Posts Tagged ‘mom’
18 year old Mike Hampton stood in the doorway to his living room and the sight he beheld made his already hard young cock grow painfully harder in the tight yellow Speedos he still wore from swim practice. He had gotten home a few minutes earlier and had dumped his t-shirt, towel and sweats in the laundry and was headed to his room to cruise the internet for porn to help relieve the knot that always built up in his young balls at practice. Being an always horny 18 year old, the sight of all those tight young bodies in wet Lycra never failed keep him half hard through practice and by the end of the two hour session he usually had some seriously over bloated nuts to pop.
Stroking his hefty 8 inch cock and emptying his aching balls was all that was on his mind but as he was about to take the back stairs to his room, he heard a soft moaning coming down the hall from the front living room. His cock responded to the noise by stretching his Speedo even more. Holding his stiff member and lightly pinching the head, feeling the pre-cum leak through the overstretched Speedo, Mike headed quietly toward the noise.
As he got closer the noises got louder. It was definitely the sounds of someone having sex. It was probably his older sister and her boyfriend. They had a pension for having sex wherever the urge hit them and he had spied on them a couple of times before. Once in the garage and once while they were out back on a chaise lounge. Both times he had stroked himself off to their frantic sex and was sure he would be able to do the same now. Sex right in front of him certainly beat sex on his computer.
Taking the last few steps as silently as he could put him to where he stood now, mouth open and his large cock painfully pulsing against the slick material, staring at the scene before him. He had peeked around the door frame expecting to see his sister and was totally blown away by what he saw instead. Instead of seeing his sister, the person on the couching moaning and cooing was his 40 year old mother Laura! And, what made him even harder was that she was straddling one of the largest blackest cocks he had ever seen and it was buried to the hilt in his mother’s grasping asshole.
She was facing him but her head was thrown back, eyes shut and a high pitched keening was issuing from her mouth. She was completely dressed in what she usually wore to work; a nicely tailored business suit, a beautiful silk blouse, black stockings and shiny black two inch heels. Only now the skirt was bunched around her middle and she had her gorgeous aqua blue Victoria’s Secret full cut bikini panties pulled to the side to allow that huge black cock access to her over stretched asshole. He had jerked off many times into that pair of panties whenever he found them dirty in her hamper and few times they had been overly crusty and used. Now he knew why. His lovely divorced mother had been hitting it with this black dude with the giant cock.
Still stroking his turgid cock through his now soaked Speedos, he stealthily moved closer to the action before him. Neither one had noticed that he had stepped into the room. His mother was slowly pulling herself up from that throbbing black cock revealing the overly thick 12 inches that had been buried balls deep in her slickened anal chute so that just the head was still in her. He could see her asshole squeeze the man’s cock head a few times before she slowly pushed down taking the amazingly long steely cock back into her stretched out ass.
He held his breath as he watched inch after inch of black veined cock flesh slowly slip back into his mother. After what seemed like an eternity, his mother’s asshole came to rest on the smooth goose egg sized balls that hung below that huge dripping cock in a ball sack that looked like soft velvet. They visibly jumped and danced in their nut sack wanting no doubt to release the load that was making them so bloated. She let out a low moan and her body shivered in delight around that big black dick. The cock buried to the hilt in his mother’s ass was so dark and his mother’s skin was so fair and the wet aqua panties that framed their sex were so hot that he couldn’t help but grasp his rigid staff, which by now was freely oozing an abundance of his pre-cum. As he squeezed more of his young fluid from his aching sheath and before he could stop himself, a low moan escaped his own lips.
His mother’s eyes shot open and she lifted her head and stared right at him. He was no more than a few feet from them and froze like a deer caught in headlights. She didn’t say a word but shifted her stare from his eyes down his muscled torso to the wet lump he grasped in his bright yellow Speedo. When she had fully drunk in the sight of her son stroking his leaking cock in his swimsuit before her, her gaze shifted back to his bright red face.
He was about ready to run from the room when she said, “like what you see, son? Why don’t you come closer for a better look?” She turned to her head back to the man beneath her, “Charles, we have company. I hope you don’t mind.” Charles peered from around his mother and when Mike saw his face he knew immediately who it was. His mother was being royally ass fucked by their mailman Mr. Simpson.
In his low rumble of a voice Mr. Simpson said, “Don’t mind at all. It’s real hot having your boy watching me fuck your sweet tight ass. By the looks of those little Speedos, he seems to like watching too. Come closer boy. Kneel down here between my legs and gets a real good look at my big black cock slidin’ in and out of your mama’s ass.”
Laura held her hand out to her son and he took it with the slimy hand that he had been stroking his leaking cock with. “Ooh,” she said with a voice thick with lust as she felt his slickened palm, “you really do like what you see. You have quite the mess there in your Speedo.” She pulled him gently forward and he knelt as she did so.
He was now only a few inches away from where Mr. Simpson’s big black cock was plugged into his mother’s over stretched asshole. He looked up into his mother’s face as she stared down at him just in time to see her lick the mess out of the palm of her hand, the mess he had left on it. This act made him even harder, if that were possible, and he slowly began to stroke himself though his wasted Speedo.
He could barely breathe as he watched his mother pull up again from Mr. Simpson’s impossibly large cock. Painstakingly she rose up on that big black cock as slowly as she could. The giant cock and his mother’s wide open asshole was all that filled his vision. Up close, the cock looked bigger than it had from his first vantage point. He couldn’t believe that his tiny mother could fit something that huge in her ass but the proof was in the pudding and as she reached the point where the only thing left in her asshole was the head of Mr. Simpson’s monster cock she pushed back down again and he watched as her abused chute greedily sucked it back in as far as it would go.
With his face being mere inches from their dripping communion, Mike could smell their sex just reeking from them. Still stroking his obscenely hard cock through the now transparent Speedos he unconsciously licked his lips.
Laura saw her son’s tongue snake out between his lips and shivered at the thought that he found Charles and her sex apparently mouthwatering. She began to wiggle her ass back and forth on the root of Charles’ big cock. The more she wiggled, the more her swollen pussy gushed and leaked her juice out bathing Charles’ big cock and balls with her womanly slather. Her son just stared wide eyed at their joining. She watched as he leaned in a little closer and took a long inhale of their sex. He licked his lips again and began stroking his Speedo encased cock even faster.
“You REALLY like what you see, don’t you?” she asked her transfixed son.
Mike barely shook his head but she saw it bob up and down.
“It’s alright if you want to touch us. Go ahead, I know you want to. I can tell by the way you’re looking at Charles’ big dick that you want to touch it. It’s alright. I don’t think Charles would mind, would you Charles?”
“Not at all, babe,” he replied in his rumble tones. “Go ahead boy, you can do anything you want too. A mom and her son workin’ my big nut out is hot as hell! Go on boy. Don’t be afraid. It aint gonna bite ya. It may spit at ya though!” he laughed and that made his big cock pulse in his mother’s ass.
Tentatively, Mike reached out with the hand that was not busy pleasuring his hard rod and gingerly ran his finger tips over the bloated black nut sack that hung before him. The large balls began to dance in their smooth soft sack. Upon hearing a moan escaping Mr. Simpson’s mouth he became bolder and cupped the large nuts in the palm of his hand. The balls were so big that Mike had to stop stroking himself and use both hands on Mr. Simpson.
Mike held one of Mr. Simpson’s swollen nuts in each hand and began to massage and rub them for all he was worth. Mike hefted them up and the skin from Mr. Simpson’s nut sack poured over his hands. He fondled them and tugged on them, feeling them becoming more and more bloated as he did so.
“Woo hoo, boy that feels awesome.” Mr. Simpson growled as he began to pump in and out of his mother’s ass. “The only thing better, would be your sweet little mouth on ‘em!”
Laura reached down between her splayed legs and held her son’s face up so she could look him directly in the eyes. “Do you want to kiss them honey? Its okay if you do. If it feels good, do it. Don’t worry baby Mommy would love to see you suck on those big black balls. Go on, let mama watch you work over those big black nuts. Help Charles unload in your Mommy’s ass.”
Mike held his mother’s gaze for a few seconds more and then he did something he never thought he’d do. As he held Mr. Simpson’s large swollen balls, which were covered in his mother’s silken pussy juice, in his hands he leaned over and lightly kissed one then the other. When he pulled up, his lips were covered in his mother’s incredibly delicious juice which he licked off immediately and without any further hesitation, leaned back in and began to swath Mr. Simpson’s balls with his tongue. It was all he could do to control himself. In fact, he couldn’t control himself and he began to feed and suck and lick on Mr. Simpson’s smooth nuts like there was no tomorrow. He would suck one big ball into his mouth and then the other. He would chew on the smooth excess skin of Mr. Simpson’s scrotum and then rub them all over his face. Mike made a complete pig of himself on Mr. Simpsons nuts. He couldn’t stop himself from licking all of his mother’s juice from the giant sack.
Laura watched as her son worked the massive black balls of her mailman lover. By the sounds that Charles was making, she knew his nut was not far off. The friction of the monstrous cock in her ass and the fact that her 18 year old son, still in his sexy little Speedo, had a mouthful of her lover’s nuts was pushing here closer to her own climax.
Mike looked up at his mother to discover that she was intently watching him work over Mr. Simpson’s balls. Still looking her directly in the eye he sucked the left nut into his mouth and pulled back till it plopped out of his mouth with and audible pop. Then he did the same to the right one. He wanted to be as nasty as he could for her so while still holding her gaze, he began to lick up the underside of Mr. Simpson’s cock, nibbling and kissing the large pulsing vein as he made his way toward where Mr. Simpson and his mother were connected.
Mike didn’t stop. He got closer and closer to where they were joined in their messy ass fuck and, looking his mother in the eyes, swiped his tongue right across her asshole and Mr. Simpson’s badgering cock. He did more than swipe, he dined. Mike licked and sucked for all he was worth. He stuck his tongue into his mother’s asshole as Mr. Simpson also pumped furiously into it. He could taste them both and it made him want more. He fed like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Laura held her son’s gaze as he worked over her ass and Charles big cock with his relentless tongue. Mike looked at her with his tongue buried in her ass along with Charles’ steel rod horse cock and winked at her. That did it. Her son’s nasty wink pushed her over the edge. With a high pitched keening she began to cum hard. She came so hard that she squirted a large stream of juice out of her swollen pussy that drenched Mike’s face and Charles’ pounding cock. Through all this, she never broke eye contact with her son.
Mike’s face was blessedly covered in his mother’s tasty cum and still he did not stop his persistent tonguing of their nether region. Mr. Simpson was sawing his fat cock in and out of his mother’s ass with total abandoned when suddenly he pulled all but his cockhead out of her and held stock still. Mike nursed on the large vein right where it disappeared into his mother’s ass when he felt Mr. Simpson’s cock suddenly grown bigger and then the huge vein he had been nursing on bloated up and he could feel Mr. Simpson’s nut rushing through his cock, past his sucking lips and begin filling his mother’s abused asshole with his scalding black seed.
“There it is.” Mr. Simpsons sighed. “Your boy done good, Laura.” He said leaving his cock in her ass.
Mike worked the underside of Mr. Simpson’s cock until it softened enough to pop out of his mother’s worn asshole. There was a mixture of Mr. Simpson’s seed and his mother’s ass juice clinging to the deflating cockhead and Mike made no bones about popping it into his mouth and making sure it was completely cleaned of both their juices.
Mike sat back on his haunches and licked their mess off his lips. He scooped a big blob of their mixed juices from Mr. Simpson’s now sated balls and greedily sucked his fingers clean. He couldn’t believe how wonderful they both tasted. He wanted more.
His mother must have read his thoughts because she stood up leaving Mr. Simpson basking in his after cum glow and pushed him on his back. She pulled the gusset of her satiny aqua panties back over her dripping sex and stood over him with a two inch black high heel on either side of his head.
“Open up,” she said as she slowly lowered herself toward his face. “There’s more where that came from.”
Mike opened his mouth and his mother placed her panty covered, swollen beyond belief asshole right over it. She made sure her asshole was seated in his mouth. Her asshole was so swollen that it pushed obscenely against the drenched gusset of her sexy panties.
“Tongue it.” She said when she was finally settled. “Tongue mommy’s swollen rosebud you naughty boy. Tongue it good and you’ll get more of what you crave.”
Mike licked and nipped at the smooth wet satin that clung to her swollen ass lips. He ran his tongue around her engorged asshole and stuck it in her as her asshole greedily sucked at his probing tongue. Laura looked down at her sweet boy and could see his eyes looking back at hers. She reached down and gently stroked her fingers through his tousled hair. She could feel his probing tongue working her battered asshole.
“Ready?” she asked staring into his lovely blue eyes.
She felt him nod, unable to answer her with his mouth so full.
“Here.” She said and pushed down against his mouth.
Mike felt her swollen asshole open up against his tongue. He held her gaze as she pushed harder a second time and then he felt and tasted the sudden rush of Mr. Simpson’s spent load as it poured from her battered chute. He sucked and licked greedily at the tasty mess that gushed from his well fucked mother. There was a tremendous amount but that didn’t surprise him considering the size of the Mr. Simpson’s huge nuts. His mother kept bearing down until the flow became a trickle and he had sucked her torn asshole clean of Mr. Simpson’s spent seed.
When she had pushed the last of Charles’ mess out of her ass, through her soaked panties and into her son’s insatiable licking mouth Laura slowly laid herself down on top of her son and licked up what remained of Charles load as it slid down his chin. When she had collected what he’d missed, she opened her mouth above his and let the final bit of it slip from her tongue to his and ended by giving him a big soulful French kiss. He greedily sucked at the tip of her tongue as she pulled away.
“My aren’t we the hungry little man.” She said as she sat up next to him. Looking down between his muscled thighs she said, “Looks like its your turn.”
She could see the sizable lump in his yellow Speedos and knew he needed release. She kissed her way down his chest and torso and clamped her mouth around the rigid head of his cock as it pushed against the filmy material of his Speedo. She used her long red fingernails to tease and tickle his overly swollen nuts and applied suction to the swollen glans in her mouth.
“Oh mom, that’s it! I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” he shouted just as a huge rush of thick viscous cum shot out of his cock through his clingy yellow Speedo and into her suckling mouth. He kept cumming. There was so much that she couldn’t keep it all in her mouth and it ran out coating his already drenched Speedo. She kept as much of it in her mouth as she could and when his spasms began to subside she leaned up to him again opened her mouth and shared his load with him. Once again he greedily sucked at her tongue getting every bit of his load from her and gulping it down like a man possessed.
When there was no more for him to eat, he lay back and stared up at her with loving eyes. “You’re the best.” He said and kissed her again.
“No, you are.” She said and squeezed his now soft cock through his sticky Speedo.
“No,” Mr. Simpson said from the couch as he waved his cock at them which was hard again from the show mother and son had just put on for him, “get over here and I’ll be the judge.”
Joe Sims was your typical everyday teenager, he was 18 years old and finishing up his senior year in high school and was looking to graduate near the top of his class. He typically ran track everyday after school but today his practice was rained out and he had to return home early. He was not to horribly upset as he was tired from all the practices they had been doing lately and was looking forward to a day off.
He walked quietly to his car in the rain and threw his gym bag into the backseat as he pushed the start button and the car roared to life. As he griped the shifter and was about to put the car into drive his cell phone rang. He quickly grabbed his bag from the backseat and ruffled through it trying to silence the annoying ringer. He finally finds it under his jeans as he answers it. “Hello.”
“Hey babe did you get rained out today?” asked the perky voice on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, we did, I worked out in the weight room for a bit but I am not to upset about it though I wasn’t looking forward to another practice today.” Joe said as he yawned and stretched his legs trying to get his 6’4 inch frame comfortable in his small car.
“Well you know you could come by and see me at work before you go home today, between school and work and your school and track meets I would like to see you more.”
“Kara I would love to but every time I come by that place I end up smelling like onions all night.” He said with a laugh as he jokes about his girlfriends job.
“I was just joking babe I know you hate this place, but it is paying the bills that daddy isn’t picking up so a girl’s got to do what a girl’s go to do.” Kara said with a grin as she twirled the phone cord around her long fingers.
“I tell you what this weekend we will go out and have a good time, I know we haven’t seen each other enough lately with your college finals coming up and all my practices. But I am sure we can get together this weekend.”
“Okay babe sounds good to me, you know I love you and be careful on the drive home.”
“I love you too and I will.” Joe sighed as he threw his phone back in the bag. He loved Kara so much they had been together for so long but it had been getting harder and harder for them with her already in college and him still finishing High School. He began to talk out loud to himself as he took the long way home to think. “I love her so much, but we never see each other. I am so tired of waiting on her to be ready to have sex. But I care for her like no other.” He played point counter point with himself on the entire ride home not ever really resolving anything. But he had grown to find this self arguments therapeutic more then anything.
He turned the steering wheel of his car and pulled into the driveway along side his mom’s car. He had beaten his dad home again. He quickly grabbed up his bag and headed inside the house, yelling for his mom he got no answer as he headed towards his bedroom. Joe threw all his bags into the chair in his room as he turned on his radio, music blared from the speakers as he stripped down to nothing. “I need a shower bad!” He laughed to himself as he smelled his arm pits.
Joe then walks across his room stopping to check himself out in the mirror flexing his muscles and then laughing at himself for acting so silly. He opens the door to his private bathroom and is met by the sight of his mother in his shower. He freezes with shock as his eyes trace up his mothers body. The hot steam of the shower barely obscuring anything from his view. “Oh my god” he whispers to himself under his breath as he is shocked at the sight of her body.
Lana Sims was in the shower letting the steamy hot water relax her every muscle as she soaped up her hair. The water and soap running down her tan body blissfully unaware that her own son was looking at her naked as she soaped herself.
Joe thought he should move, but could not his body was stuck there his eyes glued to his mothers body, he traced her 36DD breasts with his eyes over and over again. All his friends had always joked about how his mom was the perfect milf but Joe never payed them any attention until now. He couldn’t help it he felt his cock getting hard as he looked on.
Lana finally rinsed all the soap from her face and body as she turned off the shower and opened the door to discover her son looking at her. “Oh shit! Joe I am so sorry I thought you had practice today, and your dad still has not fixed the shower in our room I apologize so much for this it has to be embarrassing for you.” She said with a smile as her guys saw her sons big hard cock.
“Ah no its cool mom.” Joe stammered to answer as he quickly turned around to hide his cock from his mom. “Isn’t it a bit embarrassing for you as well mom?”
“oh kind of sweetie, but you know me I don’t let much bother me.” Lana said with a laugh as she wrapped herself in the white cotton towel. She had always been a free spirit her and her husband married shorty after she became pregnant with her son she was only 36 and he was 18, they had actually grown up together somewhat. “If you give momma a quick second to dress I will be right out okay.”
Joe without a word closed the bathroom door and grabbed his clothes off the floor, he quickly dressed himself in his dirty laundry and ran out the door and down the steps. “What the fuck was that!” He said aloud to himself as he looked at the massive tent pole in his pants. He could hear his mom calling for him as he made the quick decision to get out of the house. He quietly closed the door and walked down the road in the rain trying to think about anything but his mom’s naked body.
Lana steps out into the hallway in just enough time to see the front door close as she calls for her son one last time. She smiles to herself as she feels her body tingling knowing she must have really had an impact on him as he left the way he did. “Well girl you still go it!” She laughed to herself as she walked into her bedroom and dropped her towel to the floor. She eyed her own body up and down, she worked hard to stay in shape her breasts were 36DD but still firm her tummy was flat and firm and her butt was a bit rounder then she liked but it too was firm.
Lana eyed herself up and down some more as she thought about how big and hard she had made her sons cock. The more she thought about the more turned on she became her hand slowly working its way to her pussy she teased herself in the mirror as she started to get more and more turned on her excitement was broken up by the sounds of the front door slamming shut.
“Honey, I’m home!” Lana’s husband Steve yelled from the doorway as he tosses his brief case on a nearby table.
“Hey sweetie, I’m in the bedroom!” Lana yelled back as she continued looking over herself in the mirror teasing her clit slowly.
Steve raced up the steps to see his wife, as he reaches the top of the stairs he can see his lovely wife standing there fully naked teasing herself. “Oh my Lana, what are you doing?” Steve questioned as he swallows hard and loosens his tie.
“I need you right now!” Lana says as she exhales hard and grabs her husband and pulls him in closer. Their lips meeting as all of Lana’s built up lust takes control of her body as her tongue forces her way into her husbands mouth. Their tongues swirling together as she begins pawing and pulling at his clothing.
“It is good to see you too baby!” Steve says to Lana as he pulls his lips away from hers just as she drops down to her knees and begins to suck on his just freed cock.
Lana’s lips wrapped tightly around Steve’s dick as she sucks it up and down fast and deep. She drools and slobbers all over his meat as she sucks like she has not sucked in a long time.
Steve picking up on Lana’s out of control lust wraps his hands up in her hair and begins thrusting his 8 inch thick cock into her mouth. He groans hard as he begins fucking her mouth pulling his cock nearly out before thrusting it all the way back in his balls slapping her chin. “Fuck yeah!” He groans as he has not had his wife in such a way in years.
“Fuck me baby! I need it so badly!” Lana begged for the relief she needed as her fingers worked over her pussy as Steve pulls his cock from her mouth and slaps it on her lips.
Steve grabs his wife picking her up from the floor and tossing her on the bed as spreads her legs wide teasing her pussy with his cock before finally inserting it balls deep into her. “Oh fucking hell, baby you are tight!” He groans as he continues pulling out and then shoving it back into her fast and hard.
“Oh yes baby I need it, I need it harder!” Lana’s body was on fire as she needed to cum and she needed it bad. Steve’s cock was thrusting and pounding her hard, both their bodies covered in sweat as both groaned and moaned together. ” I want to be on top, let me ride your dick.”
Steve wraps his arms around his wife rolling them both over and pulling her on top of him. He grasps her large breasts and begins squeezing them hard as his wife begins bouncing her ass up and down her pussy lips spread wide to take her husbands cock.
Lana can see herself in the mirror as she bucks her hips up and down on Steve’s dick. She can feel her body burning as she nears the relief she has been craving. “Oh fuck yes!” She screams a loud as she begins cumming on her husband’s cock, her eyes clinched shut her body quivering.
Steve still not satisfied as it has been a long time since Lana had been so horny like this he wraps his arms around her and continues fucking her. His hands grasping her hips thrusting upwards into her faster and harder.
Lana’s clinched eyes slowly open as Steve’s cock keeps pounding into her without mercy. Her eyes take a few moments to focus, as she realizes she can see the outline of her son Joe standing in the doorway his impressive teenage cock in his hand stroking it hard. Lana tries hard to keep her eyes diverted as so Joe does not know he is being watched. Joe stands in the doorway in what he thinks is just out of sight stroking himself hard. Having just came home from his run in the rain, he had hoped the situation with his mother would just have gone away, but having come home to such a sight as these he was losing control of himself much the way his mother had moments earlier with Steve.
Steve holding Lana tightly continued his thrusting as he neared cumming inside her. “Oh baby!” His gripped tightened as his cock jerks and explodes inside her. “I needed that so badly.” He said breathlessly as his wife rolled off him onto the bed. Her pussy filled with his cum as she rubs it then slowly sucks her fingers.
Joe having seen his parents finish sneaks off to his room to hide and finish what he started in the hallway. “What the hell is wrong with me that is my Mom?” He sits on his bed stroking his cock like crazy still.
Steve and Lana both get up off the bed catching their breath as they gather up the clothes they left scattered about the room. Steve holding his clothes in his hands heads into his bathroom.
“Babe you still haven’t fixed that shower.” Lana says with a smile thinking in the back of her mind how she would never been in the mood she was in had it not been for the broken shower.
“Why do you look so happy about that?”
“Oh no reason.” She grins as she twirls her long brown hair.
“I guess I will just have to use the guest bathroom.” Steve says as he heads down stairs to the other bathroom to get cleaned up.
“Oh yeah the guest bathroom.” She laughs aloud as the sudden thought of the guest bathroom enters her mind. She giggles a little to herself as she thinks about how if she just used it earlier then none of these thoughts of her son would be entering her mind right now.
Steve and Lana share a quick shower where the thoughts of her son once again enter her mind and while soaping her husbands cock she gives him a quick hand job in the shower. He grasps the side of the shower as his cock explodes again covering the walls of the shower, Lana smiles as she closes her eyes and thinks about it being her son she was jerking off in the shower.
Joe finally relieving himself the best he could, gathered his composure and headed down stairs meeting his parents just as they were exiting the guest bathroom. “Hey sport, how was track today?” Steve playfully slugged his son in the arm as he questioned him.
“Uh well it was canceled so, I uh just doubled up my time in the weight room.” Joe answered as he carefully thought out an answer all the while his face turning a deep shade of crimson.
Lana walking slowly from the guest bathroom as she listens to Steve and Joe discuss their days, and heads into the kitchen. “I can’t quit thinking bout him what am I going to do?” She asks herself as she begins to prepare dinner.
Joe and Steve sit in the living room and flip channels on the television as they wait for dinner. They make small talk about a variety of things. Joe sits there and holds his end of the conversation the best he can even though his cock is still semi-erect. Steve more interested in the episode of Sports Center then the small talk with his son, is unaware to his sons discomfort.
“Dinner is done!” Lana yells from the dining room as she sets the last plate on the table and takes her seat.
The two men rush to the table both quite hungry, Steve from his exploits earlier and Joe from over working himself in the weight room then running off as seeing his mother.
Lana tried to just eat her dinner and not think about her son, but it was not working the image of his teenage cock was still so fresh in her mind. She and Steve had been married since he got her pregnant at 17 years old. She loved her husband with all her heart but after so many years things were just so routine. The idea that a studly 18 year old boy was aroused for her, set her pussy on fire. She was unaware as to what all the teen boys in the are thought of her, all of them always telling Joe how they wanted her badly.
Steve and her had often talked about doing new and kinky things in the bedroom like they did in their youth. But these days more often then not, he was just all talk. In their younger days after their son was born and he stayed out with his grandparents, they would often engage in wild sexual exploits involving toys or other people joining them. But as they got older he just slowly stopped it all and their sex life became very vanilla. And now as she sat there looking across the table at her own son her mind racing 100 miles per hour. She knew what she needed and as wrong as it would be, it was her son she needed.
“So Joe, sweetie how was your day?” Lana asked as she took a bite to eat. Then slowly wrapped her full red lips around a straw she had placed in her drink.
“Well you know mom pretty average, nothing special” Joe stammered for the answer not knowing what his mother was possibly hinting at wanting to know.
“Well that is good. Oh and Steve sweetie you really need to fix our shower. Poor Joe here came home early and walked in on me showering in his.”
Joe sits there silent as his face turns a deeper shade of red he ever thought possible.
“I thought you said you doubled your work out and just now got home?” Steve asked wondering if his son had lied to him.
“I did, I mean I uh did yeah I came home walked in on mom and well I uh figured I would go back to the gym since she was using my shower.”
“Neither of you thought to use the other bathroom.” Steve asked as he is confused about the situation.
“Nope” Both Lana and Joe answer at the same time.
Steve just laughs at them both and continues shoveling the food into his mouth. He was slightly older then Lana, and the last few years had worn on him. They fought a lot more then normal about everything from sex to money. He thought to himself that maybe this little sexual escapade when he came home was a sign things were turning a corner for the better for them. “Well son it is not like your old mom here isn’t hot stuff. I mean am I right or what? I mean couldn’t have been to bad seeing her in all her glory?” Steve tried to make light of the situation all the while not knowing the feeling both his wife and son had been having since it occurred.
“Actually no dad it wasn’t bad I can see why so many of my friends check mom out now.” Joe’s face burned as he got through that answer without stammering at all. And actually felt surprisingly confident as he said it.
“So Joe, did you see anything interesting on that second trip to the gym? Because I thought you just ran down the road after our little run in.”
“I thought I saw you just go out the front door. I never heard your car start. And I thought I heard the front door when your father and I were still in the bedroom” Lana playfully raised her eyebrows, she really just wanted her son to admit he seen them and that he liked it. Her mind raced as to how hot that would be to hear him admit it.
Joe’s confidence quickly eroded as he wondered if in fact his mother caught him spying on them having sex earlier. “I uh well?” Joe stammered again and this time his mind went right back to the sight of his mother’s heaving breasts as she rode his father. His cock sprang to life again as he threw his napkin on the table and ran upstairs to his room.
“Okay, I’m lost what the fuck just happened here?” Asked Steve with a slightly angry tone as he too throws his napkin on the table.
“Calm down! Look here is what happened. He was about to get into his shower when he walked in and caught me in there. He was naked and he got turned on by me. And then he did just run off he hightailed in out the front door. So when you got home I will admit it I was turned on by the fact I turned on a teenager. So that is why I was so horny, and while I was on top he caught us.”
“What?” Asked Steve as his mind struggled to comprehend the story he was just told.
“He caught us he was jerking off in the hallway watching. And well I thought it was hot. I just for some reason wanted him to admit it.”
“Oh my god, Lana what have you done?”
“Me, me what the hell have I done? I’m mostly innocent here he is the one who was spying on us.”
“We need to go talk to him right now, you know this right?”
“Yeah I do but, honey it is going to be way way uncomfortable.”
“Well I am sure you can find a way to ease his discomfort.”
Lana lays her napkin on the table unsure of what her husbands last comment was supposed to mean as she follows him upstairs to Joe’s room.
“Open the door son we all need to talk!” Yelled Steve as he knocked with a great deal of force on the door.
“Go away both of you please just let me get through all this myself. I don’t want or need a talk.”
“Baby its momma please open the door, I am so sorry.”
Steve grasp the door knob tightly as he throws his shoulder into it popping it open.
“Get out please!” Joe pleads as he sits there his cock hard as steel and bulging his pants.
Lana slowly sits beside her son and kisses his cheek before she wraps her arm around him. “I am so sorry I don’t know what came over me baby.”
Steve grabs a nearby chair knocking all the stuff out of it he drags it over to the bed side to sit int front of them and join the talk. “Mom is just a bit wild sometimes sport, she is sorry that she freaked you, but you are 18 I mean should she really still be having to hide things from you? So you saw us is it really a big deal?” Steve tried his best to downplay the situation as his thoughts wandered back to the old days that he too missed, of when he watched his wife fuck and suck other men. His cock slowly began to stir in his pants as well.
Lana looked at her husbands bulging pants and then looked to her sons bulge as well. Her pussy dripped with excitement as he realized she had two throbbing dicks all for her.
I was sitting on the couch watching TV when Jenny, my 18-year old daughter, came into the room wearing her sweat shorts and tee shirt ready to go to bed after saying good night to her mom and dad. Jenny is a gorgeous little girl and being a former high school tennis player she had, what I call, a slightly over-developed body for her age. She has incredible thighs, 36C breasts just like her mother, a flat tummy, and golden brown hair. She is my princess and I love her with all my heart and soul. Since she turned 18 and started at the local community college I don’t get to see her as much as I used to. So these Friday evening family times were very precious to us.
Jenny walks in, says Hi to her mom, walks over to me and says: “What’s up ‘old man? Hey can we talk about my class trip to Europe dad?”
She sits on my leg but slowly slides into my lap like she has always done. She starts telling me about her day and plans for the next day and any juicy news. On this particular night she spent most of her time talking about why I should pay over ten thousand dollars for her to go to Europe for two months during summer. All the while she is squirming and wiggling and moving around in my lap. She does not sit still. She also knows that her daddy will do anything for her when she sits in his lap and bats her eye lashes and pouts her lips. Even at 18 it works on her dad.
My wife, Jenny’s mother, comes in the room wearing only a long tee shirt and panties and never a bra. This is my favorite outfit on her. She sits down on the couch opposite to us and proceeds to watch TV. A few minutes later she is more into watching the daddy-daughter interaction than the TV. My hands slowly stroke Jenny’s hair as my other hand slides around her waist and rests on her cute tummy. I involuntarily pull Jenny towards me. She snuggles into my lap deeper. I can feel her round butt in my lap and her whole body on me. Jenny loves to rest her head on my shoulders while I am contemplating a decision for her or she wants to be extra sweet to me.
As I have my small talk with Jenny she gets comfortable in daddy’s lap with little squirming, a bit of wiggling and some snuggling into me. My hand caresses her tummy, her gorgeous white thighs and just about any part of her body daddy feels need caressing. I look over to my wife to see if she has any opinion on her Europe trip but instead I see her having a flustered look on her. She looks all worked up. Her hand is snug between her legs pressing gently and she is slowly opening and closing her legs. She bites her lower lip a few times and I realized that she is getting turned on watching our baby girl sitting in her daddy’s lap. I smiled at her and got “oh daddy I love you” look back from my wife. Coincidently, just then, Jenny softly turns around, looks at me and says:
“I love you daddy.”
Did she notice her mother’s reaction? Did she somehow understand her mother’s unspoken words of lust towards her husband? Those words out of Jenny’s mouth simply melted my heart and made my cock harder.
I was nervous but I wanted to do more with Jenny. Show her how much I love and care about her. I also wanted to test my theory about my wife and started to take it a bit further and asked Jenny if she was enjoying sitting in daddy’s lap just like old times. Jenny said that she always loved sitting in daddy’s lap and that it makes her feel comfortable and real good. She looked back at me smiled.
Jenny: “Daddy I love you daddy.” and kissed my cheek. I said:
Me: “I love you too pumpkin,” and gave her a peck and then a kiss on the lips.
Jenny: “Oh that was a good kisses daddy.” And she giggled.
Me: “Only for my baby girl. And if you are a good girl, daddy will give you kisses like that every day.”
When I looked over at my wife hoping that she really enjoyed this additional interaction between daddy and daughter, I was surprised to see that her tee shirt was almost up to her crotch, and her legs were slightly open and her hand was pressed up against her pussy. Also her cleavage and half of left breast was almost exposed and hard nipples sticking out. She probably fondled them when I was talking to Jenny. Seeing my wife getting all worked up while watching Jenny wiggle and squirm in daddy’s lap made me very hard and it painfully pressed against my shorts. I am pretty sure that at this point Jenny could probably feel something hard and large poking her underneath but she didn’t say anything.
I continued to talk with Jenny and let my hands roam around her sweet body while keeping a sharp eye on my wife. She now had put a light soft throw over her knees so she would not accidentally expose herself to Jenny. However I could tell by the movement under it that my wife probably had her hand inside her panties and was rubbing herself fast and hard. Her eyes were slightly open and she was looking in our direction, her lips were quivering and she was breathing heavy. After about 10 minutes of intense workup my wife got up and went up to our bedroom. By this time, Jenny had already wiggled so much in my lap that I had a wet spot on my shorts, her shorts and panties were bunched up on one side and she was breathing heavy as was I. I kissed Jenny hard on her cheeks and neck and I walked her up to her room. We stood in her room facing each other. I gave her a tight hug that lasted over two minutes. My full body including my raging hard-on was pressed against her. I told her that she is an amazing baby girl and that she is daddy’s princess. After I heard, ‘I love you dad, you are awesome” from Jenny, I looked deep into her eyes and then gave her a kiss on her lips with our bodies still connected. After about a minute of me kissing her sweet gorgeous pink lips I looked into her eyes and whacked her cute butt a couple times and we both laughed. After I put Jenny to bed, I went to my bedroom where I found my wife standing there looking at me with the sexiest look I have ever seen. She was wearing a large tee shirt and no panties or no bra. She had let her hair down. I could see her hard nipples poking out of her thin tee shirt material. The room had a certain smell of sex all around.
Wife: So did you tuck Jenny in? Was she okay?
Me: Yes she is okay. She is a good girl.
Wife: Oh she is a very good girl I just lover her to death. Our angel. But she is a daddy’s girl first and foremost.
Me: She is a cutie pie. But you know how girls are. They adore their dads. I love her honey she is my princess.
Wife: Yes I know Mark. She loves sitting in your lap and wiggling that ass of hers for sure, and you seem to not complain. (Gleaming eyes, big smile)
Me: Are you jealous? Do you want to sit in daddy’s lap too?
Wife: (Serious looking) Yeah I do daddy. Are you going to disappoint your baby girl daddy or are you going to have her sit in your lap right now?
Me: (Looking deep into my wife’s eyes I give her a big grin and my cock is now raging hard) I am one never to disappoint my baby girl. Come here sweetie, come sit in daddy’s lap.
I removed my boxers, kept my tee shirt on and sat down on the chair. My wife smiled and walked up to me. She lifted her large tee shirt up around her waist exposing her sexy tight around ass and smooth pussy and sat down in my lap facing her back to me just like Jenny was earlier. She started wiggling her butt in my lap and calling me big daddy and giggling like a schoolgirl. I was getting harder feeling my wife’s hot ass on my cock. She lifted herself up from my lap long enough to put her own hands under her butt spread them wide and sit back down onto daddy’s cock. As my fat cock slid inside her tight crack, a moan escaped from her mouth and mine at the same time. She kept saying,
“I love you daddy” as she continued to wiggle her ass in my lap.
My thick cock was nicely snug in the crack of her ass and it felt great. The rubbery swollen tip of my cock was poking her ass hole and my balls were pressed up against her wet pussy gushing juices. My mind kept going back and forth between images of my wife and Jenny. I’d close my eyes and imagine its my sweet princess Jenny and then switch back to my wife just as I was about to cum. I couldn’t take it anymore I pushed my wife off of me, took my tee shirt off while she jumped into bed. That night she kept calling me ‘daddy’ and I fucked her at least for an hour before we fell asleep.
This story is part of a trilogy; you should read “Gary’s Mom” and “Voodoo Moms” first.
All characters are 18 years or older.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Fucking idiots! I screamed.
Nobody turned to look of course because I had vented my frustrations to myself. The only apparent measure of my anger was the loud clicks of my heels on the once-polished floor of the school hallway, now populated by more than a few teenagers blatantly skipping classes, and the firm set of my jaw. I burst through the double doors which sprung back lively to crash together as I stomped down the cement steps to my car.
Where did they get their degrees? I should call them and tell them what an embarrassment their graduates had become.
No evidence of bullying? Then why the fuck did they think my son was afraid to go to school? A good student suddenly refuses to go to school for no reason at all? Give me a break!
I dropped my keys, bent to pick them up, still fuming, fumbled them again, picked them up, couldn’t get the key in the door, felt my arms and jaw to rigid, and yelled out loud, “FUCK!”
Several students and a couple of teachers turned to look. I tried the key again. It worked, so I got in the car, threw my purse on the passenger seat and put the key in the ignition but instead of starting the engine, I grabbed the steering wheel, leaned forward until my head hit the wheel, and cried. The teachers didn’t approach the car to offer help.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
“I’m home,” I called.
Nobody answered but the house wasn’t empty. I knew Gary was upstairs in his room where he would have been all day. He didn’t even come down to eat anymore. At first, John tried to get our son to come down for dinner and wouldn’t let me take his meals upstairs but eventually we gave up.
During the day, I found evidence of Gary’s excursions seeking food when I was away. I guess his hunger could overcome his fear of the great unknown outside his room. Or maybe he wasn’t afraid of being in the rest of the house when it was empty. Maybe he just wanted to avoid contact, to be alone, unless absolutely necessary. God knows, he didn’t want company when he ate his dinner. For a while, I waited in the hallway after hearing Gary in the bathroom but he always seemed to know I was there and wouldn’t come out until he heard me go downstairs.
Eventually, I lost hope and resigned myself to supporting the live-in recluse my son had become. I started going out on the flimsiest of excuses, any reason to get out of my dismal home. Finding evidence of Gary’s scrounging for food while I was gone no longer raised my hopes. To make things worse, John became more distant, often missed dinner, and sometimes didn’t come home until after I had gone to bed. Maybe he was having an affair—Who could blame him? Our home was as exciting as a tomb—but more likely, he just wanted to avoid being home as much as possible, just like me.
I went to the gym, not so much to become fit as to get away. I took photography lessons, cooking lessons, tried golf, shopped until I was bored to tears, joined a book club, and had coffee with friends until the day I noticed their conversation change when they saw me coming. My mind wandered when I was with them anyway. I might be avoiding home but my thoughts were always with my son.
What had happened to him? How could I help him if I didn’t know that? I had tried but couldn’t find the answer and that had paralyzed me. Well, no more! I had to find a way to engage my son. Gary wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life hiding in a room.
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A week later, I was at my wits end and ready to throw myself off a cliff. It didn’t matter what I did, what I said, what I offered to entice him, Gary just wouldn’t come out of his room. What was in there? Did he play games all day, look at porn, was that it? I didn’t know for sure but sensed there wasn’t anything keeping him in his room. He was truly afraid of going leaving.
We tried another round of doctors but they didn’t do any better and after two months of that, we gave up again. School was now out but Gary hadn’t missed finishing Grade 12. The school had come to its senses and let him finish his courses and write his tests online but he refused to go to the graduation ceremony let alone any parties.
Only one thing was going right in my life: I was exercising so much to relieve the stress that I lost a lot of weight. I hadn’t been so light since my early thirties and was in much better shape but it was too good to last. I started getting headaches and pains all over my body. I stopped going to the gym but found another excuse to get out of the house: massages. They felt great and helped with the headaches but couldn’t rid me of the constant aches that prevented me from exercising. However, one massage therapist, my third I think, recommended a solution.
“Jenny, I can’t get a massage every time I want to exercise.”
“Well no, I know that but you can get a body doll.”
“A body doll?”
“Yeah,” Jenny said. “I know it sounds stupid but several of my clients have tried it and they all swear by it.”
“So, how does that work?”
“Well, you do exercises at home but before and after you do them, you massage the doll.” She laughed as she ended, I guess realizing how silly it sounded.
“So how is massaging a doll supposed to make me feel better?”
“I know, sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Well, the doll is supposed to be an image of you, so when you’re massaging it, you’re actually massaging yourself. It’s based on the notion that you know best where you hurt and will subconsciously massage yourself in the right places and in the right way.”
I was skeptical but went along for the ride. “So, where am I supposed to get a doll that’s an image of me?”
Jenny laughed in a way that showed she was embarrassed about what she was going to say next. “Well, there’s this old black woman that sells voodoo stuff. She makes personalized dolls.”
“A voodoo doll? Am I supposed to stick pins in it?” I teased.
“Not unless you’re a masochist,” Jenny laughed. “Seriously, several of my clients have tried it and they say it really works.”
“How much are these dolls?”
“I think they’re about fifty bucks.”
“And are there’s a special exercises plan to go along with the doll?” I asked, smelling a sales pitch.
“No special exercises. Just do your regular routine. I’ll show you some good ones to do at home and instead of stretching before and after, you massage the doll.” Jenny tittered. “Then, if you feel better, you can start going back to the gym.”
“Well, it’s worth a shot,” I sighed. “I’m starting to gain weight again.”
So, on top of everything else, I started exercising at home and massaging a doll that looked like me. My life was a pit.
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I felt silly the first few times I massaged the doll but, strangely, I did feel better. Not only did the pain stop but the stress disappeared as well. I began feeling good about myself. I had lots of energy and I looked good, not only in the mirror but in the faces of men glancing my way a sure-fire measure of attractiveness.
My husband, however, hardly noticed which made me even more convinced that he was having an affair. Surprisingly, I didn’t really care that much. It actually allowed me think clearly about what to do about Gary.
I didn’t have any new ideas about how to solve my son’s problem but I was no longer depressed about it. I was confident that I would come up with something. We had relied on the doctors and they had failed us, twice, so we had given up. I now knew that wasn’t acceptable and, rather than convincing John, I decided to handle it on my own, as soon as I came up with a plan.
The solution came upon me by accident and, at first, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I was about to begin my exercise routine when Gary surprised me. I was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing my fruit bowl with one hand and absent mindedly massaging the doll with the other when Gary shuffled into the kitchen.
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I didn’t know you were home.”
Obviously, because he hadn’t called for me to bring his lunch. It was well after one so he must have been starving.
I surprised myself by not jumping up to get him something to eat, which would have been my normal response. Instead, I said, “I’m about to start my exercises so you’ll have to get yourself something.”
Gary shuffled over to the counter and put some bread in the toaster, then got some peanut butter from the cupboard. He was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas that looked like he’d been wearing them for at least a week. I bit my lip.
I only had one slice of orange and two slices of peach left in the bowl when I realized that Gary was watching me. Of course… it was the doll. He had seen me exercising before but hadn’t seen me massaging a doll, especially one that looked like me. It must have looked weird. I was about to explain, then thought better of it. Maybe a puzzle was just what his crippled mind needed.
I toyed with my food, cutting each slice in three. I studiously avoided looking at Gary so he could observe me without feeling self-conscious about it. He opened the fridge to get some jam, closed it, and walked slowly back to the toaster. I knew he was looking at me rather than where he was going. He was so fascinated by what I was doing, he bumped into the counter. Unconsciously, I rubbed the doll more slowly, just as I had slowed the pace of eating, as if they were part of the same process.
The toast popped up. Gary pushed it back down.
“What dear?” I responded without looking up from what I was doing.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
I rubbed my thumb up the front of the doll, over its breasts, and back down. I couldn’t see him directly but I knew his eyes were glued on what I was doing to the doll.
“Your toast is burning,” I said a minute later.
Gary popped the toast up but rather than spreading his peanut butter and jam while he was at the counter, he put the toast on a plate and carried everything to the table. For months he had minimized contact with us and now here he was joining me at the table. Excitement surged through me.
Gary sat down and busied himself with his toast. I avoided eye contact, concentrating on massaging the doll, and I knew Gary was just as focused on it. I hadn’t seen him pay so much attention to anything for months. I kept massaging the doll after I finished eating, which I had stretched out ridiculously long. Finally, I felt I could hardly justify carrying on so I got up, leaving the doll on the table, and put my bowl in the sink.
I walked behind Gary and stopped by the end of the table, before leaving the kitchen. I stretched, holding my arms above my head, tipped my head back and shook my hair, then arched my back and tensed my legs and buttocks. I told myself I needed to expel the thrill coursing through me, but in reality I was parading my new, buff body shamelessly in front of my son. Clad in a tight-fitting black leotard covered by a blue, swim-style, leopard-decorated suit, I knew I looked good and, subconsciously, I wanted confirmation that it was me and not the doll that my son found so fascinating.
“I feel great,” I sighed.
What the hell was I doing? All I knew for sure was I didn’t want Gary to go back upstairs. In the living room, I started my routine with a series of stretches, pausing in poses that weren’t my regular stretch points. I kept my back to the kitchen but was aware when Gary got up to stand in the doorway to watch me. All I could think of was what to do next to keep him downstairs.
I bent over to touch my toes and managed to touch the floor many more times than I had before. I rose up with my legs still spread, tensing my thigh muscles and glutes, shook my hair and stretched sideways, sliding my hand down the outside of my leg, first the left, then the right, again and again. My ears were peaked, straining for signs that my son was still there, watching me.
When I turned around, he seemed startled but before he could escape, I said, “You can watch TV if you want. I won’t be in the way.”
Gary flushed red and ran up the stairs.
I wasn’t disappointed. I was ecstatic!
This was the ticket. Nothing we had done, or the doctors had done, had drawn Gary out of his shell but we had all overlooked the obvious. Gary was a typical teenager, probably a virgin, and likely thought of little else than the pussy he craved but hadn’t yet enjoyed. Even as a recluse, he was probably still interested in girls and I was the only one in the near vicinity. If I could activate his fantasies, despite being his mother, I could gradually use his teenage libido to lure him out into the real world where his lust could be transferred to a more appropriate target.
This was it. This was the plan that would save my son.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day, I made my lunch and waited for Gary to call out, determined to ignore him until he ventured downstairs to make himself something to eat. Long after lunch would have been ready, his bedroom door opened and I heard him shuffling down the stairs. I picked up the doll in my left hand, looked at the magazine I had spread on the table beside my bowl of fruit, and stabbed a slice of peach. I knew I looked good. I had warmed myself up with a short routine to bring color to my face and checked myself in the mirror to make sure the leotard made my legs look good, that the exercise suit didn’t overly restrict my breasts, and that it molded nicely over my butt.
Gary poked his head around the corner. I rubbed my thumb up the front of the doll.
“Did I miss lunch?” he asked.
“You did,” I said.
Gary didn’t seem perturbed. Without complaint, he shuffled to the counter and put bread in the toaster, then turned and looked at me. I ignored him, delicately sliding a slice of peach between my lips and massaging the doll without a break. Gary watched in silence.
The scene was surreal. We were together yet apart. I dangled my crossed legs under the table, knowing my foot extended out the side toward Gary, drawing his attention to my carefully painted toes which had consumed almost an hour of my morning. Whiffs of perfume occasionally overpowered the fruity odor emanating from my bowl.
Gary’s toast popped up and he pushed it down again. I picked up the peeled banana that I had laid on a side plate and slowly slid the tip into my mouth and just as cautiously bit off the end. I chewed slowly, constantly rubbing the doll with my thumb. I was halfway through the banana when the toast popped up again. Only then did Gary get the margarine and jam from the fridge.
At the table, he buttered his toast as I used one finger to poke the rest of the banana deep into my mouth. My thumb slipped down over the doll’s torso and rubbed its thighs, brushing up and onto the suit it wore that matched my own, the proud result of an hour’s sewing the night before. I turned the page of the magazine, my thumb resting on the doll’s pelvis, not quite still. Gary spread jam on his toast, slowly, as if he needed to stay in time with me.
I finished my fruit at the same time that the first slice of toast had disappeared. While Gary began spreading margarine on the next slice, I got up, put my bowl and plate in the sink, then sauntered out of the kitchen. I stopped before the doorway and stretched as I had done the day before but for longer and in an even more exaggerated pose. The only sound I made was a long, satisfied sigh.
I went into the living room. My fingers had barely touched the floor when Gary’s body blocked the light from the kitchen. I looked between my legs to verify his presence in the doorway. He was leaning against the jamb with a slice of toast in one hand. He didn’t say a word.
I pulled myself up and touched the fingers of my right hand to the floor in front of my left foot, holding it in an extended stretch. Rising slowly, I arched my back before doing the same with my left hand and right foot, conscious of my right cheek thrusting toward the left under the leotard. Rising again, I touched the floor between my open legs, stretching down until my palms grazed the carpet, knowing that the swollen area between my legs was wantonly pouting, begging to escape the confines of the leotard. Joan, you hussy, I reprimanded myself. But it’s for a good cause,” I replied.
I repeated that routine many times. After a while, not hearing a sound from Gary except an occasional munch on toast, I rose up and started sliding my palm seductively down the outside of my left leg, then the right. I carried that on for another several minutes. I pretended I didn’t know Gary was there.
I straightened and paused, trying to think of what I could say when I turned around and pretended to see him. What could I say that would stop him from running upstairs? I can’t describe the thrill that flooded my chest when he walked past me and sat down on far end of the couch, then picked up the remote. He forgot for a moment to turn the TV on. I felt like running outside and screaming in delight. It’s going to work!
I was facing Gary now but turned around to face the TV so he could continue to watch me unobserved. Several times, I stretched a leg up, like I used to do in ballet class, grabbed an ankle and held my foot by my head. I felt terribly guilty holding this pose that couldn’t help but fill the male mind with awe at how wide a woman can open her legs. I hadn’t done it since my first boyfriend came to pick me up after class and watched me through the waiting area window, a trick I had learned from Hayley, who used to tease the other girls’ fathers waiting for their daughters, an act that made her quite unpopular with the girls if not the men. I knew exactly what I was doing.
My back wasn’t directly facing Gary. By looking at the TV, I was facing about thirty degrees off directly away from him, far enough that I couldn’t see him so he could safely watch, but enough to show the profile of my left breast from behind. I stretched my other leg up and hugged it to myself, then bent over to touch the floor again, bouncing my palms onto the rug, thrilled with my brilliance. On the first touch, I peeked through my legs and saw Gary gawking at my ass.
This was definitely going to work!
I was careful not to peek again. Gary had to be able to safely watch, comfortable in the knowledge that I was facing away. I concentrated on doing my regular routine so I didn’t blow it by being awkward or self-conscious. On the floor, I twisted so I could watch the TV to increase Gary’s confidence that I wouldn’t suddenly look his way. When I pulled my knees up to my chin, I held them there much longer than usual, keeping the leotard stretched tightly over my bum. I turned onto my left side to scissor my legs and when I did the right, I switched head and feet so I could keep facing the TV. I scissored my legs until I couldn’t lift them anymore.
Despite the show, I was surprised Gary didn’t bolt for his room until I remembered the pajamas he was wearing. He probably had an erection and was afraid to run past me in case I saw it. I smiled, amused and pleased by the thought of my son sitting on the couch behind me with a bit hardon. It’s for a good cause, I reminded myself.
I gave Gary lots of warning before I got up and joined him on the couch by walking into the kitchen first to retrieve the doll. His hands were resting on a pillow strategically placed on his lap when I returned. I almost burst out laughing but managed to turn it into a coughing fit.
I massaged the doll for ten minutes. Finally, it struck me that Gary couldn’t leave until I did because whatever he was hiding under the pillow was unlikely to subside while I was sitting beside him playing with the doll. I mumbled something about getting a shower and left. As I pulled the leotard down my leg, I heard Gary rushing up the stairs. Too late, I saw that I had left the door wide open. Gary hurried by, still clutching the pillow in front of himself, as I sat frozen in an artistic slice of ordinary domestic life, a woman undressing, nude except for a leotard dangling from her toe.
Gary’s door banged shut and, this time, I did burst out laughing though I leaned over and muffled the sound in the covers. A moment later, I recklessly crept down the hallway to my son’s room and listened at his door, a triumphant smile breaking out when I heard the distinctive sound of male masturbation. Unashamed, I swung my arm up, bent my elbow and closed my fist.
I wasn’t ashamed. I had found the key to my son’s salvation.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Gary was upstairs when John came home from work and remained there through dinner which proceeded as usual, quiet except for the sound of chewing, knives and forks scraping on plates, and the occasional clink of a wine glass returning to the table. Quiet, that is, until I explained my idea to John.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Gary’s sick. There’s something wrong with him, and flirting with him isn’t going to fix it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with our son. He’s just been bullied. All he needs is a reason to go back outside and the confidence to do it,” I retorted.
“And you cavorting in front of him is going to do that?”
“No,” I drawled. “My ‘cavorting’, as you call it, will make him think of girls and that will make him want to rejoin the land of the living.”
“It’s a little unconventional, Joan.”
“Not really. Boys always have a thing for their mothers, don’t they?”
“Sometimes. If they’re not ugly, I guess,” John laughed.
“Your mother was attractive when she was younger. Did you have the hots for her?”
“I’m surprised you have anything nice to say about my mother,” John neatly side-stepped the question.
“I said when she was younger and quit avoiding the question. Did you think about her when you were a teenager?”
“I suppose?” I laughed.
“Yes, I guess I did, but I was much younger than Gary. I think it’s a little late for a maternal fixation.”
“Uh huh. So what first attracted you to your Mom?” I persisted.
John leaned back, crossed his legs, uncrossed them, then crossed them again.
“I don’t remember.”
He didn’t want to talk to me about it but, knowing me, knew it was unavoidable. I suspected he was trying to buy time to think of how little he could get away with telling me.
“Yes you do.”
John took a deep breath. Resigned, he said, “I guess it was… one day I was watching her hang clothes on the line, something I’d seen her do a million times before, but this time, as she was stretching up, she lost her footing and almost fell. Well, as she reached out to grab the post to keep from falling her hand knocked a button off her blouse. When she hung up the next shirt, I could see her brassiere and quite a bit of her breasts feeding into it. I watched her hang the rest of the clothes and later, when we were having lunch, she hadn’t fixed the blouse. I watched her all day.”
“Naughty Johnny. Think how we could have spiced up a few nights if you’d told me this years ago,” I teased. John ignored me.
“The thing was, Mom didn’t fix her blouse all day but just before Dad came home, she changed it. That night, I woke up and heard my parents having sex. Mom was particularly loud. I had heard my parents having sex before but it was just the sound of the bed springs and my father huffing and puffing. From then on, though, I heard Mom almost every time. I stayed awake on Saturday nights because I knew they were going to fuck. On Saturdays, if Mom forgot to do up one or two of her buttons, I couldn’t wait until bedtime because I knew she’d be enthusiastic. She always was on those days.”
“Jesus, John. No wonder your mother never liked me.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Did you ever…”
“No,” John interrupted. “That’s all Mom ever did.”
“For how long?”
“Years, I guess. After Dad died, she always had her blouse partly undone when I visited alone.”
“Even after we were married?”
“Yes,” John replied. He spoke so softly I could hardly hear him.
“John. I’m just trying to get Gary interested in girls so he’ll quit hiding in his room.”
“I know, Joan. It might work, but be careful.”
“Yeah. Don’t get to liking it like my mother did.”
“John, don’t be ridiculous. It’s not something I’ll enjoy, it’s something I’ll do for our son.”
“I know.” John’s voice was still low. His mind was somewhere else.
“You might have to be scarce for a while. Not that you haven’t been already.”
“It’ll take time for this to work and Gary needs to know that we’re alone and not in danger of being surprised.”
“I thought you were going to say we need to start fucking really loud.”
“We haven’t been fucking so I don’t know where that comes from.”
It was my turn to interrupt.
“Actually, I don’t think we should have sex for a while. I think it might help if Gary thought I wasn’t getting any.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because we haven’t been doing it. You haven’t exactly been here.”
“I don’t want to hear it and I don’t care anyway. I don’t know whether you’re getting it somewhere else or if you’ve just lost interest, like me.”
I reached out to grasp John’s hand.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I know I haven’t been here for you. Look, we’re both stressed out but if we can fix this thing with Gary, I think we can fix ourselves as a side benefit. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
“Okay. I’ll stay out of the way, for our marriage.”
“And for our son.”
“Of course, but just a little flashing, okay?”
“Of course. What do you think we’ve been talking about?”
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
For the rest of the week, Gary and I settled into an after lunch routine. I waited for him to come down for lunch, finished mine while he made his, and we both repaired to the living room. I exercised while Gary ate his lunch and watched TV, and me. After every session, Gary waited, his eyes fixed on the TV and the pillow held firmly on his lap, while I massaged the doll. He always waited until I went upstairs. Within a minute, he would rush by the open door of my room and I would sneak down to his closed door to confirm what I already knew.
John kept his word and came home later and later, missing dinner three times that week. Near the end of the week, Gary appeared downstairs in the late afternoon. I happened to be making a Moroccan dish. Gary didn’t explain his appearance. He simply sat down at the kitchen table and watched me move about the kitchen . I was wearing a wrap around a body leotard, almost my uniform these days.
I talked constantly, partly because I was nervous and partly to make Gary comfortable. It was meaningless chit chat, nothing requiring a response and so relieving him of any pressure to do so. I was simply trying to make the situation seem normal while my body movements made it anything but.
When I was finished, I sauntered over to my son and got him to taste my creation, leaning over and delicately inserting several olives into his mouth, one at a time. It was an innocent act, though seductively executed. The leotard and wrap covered me completely but Gary looked at my breasts anyway. I asked him if he would help me make some new dishes the next afternoon and he agreed.
The next day, Gary didn’t rush by my room so fast. I was sitting on the other side of the bed with my back to him. I heard him pause and knew he was right outside my door. I stretched my leg out high and straight, leaned forward and pushed the leotard off my foot, then did the same for the other. Somehow, I managed to twist sideways a little so my breast swung out far enough for him to see its swollen fullness. I stood then, slowly so as not to startle him, and walked, stark naked, into the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to turn on the light, then turning and disappearing from his sight, allowing a brief glimpse of my breasts in full, thrusting side profile.
I could hear him before I even got to his door, breathing harshly, erratically, the sound of his fist furiously beating his cock. When I turned away, I was surprised to find my hand covering my own sex.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day, I happened to be looking at the TV when the screen went blank and I saw Gary’s reflection. He was holding the pillow with his left hand and slowly stroking his cock with the right. I stifled a gasp and almost stopped moving but caught myself and acted like the exercise had just become particularly strenuous. I was shocked. I had initially assumed Gary was just getting hard while watching me and even entertained the notion that he might be touching himself under the pillow too but to actually see him stroking his bare cock, even in the dim reflection of the blank TV screen, was a tad unsettling.
I guess I shouldn’t have been that surprised. After all, it had been a week. I imagine when Gary first started touching himself, his cock grew big enough to poke through the hole in the front of his pajamas. Over the week, it was a natural progression to touch it, even take it out and stroke it, secure in the knowledge that I never, ever turned around to look at him. Perhaps I had done my job too well.
That same day, while Gary helped me make some gourmet snacks and actually chatted with me, I asked him if he would keep me company outside in the sun. He was hesitant at first but succumbed to my will after twenty minutes of wily, womanly cajoling. Gary did sit on the patio lounges with me but steadfastly refused to venture farther from the safety of the house. Nevertheless, it was an amazing accomplishment in our small world.
Later that afternoon, while in the mall on some errands, I ran into Sandra and then Vanessa, both mothers of boys Gary had played with when he was younger. We became good acquaintances if not friends attending games and stuff with the kids. I always like Sandra and admired her greatly and her kid was nice whereas Vanessa’s was a bit of a brat. Without thinking about it, I told Sandra about the doll and how I had accidentally stumbled upon a plan to lure Gary from his room. She seemed a little shocked but relaxed when I explained that I simply wanted to revive his teenage instincts sufficiently for him to want to rejoin the planet. Sandra laughed and remarked that she doubted she would be able to entice her own son in such a way so thankfully there was nothing wrong with him.
“Oh gosh, Joan. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… oh, I feel just terrible.”
“Don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything. It has been hard, Sandra, and I’m ready to try anything. I have no idea if this will work. So far, I’ve only managed to get him to come downstairs for lunch and sit in the patio. In fact, I don’t think he’s really interested in my old body, he’s probably just hungry.”
We both laughed, and a few minutes later, Sandra left. I wasn’t worried that she’d say anything. Sandra was a private person and I was confident she wouldn’t tell anyone about our conversation.
Before I left, Vanessa passed by and sat down. I knew Vanessa was having tremendous difficulty with her own son and knowing that she knew about the problems we were having with Gary, I confided my success, perhaps primed by the sympathetic reaction from Sandra.
I was tentative at first but Vanessa’s obvious interest loosened my tongue. I didn’t spill everything but let enough out that she knew I was trying to use womanly charms to encourage Gary to get out of the house. Vanessa was captivated by the approach and I see in her eyes she was already planning how she could do the same thing to curb Billy’s juvenile behavior.
“I think Billy’s getting into drugs,” she confided.
“No. Gary isn’t?”
“No, definitely not. At least, I don’t think so.”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure about Billy either but he’s getting out of control and something is driving it. I’ve got to do something about it. You say this teasing thing really works?”
“Well, I’m not sure yet but I’ve managed to get him out of his room.”
“And you used a doll?”
“Yes, from this Voodoo woman.”
“Voodoo woman? Oh, you mean that black woman with the strange store across from the mall?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
I wished I hadn’t said so much to Vanessa and wanted to limit the damage so I didn’t explain the connection with massage therapy. The last thing I wanted was Vanessa dropping in to interrogate Jenny and gossiping about my success with Gary. Thank God, that was enough for Vanessa and she left soon after. As I watched her confident, former-model body steer between the food court tables, I pitied her brat son. She reminded me of my mother-in-law, God rest her soul. Billy didn’t know what he was in for.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day, I managed to capture several glimpses of my son in the blank TV screen and confirmed what I thought I’d seen the previous day. Gary was definitely stroking himself while he watched me. And why wouldn’t he? I never, ever turned around to look at him while exercising so he should feel safe to touch himself until I finished my routine, which by now he probably knew by heart.
Far from feeling I had gone too far, I was tremendously pleased. His obvious desire raised my confidence in the plan. The motivation was there, all I had to do was continue leading him down the path to its eventual, inevitable conclusion.
I found a way to reward Gary for his trip out to the patio. I stopped mid-routine and, inanely complaining about being hot, removed the bathing suit, and left myself clad only in the body leotard. I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. It was like I was naked, except for a second skin. I carried on with the rest of my routine and even extended it with exercises I made up on the spur of the moment, anything that allowed me to stretch and arch my body.
It was an outrageous exhibition, one which made me feel deliciously naughty. I squirmed and preened on the floor in front of my son without shame, knowing there wasn’t an inch of me he couldn’t imagine naked under the tight black leotard that covered me so revealingly. I denied the thrill I felt as anything but exaltation in the knowledge that when I asked, Gary would willingly follow me anywhere in the yard I asked him to go. Next week, I would talk him into accompanying me to the store, just the corner store, and I wouldn’t even ask him to get out of the car, but it would be a huge step and I was positive now that he would do it. My plan was working!
Finally, I stopped, exhausted. While I lay there, breathing heavily, knowing Gary was watching my gently heaving bosom, a thought entered my mind and I acted upon it before considering the consequences.
He gasped. I had never spoken to him before while exercising. There was a rustle as he frantically covered himself, probably learning too late how difficult it was to conceal a hard, springy cock.
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“Be a darling and get my doll from the kitchen for me.”
He was stalling, likely afraid to get up until the big lump in his lap subsided.
“Yes, my massage doll. I left it on the kitchen table.”
“Come on. I’m so exhausted I can’t keep my eyes open.”
I closed my eyes and opened them a slit just in time to see Gary go past. In the kitchen, he turned toward the table to retrieve the doll, exposing the reason for his hesitation. The front of his pajamas looked like a tent. I was impressed by its size. I shut my eyes as he returned.
“I put it on the couch,” he said.
“Can you do me another favor?”
“Can you massage the doll for me?”
“Awww, Mom. I’ll feel silly and, anyway, I don’t know how to do it.”
“It’s easy, you just rub it gently, all over, and it isn’t silly. It really helps me.”
There was a rustle as Gary picked up the doll.
“You just rub it?”
“Mhhhmmm,” I murmured, wiggling to ready my body for its ‘massage’. “Start with the feet and work your way up,” I suggested.
I waited half a minute then sighed, “That feels good.”
After that, I was silent except the occasional murmur or pleased sigh. Periodically, I wiggled. I suspected that after a few minutes, Gary rubbed near my breasts so I arched my back slightly and purred. I opened my eyes a slit but couldn’t see what he was doing except to note that he was enthralled. I think I could have sat up and looked right at him without being noticed.
“Oh, that feels good,” I murmured.
Despite his initial objection, Gary seemed to enjoy massaging the doll. I was sure he wouldn’t mind doing it more often, maybe even both before and after my routine. I rolled over onto my tummy, twisting so my bum was pointed toward my son, and parted my legs a little.
After thirty seconds or so, I sighed and arched my ass up a bit, tensed my legs and glutes, relaxed, and settled back into the carpet. I repeated this every minute or so and squirmed my ass around. I couldn’t have been more obvious unless I got up on my hands and knees and turned around to pout at him.
I gave Gary lots of warning when I was ready to quit, giving him time to put the pillow in place. I leaned over to kiss him on the forehead in thanks, adding a longer one on his cheek, my lips just catching the corner of his mouth.
“Thanks, son,” I husked.
I sauntered slowly up the stairs, exaggerating the sway of my hips and pushing my bottom out with each step. Once in my room, I quickly removed the leotard instead of just pushing it down so Gary could covertly watch me slip it off my feet before I stepped into the bathroom for my shower. I lay back on the bed, covered my eyes with a crooked arm, arched my back to push up my naked breasts, and waited for the sound of his footsteps. When they arrived, I held my pose for a couple of minutes, sure he was watching, then lazily turned away from him onto my side. There, I let my upper knee slide off the other onto the bed and pulled it up a bit, positioning my exposed ass in its most inviting pose.
I don’t know how long Gary watched me so I waited for a long time. At some point, I dozed off.
For the rest of the week, Gary massaged the doll for me while I squirmed around appreciatively on the floor in front of him. I had replaced the mat with a comforter to provide a wider range for movement on the floor. My stretches were always more languid during the ‘post’ massage than in the warm up and by the time we were done, I was very warm indeed. I may have been doing this to save my son, but it wasn’t a hardship. Being the focus of such intense appreciation was like doing a feel-good drug, mellow yet stimulating.
I toyed with the idea of getting Gary to actually touch me. I could just turn around, maybe while lying on my back, and stretch my feet up for him to massage directly rather than via the medium of the doll. I thought hard about the potential benefits of direct touch but eventually vetoed the idea as too dangerous, thinking about the effect on my son. Had I though about the effect on myself, I would have realized how dangerous it really was.
In the afternoons, Gary followed me around the yard, helping with the gardening and just generally keeping me company. I always wore a loose blouse and usually baggy or tight shorts but sometimes put on a short skirt. There was plenty of opportunity for Gary to look down my blouse or peek between my legs as he stood above me while I squatted or kneeled to work on the garden. Initially, I had worn my flimsiest bras, the ones designed to be worn with an evening dress or a low-cut blouse, but on Thursday I went braless because I was working up to getting Gary out of the house altogether, just a short trip to the store.
On Friday, Gary arrived downstairs to find me eating my lunch dressed only in a body stocking. It was much like the leotard but it was flesh-colored rather than black, and thus easier to see through. The legs were shorter, extending barely halfway down my thighs instead of to my ankles, and both the back and the front dipped low, the back rounded while the front dove into a deep V.
I had found the body stocking while searching the bottom of a drawer because, what with one thing and another, I was behind with the laundry and had run out of leotards. I held it up to the light but rejected it as too revealing. On second thought, I held it up again and whispered, “Wow.” A delightfully wicked feeling shimmered through me so strongly I ignored my nattering conscience which quickly faded as I sat down on the bed and pulled the stocking on.
When he first saw me, Gary stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open. I didn’t tease him, I just quietly handed him the doll.
“We’re late. Why don’t you warm me up… uh, massage the doll, while I make your lunch.”
Gary sat down, his eyes soaking in the body stocking, or more accurately, the parts it didn’t cover so well. I glanced at him and he started massaging the doll.
“I want you to have some fruit,” I said. “You’re going to get scurvy the way you eat.”
Gary nodded in the compliant manner he had adopted of late. I put his typical two pieces of toast in and then brought him a banana. Since he was holding the doll in two hands, I peeled it for him, slowing pulling down each strip, and nibbled a small bit off the top before handing it to him.
Before Gary could release a hand from the doll to take it, I said, “Oh, right, you’ve got the doll. Here, I’ll feed you while you work on the doll.”
I put the banana to Gary’s lips, “Go ahead.”
His thumbs rubbed up and down the front of the doll as I pushed the banana into his mouth, leaning over in an exaggerated fashion to give him an eyeful.
“They’re good, aren’t they?”
I put the banana into my own mouth, lifting Gary’s eyes from my breasts. They widened when I pushed the banana deep into my mouth and then slid it all the way out.
“Sorry, I forgot it was your banana.”
I snagged another small bite and then pushed it into Gary’s mouth. He took a large bite. The toast popped, so I finished the banana and swayed over to butter Gary’s toast, making sure my butt wiggled with each swipe of the knife. Gary devoured the toast and we moved into the living room. I lay down on the comforter and immediately began squirming around, trying to avoid eye contact with Gary’s bulging erection.
“Gary, I want you to keep me company while I go to the store.”
“To the store?”
“Yes. There were some rough-looking fellows hanging around the last couple of times and they make me nervous. You’ll come, won’t you?” I asked, closing my eyes as I arched my back sharply to thrust my breasts upward, forcing my nipples into the body stocking.
“I don’t know, Mom. It’s been a long time since…”
“Please, son. I’m a little frightened.”
I rolled onto my left shoulder, then my right, twisting toward him and stretching to emphasize my breasts.
“I’ll try,” he mumbled.
“Thanks. I knew I could rely on you.”
I treated Gary to a command performance. I had become jaded over the past few weeks and where I was formerly hesitant to adopt more lurid poses, I now had so such inhibitions. I no longer worried that my posture was ridiculously provocative, I was only concerned about whether it was sufficiently sexy to make Gary want me as a woman so I could lure him out of the house. I thrived on my success, knowing Gary jacked off quietly while he watched me on the floor and that he couldn’t wait until he reached his room to finish himself off. However, toward the end of my extended routine, Gary voiced doubt about his ability to leave the house.
“Mom, I’ll really try to go with you but I might not be able to make it,” he whined.
I stopped and sat up, my back to him, and legs tucked to one side.
“I really want you to come, Gary.”
“I know. I’ll try, Mom, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.”
It was only then that I noticed that we had forgotten to turn on the TV. The screen was blank and I could see Gary’s reflection, sitting behind and slightly to my left, pillow in one hand and his cock in the other.
“I want you to really try, son.”
I lifted my right hand up to my left shoulder as I spoke. Gary watched intently, and didn’t answer. I looked sideways and slipped my finger nails under the body stocking on top of my shoulder and urged it over the edge, then turned the other way and did the same on the other side. Gary sucked in his breath and stopped breathing.
“I really want you to come,” I repeated.
I pulled the body stocking down to my elbow on my left side, then did the same with my right.
“You will come, won’t you?”
Gary was silent except for his raspy breath.
I pulled my left arm out of the stocking’s sleeve, then turned and did the same with my right.
“Will you come?”
Gary remained mute. I pulled the body stocking down my waist until it rested on my hip, turned to look down at my right side and slowly did the same there.
“Yes,” Gary whispered his answer.
“Yes,” he hissed.
I turned halfway then, but not far enough to see him.
“Thank you, son.”
My tits slung out from my chest, nipples stiff with excitement, and I leaned slightly to one side to emphasize the curve of my spine and the slender length of my neck. I completed the rest of my floor routine half-naked. Gary couldn’t contain himself sufficiently to remain completely silent. The sound of his hand moving up and down on his cock disturbed the air but was ignored by us both, despite its electrifying effect on the air between us.
I didn’t warn Gary when I stood up. I simply turned and caught him, hand in lazy mid-stroke, suddenly shocked into immobility. Ignoring his plight, I stooped to kiss him, the upper part of the body stocking hanging down from my hips. I kissed his forehead and then placed my lips on his, leisurely kissing him as if I was pecking him on his cheek, only longer. Nonetheless, the casual brush of my lips on his made his manhood lurch, and when I say manhood, I mean manhood because it was long enough to nuzzle between my dangling breasts.
“I’ll be ready in half an hour,” I whispered.
I didn’t remember to put on my sexy walk as I climbed the stairs because my body was still tingling from my brazen act and the turmoil it had caused in my mind. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. I hadn’t heeded John’s warning and now I had gone much further than I ever intended but that wasn’t what bothered me the most. I would do what it took to bring back my son and I sensed it would take more than watching me prance around in a leotard to get him back into the world. So what bothered me so much? That was easy: I hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.
How did John know to warn me? That question added to the caldron in my mind and made me wonder how well I knew my husband. What had really happened between him and his mother?
Gary rushed by a few minutes later, trying to get to his room before he lost his load. I followed him down the hallway a couple of minutes later. Though his door wasn’t completely shut, I couldn’t see inside, but I heard him feverishly beating his meat and hoarsely muttering my name.
Whack, whack, whack.
Realizing I was naked outside his door, I became self-conscious and turned away. I had to pull my hand from between my legs.
I’m in control, I assured myself. I’m in control, I repeated.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
“Where are you going?” Gary asked nervously as I drove past the corner store.
“Just to the mall. It’s only a little further.”
“Mom, you said the store,” Gary complained.
“No, I said I was worried about some tough guys hanging around the mall.”
“Mom, you said the store.”
“Did I? Well, you know I meant the mall. Why would tough guys be hanging around the corner store?”
“Mom, it’s too far.”
I put my hand on Gary’s thigh, patted it to reassure him, then slid up a couple of inches, squeezed, and left my hand in place.
“It will be fine. You can stay in the car but watch me until I get inside in case there’s any of those guys around.”
We were already approaching the mall parking lot. I turned in and Gary pushed back into the seat, resigned and slouching, an action that pushed his hips forward, forcing his bulging jeans, warm and throbbing, onto the edge of my hand. I steered to an area of empty parking spaces far from the doors, knowing Gary would be alone and wanting to limit any possible interaction that would make him bolt. Reluctant to remove my hand from between his legs, I put the car in Park with my left and reached awkwardly through the steering wheel to turn off the ignition. I didn’t want to leave the keys in the car.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy, son,” I said, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. We were alone. I leaned over and kissed Gary on the cheek which put pressure on my hand, the one pressing on his crotch. As I brushed my lips over his skin, I wiggled my little finger.
“Wait for me,” I whispered.
I rushed off and didn’t look back, afraid I might see Gary already getting out of the car.
In the mall, I rushed toward the pharmacy. I needed to buy something to make it look like there was a reason for going. I felt the urge to hurry, worried now that I hadn’t gone far enough to offset Gary’s fears. The lingerie store caught my eye. Why not? I hurried inside and made a bee-line directly to the young girl at the counter.
“Where are your negligee’s?” I demanded abruptly.
The girl was startled but to her credit responded quickly, “Right over here,” immediately leading the way.
Obviously competent, the young woman pointed me right at my size for their more expensive line. I grabbed a black, lacy set.
“I’ll take this one.”
Even given my whirlwind entry, the girl was taken aback by the speed of my decision but she handled it well. Sensing my urgency, she took the negligee to the counter. She didn’t bother asking me if that was all I wanted.
“Will that be cash or credit card?”
She was already ringing it up and by the time the register spit out the receipt she had wrapped the negligee and put it in a stylish bag. She took my money, quickly returned the correct change, and thanked me for coming in. It was at that point that I noticed she was very pretty and quite healthy looking.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m in a real hurry.”
She smiled pleasantly. “We’re here to help any way we can.”
“You’ve been awesome. Thanks.”
On the way out of the mall, I ran into Sandra and her son. They were talking as they walked, both obviously interested in their conversation and each other, and looked almost like a couple rather than a mother and son. I felt a twinge of envy.
I want that with Gary.
I couldn’t avoid them so I walked on, hoping they were too distracted to see me but Sandra did and smiled, clearly pleased by the encounter.
“Hello Joan. It’s so nice to see you.”
“Oh, hello Sandra, and Jeff,” I nodded to her son.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Gary’s problem with Billy.”
Jeff looked uncomfortable and Sandra’s face immediately took on the expression of one who realizes she’s said something she shouldn’t have.
“Anyway, I can see you’re in a hurry. Call me if you feel like talking.”
I nodded, not sure whether I was confirming that I was in a rush or that I would call. I walked away, speeding up as I neared the door. What was that all about? I pushed the incident out of my mind, worried that Gary might have fled. Had I pushed him too far? I burst through the doors and immediately locked my eyes on the car. Thank goodness! He was still there.
Relieved, Sandra’s mention of Billy returned. Vanessa’s son? Did he have something to do with Gary’s problem? Anger flooded through me. That little bastard. I would give him a piece of my mind. More than that, I’d…
I looked up. Gary had stepped out of the car.
“Are you alright? Did something happen?”
I smiled to relieve his concern. “No, I’m fine.”
“You looked upset.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I guess I was a bit more nervous than I thought.”
I opened the car and got in. Gary did too and closed the door.
“Maybe it’s genetic,” he mused.
“Yeah. Maybe I got this thing from you?”
I frowned, not comprehending. Gary waved at the parking lot. Ahhh, I must have looked panicked the way I had raced to the car.
“Maybe,” I said. “But we can handle it, can’t we, especially if we work through it together?”
“Let’s go home.”
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
John was home when we arrived. When I opened the door he was waiting, worried as hell, but when he saw Gary with me his face relaxed. He was absolutely tickled that Gary had gone out with me. After Gary went upstairs, he hugged me and gushed, “I can’t believe it, Joan. Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”
I laughed nervously, needing relief too. It had been a stressful day. “Ye of little faith.”
“Not anymore.” John hugged me again, squeezing hard.
“Hey, be careful with the goods,” I complained.
John released me. “I wouldn’t want to do that, not when they’re working so well.”
“John!” I gasped, flashing a look upstairs.
John looked properly chastised, and lowered his voice. “It’s amazing what a woman can do with a little attention and a few poses,” he laughed.
“We have our ways.” Thank God he thought that’s all it had taken.
“You’ve brought back our son, Joan, and I love you for it.”
“Is that all you love me for?”
“No, of course not.”
The thought made me think of how inattentive my husband had been for so long and, for some reason, it made me think of what Sandra had said.
“I saw Sandra today and she said something that implied Vanessa Hammond’s son might have had something to do with Gary’s problem.”
John looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“John, did you know about this?”
“No. Well, I heard something to that affect and thought I should have a talk with his father.”
“His father? He doesn’t wear the pants in that family. I’ll have a talk with Vanessa.”
“Joan, maybe you should just let it lie. You’re having amazing success with Gary. Let’s not do anything that will change that. We can deal with the Hammonds later.”
That made sense and some of my anger melted away but I wasn’t entirely convinced.
Gary joined us for dinner that night and John was completely blown away by his easy interaction with us. Afterwards, in bed, I had to press upon him the need for him to stay in the background so Gary didn’t feel pressured.
“I still need lots of space to work with him. He’s a work in progress.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll stay out of the way.”
“I’m still pissed at Vanessa.”
“It’s not her fault, Joan. It’s her bratty little kid.”
“I know, but it makes me so mad.”
“If it will make you feel better, I’ll talk to her.”
“I just don’t want her kid interfering now that I’ve got Gary on the right track.”
“I’ll talk to her,” John consoled me.
That night I didn’t sleep well. I dreamed about John and his mother engaging in forbidden acts, things way beyond what I’d done with Gary. Did I need to justify myself by imaging that John had committed worse with his mother? I was particularly unsettled when John’s face was replaced with Gary’s and then his mother’s with mine but the worst part of the dream was when Gary became John again and his mother ‘s face was replaced with Vanessa’s.
I looked a lot like John’s mother. Some people used to joke that he had married his mother which really pissed me off because I wasn’t like her at all but, now that I thought about it, Vanessa was, a lot. They had the same domineering personality whereas I was normally quite shy and even submissive. Perhaps that’s why Sandra and I got along so well. Anyway, when I awoke I was uncomfortable about sending John to talk to Vanessa but reminded myself of the importance of focusing on my own mission—saving my son—especially now that success was so near.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day I didn’t wait for Gary to start massaging the doll. I sat on the comforter in front of him and immediately peeled the body stocking from my shoulders, then launched into a long series of stretches designed to display my body rather than relax my muscles. I was grateful for all the exercising I had done and realized, ironically, that if it hadn’t been for Gary’s problem I wouldn’t be in such good shape and ready to offer the solution which seemed poised to deliver him from a lonely fate.
Every nerve tingled as I undulated before my son, flexing my unblemished skin and supple muscles. Was this tasty feeling the one John had warned me about? Had his mother confided to him her inner feelings or had he observed it and capitalized on its intoxicating effect?
I didn’t know. All I knew was I felt wonderful knowing how much my son desired me and that, by simply displaying my wares, I could make him feel so good. I could hear him now, playing with himself and openly enjoying my body, unafraid.
I swung down onto my back and started working my legs. Curling up my behind, I took us to another level, grasping the waistband of the body stocking and tugging it over my buttocks, stopping as a tease, then continuing slowly, sliding the meshed material along my thighs to my knees. I slipped the stocking over my knees and pushed it up to my feet where I hooked it on my toes and let it dangle above my face.
My bottom, now completely exposed, was thankfully pointed away from Gary. Why thankfully? Such lewd exposure seemed gross to me, as it would any woman, but I knew men loved it, except John, at least, as far as I knew. I had never done anything like this in front of my husband but in stripper bars they always pointed their ass at the customers, spreading their legs for the disgusting beaver shot. Ugghhhh.
However, I wasn’t quite ready to see if it would appeal to my son. But why not? He was a typical teenager and that’s why my solution was working. Should I not to the distance and let him see?
Well, if you didn’t want him to see, why did you uncover yourself?
Why indeed? I lifted my legs and let the stocking drop onto my face. I couldn’t bring myself to engage in such lewd behaviour without some protection, even if only this fragile anonymity. I swiveled on the floor, turning just enough for my son to get a glimpse of what I had exposed.
He gasped. I swiveled more toward him. Whack, whack, whack. I couldn’t see it but I could hear his hand moving faster and faster. I turned my ass right at him, keeping my legs high and bending my knees until they were above my face. I’m a wanton little hussy!
Gary was breathing harshly, gasping for air. I could tell he was about to come. I threw my legs out and snapped up onto my knees, ripping the stocking from my face and tossing it aside. Gary’s face was almost purple, so much blood and oxygen had rushed to his penis. His eyes were wide. I grabbed his cock, displacing his hand. My other hand circled his nuts and squeezed hard. Gary’s eyes almost bugged out of his head but his cock softened, just a tad, but enough to halt the imminent gusher in his balls.
“I want you to go to the mall with me this afternoon,” I cried.
“Okay, Mom. Okay.”
“Inside,” I hissed.
“Yes. I want you to come inside with me.”
“Mom, I can’t.”
“You can, if you want to enough.”
“No, Mom. I can’t.”
“You can,” I repeated. “Do you want to?”
I moved my hand up and down once. Gary’s eyes widened in shock.
“Do you want to?” I repeated, stroking him a second time.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
I stroked him twice and loosened my grip on his balls.
I tickled his balls and started a steady stroke, up and down, up and down, slowly, gripping his cock tightly, squeezing up to the head, rubbing its underside with my thumb and grazing over the helmet with the tip of my index finger.
“Promise on your love for your mother.”
I bent my head, blew hot breath onto his cock and fixed him with my gaze.
“I promise on my love for you.”
“Well, alright then.”
I pulled my hand back to fit Gary’s cock between my tits, and started jacking him with a nice, regular stroke. I wiggled my tits around his engorged cock and smiled. Gary was beyond doing anything but trying to breathe which was obviously a struggle for him. He lifted his hips, trying to fuck my breasts. He was close, very close. I laughed, throatily encouraging him.
“Come,” I cooed.
“I will. I promised.”
“No,” I said. “Come.”
Ahhh, the dawning realization in his eyes as he understood my invitation was so wickedly delicious.
“Come?” he asked.
“Yes, come; on my tits.”
I bent my head so I could see his purple, bloated helmet pushing through, appearing and then disappearing within my breasts. It surfaced again and I quickly blew hot breath on it.
“Oh, my God. Mom!” Gary gasped, his legs straining, going rigid.
I choked back a laugh of exhilaration. It was such a thrill to make him feel this way, this young man, my son, with his strong, young cock. I blew again, and again, and again. His legs repeatedly tensed with superhuman effort to thrust his pole through my tits.
“Come,” I urged.
He was beyond answering. He could barely breathe.
“Come,” I pleaded, wanting to feel his spunk splatter all over my breasts, a debasement I had never experienced before and would have rejected with disgust if asked, but not now.
The first spurt surprised me. I was expecting it on my tits, but Gary’s cock released its treasure when it poked through them, lobbing a thick string of white goo onto my chin and across my lips. The second sprayed my neck and the underside of my jaw. The third came when he poked through again, onto my face.
I couldn’t believe it. I pulled away as Gary’s hips lurched, spasmodically dispensing the rest of his spunk. I stood, and stumbled back, turned, and ran up the stairs, needing to get clean, suddenly not wanting my son to see me shamed like that.
In the bathroom, I turned on the water and bent over to immerse myself in its cleansing stream but, at the last second, raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror. Gary’s thick, sticky goo was strewn across my face and neck and was dripping onto my breasts. I laughed at my reflection.
“You wanton little bitch,” I scolded myself, a crooked smile twisting my face.
Gary knocked on the bedroom door while I was washing myself.
I didn’t answer, and he went away. I followed a few minutes later and heard him beating himself to climax again, crying out my name. This time, the door had been left wide open but Gary didn’t see me. His back was to me as he lay on his bed, hand dangling in front of himself out of my sight, moving rapidly in concert with his flexing buttocks. I loved their strength and didn’t leave until they went rigid, tightly clenched until he had dispensed his second load.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I didn’t take Gary to the mall until it was almost closing time. I led him straight to the lingerie store. The young woman recognized me; I guess I had made a bit of an impression. I was amused because I could read the assumption behind the look on her face, the calculation that explained my inexplicable rush to buy a negligee on my last visit. Gary looked much more like his father than me and I could see her comprehension mixed with surprise that I would bring my young lover into the store. However, she was a quick study and moved to meet us at the negligee section before I actually turned that way.
She was more attractive than I remembered and I patted myself on the back for the choice of coming here. If this young beauty couldn’t pull Gary away from me, nobody could. I set about getting her involved as directly and quickly as I could.
“I’m so glad you’re still open,” I gushed.
“We’re about to close,” she replied, indicating the partly closed sliding glass doors across the front of the store.
“Oh no,” I cried. “I have an emergency. I simply must get a few things,” I said, making a point of ignoring Gary but somehow managing to convey how central he was to my ‘emergency’.
The girl smiled sympathetically.
“Couldn’t you stay open for just a few more minutes?” I pleaded.
She was hesitant but succumbed to my desperation.
“Well,” she said, looking at the expensive underwear I had picked up, “why don’t you take those into the back so nobody can see you in the store while I close up. “
“Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver. Come with me, Gary,” I said, taking him into tow.
I found a fitting room in the back and started removing my dress, leaving the door open. Gary watched, obviously believing we were to be left alone and rightfully thinking I wouldn’t mind. I think he was truly surprised several minutes later when I turned around and addressed the girl. He clearly didn’t realize she had been there watching him watch me for a full minute before I spoke.
“What do you think?”
“I think it would look better in blue,” she replied honestly.
I agreed with her assessment. This girl wasn’t just interested in a sale, she was out to get a satisfied customer that would return time and again. She held up the same outfit I had taken but in midnight blue.
“Thank you,” I smiled appreciatively, leaning past Gary to take the garments. “No, don’t go. I need your opinion.”
I glanced at Gary in disdain, acknowledging our mutual understanding of male limits regarding clothes. I started removing the first negligee, then paused.
“I should know your name if I’m going to undress in front of you.”
“Maria, and you’re?”
“And?” Maria looked at Gary.
Gary was tongue-tied. “Gary,” I answered for him.
Maria smiled. “I’m here to help, Gary. There’s no pressure on you.”
I removed the negligee, leaving my own panties which I had kept on. I put on the blue ones, but removed my bra. I felt self-conscious about my breasts in front of this young woman but only for a moment. Gary’s eyes showed me how attractive my older, not-as-firm-as-they-once-were breasts, still were. They might be less firm but they still retained their shape and my nipples were, if anything, more prominent than they were when set upon their younger selves, and easily showed through the material of the negligee.
It was my turn to be surprised when I caught a glimmer of interest in Maria’s eyes. Perhaps there was more than a sales interest in this young woman. I seized upon the discovery, immediately realizing its potential to help me quickly attain my goal of getting Gary interested in a younger woman, and having her return his interest.
“That looks great on you,” Maria commented.
“Do you think so?” I asked, twisting back and forth, examining myself in the mirror. “It’s hard to tell with my own on underneath.”
“You can take them off,” Maria suggested.
“Really? Can you still sell them if I do?”
“Oh no, but we can use them as demos for the floor only.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, immediately taking her up on the suggestion before she changed her mind, slipping both sets of panties down my legs. I turned my bottom toward both of them as I bent over, taking my time to daintily step out of the panties, separating them, and pulling the new ones back on as I let the others drop. A weird feeling came over me. I had never undressed completely in front of a woman before.
“What do you think?” I asked, preening in front of Gary and Maria.
“Wonderful,” Maria replied.
I cut Gary off before he could reveal our relationship. Not yet, anyway.
“Gary doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I explained to Maria, “unless he can make a comparison.”
Maria smiled and nodded.
“Do you think you could help?”
“Please?” Maria sought further explanation.
“Can you help him compare?”
“I don’t… “
“What are you wearing?”
“Oh, I see. Um, nothing fancy, just my regular stuff.”
“I bet it’s not just regular, working in a store like this. Would you mind? Just for a comparison?”
Maria shrugged, then reached behind herself to undo her dress. She fumbled with it, which surprised me, working with clothes like she did. She turned her back to me, seeking help, but I turned her toward Gary.
“Help her with her dress, honey.”
Gary managed to undo the zipper and Maria actually blushed, her eyes fluttering closed. She was a real cutie. This was so much fun!
The dress hung loosely on Maria for a moment, then she shrugged and it fell to the floor. Gosh, she was built. Her breasts belied her slight frame and her slightly darker skin was beautifully textured, almost outshining the black bra and panties. They were a nice set, obviously from this store. Maria looked up, opening her eyes and standing demurely in front of me. We both acted as if Gary wasn’t there.
“Come closer,” I beckoned, “so he can see.”
Maria stepped closer to me.
“Closer,” I whispered.
Maria obeyed, until we were standing breast to breast, only an inch apart.
“What do you think, Gary?” I asked, looking over Maria’s shoulder, my eyes shushing him.
After a few seconds of silence, I made a suggestion, “Perhaps if he could just concentrate on the panties? They’re his favorite part.”
Without waiting for an answer, I pulled the negligee off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I was standing naked in front of this girl, this stranger, except for my panties. I felt suddenly exposed.
Maria hesitated, then slowly reached behind herself and released her bra. She shrugged it onto her forearms and bent to let it fall off and onto the floor on top of the negligee.
“What do you think, Gary?” she asked.
“Closer,” I urged.
Maria complied. Our breasts touched, electrically, nipples grazing one another. Gary’s breathing became noticeable and I smiled, my lips only millimeters from Maria’s.
“He looking down there,” I told Maria, barely loud enough for her to hear. Maria nodded. “Come closer,” I whispered, tightening my buttocks and pushing my mound forward.
Maria didn’t comply but she stood her ground. Our nipples grazed past each and our breasts mashed together, then our panties met, rustling, mound to mound. Gary groaned. The heat from Maria’s steamy mound almost made me swoon as our private parts sought each other, pressing, seeking alignment, then finding it as our grooves fit together, perfectly. My lips nibbled hers as I initiated our first kiss.
A key rattled in the door.
“Oh, my God. It’s the manager!” Maria cried, pulling back.
I grabbed my dress from the hook and Maria stooped to pick up hers.
“Quick,” she urged. “Go out the back.”
We stumbled to the back of the store, both struggling to get out dresses on, Maria’s face frantic except for when she looked at Gary, at his groin, and the large lump there.
“Let me help you,” I gasped, pulling up her zipper.
“No, no,” Maria cried, coming to her senses. “Go, you must go!”
Gary and rushed through the door. It closed quickly, but quietly. That girl was on the ball. Gary and I were outside, behind the mall. I turned my back to him. “Zip me up,” I spoke calmly.
We walked around the mall to the car and were almost there when I caught Vanessa from the corner of my eye about to get into her car. I didn’t slow my pace but turned my head to look at her. She held my gaze, responding with the look of a woman who had a secret. It was a triumphant look.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
John was home when we got back to the house. He offered to take us all out for dinner but settled for order-in. Gary went directly to his room.
“A setback?” John asked.
“No. Well, maybe. I’ll have to see,” I said.
“Well, we shouldn’t be having any more problems from that Billy kid.”
“Oh? You talked to Vanessa?” The image of Vanessa’s superior smile flooded back into my consciousness.
“Yes,” John replied.
“Then everything is settled?”
“Not quite. It’s a work in progress, you might say.”
I wasn’t happy with his answer but it explained Vanessa’s haughty expression, a look I hadn’t experienced since John’s mother passed away. That crooked smile meant only one thing to me: Vanessa was having, or at least initiating, an affair with my husband. Was she doing it to protect her son, to stop John from going to the authorities, or was she just doing it because she could? Had it actually been consummated, or would Vanessa be satisfied in the knowledge that she could have my man anytime she wanted?
I was surprised that I cared at this point but I did. I wanted my husband but I didn’t have time to fight for him now. Not at this moment, anyway.
“Can we talk about it later? I’ve got to be with Gary. It was hard for him out there today.”
“There’s no need to talk,” John said. “I’ll order in.”
Now I definitely knew there was a problem. I turned to go upstairs and almost stopped but managed to keep walking, though more slowly, up the stairs. The comforter was folded neatly and piled on the couch. I hadn’t done that and certainly Gary wouldn’t have folded it. We must have left it spread on the floor in front of the couch. I pressed on.
Gary was surprised by my entry. He sat up in bed, where he had been lying in his underwear, his hands covering his obvious erection. Leaving the door open, I went and stood close to him to help hide his indiscretion in case John followed me upstairs. From the size of his erection, I’m sure Gary was reliving the scene in the store.
“You didn’t let me know if you liked the new negligee.”
Gary looked up at me with a dumb expression on his face.
“I guess we were in a pretty big hurry to leave,” I smiled.
“So maybe you can tell me now, before our dinner arrives.”
My hands, which had been hanging by my sides, began sliding my dress up. Gary’s eyes widened and he looked around me to his open door and the hallway beyond. His father was out there somewhere he knew, but upstairs or downstairs?
I didn’t tell him. My hands rose further, raising the hem slowly, each inch further impairing Gary’s breathing, until it was apparent that I was still wearing the blue negligee. Gary’s eyes were riveted on my legs, or more accurately, on the shiny blue negligee now being gathered with my dress as it continued its journey up my legs. I kept pulling and knew the instant the blue panties appeared by the loud gasp Gary released.
“From now on, I want you to take me anywhere I want to go, shopping, hiking, swimming, biking, anywhere.”
Gary mumbled something.
“I can’t hear you.”
I placed my right foot a half-step to the side, parting my legs. Gary stared but didn’t do anything. I swayed my hips, bringing the blue panties closer to him.
“Do they look nice?” I asked.
“Yes,” he croaked.
“Do they smell nice?’
Gary looked up but quickly looked back down. I put my hand on top of his head but didn’t direct him in any way. He leaned forward an inch, and breathed in, deep.
It was an outrageous request. Gary didn’t need any further motivation to go outside. I knew he would follow me to the mall just to see Maria again, that I could slowly disentangle myself, leaving them alone, with each other. Maybe that’s why I was doing this, because I was afraid of losing my son completely. I needed to give him a little more to make sure he never left me for good.
The phone rang. I heard John answer it but he didn’t call out. It was for him, which was strange because he hardly ever received calls at home. His voice lowered and then I could barely hear him but not enough to hear what was being said. Was it Vanessa?
Gary breathed in again, a long, very deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He had closed his eyes.
I looked over my shoulder, down the hall. I still couldn’t hear what John was saying. I looked at my hand, still resting on top of Gary’s head. I pulled, urging it forward.
“Do they taste good?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
Gary’s head tipped forward until his nose pressed into my blue puffiness, then straightened a little as he thrust his chin forward. I felt his hand sliding up between my thighs. My own breathing became as ragged as his. Something warm and wet graced my mound, his tongue.
My knees buckled and I lurched forward. Gary’s free arm circled around my waist and the hand between my legs rose up to take some of my weight but his mouth, his mouth remained latched on the blue, silk panties. Gary’s tongue dug into the furrow between my lips as his mouth surrounded me, chewing. I fell further forward, losing my balance, but Gary’s hand no longer held me up, it was exploring, seeking, squiggling inside the panties. He was leaning back, across the bed, slowing my fall, his encircling arm keeping me from sliding off, holding me in place, on his mouth.
We collapsed with a silent bang, the bedsprings the only announcement of the illegal coupling of his mouth and my pussy. I hadn’t even tried to break my fall. The panties were being dragged down by Gary’s hand, its fingers hooked through the bottom. His mouth made contact with my bareness and his tongue immediately snaked into my cunt.
I was holding his ears though I couldn’t remember grabbing them. I pulled, trying to get his tongue further inside me, directing it, churning my hips over his face.
“Eat it!” I raged.
“Unnghhh,” I cried as his thick fingers shoved into me.
I humped his face, unconcerned for his comfort and no longer worried about my husband. I tried to tell Gary what to do but it came out garbled. I had lost it, lost all control. I ravaged his face, coming already, unbelievably, coming already. I turned my face into the bed and bit the covers, filling my face, muffling my orgasm, legs spastically jerking off the other side of the bed. I was done, relaxing, flooding with relief. I got up on my knees, worked my way back and then stood up, fitted the panties around my sex and smoothed the dress down over my legs.
“Dinner will be here soon,” I said, as if that’s what I’d come upstairs to say.
The doorbell rang.
“It’s here. Don’t be long.” I looked down at Gary, still sitting in his swollen underwear. “I’ll take care of that later.”
I turned and left. The self-recriminations started before I even reached the stairs. I had lost control, but worse, there hadn’t even been a struggle. I had no excuse and could no longer cover my actions with illusions of helping my son.
I wanted him. That was the cold, harsh reality. If his cock hadn’t been trapped inside his underwear, I might have forced myself upon it. The very thought of his youthful pole squeezing inside me made my legs weaken with desire, sending me sideways into the wall.
Get hold of yourself!
I had to recover, to refocus on my goal. Get Gary out of the house. Check. Get him acquainted with a girl. Check. Get him involved with said girl. In progress. What had happened wasn’t a disaster. In fact it was a stroke of good fortune for it afforded me the excuse to show Gary just how exquisite a woman’s attention can be. I owed him for what he had done in the bedroom and I would show him, then explain how I couldn’t go further because I was his mother. He would have to understand that. However, Maria could and I would offer to invite her over to get things started. I straightened up and moved forward with a new sense of purpose. I had a plan and the will to put it into effect.
The doorbell rang again.
“I’ve got to go. Yes, tomorrow. Okay. Really, I have to go.”
John had been on the phone all this time? The hair rose on the back of my neck. I had intended to deal with Gary tonight and then turn my attention to my husband tomorrow but it sounded like I had better start with John sooner rather than later. Gary would have to wait until tomorrow.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I feigned weariness and escaped to my bedroom much earlier than usual. There, I made a few minor preparations: placing a picture of John’s mother on my bedside table, putting on a little makeup so I would look like she did at my age, and dressing in one of her full-length, thin flannel nightgowns that I retrieved from a box in the attic. I was pleased with its low cut neckline. I had never seen her wear anything like it, only the ones that came right up to her neck, yet there were piles more like this in her things. I waited. About an hour later, I heard John’s footsteps approaching and was exiting the bathroom with the light behind me just as he entered the room.
The additional attention he paid me was obvious though I doubt John was aware of it or that he would know why if he was. I managed to draw his attention to my body with an ease that was surprising given his lack of interest for the past year or more. I knew when I crawled under the covers that his meeting with Vanessa was far from his mind and I was glad that John turned out the light quickly so I could hide the triumphant smile that couldn’t be stricken from my face. John’s hands quickly sought me out, tentatively at first but when they weren’t rebuffed he nestled in behind me. He was excited, very excited.
“I’m tired, John,” I complained but rubbed my bottom against his stiffness despite my words.
He nibbled my neck, something I loved. I wondered if his mother liked it too? John’s hand rubbed over my hip, pulling me back more firmly against his hard cock. Did she like it like that, from behind? We hardly ever did it that way, just the few times we’d both been drinking heavily at parties. I pushed back and wiggled my bum.
“I’m so tired, John.” I paused, to let the disappointing feeling of rejection sink in, then continued, “Too tired to help you much.”
I lifted my bottom up and let it settle onto his throbbing hardness, then turned my face into the pillow. John’s hands immediately started dragging the long nightgown up my legs. His breathing was already harsh and became positively ragged as he pushed the hem up and over my buttocks. His cock quickly followed, stabbing aimlessly. I groaned and twisted my hips toward the bed, away from his probing organ but opened my legs. He leaned over me, nestling between my legs and pushing them farther apart as his cock probed my pussy. I was surprised how wet I was. I moaned and John shoved himself inside me, his hands encircling my waist and then slipping up inside the bodice of the nightgown to grasp my tits.
“Oh God, it’s been so long,” he whispered, starting to fuck me.
Yes, it has, I thought but then his words jarred me. What did he mean by so long? Since he’d been with me, or his mother?
John was up to full speed already, slamming his cock in and jerking it out, showing no finesse or sense of control. His hands squeezed my tits roughly as he banged about on my ass, huffing and puffing with the effort. I cocked my hips and shoved my ass up off the bed, following him on the out-stroke, moaning loudly to show him how much I loved it. And I did! I was so wet, the sound of his cock squelching in my pussy filled the bedroom, even though we were still covered. The words just popped out of my mouth.
“Fuck it, fuck it!”
“I am, I will,” John cried, increasing his effort.
I pushed my ass higher and felt him rise up to position himself above me. His feet were beside my knees and his hands slipped from my tits to grip my waist, holding me as he sunk his shaft in deep, kept me still as he pulled out and banged back inside, expelling his breath, then again and again and again. I hung my head and propped it against the pillow, bracing myself for the onslaught, meeting each thrust with a welcoming parry of my own.
It seemed like John fucked me like that for hours but the intensity was deceiving; it was over in just a few minutes. John pulled out and dragged the nightgown down to cover my ass. I reached back to tug it down to my knees and when I stretched my legs John pulled the nightgown down to my ankles. I kept my face hidden in the pillow as he arranged the covers over me. John went into the bathroom to clean himself but when he returned I remained hidden in the pillow as if we had done something illicit. We went to sleep without uttering a word to each other.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
“Gary. Gary, are you out here?”
No answer. I closed the back door and searched the house again. He was gone. I called his phone but heard it ringing in his room. Panic visited me again. I ran downstairs just as the door opened and Gary came in.
“Gary!” I cried. “Where have you been?”
“At the mall,” he answered nonchalantly. “I had a coffee with Maria.”
“You had a coffee with Maria?” I repeated, dumbfounded.
“Oh. Are you hungry?” I asked, still disconcerted. “I’ll make you something.”
“No. I had a scone.”
“Oh.” I looked around the living room, spotted the comforter still folded up on the couch, then looked down at my skirt and blouse.
“Why don’t you spread the comforter then and I’ll get changed.”
“You don’t need to get changed.”
“You don’t want me to get changed?’
I was perplexed. What was happening? Why didn’t Gary want to see me in the revealing body stocking? Jealousy flooded inexplicably through me. Of course. He had just seen Maria. So it had happened that fast? He had given me over so quickly for that little bit of fluff?
I had reached my goal but felt little exultation that it had been achieved. I knew Gary would lose interest in me but hadn’t expected it to hit me like a train or to be thrown off a cliff. I moved quickly to the couch, pulled the comforter off and spread it out on the rug. The doll tumbled out. It was naked. I stared at it. John must have found it and placed it within the folded comforter. I was still fixated on it when Gary sat down. I swung my gaze toward him.
“You don’t want me to change?” I asked again.
Gary shook his head and held his hand out, toward the doll. I picked it up and handed it to him. Gary took the doll but held onto my hand, pulling me toward him and down. I knelt before him. Gary laid the doll on his lap, face down. I looked at it, confused, my mind a muddle, then slowly came to grips with the message he was sending. Of course, last night, I had said, “I’ll take care of that later.” But there was no need. Gary was up and about on his own initiative. I didn’t need to do this. I shouldn’t do it, and I should tell him it was out of the question. I picked up the doll, and tossed it onto the couch. Gary smiled, and waited for my next move.
My hand returned to his lap, found the waistband of his shorts, and gripped it. My other hand found his zipper and pulled it down. I stopped.
“Take it out, Mother.”
I was shocked by his confidence and the commanding tone of his voice but I followed his instructions without question, pulling his underwear down with one hand and lifting his wonderfully virile cock with the other. I waited for further instructions but none came. I pulled my hand up, then pushed it down, up and then down, the growing stiffness of the meat in its grasp sending a thrill up my arm and into my brain. It had become hard so quickly, and grown so large.
When I reached a steady rhythm, Gary leaned forward and grasped my blouse above the top button. I pushed his cock toward him to give him room to unbutton my blouse but he surprised me, yanking his hands down and out, ripping my blouse open. Buttons flew everywhere and I gasped, yanking back on his cock but holding onto it to keep myself upright. Gary laughed, and reached for my tits. He squeezed them for a minute or two, roughly like John had the night before, but soon released them.
His hands found a new home, on my head. Gently but firmly, he tipped it forward until my mouth was hovering over his cock. Gary kept applying pressure until his tip dipped into my mouth on each upward jack. I could have stopped it by simply stilling my hand, but I didn’t. I kept jacking him off and he kept pushing my mouth further and further onto his hard cock. Soon it was slick with my saliva which I produced more of the further he pulled my head onto his cock.
Each time Gary pulled my mouth far down his shaft, he held me there for a few seconds before allowing me to pull off. Eventually, it was all I could do to gulp in some air before he pulled me onto his pole again, holding me down until my head shook with the need for oxygen. My head popped off with a wet, sucking inhalation and air rushed into my lungs through my mouth which drooled all over my son’s eager cock. Then came the drop, as far down as I could manage. Eventually I reached his root and Gary held me down longer, groaning, a sound I loved so much I twisted my head about, rubbing my lips in his pubic hair. He was using me, and I loved it!
There was no warning when he came. When his cock erupted, I had him fully inside my mouth, and his seed spilled like a flow of lava that couldn’t be contained. I tried to swallow it all but some dripped out, squeezing past my lips and running down his shaft. Gary loosened his hold so he could sink back into the couch but I leaned forward, following his cock, licking it, sucking the tip, licking the shaft, kissing the tip. I wasn’t ready for it to end.
Gary got up after that and made himself something to eat despite telling me he wasn’t hungry. I went upstairs to change my blouse. The rest of the day, Gary ignored me. By early afternoon, I was strutting around, trying to draw his attention to me. In desperation, I unbuttoned my blouse and literally hung my tits in front of him as he watched TV.
Gary looked at my tits, then up into my eyes. He stood and turned me around, sitting me down on the comforter with my back to the couch. Grabbing a couple of pillows, he stuffed them behind me. He undid his shorts and pulled his cock out which was already unlimbering to its full length. I felt triumphant, soaking in the thrill of confirmation, the satisfaction of making him hard. Gary grabbed my feet and pulled me down until my head was propped against the edge of the couch.
“No, Gary. You can’t. We can’t actually do it.”
But he wasn’t spreading my legs, or trying to lift my skirt. Gary straddled me and waddled past my knees until his cock was in front of my face. I understood then and, despite my need to deny him, felt disappointment. I grabbed his cock and started jacking it but he batted my hands away. I tried again with the same result. Finally, I leaned forward and took his tip into my mouth. He smiled and nodded.
Slowly, Gary began fucking my mouth, casually flexing his hips, each time shoving more and more of his meat into my face. Whenever I tried to exert some control by taking him in hand, he batted my hand away. Finally, he grabbed both hands and firmly planted them on either side of me along the front edge of the couch. Even when I let them fall to the floor, Gary replaced my hands on the couch. So I lay there, arms stretched out wide beside me, as my son fucked my face.
He took much longer to come the second time but released less spunk and was careful to get it all inside my mouth, leaving no mess to clean up on my face. He grasped my hair and gently turned my face up to look at him. His other hand reached down and quickly snaked up my skirt. Grazing his fingers over the gusset of my panties, he told me how he understood that I couldn’t bring myself to be with him that way.
“I know you can’t, Mom. I guess I’ll just have to lose my virginity with Maria when I’m ready.”
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I had more sex in the next week than at any other time in my life. During the day I sucked Gary or had my face fucked at least twice, and sometimes more. I was flabbergasted by how much I liked having his cock in my mouth. I had never enjoyed going down on a man, even John, but the feel of Gary’s shaft sliding through my lips made me wet. Go figure. On the down side, Gary never put his mouth on me again. He did finger me after coming every time, playing with my cunt longer each time, but always leaving me hanging.
At night, I was so horny I was ready to rape John. I dug every sexy nightgown out of the attic that his mother had owned. It was a ritual after supper for me to go upstairs, put on a nightgown but no panties, apply old style makeup and wait in bed for my husband to fuck me, or rather, the memory of his mother. John always did me from behind, clambering aboard, straddling my thighs and rocking his cock in and out until we both came, literally out of breath. Each time, I hid my face as he gently rearranged my nightgown, and not a word was spoken.
Gary started fingering me at various times during the day, usually catching me by surprise. Unable to predict when he would ‘attack’, I always wore a skirt or a dress and never wore panties. The downer was that he never took me all the way. He always left me hanging but that didn’t stop me from opening my legs the second I felt his hands slithering up my skirt, and I squirmed on his fingers all the more frantically.
He liked to fuck my face while I was sitting up in bed. He had made up a couple of small ropes with wide loops at each end, one end of which he would loop over the headboard posts and the other around my hands. It didn’t make sense because they were so loose I could slip my hands out at any time but I never did. I dutifully kept my hands in place until he was finished and often stayed like that long after he was gone.
I didn’t even try to free myself when Gary started undressing me completely, not even when he spread my legs and pressed his knee against my sex while he shoved his cock in and out of my mouth. One day, he didn’t put his cock in my mouth but instead kissed and licked my tits and sucked my nipples in so hard I almost came twice. He rubbed his cock all over me and once hovered over my pussy and blew his hot breath on it.
“Let go,” he whispered. “Free yourself.”
I thought about what Gary said and wondered why he liked to tie me up in ropes that couldn’t possibly hold me. I think I knew why. He had imprisoned himself in his room. Only he kept himself there, and only he could free himself. Oh, maybe he couldn’t have done it without my help but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t wanted it to and only he could keep himself free. He was trying to show me that I was living in my own prison and, in his own way, he was trying to show me the way out.
Gary left early every morning now but was home before lunch for the first facefuck of the day. One such morning, after he had finished, he leaned close to me and whispered, “Maria’s going to be ready for me soon.”
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Maria’s going to be ready for him soon, or, more to the point, he was going to be ready for her. I had won! My plan had worked and all the sacrifice, no matter how taboo, no matter how forbidden, no matter how wrong, it had been worth it. And but for the suspicions of a few—Sandra, whom I could trust and Vanessa whom I could deal with—no one was the wiser.
Except maybe John. Perhaps he didn’t really know how far I had gone, despite finding the doll and the comforter spread out on the living room floor, or maybe he was wilfully blind. Once, I would have believed in his naivety but no more. Not after finding out about his visits to Vanessa who was so much like his mother, or experiencing his passion when I put on old fashioned makeup and dressed in his mother’s night clothes. No, I was sure John knew, and he had warned me.
Gary was going to lose his virginity soon, maybe as early as tomorrow. He was going to give it to the girl I had introduced him to, after all I had done for him. He was going to give it to her, and now I wanted it!
I looked at my watch. The mall was closing soon so I grabbed my purse and ran out the door. I would deal with Maria once and for all.
The route to the mall was a blur. Luckily I encountered no pedestrians or cyclists. I roared into the lot and parked in front of the doors, in a handicapped space. Slamming the car door, I rushed inside. The sliding storefront was already pulled almost closed. I walked toward them, past the few straggling shoppers remaining in the mall. A girl exited the lingerie store. It wasn’t Maria but she was wearing a name tag. I remembered seeing her before. She worked there too so maybe Maria wasn’t working today. I hurried to ask her if Maria was working tomorrow. I expected her to turn around to pull the door shut but she just walked away. I was in luck, someone was still inside. The manager, or Maria?
I slipped through the door. Maria entered from the backroom, saw me and smiled. I walked purposely toward her.
“Hello,” she greeted me cheerfully. “It’s so nice to see you. I was hoping to see you and your friend again. It’s been so long I thought you weren’t coming back.”
I was taken aback by her words. She hadn’t seen us? She meant me, she couldn’t mean Gary. He’d been coming here every morning for weeks now.
“I’ll just lock up. Why don’t you grab something and take it out back. I’ll be right with you.”
Maria walked past me toward the door. I half turned to watch her as she went by. She seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and surprised too.
“You didn’t bring your friend with you?”
“No,” I replied.
“That’s okay. Men don’t know anything about clothes, anyway.”
I walked into the back room and stood at the entrance to the fitting room. I dropped my purse on the seat and turned to wait for Maria. I hadn’t picked up anything to try on since I still thought we were about to have a confrontation. I was sure that Maria had made the suggestion to get me out of the front part of the store, but I was wrong. She appeared in the doorway holding a dainty, sexy red negligee.
“You forgot to get something so I picked one out that should look gorgeous on you.”
Maria walked toward me, the negligee dangling from her hand. I started to speak, to accuse her of seducing my son but for some reason held my tongue. Maria hung the negligee on the hook on the inside of the open fitting room door.
“Here, let me help you,” she said, starting to unbutton my blouse.
I can’t explain why I didn’t react. I stood there while this young woman whom I had only met twice removed my blouse, tugging the ends out of my skirt to do the bottom two buttons, and peeling it down my arms. She put the blouse on a hanger and hung it behind me on a separate hook on the fitting room wall. As she reached past me, I noted how pretty her perfume was and that she seemed to pause so I could take the time to smell it. Maria stepped back but remained close so she could reach around me to undo my bra. Our chests touched.
“Gary hasn’t been in… to buy me anything?” I asked.
“Gary? Oh, your friend? No, he hasn’t. I’m sure he meant to but they forget, don’t they?”
The bra was loose and Maria was pulling it around to the front, dragging it off my shoulders and down my arms. I straightened them and held them in front of myself to make it easier to take off but kept my arms together, hiding my breasts and especially my nipples which were stiffening despite my self-conscious pleas. Maria draped the bra over my purse on the seat.
“So he hasn’t been in?”
“I haven’t seen him,” Maria said. “Let’s get this skirt off, shall we?”
She loosened the skirt and knelt down as she pushed it over my hips and let it fall slowly down my legs, tracing a path down the outside of each one with her thumbs as she held the skirt. I stepped out of it and Maria stood, picked up a hanger with built-in pegs and hung the skirt neatly on the hook holding my blouse.
She turned back, looked me up and down, and asked, “Would you like to compare it to the one I’m wearing, like last time?”
Maria didn’t wait for an answer. She reached behind herself and unzipped her dress. I was falling from her shoulders by the time my brain registered what she was doing.
“I’m not… uh, I’m not…”
Maria wasn’t wearing a bra and her breasts, tanned and beautiful, sprang off her chest with youthful enthusiasm. Unlike my own which, though great for my age still sagged a little, they were firm and supple. Maria swayed toward me and grasped my hands in hers. If she thought I was going escape, she was wrong. My feet were as fixed to the floor as my eyes were fixated on her breasts.
“I like yours better,” she said.
“I’m not, I’m not, uh…” I stammered.
“Neither am I,” Maria whispered, her fingers loosening around my hands and sliding up my arms.
My eyes flickered to her face. Maria was staring at my breasts as her fingers tickled up my arms, her lips quivering in concert with my vibrating nipples. Her fingertips rounded my shoulders and traced a line along the ridge into the hollow of my neck, circled several times, then trailed down to the upper swelling of my breasts. She was so confident, so in control.
“Maria,” I whispered, my mouth dry and voice hoarse. “Really, I’m not a lesbian.”
“Neither am I,” she whispered, “but you’re so beautiful.”
The tip of Maria’s index fingers collided with my nipples and pushed, bending them over, and holding them like that.
“I love your nipples. They’re so…there!”
“Yours will be too, in time.”
“Yours weren’t always so…”
“No, but my breasts weren’t so soft, either. They used to be firm like yours. As you get older, they’ll soften up and lose some of their mass which will make your nipples stand out more.”
“Are they more sensitive?”
“I think so.” I sucked in my breath as Maria pushed her fingertips past, allowing my nipples to snap erect. “I can’t remember for sure.”
“I wish mine were like yours.”
I gasped as Maria pinched my nipples between thumbs and forefingers, holding them gently.
“And I yours,” I whispered, reaching up to cup her firmer breasts.
We stood there, caressing each other’s breasts, eyes alternating between tits and face, breaths shortening and coming more quickly.
“If we’re not, you know, then why are we doing this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Maria asked. “Who cares? No one’s watching.”
A streak of fear suddenly ran through me.
“Your manager, he’s not…”
“No.” Maria corrected me, “She’s at her other store.”
I relaxed and my pelvis contacted Maria’s. She pushed back, melding our panties.
“Mmmmm, this is nice,” Maria said. “Why can’t men be like this?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, gently twisting to the left and back, pressing my panties more firmly into Maria’s.
We rocked together like that for a couple of minutes, neither letting go of the other’s nipples, in limbo except that our pussies pressed together more firmly and actually rubbed against each other.
“Can I kiss you?” Maria asked, leaning toward me, already knowing the answer.
Her mouth was on mine. Her tongue didn’t follow. It was longer than I expected and surprisingly nice. I liked it.
Maria pulled back but only half an inch. Her lips brushed over mine teasingly, then slipped around to my cheek and up to my ear lobe, nibbled it, then dropped onto my neck where the tip of her tongue appeared, trailing slickly out to the edge of my shoulder. She returned to nibble my face around the edge of my lips.
“Does your husband know about your young man?”
“He knows who he is,” I responded truthfully.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“That’s quite a coup, bagging someone so young, but looking at you, feeling you, I can understand why he’s attracted to you.”
“Am I more interesting because I have a young man?”
I nibbled on Maria’s face as she paused to consider my question.
“I don’t know. Yes, I think it does.”
Maria resumed her caresses. We were now trading kisses and nibbles, each still working the other’s nipples.
“You’re not much older than Gary,” I whispered, rubbing my panties across hers.
“I’m not attracted to younger men,” she laughed.
“But you are to older women?”
“Not until now.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said, immediately regretting my loose tongue.
“You avoided my question. Does your husband know about Gary?”
“I’m not sure. I think maybe he does,” I answered truthfully.
“Is that the half of it?”
Maria released my nipples and let her hands circle around my waist, down my back, and onto my ass. I followed suit.
I replied thickly. Maria had slipped her hand around and pushed it between us, cupping my pussy. I did the same and was pleased when she gasped in response. We each rubbed the front of the other’s panties, found each other’s grooves, and explored gently.
Maria sighed. “You’re so wicked. Did you let him find out on purpose?”
“No. I really don’t know if he knows for sure but I suspect he does.”
“Tell me more you wicked bitch.”
“Ungghhh,” I moaned. Maria had raised her hand up above my panties, slipped her fingers inside, and pushed them down, skidding in perfect alignment through my slick groove.
“Tell me,” she rasped, curling the tip of her finger inward, probing my entrance, and pushing inside.
It had to be her long finger because it reached deep. I was about to speak, to reveal my secret, when Maria’s tongue filled my mouth. It was an exquisite kiss, my very first with a woman. By the time it ended, my back was to the wall but Maria’s body had followed mine, and my finger was inside her. Hers had become thicker and I realized that sometime during the kiss, Maria had slipped another finger inside me.
“Show me how wicked you are,” she urged.
Her fingers pushed and twisted as Maria lowered her mouth to my breast and sucked my nipple deep into her mouth.
“Oh God,” I cried.
“Tell me,” Maria hissed. “I know there’s something more. Tell me.” Her mouth latched onto my tit again and sucked hard while her fingers pushed in so deep my pelvis lifted and my hips bucked toward her.
“He’s my son,” I cried. “Gary is my son!”
Maria lifted her head, and stared at me, mouth open.
“He’s my son,” I whimpered, shame overwhelming me despite the conviction that what I was doing was right. An obscure part of my brain noted how deep must run the courage of the righteous.
Maria’s head shook slowly from side to side, unbelieving.
“I had to,” I wailed. “He needed me.”
“You had sex with him?” Maria was incredulous.
Her mouth was on me, her fingers slipped out and her hand curled around my waist, pulling me tight. The kiss was urgent, yearning, until Maria abruptly pulled away.
“But you’re going to, right? You will let him, won’t you?”
Her eyes were feverish, demanding. I nodded hesitantly. “Maybe.”
“You must! And you’ll tell me when you do, right?”
“Yes.” I don’t know why I committed to do that. At the moment, it was important for Maria to know that I would.
Maria tugged my panties over my hips and pushed them onto my thighs. I thought she would kneel then to pull them further like she had with my skirt but instead she pushed her own panties down. Quickly, she pressed into me, our bare pussies mashing together.
“Please do let him fuck you. That would be so cool, so fucking awesome.”
Maria pulled on my waist, yanking me hard onto her pussy, as if she was fucking me.
“God, you’re so hot. If I had a son, I’d fuck him too.”
“Shut up,” I cried, encircling her waist and pulling her pussy onto mine.
Maria moved her hands around and grabbed my nipples again. Her mouth found mine and we kissed, tongues moving back and forth, slipping around each other, entwining, while our hips bucked together. Our bodies writhed, moving frantically, two women, neither a lesbian, making love, or at least fucking each other.
When it was over and we were sitting on the floor where we had collapsed, limbs entwined, hugging and nuzzling one another, Maria spoke first.
“You’re an amazing woman.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You have the courage to love your son, because he needs you. How many women could do that?”
Laughing, I said, “I don’t think many would consider it courageous.”
“But it is,” Maria insisted.
“I came here today because I was jealous, because Gary wants you.”
The moment I said it I realized that it wasn’t true. Gary had only used the prospect of sex with Maria to make me jealous. He wanted me, just as I wanted him.
“I would love to be with him, if it was alright with you.”
I didn’t answer.
“But it doesn’t matter. I’d like to be with you again. I have a small apartment.”
I put my fingers on Maria’s lips.
“We’ll see,” I said.
“I’ll give you the address just in case. You don’t have to phone. Just come, anytime, day or night.”
I laughed. “Do my wicked ways turn you on?”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Maria laughed.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I avoided Gary until the next afternoon. I went for a long walk in the morning, making sure I wasn’t there when he returned from his supposed visit with Maria but I didn’t call him on it. I wasn’t sure if I should go through with it despite my desire and Maria’s urging. To take him inside me was a huge step, one neither of us could ever forget. Could I be sure that Gary really wanted to, that he wouldn’t regret it years later?
Gary was home, waiting for me when I got back from my walk. He was sitting in the kitchen, on a stool, the bulge in his shorts showing how much he missed me. I turned up the stairs instead of going into the kitchen. The stool scraped on the kitchen floor as Gary got up to follow me. I loosened my skirt and let it drop on the stairs, then started unbuttoning my blouse. Gary caught up in time to stand in the doorway as I tossed my blouse on the floor, quickly shrugged out of my bra, and slipped my panties over my ass. I crawled onto the bed and slipped my left hand through the loop of the left rope that Gary had already hung on the posts while awaiting my arrival. Turning my back to the headboard, I reached out and sipped my right hand through its loop, then settled in against the stacked pillows and waited for Gary’s cock.
“Hurry,” I said, spreading my legs, something I had never done before.
Gary pushed his shoulder off the door jamb and nonchalantly walked toward me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. What a change I had wrought in him. I wondered if it was all good.
Gary shucked his shirt and pushed his shorts to the ground. Naked, he stood, tall and straight, his cock hanging in front of him, already hard and ready. I flexed my toes.
“Hurry, I need you.”
“You need me?” he drawled, strutting around to the side of the bed.
I smiled. “Ah, payback time for all the teasing you endured?” I asked.
“I owe you,” Gary replied.
“Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“Absolutely. That doesn’t mean I don’t owe you.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “So make me pay.”
“I will,” he husked, his voice inadvertently revealing how much he wanted me.
I pulled my knees up and pressed my legs together, tilting them away from his so the underside of my thighs and ass would show.
“Make me,” I husked.
Gary got up on the bed and stood with his feet on either side of my thighs
“Make you what?” he demanded.
“Do things,” I replied. “Before my husband gets home.”
“I heard you last night. You were doing filthy things, weren’t you?”
I didn’t answer.
“Weren’t you,” Gary demanded, slapping my knees aside. I let them drop, slightly open so he could see how swollen and ready my bare pussy was.
Gary grabbed my head and roughly turned my face up toward him. This was unlike him. He had never been rough with me before.
“I don’t want you doing things for him.”
“I have to. He’s my husband.”
“Just go through the motions like you’re always done.”
The truth hurt. The sex life in my marriage had always been about going through the motions.
“Make me,” I taunted my son.
I wanted him to fuck me, to take me, like Maria suggested, but he had to do it; I couldn’t bring myself to offer it. He had to take me. I opened my legs wide and flexed my legs, shamelessly presenting my throbbing pussy.
“Make me,” I repeated.
I wanted him to know things were different now, that I was available, that he could have me, but I couldn’t just tell him. Gary bent his knees and rubbed his cock over my face but instead of trying to capture it as usual, I turned my head away. I didn’t want the same old, same old from him. Couldn’t he see I had changed my mind, that I wanted him to fuck me?
“Make me,” I hissed, thrashing my open legs.
Misinterpreting me, Gary grabbed my head and forced my mouth open before shoving his cock into my mouth. I suffered half a dozen gurgling thrusts before he pulled out and released my head but I stayed on course.
“Make me,” I said.
I pulled my knees up, tucked my feet between his legs and under his chest to hold them against the headboard above my head. My pussy was lewdly displayed, wet and swollen, as ready for it as it ever had been.
“Make me,” I said.
Gary knelt above my pelvis, moved closer until his cock brushed over the back of my thighs. One part of my mind screamed for me to stop him while the other readied myself for his first, forbidden penetration. But he didn’t enter me. Instead, he grazed his cock over my pussy, from one thigh to the other, then slipped up and pushed it deep between my legs until its tip touched my tits. He dragged it upward then, onto my face, across my chin and lips, over my nose, slid down to press against each closed eyelid.
“You want it, you know you do.”
I shook my head. “Make me.”
At least he had the right idea. Gary lowered himself until his cock landed on my pussy. He tapped my swollen lips and rubbed his cock sideways across them, then slid it lengthways along the full span of his long shaft.
“Take it,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” I cried, lowering my legs.
Gary grabbed my feet and pressed them back against the headboard. Straddling my thighs, he dipped his cock and rubbed it along my groove.
“You can do it.”
“No. You have to take it.”
Gary dropped onto the bed, his hands sliding from my ankles to the back of my knees. He dipped his head and his mouth covered my pussy. I moaned, then wailed when his tongue slipped into my crevice and gouged through the sloppy trough. I was so wet, so fucking wet.
“Gary, I can’t, I just can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
He stood and rubbed his cock through my slushy slit, then held the head above my opening, pressing down but not enough to dip inside.
“Take it,” he croaked.
“No! Make me,” I cried, jerking my pussy away.
Gary let my legs fall, hooked his arms under my knees, and stepped back, pulling me to the center of the bed. My arms stretched out and almost fell through the loops but my fingers closed over the rope to keep me captive. Gary tugged and I gripped the rope tighter. He pulled harder but couldn’t break my grip so he leaned over me and grabbed my left hand, then deliberately pried my fingers open and tossed the rope off to the side, out of my reach. He did the same with my right hand. I was free, physically.
Still holding me with his elbows crooked behind my knees, Gary lifted me up from the bed by my legs but my head and shoulders dangled onto the mattress. His cock slid between my thighs, rubbing over my pussy.
“Free yourself, Mom. Take it.”
“I can’t,” I cried. “You have to make me.”
“No. You know what you want, Admit it to yourself and take it.”
Gary didn’t speak again but he didn’t release me. He kept rubbing his cock back and forth over my pussy. It was a contest between my ability to abstain and his endurance. I knew he couldn’t hold me up forever, that he would tire, but his desire would build. I knew I wasn’t the only one tortured by the rubbing of his cock over my pussy. He would tire, succumb, and then take me. I met his teasing strokes with slick, nibbling rubs of my own.
Despite the struggle, neither of us allowed cock and pussy to part. We rubbed and teased each other mercilessly. Eventually, I realized that neither of us was capable of pulling apart but slowly, I sensed that Gary was gaining the upper hand. I was shocked. How could a young man in his prime outlast me, an older, mature, experienced woman?
Time. That was the answer. Once he got over the initial hump, all Gary had to do was stoke the embers, patiently awaiting the slow-growing desire built into every woman. The longer this continued, the weaker I became. I tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let me, rubbing his cock incessantly over my now super-sensitive pussy lips.
“Please Gary, don’t” I cried.
He didn’t reply but renewed his rubbing with greater vigor. I pulled away but he lifted me until my shoulders no longer touched the bed. My legs locked around his hips and Gary sawed his cock over my pussy, for all intent and purposes, fucking me, except he wasn’t inside. Gary’s elbows clutched my hips and waist and his hands reached under my shoulders, urging me closer. My legs tightened around his waist.
I was losing. The tip of his cock was nudging my entrance. I clutched his waist, trying to lift myself closer, to force his tip higher, onto my mound so I wouldn’t accidentally pull it in me , but he pulled away, keeping it on my slit which was so wide now, so wet, more a gully than a groove. I moaned.
He sawed through my slickness, then stopped, his head notched in my slit. Oh God, it felt so good, so fucking, fucking good. I let it sink in, just a little. So fucking good, so filling, even just this innocent dip.
He pulled back! No, don’t. I tightened my legs, lifting myself, following it, following his cock. There, yes, just that little dip, so slick and warm, pressing my lips open. I could do this, just this.
Gary pulled away again. I hooked my ankles firmly together and lunged upward, capturing him, felt his tip nudge into my slit, then start to slip away… no, no, I yanked myself upward, felt it shove in, thicken, so wide, stretching, then suddenly become narrower. He had popped inside me.
No, that wasn’t true. I had pulled him inside.
“Yeah, Mom. Take it all the way.”
“Oh God, Gary. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“Take it,” he hissed.
I constricted my calf muscles again and felt his blunt cock force my walls open a few more inches as he filled me.
“Ohhhhh Gawwwddd,” I cried, straining my hips upward, pulling his thing into me, deep, really deep. I lunged and captured him fully, mashing my soaking lips onto his pubic hair.
“Fuck me,” I cried, cashing in, admitting defeat, glorious defeat.
Gary dropped my hands and I flopped back, slipping down his cock until his hands grasped my hips. Then he was pulling me up, back onto his cock, plugging me, filling me up to my tonsils.
“Yeah, oh yeah!” he cried.
“Yeah,” I yelled back.
Gary fell to his knees and pushed my legs way back, holding me by the ankles, lifting my ass completely off the bed to fully expose me. Then my son crouched over the back of my thighs and started hammering his cock inside me, noisily slapping the back of my thighs. My God, he was so hard.
“Fuck me!” I moaned, before losing all capability of speech. After that, all I could do was grunt my joy and appreciation.
Gary went wild. It looked like he was trying to say something but the sounds coming out of his mouth were unintelligible. I knew then that he had planned this for some time. It must have been a huge struggle to wait until I was ready rather than following his youthful urge to take me but the end justified the means. Gary was right, I was free. I had taken my son because I wanted him, not for a good cause, not because I was martyring myself, but because he made me so hot and I wanted to fuck his brains out. I was now free to fuck him anytime I wanted, or anytime he wanted me, without guilt or shame.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Gary and I fucked every afternoon after that. I discovered that I liked the security blanket that the ropes provided and Gary obliged me. He tightened them at my request so I couldn’t slip my hands out. I liked the feeling of being trapped, held against my will and forced to do things—though I really wasn’t. I don’t know why I liked it so much but didn’t waste much time wondering about it. It felt good and that was all I needed to know.
The day everything changed, I was facing the headboard, blindfolded and muzzled by the mask I had devised of stretchy material with a grip on the back so Gary could hold my face up from the bed without hurting my hair. My arms were stretched behind me and my wrists securely tied. The soft rope looping around my neck was yoked to my knees, tucking them up tightly to my chest and forcing my ass up high. Two more lengths of soft rope started at the rope around my wrists and branched off to hold my ankles up. I felt helpless yet strangely, and blissfully, in control because my feigned plight seduced Gary into forcing huge lunges upon me from behind. We had done this before, working up from gentler scenarios, and we both loved it. It was a prelude to something else I had discovered, or more accurately, Gary had shown me that I liked: anal sex.
About a week or so after we had first fucked, and Gary had started tying me up more securely, he began playing with my asshole. First, he worked me up until I was so horny I would die just to get his cock inside me for even a minute, then he put his lubed finger into my little pucker. Oh, I didn’t like it and let my feelings be known but Gary persisted. Soon, I grew used to his finger’s presence, and then his thumb, and after a lot more teasing of my quivering pussy lips, a second finger.
Gary rubbed his shaft along my pussy and nudged it in a bit several times but he wouldn’t shove it all the way in. When he finally forced it into my ass, I welcomed it. It took some getting used to, let me tell you, but by the time his cock was fully inside my ass, I was grooving on it.
The next day, Gary pounded me from behind for several minutes before suddenly pulling out. I wiggled my ass in the air until the first teasing probe both relieved my angst and stoked my fires to new heights. Fifteen minutes of teasing circles around my pucker and sudden plunges inside ensued. When I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer, Gary blessed my ass with his stiff cock. I was so hot it must have felt like a furnace.
So, getting back to that fateful day a week later, as I was saying, Gary had just pounded me from behind, me all tied up, and had barely started stroking my butt, when everything changed.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I heard Gary cry out as he was yanked roughly off me and turned my head just in time to hear the sound of a fist crack followed by a body crashing into the wall behind me so hard the bedside lamp fell off the table. Several more fist cracks followed.
“You little bastard!”
“No, John, don’t,” I yelled but the mask muffled my cry.
Bang, bang, crash.
“John… John, oh my God, Gary,” I whimpered, rubbing my face in the pillow, first trying to rub the mask up over my chin so John could hear me and, after that failed, trying to dislodge it from the top so I could at least plead for Gary with my eyes. But I couldn’t get the mask off and despite rolling off the bed and crashing into John’s feet, the beating continued.
When John finally untied me and removed the mask, Gary was lying in a fetal position beside the bed.
Our world had ended.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Gary’s stay at the hospital was short—his injuries were slight and mostly surperficial—but his return home was equally brief. He hid in his room and wouldn’t come out, not even to eat. It was worse that when I’d started. Eventually, he returned to the institution.
Getting the charges initially laid against John was another ordeal—we obviously couldn’t explain what had happened—but eventually we got past that too. All that remained was for us to deal with the remorse and sense of failure. Depression awaited. John and I stopped having sex. He was too guilty and I couldn’t bring myself to be with him. Neither of us was capable of dealing with Gary’s situation though I did broach the topic with John one evening without success. He flat out didn’t want to talk about it so that’s what we did, lived our lives as if we didn’t have a son.
I didn’t go out much anymore but one day I was sitting in the food court of a mall—not the one I usually patronized because I couldn’t face meeting anyone I knew—when I encountered Sandra’s son, Jeff. He was such a sweet boy and the brief conversation I had with him turned my life around.
Hope is an amazing thing. Hope leads to plans, and plans lead to action, and actions can succeed as well as fail. Jeff didn’t stick around to see it but when I left that mall, I was a different woman from the one that walked in. There was a firmness to my step, borne of purpose and determination. I had done the impossible once, I could do it again.
The plan formed in my mind on the drive home. I went straight upstairs and then up into the attic. There, I opened all the boxes and trunks, made my selections, and spent the rest of the day doing laundry and taking things to the dry cleaners. Several days later, I had the wardrobe necessary to execute the first part of my new plan, convincing my reluctant husband to become a willing if not fully functional member of the team. Then, we could tackle Gary again.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I was in the kitchen in when John came in. As usual now, he didn’t come in to see me or call out to say hello, he simply sat down and turned the TV onto the evening news. I smiled. Things were going to be different now and, though I was nervous about this first encounter, I was also confident of success. After all, Vanessa did have my mother-in-law’s personality but I looked like her, especially now that I was at the age she likely had her greatest influence on John. I had examined John’s family pictures and confirmed this to be true. I also knew a lot about my mother-in-law and the strange relationship she had with her son, one I suspected was far more complicated than I previously thought.
I stirred the pot, relishing the delicious feeling of female power that welled up inside me and readied myself for the challenge ahead of me. I wasn’t afraid, I was looking forward to it. My earlier triumph with Gary had taught me to enjoy the battle while it lasted. I now understood why men repressed their wartime experiences yet thrived on their memory, the most intense moments of their lives. I felt alive!
I turned the pots on simmer and poured John a glass of wine, refilling my own as well. Holding both glasses, I walked seductively toward the living room, loving the snug feel of the long, grey tweed skirt around my hips and legs and how tight it felt across my buttocks. Its high waist and the wide black belt accented the narrowness of my waist and tugged the fluffy white blouse down tightly over my breasts, nicely pushed up with the special bra I had also found among John’s mother’s things. She had a surprising amount of special underwear for such an austere woman.
I rounded the corner and walked directly to John’s chair.
“Here you are, dear,” I said, handing him a glass of wine. “Did you have a hard day?”
Instead of waiting for an answer, I turned to look at the TV, standing in front of John’s chair but to one side so I wouldn’t block his view if he decided to keep watching the news. However, by the way his eyes flickered toward my bottom as I turned, I was confident I would win over the TV. I held my pose for a moment, then let my left knee bend forward, forcing my right buttock up to press tightly against the skirt, accenting my bottom. The rustle of my nylons scraping thigh on thigh sent a shiver up my spine and I hoped it had the same effect on my husband.
“That’s a nice outfit, Joan. Were you shopping today?”
“No.” I didn’t turn to look at John. “I’m so bored of shopping. I can never find exactly what I want. Your mother always dressed so nicely&mash;I almost choked on those words—so I went up to the attic to look at her stuff for ideas and found this outfit. I hope you don’t mind, it fits me well, don’t you think?”
I twisted my hips to emphasize the fit over my butt which I knew had a tendency to stick out a bit.
“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.”
“But, does it fit me nicely?”
“Yes, it fits you perfectly.”
Holding my wine glass out to the side, ostensibly so it wouldn’t spill but really to accentuate my figure,
I sauntered back to the kitchen.
Later, when we had finished dinner and just started eating the sumptuous apple pie I had bought at Andres but claimed to have made, I set the stage for the next few weeks.
“John, do you mind if I wear some of your mother’s other things? I just love this outfit.”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind.”
That night, John waited for me in bed while I undid my fifties-style hairdo and appeared to remove my makeup but in reality simply adjusted it to fit a more intimate setting. I was wearing one of his mother’s more demure nightgowns, far less racy than some of the stuff I had found. John was perky when I finally slipped under the covers, as he should have been after the long meal I had made of removing his mother’s clothes in front of him, but I was cool. I wasn’t, however, as off-putting as I had been the past few months. I wanted to encourage him, but not much, yet.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
For the next two weeks, I wore John’s mother’s clothes. During the day, I repaired some outfits and took others that were beyond my ability to a seamstress. From her, I got ideas for clothes of a similar design and commissioned several new outfits, for a play I was involved in, I explained. I really liked the feel of these old style clothes. They covered so much yet I felt sexier in them.
I gradually moved John closer and closer to more intimate interactions but did not renew any sexual activity in bed. I could tell John was getting frustrated which was perfect, just according to my plan. When I asked John to move into the spare room because I needed time to myself, he balked, but wasn’t overly upset. After all, his most intimate interactions with me occurred outside the bedroom.
Using pictures to guide me, I had re-decorated the spare room to be as close as could be managed to John’s bedroom at home when he was young. Those pictures had shown how fond John was of his mother. There were pictures of his mother on the wall and on the table beside his bed which was strange, I thought, for a teenage boy. I put similar pictures up but they were of me, dressed in his mother’s clothes, which I had a photographer come to the house to do. I also had other pictures taken of me wearing some of her racier underwear. It excited me to wear them and it showed in the pictures, something the photographer picked up on because he propositioned me. As I said before, hope is a funny thing. I’m sure it’s why he offered me such a good price on the pictures, even though I turned him down.
It was after a long dinner at which I wore an elegant gown that I moved John into the next stage. He followed me into the living room, no doubt staring at my ass moving freely under the fabulous dress as I purposely swayed slowly ahead of him, but I stopped him short.
“John, would you be a dear and let me enjoy my wine in peace? I’d like to watch a romantic movie and that’s one of those things a woman likes to do alone.”
Before he could answer, I moved into the living room and sat in his chair, leaning back and crossing my legs, forcing the split, black gown to expose my legs far up my thigh.
“You don’t mind, do you, sweetie?”
I could see that he did but he shook his head and turned to go upstairs, hanging his head and shuffling like a spoiled little kid who, having been caught being naughty, had just been sent to his room.
‘Sweetie’, that’s what John’s mother called him. That, and ‘Johnny’. I had painted a juvenile sign on the door of his new room, ‘Johnny’s Cave’, something else I had discovered in an old picture in one of the trunks.
I turned on the TV, put any old movie on, and sipped my wine, biding my time for the next movement. After forty minutes or so, I drained my second glass and started up the stairs.
Let the show begin.
I took a deep breath, knocked on Johnny’s door, then quickly opened it before he even had a chance to answer.
“Johnny, how many times have I told you not to do that!”
John was shocked not only by my abrupt entry but also by my use of a name he probably hadn’t heard for many years. The trauma was so complete it immobilized him and he was caught sitting up in bed with the covers pushed down almost to his knees and his shorts dragged down below his balls so he could hold his cock, which was fully erect in his hand, with one hand while the other held a picture of his mother in the other—actually me in her racy underclothes. I had placed those photos in the top drawer where his socks were knowing he would find them.
I walked quickly to the bed and snatched the picture from John’s hand.
“John Edward Robinson, I know you won’t go blind but you shouldn’t be doing that.”
I stared at the picture, then tossed it onto the bed, upright and facing John so he could still see it.
“Not by yourself, anyway. It’s a bad habit to get into,” I said, my voice softening. I sat down on the bed, hitching the elegant dress high enough that it opened sufficiently to display a healthy expanse of bare thigh. “I’ve told you before.”
I grasped John’s wrist and tugged his hand off his cock. It was amazing that it remained hard, sticking up proudly though I knew John must be cringing inside. Cringing, and wondering what the hell I was up to. I had surmised that such a surprise may well have happened to John when he was young. I hoped I was right because so much depended on how he reacted and the closer this was to an actual memory the better. I replaced John’s hand with my own.
“Johnny, Johnny, what am I to do with you?” I said, squeezing my hand up and down his shaft. I looked behind me at the open door. “It’s a good thing your father went to bed so long ago. He’s probably sleeping.”
I hoped that rang true because if it did the delicious sense of danger might seduce my husband into going along with this fantasy and maybe even convince him to immerse himself within it. After a few strokes, John relaxed. He was over the initial shock and was probably beginning to feel good, even better than before I crashed through the door. His eyes, however, were still wide open.
“There, there. That’s better, isn’t it,” I cooed. “That’s it, just relax.” I scooted back and pulled John lower in the bed by his cock, pressing on his chest with my free hand. “Close your eyes and just relax.”
John closed his eyes just as my free hand slid down his chest to close around his balls. They fluttered open but closed again as I tickled his nuts and stroked his cock with long, firm strokes.
“Shhhhhh. Just relax.”
It was only a minute later that John starting humping his hips off the bed, thrusting through my tight grip. He started moaning and I could only wonder what movie was playing in his mind. Was it me jacking his cock or his mother? Did he picture himself bending her over the edge of the bed, or me? I hoped it was her.
His body jerked on the bed and he gasped for breath to fuel the exertion. He came, erupting in a steady flow that oozed from his cock for half a minute.
“You disgusting little brat,” I chastized him in my best imitation of his mother’s commanding, superior voice. “How many times have I told you to warn me? I wiped my hand on his blanket and stood up, smoothing the dress down over my thighs. “Clean yourself up and wash your own blankets. I’m not cleaning up your filth, do you understand?”
John opened his eyes and nodded. He looked petrified.
I turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
So far, so good.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
I didn’t knock the next night but John was waiting for me. He might not have been sure of himself as he looked because the covers were pulled up to his waist, hiding his private parts which the lump in his lap indicated he had been touching. I was wearing a robe, open to display the suggestive nightgown underneath. Though it wasn’t low cut, there was a peek hole beneath the ribbon tying it under my neck that provided a window onto my cleavage, and my breasts were loose underneath. The nightgown was long but not full length, falling to only a few inches below my knees but when I sat down the hem would rise above them. I had practised to be sure it did.
I partially closed the door and walked to the bed, ‘accidently’ brushing my robe away from my breasts as I hitched the nightgown up my legs before sitting down. I spoke in a hushed voice.
“Your father’s barely asleep but I couldn’t wait any longer.” I turned around and looked at the door to heighten the illusory suspense.
John was smiling with anticipation when I turned back to look at him, his eyes on the bodice of the demure nightgown. I held my elbows in close to my sides and arched my back slightly to buff up the target of his gaze. I chatted with him about things I knew he had done with his parents as if it had just happened rather than so many years ago. John seemed to more than accept it, he seemed very pleased and eager to hear more, leading me in directions I hadn’t thought of and supplying the necessary details to make it more real. Things were going so well I almost forgot what I was here to do.
As nonchalantly as I could, I leaned toward the bedside table and opened its narrow drawer. John watched me but didn’t stop talking. I retrieved what I had placed there earlier in the day. As John continued his remonition, I casually squirted the thick lubricant in my palm and began working it into my hands, my fingers writhing around one another. John was mesmerized but continued talking. Finally, I stopped and drew my hands apart and held my arms in front of him, palms turned upward.
“Well,” I said. “Shall we get started?”
John nodded but didn’t do anything, obviously not knowing what was expected of him.
I looked down at his lap and nodded. His gaze followed mine, then he looked up at me for a confirming nod, and pushed the covers down, revealing a bare erection unhindered by either pajamas or underwear.
“Johnny, I’ve told you, it’s disgusting to be naked in bed. You’ll have to change your sheets tomorrow and you can wash them yourself.”
His response thrilled me. The fact that he didn’t just say ‘sorry’ told me he was really buying into this fantasy and it rolled so easily off his lips that my confidence in my portrayal of his mother surged.
“It’s all right. Come on, push them down all the way. Let’s get this over with.”
John pushed the covers down to mid-thigh, allowing his stimulated rod to spring up in eager expectation.
“Johnny, you haven’t been touching it yourself, have you?” I said in an admonishing tone.
“No Mother, I haven’t, honest,” he lied.
“Well, then,” I muttered, and closed my slick fingers around his shaft.
“Ohhhh Goddd,” John cried.
“Quiet, or you’ll wake your father,” I snapped.
“Alright, just let me know if the light comes on in the hallway.”
John looked past me to the dark hallway beyond his door. I had been careful to turn all the lights off. For the first time, the sound of distant snoring wafted into the room. Perfect, I thought, proud of my timing. You can find anything on the web, including soundtracks of snoring.
John’s chest heaved in reaction to the exquisite sensations my lubricated fingers were imparting to his now slick cock. As my hand rose up to his tip I squeezed it over the head and slowly twisted. On the descent, I paused halfway down to allow my trailing thumb to brush sideways across the underside as my other hand massaged his balls. Despite my instructions to watch for the light, John closed his eyes. His whole body trembled under my ministrations. The only sound in the house was the faint recording of snoring emanating from my bedroom and the wet, gooey sound of my hand squeezing and stroking his cock.
John opened his eyes and raised his head.
“Mother, I’m going to… you said I should warn you.”
“Oh dear. I forgot to bring a towel. Do you have a towel?” My hand didn’t stop moving up and down his slick shaft.
John looked around, then reached across to the other side of the bed and retrieved his shirt.
“You’re not going to ruin your shirt, for goodness sakes. This will have to do.”
I leaned over John’s cock and opened my mouth.
Though I couldn’t see John’s face, I could sense his shock. I continued pulling on his slick cock, keeping it steadily aimed at my open, hovering mouth. To help him along, I breathed over his tip and jacked him faster, only going halfway down his shaft before returning to squeeze his head. John’s hips began humping up and down, bringing the tip of his cock dangerously close to my mouth.
The first squirt surprised me even though I was expecting it. John cried out and bucked his hips, thrusting his cock fully inside my wet, waiting mouth. He released a sound that was more of a wail than a grunt, dropping his ass to the bed for the briefest sojourn before ramming it back into my mouth. His body convulsed with each explosive squirt, again and again and again. Finally, he was spent and collapsed into the mattress, exhausted. I lifted my head, expecting him to have closed his eyes again but he was watching me with glazed eyes. I suspect he wanted to see if I had managed to take it all, hoping to see some of his seed marking my face. I was sorry to disappoint him. I made a note to think of that next time. Or maybe he was trying to see if his mother had returned to this earth.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day I wore John’s mother’s sexiest outfits and that night John was eagerly awaiting my arrival. As soon as I entered his room, he put his book down and pushed the covers down to his knees, exposing his erect cock.
“You weren’t touching it by yourself, were you Johnny?”
The snoring recording started up, right on time. I reached over to open the drawer but saw the lubricant already lying on top of the bedside dresser. I smiled.
“I see we have an eager beaver tonight.”
John nodded. His eyes lit up when I peeled my robe back and let it fall from my shoulders, revealing a very naughty nightgown that barely contained my breasts. I let him take his fill for a moment, then reached for the lubricant but before squirting it onto my palm, I paused.
“Would you like to do this tonight?”
John looked confused. Was I asking him to masturbate?
“Change places with me,” I said, getting up. “Come on, get out of bed.”
John did as he was told and I took his place, propping another pillow behind my back.
“Come on, get on,” I said, patting my hands to the outside of my thighs.
John clambered over me. When he was in place, I said, “Well?”
John didn’t know what to do but before he could speak, I leaned upward and said, “Push my nightgown back, Johnny. There’s a good boy.”
John tentatively put his hands on my shoulders but didn’t do anything until I nodded permission. He slipped the nightgown down my arms and, when I smiled further approval, he dragged it completely off my breasts and pulled it over my hands. I picked up the lubricant and squirted a dollar-sized puddle onto each breast, just above my nipples, then handed it to him.
“Put some on yourself.”
I closed my eyes but kept them open a slit so I could see him. John was unsure for a few seconds and then squirted some lubricant onto the tip of his cock, put some more into his right palm, then rubbed it up and down his shaft. After it was spread all over his cock, he stared at my breasts, then tentatively reached out to touch the puddle above my left nipple. I nodded silent approval and visibly relaxed into the pillows to demonstrate my assent. John began spreading the lubricant over my tits.
John played with my breasts for so long I had to grab his cock and pull it between them before he got the idea but half a dozen strokes later, he leaned over me and began rubbing his cock between my tits in long, slow thrusts. I squeezed my breasts together and John began fucking them in earnest. I waited until his breathing was quite ragged before tipping my head up to blow on his cock. He loved it and leaned harder into to me, trying to thrust his cock closer to my mouth. After teasing him for a while by pulling my mouth away, I tipped my head forward to reward him, taking the head into my mouth on every stroke.
I doubt he managed another ten thrusts before he started coming. The way he gasped for air, I don’t think he would have survived if he hadn’t come. Some of his spend was deposited in my mouth but most of it missed, some of it going past my head entirely. However, enough landed on my face to make him groan with pleasure and he leaned over my nose to squeeze the last drops from his cock. I kept my eyes ‘closed’ the entire time so he wouldn’t be scared to do what he really wanted. After a moment, I spoke.
“Go to the bathroom and get a warm washcloth.”
John started climbing off me.
“Warm, mind you.”
He was walking to the door.
“And don’t wake your father.”
“No Mother,” he whispered.
John crept back into room. I don’t think he was trying to not wake his ‘father’, I think he wanted to look at me for a few moments before I knew he was there. I pretended to be unaware of his presence so he could survey the damage he had done. Never in my married life had I ever let John do something like this and I was positive that if he thought it was ‘me’ he wouldn’t have done it.
“Johnny?” I called, getting tired of the sticky mess on my face.
I heard him step quietly backward. “Right here, Mother,” he answered, as if just coming in the door.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
The next day, at breakfast, I launched my campaign in earnest.
“Johnny,” I began. I had been wearing John’s mother’s clothes and calling him Johnny for weeks now and almost thought of him as my son. Given the intensity of our role playing, I’m sure he thought of me as his mother and definitely acted like it as soon as he walked in the door after work. I wondered how he managed to be himself during the day and worried that I might be contributing to the development of a fractured personality but it was necessary.
“John,” I started again. “We’re going to have a guest for a while.”
“Who?” John asked.
I worried that would yank John out of his role as my son but I had decided the best approach was to deal with the issue head on. John wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t know we were only playing a game so he could realize his fantasies. I relied on the strength of his mind and the weakness of his soul to handle this new twist.
“But we’re going to call him Allen and pretend he’s not our son.”
“Okay,” John’s tone was tentative and he looked unsure.
“You’ll have to sleep with me for a while.”
John looked less worried but still somewhat unsure.
“We can continue with…, well, with what we’ve been doing, but only in my room. Is that clear?”
“You understand? This is very important.”
“That’s good.” I held out my arms. “Now come and give your Mother a hug.”
I turned in my seat to face my husband as he came around the table. He let his hands rest on my shoulders as mine curled around his waist to embrace him. Releasing him a moment later, I slipped my hands around to his front and unzipped his pants. He was already getting hard. I opened my mouth and he pushed it in. Johnny’s hands clasped my head and he began thrusting in and out.
I wondered if I was up to this. Could I balance the demands of my two men? Could I handle that much sex? John’s legs weakened and he sagged against me, moaning his pleasure. Yes, I thought, I can, I definitely can.
Later that day, after my fateful phone call to the institution, I wondered about my husband’s relationship with his mother. How far had they really gone? I was convinced that my mother-in-law had in fact paraded in front of John in sexy underclothes but had she actually masturbated him and sucked his cock? I couldn’t tell from John’s reaction if we were replaying old memories or simply acting out fantasies that didn’t actually happen but which he had always wanted to.
The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced John and I were replaying things that had really happened. I needed to offer him the prospect of something that hadn’t happened that he had wanted to in order to keep him motivated throughout the ordeal ahead, something I could hold out for ‘good’ behavior.
That night, when John came home, there was a bottle on the counter that he couldn’t take his eyes off all through dinner despite the competing draw of my hair, freshly dyed the color of his mother’s. The fact that I never acknowledged his distraction probably drew his attention to it all the more. While we were eating our dessert, I reminded John of the need to sleep in my bedroom, starting tonight, but kept the fantasy alive by explaining that while his father was away on his trip I was afraid to sleep alone. John’s response surprised me.
“Yes, I understand, Joan. I know what’s truly important. We both love and miss our son but you need him in a special way and you know now how well I understand that.”
“Yes John, I do.” John’s words also made me come face to face with the fact that my behavior wasn’t altogether altruistic.
“So, let’s get on with it and get our son back.”
I noticed that John had barely touched his dessert whereas I had finished mine. I stood up.
“I’m going to go to bed early.”
“I’ll join you,” John said, getting up. “I’d like to make love to the woman I love tonight, my wife.”
I motioned for John to sit down. Don’t get me wrong, I loved hearing that from my husband. What woman wouldn’t? But I had something else in mind for tonight, the first taste of that added incentive to keep my husband focused on our ultimate goal, a pull far beyond words of commitment.
“Finish your dessert first, Johnny,” I commanded in the most authoritative voice I could muster.
John plunked down, surprised by the sudden change in my voice and personality. Mimicking his mother’s voice, something I could do perfectly, I added, “There’s something special I want you to do for me tonight, Johnny. When you do come up, in a few minutes, can you bring that with you?”
I gave no indication of what I meant by that but John knew.
“Bring what?” he asked anyway.
“That,” I snapped, and turned to walk away without glancing at the bottle of Mazola. I swayed my hips in an exaggerated fashion so my ass would capture his attention.
“Yes Mother,” John croaked as I left the dining room and started up the stairs, ass swaying outrageously.
I didn’t know John could finish a large piece of apple pie so quickly. Maybe he could when he was a kid and when he was ‘Johnny’ it wasn’t a big deal to kill off a pie. Anyway, I had barely got changed into one of his mother’s long nightgowns and stretched out on the bed with it pulled up onto my back and over my head, ass bare and inviting, when Johnny arrived.
I doubt Johnny dwelled on the new furnishings in the room but I’m sure he noticed them, adding to the elation of the moment. While he was at work, I had scoured the second hand and antique stores and Craigslist for a bedroom set and a sofa and chair to put in my room. The weren’t perfect but, once re-ulphostered and reconditioned, they were a close match to the furniture in John’s childhood pictures. I bet that even to his mind, and most assuredly to his hard cock, the bare ass on the bed looked just like his mother’s, the one that had beckoned to him for years but he had been unable to attain. Until now.
I tugged the hem of the nightgown above my shoulders, covering my head but leaving enough dyed hair to show for effect. I wiggled my ass.
“Hurry,” I whispered.
The whisper of clothes gave way to a rip, and stumble, and several gasps for breath before the mattress gave way to the weight of John’s knees. I almost laughed out loud. I wasn’t so much amused as unable to contain the rush of power that surged through me, to so easily render this competent man helpless in service of my whims. Yet, I braced myself, for I couldn’t predict whether his approach would be tentative or savage.
Long seconds passed. I heard the twist of a cap being removed from a bottle. I waited for the rasp of hands rubbing together but winced instead as the cold liquid—I had kept it in the fridge until John came home—spashed in several drips on my right cheek, skipped over to my left, and then dribbled along my crack from top to bottom.
Johnny released a long sigh which in words would have said, “Awesome!”
Hands curved around my cheeks, spreading the oily mess all over my ass. They swirled and pressed, enfolded and crushed, and caressed, never harsh, always devoted. A coveted treasure was being honored and prepared for consumption, savored, because the first taste is always the best. I understood now how powerful was John’s need for his mother and, perhaps for the first time, how much Gary needed me. I was humbled.
The glow began spreading faintly through my pelvis even before the first rub of Johnny’s thumbs through my crack. It intensified with the first probe of his right hand thumb which so easily slipped inside. Mazola, the new wonder food.
I could have said I moaned to heighten Johhny’s desire but it would be a lie; I liked what he was doing; I needed it.
He had paused after the first probe to drip more Mazola on my ass. I knew Mazola was the wrong thing to use but it fit the time period and just once shouldn’t hurt; at least, so I reasoned. Now, the slippery, viscous feel of it excited me so much I couldn’t help but whimper my appreciation. John was so good at this. How could it be his first time?
Jesus. He was sliding first one, and then the other, thumb into my ass, twisting on exit. Squeezing my cheeks, probing, reaming, pushing my ass forward, forcing me to lift my hips off the bed, presenting myself, lewd, desparate and wanton. I want it!
Oh my God! Two thumbs at once, fully inserted, wiggling, spreading as they withdrew, fingers bunching my cheeks, squeezing gently, then more urgently. Johnny was gasping and moaning. I wasn’t sure it he couldn’t help it or if he was trying to wind me up even more. Whatever, it worked. I pushed my ass up higher, silently begging to take his cock. I moaned.
“Now,” I croaked.
I felt his knees drawing closer. He was coming. He was going to take me, going to take his mother.
How could it feel bigger than his two thumbs? I sucked in my breath. He was smaller than Gary but still filled me. Please, be careful. He was. Pressure, pressure. Oh God, such wonderful pressure. No, don’t stop, keep pushing. That’s it. He understood, he was just shifting his legs for a better angle. Ahhh, Gawd, yes.
He was in. It wasn’t a sound, just a feeling. The head was in. Rubbing, scraping his shaft through the ring, so long but I knew he was shorter than Gary.
“Oh Johnny, that’s so good, so nice,” I moaned.
His legs were pushing against my ass. He was all the way in. He paused, then began swirling around, gently, fully plugged in, his cock reaming my hole. The tide of pleasure spilled out of my pelvis, cascaded through my chest, filling my tits and running into my head. I drooled onto the pillow.
“Fuck it,” I gasped.
Johhny kept swirling his cock and reaming my hole, no slower and no faster. His cock didn’t withdraw. He kept his firmly plugged into my ass despite my plea.
“Fuck it,” I moaned.
Still no compliance. No withdrawal and forward thrust. This was his dream; it was going to go his way.
I don’t know how much later—I measured the passage of time in waves of pleasure emanating from my anal cavity—but finally Johnny began fucking my ass properly, withdrawing and pushing forward, puling out and shoving in, with long, steady thrusts, never hard, always teasing.
Just fuck it, fuck it hard. I can take it, I want it.
His hands were on my hips, as if I would pull away. How funny. I pushed my ass back to meet him every time.
Harder now, coming faster. Oh Lord, yes. Keep it coming. Slapping noises. Was he slapping my ass? No, it was just the sweaty sound of our bodies colliding.
I arched my back to turn my ass up for a perfect fit but upon full entry Johnny wrenched his cock in a different direction every time. I couldn’t predict it the direction of shear but no matter which way it effectively widened my hole, making his cock feel huge. Every twisting lunge carried the tip of his love stick to a different spot. Anticipation, and the inability to determine where the tingling touch would land, drove me wild. Every thrust was accompanied by a thrilling stretch as the root of his shaft plugged my forbidden entrance.
My climax exploded over me, washing through my body in waves as my clenching butt drained his cock is an erratic series of pulsing clutches. It was several minutes before Johnny was able to extract his softened penis. He got up not long after and much later, I made my own trip to the shower.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -
Afterward, I dried myself and collapsed in bed beside John without bothering to put on a fresh nightgown. I awoke to the most wonderful feeling, the warm feel of lip nibbling my pussy. I can’t say how long I had enjoyed my husband’s mouth before waking but shortly thereafter his tongue slipped inside me and the ecstasy it imparted lasted for a long time. When my head cleared after a truly earth-shattering orgasm, John was lying beside me, his arm across my breasts and his eyes looking into mine.
“I love you, Joan.”
“I know you do, John,” I answered, seeing the truth of it as his eyes read mine. “Today I’m bringing our son home.”
“I can hardly wait,” John said, just before he kissed me.
I smiled as I picked a pubic hair from the corner of John’s mouth. One kiss turned into another, casually delivered and leisurely appreciated. My hand strayed down to my husband’s hard cock. I enjoyed stroking it gently, encircled within the oval of my loosely held fingers. A sudden urge prompted me to slide my thigh over his and a moment later my body followed, straddling him briefly before finding and inserting his cock.
Summary: A young lesbian soccer coach seduces a rich upper class mother.
NOTE: A special thank you goes to Steve B for his editing suggestions and Estragon for his exhaustive copy editing work.
Layla loved summer: the hot sun, the sandy beaches and the soccer season.
Layla was 21 years old and had just finished her second year of college on a soccer scholarship.
To pad her resume and because she loved soccer, Layla had volunteered to coach one of the girl’s advanced training camps.
Layla was a jock in every sense of the word. She was tall, slim, small breasted, 34b, and had long tanned legs. Her blonde hair was always in a ponytail and her eyes were a hypnotic aqua blue.
She was also a lesbian and had known and accepted her sexuality since she was a teenager. Although she looked sweet and innocent, her looks were incredibly deceiving. If ever the old saying ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ was true, Layla would be the perfect example. Behind that sweet facade was a domineering seductress. This should not be a surprise. She was an extremely aggressive player on the soccer field; her behaviour in her personal life was no different. She was captain of her varsity soccer team and thus always in charge; not surprisingly, she also had to be in charge of her love life.
In truth, she got most aroused not by being physically pleased, but instead by having her white lovers, her sexual playthings, submit unconditionally to her. The problem she had was that all her submissive playthings were young, inexperienced and dumb. They were no challenge and thus after the initial thrill of having some uppity chick pledge allegiance to her perfect body, little thrill came from having them submit. Oh sure it was fun and diabolical to crush some stuck up sorority bitch and make her beg to lick her ass or seduce and awaken the sexual beast of some shy, reserved southern belle, but the thrill faded fast when they actually submitted and at best were adequate lovers. Then fate intervened….
Clara Walsh had lost her husband two years ago in a car accident and was raising her teenage daughter Maddie by herself. Clara had not even considered another man and her only sexual fulfillment was her six inch dildo, the same one she had pleasured herself with back in college. She had no idea of the technological advances in the erotic toy industry.
Clara received a large sum of money from her husband’s life insurance, and spent her days writing her novel. She also made sure to spend as much time as she could with her 18 year old daughter, who would be going to college in the fall in New York, thousands of miles away from her.
Clara had raven black hair and green-blue eyes, that seemed to change based on her mood. She was short, at 5’2, and had large, only slightly sagging 40d breasts.
Maddie, her shy daughter, had joined the soccer team at the urgent and constant harassing encouragement of her gym teacher who said she had raw untapped potential. Much to Maddie’s astonishment, she loved playing soccer. No one was judging her flat chest, no one knew she used to be fat, had braces and acne and no one knew about her dad’s death. She got a fresh start; a chance to create a new persona….
Mrs. Sammantha Jones was one of the most powerful women in the city. Her husband was CEO of a major bank, and she was the trophy wife. She was head of the PTA of her daughter’s school, head of the parent/grad committee (that just happened) and was chair of her local co-op home association. She spent hours maintaining her perfect body, at all costs. She worked out daily and had very expensive, but impressive, implants. Although in her mid-forties, she looked and dressed much younger. When she and her 18-year-old daughter, Tiffany, were together, most assumed they were siblings. Sammantha dressed as a rich trophy wife should: dresses, heels, stockings, jewellery, all the accoutrements. She always looked perfect and always attempted to be the center of attention.
As usually is the case, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Tiffany had the same red hair; the same sweet seductive green eyes; and the same bright smile and Angelina Jolie lips. Tiffany also had the same ‘I am better than you’ attitude and the same diva complex. Tiffany tried out for soccer for one reason and one reason only: boys. At her high school, soccer was second in popularity to cheerleading. So, of course, Tiffany was captain of her cheerleading squad and goalie of her soccer team. She was incredibly flexible and quick, but, playing goalie she didn’t have to do all that exhausting running. Much even to her surprise, she not only liked it, but was damn good. The goalie was the heart of the team and thus so was Tiffany.
The first week of camp was all work and no play. Actually, the balls didn’t even come out till Wednesday. It was simply a gruelling week of intense physical tests. Layla believed she knew who the real soccer players were based on the first week. True players don’t bitch; they just work their asses off. After day two, Layla had already concluded that the girl with the most potential was Maddie. She worked her ass off and never let down for a second. Such dedication greatly impressed Layla and the naughty side of Layla wondered if Maddie would make a good little sub.
On the contrary, after about twenty minutes of the first day, Layla also knew who the biggest pain in the ass was going to be. Tiffany sauntered onto the field like it was a runway and complained instantly about Layla’s ‘endurance is key to victory’ philosophy. She even went so far as to suggest that she should get different treatment because she was a goalie. If Layla thought Tiffany was bad, her mother was even worse. As she repeated on numerous occasions, she had paid very good money for her daughter to get the best soccer camp and hadn’t paid all this good money to watch her daughter run. Layla played nice to her face, but was already considering her as a great MILF to seduce and control. She was bossy, bitchy and stuck-up, the type who, Layla had learned, desperately needed to be broken. Layla had learned early in her sexual prowls that the more confident and dominant a girl acted in public, the more likely it was that she was sexually weak. Layla looked at the mother-daughter pair and wondered how much fun it would be to Domme them both. Layla smiled deviously as she thought about it.
Week two saw their first game, and Layla surprised many when she didn’t start Tiffany, but the weaker, but harder working, Sally. Tiffany had a meltdown and her mother a similar one in the stands when she realized her precious was not in goal.
Layla, though, just smiled through it all, her decision having a double purpose. First, to make a statement to Tiffany, her mother and the team: hard work pays off and Layla played favourites to no one. Secondly, just to fuck with Tiffany and her mother, and to create the conflict that would trigger Mrs. Jones’ journey to becoming her submissive little MILF slave.
To make matters worse for young Tiffany, Sally played extremely well, making a few big saves in a 2-0 victory.
Maddie was the offensive star with a brilliant individual effort that scored their first goal and set up Carrie for their second goal, late in the match.
If Layla looked forward to crushing the Jones girls, she was also greatly intrigued by the sexy, shy and reserved Mrs. Walsh. Layla couldn’t explain it, but there was something remarkably sexy about her. She dripped sweetness like maple syrup, yet had a raw sexiness that Layla felt certain was just lying dormant, dying to break free. Layla envisioned a much different seduction with this sweet, innocent MILF.
As expected, when the game ended, Mrs. Jones was chomping at the bit to have a discussion with Layla. Layla coolly listened as Mrs. Jones lambasted her in front of other parents and spectators. Layla remained calm until the MILF, or as Layla now called her MIPD (mom I plan to dominate), finished her one sided rant, before politely smiling. “This is not the place for this conversation.”
Mrs. Jones continued her verbal assault until Layla’s smile faded and she said loud enough for all remaining, which was pretty much everyone, “Mrs. Jones, last time I checked I was the coach of this team. So if you don’t like how I run the team and the camp, I am sure Mr. Quincy would be willing to refund your money.”
As Layla expected, Mrs. Jones was not used to having someone talk back to her and was speechless.
Layla, knowing she had won this tiny battle, turned to her young team and congratulated them on playing a great first game. She finished by discussing a new tradition that already existed in football, the game ball. Layla explained that after each game, a game ball would be awarded to a member of the team who best represented true teamwork. Layla, looking directly at Tiffany, handed the ball to Maddie. Maddie looked like she had won the lottery. Tiffany’s cheeks went a flaming red that matched her long hair. Layla, toying with the rich bitch mother, turned around, smiled and winked at her. Daggers were returned. Layla turned her back once again on the pretentious mother-cunt and visited with her players.
Ten minutes later, Layla began to head to her car when she saw Mrs. Walsh in the background, patiently waiting for her daughter. Layla walked over to the shy woman. Layla started the conversation. “Mrs. Walsh, your daughter is one great soccer player.”
“Thank you, Layla,” she replied, beaming like a mother should when her daughter makes her proud, “and please, call me Clara.”
“Ok, Clara,” Layla obeyed, “I assume she gets her hard work and determination from you.”
The beautiful MILF or MIPS (mom I plan to seduce as Layla referred to her in her seduction plan), shyly responded, “I don’t know about that. Her father was the athlete.”
“Oh, too bad he wasn’t here to see her one-girl show today.”
Clara’s whole demeanour changed. She whispered, “He died a couple of years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Layla consoled, now feeling slightly awkward. She leaned in and gave Clara a big friendly hug. “If there is ever anything I can do for you,” Layla began, before giving a slightly suggestive tone, “and I do mean anything….”
Clara smiled back at Layla, oblivious to any innuendo.
Layla backed up, smiling softly. “I do know one thing she got from you.”
“What’s that?” she asked, curious.
“Maddie may not get her athletic ability from her mother, but she definitely gets her beauty from you.” Layla winked, just as she had to Mrs. Jones, but with a completely different subtext.
Mrs. Walsh blushed, and watched the pretty soccer coach walk away. Clara was not gay nor had the thought ever even crossed her mind, until now. She stared at Layla’s tight ass in the soccer shorts until Maddie arrived.
Layla returned to her car and was not slightly surprised to see Mrs. Jones waiting for her, still clearly foaming at the mouth. Layla put on her fake smile. She opened, her tone confident, “Mrs. Jones, I hope this isn’t still about your daughter not starting today.”
Mrs. Jones’ face gave in slightly, not used to not getting her way with her bully tactics. She continued her aggressive approach, “I spend good money for my daughter.”
Layla’s smile faded and she spoke with authority. “Look Sammantha, it is way too fucking hot to sit out here and argue with you. If you want to continue this, get in my car now and we will continue this conversation at my house.”
Before the bitch could respond, Layla began to get in her car. Mrs. Jones, not one to lose, hesitated briefly, but got in the car of the young soccer coach.
Layla smiled, knowing she had the bitch exactly where she wanted her. Once on the road, Layla began the conversation, “Sammantha, it is ninety degrees today, and you are wearing pantyhose. That is fucking crazy.”
Sammantha glared at the foul-mouthed college girl. She hated explaining herself to such a nobody, but she explained anyway, not attempting to hide her condescending tone. “Upper class people like myself dress up at all times.”
“You can dress up and not wear man-pleasing pantyhose.”
The MILF sighed, “Not that it is any of your business, but these are not pantyhose, but rather thigh highs.”
Although Layla knew the answer, she asked anyways, “What are thigh highs?”
Answering with a dramatic sigh, “They are like pantyhose, but only go to your thigh.”
Layla ordered, “Show me.”
The dominant tone of the young girl startled Mrs. Jones, but none-the-less she complied, her attitude still dripping with contempt. She lifted up her dress and revealed the top of her thigh high stocking. “See, this is what fashionable upper class women wear.”
Layla, her tone equally full of disdain, responded, “Really, I thought those were what sluts wore.”
“Excuse me?” the rich MILF asked, aghast at being called such a name.
“Slut, whore, tramp, the terms are interchangeable,” Layla smirked.
They arrived at Layla’s dorm. Sammantha Jones’ voice went shrill, “How dare you speak to me that way?”
“What way, Sammantha, truthful?”
“I have had enough, take me back to my car,” the insulted woman demanded.
Layla laughed while she placed her hand on the MILF’s leg, taking the risk she was sure would pay off. “Look Sammantha, it is obvious you want me to fuck you.”
“What?” the MILF sputtered, shocked by the blunt accusation, yet she didn’t push the pretty blonde’s hand away.
“You heard me,” Layla clarified confidently, before adding another shocking accusation. “Maybe you are a dyke like your daughter.”
Offended, Mrs. Jones defended her daughter, “Tiffany is not gay.”
Layla laughed and slid her hand just slightly, but under the skirt of her next submissive. “Sammantha, there are three things I am very good at. The first is anything to do with soccer. The second is being able to tell when someone is a lesbian or lesbian curious, often before they know, like your daughter.”
“You have no proof she is a lesbian then,” the mother said confidently.
“No, but I can get some, I imagine,” Layla replied, even more confidently.
Attempting to be adamant, yet clearly distracted by Layla’s hand now moving slowly up her leg, “She is not gay. She is dating a college boy.”
“So,” Layla teased, “you are a married woman who is about to come into your daughter’s coaches’ house and submit to her completely.”
“What? I am not,” the pretty MILF defended just as Layla’s hand reached her very damp pussy.
“Why are you so wet, Mrs. Jones?”
The mother stammered, realizing the control was shifting, “I-I-I am not.” Layla shut up the confused woman by shoving her tongue in the MILF’s mouth, while at the same time sliding a finger inside the bitchy woman’s cunt.
Sammantha didn’t break the kiss and rather moaned into the mouth of the soccer coach. She couldn’t explain it, but she was suddenly helpless and completely subdued by the pretty college girl. She let out a sigh when Layla broke the kiss and moaned as she felt a finger pump in and out of her long-neglected pussy.
“I will only ask this once Mrs. Jones. Do you want to come to my room?”
Reacting without thought, the horny confused MILF answered, “Yes.”
Layla stopped finger-fucking the horny bitch and explained, “If you enter my dorm, you need to understand you must obey every instruction I give.”
Suddenly Sammantha was nervous, but horniness and curiosity got the better of her. “I understand.”
Layla quickly finger-fucked the MILF for a few more seconds before pulling her finger out. She sucked the juice off her fingers, “Not bad for an old bitch.” Layla saw the fury in the facial expression of the powerful mother, yet was amused when no words followed. Layla ordered, “Follow me.”
Mrs. Jones sat frozen, stunned by the shocking turn of events. She was infuriated with the treatment she had received from this social nobody, yet an overwhelming large part of her was turned on like she hadn’t been in a long time. So although the dignified reaction was to just walk away from this crazy situation, she instead got out of the car and followed her into the dorm. She kept her head down while she passed a couple of other college girls. She again briefly thought of turning and walking away, yet her body had a mind of its own, and right now it was doing the thinking.
Once in her dorm room, Layla quickly peeled off her clothes and, once naked, ordered to the sexy MILF, “Mrs. Jones, get on your knees.”
Sammantha reluctantly obeyed, oddly mesmerized by the co-ed’s perfectly tanned body.
Layla smiled at the quick obedience of her new slut and explained, “I’m going to have a shower, follow along and wait till I am done.”
Humiliation burned through the powerful woman, but she reluctantly began crawling to the young blonde’s bathroom. While Layla was in the shower, Mrs. Jones replayed the afternoon in her head and no matter how she did, she couldn’t imagine how she ended up in this bizarre predicament or why she didn’t just get up and leave. She wasn’t a lesbian. She had never even considered another woman in a sexual way before today. Yet there was something drawing her, almost against her will, to the pretty, confident co-ed. She couldn’t explain it but she felt the need to obey the blonde goddess and to submit to her. Although she hated admitting it, the dominating attitude of the co-ed had turned her on and the quick fingering had her near orgasm in only a couple of minutes. As soon as she saw her daughter’s coach naked, she desperately wanted to touch the girl’s small firm breasts and to smell the scent of her shaved pussy. Sammantha shook her head, desperate to get these naughty ridiculous thoughts out of her head. She was brought back to reality when she heard her name.
“Earth to Sammantha. What are you thinking about?” a dripping wet and naked Layla asked.
Sammantha looked up from her knees and was awestruck with the young girl’s body. Sammantha worked out for hours every day and her body couldn’t even begin to compare with the co-ed’s. Looking into her eyes and realizing she was to speak, she answered honestly, “I was trying to figure out why I was here.”
Layla chuckled, “Well, that is obvious. You want to be my slut.”
“I do not,” the MILF responded, insulted at the verbal degradation.
“You don’t?” Layla asked. “You are in my dorm room, on your knees waiting for me to get out of the shower, so I think that qualifies as you being a slut.”
The rich upper class woman stammered, “I- I-I….”
“Is slut too extreme? Would you prefer dyke?”
Sammantha gasped, “I am not gay!”
“If you say so, slut. This game is getting old. You want to please me. Say it!” Layla demanded.
The dazed and humiliated MILF was not used to being bossed around. She wanted to defend herself and put this young nobody in her place, yet the words out of her mouth expressed the opposite. “Yes, I want to please you.”
“And you are a dirty rich slut who needs to be disciplined by me,” Layla continued the verbal onslaught.
Mrs. Jones wondered when the humiliation would end as she reluctantly agreed. “Yes I am a slut who desperately needs to be disciplined.”
“So you agree you need a Mistress?” Layla asked.
The word shocked her. She stammered a reply, “Um, I don’t know.”
Layla ordered, her voice flaming hot with anger, “Get up and leave, Mrs. Jones, I don’t have time for this insubordination.”
Mrs. Jones was startled as Layla walked out of the bathroom. She got off her numb knees and followed the co-ed she had just offended. The words that came out of her mouth shocked her. “I am so sorry, Layla, I don’t know what to say.”
Now half dressed, Layla dismissed the confused older woman, “Just leave. I will have one of my loyal obedient sluts take you home.”
Mrs. Jones stood dumbfounded while Layla made a call on her cell.
“Slut, get your ass over here now,” Layla ordered and just as quickly put her phone down. She looked at the MILF she was playing like a fiddle and asked, “What are you still doing here? If it is about your daughter, tell her if she wants to start, she better start working as hard as everyone else. One of my good obedient lesbian sluts will drive you home. Go wait at the front entrance. Now get the fuck out of my dorm room.”
A stunned and speechless Mrs. Jones walked out of the dorm.
Like an obedient child, she waited to be picked up by some stranger.
Meanwhile, Layla yelled, “Come in, Melody.”
A short, brunette entered the room and immediately fell to her knees, as she had been instructed to do anytime she was in the private presence of her Mistress.
Layla smiled and handing her car keys to her sub, she ordered, “Downstairs there will be a pretty older blonde. Please drive her home. If she talks to you, feel free to explain our relationship.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the pretty slave obeyed, taking the keys and leaving the room.
Layla smiled while devilishly pondering the afternoon’s events. If she was right, and she usually was, Mrs. Jones would come to her tomorrow. Oh, how she loved the thrill of the chase!
Melody went downstairs quickly and walked up to the older woman, saying, “Follow me, ma’am.”
Mrs. Jones, now desperate to get away, quickly followed, and soon they were back on the road. Mrs. Jones gave Melody the address of the soccer field where she left her SUV, as if Melody were her personal driver, and turned her eyes to the road.
Melody, the sweetheart she was, attempted to start a conversation with the rattled stranger. “How do you know Layla?”
Sammantha glared at the unknown co-ed and responded tersely, “None of your business.”
Melody ignored the ignorant tone and said giddily, “Oh, you are one of her subs too?”
“God, no,” the snotty MILF bitch responded, “I am not some dumb lesbian bimbo.”
Melody was offended by the woman’s demeaning words and drove in silence the rest of the way. Once at the soccer field, Melody taunted the woman, “You know ma’am, if Layla decides she wants you, you will be hers.”
“That is absurd,” Mrs. Jones responded.
Melody’s smile returned, her tone dripping condescending sweetness, “If you say so, ma’ am.”
Mrs. Jones could tell the girl’s smug smile was condescending, and quickly got out of the car and slammed the door. The car drove off and a still very rattled Mrs. Jones got into her SUV. When she returned home, Tiffany asked where she had been. The still rattled mother lied to her daughter, explaining she had gone for a massage.
Tiffany asked, “What are we going to do about Coach?”
Mrs. Jones shocked her daughter and herself, “Tiffany, stop being a spoiled brat and start working hard like every other girl on the field.”
“Mother,” Tiffany began.
“No, enough Tiffany. You are eighteen years old and it is time for you to fight your own battles for yourself. Do you understand?”
Tiffany, almost in tears, never having been yelled at by her mother, nodded her head in understanding.
“Good,” Mrs. Jones responded, calming down, “you are the better goalie Tiffany, but Layla expects you to work as hard as everyone else does.” Exhausted, Mrs. Jones hugged her daughter, something else she rarely, if ever, did and went to have a much needed shower.
That night, Sammantha tossed and turned, replaying the absurd events of the day in her head over and over. Why had she obeyed the harsh instructions of the young girl? Why did her pussy get so wet while in the presence of the young co-ed? Why didn’t she stand up for herself? Lastly, why was she so fucking horny? She masturbated herself to sleep, the thought of submitting to her daughter’s soccer coach replaying over and over in her head.
Next day at practice, Layla was happy to see a very different Tiffany. She didn’t complain and worked her ass off. Layla rewarded her with praise, “That’s much better, Tiffany.”
Layla also noticed that Mrs. Jones was greatly distracted throughout the practice, which made Layla smile.
When practice was done, Layla told the girls to have a good weekend, relaxing before Suicide Week: three games and three practices in six days.
The girls groaned and headed their separate ways. Layla asked Maddie, “What you doing this lovely weekend?”
Maddie, usually shy, couldn’t hide her excitement. “Two friends and I are going to the lake for a girl’s only weekend.”
“Very cool. Well, have fun,” Layla replied while thinking to herself that means her mother will be home alone. A variety of ideas floated in Layla’s head until she was distracted by the voice of Sammantha Jones.
“Layla, may I speak with you?”
Layla couldn’t believe the polite tone the overbearing mother used. Layla turned around and smiled, “What can I do for you, Mrs. Jones?”
There were only a few people still left, but Mrs. Jones spoke in a whisper, “I would like to discuss yesterday.”
“I see,” Layla responded thoughtfully.
“In private,” the MILF added, nervously.
Layla said, “My dorm is off limits today, there is some big reunion thing there.”
Mrs. Jones offered quickly, “We can go to my house.”
“I am not sure you understand what I expect from you,” Layla told her.
Mrs. Jones responded, shyly, “Yes, I do.”
“You do?” Layla asked, before leaning into the Mom’s ear, “I expect a hundred percent obedience. I expect you to be my personal slut.”
Her hot breath teased the older woman’s ear and a soft bite of the earlobe allowed an eager whimper to escape.
“Yes, I understand.”
Her tongue in the once bitchy woman’s ear, Layla added, “If I come to your house, I own you. Your mind and body are mine to do with as I please.”
The humiliated mother nodded her head in understanding.
Layla continued, “In public you will now call me Miss Layla and in private Mistress Layla. Is that understood, slut?”
Layla thought ‘slut may be pushing it’, but the defeated mother replied, “Yes, I understand Miss Layla.”
Layla smiled at the complete submission of this once high and mighty bitch. “What about Tiffany?”
“She is already on her way to San Diego with her boyfriend.”
Layla chuckled, “Soon she will accept that she is a dyke, just like her mommy.”
The new MILF sub went even redder, but didn’t say anything.
Layla asked, “And what about Mr. Jones?”
This time it was the MILF’s turn to laugh bitterly, although Layla noticed a tinge of hurt in it. “He is in France till the end of the month.”
“So we have the whole house to ourselves all weekend?” the dominant coach queried.
“Yes, Miss Layla, except for the maid,” the soccer mommy confirmed.
“Hmmmm,” Layla mumbled deep in thought. “All right, I need to go home and pick up a few things for your training.”
Mrs. Jones’ face flinched just a tad at the word ‘training’ and waited further instruction, like a good sub should.
Layla got Mrs. Jones’ address and whispered one last time in her ear, “By the end of the weekend, you will be a very different woman.” She bit the older woman’s ear hard and turned and walked away.
Mrs. Jones stood paralyzed until after her new Mistress had disappeared completely. As she slowly made her way to her SUV, she wondered what she had just got herself into. While her brain contemplated the long term consequences, her pussy juice began to leak through her thin thong.
Layla arrived a couple of hours later at the mommy-bitch-turned-obedient sub’s house with a duffle bag of toys and other essentials. She knocked on the door and was greeted by a black maid.
Layla asked, “What is your name?”
The older black woman, probably on her 40′s, responded, “Tamara, ma’am.”
Layla entered the mansion and was briefly awe-struck by the massive estate. She asked, “Does Mrs. Jones treat you well?”
Her facial expression betrayed her words, “Yes, she is a good boss to work for.”
Layla didn’t push it yet and asked politely, “Tamara, could you please tell Mrs. Jones that Layla has arrived?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the chubby black maid responded politely.
Layla surveyed the room while she waited. After a couple of minutes of waiting, Mrs. Jones arrived. “Welcome, Miss Layla.”
Layla smiled, “I think your personal residence counts as alone.”
Mrs. Jones looked at Tamara, “You are dismissed, Tamara.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Tamara replied gratefully.
Layla waited patiently, allowing her new sub this last minute of public propriety. Once Tamara had left the room, Mrs. Jones looked nervously to the confident co-ed, “Welcome Mistress Layla.”
“This is a very impressive home, slut.”
“Thank you, Mistress Layla.”
Having had enough of the pleasantries, Layla ordered, “Take off your dress, my mommy slut.”
A small wince escaped the proud woman, but she obeyed the young woman’s order.
Layla walked over to the MILF or MIPT (Mommy I Plan to Train) and inspected her body. “For an older bitch, you have kept in amazing shape.”
“Thank you, Mistress Layla,” the half naked mother of one shivered.
“Let’s see those tits, mommy dyke,” the soccer coach ordered.
Shaking slightly, the rich mother unbuckled her bra and released her large firm breasts. She now stood in front of this pretty soccer coach in only her nude stockings, thong panties and four inch heels.
Layla pinched the woman’s nipples. “Why aren’t they hard, slut?”
Sammantha whimpered and answered clearly embarrassed, “They never get erect.”
“Really?” Layla asked, pinching harder. “Never?”
The MILF winched from the sharp pain. “Not since I had the implants, Mistress Layla.”
Layla moved around behind the older woman and stunned the woman with a sharp hard slap on her naked ass, the thong not covering any of the woman’s still impressive rear. “Fuck mommy-cunt, how many hours a day do you work out to keep this body in shape?”
“Three, give or take, Mistress Layla,” the humiliated redhead responded, tears now rolling down her face.
“Does your husband fuck you in the ass?”
“Yes, on occasion, Mistress Layla.”
“Do you like a nice hard cock in your ass?”
“Only when I am drunk, Mistress Layla.”
“Take off your thong, mommy whore,” Layla instructed.
Sammantha took off the thin piece of fabric, now standing in only her thigh highs and heels.
Layla inspected her new sub’s pussy. The cunt was completely hairless and her lips had a sweet shine to them. “Your pussy seems wet, mommy tramp. Why is that?”
“I don’t know, Mistress Layla,” Sammantha replied.
“Really? You have no clue?” Layla questioned.
“I can’t explain it, Mistress Layla, I wish I could.”
“You are so adorable in your complete upper class dignity,” Layla mockingly accused. “Take off my shoes for me, slut.” Layla lifted her right foot up and allowed the rich woman to be the maid for once. The woman’s hand shook slightly. Once the shoe was off, Layla lifted her left foot and the MILF repeated the order. The humiliation continued as Layla insisted she also remove her sweaty socks. The MILF complied. Layla, smiling deviously, commanded, “Clean my feet with your mouth.”
Sammantha Jones, one of the most powerful women in the city, looked up at the college co-ed with a look of disgust. Layla could see the woman on her knees contemplating this order. Layla’s smile did not falter, and soon Sammantha broke eye contact and took Layla’s toe in her mouth.
Mrs. Jones tasted the salty sweat of the girl’s foot that had presumably been in running shoes all day. The scent was disgusting and the taste awful, but she obeyed the nasty and humiliating task. Used to being in control, she knew exactly what the co-ed was doing to her. She was making it very clear who was in charge and seeing just how far the MILF would fall. Once done with the first foot, Mrs. Jones heard the cocky voice of the co-ed, “What about the soles of my feet, slut?” Anger bubbled inside the rich upper class woman, yet she obeyed the utterly humiliating task.
After both feet had been adequately cleaned to the liking of the young Mistress, she ordered, “Let’s go to your bedroom. I want to fuck my new whore in her own bed.”
The new submissive slave began to get off her already sore knees.
“Not so fast, slut. Lead the way. But do so on all fours.”
The MILF dropped back to her knees, her face as red as a burning fire. She began the lengthy crawl to her bedroom.
Layla grabbed her duffle bag of goodies and followed her new sub. Her grin seemed permanently burned to her face. She had dominated many women over the years, most with ease, but this one was already becoming her favourite because of her uppity I-am-better-than-you attitude.
Sammantha was mortified at her treatment by the pretty co-ed and even more mortified by the fact that she not only allowed it to happen, but couldn’t resist. Her knees were killing her and crawling like a dog in her own home was humiliating. Once she reached her room, she stopped. She didn’t know why, but she did. She soon heard the voice of her Mistress complimenting her, “Good slut, you are a fast learner.”
Layla walked to the king-sized bed and undressed. Soon she was completely naked. On all fours, Sammantha was in awe of the perfect body of her Mistress. Although the soccer coaches’ breasts were small, they worked with the rest of her perfect body. Layla asked, “Have you ever eaten pussy before?”
“Yet, you so eagerly submitted to me. Curious,” the blonde beauty pondered.
The older redhead pondered it as well. It made no sense. Yet, there she was on all fours, in her own house, eager to do just that. Eat her first pussy.
“Crawl to me.”
The MILF did as she was told, her pussy leaking slightly. Once she reached Layla, she looked directly up and was inches away from the girl’s pussy. The girl’s scent already lingered in the air. Layla asked, “Do you want to eat mine?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are going to have to do better than that. My pussy is a delicacy and needs to be treated as such. A rich bitch like you probably pays a good deal of money for a special delicacy. So I will ask again, cunt. Why do you want to eat my delicacy?”
The frustrated, confused and horny mom really had no idea, but she just said what she was feeling. “I can’t explain it. I have never found another woman attractive, usually only a threat. I have never liked being told what to do, but I can’t resist anything you say. There is something about you that I am drawn to. All I want to do is please you.”
Layla smiled, opened her legs a bit, and said, “Please away.”
The inexperienced MILF moved closer and extended her tongue. Other than tasting her own juices off her fingers, or more times than not off her husband’s cock, she had never tasted another pussy. Much to her surprise, her Mistress’ pussy had a very pleasant taste: sweet and tangy. The more she lapped at the appetizing juice, the more she wanted it. She wanted to bury her face deep into the young girl’s delicious pussy, but could not from the awkward position of her kneeling and the co-ed standing.
Layla, on the other hand, purposely chose this awkward and power position. It was incredibly hard to come this way and watching a rookie pussy eater attempt to please in such a position was always entertaining. Layla allowed the new MILF slut to lick her pussy for ten minutes in complete silence other than the odd moan, before she asked, “So, do you like being my little lesbian slut?”
The mother couldn’t believe her response, “Yes, Mistress, I love being your lesbian slut.”
Layla moved onto the older woman’s bed and spread her legs. “Get your ass up here and finish what you started.”
The MILF slut obeyed and quickly her head was buried between the lovely soccer coach’s legs. Now in a much more comfortable position, Sammantha could get much deeper with her tongue. She opened up her Mistress’s pussy lips with her tongue, trying to get deep into her cunt. The juices continued to flow slowly out of the young girl’s pussy and Sammantha, determined to get the young co-ed off, slid a finger inside the girl’s pussy.
Layla screamed the instant her pussy was penetrated, “Oh yes, my slut, finger fuck your Mistress. Make me come.”
Mrs. Jones frantically pumped the girl’s pussy with her finger while at the same time licking the young girl’s clit. She really had no idea what she was doing, but decided to focus on the clit, because that was what worked when her husband was going down on her. It seemed to be working, as the co-ed’s moans began to get louder and more constant.
“Yes, keep fucking me, slut. You will make a good addition to my little harem of whores. Fuck, fuck, finger-fuck me deeper, deeper, yessssssss.”
Sammantha felt the girl’s legs tense up and seconds later felt the gush of cum she had eagerly been craving ever since she first tasted the beautiful pussy. She eagerly lapped and lapped, attempting to get as much of the girl’s cum as she could. She didn’t stop until instructed.
“Stop slut,” Layla ordered, “I need a few seconds to recover.”
Sammantha laid subserviently, between her Mistress’s legs, waiting for further instructions, her face dripping with cum. Seconds ticked into minutes before the young Mistress spoke. “Get on the bed on your back, slut.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the MILF obeyed, hoping to get some much needed satisfaction. The co-ed went back to her bag again and quickly returned with it.
Layla grabbed the MILF’s arms and like a veteran cop had her new slave handcuffed to the bed in less than ten seconds. The look of fear in the MILF’s eyes was priceless for Layla. Layla reached in her bag of tricks and pulled out a small green vibrator. She turned it on low and slipped it inside the MILF’s already very damp cunt. The new slut let out a loud moan. Layla smiled while she continued the light bondage by tying her new slut’s legs together, pushing the toy completely inside the horny mommy. Once done, Layla leaned in and kissed her pretty redhead slut. The slut kissed back, already writhing from the toy doing her thing inside her. Layla broke the kiss and announced, “I’ll be back in an hour or two. Don’t you be going anywhere.”
The bound MILF begged, “Please don’t leave me like this. Where are you going?”
“Out,” Layla shrugged and left the slut bound and with a toy lodged inside her.
The MILF called out for Layla, but eventually quit. The buzzing down below was really getting her horny, a constant buzz, yet not enough to get her off. Resigned to her fate, she tried to move around so she could make herself come. Unfortunately, no matter how she moved, she couldn’t get to the next level. Frustration built inside her.
Meanwhile, Layla had not actually left but was in Tiffany’s room snooping. Layla searched for a diary, but there was none to find. She went onto the young girl’s computer and chuckled when it had no password protection. The first thing she did was search the sites she had recently been on. She was a Yahoo junkie it seemed. She also recently visited a site on soccer goaltending. Going back a few days Layla found what she was looking for. One site she was regularly on was called Literotica. As Layla continued scavenging through the different stories the young redhead goalie had recently read, she smiled. As expected, the majority of the vast majority of the stories were lesbian stories: Bedding the Babysitter, Training Teacher, Soccer Moms, and Presidential Powers. She seemed to like submissive characters and Layla smiled knowing that she would be an easy prey if she wanted…and she wanted. Layla went downstairs and got herself a glass of wine. She flipped on the TV and turned to a soccer match between the Americans and Germans. It was still scoreless with ten minutes left. Layla watched the end of the match that ended in a draw. She hated that. In her mind, there would be no shootouts, just straight overtime until someone scored. It might take hours, but that is what happens in hockey and she sure couldn’t see why a soccer game couldn’t be the same. Endurance and fitness were the two keys to success and soccer and it ticked her off when fate would decide the outcome after a lengthy game. She shut off the TV, went to the fridge and grabbed an impressively thick and long cucumber, some whipped cream, and a bottle of wine. She grabbed a couple of wine glasses and made her way back to her bound submissive mommy.
Summary: A drunk Mother at the lake ends up fucking all three of her sons.
NOTE 1: This story was written especially for the Summer Lovin’ Contest. So please vote!!!
NOTE 2: I would like to thank my editors for all their dedication to my stories. Kisses and more to Steve B and Estragon.
It was our first summer without our dad. He passed away of a heart attack last November. We hemmed and hawed for a long time before deciding to continue our annual family camping trip. For over twenty-five years we had spent the first week of August at Lake Wellenchuk as a family. It wasn’t our only family ritual, but it was one we had kept up even as our lives got hectic with college, an almost wedding and the rest of it. So it was with a heavy heart, and only the third time since dad’s funeral that we were all together again (the other two being one Christmas and Kevin, our youngest brother’s high school graduation).
Before I get too carried away about the unbelievable weekend itself, I should tell you a bit about myself, my two younger brothers, and my beautiful mother.
My name is Jackson, although my family calls me Jacks, and I am 26 years old. I am the reliable big brother who has spent much of his life getting my middle brother out of trouble. I was married for three years, but got divorced a month before my dad passed away. They say bad things happen in threes and after the divorce and my father’s death, I kept waiting for the third disaster to hit. Luckily, the third thing was rather small in comparison, a fender bender car accident on New Year’s Eve. Any other year and that would have been a major disaster, but in 2010, it was just a fitting end to one fucked up year. My New Year’s Resolution was to start living life to the fullest, spend more time with my family and meet a woman. I got a loan from the bank and made my dream a reality: I opened an Italian restaurant and named it after Dad— Amelio’s.
My second goal was partly achieved, as I moved back in with my Mother and youngest brother Kevin, although it was difficult getting much quality family time because of the long hours I worked attempting to make my new business a success. My other brother, Adam, had left in January on a six month ‘finding yourself’ trip through Europe and Asia. My last goal had been an undeniable disaster. I had only been on three dates, hadn’t been laid in over a year. Although there were many prospects coming in and out of my life daily, I just didn’t seem to have the time or energy to even attempt a romance. Lastly, I often tended to compare any woman I met with my Mother and that, I have learned, is never a good thing.
Adam was the loose cannon of the group. A wild one from the time he was a toddler, he hadn’t really changed in his wild ways, even at 22 years of age. He took a year off college, dropped out (truthfully he was told to take a year off) and, after Dad died, decided to just travel the world. His goal was to sleep with a girl from every country he visited and, according to his travel blog, he had accomplished that. He returned back just in time for Kevin’s graduation and our trip. He was still exhibiting his usual easy-going attitude.
Kevin, my youngest brother, turned 18 in May and graduated high school with honours in June. He was the geek of the group, a do-gooder who was also a sweetheart to his long time girlfriend Elly. He would rather read than go out, but he greatly idolized Adam, in an almost unhealthy way.
Our Mom Cassie was 45 years old and still in amazingly great shape. She had always worked out and no one believed she had been pregnant three times. Her breasts sagged a bit, but she usually wore outfits and bras that kept them standing at full attention. I would be lying if the majority of my high school wank sessions weren’t about my Mother. But like all guys, fucking their Mother is just a naughty fantasy they jerk off to from the time they learn to jerk off until the day they die. It is who we are. My Mother did pretty well with the life insurance after my Dad’s death and had attempted to keep things as normal as could be.
The first night at the lake was, not surprisingly, emotionally exhausting. We had a campfire and just shared Dad stories. For awhile, seeing my Mother upset, I wondered if this had been a good idea. But the last hour, we shared funny Dad stories and the emotional bubble seemed to burst.
The next afternoon was a scorcher. My Mom, I should note, knows that she still turns heads. For example, the two-piece bikini she was wearing was something the average female teenager looking to get attention would wear. In truth, the minute I saw her come out of her room after lunch in the two- piece, my dick gave her a secret salute.
While at the beach, I noticed many guys, from teenagers to old pervs, checking out my 45 year old mother. I was both proud and protective of her.
The first slight hint of the evening to come, after my brothers went to scope out the chicks playing beach volleyball, was when we laid our towels down on the beautiful soft sand. Mom lay on her towel and asked, “Jacks honey, could you put some lotion on me?”
Dad had always done this in the past, and my dick rose to attention again just with the thought of touching my sexy Mother. I took the lotion, coated my hands and generously and gently lotioned my Mom’s shoulders, neck and back. I then moved down and did her legs and feet.
Once done, Mom asked, her voice seeming just a tad flirty, “Jacks, could you please get really close to my bikini bottom, which is where I always burn?”
My erection begged for attention, so many of my stroke fantasies having started just like this. I put more lotion on my hands, which were slightly trembling, and rubbed lotion on my Mom’s lower back, so low I felt the crevice of her ass cheeks. I thought I heard a moan escape my Mom’s lips, but I assumed it was just wishful thinking. I finished by doing her thighs and again got real close to her prized possession. This time she definitely let out a moan.
“Thank you, Jacks, you have hands just like your father.”
“You’re welcome, Mom,” I said, furtively adjusting my cock in my trunks.
My Mom caught my adjustment and smiled, “Is that because of me?”
I stammered, completely embarrassed, “No, I, um….”
My Mom, her tone soft and sweet, “It’s ok, honey, when Dad lathered me up I often could feel his stiffness on me. I often thought he might just fuck me right then and there.”
“Mom,” I said, shocked by a frankness I had never heard from her.
She just smiled and looked back down and went on sunbathing.
Nothing else remotely interesting happened the rest of the afternoon, but I was greatly distracted. After touching my mom, all I wanted to do was touch her more. All my Mother-fucking fantasies came flooding back and, although it hadn’t occurred to me yet that the fantasy could become reality, my cock was at full mast all day.
That night, around nine, after the four of us had all finished a fair amount of booze, Adam and Kevin said they were going to a party with some girls they met. I argued they should stay and hang with Mom, but Adam, thinking with his cock like he always did, said they were going out. Kevin was just trying to fit in with his cool brother and sheepishly followed. I called them assholes and they left.
Mom and I went out and started a fire in our very secluded and private cabin. We sat by the fire, on a two-person swing and drank even more. About half an hour after my brothers left, Mom clearly was past tipsy and well on her way to really intoxicated. Still in her same bikini, she asked, “So, Jacks, when was the last time you got laid?”
Beer sprayed out of my mouth. “Mom!”
“No, seriously. You have looked after Kevin and I since your father died. It’s time for you to start thinking about yourself.”
“Well, truthfully, work has been more of a hindrance.”
“You work too hard,” Mom suggested, her hand falling innocently onto my leg.
Her soft touch had me distracted and my cock woke up from its slumber. I stammered slightly, “I have no choice if I want this restaurant to succeed.”
Mom’s hand moved up just slightly, “I know, I know, it’s just I want you to find a woman too.”
“Women are exhausting, time-consuming and wallet-crushing,” I sighed, remembering not so fondly my last couple of failed relationships and a divorce I was still paying for.
“The right one isn’t,” Mom suggested.
“Well I am still searching for her, I guess,” I shrugged and finished my beer.
“You know Jacks, you look a lot like your father,” Mom said, her tone changing.
“I know,” I replied, having been told that for as long as I can remember.
Her hand moved up slightly again. I took a deep breath and felt her hand move and rest on my hard cock. “Hmmmm, feels like you and your dad have something else in common.”
“Mom, I…” I began.
“Stop. I haven’t had sex in eight months, and you haven’t had sex in just as long I am guessing,” she argued, her hand now firmly on my fully erect cock. Her face went pouty like a teen girl trying to get her way with her boyfriend. “Haven’t you ever fantasized about Mommy?”
“I-um,” I stammered, before finally thinking ‘fuck it’, “Mom I have fantasized about you since I can remember.”
“I thought so,” she whispered, her hot breath in my ear. Her hand rubbed my cock with a bit more purpose. “Do you want Mommy to suck your cock?”
I let out a grunt in acknowledgment.
Her tongue teased my ear, “I will take that as a yes.”
She moved away from my ear and quickly unbuckled my shorts and pulled out my raging hard-on. “Fuck, I have missed the feeling of a big hard cock.”
She leaned forward and took the head of my cock in her mouth.
I moaned on contact, in pure ecstasy, my lifelong fantasy suddenly coming true. I stared at my mom and her wet lips around my cock. Unlike most girls who sucked cock just long enough to get me hard, my mom sucked on my cock like she actually enjoyed it. After a couple of minutes of just teasing my head with her lips and tongue, she began to take more of my cock in her expert mouth. She continued the slow sweet style, taking just a bit more of my shaft in her mouth at a time.
I don’t know how long she had my cock in her mouth before she finally took my erection out and requested, “Son, I desperately need to taste your cum. I don’t mean to be crass or anything, but I love the taste of cum. Your dad used to fulfill this need. So please, I want you to shoot a big full load of your cum down my throat. Think you can do that for Mommy?”
Still feeling like a horny teenager from every eighties sex comedy, I just babbled a bunch of incoherent words that implied yes.
She took my cock back in her mouth. Unlike the slow tenderness of a couple minutes ago, this time she devoured my cock whole. She deep throated me and then bobbed up and down like a porn star. Not surprisingly, I didn’t last long under such intense pleasure. I grunted, “I’m coming Mommy.” A few seconds later I exploded my cum down my Mother’s throat. Unlike most girls, she didn’t miss a beat, as she continued the fast-paced assault on my cock, long after my cum had all been swallowed.
Suddenly with a confidence I didn’t know was in me, I pulled out and aggressively pushed her onto the grass onto her back and opened her legs. I pulled her bikini bottom to the side and dove into my Mother’s cunt. I licked her hairy pussy eager to return the favour and get her off.
My Mom’s cunt was already sopping wet and within seconds of my tongue on her pussy lips, she got animated.”Oh yes, Jacks, your tongue feels so good on Mommy’s cunt.” She moved her ass up and down attempting to fuck herself with my tongue. I continued to lick and heard her scream, “Fuck, Jacks, I’m coming.” Seconds later I was sprayed by a river of juice.
I continued licking, eager to swallow as much of my Mother’s juice as I could. Finally, she said the words I had dreamt about for years, “Jacks, I want you in me. Come fuck Mommy.”
She quickly pulled off her bikini bottom to give me easier access to her pussy. I didn’t have to be told twice. I quickly positioned myself on top of her and slid easily into her warm oasis. I moved in and out slowly and leaned forward to kiss her beautiful mountains of flesh, which were sadly still partially hidden by her skimpy bikini top. As I kissed and gently sucked on the top of her breasts, she moaned, “Does my son want to suck on the same breasts he once nursed?”
“Badly,” I mumbled, my lips never leaving her body.
She leaned forward and slipped out of her last piece of clothing.
I just stared at her still amazing firm breasts and her big hard nipples. I instinctively took a nipple in my mouth and sucked on it. So focused on my Mommy’s delicious tits I had stopped fucking her, my cock resting comfortably deep inside her. I took her other nipple into my mouth and resumed my slow fucking of my Mother. This tender intimate scene lasted over ten minutes before it was interrupted by the shocked words of my middle brother.
“Holy fucking shit!” Adam said, clearly shocked by what he was witnessing.
I looked up and saw my two brothers both staring at the sight of their mother being fucked by their oldest sibling.
Before I had a chance to speak, although I had no idea what I would have possibly said, my very drunk and horny Mother shocked us all. “Don’t just stand there like a couple of wankers. Come and join us.”
Adam, who had a reputation of fucking anything that moved, had no moral reservations about the fact that it was his Mother and was naked and his dick revving to go in a heartbeat. He walked over to my Mom and presented his rod to his Mother’s mouth.
My Mother didn’t say anything, but instead took her middle son’s cock in her mouth.
My youngest brother stood motionless, clearly in a state of shock by what he was seeing. My cock was still lodged deep inside my horny Mother. I was in awe as I watched as Mom gobbled up my brother’s, to my great pride, smaller cock. Kevin still hadn’t moved.
My Mother quit sucking Dave’s cock and looked directly at her youngest, eighteen-year old son, and ordered, like a Mother would scold her son, “Get your ass over here now, young man.”
Kevin seemed to waken from his stunned stupor and shyly walked over to the incestuous act that was currently taking place.
Adam attempted to help, “Get naked, man.”
Mom looked at her nervous son and asked, “Don’t I turn you on?”
Kevin finally stammered, “Y-y-yes.”
“Then come join the party,” Mom suggested before turning to me and ordering, “and you, get back to what you were doing to me.”
“Yes, Mom,” I absurdly replied, and began pumping her pussy again.
Adam said, “Kevin it’s now or never. Time to lose that cherry.”
Mom’s face got even more excited, “My little Kevin is still a virgin?”
Kevin sheepishly whispered, “Yes.”
“Well we better change that,” Mom announced matter-of-factly. Kevin nervously undressed and as soon as he was naked, Mom pulled him in and took his cock, that was slightly larger than either of his older brother’s, in her mouth. She sucked him like a horny slut desperate to get a cock nice and hard. Although Kevin’s mind may have been contemplating resisting, his cock had other thoughts. Clearly horny and in charge, my mother, like a drill sergeant in charge of pleasure, ordered, “Jacks, take a break. Let’s let Kevin feel what it’s like to be with a woman.
I reluctantly pulled my cock out of my Mother. Mom ordered Kevin, “Lay down baby, let Mommy take care of you.”
Kevin lay on the blanket and watched as his Mother straddled him and easily engulfed his cock inside her cunt. She bounced up and down, her beautiful tits bouncing in unison while she took her son’s virginity.
Adam, not one to wait patiently, moved up and offered his cock to my Mother’s mouth. My mom purred, “Oh Adam, you are such a dirty boy.” Without another word, she took her middle son’s cock in her mouth.
After only a couple of minutes of riding her son’s cock, Kevin warned, “Mom, I am going to come.”
Mom took her other son’s cock out of her mouth and ordered, “Fill your Mommy with your hot seed, son.”
Mom continued bouncing up and down on her son’s cock and within a few seconds Kevin bellowed, “I’m coming Mommy!”
Mom milked her youngest son’s cock, extracting every last drop.
As soon as Kevin was done, Adam ordered. “Move it little man, time for a real man to fuck our Mother.”
Mom gave a slutty smirk, “You better not be all talk.”
Adam flipped my Mother onto her back on the ground and drove into her, Kevin getting out of the way just in time. Mom instantly got animated, “You like fucking your Mother, don’t you, you dirty boy?”
“I have wanted to do this for years,” my middle brother growled between thrusts.
“Oh yes, fuck me son. Fuck me hard. Yes,” my mother wailed.
Kevin and I watched our brother hammer away at our Mother, neither of us really believing what was happening. After a few minutes of hardcore fast-paced fucking, my Mother screamed, “I’m coming sonnnnn!”
This made Adam smile and he kept drilling her cunt furiously while our Mother’s orgasm shook through her. A variety of erotic moans and screams echoed as an everlasting orgasm continued to pulse through Mom.
Finally, my brother asked, “Where do you want my cum, Mother?”
My mom shamelessly begged, ” Fill me with your cum, son,”
Adam continued pounding Mom until his face changed and he grunted, “I’m coming Mommy.” He buried his cock deep into Mom and shot his wad inside her.
Both Kevin and I were hard again and Mom, who clearly was insatiable, ordered, “Kevin come lay back down for Mommy.”
I was disappointed. This had begun as an intimate evening with just Mom and I and now I was getting left out. Once Kevin was on the ground, Mom straddled him for a second time. This time though she ordered me, “Get over here, Jacks, and fuck your Mother’s ass.”
I couldn’t believe it. Kevin and I were going to DP our beautiful mother. I quickly got behind my Mother, who leaned forward giving me easy access to her rosebud. I slid my rod between her sweet ass cheeks.
My Mom, clearly impatient, ordered, “Stop admiring your Mother’s ass and fill it with your meat.”
Needing no further encouragement, I slowly began to penetrate my Mom’s rear. It was incredibly tight. Once half my dick was in her ass, she surprised me by pushing back and taking the majority of my cock in her butt. My Mother demanded, “Now stop being a fucking pansy and fuck your Mom’s ass.”
Slightly embarrassed by my Mother’s scolding and determined to make her happy, like I had always attempted to, I began to fuck my Mom’s ass. She leaned forward and began a very non-mother-son-like kiss with Kevin. I leaned forward as well to deeper fill my Mom’s ass. From this position, I seemed powerful and began to thrust in and out of my Mother, giving an extra hard thrust each time. The hard thrusts forced my Mom to quit kissing her youngest son and move her hands out to hold herself up.
“Oh yes, Jacks, that’s it baby, fuck Mommy’s ass. Fuck it deep and hard. Yes,” she moaned.
Her words were quickly muffled by Adam who ordered, “No reason I should be left out of this. Now suck my cock, Mommy slut.”
I looked up, thinking Adam may have gone too far, but instead heard Mom ask, “And how do I compare to all the other sluts you have fucked?”
Adam shoved his cock in her mouth and said, “So far so good, slut. But let’s see how you worship my cock.”
I continued ramming my rod in my Mom’s still incredibly tight ass and soon she adjusted and we were like a well-oiled machine. With each thrust forward, she deep-throated most of Adam’s cock and when I pulled back, so did she. There was a bizarre symmetry to the triple penetration of our mother.
OMG! I adore my father. He is not only handsome but he is so loving and caring, my protector, my daddy. He treats me like a princess and spoils me rotten. I know he is very sexual and a bit of a sexual deviant and a pervert in the way he treats my mom. My mom is a bit of a flirt and a sexually liberal woman. I bet she experimented a lot in college, I can just tell. We are not very shy with clothes around the house and my parents are not really sexually secretive either. Like the other day, I was home and they fucked in the laundry room. Last year I almost walked in on them while they were fucking against the kitchen island on their anniversary. My dad grabs my mom’s ass almost every time they kiss right in front of me and a couple times I have noticed that my mom is jacking my dad off under the blanket while we are all watching a movie. I actually think that my parents are my role models for a perfect relationship. Although I am only 18 going on 19, I know that I want my man to be just like my dad and I can only hope that I look as sexy and hot as my mom when I am her age. On many different occasions I have heard my mom call her husband “daddy.” Like “What is daddy getting for his precious daughter for her birthday this year,” or “hey daddy where are you taking your sexy girls for dinner tonight,” or “come here big daddy let me give you a hug,” or when they don’t think I am around she’d say “are you going to fuck me big daddy?” No matter what the context, hearing that makes me weak in my knees, warm in my heart, and wet in my pussy. Several times now, when I am masturbating at night, my mind replays the words daddy or even mommy and then I utter those words out physically and that is what pushes me over the edge and I came.
I am a bit of a daddy’s girl too. I played tennis in high school and I have kept myself in good shape. I am told I have a smoking body. I absolutely love wearing sexy clothes and underwear because it makes me feel great. Most importantly I love how adorable my dad looks when he looks at me prance around the house in tee shirt and panties or his dress shirt and panties, or low rider flannel shorts, and his boxers. Only recently I noticed my mom starring at my butt or my cleavage. I didn’t think of it much at first but one day I heard her on the phone saying, “she is such a hot little minx she turns her dad on for sure but she makes me quiver too. I bed she is all shaved just like her mother.” I knew she was talking about me. I grabbed mom’s old albums and found a couple pictures of her with her college friends and how close they looked and how skimpily they were dressed. I wondered if mom swung both ways. Needless to say I immediately went into my room, took off my panties, didn’t even bother to take off my shirt and masturbated myself to three or four massive orgasms thinking about, for the very first time, another woman, and my mom at that.
Since then I have increased my teasing. It makes me feel good and its harmless. I am sure many young women have fantasized about incest with their fathers and even their mothers. It feels so natural. I mean you have such an amazing biological and emotional bond and you live together and see each other every day. How can I girl not imagine what her daddy’s cock looks like when she hears her mother call him daddy in bed and moan and whimper so loud even the neighbors can tell what’s going on. And how can a young woman not wonder what her mother looks like naked when she looks so hot and dad can’t keep his hands off of her. I wonder what an older version of my own pussy looks like in my mom, her ass and oh my god her breasts and nipples.
Sometimes when my mom is not around I forget to wear panties. You should see the involuntary audio and eyeball reactions I notice every time I bend over or reach up for something in front of him. The real treat is when I find reasons to hug my mom and dad real tight. How amazing it feels when my daddy hugs me from behind and kisses my neck or cheek with so much love. He does the same thing with my mom. And strangely I love how tingly it feels when my mom gives me a quick hug from behind like when the other day I was doing dishes when she came home from work. One time my mom gave me such a tight hug from behind that lasted more than a minute that I my pussy gushed out creamy juices right there and then. And that was just because I surprised her by making dinner when I knew she had a horrible day at work. On such days I lock myself up in my room and rub my clit and finger my pussy and make myself cum several times before I can calm down.
The last two weekends have been amazing to say the least not only because what transpired between my father and me but also because how my mom reacted to it. Oh my god that woman is so sexually liberated it makes my pussy quiver just thinking about it. Right in front of us as I sit in my dad’s lap batting my eyelashes to get him to pay for my summer trip to Europe, mom starts to open and close her legs with her hands between them. She had a flustered look on her face. At first I had no idea how to respond because I was so nervous and so new to this encounter. So I kept pretending to be clueless but kept looking over at my mom’s out of control body from the corner of my eyes. I know dad loved watching his wife get all worked up because as soon as all this started I started feeling daddy’s cock against my butt. To say that it felt gynormous would be an understatement. It felt like I was leaning against a fucking stripper pole that pulsated every 10 seconds.
That first Friday I thought I was going to faint when dad hugged me and kissed me by my bedroom before going to bed. Not until tonight when mom totally fucked herself in the living room under blanket thinking we won’t notice. When dad got so worked up that his cock spurt out some cum on his boxers and on my panties. Some pre-cum even got on my bare ass cheek because how bunched up my panties were due to so much wiggling in his lap. But when he kissed me much longer with his tongue and caressed my sensitive ass and kept on pushing his gynormous cock against my gushing mound, my panties were so fucking wet that they got stuck to my hairless mound. I don’t know what came over me but I kept my panties on for a few more minutes and bunched up the back of my panties (exposing my ass cheeks) and pressed the bunched up panty-string into my crack until I came so hard I nearly passed out. I picked up a couple drops of pre-cum off of my bare but and licked it. I quickly took off my panties and started licking the back of my panties where daddy had come. His cum tasted so intoxicating it made my head spin. I don’t know what made me think of doing that but I am not complaining.
That night, I fucked my pussy hard a couple times. Still not able to sleep I went online in search of incest stories and discovered Literotica. You can imagine my state reading stories after stories of daddy and his precious daughter and a loving mother and her daughter. I went back to bed, lifted my legs up all the way and finger fucked my pussy with one hand while gently just touching my ass hole. I came a few more times before I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
Next day I went hiking with my college friends. It was a bonding ritual as we were all in the same major. But all day I had a big happy smile on my face. I could not get home soon enough to read more online stories and fantasize how some of those stories can be brought to real life with my mom and dad. Due to work and school our weekdays are pretty much shot. But that did not stop me from reading more stories online while I rubbed my pussy. I would lie down on the bed after reading a few and finger fuck my pussy and cum several times. At one point my pussy was so sensitive from over-stimulation that once I came while I peed. That was so fucking intense. A couple nights I pretty much skipped doing all my school work because I was so fucking horny that I had to request extensions for my assignments. Something had to be done about this situation we got going in our perfect little suburban house. So I anxiously waited for the following weekend. I wondered if my mom and dad had the same feeling.
All fictional characters in the story who are involved in sexual situations and incidents are over the age of eighteen. Copyright © 2011
You could have called me a weirdo, a geek, nerd, or momma’s boy…..in fact, a lot of other kids at school did. Now you can also call me a motherfucker….
This started recently, just before I finished high school. I wasn’t into normal sports (football, basketball, baseball) but I loved the alternate sports: hiking, mountain climbing, biking. Mother even let me go sky diving twice, It freaked her out but it made me happy, so she was happy…
I have never been a social person…too much of a computer geek and a loner. My favorite past time is hiking alone for days in the wilderness. A two to five day hike in the Pacific Northwest Mountains I call home is something I try to do at least once a month. It plays hell with my grades and disapproving teachers. Mother spoils me rotten as long as I maintain a ‘B’ average or better in all the main subjects.
For my birthday, Mother finally relented and gave me a two month hike in the distant Rockies. She always worried, but suppressed her concerns, when it came to supporting my interests. However, this was something that really had her freaking out. She helped me prep because I had been begging for this for a year now. She cleared my absence from school and funded my transportation and supplies, but this came with a price -endless arguments for me to reconsider, or at least put it off until I was ancient.
To prepare for this adventure I shopped all week to get all the best and proper gear and to ensure I got everything I needed from my check list. I decided to setup camp in the backyard beforehand; always pretest your gear or you’re screwed when you need it the most.
The weekend finally came, and I started setting up my camp to make sure I had everything. I even soaked the tent with the yard sprinkler to check for any possible leaks. Mom strolled out of the back sliding door to check up on me like normal. She had a large bath towel and a bottle of sun lotion in hand as she was on her way to our pool to get some sun, and also to let me know there was lasagna baking in the stove. ETA would be about two hours.
She looked way too serious and sad, as I had never been away from home for more than a week and a half, and that was just a trip to visit the grandparents. I was expecting another argument and of course she didn’t disappoint.
I assured her that I would be fine like always, but the more I talked, the more she tried to convince me otherwise. This time something seemed a bit, well, really odd. She just stood there staring at me, arms crossed for fifteen minutes, like she was lost in thought.
After a while she finally gave up and continued on her way to get some sun. That night at dinner she brought up the subject again and asked if there wasn’t something she could do to persuade and or entice me to stay home. I looked up from my food, my fork stopping in mid-air, dripping lasagna sauce, to find Mother was actually pinching her left nipple through her dress. My eyes bugged out and I nearly choked to death on a bite of cheese…
Was she actually flirting with me?
What The Fuck? You see, I am an only child and my Dad had passed away when I was seven. Dad had been very successful in real estate and investments and left us just shy of being called rich. It had been mother and I ever since.
She is what I call radiant or regal beautiful; one of those women your mind screams at you either to worship or do naughty things to the moment you meet her. For comparison, I would have to say the closest would be that internet porn star Bryci, only mother’s a little older and a lot taller.
Unfortunately for all the horny people that cross her path, she rarely dates since dad’s death. And me being her son means I don’t even get to participate in the long list of the heartbroken. I have lusted after her since the morning I was up early quietly watching G.I Joe’s cartoon’s on her t.v in the corner of her bedroom floor since the main one in the front room wasn’t working at the time. She, not knowing I was there and not fully awake yet, had gotten up out of bed to go to the bathroom for her morning shower, naked.
She didn’t know, it but she was the inspiration for my first hard-on unfortunately I was to naive then to even know what to do about it. I have seen her try dating and socializing occasionally, but none of her would-be suitors ever make it past round one; she sends them packing with blue-balls the moment they try getting frisky…
I just know my mind and raging teenage hormones are playing tricks on me.
I cleared my throat and put my glass of milk down. “OK mom….what are you offering?” I spoke without even thinking.
“What do you want?” she reply’s.
I laughed. “I don’t know. What can you give me that I don’t already have?” Mom hesitated and gave me a wicked little smile I had never seen before. There was an awkward moment of silence. Then we both started to laugh like crazy, trying to finish our dinner.
Fuck! I thought. All the times she had caught me spying on her, or just blatantly hypnotized at the jiggle of her inverted, heart shaped, flawless ass and large breasts. Yep, I knew it, she was just totally messing with me…
After dinner I told mom I was going to my ‘camp’ and would be out there all night making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. I cleaned up my dishes in the kitchen and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said goodnight.
Early this past year I had tried summoning up the courage to kiss her on the lips and succeed, only by way of ambush. She left a hand print across my face that lasted for two days. That was the only time in my life that she ever actually struck me, making it clear: mothers and sons don’t do that kind of thing. Ok, I admit it, jamming my tongue in her mouth got me what I deserved.
But hell, my first kiss scored me six months of mental masturbation material. So worth it…..
Later, I discovered the joys of her dirty panties in the laundry hamper. I’m sure she noticed but never said anything. I could tell she felt guilty about how that slap had taken place; the two weeks of avoidance and the ‘silent treatment’ I gave her in return probably had something to do with it.
About midnight I had gone over my equipment list time and again and was laying there totally relaxed, about to turn in, when I heard a noise coming from the direction of the house. I peeked out of the tent flap and could see my mom, coffee mug in her hand, heading towards the tent. I couldn’t make out too many details from the soft yard lights, but I could see she had changed her clothes sometime after dinner and her hair was wet from a shower.
“Sweetheart, are you still awake?”
“Yeah, Ma. I’m in the tent. Come on in.”
Zip…. Mom crawled in the tent giving me a view of her magnificent dangling tits, the top three buttons on her blouse were open wide. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve gotten a glimpse of mom’s H-cups several times from a distance, but having her crawl right towards me with those big jugs swaying back and forth at point blank range was new to me. I could feel my dick start to get hard and I didn’t know what to do. I had a lantern on low so there was some light but it was just enough of a glow to make things interesting.
“Lee, I want to talk with you about you being gone for the eight weeks.”
Dear God, six times in one day! This conversation is giving me a headache and now your tits are giving me a cock-ache, I thought to myself.
“Mom, we’ve talked about this. I know what I’m doing and I will be careful!”
“I know, you’ve grown into a fine young man but I still would like you to cut your trip back to one week. I can come out and stay at the nearby ski lodge in that area and we can keep in touch by radio?
Maybe for the other seven weeks we can learn snowboarding and skiing and snow mobiles?
“Mom, I don’t need a babysitter. I can handle this. I’ve been doing trial runs without incident for the past year.”
“Ok…Ok… How about maybe I can entice you to cut your hiking to two weeks max and then spend the other six weeks with me doing all kinds of naughty fun things……”
Wait, what? I really had to stop and pause for thought on this one. “Maybe…..OK, what do you have in mind?”
With that mom locked eyes with me and gave me that wicked half-grin smile for the second time this evening. If I had to guess or explain it, the best I can come up with would be sort of, well, It would be a look of ‘Now I have you, checkmate!’
“Lee, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. You’re a man now and I have been watching you and how you have grown for years. I have also seen how you look at me and try to catch me in the shower or dressing, and we both know you do a lot of other naughty things…
On her hands and knees again, slowly, she started to unbutton the rest of her top, exposing those magnificent breasts swelling over the top of a sheer white, lace half-bra. She crawled up to me and placed her right hand gently against my cheek and leaned in, her lips breathing hotly only an inch from mine.
Well, if you will agree to cut your trip way back and postpone the long version of this dangerous forest adventure till after you’re twenty one, I am willing to give you the only thing we both know is at the top of your Christmas wish list……ME!
Hell, even the ladies on your favorite porn sites on your computer you don’t think I know about…they all resemble me.
With that mom leaned back on her feet, unbuttoned, and slid off her blouse. Sliding her index fingers under the lacing of the half-bra, she pulled up both pale pink nipples, bringing them into clear view. She started rolling her nipples between her fingers with light pinches and tugs for effect.
Slowly she pulled her black skirt up from her knees and sat back stretching out her legs on either side of me. ‘Oh My Fucking God! No panties- my mind screamed! She was exposing to me her really, and I mean really tiny little pink pussy and the trimmed tuft of black fur above it.
“Lee, I know you’ve been trying to catch me naked forever. I have seen the lump in your jeans when I’m swimming or sunbathing. You have quite a package, and if you are willing to split your vacation with me I will let you do anything to me that you have ever wanted…. starting right now. Do we have a deal?”
I sat there in shock and came in my jeans a little without even touching myself. I didn’t know what to say.
“Lee, I asked you if we have a deal, she repeated.
I tried answering but my voice came out in a strangled long moan. So I just slowly nodded my head ‘yes’ and almost by instinct started moving toward my mother as she lay down on her back and elbows. She stretched out before me on the sleeping bag and, sliding her hand under her skirt, started playing with her glistening, already moist pussy . I watched as a little dribble of white creamy juice started running out of her pussy down between her cheeks over her little cherry chocolate kiss.
“Lee, take your pants off. I want to see what I’m getting in return.”
I slid out from the sleeping bag and peeled off my jeans, I wasn’t wearing underwear, so my hard cock sprang to attention. My mother’s eyes widened as I started to move in between her legs. I still couldn’t talk, but I knew I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go by without taking full advantage of it.
Now it was mothers turn to go speechless. She just groaned,”Oh fuck! Holy…..Damn! Lee, I knew you were small as a baby, but my you’ve grown some since last I looked. I’d guess that as a solid perfect seven, am I right? God has blessed us both this night. I’m going to enjoy taking care of that big tool of yours. Come to Momma.”
With that I moved over and lowered myself in between her legs, sliding my hand up softly along her thigh. She reached down and gently caressed my cock and balls for a few strokes and pointed the head of my cock at the opening of her pussy. She tickled the length of her slit with the tip and as I eased myself forward, she started to moan. Shit! Mother’s long unused pussy was ridiculously tight without lube. I actually had to force the first two inches in her, holding for a few seconds, then backing out to try again harder. She pressed against my shoulder with her hand to make me pause while she shifted to adjust to me.
“Easy sweetie, not so rough! Is this your first time doing this? I mean, have any of your lady friends at school let you do this yet?
I couldn’t answer that one; too much embarrassment! My eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t have to say anything; she could read my eyes.
It’s Ok baby, there’s a first time for everyone and God, I’m so happy to be yours. You only have to remember two things right now, sweetie. She paused, then said, “I’m a person, not a thing, not a toy to abuse; and second, no matter who you’re with in the future, whatever you do, only do it with love. Do you understand?
I just nodded .
She tilted her head forward and reached behind my head with her free hand to pull me more towards her. It was my first proper kiss. She slid her tongue into my mouth slowly, teasingly, for a very long time until she surprised me by locking her ankles behind me and pulling me fully into her; returning her child to her womb and changing both our lives forever.
Fast forward three hours later.-
Fuck……OH! Fucking…GOD! The energizer bunny doesn’t have shit on you! She was yelling. OH, no! Don’t stop. Oh…fuck! Please, don’t stop. I’ve waited too long for this, for you to pull out now. Shove that big cock back in me again. I want to feel all of it deep in my cunt!”
Holy FUCK! she screamed, “Momma’s addicted to your love!”
I hadn’t said a word, but mother was getting the benefit of thousands of hours of researching late night, explicit, high definition, internet porn. Somewhere after I think her seventeenth, and my third time in her pussy, I lost count of her orgasms.
Despite both our natural mixed lubricants, my cock was being rubbed raw and numb, so I pulled out, reached over, and grabbed my shirt to slowly wipe her pussy clean and to calm things down. Then I crawled up next to her, wanting to try something special. I just lay there face to face without moving a muscle. She gave me a quizzical look and was about to speak but I kissed her quiet, and supported the back of her head with my right hand. Sliding my left hand down from a gentle caress on her chin all along between her breasts.
“Mother, please trust me,” I said, and slid my two middle fingers down into her wetness.
I curled them upwards and explored for the little spongy button. Her entire body spasm-ed involuntarily when I found it. She yelped with a ‘what the hell was that’ look on her face. This time I’m sure that wicked grin was on my face, now. I kissed her and whispered, “Mother, please relax and share my breath.”
I waited until she calmed again. Then I got rough, jerking my hand up and down violently with lightning speed, my two fingers inside her, rubbing her G-spot. She cried out, twisted and heaved in full body spasms, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Over and over, multiple orgasms tore through her like a magnitude 20.0 earthquake. Her toes curled and her hands dug into the sleeping bag, but that didn’t save her from my mercilessly enforced rapture.
She growled in an animalistic way I can’t even describe. Her eyes shot open wide, every muscle in her body straining. Her first two attempts to scream came out soundless. Then she gasped in a deep breath and screamed out “FUCK!”
Mother’s clear honey started spraying out over my hand and arm, her legs, and the sleeping bag.
She cried out, confused, “What the hell…How? FUCK, OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG……HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I stopped moving and removed my hand, letting her recover a bit. She broke out in a giggle fit.
Mother, would you like another? I whispered to her.
YES! she begged.
So I repeated this on her ravaged body five more times, totally ruining the sleeping bag, until there was nothing left in her. She curled sideways in the fetal position, aftershocks racking her body for the next ten minutes. A few more small squirts sprayed out and dribbled down her butt cheek to the bed. For the longest time she didn’t say a word. She just had tears on her cheeks, then she rolled over and cuddled up next to me, wrapping her arms around me, holding on to me for dear life, squashing my face between her massive boobs and wrapping a leg over my hips till we both fell asleep.
“Well, Lee, I guess we have a deal about the vacation?”
I looked up and removed my suckling lips from her raw tender nipple. “Just one change. How about I make it a two-day hike instead.”
We both laughed as I felt my sore, but still buried, cock start to harden deep in mom’s wet, abused pussy. We weren’t fucking again she just wouldn’t let me take it out of her. At this rate I never will be able to go hiking again.
I rolled mother over and ever so softly kissed my way down her spine, sliding my tongue down to her ass cheeks with licks and nibbles, using both hands to spread her cheeks wide open. I blew several hot and cold breaths onto her cherry chocolate kiss and watched her moan and squirm. She raised her hips and ass up to my face. I then kissed it with all my love.
That whole morning, until late that evening consisted of sleep, food and even more sleep for us both. Later that night in her room, after making slow tongue-love to her pussy and ass, she let me take her anal cherry. We made slow love and I came deep in her tight little ass; once on her carpet, as she didn’t want to get lube and juices all over the bed, and the second time during a shower.
Standing on her king size bed I turned her head up, pulling my cock out of her mouth. She whimpered, stretching her lips forward to reach towards my cock for more. I locked eyes with her and said softly. “Mother I have a new Christmas wish list. One day soon you’re going to marry me.”
Her eyes went wide. She smiled for the third time with that wicked checkmate half-grin. She reached up and dug her nails into my butt cheeks, pulling me forward, right back into her scorching hot mouth. She then began to suckle and devour me, deep into her throat, until my legs buckled out from under me and I fell down to her bed. Her mouth never let go, trying to drink my heart and soul out through my cock.
When I regained consciousness a few minutes later, after imploding in her throat, I decided that she had succeeded.
That was the moment I knew I didn’t just love my Mother, I was in love with Mother.
When her lips finally let go of me, she looked up into my eyes with that smile of hers and said:
To understand this story you must read Lovers X Two. Thanks!
“Honey what are we going to do? Obviously were in love, but we could get arrested.”
“I don’t care about that, I would still have had the chance to be with you and I love you.”
“I love you so much; I don’t deserve a man like you.” Mom said starting to weep. We kissed passionately and made love again.
The rest of the day went as planned and we pretended to be a couple. We’d make out in the theater while it would show pre-views, I’d rub her pussy while we ate our picnic and we fucked in the bathroom and Magianos. So it was pretty awesome.
When we got home we took a shower together and then lay on the couch. We cuddled while watching TV; I was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. After about an hour we both went up to her room and fell asleep.
The next morning mom was watching me sleep, plus she was naked. “Want to have a go?” she asked.
“Oh yea.” I replied. She looked as giddy as a teenager. She lay down on her back while I threw off my clothes. When I was naked she said
“I want to suck your cock, and then I want you to fuck my ass.” I was astounded, so I nodded my head yes.
I lay down on the bed and she asked if I was ready and I nodded, then she put it in her mouth. It felt amazing; I pulled her over to me and started to lick her vagina. We were in a 69, she tasted so sweet.
After about fifteen minutes I said “Oh baby I’m Cumming!” When I came she drank it all, then about a minute later she came and I drank all her sweet juice.
“Are you ready to fuck my ass?” she asked looking at my still hard cock. “You look ready.” She said with a giggle. After she said that she went into a doggy style position so I lined my dick up with her ass hole.
“Are you ready for me to take your black cherry?” I asked.
“Oh yea, I want you to take my ass virginity. I want you to be the first in there since I was your first.”
I whispered I loved you and then I stuck it in. She was so tight; it was hard getting it in there. But when I was fully in mom said “Leave it, I want to get used to it up there.” I waited about a minute until she nodded. I pulled it out and gently pushed back in; I did this a few more times until I was pounding her like a machine gun. I felt like I would cum within seconds but I fought it for about ten minutes until I came in her ass. “Thank you baby, that was awesome.” Mom told me.
“Want to take a shower with me?” with that she nodded and we took a shower.
When we were done there was a knock on the door, it was my mom’s friend Susan. I opened the door and she came in. When mom was done getting ready she came down to see her. They hugged and mom gestured her to the kitchen.
After a couple minutes mom called for me to come to the kitchen. When I walked in Susan eyed me with what looked to me like desire. “I told Sue here about our encounters. Don’t worry she won’t tell, she has a special relationship like ours, but with her brother and now they’re unofficially married.” I knew Susan married young, and a guy from her home town. I also knew she had three kids.
“So you and Joe are siblings?” I asked.
“Oh yes, we’ve been in love since we were children. When it all started he caught your mom and I masturbating together. We were what eighteen?”
“Oh yes I remember that day, he went to you and started to lick your ass hole and you didn’t notice until you came.” My mom said with a laugh.
“Wait you and my mom were lovers?”
“Oh yes, we loved to lick each other. The reason I was here for a week after your father passed was to make your mom feel good if you know what im saying.”
“Oh yes it is. Why don’t we show him what we do next time I visit, because I have to go pick up Josh from school?” She waved us goodbye and left.
My mom looked at me and asked “Want to fuck?” all I did was nod and we were fucking on the kitchen table.
After a while we moved it up to the bedroom, where we continued our love making. After I came for the third time, mom said “I think you should move your stuff in here, so we can make this our room.” I replied with a nod and said we’d do it tomorrow. The night ended with mom falling asleep on my chest, for about an hour I just watched her sleep then I followed her and fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up with my dick poking my mom in the ass. Obviously she was awake because she said “You’re going to have to kiss me first before you want to fuck me in the ass.”
“Is that a possibility?” I asked.
“Most definitely, but first I want to move you in here then you can ram my tight ass with that big hard cock of yours.”
“I’ll move in here right now.” When I said it I jumped out of the bed and ran for my room I grabbed my pillow, clothes, and my lap top. When I came back mom was on top of the cover, still naked for our love making.
“Are you ready to ram your cock into you mommy’s tight ass hole?”
I replied with “Are you ready to take you son’s rock hard cock into your tight ass hole?” she replied with a nod and gestured me forward with her right index finger.
When I got onto the bed mom and I kissed passionately, she then lay on her back and took her beautiful ass cheeks into the air. We kissed again when I put my dick to the opening. I looked in her eyes and nodded she nodded back and I pushed. After about three minutes she screamed,
“Oh yes son! Fuck your momma’s tight ass. Fuck your mommy… fuck her hard.” With that I slipped two fingers into my mom’s pussy she moaned with ecstasy. “Oh baby don’t stop im Cumming, im Cumming so hard.”
“Oh mom I’m Cumming too!” I exclaimed.
“Cum in your mommy’s ass hole. I want your spunk dripping out of my ass hole.” With that I came a huge load all into her ass.
For the rest of the day we stayed at home. We did everything together; when we took our shower I licked her pussy, when she did the laundry I fucked her in the cunt, when we watched TV I licked her pussy because I didn’t like Dr, Phil. The funny part was it was talking about children having sex with their parents so I said “Ironic isn’t it.” She laughed. It was the greatest day of my life.
After I mouth fucked mom for more than an hour we went to the bedroom to go to sleep, before we went to sleep mom and I did a 69 and it was awesome. When we were done she came up to me and we made out for close to half an hour then she fell asleep on top of me as I pummeled her pussy.
When I woke up the next morning, I found mom still asleep so I went down to her pussy and started to lick. She woke up moaning and screaming my name in ecstasy. I then moved down to her puckered ass hole and began to probe it with my tongue. “Oh yea baby lick mommy’s ass hole!” she screamed.
When we were done I said “Mom do you want to have breakfast with me?”
“I would love too.”
We went to this little breakfast place that has the best apple pancake you would ever taste, when we were done I brought her to blockbuster to get a movie to watch, and she picked Sleepless in Seattle because it is her favorite movie. I bought it instead of renting it so she wouldn’t have to rent it all the time; she has rent Sleepless in Seattle eight times. When we got home we cuddled up on the couch and watched her movie, I didn’t’ really watch the movie I only watched mom and basked in her beauty.
I knew that I was in love.
(This is part 7 of a series; you must read the other 6 parts first! Enjoy! )
I slid out from under my parent’s bed and tried to compose myself as best as I could. I knew both my mother and father would be off to work, but I still stayed as quiet as possible as I grabbed my crumpled clothes and snuck my way back into my own bedroom. I slowly crawled into bed and cuddled up under my covers. My body was sore from head to toe from sleeping under that bed all night. As I lay and think of last night I feel familiar pains and aches, some from my mother’s sexual acts and some just from simply sleeping uncomfortably. My asshole finally started to feel somewhat better from her favorite toy two nights ago. Even so my dick and my balls really have been taking a beating all week and it’s all hitting me now, I decided to take a quick nap before a nice shower. As I drift off I grab my phone and send my mother a simple text message that read, “…<3..."
I woke up about forty minutes later to the sound of my phone beeping. I grabbed it and seen two missed texts from Mom. “Aww… <3 to you too baby...can we finish this convo later, my hands are still trembling from the great orgasm your father gave me last night." I knew she was only saying this to get me upset and it worked, she loved to tease me and not admit how wet I make her. I figured I'd play along and humor her so I opened the next message. "Honey...why aren't you answering me, I'm still so horny from your daddy...c'mon talk to me!"
I decided to play her little game…”Sorry mom I was sleeping, I had a rough night last night and it sounded like you did too.” I started my day while waiting for her response, I grabbed some clean clothes and made my way over to the bathroom and ran my shower water. I needed the water hot today, hotter than usual. As I slid into the shower I felt all the muscle on my body start to relax. I ran the soap slowly over myself and just enjoyed the feeling as long as I could. As I let the water run over my face I heard my phone that was sitting on the closed toilet bowl go off. Just hearing my mom’s text message sent a rush to my groin and I felt my cock hang slightly heavier. My impatience got the better of me and I finished up my shower and rushed to my phone. I opened her message that read…”Yes honey, mom had a real rough night…I just never felt so full and loved. I felt like there was something new and wonderful inside me while I sucked your fat dicked father…xoxo.”
I stood there naked in the bathroom half wet, I flipped on the camera of my phone and with one hand held my cock from its underside in the palm of my hand and took the picture with my other hand. I sent her the picture and titled it… “New and wonderful?” I dressed and ate knowing she was working and it could take some time to get a message back. Finally as I set my dirty dishes into the sink I heard the phone beep and I ran over to it. When I opened the phone I became slightly flush once I realized it was a picture mail. As the picture downloaded I read the title…”Hmmm…in a meeting at work… Bye Babe.” Then the picture took over the screen. It was a weird angle but after much inspection I realized mom must have held the camera outwards and took the picture of herself. In the picture I had seen a black board, some chairs and people standing around her. I zoomed in on her body in the picture and that’s when I seen it, the slightest hint of a hard nipple poking through her tight red button down suit shirt.
I had the day off so I decided I’d get my daily sample for the doctor myself and drop it off now. I was pretty sure the pretext of my medical condition was gone now between me and my mother and I figured why waste more of her time going to the doctors and such. However I knew I’d have to see this out with the doctor so he and his office didn’t get suspicious or think all of this was in vein. After a quick an non dramatic session in the family bathroom I collected my sample and did what I had to do at the doctors. I tried my best to give positive vibes to the doctor and make him feel like I was doing much better. I jumped back in my car and sent mom a quick text…” Just dropped sample off, doctor’s happy I’m doing better…he said he will call when he gets some definite results.’
I lay on the sofa and watched TV till about 4pm and anxiously awaited my mother’s arrival. I Get this feeling right before I know I’m going to see her, it’s like my dick gets butterflies. I finally heard her car arrive, I quickly went face down flat on the sofa and slightly pulled my boxers down to show my ass to her. I heard the key turn in the door and that was the sound that got my dick at full length. I laid my head sideways so I could catch her reaction. As I stared at the slowly opening door mom walked in with a handful of grocery bags and immediately looked my way. I stared at her while I sported a big grin from ear to ear, But I slowly started to panic when I seen mom turn pale white and stomp over to me and drop her bags halfway towards me. As she was two feet from me all I heard from her mouth was…”Cum Fast!!!’
With that mom got on her knees and in frenzy grabbed my dick and jammed it in between the gap between the two sofa cushions. With both hands she grabbed fistfuls of my asscheeks and spread them as wide as possible. I felt the stretch of my asshole as she pulled them apart roughly. Before I could even ask what was happening she buried her tongue as hard and rudely as she could into my hole and licked every which was possible. I swear I think she tried to hit my prostate with her tongue, I realized there must have been a reason for all this panic and then I heard the car trunk slam. I started to hump the sofa in abandonment realizing my dad must have come home with mom. All this thinking and humping was going in slow motion but it couldn’t have been more than ten seconds and all the while mom never lifted her head to speak. The whole time she swirled and spun her tongue in and outside every part of my asshole. I totally loosened and relaxed my ass and felt her tongue sink in even deeper, her nose was pressed up against my skin.
I felt my orgasm approaching and kept my dick deep in the cushion gap. That’s when I heard it…”Hey I’m coming in with the bags!’ I realized this wasn’t my dad but my next door neighbor Danny. He must have seen my mom struggling with the bags and offered to help her. I was just about to cum deep inside the pillows when my mom and I both heard Danny cross the threshold of our front door entrance. Mom did one more deep swirl with her tongue then removed it with a plop sound. She sat beside me on the sofa, grabbed the fleece cover that was hanging off the back of the sofa and covered my important parts with it. I turned my head so I was laying face down and stopped my humping. My cock was so deep in the pillow and I felt the cum right at the at the tip screaming to shoot out.
“Sorry Dan, you know Phil…lazy as ever.” While saying this I felt moms hand Snake up my back thigh and search its way to my ass. “Oh you don’t have to tell me… I spend my whole morning trying to wake my two kids’ up.” Then “Ughh Mmmmm”…I moaned into the pillow as mom entered my ass with her pointer finger at the same time holding a conversation with our neighbor. “Let me just wake him up and send him to his room and then I’ll get you the recipe for your wife.’ With moms free hand she shook my slightly awake and kept the pretense of my sweet mom. “Phil baby… C’mon go up to bed we have company.” Her finger digging into my prostate with all her might was actually saying…”Cum in the sofa… and get the Fuck out before we get caught!” I did just what her finger asked me too. I started Cumming into the sofa and felt moms finger ease out of my ass; she must have felt the throbbing of my orgasm on her finger inside me. I was careful not to jerk or spasm, I let the cum flow freely from my balls into the sofa.
Once I was done Cumming I needed a few seconds for my dick to deflate before I could get up and walk upstairs. In the mean time I acted like I was slowly waking and seemed surprised to see mom and Dan. “There he is… hey kiddo your moms been trying to wake you.” Mom got off the sofa and stood next to our neighbor. I felt confident my dick was deflated enough so casually as I pulled the sheet off me I pulled my pants up.
I decided not to look at the sofa or my crotch and instead read moms face to see if we left any evidence. As I shook Danny’s hand and started to head upstairs I glanced at mom. She just finished her glance toward the sofa; she looked in my eyes then down to my crotch and back in my eyes. She lifted her pointer finger to her mouth, with a satisfied smirk said “Dinner will be ready in an hour…Hun.” …It was then I knew we were in the clear.