pursuits, they were limited—bound and molded by influences in the early years. This was so stultifying and stifling that they often lost the God-given creative imagination and energy that was intended, limiting what Mom said was our most erotic organ—the mind.

They wanted me to grow up free of the usual preconceptions, prejudices and judgments about sex, completely open to anything and everything—a unique and authentic individual, willing and able to pursue and realize my full sexual potential on my own terms. That meant keeping me unsullied by the usual influences that would instill preconceptions and stereotypes.

So my exposure to TV, radio and music was very limited, leaving me rather out of touch with my peers. At times, I resented my parents’ restrictions, especially as I got older. But this was tempered by my trust in Mom. She repeatedly reminded me that one day I would appreciate the rewards that came with the limits in my early years.

I recall her frail, thin hands holding mine as she gazed intently into my eyes. She was passionate in her desperate desire to imprint my fourteen-year-old mind with thoughts and values that would last long beyond the few months she had left.

“Listen, Lisa; I know it’s hard to be different from the other kids,” she said, “and it’s going to get even harder as you grow older. But being successful at anything usually involves a great deal of patience and self-discipline.

“Most women have lousy sexual experiences the first few times and many never move beyond this. They learn to simply go through the motions, doing little while expecting even less. They become inhibited, unwilling or unable to explore and experiment with their erotic passions. And no wonder; they have little basis for believing sex could bring them much pleasure. Instead, over time, they become walled off from their passions, automatically programmed to think of sex as a duty or obligation to pleasure their man. Being unable to tap into their own pleasure, they often learn to use sex as a tool for power, control and manipulation to meet needs unrelated to sex. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” I replied, “but I thought women liked sex too.”

“Well, many women learn to enjoy the closeness that comes with sex. In later years, with maturation, some may even learn to gain some erotic pleasure for themselves. But very few are ever able to fully open up and let go to the extent that is possible; few will try new adventures or gain those peak sexual experiences. This is only possible when we abandon ourselves, giving up on maintaining the image of what is considered deceit, proper or civilized— allowing wild erotic fulfillment to take precedence.”

Through sunken sockets, her eyes flashed with excitement as she continued. “You can only experience what is possible through complete abandonment, dropping all inhibitions as you let the primitive animal inside take over. Only then can a woman’s wild erotic beauty come out. I know you can’t understand this now, but you’re simply going to have to take my word for it. Just know that if you want to be like the other girls, it comes at a price. If you share in their teen sexual experimentation now, you will likely share their ho-hum sex life in the future.”

“But Mom, it seems like protecting me from things will make me more inhibited, not less,” I countered, feeling rather confused. “I know from what kids say that there’s a lot of sex stuff on TV, and they know a lot more about those things than I know. So it seems like they’ll be ahead of me on this.”

“It does seem that way, but exposure to sex when kids aren’t ready is very damaging,” she continued. “On TV sex is often portrayed as a naughty act that, while enjoyable, is somehow wrong. As kids grow up they associate sex with other areas where they rebel, doing something bad and giving in to evil urges. As they get older, they believe that succumbing to passions is wrong and mature adults need to control themselves.”

“But isn’t self-control good?” I asked.

“To a point. But you can’t be fully in control and still enjoy sex the way God intended. Unfortunately, most adults associate erotic feelings with immorality—something to be resisted and controlled. Then they…”

“But why?” I interrupted. “Why would they go against what God intended?”

“It is confusing. Much of it is based on the church and their desire to control others and limit unwanted pregnancies before birth control. What’s crazy is that so many think that they are following what God wants, while often they are violating His Golden Rule, failing to openly give to others in loving ways, including the fulfillment of God-given passions.”

“That’s sad,” I observed.

“It really is. And society’s programming has often left many with an inability to drop their inhibitions, something that interferes with sexual fulfillment. We have to be willing to let go to experience the ecstasy that only comes with being open to anything and everything. So many still view the sexual abandonment of inhibitions as immoral and depraved, when the reality is that God’s created wonderful urges we unnecessarily suppress. I like to call it God’s Divine Depravity. And only by practicing His Golden Rule in all areas, including fulfillment of passions will we be able to learn that what others view as depraved is actual truly divine!”

“That does sound exciting,” I ventured, having little clue about what she was describing, as I was just starting pubescent development.

“It’s more than exciting, and one day you will come to understand just how thrilling it can be. Your father and I have had some wonderful times together, and we want the same for you. But that is only possible with discipline and patience—qualities that are in rare supply among teens who tend to demand instant gratification.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t disappoint you,” I assured.

“That’s easy to say now, honey. But you really have no idea what you’re agreeing to.” Mom chuckled softy, just as Dad walked into the room.

“And just what do you have our darling agreeing to?” he asked.

“You know—what we talked about,” Mom responded, smiling weakly up at him. “I was just telling her how she would learn to experience joy in sex just like we have.”

“Oh that.” Dad was obviously awkward, turning to leave as he said, “I think I’ll come back when you’ve finished.” While Dad was open with Mom, when it came to sexual discussions, the same did not extend to me.

“Hold on, Trey” Mom said. “You’re part of this too. If we’re going to continue protecting Lisa, you’ll have to step up and be more open with her. Soon she’s going to be experiencing overwhelming urges and it will be up to you to shield her from the usual negative influences. I won’t be around much longer.”

“I wished you wouldn’t talk like that,” I said, feeling tears well up.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she responded, taking my hand as Dad stood by awkwardly. “I wish to God you didn’t have to go through this. There’s so little time and so much I want for you—so much I need to tell you.”

“We’ll be OK, Mom,” I tried to reassure, feeling far less confident that I sounded as I reached for Dad’s hand. I sensed the need to be strong for both of them.

“Thank you, honey. But before we end this talk I need to make a request.”

“Sure, Mom—anything.”

“Your father and I want you to promise that you’ll wait for sex until you’re fully mature—not just physically but mentally and emotionally too.”

“Of course, Mom; but when will I know that I’m ready?”

“That’s different for each person,” she responded. “But later is better, since nowadays kids seem to mature more slowly.”

“Like after graduation?” I ventured.

“You’d promise that?….with all the pressures a pretty girl like you will have in high school?” Mom asked.

“Would that make you happy?”

“More than you know, darling. But it’s not about me; it’s about your life and your happiness. Trust me; the wait will be well worth it.”

“Then after graduation it is; I trust you and you can count on….”

“Wait; there’s one more thing,” Mom interrupted. “Your first time can’t be with just anyone. It has to be with the man you’ve come to trust more than anyone else in the world.”

“Of course,” I readily agreed, feeling confused by the second part of her request; it seemed so obvious.

“Trey, I’m depending on you to support her in this promise.”

“I will, Lynne. I will,” Dad agreed, squeezing my hand. “It’s a special part of your heritage that I’m sure she will learn to treasure. I’ll help her keep the commitment.”

“And….” Mom pushed.

“And what?”

“You know, honey…The rest; fulfilling the passion we both want for her.”

“Oh yeah. I-I….Well, don’t you think that will come naturally.” Dad suddenly seemed awkward, dropping my hand.

“No, honey. We can’t leave this to chance,” Mom said, reaching out to take his hand as she pulled him close. He leaned in as she whispered in his ear.

As she continued whispering, Dad kept shaking his head. “I don’t see how….”

“Please, honey,” Mom pushed, holding his head as she looked deeply into his eyes.

“But it’s…I mean, it seems so wrong, most would say, disgusting.”

“Depraved?” Mom smiled wanly, as she stroked his cheek. “Remember what the divine depravity brought us. How could we want anything less for our girl?”

“But honey,” Dad objected. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“It will be fine,” she assured, “as long you always remember the Golden Rule. Will you always treat Lisa the way you’d want to be treated?”

“Of course.”

“And the way I’d want to be treated,” she persisted.

“God! I don’t think you know what you’re asking. But I-I’ll try.” Dad shook his head in dismay.

“What are you guys talking about, and what’s with all the whispering?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Mom responded. “It’s just adult talk and you’ll understand when you’re older, won’t she honey?” She looked at Dad.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dad mumbled. “When you’re older, honey.”

“I wished I could see her experience and discover the rewards of her pledge. But you will have to be there for me…and her.”

“Oh Lynne.” Dad teared up.

“Don’t worry, dear.” Mom stroked his hand. “I know you’ll protect her. I just need to know that when the time comes, you’ll teach her, giving her special experiences that will lead to a life time of sensual pleasure as her promise kept allows passions to be fulfilled.”

“I-I…it’s just that…” Dad hesitated awkwardly looking down.

But mom persisted, taking both his hands, looking him directly in the eye. “You know what I’m asking, darling. You know what we’ve had, and what we want for Lisa. Please; promise me.”

“Alright,” he said, shaking his head as he silently continued to show his reservations. “I’ll try to ensure that she has the same opportunities that you’ve had.” I was still feeling rather confused about what Mom was asking.

Daddy and I went through a lot together as we cared for Mom during her last few months. We had always been close before. But this was something that was more understood than explicitly expressed. He was not one to open up much or share his feelings. That was something I would do with Mom, as we had those long heart to heart talks. But her illness was overwhelming for both of us, and even he could no longer hide his feelings. This was evident more around me than Mom, since he didn’t want her to see his pain.

He still didn’t talk about it much. But I remember the close times, after we’d get her to sleep and sit together watching the dying embers in the fireplace. Sometimes we would just hold each other while we cried together. It was a painful time that I would never want to repeat. But I will always treasure the closeness as we shared such painful feelings of impending loss. I never understood until later years why this didn’t continue after she was gone.

Mom knew that we had grown close and was very comforted by this. “Knowing how you care for each other is so special to me,” she would tell me. “I hope you will always care for your father. He’s so very special and I worry about who will be there for him when I’m gone.”

“Oh, Mom, you don’t have to worry,” I tearfully assured her. “You know how much I love Daddy, and I’ll always be there for him.”

“I know you say that now,” she responded. “But people change, especially as they mature into adulthood. Often kids become more distant with parents in their teens and they tend to go their own way. Your father is a very giving person. But he also has needs and often won’t express them. I want to know that someone will be there for him, meeting his every need, even when he doesn’t ask for it. I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what?” I asked. “You know how much I care about him. Why would you be worried?”

“Oh, I know you’ll always care about Daddy. But that’s different than caring for him and his needs. You’re going to grow up and move on with your own life. I guess I’m not so much worried—just wishing that…” She trailed off with a wistful look.

“Wishing for what?” I persisted.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” She paused. “The other night I was up and saw the two of you in the living room. It was so special, seeing you holding each other, as you gently kissed the tears from his cheek. That beautiful image will stay with me always. I just wish that instead of growing apart, you could be even closer. Your dad and I have had such wonderfully close times, and I wish it could be the same for you.”

“But Mom, we’re close now,” I observed, feeling confused.

“I know, honey. But it’s possible to be even closer.” Her eyes filled with tears as she continued. “Most parents have needless boundaries with their children that limit the closeness. But it can be so much more when they let God’s Golden Rule play out in their lives, especially for fathers and daughters. Very few experience the depth of intimacy that comes from giving completely to each other. That comes only comes with taking risks of vulnerability and closeness, willingly dropping the protective barriers that are all too common.”

“What barriers?” I asked, feeling increasingly confused.

“It’s hard to understand. I wished to God I could explain more to you when you’re older.” Mom paused and sighed. I felt her hand stroking my cheek, gazing intently into my eyes, as though trying to convey some special understanding. “I hope you can experience how special your father is as I have—in every way, ways that you could dream of at your age. He really loves to care for a woman’s needs. Nothing could make me happier than knowing that someday both of you will have a special kind of closeness that only a father and daughter can have. Always remember you can trust him more than anyone else in the world.”

“I know, Mom. But you know I trust both of you.” I responded with some irritation, wondering why we were discussing the obvious.

“Of course you do, honey. But I mean trusting him even more, totally and completely, in every way—ways that are only possible when you are older, learning his needs and how to love him in the way you’d want to be loved if you were in his place. That’s essence of the Golden Rule. Sometimes I picture…It’s hard to explain. I mean, it’s just that…Well, most adults couldn’t understand it, let alone someone your age. If only…Oh, forget it, honey. Don’t worry about it. Just know that I love knowing you are close with each other, and always remember that an even closer relationship is possible as you mature.”

I knew there was something I was missing as she continued. “You both have so much to give to each other. Never try to hold back, or worry about getting overly close. Daddy sometimes disagrees with me on this, but when it comes to parents and their children, I don’t think there’s such a thing as being too close.

“I want you to always remember this talk and the promise you made. That promise may give loneliness and pain at first. But over time your patience and discipline will pay off. As you mature and hopefully come to fully understand the meaning of your commitment, fulfilling all the passion that is possible will be a source of unending pleasure in your life. If you remember what I’ve told you, when you’re older, it will make more sense.”

I replayed that conversation over and over, and reflected on it many times. However, it would be years before I came to fully understand it.

After Mom’s death, changes in my relationship with Dad lead to even more confusion. Initially, we still had close times and would cuddle together in the evening, sharing in our grief—until things suddenly changed. It happened so abruptly, I still remember the last time he held me close. I was in my silk nightie, being kind of silly while I danced around to some oldies Daddy was playing.

“Those are some great moves, pumpkin.” He smiled, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Stop teasing me,” I said, shaking my finger, as I cocked my hip to one side.

“Now who’s teasing?” He laughed. “Seriously, honey, you really looked great, just like…You know your Mom was a great dancer and the way you were moving to the music…Well, it reminded me of….” He swallowed hard as he teared up.

“Oh thank you, Daddy,” I bubbled, scampering over to give him a kiss. As he grinned up at me I suddenly wanted to feel our closeness once again. I slipped into his lap to cuddle as we had so often done during Mom’s recent illness. It was always so warm and comforting. But this time was different; as I snuggled down, instead of the usual soft lap, I felt a hard object digging into my rear.

“What’s that, Daddy?” I asked, squirming as I tried to get comfortable.

“Wh-what?” he stammered.

“That.” I shifted once again. “It’s digging into me. Can’t you feel it?”

“Aah, well it’s…umm, you know I-I…” he stammered, seemingly at a loss for words as he reached under to move me off him. “I-I’m sorry; I guess I…Well, it’s a tool I left in my pocket. I’ll go put it away,” he said as he quickly stood and walked to the garage. When he returned he was suddenly awkward and seemed to be avoiding me, as he busied himself in the kitchen.

“Come on, Daddy,” I encouraged, patting the sofa beside me. “I’ll clean up later.”

“Not now, honey,” he responded firmly. “You’re getting too old to cuddle. Besides, it’s getting late and we need to get to bed.”

I was so vulnerable at the time, still reeling from the loss of my mother, that the rejection felt devastating. Unfortunately, my disappointment went beyond that night, turning into ongoing confusion and sadness over my father’s continued distance and avoidance. He would seldom hug or touch, leaving me feeling even more hurt alone.

What had happened to the closeness Mom wanted and assured me was possible? Years later I understood Daddy’s sudden withdrawal that night, but during my teens the feelings of rejection were often unbearable. Little did I know that the hard object pushing against me was no ordinary tool, or that one day I would be wanting—no, begging—to have that same tool driving into me once again.

Soon after the devastating loss of Mom, I had another loss. Rick and his parents had given us tireless support during her illness. He was always so caring a sympathetic over what I was going through. But the hoped-for support after her death was all too brief. After Ricks parents divorced, he and his mom moved to Florida.

I could have made friends, but was too grief stricken and had little interest in connecting with others who could not share my experience. Besides, I couldn’t risk the pain of losing anyone else. I remained a loner over the next few years, settling in to a life that was anything but that of a typical teen.

Daddy was very overprotective; something my mother insisted upon before she died. I assumed she was concerned that I might get hurt or be burned like so many teenage girls who are used by guys. One of her girlfriends got pregnant at 15 and another eventually died of AIDS. She told me that teenage boys were immature, inexperienced lovers on hormone overload who were so driven by their own desires, they were hardly in a position to meet the needs of others. She taught me well, and I had no interest in becoming another sad story of a teen falling victim to her hormones.

At first, keeping my promise was easy. After losing Mom, I was so depressed I had no interest in even dating, let alone sex. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I now realize I had a figure cheerleaders would die for. After I began developing, I noticed that guys would stare or come on to me. But remembering the promise and the risks Mom had warned me about, I was uncomfortable and did all I could to discourage this. Wearing layered or loose-fitting clothing successfully concealed my shape to the point that I was left alone, which suited me fine at the time.

But by the time I turned 18, things had begun to change. I had the normal urges of any girl and was becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation. I was totally committed to honoring Mom’s wishes, but I also felt isolated, thinking I would never participate in life as a normal teen. As I sat alone the night of my birthday, lost in thought, I realized my loneliness was about more than just about not having friends. It was also about my father who had grown increasingly distant. This was not what Mom wanted, and his distance made me miss her even more.

I felt so depressed that I went to bed early, crying myself to sleep. Later, I woke in a sweat, shocked as I realized I had an erotic dream—my first. I tried to remember the details, but it was confusing. Still, that dark form somehow felt strangely familiar. I suddenly felt wetness between my legs, much to my dismay. It left me totally confused, wanting to forget it. I got up to take a warm bath and try to relax.

After drying, I looked in the mirror, trying to picture what others saw. While I was shy, I knew that men found me attractive from the looks I got. My reflection showed very full breasts. They were too big for my comfort, and I’d always been self-conscious about attention they tended to garner. I felt better about my small waist and flat stomach, though they tended to further accentuate my breasts and a very full, round ass, making both look even bigger.

I sighed as I turned and observed the roundness of my rear. I could blame this on my father who was coal black, from the Jamaica. But while I was uncomfortable about the protruding parts, I was generally satisfied with the rest of the package. My almond eyes, high cheek bones, olive skin, long slender legs and arms along with straight jet-black hair past my hips came from mom who was French/Vietnamese. I certainly didn’t have the look of an all-American-girl, but I still thought my parents’ genes had joined to give me a very unique, exotic look. I was beginning to hope others would think the same.

After turning eighteen, I started taking more interest in my personal appearance, wearing some makeup and doing my hair. But I still wore clothes to hide my body, hoping guys would overlook the protruding parts I felt self-conscious about. I wanted them to be attracted to my other assets—my integrity, sense of humor, discipline, etc. (I know—I was truly clueless!) I noticed I was starting to get some looks, but felt very hesitant to act on anything, remembering my parent’s expectations. I was feeling increasingly frustrated, wondering whether I would ever have a boyfriend.

The opportunities for this dwindled further when I dropped out of traditional schooling. I had missed several months of school with Mom’s illness and death, forcing me to repeat the grade. The only way I could graduate on time was to take extra classes. I did so by completing my senior year at home, taking several correspondence courses. I studied hour after hour, wondering if it was worth it. I was indeed a nerd and smiled to myself, thinking that Mom certainly didn’t need to worry about me keeping my commitment. At the rate I was going, it would be years before I’d have any chance to fulfill that promise for passion with another.

Then there was a ray of hope with Daddy suggesting a major shift. “What do you think about us moving?”

“To where?” I responded, thinking anywhere we went had to be a better life.

“Florida, near Nola and Rick.”

“Wow! That would be fantastic! What brought this on?”

“Well, if you remember, Mom wanted to be sure that you had input and guidance as you matured, and I thought Nola could give you the needed feminine perspective.”

“I thought Mom said you were going to teach me.”

“Well…Yeah…I-I think that was her idea, but I think there are some things best dealt with by another woman. Nola will be a wonderful mentor and companion for you. I’ve already spoken with her and she’s looking forward to seeing us.”

I had been very close to Nola as well as Rick, and the thought of having her in my life was very comforting. While I felt sad about her divorce, I was secretly thrilled, knowing I’d have more exclusive time with her.

With his writing career, Daddy worked from home, making the move easy. We found a beach rental right across the street from them. Suddenly, for the first time since Mom died I actually felt hopeful. As I gazed out our window at the Atlantic Ocean and the ebb and flow of the surf on powdery sand, I felt my own pain begin to ebb away, knowing this was a new beginning.

I was excited to see Rick and renew an old friendship. However, I was hardly prepared for the physical attraction I felt. I still get tingly when I think about that first meeting after our four year absence. He had just turned 20 and looked great—strong jaw, piercing eyes, 6’1″ and very buff. His black mom and white dad gave him a beautiful golden brown body that I was dying to get close to. I was more than thrilled to realize the attraction was mutual as I felt his admiring gaze.

Our parents quickly realized that our interest went beyond mere friendship. They feared we would get too close too fast and tried to discourage the relationship. Their concern was heightened when they caught us sneaking out and getting together on the beach. Their attempts to punish, however, had little impact. Finally they realized that we were adults and they couldn’t really stop us. Instead they decided to try working with us to setup some ground rules.

We had a meeting during which they admitted that as adults they couldn’t really control our behavior. But I was reminded of the commitment I had made. Nola had been in on some of the discussions with Mom, so she knew of her wishes and wanted to honor them. She and Dad both expressed concern that it would be hard for me to keep my promise. They told us if we wanted their approval, they hoped we would agree to honor Mom’s wishes and accept some limits. We both strongly valued family, leading us to accept some rather strict ground rules in order to gain their support.

I had already discussed things with Rick and let him know that in keeping with Mom’s wishes, I wanted to avoid any heavy petting, something our parents were relieved to hear. But Dad still had strong reservations and asked that we allow Nola to chaperone us at all times. I think Rick was rather irritated with this, but secretly I was somewhat relieved. Having heard so much from Mom about young men being animals, I wanted some safeguards to help ensure that one day I would experience the pleasure she had assured would be forthcoming if I waited.

I thought that talk on this was done, until overhearing a conversation between Dad and Nola. They didn’t hear me come in, and when I heard my name, I naturally hung back, electing to eavesdrop on their discussion.

“…and I’m not sure keeping her that sheltered was such a great idea.” Nola was talking.

“Time will tell,” Dad responded, “but that’s what her mother wanted. And now that she’s eighteen and nearing graduation, it’s time she got in touch with her sensual side.”

“Don’t you mean her sexual side?” Nola chuckled.

“Alright, alright; that too,” Dad conceded. “But seriously, she’s unbelievably naive and has so much to learn.”

Thanks a lot, Dad, I thought. You’re the one who made me this way!

“No kidding,” Nola agreed. “You’ve certainly got your work cut out.”

“Me? I-I didn’t think…I mean, why me?”

“Hello…You’re her father!” Nola laughed.

“Yeah but…I-I…Well…Like I told you, I think this calls for a woman’s perspective too.” Dad paused before continuing. “I know this is asking a lot, but was hoping that you’d be willing to maybe sort of help her with…”

“Of course, Trey,” Nola interrupted with a chuckle. “I was wondering when you were going to ask; like most fathers, this isn’t exactly your thing. You know how special Lisa is to me, and I’d love to help with her education.”

“Thanks Nola; that’s a relief to know you’ll teach her about…Well, you know, things like dressing nice, wearing makeup, learning to project that allure—everything you know about being a sensual seductive woman.”

“Anything and everything?” Nola pushed.

As I peaked around the corner, I saw Dad give her a knowing smile as he shook his head. “Knowing you, that could be a lot. She’s such a sweet innocent thing, it’s hard to think of her…” He paused, staring off. “But yes, I know what Lynne wanted her to learn, applying the Golden Rule as she learns the joy of passions. And feel free to share anything about our lives and experiences that would help. She’s bound to learn it sometime and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather she learn from.”

“Thanks, Trey; I have a feeling she’ll be a quick study.” She chuckled.

“You don’t know how much that means to us,” Dad said. “You have been such a special friend and helped out so much. Now that she’s turned eighteen, I trust you to bring her up to speed, sharing all that you have experienced and learned. She’s so unbelievably innocent and naive.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” I blurted out as I rounded the corner.

“Lisa! How long have you been listening?” Dad asked accusatorily.

“Now just calm down you two,” Nola broke in. “She has a right to get in on this discussion, Trey. And Lisa, your Dad was only going along with what your mom asked. You trust what she wanted for you, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I agreed.

“And now the promise you’ve kept all these years is almost ready to be fulfilled.”

“But first, there are still some things you need to learn,” Dad said.

“And your father has asked me to teach them to you,” Nola added.

“Like what,” I questioned, feigning ignorance.

“Like learning all about your sexuality and how to use your feminine wiles and charm to meet your needs and the needs of others,” Nola answered. “Your father has asked me to tutor you on this. Would that be OK?”

“I’d love that,” I bubbled. “And when I’m done will I know enough to…Well, I don’t want anyone saying I’m stupid or naive.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Nola assured. “By the time we’re done and you’ve graduated from my course, no one—including your father—will be able to accuse you of being naive in these matters. Maybe you’ll even have some things to teach dear old Daddy,” she chuckled.

“Nola!” Dad objected.

“Oh come on, Trey; lighten up,” Nola laughed. “I was just teasing.”

I continued to wonder about their conversation. What were their experiences together that would help in my learning to be a woman? Maybe it was just Mom and Nola sharing things; they were so close. As much as I looked forward to learning, I still worried about looking stupid. But Nola was very supportive and understanding in her teaching, and our friendship blossomed. At first I wasn’t taught much. She indicated wanting to observe and get to know me more, which happened as she chaperoned us.

Dating Rick was rather awkward at first, with Nola always around. We would sit and watch TV, venturing some tentative hand-holding, all the while wondering what she was thinking. But Nola was surprisingly cool and tended to keep a comfortable distance. Soon, after they began walking me home, he gave me a peck goodnight. As Nola realized that we were sticking with our agreement, she relaxed more and even encouraged our relationship, telling us we made a cute couple. She even went further, telling us to try and ignore her presence. We soon took her up on this, and those goodnight kisses became more prolonged and passionate.

Within a month our tentative moves had gradually progressed to necking and French kissing in the living room at Nola’s home. We were both so horny I started to worry about keeping my promise. It seemed like the more we did the more we wanted. But I told Rick that I was committed to honoring my Mom’s wishes, not just for her but for me, since I believed this would give me the best experience in the future. We were both so hot for each other, Nola had to be firm with limits, but she was also sympathetic.

As my relationship with Rick progressed, Nola began teaching me about being feminine and sexy. When we went shopping, she noticed that my tastes were rather different; I didn’t buy any form-fitting clothes and she soon learned about the hang-ups I had over my figure.

She repeatedly talked to me about this issue, showing fashion magazines as she attempted to convince me of the merits of tighter and more revealing clothing. However, I continued to choose clothing that would hide my figure, remaining adamant in my refusal to dress in more revealing attire. I was certain that nothing would alter my position on this—until Nola changed.

I began to notice that she was suddenly wearing more revealing clothing. Her tops were a little more scooped, showing a hint of cleavage and her skirts were shorter. I knew what she was trying to do, but I wasn’t about to join her—not until seeing the fringe benefits. Even at 41, Nola was very attractive—firm well toned body, busty with a trim waste and fuller ass than mine. With her new clothes covering a body like that, the look was not lost on Rick.

I couldn’t help noticing the effect she was having on him. He became more attentive with his mother, and I would catch him furtively eyeing her body. I had become used to being the center of attention and suddenly felt resentment as I experienced some competition. Needless to say, I caved and the next time we were shopping I picked out smaller sizes that would reveal more of my figure. I was self-conscious at first—until Rick told me how great I looked and began giving me more attention. His interest felt intoxicating and suddenly I wanted to reveal more.

But Nola simply upped the ante, wearing even more skimpy clothing. Her skirts barely covered her ass and those tops became tighter and cut lower. I still recall when I first caught sight of those twin nubs barely protruding, shocked over the realization that she was braless, with only thin cotton separating these intimate parts from her son. The view was hardly lost on Rick, and I would often catch him staring at her chest.

Not to be outdone, I began dressing even more provocatively, coming to realize that my breasts and butt were actually assets to be accentuated. The tops got tighter and smaller and my jean shorts were cut right to the crotch, showing my ass cheeks peeking out.

I began taking long walks on the beach just for the comments and attention I would get from passing guys. I was thrilled with a sense of confidence and exhilaration as I realized the effect I had on guys and the power I had over them.

I was also aware that I often became aroused, just from how I dressed and the looks I got. My sheltered teens had left me sexually naïve, but Mom’s talks had also left me very positive, willing and open to trying anything and everything that was allowed at this time. While I was confident in the open attitude my mom advocated, I was hardly prepared for how far this would take me.

My clothes were making me feel increasingly sexual, and the tension was building. Next Nola suggested we shop for bikinis, saying this was Florida and I had to look hot at the beach or by her pool and hot tub. She purchased several bikinis and had some of her own that would fit me, since we were similar sizes.

As I tried on some suits in her bedroom, each one seemed to get smaller, causing me increasing discomfort. When Nola realized this, much to my relief, she offered to join me and model some herself. Seeing her walking around half naked made me more relaxed.

After the self-consciousness wore off, it began feeling perfectly natural wearing little to nothing in front of Nola. Beyond this, I started feeling excitement, not only over how I looked, but also strangely captivated over how Nola looked. It felt rather weird, but I found it hard to keep from staring as her large black breasts swung freely. And it was impossible not to sneak peeks at her crotch with those full lips that protruded provocatively though her wisps of hair.

As she handed me the last suit I gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding! This is just a pile of rhinestones.”

“No, there are some pieces of cloth attached.”

“Right,” I responded sarcastically. “I almost missed these.” I shook my head as I fingered the tiny hot-pink Lycra patches. “I hope you didn’t pay much for this; band aids would be cheaper—and cover more!” I laughed nervously.

“Come on, honey; it covers more than….” She paused, grabbing the top and holding it up. “Well, maybe not,” she laughed. “Now we know where they got the brand name—Barely There. Anyway, it’s just us girls; let’s see what it looks like.”

I shook my head in dismay as I picked up the top. It consisted of two little swatches offering such pathetic covering, I knew I’d be lucky to hide my nipples. These were attached to a web of rhinestone chains forming a halter top—one that was quite literally thread bare.

As I held it up, I shook my head, realizing that there was no way those tiny patches would hide my large areolas. I pressed it against my breasts while trying to hook it around my neck. But it just kept falling down. With repeated failed attempts, I blushed and looked down, dismayed to see my nipples becoming more swollen and firm. This made coverage even more problematic as my breasts seemed to refuse confinement.

“They’re just too big,” I blurted out.

“I beg to differ,” Nola countered. “You think I’m too big?” she asked, holding up her dark pendulous mounds for my visual inspection.

“N-No, they l-look fine,” I stammered, suddenly self-conscious as I stared at her.

“Is this making you uncomfortable?” she asked, beginning to massage her tits.

“Aahh…n-no, it’s just that….”

“Maybe it’s like what I’m feeling, seeing your gorgeous tits.”

“Oh,” I gasped, suddenly excited over hearing her use that word. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Come on, girl; don’t you know?” Nola chuckled. “You’ve got one hot body, and—I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable—it turns me on!”

“Oh God! I d-didn’t realized that…a-are y-you…?” I stammered, automatically clasping my breasts to cover.

“No, I’m not gay; not that there’s anything wrong with that,” She laughed. “But lots of different people physically excite me, including you.”

“Me?” I was taken aback.

“Yes you, darling.” Nola caressed my cheek. “That’s what makes you so damn sexy. You have no idea how irresistible you are. Now let’s drop those hands so we can get these perfect tits of yours in this top,” she concluded as she hooked the chain around my neck.

“Aahh!” I gasped, shuddering in excitement as I felt her arms go around me, pulling the rhinestone chains in place as she hooked the back. “Oh Gaawd!” I cried, feeling her brush against my nipples while moving the small patches to cover.

“Wow!” I exclaimed as I looked in the mirror. A glistening lattice of rhinestones—outlining every curve of perfect teardrop breasts—held small tightly stretched patches; barely covering the taut, protruding upturned nipples.

God, this can’t be me! I thought, marveling at their beauty. I really do look hot!

“Wow is right,” Nola whispered agreement in my ear, causing me to shiver as she gently kissed down my neck, while her hands moved to hold my glistening tits. Together we both gazed in the mirror at the provocative contrast of her black hands holding my glistening olive breasts—eliciting overwhelming feelings of arousal. I trembled, suddenly aware of a warm sensation between my legs.

All the building sexual tension of the past several weeks finally broke. “Oh God this feels hot!” I blurted out as I arched and pushed my fullness further into her warm hands.

“It is u-unbelievably h-hot,” Nola panted, as she began to gently stoke my breasts. “You’re so sexy and beautiful. Just know that and go with your feelings.”

“Th-Thanks,” I gasped in response to the exquisite sensation of her fingers sliding over my protruding tips and exposed areolas. “Are y-you sure th-this is OK?” I panted, barely able to contain myself.

“Of course, darling,” Nola assured. “Your father asked me to teach you—anything and everything. He wants you to learn how to gain physical satisfaction, with me teaching you all the pleasures you’re capable of having.”

“H-He knows a-about…?”

“No, honey; he has no idea that I’m fondling your beautiful breasts. If he did he’d…”

“Would he th-think I looked h-hot?” I chimed in, still panting with arousal.

“I-I…Well, any guy would, and I suppose your father would….Well, never mind. Trust me; I’m not one to kiss and tell—not even with your father.”

“You mean…Well, I didn’t expect we’d be…I guess I thought…” I trailed off, feeling totally confused.

“You probably thought your first sexual experience would be with Rick,” she came to my rescue. “But this is part of your education, understanding that you can do whatever feels comfortable, as long as it’s in keeping with the Golden Rule and doesn’t hurt others. The only requirement is that we avoid putting limits on sexual exploration that might interfere with your openness and learning.”

“Unbelievable,” I said, still trying to absorb it all.

“Yes you are,” she breathed in my ear as she kissed my neck once again, while continue to massage my tits. “How does this feel, sweetie?”

“Aahh….Wonderful!” I gasped, trembling with excitement. “No, d-don’t st-stop!” I pleaded, as she suddenly dropped her hands, pulling back and leaving me dying for more.

“Easy, honey,” she cautioned. “This is part of your learning. Passions are best when they’re not given free reign. Sexual feelings are most rewarding when they are slowly nurtured and brought out with increasing arousal and then backing off—leaving us always wanting more as the tension builds. Men tend to lose sight of this, missing out of all the passion that is possible as they go for immediate gratification. We need to teach them. But before you can teach, you need to learn it. Now let’s get on these bottoms.”

“Oh, th-this is embarrassing,” I protested, afraid to even look down as I felt the moisture building between my legs.

“Nonsense,” she responded. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, not after all the suits we’ve tried on here. Now how about slipping off these bottoms so we can….” She suddenly paused. “Oh my!” she exclaimed.

I glance at the mirror again, gasping in horror as I saw the obvious dark shiny spot on the front of my bottoms. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I cried, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Nola interrupted, grabbing my arm. “This is wonderful!”

“W-Wonderful?” I repeated incredulously, still trying to pull away. “I end up getting….”

“Getting all juiced,” Nola continued. “Seeing you get this excited is fantastic! It’s a wonderful compliment.”

“A compliment?” I questioned, feeling more confused than ever.

“Of course. You’re either hot over seeing me naked, or feeling my touch, or seeing your sexy tits in that top. Whatever the reason, I helped bring on these feelings you’re having, so I’ll take your seeping pussy as a compliment to my teaching. Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

“Aahh…I-I…You’re welcome, I guess.” I sighed, relieved this was finally out in the open—ending the need to hide my feelings.

“I love to get this kind of feedback; you can’t get much more direct and honest input than a wet pussy. Truth be told, you’ve got me pretty juiced too,” she admitted, reaching to open her swollen lips&—the glistening pink testifying to her arousal.

Suddenly, seeing her willingness to be so vulnerable, I felt totally relaxed over my own turn-on. I quickly slipped off the bottom I was wearing, intrigued by the strings of secretions that clung to the material. This was not lost on Nola, who quickly grabbed the bottom, causing me to gasp as she quickly brought it to her face.

“Hummm!” she moaned, inhaling deeply. “You smell delicious!” I was still in shock, wondering how she could find this appealing when she went further, beginning to lick the front and then suck on the material—tasting my own pussy juice!

“Eeoww! That’s gross!” I blurted out.

“No, my dear,” Nola countered. “Your cum tastes wonderful—something you’ll learn soon enough. It’s something you should be proud of, showing that you’re all woman. Now let’s get on this bottom here.”

That was easier said than done. A thin rhinestone strap went up the crack in my ass and hooked to a tiny strand going around my hips. This attached to three strands on each side in front, dipping down low to connect to a thin elongated patch in front. The skimpy string barely covered, leaving the sides of my bulging cunt bare.

By the time I got it on and looked in the mirror, I was blushing with embarrassment. Much to my dismay, the patch in front had already become wet from my secretions. As if that weren’t enough, the front was so small that the top of my slit was peeking through, with my unshaven pussy leaving hair sticking out all over.

Seeing my discomfort, Nola immediately came to the rescue. “You’re going to look super hot—as soon as we get you a sexy bikini shave. My cunt lips wouldn’t show like this at all if I didn’t shave. Now let’s have you lie down and we’ll get right to it.”

I quickly stripped off the suit and lay on her bed. Still, even in my aroused state, I was tense and self-conscious. However, Nola took her time, patiently beginning with gently massaging my feet before gradually working her way up. My legs tended to automatically clamp together at first, tensing further when she reached for the razor and shaving cream.

“Relax,” she whispered in my ear, making me melt when I felt her lips on my neck once again. As she stroked my inner thighs, my legs gradually parted and finally with, a sigh and shudder, they fell open. “That’s it, sweetie. Keep those long lovely legs wide apart, so I can give your creaming cunt a nice trim.”

“Huh…Huh,” I gasped in anticipation, trembling uncontrollably.

“Easy, honey. Slow deep breaths.” It might be good advice, but I was simply too far gone. “What a sexy, tight little pussy you’ve got here,” she observed.

“Aaah!” I groaned, thinking I was about to pass out. Her hands were now on my hips which had taken on a life of their own, slowly writhing and thrusting.

“Geez! You need it bad,” Nola observed. I could barely breathe as I felt her fingers gradually sliding down and in, grazing the crease on either side until….

“Aahhh…Yesss!” I gasped in response. Oh God that touch—the first touch of anyone there—was like a jolt of lightening! I was on fire, gasping once again as the cool cream touched my lips.

“God! This is s-so hot!” Nola exclaimed, increasing my arousal as I felt her hot breath on my cunt. “Try to hold still,” she cautioned. Still, as she began shaving, I shuddered involuntarily, feeling the exquisite touch of her fingers wiping my lips smooth. “Your slit is so beautiful, especially when you’re aroused like this.”

“R-Really?” I stammered, never considering that someone would see beauty between my legs.

“Absolutely,” Nola responded. “Hold on; let me show you.” In seconds she had a mirror in hand, reflecting my most intimate parts, now bare except for a wisp of hair on top.

“Look at how wet you are. It’s so hot seeing your engorged lips and oozing slit that’s automatically open like that.”

I could hardly breathe, staring at the reflection of my soaked lips, with the inner pink glistening.

“Your slit is so hot, and inviting. For most of us, it’s closed with the inner lips almost hidden. They have to be pulled open to see inside. But yours…Wow! When you’re turned on like this those inner petals just naturally open, like a beautiful flower. Your cunt is so ready!”

“R-Ready?” I panted questioningly.

“Of course; open and ready for a nice hard cock to drive inside you.”

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, shocked by her words.

“Geez, honey,” Nola chuckled. “You’ve got lots to learn and it’s going to be so exciting teaching you. What a lovely virgin pussy. This tight little cunt is going to make someone very happy.” She had me groaning and panting, with any embarrassment quickly dismissed as Nola continued showering me with compliments while lightly caressing my smooth moist lips.

“Oh God! Please don’t stop!” I begged as my hips writhed in response to her exploring fingers.

She moved up to my breasts and gently, slowly traced smaller and smaller circles around them until she reached the center. I gasped as she touched my nipples and then began moaning as she flicked them with her fingers. Her other hand caressed my undulating stomach and moved toward my thrashing hips. Then I felt both hands sliding up my thighs. I closed my eyes, groaning as she began stroking my smooth outer lips once again.

“Yeesss!” I cried as I felt a finger slip into the soft folds and begin stroking inside. I was on fire! I felt lightheaded and wondered if I could take much more. Then she tried to hold my bucking hips down with one arm as she gently parted my lips further.

I opened my eyes and looked down in amazement to see Nola, with this glazed look, open her mouth and bend down. “Are you g-going to k-k-kiss me?” I stammered incredulously.

“I’m going to taste you, darling.” She glanced up, smiling as she saw my look of wonderment. “You smell delicious and we’re both going to love this.”

“Aaahhee!” I cried as her tongue made contact, sliding over my lips and then slipping inside. “Huh! Huh! Aahhnngggg!” I screamed, feeling the waves of pleasure coursing through me as I exploded, my body convulsing in total release. I continued to moan and tremble, feeling like it would never stop—sensations I never wanted to stop. I had no sooner relaxed when she began to lick me in earnest.

Any of my previous inhibitions completely evaporated with my first mind blowing climax. I was totally hooked, hell bent on embracing my new found life without reservation—an unbridled pursuit of pleasure previously denied. I began to moan, pulling my knees up to allow compete access to my wide open cunt. That’s when her exploration moved further down.

“Ohhhh, y-yessss!” I hissed, feeling the velvet touch of her tongue on my asshole. Again I was gone in the throes of another intense orgasm. As I began to recover, I remembered how wonderful Mom had said sex could be. I couldn’t imagine anything better, thinking I hadn’t even yet been with a man.

As I finally calmed again, Nola moved up to my face and began gently kissing me. I smelled my secretions on her and we soon joined together, as our tongues shared my love juice. The room was full of a musky odor, providing my first introduction to the intense smell of sex as the salty pungent taste was spread over my lips.

It was so hot, I was just doing whatever felt natural. I also realized that I wasn’t the only one who was aroused. Nola was panting in excitement, and suddenly I wanted to see her respond to me. I started fondling her tits as they brushed against my own, eliciting moans of pleasure. But then she suddenly pulled away, leaving me confused—that is, until she explained herself.

“We n-need to t-talk,” she panted, still trying to recover. “I promised I would teach you about becoming a woman, which is partly why your father moved here. But I have assured both your parents that the teaching would be based totally on your needs. This is important because so often those who teach others about sex quickly lose sight of the goal, often becoming focused on their own sexual gratification.

This could end up having you feel used; that can never happen. You are very beautiful, so please don’t take this as a rejection. Right now, I’m so hot for you, I’m dying for your touch, and I don’t really trust myself. When I agreed to do this, I had no idea how hot you’d be. I have to control my own urges right now.”

“But you have given me such a wonderful experience; I just want to give back to you. And I know you’re all hot, needing some relief. Mom said that it was important to practice the Golden Rule, and seems like I should be giving to you also. Isn’t part of my sex ed supposed to be about giving pleasure too?”

She wavered, giving me a lustful look before responding. “You’re so sweet, Lisa—and tempting.” She sighed. “You will learn to pleasure others. But this is not the time for you to give me pleasure. You’re right; I’m hot, but I can certainly take care of things myself.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling confused once again.

“Come on, you know—″ Nola paused, appearing awkward, as she could see that I really didn’t know. “I can—well, you know—touch myself like I touched you.”

Now I was feeling stupid and embarrassed. “Oh you mean…Well y-yeah, I heard of that. But…Well, is that ok? I thought my parents wanted me to avoid…I mean, my vagina; so I never touched myself.”

“Dear God! You poor girl!” Nola sounded sympathetic. “I know they never intended that. No wonder you’re so beautifully horny. We’re going to have to make up for lost time. First, when we’re talking about sex it’s much more exciting to use slang terms, like pussy or cunt. And my pussy is already getting wet thinking of watching you turn yourself on. Would you like me to show you?”

“I’d l-love that!” I responded enthusiastically. By then I was so far gone, I would have agreed to anything that would continue my erotic adventure. She instructed me to sit at her feet and observe, giving me one hot view! Her legs were wide open with her slit oozing as her fingers parted the lips invitingly. She pointed out her swollen clit and showed me how she teased around it.

“Th-This is wh-when it gets g-good,” she panted, beginning to rub gently, while her other hand moved to squeeze her nipples. I was dying to share in her experience and started breathing hard, telling her how sexy this was.

Then she invited me to try it myself and in no time, I was lying beside her, my hands buried in my freshly shaved cunt. I felt the bed shaking, as she moaned through her climax and this was soon followed by my own intense orgasm. From then on, I was thrilled to know my sexual release was always as close as my hands, and I got myself off at least daily. My education was such an exciting adventure, and I was learning to treasure each new discovery.

This started a whole new relationship with Nola. Before or after my hot times with Rick, we would go to her room for some sexual encounters. It was all so exciting, I became increasingly daring, less inhibited and enthusiastic with displaying myself physically.

We began shopping at adult stores, allowing for some very provocative outfits. My clothing was both tasteful but also very revealing, bordering on the look of a high class whore. I learned the art of keeping the essentials hidden while having all that covered hint at what was beneath. This resulted in more attention as I felt others always looking and imagining what was covered, trying to see more.

Nola taught me all the slang sexual terms, and began introducing me to vibrators and dildos, adding another dimension to my pleasure. She showed me various positions, how to please a man and have him please me. It seemed like every day there was a new and exciting lesson to learn; the more I tried, the more I wanted. I was beginning to understand what Mom meant as I realized what a treasure Nola’s mentoring was. With her instruction, I was beginning to realize that nothing was off limits for me.

It had only been three weeks since my first climax when Nola introduced me to a whole new experience. I was in the throes of passion while she was tonguing my cunt, when I suddenly felt the urge to touch my asshole. When I first touched the sensitive skin there, I began shaking uncontrollably.

Nola immediately replaced my fingers with hers, as she stroked around my puckered hole. Then she pulled my ass cheeks apart, moving in to begin licking the quivering ring. I was panting and moaning, knowing I was almost there. As I felt her tongue penetrate past the tremoring muscles, I was gone in an explosive climax, further heightened by her fingers teasing my clit.

When I finally calmed, Nola was smiling down at me, her face glistening with my juices. “You’re so beautiful to watch when you’re so totally turned on,” she observed. “I love you so much and feel so special about being able to teach and share this with you.”

“That was unbelievable,” I sighed. I felt flushed with embarrassment when I came to my senses, suddenly realizing what had happened. “I feel kind of funny about this. I mean that’s—you know—not the place…Well, you’re not supposed to…I mean, I don’t know why I got excited about…God, this is so embarrassing; I feel like some kind of pervert.”

“You’re certainly no pervert,” Nola reassured. “If you are then so am I, ’cause I really get off on anal. One person’s perversion is another’s pleasure. It’s wonderful that you’re so open. So many limit their sexual pleasure with unnecessary boundaries and hang-ups. It’s important to break through these boundaries that can interfere with sexual fulfillment.”

Nola smiled as she stroked my long hair that partially covered my breasts. “For me, anything goes as long as it’s exciting and doesn’t hurt anyone. Some people are really uptight about touching or having anything go in their asshole. But for those open to it, this area is extremely erotic. The skin is very sensitive, with tight ringed muscles like a rosebud, closed and dying to be gently opened to experience the treasures within. It feels so exciting to be penetrated deep with the muscles stretched tight around.”

“You mean you’ve had a man’s cock up your ass?” I asked excitedly.

“Of course, lots of times. It feels so full and stretched and wonderful!”

“Oh God, Nola, you’re making me hot,” I panted, feeling reassured by her comments.

“That was kind of what I was feeling, like I wanted to be filled and stretched there. But I thought maybe it was too nasty and depraved.”

“Some might say that, but your mother always said that when something seems depraved, that is often based on desire to look proper and maintain control. She argued that this limits the level of passion that is divinely ordained for us.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand,” I responded, flashing back on what Mom had said. “I remember her talking about divine depravity, but I never understood it until now.”

“Exactly. To experience all that is possible, there should be no limits. And now that you understand that, I think you’re ready for another first.”

Nola was looking excited as she got up and went to the closet. “Now turn over doggie style with your ass in the air—head down. Now no peeking. I’ll be right back,” she instructed as she moved to the bathroom.

I was so excited it seemed like forever before she returned and said, “OK honey, you can look now. Are you ready?”

As I looked over my shoulder, gasping as I first caught sight of her. But I quickly caught on and my shocked stare turned to a grin of anticipation as observed her new look.

“Oh God, this is so hot!” I blurted out with excitement as I observed Nola standing there. She was naked but had added some exciting equipment. A black cock extended straight out from her cunt, held on with straps around her waist and crotch. My eyes were glued to that rigid tool, glistening with lubrication. I learned later it wasn’t that large, but at the time it seemed huge.

“This is so exciting! My first fuck!” I exclaimed.

“Well, let’s just say your first ass-fucking,” Nola clarified. “I think your first cunt-fuck should be for that special guy. I know you’ve had a dildo up there, but feeling a real cock is different, and you will want to wait and make that special.”

She walked over with the black phallus swaying and began to massage my cheeks, occasionally brushing against my bud. This caused me to suddenly gasp in excitement and anticipation.

I trembled and involuntarily tensed as I felt the tip press against my bud. She told me to relax and take some deep breaths, but I was so excited I couldn’t slow my breathing. I arched back, wiggling my tail impatiently as I sought the virgin penetration. She gently but firmly held my hips as she gradually pushed forward. The muscles automatically tightened seeming to deny access to what was within.

But my tightness around the invading tool made for a heavenly sensation as the thin tissue stretched tight, causing the slightest penetration to send chills through me. I shook as the ring spasmed around the head and then gave way. I felt my involuntary spasming and relaxing over and over as Nola pushed through until the shaft was fully engulfed deep within.

“Oh, God! So full, so deep!” I panted. Nola began a slow pumping action that felt good, but I wanted more. “Please faster. Harder!” I demanded.

“Ok, sweetie, you asked for it,” Nola said, as she began humping me in earnest, spearing my ass in and out with that ebony tool. Now the full length of the shaft was driving in and out, and I could feel Nola’s pelvis hammering against my cheeks as I heard the rhythmic slapping accompanying her own moaning and panting.

The feeling was unbelievable! With each penetration and withdrawal I felt jolting sensations emanating from deep within. These radiated throughout my body, in a series of building impulses, cascading in rapid succession, wave upon wave firing every nerve to a peak, leaving me shivering and quivering uncontrollably.

Nothing was more on fire than the volcano between my legs that was about to erupt. Trying to control my shaking hand, I reached under to my dripping pussy. One touch of my clit and I went wild. My hips were thrashing uncontrollably as the ringed muscles tightened around that phallus. I screamed in ecstasy, and my body went taut, in total spasm.

I felt faint with exhaustion, as I finally came around. I was also confused, feeling the tool still inside me, while seeing Nola sitting beside me, laughing. “Wow, honey! You go girl! This is certainly a first for me. That’s what I call girl power!” she exclaimed.

I followed her gaze and looked back to see that my tight ass and thrashing movements had dislodged the Velcro straps holding the cock to Nola’s groin. There I lay with my ass in the air, still fully penetrated with that cock as the straps hung to the sides.

I was more and more thrilled with each new discovery and experience. Next she felt I was ready to observe some live action and began introducing me to porno movies. I was amazed at the size of some of those cocks that the girls took in every orifice, but it only motivated me to improve my own abilities.

I began sucking on dildos for practice and couldn’t wait to taste my first cum. Nola said I was a natural and had an insatiable sexual appetite. She said I was just like her and my mom, which had me wondering. But I dropped it. We were having some wonderful times and I was on a constant high, experiencing the joys that I knew Mom wanted for me, coming to an increasing understanding of her divine depravity.

In the midst of all my fun with Nola, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt, knowing that Rick was missing out. He thought we were doing girl things the whole time, but not those girl things! We knew that he was often left sexually frustrated; that was obvious, as we were constantly flaunting our bodies. Between our skimpy attire and Rick and I necking some, I’d often see the lump in his pants.

Sometimes he’d excuse himself to the bathroom and then return in a few minutes, looking flushed and minus the bulge in his crotch. When Nola finally told me what he was doing, I was initially shocked, not only over what he was doing, but even more by the fact that Nola was willing to share such personal information about her own son. Then, over time, it happened so often that soon it became a running joke between us. We even started betting on how long it would take him to get off. The shortest was two minutes. But I knew he was left frustrated and still wanted to give him more like the erotic experiences I was having.

I reflected on how he could share in our hot times without violating the rules. That’s when I hatched a plan. I reasoned that since we both knew what he was doing in the bathroom, why couldn’t we let him be more open about it?

“You know we’re not really being fair to Rick,” I noted. “I seems like we need to come up with a way that he can share in our fun.”

“I know what you mean,” she responded. “I feel bad for him, but with your coming graduation, it won’t be long until you can fully give to him.

“Yeah, but I was just thinking that maybe he…No, just forget it.”

“No, what were you thinking of,” Nola pushed.

“OK, I was just thinking that there’s really no rules against him exposing himself and…Well, how would you feel about him turning himself on while we kissed?”

“But we agreed I’d chaperone all the time until you graduated.”

“I know; I just thought that…”

“My God! You just thought I’d sit there watching my own son jack-off?”

“I’m sorry,” I suddenly felt embarrassed over the suggestion. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“You certainly weren’t,” Nola agreed. “I consider myself pretty open about things, but not that open.”

“I just thought that with you dressing that way around him and knowing how he gets….”

“How he gets?” she interrupted. “You thought that was about me?” I actually thought part of it was, but given her tone, I wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m sure his excitement is all about you.”

After our discussion, I began suggesting to Nola that I didn’t feel right having such pleasure while leaving Rick out of it. Our encounters became increasingly less frequent as I backed off. I had learned my lessons well, and just as I expected, the tension of unmet sexual needs began building. After a week of my turning down her suggestions for “girl time,” she was getting so frustrated that I think she would’ve agreed to anything.

“How about we go for a soak in the hot tub when Rick gets home,” I suggested, the next time we were together.

“That’s a great idea,” Nola agreed. “How about wearing that rhinestone bikini?”

“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously, wondering how she could possibly be OK with Rick seeing me like that. But then I realized that she was thinking more about what she’d see.

“Sure, I think it would be fun. Are you chicken?” she teased.

“Not at all,” I responded. “But what will you wear? How about that red string bikini.”

“Forget it! I certainly can’t let Rick see me in that,” she insisted emphatically.

“Then I guess you won’t be seeing me in that little number that got things started between us.”

“Oh come on, Lisa,” Nola pushed. “I just wanted to…Actually on second thought, I’ll take you up on that. With what you’re wearing, Rick won’t even notice me. Besides, I’ll be mostly hidden underwater anyway.”

“Sounds like you might be expecting some action tonight,” I suggested.

“Well certainly not in front of my son,” she stated firmly. “But I thought that after showing off a little, we might be kind of hot and want to get together afterward. It seems like it’s been a while.”

“I know, but if there’s going to be any action, I want it to involve Rick,” I insisted.

“I know what you want, but I think the main action needs to happen later. I’m the experienced adult here and might let things heat up some—but only so far.”

Nola was smiling with confidence as she continued. “That way you’ll be begging for relief later. From the way you’re staring at my tits, I’d say you’ll be ready for some late night fun.”

“We’ll see. Maybe you’ll be the one begging,” I countered, as I licked my lips suggestively. Obviously this was going to be a struggle of wills. Thinking of Nola in that tiny string was making me hot. And I knew she would likely push the boundaries some, but only so far, as she wanted to leave me tense and horny, willing to succumb to her later seduction. But I was determined to control my urges. Our teaching sessions lately were less about my learning things and more about just getting off. It didn’t seem fair to Rick, and I was resolute in my plan to beat Nola at her own game.

Looking back, I realize that while I had a good sense of my own control, I certainly didn’t realize the height of Nola’s sexual tension and frustration that night. I never dreamed how this would play out or how events that evening would change my life—leading to an epiphany on what my mother really intended for me, and the full meaning of her divine depravity. I certainly had no clue about this as the evening began. This was fortunate since, had I known, I might have been too eager and excited to allow the events to unfold as they did.

After squeezing into that rhinestone suit I dropped the sarong and walked out on the deck just as Rick was getting to the hot tub. When he heard the door, he turned and suddenly froze.

His jaw hung as he stared speechlessly before finally finding his tongue. “Holy shit, Lisa! That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen; what a body!”

“Thanks,” I responded, as I seductively swung my hips, walking toward the tub.

“No, thank you.” He ginned shaking his head. “You’re killing me!”

“Oh my, we wouldn’t want that,” I teased. “It’s pretty obvious you like it, and looks like you’re very much alive.” I grinned, observing his loose trunks bowed out in appreciation. Rick looked down sheepishly as he quickly slipped into the tub.

It was only then I realized that while we were totally focused on each other, Nola had already quietly slipped into the tub. I felt a mixture of regret and relief as I saw her sitting low in the water with all her vital parts covered.

I was hoping to observe Rick’s reaction when he saw his mom in next to nothing, wondering what he really thought of his mothers increasing exposure of late. But then, I was glad to be the total focus of his attention.

Jessica and David

It was one of those hot, still summer afternoons when there isn’t a breath of air and the humidity hangs thick like a blanket, covering everything with dampness.

Jessica came in from her tennis lesson wearing a gleaming white tennis outfit. That did little to hide her obviously beautiful, darkly tanned body.

With a shake of her long blonde hair she wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her wristband and went to the refrigerator for a cold bottle of white wine. After pouring a large glass, she sat at the kitchen counter to cool off before heading upstairs for a long relaxing shower.

Jessica is David’s mother. Who is a 19 year old, that is just about to start his freshman year of college and is looking forward to a long summer of relaxation, before heading off to school. David is a big, strong, good looking boy that had always been popular in school and has lots of friends that he always hangs around with. He was never really in trouble in school, but always seemed to have a need for thrills, that usually involved stepping over the line…at least just a little.

Jessica and David’s father had been high school sweethearts, who got married the summer after their graduation and, as things often happen…. He stopped paying attention to her in the bedroom over the last year or so, even despite her attempts to keep herself attractive and desirable. She sometimes wondered if he was seeing someone else on the side for new sexual thrills. Jess, herself, had to admit that the thought of sex with someone new after all these years might be something that she would welcome, to break the growing frustration and need that had begun to sprout in her mind.

David’s father was always somewhat overbearing and demanding and Jessica always felt content to go along with his wishes without question. She had always been easily led and easily dominated so was a little afraid to mention the lack of attention being paid to her. She felt it was easier just not to mention it and not to cause trouble.

Jess poured a second glass of cold, white wine and went upstairs to take a shower and maybe take a short nap to relax before everyone came home.

Standing in the large bathroom, she pulled her top over her head revealing a white athletic bra doing its best to contain her ample breasts. Pulling off her bra and stepping out of her short skirt she stood there looking at her reflection in the mirror.

“Not bad for a 41 year old woman” she thought to herself as she turned front and back to admire all sides of her body. She works hard to maintain her figure which is still really quite a head turner. Jessica is about 5’8″ tall with a body packed with curves leading to a great ass, long shapely legs and nice large boobs that have still not begun to sag.

She is not overweight but instead seems just right, like a ripe fruit, ready for picking.

She stripped down and stepped into the shower where the cascading jets of hot water began to relax her. As Jess’s hands ran over her breasts and down over her belly, she soaped herself up in the hot, steamy shower and her mind began to wander with the sensation of the soapy, slippery feeling beneath her fingers. She lightly massaged her breasts paying particular attention to her stiffening nipples. With a sigh of resignation she ran a hand down between her legs and lightly, slowly began to stroke her outer pussy lips, her finger slipping into the moistness as she rubbed her clit.

The sensations she felt were enough to make her cum in the hot relaxing water and she shuddered slightly as she brought herself to an orgasm.

Frustrated with desire, Jessica stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off before heading into the bedroom for a quick nap before David and later, her husband came home. After the steaminess of the bathroom, the cool air of the bedroom felt refreshing as she lay down, completely naked, on the bed to rest.

She sank into the cool, crisp sheets and sleep quickly overtook Jessica.

As she lay there her mind kept flitting to thoughts of sex with another man and, disturbingly, thoughts of sex with her son and some of his friends. They are all young, strong, good looking guys of 18 to 19 years old who would obviously give her all the excitement she could stand. He mind spun with all of the rights and the wrongs, the good and the bad of the possibilities. If nothing else, she thought, it makes for a fun fantasy of having these guys interested in a woman her age.

After a while, as Jessica started to awaken, she became aware of a sensation of being watched. She stretched lazily to relax her muscles and partially opened her eyes to see her son David standing in the doorway looking at her naked body upon her bed.

“David”, she shrieked, “Just what do you think you are doing?”

David just kept staring at his mother’s body as she tried to cover herself. She could see that he had a growing bulge in his pants as he began defiantly began to approach the bed.

“You just stop right there, young man, and get out of here this instant!” She demanded.

David stood over her at her bedside, with an erection now quite obvious in his pants. He said harshly “Look, Mom, all the guys keep talking about how hot you are and how much they’d like to fuck you, so I thought I’d see for myself. I never thought of you as other than my mother until they began to kid me about living with such a hot mom. But it wasn’t until I began watching you through the bedroom door a few weeks ago that I began to think that maybe it’s time to find out just how hot you are. Besides, I’ve watched you before today and I’ve seen you use that rubber cock, you keep in your nightstand, to fuck yourself. You never knew I could see you, but I could and I’ve seen how much you enjoyed it.”

“You get out of here right now, David, or I will tell your father when he comes home tonight.” Jessica said sternly still trying to cover herself.

“Don’t give me that crap, Mom. If you say anything to Dad, I’ll tell him that I caught you meeting with another man. You know how jealous he can be and what a temper he has. He would be unbelievably pissed even though you and I both know it isn’t true. If you want to risk having him leave you, then go ahead and tell him.” David said with an arrogant leer.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Jessica and began to tug the sheet off of her naked body. His erection was now quite visible through the fabric of his shorts. His hand went to her as he began to stroke her belly, up to her creamy, soft breasts.

Jessica was too shocked and stunned by David’s threat to put up any defense as he groped her breast and started to pinch her stiffening nipple. David pulled the sheet all the way off of his mother to see the beauty of her long tanned legs and the creamy tan lines left by the swimsuit she usually wore at the pool.

David ran his hand down until he reached the vee of her crotch. He forced his hand between her tightly clenched thighs until he could feel the silky soft hair surrounding her pussy and he began to stroke her like he had seen her do to herself many times before.

Jessica realized with a soft gasp that her body was beginning to respond. “David, you can’t do this.” She said looking him in the eyes. “You know this is wrong. You’ve got to stop this right now.”

Jessica moved to stand up from the bed but David roughly pushed her back down and said harshly “Just relax. Unless you want more trouble than you can handle from Dad, you better just shut up and be still.”

Knowing how convincing he could be and how he always had a way with his father, she knew that he could cause real trouble for her if it came to that.

Realizing that she had little choice, and that David did in fact hold all of the cards, she laid back and allowed him to part her legs slightly, so his fingers could explore deeper into her rapidly moistening pussy.

“After all”, she thought, “I have just been wondering what it would be like to have sex with him and his friends and it’s been so long since David’s father touched me.”

Jessica’s clean, soap scented, fresh smell radiated from her as her skin began to warm from the blood coursing hotly through her veins. The scent of her arousal began to excite David even more as he pushed his fingers deeper and deeper into her moist pussy.

Jessica let David spread her legs even wider to let him gain access to her throbbing vagina. His eyes had a kind of glazed look about them as he took in her beauty.

After a moment or two of probing her silky soft wetness he stood and unzipped his pants. As they fell to the floor his erect cock was freed from its confinement and it sprang out straight. It’s full length bobbing gently towards his mother. It was a full seven or eight inches long and thick. Jessica thought to her self ” My god he’s huge!”

Apprehensively, Jessica watched as he said “Give me your hand, Mom.”

She held out her hand and he took it and wrapped it around his cock. Her hand covered barely half the length of his shaft. Jessica’s eyes were wide as he began to move her hand up and down the length of his stiff dick.

Knowing that she feared retributions for her husband, and his sometimes violent temper, more than anything. all of the resistance seemed to go out of Jess as she resigned herself to David’s unrelenting advances.

My god, you’re big David. When did you get so big?” she said quietly as she began to stroke his cock in earnest.

“Shut up, Mom. I want you to sit up now. It’s time for you to taste a real cock and not just some rubber toy you use on yourself”

Jessica meekly obeyed and David began to rub the head of his cock all over her face and across her lips.

“Take it in your mouth and suck me, mom.” He said.

She parted her lips and let him slide his stiff, hot cock into her mouth. With one hand on his dick she began to rub up and down his shaft as her mouth followed her hand, sucking gently with each stroke.

David grabbed a handful of her hair in each hand, thrust his hips forward, and held her down on his cock until she could no longer breathe. Gagging and coughing, Jess pushed him back so she could get some air and then began again to suck him harder and harder, until at last she could feel his body tense, as hot streams of cum began to shoot in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could before pulling away, as even more cum ran out of her mouth and down her chin.

Jessica had begun to enjoy, what earlier, she was only fantasizing and dreaming about.

Even though he had just flooded her mouth with his cum she could see he wasn’t done yet. His young cock was still charged and ready.

“Come on, honey” she said as she lay back down on the bed and spread herself wide so he could position himself between her legs. “Come on, honey, I want you to fuck me with that huge cock. I want to see what being completely filled up feels like. Your dad is not as big as you and I have always dreamed of a really big cock fucking my pussy.”

David knelt between her legs, positioned his cock against her swollen pussy lips and began to force himself inside, while he watched her stretch wide to accommodate his girth.

“Ohh, easy honey, it’s been a while since Dad made love to me and it’ll take a minute for me to be able to take all of you in.

He slowly pushed in farther and deeper, until at last she had taken him completely inside her cunt. His balls were tight against her as he began to slowly withdraw and thrust back in her warm wetness.

Jessica gasped “Ohh, David! My god you are so big! Don’t be afraid to fuck me hard. I want to see what all that cock feels like as you slam it deep into my pussy.”

She drew her legs up and hooked her knees over David’s shoulders so she could experience his huge cock to the fullest with each stroke.

With each stroke she began to moan louder and louder “Uh, uh, uh” “Oh, god, yesss” she screamed as the strokes became harder and faster until at last Jessica felt herself reach the point of a massive orgasm. “Oh shit yes, I’m coming, fuck me hard” she gasped as the waves of her release swept over her.

At the last second David pulled out of her and shot streams of warm white cum over her belly.

She shuddered as her spasms subsided and said as the realization of what just happened set in. “David, you know this is so wrong, don’t you? We can never tell anyone what has happened here and we can never do this again. It was a great feeling for me to see what such a large cock felt like but this is so terribly wrong we can never let this happen again. Remember, you promised not to tell your father anything about this.”

David, knowing he now had control over his mother and that from now on she would do whatever he wanted, looked down at her and said “Mom, I won’t tell Dad but this is far from over. I’ve never had a piece of ass as good as you. All those high school girls that I’ve fucked can’t compare with the feeling I’ve had fucking you. I’m going to enjoy you whenever I want and, believe me, that is going to be often.

“I think some of the guys may even like to get their turn, after I tell them of our agreement.” He said with lust still burning hotly in his eyes.

“David, you wouldn’t! You couldn’t? I couldn’t bear knowing that someone else knew about what happened here today.” Jessica said with a growing panic.

“Well, Mom, you better get used to the idea because I think you’re going to pretty popular from now, till the end of summer.”

During the next week, Jessica and David had sex many different times and each time seemed to get easier and easier for Jess to accept. She found that she looked forward to his seemingly tireless sex drive and found that the feeling of that huge cock filling her love tunnel was addictive. She found also that she quite liked the feeling of his cock filling her mouth with his seemingly endless spurts of cum. To her it had become thrilling and an enormous turn on.

Despite her growing acceptance of the attention David had forced on her she began to once again wonder about other young men and if they had the same high sex drive as her son. Stimulating thoughts chased each other through her mind more and more frequently.

Seeming to have read her mind, David announced that since his Dad was going to be out of town over the next weekend, he was having a party for some of his friends, at their house the next Saturday evening. There would be three of his pals and they may also be bringing dates.

“David, have you told any of these guys about what you and I have been doing lately?

“Yes, Mom, I told all three that we had reached an agreement to have sex with each other to satisfy our own needs. I also told them that if the situation was right that you might be willing to fuck some of them too.”

“David, you didn’t actually say that did you?” She said fearfully.

“Yes, I did! Mom, you gotta realize these guys think you are hot and they would give anything to have a chance to fuck you.”

“You didn’t say “Fuck” did you? You know I don’t like that word. That seems so much like I would be their slut or something.” She said dubiously.

“Well, Mom, they just may want you to be their slut. If you like what we have been doing, you may want to think about having three horny guys, who think you are the hottest thing they’ve ever seen, lusting after your body.”

Jessica, secretly excited by the idea, paused to consider the possibilities. “Well, I guess if they come over for the party we could see how things go.”

“Mom, you don’t have much choice. I’ve promised these guys that you’ll agree to do what ever they want. One of the guys is even bringing his girlfriend. He says she’s dying to be there and to watch what happens. Remember our agreement. It’s too late to back out now.”

“OK, David, but it’s just that this is all so wrong. I admit that I enjoy what you and I do, but with these other guys? I just have to get used to the idea. I’d like to experiment but it scares me to think that it could get out of control.”

“Just relax, OK? You’ll like these guys and I know they’ll love you!”

Saturday finally rolled around and Jessica spent the afternoon thinking about the chance to actually have four horny young guys, including her son, paying attention to her. It seemed to be what she had been craving for quite some time.

That evening, Jess dressed in a pair of white shorts and a black sleeveless tank top that really showed off her blonde hair and tanned body to perfection. She didn’t wear a bra and, despite a little apprehension about the way her tits swayed as she walked, it felt good to her to let herself relax a little.

David said appreciatively “Wow, Mom you look hot! The guys are going to love the way you look tonight!”

Jess and David busied themselves in the kitchen mixing up a couple of big pitchers of margaritas. When David wasn’t looking she added a little extra tequila to give everyone a little head start on the evening’s fun and to give herself some extra courage. Just before dark, while Jessica was busy, David ordered some food to be delivered as they waited for everyone to arrive.

Moments later the doorbell rang and David went to let everyone in.

He made introductions as they came into the living room. “Mom, this is Ryan, Tyler, Cole and Ryan’s friend Sara.”

“Hi, Mrs. Martin! Thanks for having us over tonight. David has told us so much about you.” Ryan said with a sly grin on his face.

“Well Ryan, David has told me a lot about you too! I hope you measure up to what he has said!” Jessica said teasingly.

Her face flushed a little as Jessica looked at the three guys and found them to be all around her son’s age and good looking. Like David it was obvious that they all played sports and were in good shape.

Sara is a pretty brunette of the same age as the rest of the group with short brown hair and nice slim figure. Like the others she seemed to radiate youthful good health.

“Come on in, guys.” Jessica said. “Make your selves at home. There will be food arriving soon and there are some pitchers of cold margaritas in the kitchen. So go ahead and grab a glass and help yourselves.”

As they all followed her into the kitchen she overheard someone say “Dude, your mom looks even hotter than I remembered. This is going to be great!”

The guys all eagerly poured tall glasses of margaritas and settled in the living room to devour the food and cold drinks.

“Sara what are you doing here with David’s friends tonight? Jessica asked. “I think we all know what kind of a night this will be, but I’m not sure if you know what you’ve gotten your self into.”

Sara said, “Well, Mrs. Martin, I just couldn’t believe it when Ryan told me about you and David, so I had to come see for myself. I have to admit that the thought of having sex with three or four guys at once is really hot! I hope you don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind at all. You might even want to join in as things get going, right boys?

After two or three of Jessica’s extra strong margaritas everyone began to get pretty relaxed and the tone of the party began to change as the boys kept admiring Jess’s beauty.

When Jessica came back from the kitchen with another pitcher of drinks David said “Mom, I promised the guys that this would be an evening to remember, and everyone is dying to see what you look like naked. So why don’t you take off your top and show them your tits to get things started?”

Jessica, now slightly unsteady from all that she had to drink, set down the pitcher of drinks and said with a little slur “Sure boys, why not?”

She stood in the middle of the floor to slowly lift her black tank top up to just under her breasts. Teasingly, she said “Are you guys sure you want to see more?”

“Yes, yes!!!!” They all chorused.

“Ok, Tyler, why don’t you come over here and help me with my top?”