Posts Tagged ‘mother son sex’

2: The Next Day



NOTE: A special thanks goes to estragon for his copy edit. His time and suggestions are invaluable.







RECAP: I highly suggest you read part one if you want to know how I seduced my sweet prim and proper Mother. If you don’t want to or already have and can’t remember the plot, here is a brief recap:



I am a college student who is addicted to MILF’s. When I came home for the summer, I spied my Mother fucking some slob who was blackmailing her and decided to save her. After saving her, I decided I had to make Mommy mine.



This story takes place the following day, after I had fucked my Mother, Elaine, for the first time.



***



MAKING MOMMY MINE 2: THE NEXT DAY



I woke up after a long sleep alone. I lay in bed for a few minutes as I replayed last night’s events in my head. I had fucked my Mother. It was amazing, the ultimate conquest for any man. As I rubbed my eyes, I remembered falling asleep together and noticed she was no longer in bed.



I looked at the clock it was 12:30 in the afternoon. I wondered how she would react the day after. I assumed she would say it was a big mistake and s forth, but I was determined to make sure this new relationship continued in full force. I got up, still naked, walked to my room, grabbed a robe and went downstairs.



When I reached the kitchen, I was surprised to see my Mom at the kitchen table visiting with Hannah. Hannah, Mom’s best friend, and the sexy MILF who I was fucking in the ass just two days ago, in the livingroom when my Mom walked in catching us. I was slightly worried I had ended a lifelong friendship. Apparently, I needed not to worry. My Mom greeted, “Good afternoon sweetie.” She got up and gave me a peck on the cheek.



I looked slightly confused as she explained, “I invited Hannah over to apologize. I overreacted and did not want to lose one of my dearest friends.”



Hannah, who I instantly noticed was wearing black stockings and a sundress, said, “Yes, we have kissed and made up.”



The innuendo didn’t go unnoticed as my Mom added, “I need to go to the washroom, you guys can visit or whatever.”



She left and I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down still trying to figure out what the Hell was going on. Hannah stated matter-of-factly, “So you fucked your mother last night?”



Coffee sprayed out of my mouth and I began choking. Hannah got up and patted me on the back like I was a baby. I asked in a state of shock, “Mom told you about last night?”



Hannah began to massage my shoulders as she said softly, “Do you know how long I have wanted to fuck your Mom?”



Her hands slid down my chest as I processed this stunning revelation; my cock already as hard as a rock. She moved around and dropped to her knees in front of me. I sat memorized a mixture of eager anticipation and slight bewilderment. As she opened my robe, she saw my bulging erection contained in my underwear and teased, “My, my, my, what do we have here?” She unleashed my stiff erection and it instantly stood at attention in front of this beautiful MILF, and my mother’s best friend. As she grabbed it with her left hand, she asked mischievously, “Is this erection because of me on my knees ready to swallow you whole or because of the thought of your prim and proper Mommy between my legs?”



I looked at her and before I could respond she deep throated my firm cock. I instantly let out a moan as this hot MILF slut devoured my dick. She continued the fast paced assault with impressive consistency and within only a couple minutes I could feel my cum beginning to bubble. I grunted, “I’m coming, slut.” Hannah continued bobbing up and down seemingly desperate to swallow my load, which followed. Like a good MILF cocksucker, she kept up the pace making sure to swallow every last drop of my cum.



Once done, she got off her knees, smiled at and said, “So can I use your Mother as my little lez slut?”



I answered, surprised by the question, “I doubt she would be into that.”



Hannah smiled, ” Oh, I don’ t know about that. She just fucked her son.”



“Touché,” I responded, trying to figure out a way to make this hot, but unrealistic, request to happen.



“So do you want to watch your Mom become my little duke?” my sexy MILF slut purred naughtily.



My cock already beginning to rise again, I supported, honestly and curiously, “I would love to see that.”



Hannah stood up, “Well then watch this. Your Mother is as submissive as they come and trust me she won’t say no.” She kissed me hard, shoving her tongue in my mouth. As she stroked my cock again, she broke the kissed and called, “Elaine get down here.”



A few seconds later, my Mother came downstairs and returned to the kitchen. “Did you two have time to talk?”



Hannah shrugged, her words dripping with innuendo, “Not really, but I did get a mouthful.”



My Mom blushed but said nothing.



Hannah grabbed my Mom’s hand gently, “You really hurt me the other day.”



My Mom quickly replied apologetically, “I know, I told you I was sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you.”



Hannah, in a firm and dominant voice I had never heard from her, explained, “You need to be punished for what you did.”



“What?” my Mom said clearly confused and unaware where this was leading.



“Come with me,” Hannah instructed, pulling my Mother into the living room.



Mom blindly followed still completely oblivious to what was about to transpire.



Hannah sat on the couch, pulled up her dress, opened her legs and ordered, “Elaine, starting right now our relationship is going to change. I have wanted to fuck you for years but thought you were way to prim and proper for such sexual deviance. But now that I know you are willing to fuck your son like a whore, well you obviously aren’t as goody-goody as you portray yourself to be.”



“Hannah,” my Mother began to say, I assume with some sort of defensive explanation, before being cut off by her best friend.



“Shut up, slut!” Hannah roared. “Don’t you ever interrupt your Mistress again!”



“Mistress?” my Mom repeated, in stunned confusion.



“Yes, Mistress!” Hannah confirmed, her voice losing the anger, but not the dominant, don’t fuck with me attitude. She continued, me watching in fascinated awe, my cock already fully at mass, “I own you. You will do what I say, when I say, with who I say. Is that understood?”



My Mother, tears running down her cheeks, tried to be logical with her best friend. “Hannah, be reasonable. I am not a lesbian.”



“Yesterday you weren’t a son-fucker either,” Hannah replied obscenely.



“Hannah!” my Mom said mortified.



“Son-fucker!” Hannah sarcastically mocked.



My Mom began to turn around to leave when Hannah said, “Stop right there, my slut.”



To my surprise my Mother stopped and with pleading eyes and tone, begged, “Hannah, please stop. You are my best friend.”



“Yes Elaine, you are my best friend too. And now we will be even better friends, friends with benefits. Plus you will also be my little lez slave,” Hannah explained. Hannah stared at my Mom, as after years of equality between the two, the balance of power shifted right in front of my eyes.



I watched amused as I began to believe my Mom would break, just as Hannah predicted, just as she had with me the night before. It was obvious that deep down my Mother was submissive and it was unlikely she would stand-up to Hannah when Hannah gave the sexual order that was soon to come. The staring match and the long silence that came with it were finally broken when Hannah went for the sexual kill. “Elaine, crawl between my legs and beg to lick your new Mistress’s pussy.”



Mom looked at me, seemingly begging for support; instead she got the opposite. I added to the humiliation as I agreed, “Mom you allowed some fat fuck to dominate you forever and you gave only a lame-ass resistance to submitting to me. I think Hannah is right. You are a submissive little,” I paused, unsure if I could call my Mom such a demeaning and derogatory word. Finally after a bit of thought, I went for the juggler, “slut.”



I could see my Mom’s facial expression change from pleading to shock at my harsh words. She looked away from me and back to Hannah. She seemed to really be considering her options. I would have loved to be able to get inside her head and see what she was thinking and feeling.



Hannah, clearly confident she was going to win, explained, “Elaine don’t pretend you don’t want to submit. You know you do. I know you do. Even Jeremy knows you do.”



Tears dripped down my Mom’s cheeks as she whispered, her tone portraying her defeat, “Please, Hannah….”



Hannah showing no signs of mercy ordered, “Hurry up Elaine, I don’t have all day. Plus I really want to see Jeremy fuck his Mother.”



My Mom quickly looked back at me. I gave her a knowing smirk and a subtle head nod, which suggested she should do as she was told. She just as quickly looked away and much to my, and Hannah’s glee, fell to her knees and head down, avoiding eye contact, crawled to her best friend. Once between Hannah’s legs, she froze unsure what to do next. It was entertaining to watch my Mother in such forbidden and uncharted territory.



Hannah looked at me triumphantly first before looking down at my Mother. She asked absurdly politely, “Do you want to eat my pussy, Elaine?”



My mother did not look up and said something so quietly I could not make it out.



Hannah ordered, “I can’t hear you, my slut. Speak louder.”



In a slightly louder squeak, through tears of humiliation, she answered, “Yes.”



“Yes what,” Hannah tested.



My Mother looked up for the first time, a look of utter confusion displayed on her face. She sputtered in a question like tone, “Um, yes please?”



Hannah looked at me and said dismissively, “Jeremy, your Mother seems a little slow on the uptake. Care to help her out?”



I walked over and sat down on the couch beside Hannah and very close to my obedient Mother as I explained, “The correct answer Mommy Dearest is yes, Mistress.”



My Mom glanced at me with a look that showed a mixture of fear, embarrassment, shyness and lust before finally returning her gaze to Hannah and repeated my words, “Yes, Mistress.”



Hannah playing the game extremely well teased her soon to be sub. “Yes, Mistress, what?”



I could tell my Mom’s anger was burning inside her as she had always hated to be corrected even in the slightest. But although I knew she was furious, her words that came out of her mouth were gentle and submissive. “Yes, Mistress, can I please you?”



“And how do you suggest to do that?” Hannah asked, pushing every button my Mother possibly had.



My Mom’s cheeks went dark red as she said, surprising me even, and clearly frustrated by the game her best friend was playing, “Any fucking thing you want.”



Not even remotely surprised by my Mom’s declaration, Hannah approved, “That’s much better, Elaine. I think you are going to make a very good sub.”



Hannah attempting to control and humiliate my Mom even more, lifted up her right foot and moved it to her best friend’s mouth. She ordered, “Suck my toes through my stockings, Elaine.”



I watched as my Mother obeyed the order and began taking her friend’s toes into her mouth. My cock was eager to get involved, but I resisted as I watched the submission of my Mother. Like last night, once my Mother submitted and allowed herself to have the sexual joy she desperately wanted and needed, she really got into the submission. She seemed to saviour each toe individually, treating each one like a tiny cock. The scene was incredibly hot and lasted over five minutes as my Mom individually pleased all ten toes.



Once done, Hannah now flushed and horny asked, “Have you ever eaten pussy before?”



My Mom shook her head no.



Hannah smiled, “Well this really is a weekend of firsts then.” After a slight pause to let that verbal shot simmer, she asked, “Do you want to eat my pussy, Elaine.”



My mom was clearly mortified by the humiliation, but I could tell from yesterday also horny, as she responded, almost in a whisper, “Yes.” Just as Hannah opened her mouth to correct her, Mom corrected herself, “Yes, Mistress, I want to eat your pussy.”



“Good girl,” Hannah purred, reached forward, and pulled my Mother into further sin.



I watched in voyeuristic fascination. Even after seducing her last night, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this.



I pulled my cock out and Hannah reached for it and began to give me a gentle hand job. She also began to moan from my Mother’s tongue. Hannah then began to get animated. “That’s it Elaine, you are a natural little cunt- licker,” and “Keep licking slut,” and “Faster lez, faster.” After a few minutes of this naughty scene, Hannah asked, “Slut, are you horny?”



My Mom, face shiny, looked up and saw Hannah still stroking my cock. “Yes, Mistress, I am really fucking horny.”



Hannah asked, “So you want to get fucked?”



“Yes, Mistress, desperately.”



“By your son?”



“Yes, Mistress. I want my son to fuck me.”



“You understand that I own you for now on?”



“Yes, Mistress,” my Mother reluctantly accepted.



“Jeremy, do you want to fuck your Mommy while she eats my pussy?”



“What do you think?” I asked.



Hannah instructed, “Get naked, slut.”



My Mom, horny enough that her inhibitions were gone, stood up and unbuckled her belt and pulled off her jeans. She hastily tossed off her t-shirt, bra and underwear and stood before Hannah and me naked.



“Get on all fours, my slave,” Hannah ordered.



My Mother obeyed like a good slut and without further instructions began licking Hannah’s pussy again. When I didn’t immediately fuck my Mom, Hannah suggested, “Jeremy, your Mommy desperately needa a good hard fucking. Now get behind her and fuck our slut.”



I stood up; my nine iron ready for t-off. I got behind my Mom, slapped her ass and asked, “Mommy, ready to be fucked by your son again?”



I expected at least a little resistance or reluctance, but instead got full compliance. “Yes, Jeremy, fuck your Mommy. Fuck her hard.”



Not one to disobey, I slid my cock easily into my Mom’s wet, but still tight, pussy. She instantly moaned and began to say something, but her words were muffled by Hannah’s pussy, Hannah having pulled her best friend deep between her legs. Hannah smiled at me as she rubbed her pussy all over my Mom’s face. I pounded my Mom hard and deep, pushing my Mother’s face deeper into my other MILF slut’s cunt. I never slowed down as I drilled into my Mother’s cunt hard and fast. My Mother quit licking her best friend and bellowed, “Oh fuck, Jeremy, I’m coming, harder Jeremy, make Mommy come, make her come, yes, yes, yes….”



The scene was so erotically sinful, so morally disgusting, that I knew I would not last long. Hannah pulled my Mother back into her cunt and Mom began to lick feverously as I continued fucking my Mother like the whore she was. Within a couple more minutes of hardcore licking by my Mother I heard Hannah scream, “I’m coming.” My Mom squeezed my dick with her cunt muscles in a way no woman ever has smiling my cock so smoothly that I exploded my cum in her a few seconds after Hannah came on my Mom’s face. I kept pumping until every last drop filled her before pulling out.



My Mom, finally got up off her knees and apparently having come to her senses after her orgasm, apologized profusely, “I’m sorry, Jeremy. This shouldn’t have happened.”



Hannah laughed and said, “Oh Elaine, this is just the beginning. Go and get Jeremy hard again. I am not leaving here until I get his cock in me.”



My Mom looked like she was about to say something but instead fell back to her knees and took my slightly limp cock in my mouth. Unlike most cocksuckers, she took her time. Using her tongue with teasing expertise, she had me stiff in a couple of minutes.



Hannah broke the incestuous debauchery as she ordered, “Elaine get on the ground and on your back.”



My Mother took my cock out of her mouth gave me a look I could not even begin to read. Was she mad? Sorry? Horny? As I attempted to read her thoughts, she let go off my hard cock and obeyed the instructions.



Hannah got out of the rest of her clothes and straddled my Mother’s face. I watched my Mom awkwardly eat her best friend’s pussy for a couple of minutes until Hannah stood back up and returned to the couch. She spread her legs wide and said, “Jeremy, come fuck me.”



Not one to ever refuse pussy, I walked over my Mother and between the legs of the sexy MILF. Ignoring any sort of foreplay, I thrust my cock into her. Having already come twice, I knew this would be a lengthy fuck session. I started slow, but soon picked up my rhythm as Hannah begged to be fucked harder.



After a few minutes of hard fucking, Hannah ordered, “Slut, get over here and lick my clit as your son fucks me.”



My Mom who had still been on the ground the whole time, seemingly watching, crawled up on the couch and began licking Hannah’s clit as I continued fucking the sexy MILF. Having my Mother’s face so close and doing such naughty things had my mind spinning and I decided to take control. I pulled out of Hannah’s warm cunt and shoved my cock into my Mom’s mouth. I fucked her face for a few strokes before burying my cock back into Hannah. I repeated fucking Hannah and then my Mother’s face for the next few minutes, keeping both myself and Hannah on the brink of complete sexual bliss, but never over it.



I no longer saw my Mother as a Mother, but rather as just one more hot MILF to please me. With such a philosophy in my head, a naughty thought popped in my mind, one final way to humiliate and dominate my Mom. I pulled my cock out and face fucked my Mom for a good minute, holding her head as I pumped in and out. I pulled out and ordered, “Mommy, lick Hannah’s asshole for me, get it ready for my big cock.”



My Mom looked at me with a look of disgust. I sternly explained, “Mommy, Hannah thinks she owns you now and she is welcome to use you as she sees fit. But when I am home, I am the man of the house for you, Hannah and every other slut I decide to bring home. Is that understood?”



My Mom, tears welling in her eyes, whispered, “Jeremy, I…”



“Do you ever want this cock again?” I asked, slapping her face with my stiff dick.



“Yes,” she whispered, clearly humiliated by her wanton desires.



“Good, then don’t ever hesitate when I give you an order, understood?”



“Yes,” she repeated.



“Now, pull Hannah’s ass cheeks apart and lick it.”



My Mom reluctantly obeyed as she repositioned herself between her best friend. Hannah looked back making eye contact with me. Her smile said it all. My Mother awkwardly licked Hannah’s ass cheeks for a couple of minutes while I stood back and enjoyed the show. Deciding it was time to make it more extreme, I went behind my Mom and without any warning, slid my cock into her wet pussy. I grabbed her hips and began to thrust as deep as I could into her, shoving her face deeper into her best friend’s ass. Her whimpers of pleasure were muffled by Hannah’s ass cheeks. The scene was fucking hot and I had to slow down to not shoot another wad up my Mom’s cunt.



I pulled out of my Mom who whimpered, “No, Jeremy, put it back in.”



I slapped her ass hard and said, “I am the one who gives the orders around here. Move your ass, I am going to fuck Hannah’s ass now. While I do, you may sit on the floor like a good girl and watch.”



My Mom obeyed, clearly horny, humiliated and disappointed. I went behind Hannah and rubbed my cock up and down her ass crack. Hannah, used to my cock in her tight ass, pushed back trying to get my cock in her. I continued teasing her until she begged, “Fuck Jeremy, please just fuck my ass.”



“You can do better than that, my slut.”



Hannah, clearly horny, quickly got on her knees and gobbled my cock. She bobbed on my cock with such desperate desire I had to stop her before I came too early. She got back on the couch and begged, “Now fuck my ass. Hammer me with that big hard cock. Show your Mommy who your first love really was.”

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



Dan started to unpack his gift.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“I’ll think about it…”



“You promise?”



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



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



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



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



“OK that I’ll go to my room and…”



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



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



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



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



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



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



“I’ll help you.”



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



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



“Ok, a beer?”



“Beer is fine. And mom…?”



“Yes honey?”



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



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



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



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



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



“You like what you see, honey?’



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



“Hold your horses and just watch mommy playing.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“”Wow, honey, you’re delicious!”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



To be continued…

All characters are 18 years or older.



This is the first story in a trilogy.



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Allen?” the pretty woman called.



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



“Here, let me help you with those.”



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



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



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



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



“Anything else? Is that all?”



I nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed.



“Still a big talker, hey?”



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



“It’s open,” she said.



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



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



“I hope I’m not a bother,” I said.



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



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



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



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



“I’m so looking forward to this.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Yum,” I said.



“Have another,” she replied.



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



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



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



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



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



“Thank you, sir.”



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



“More,” she insisted.



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



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



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



“Grab it G…, Allen, quick.”



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



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



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



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



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



“Allen.”



“Allen!”



“Yes,” I answered thickly.



“Don’t push, scoop it back.”



“Okay.”



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



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



“Hey.”



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



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



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



“There isn’t much left,” I said.



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



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



“Mmmmmmm,” she murmured.



“Last one,” I said.



“Awwww.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



She turned off the engine and twisted my way.



“Welcome home, Allen.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



“It’s great, awesome,” I said.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“I didn’t know… but, we haven’t…”



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



“Yes, of course,” I stammered.



“Then, kiss me.”



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



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



“I… I, uh, I…”



Mrs. Robinson stood up.



“Goodnight, Allen.”



“Goodnight, Mrs. Robinson.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



I nodded, relieved.



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



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



“Do you like kissing me, Allen?”



“Yes.”



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



I thought about denying it but her expression demanded honesty.



“Yes.”



“Gary’s father doesn’t like it.”



“I know,” I acknowledged.



“But you look anyway?”



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



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



“You don’t?”



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



“It does?”



“Yes.”



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



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



I blushed again.



“Yes.”



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



“What?” I asked.



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



“By myself?”



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



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



“Yes,” I gasped.



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



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



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



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



My disappointment showed.



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



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



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



I nodded enthusiastically.



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



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



“Yes.”



The dress lifted higher, half way up her thighs.



“Do you really like them?”



“Yes, I really like them.”



Higher.



“Really, really like them?”



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



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



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



“Do you like my panties, Allen?”



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



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



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



“With Mr. Robinson sitting right behind me?”



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



“Yeah!”



“Okay, if you really want me to.”



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



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



She stretched up on her toes and kissed me.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Yes.”



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



“Go to the store?”



“Yes.”



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



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



“Running shoes? From where?”



“The mall.”



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



“Allen. Focus.”



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



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



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



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



“Can you feel it, Allen?”



“Yes.”



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



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



My cock twitched again.



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



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



“You mean, I can’t?”



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



“Okay,” I responded, bravely.



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



“Kiss me,” she whispered.



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



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



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



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



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



“Would you like to take these, sir?”



I looked at the salesman and my head suddenly cleared.



“Yes,” I replied. “I’ll wear them.”



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



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



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



“I was just kidding,” I laughed.



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



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



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



“I know what I’m doing.”



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



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



“Joan!”



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



“No.”



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



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



“He’ll be fine.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Hi, I’m home.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Really?”



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



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



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



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



“See, you can do it.”



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



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



“Yes, I do.”



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



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



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



“Thanks, Mrs. Robinson.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Shhhhh, be quiet.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



Mrs. Robinson’s expression softened.



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



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



“Do you need me to?”



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



“Then, I’ll come.”



The toilet flushed.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



Suddenly, her face filled with surprise.



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



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



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



“Like what?”



“Without blankets.”



“Why not? What difference does it make?”



“It’s not proper.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“I really should go,” she whispered.



I knew she didn’t want to.



“He’s probably fallen asleep.”



“Do you think so?”



“Was he reading?”



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



“Yes.”



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



“He does,” she confirmed.



“So, you can stay a little longer.”



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



I pushed my hands higher up the forbidden slope.



“What are you doing back there, Mister?”



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



“Your prize?”



“Yes. Those blue panties.”



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



“Tonight,” I corrected her.



“Tonight?”



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



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



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



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



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



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



“He might not be.”



“He won’t notice.”



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



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



“I would notice.”



“Would you?” she smiled, inquisitively.



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



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



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



“What are you doing?”



“Getting ready to take your panties off.”



“I didn’t say you could.”



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



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



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



“Allen, I can’t.”



“Yes, you can.”



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



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



“Let me do it.”



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



“Allen, that’s gross.”



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



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



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



“Allen!”



“Sorry. Kiss better?”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Are you okay, Allen?”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Yes. I just came up to say goodbye.”



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



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



“Do you like my new dress?”



“Yes. It’s beautiful.”



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



“Then, you’re beautiful.”



“I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”



“You don’t have to.”



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



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



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



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



“Allen, what’s the matter?”



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



“Shhhhhhh,” she comforted.



I shook my head, shaking off her hands.



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



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



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



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



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



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

“Allen.”



“Shhhhhh.”



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



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



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



“Allen!”



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



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



“Allen,” she cried, her voice weaker.



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



“Oh, Allen,” Mrs. Robinson sighed.



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



“Allen.”



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



“Oh, God. Allen, oh Allen.”



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



“No. Allen, oh no.”



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



“Yes,” I mumbled into her muff.



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



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



Mrs. Robinson liked it.



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



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



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



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



“Allen, wait!”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



I remained silent.



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



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



“Show him,” Mrs. Robinson interjected excitedly.



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



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



“Baseball? You bought…baseball tickets.”



Mr. Robinson’s face lit up.



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



“He’s right here.”



Mr. Robinson looked at me.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“That’s very kind of him,” I said.



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



“You mean, you can’t stay long?”



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



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



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



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



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



“It wasn’t her baby,” I said.



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



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



Mrs. Robinson looked startled, and suddenly uncomfortable.



“How old?” she asked.



“I don’t know. Four, maybe older.”



“Did that bother you?”



“I guess so.”



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



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



“Maybe. I don’t know.”



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



“I don’t know. I guess, maybe.”



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



“I guess not.”



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



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



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



“Do you like it?” she hissed.



I nodded and mumbled enthusiastically around her tit.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Whew,” I finally spoke.



“Whew,” she agreed.



“That was incredible,” I gasped.



“You shouldn’t call me Mommy.”



“I called you Mommy?”



“Yes, you shouldn’t.”



“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”



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



“Oh. I didn’t notice.”



Mrs. Robinson laughed loudly. “Uh huh.”



“Can I call you Mommy again?”



“At your peril, but I prefer Mom.”



“I like living dangerously.”



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



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



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



“Mom,” I cried plaintively.



“Whining won’t do it,” she said.



“Mom,” I said more forcefully.



“Don’t wear it out.”



I took her advice and remained mum.



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



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



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



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



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



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

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



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



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



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



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



“Hello, I’m home.”



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



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



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



“Yeah, it looks great…Mom.”



“Allen, don’t start.”



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



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



“Nope. Cereal’s okay.”



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



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



“Okay, that would be great.”



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



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



I looked down at her almost completely bare legs.



“Are you ready for the game, Allen?”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Allen, you must wait.”



She pulled away but I followed her into the counter.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“You mean, you want me to…suck you?”



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



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



“But Allen, I can’t…”



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



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



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



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



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



“Please, Mom. I really need it.”



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



“Oh, Mom. Oh God. Mom,” I cried.



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



“Suck it, Mom, suck it,” I groaned.



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



Mr. Robinson’s car squealed into the driveway.



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



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



“Please, Mom,” I pleaded.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Thanks for the game, son.”



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



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



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



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



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



“You’re welcome. I did too.”



“Are you hungry?”



“No.”



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



“I bet he’s asleep already.”



“Do you think so?”



“I do, Mom.”



“The light is still on.”



“He’s gone,” I said.



“I hope so, Mrs. Robinson said.



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



“Don’t you want me?” she asked.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Are you okay?” I asked.



“Give it to me,” she cried.



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



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



“Get off me you big oaf,” she said.



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



“That was a little rushed,” she said.



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



“Not tonight, you won’t.”



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



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



“Aww, Mom.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Nope, don’t see anything?”



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



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



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



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



“…and bananas,



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



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



I swiveled my head about and looked at the list.



“Do you like zucchini?” she asked.



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



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



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



“How about cucumbers?”



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



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



“Yes,” I replied. “I do, very much.”



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



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



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



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



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



“Hmmmm?”



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



“No, can’t think of anything.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“It was nothing,” I said.



“Nothing? I don’t believe that.”



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



“Mrs. Robinson, I…”



“Mom,” she corrected me.



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



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



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

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



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



“Don’t disappoint me, Allen.”



“I won’t. I hope I never will.”



“I know you do,” she smiled.



Mr. Robinson steps sounded on the stairs.



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



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



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



“He wasn’t in the mood.”



“Joan, don’t give me that.”



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



“I warned you.”



“Yadda, yadda, yadda.”



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



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



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



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



“Jesus Christ, Joan. He’s our son!”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Fine. I’ll start weaning Gary off.”



“You mean Allen,” Mr. Robinson said.



“Yes, of course, Allen.”



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



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



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



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



“Mrs. Robinson?” I called. No answer.



“Mrs. Robinson?”



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



“Allen, just who I wanted to see.”



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



“What do you think? Do you like it?”



“Yeah, I like it a lot.”



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



“Why not.”



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



“Yeah, on you. It’s real sexy.”



“See, that’s the problem.”



“Why?”



Mrs. Robinson ignored my question.



“Why?” I repeated.



“Why, Mom,” she said.



My cock twitched and lengthened.



“Why, Mom?” Another twitch.



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



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



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



“Oh.”



“What do you think?”



“Well, I…uh, I like Mr. Robinson.”



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



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



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



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



“But, do you like it?”



“Yeah, I like it.”



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



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



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



“Yeah, I guess not.”



“But, if he’s not home, it’s ok?”



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



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



“That’s what I was thinking too.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



“What?”



“You mean, pardon me, Mom?”



“Ah, yeah. Pardon me, Mom?”



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



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



“No silly. Put them in the middle.”



I dragged the pillows into the middle of the bed.



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



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



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



Mrs. Robinson spread her legs.



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



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



I clambered up on the bed.



“Allen?”



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



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



Really? This was getting really kinky.



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



“Yeah, sure, Mom. Call me Gary.”



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



I leaned close and drooled onto her puckered opening.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



“Ohhhh, yesss.”



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



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



“Oh God, Gary. Easy. Easy.”



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



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



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



“Ahhhh God, yesss.”



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



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



“Unngghhhh,”



All the way, then out, and back.



“Unghhhhh.”



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



I pushed in vigorously.



“Unnnghhhhhh!”



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



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



“Fuck it,” Mrs. Robinson cried.



“Take it,” I hissed. “Take it hard.”



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



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



“I know,” she acknowledged with total acceptance.



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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.”



“What mom?”



“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.

Part 3: Absence Makes the Loins go Mad



“Oh God. Not again.” Charlene grumbled in disgrace as the rays of morning light stabbed between her eyelids that seemed less than willing to completely open. Her hand, still buried in her underwear, felt overly warm and betrayed the moisture between her thighs as she rubbed her slick fingertips together. For the third morning in a row since her son David had left her house, she had awakened from torrid dreams of their incestuous revelations to the realization that her body had demanded more than unconscious recollection in her dreams. Her clitoris still pulsed with the stimulation she had only just abandoned upon waking and the sensation coursed through her body with a terrible need to culminate in climax.



In the dawning moments of consciousness, the visions of her dreams; that of her son between her over eagerly parted legs, sinking his blessed manhood into her sex over and over, still felt as real as the room around her was becoming and without much care to invite reality too early, Charlene sank her fingers back where her body needed them still. The renewed splendor of penetration sent her ecstasy into sharper relief and she rolled over onto her back, pulling one of her shapely legs up under her other arm to make her labors easier. Her breathing began to rasp as her hand darted between her legs with its own will, sending her fingertips into her shuddering wetness with decadent enthusiasm.



“God baby, harder…” She whispered, already half way back into the dream of David’s cock sinking in and out of her, his own mother, the depraved whore such as she had become for him, longing to fulfill a need that seemed now rather boundless. Despite her shame she craved his body against hers, but the protection that her solitude provided allowed her to continue without much reflection on morality. The lust had once again taken control, replacing Charlene’s higher reasoning with the carnal needs that she fought daily now to restrict within herself. What had begun to trouble her most however, was the fact that each time she submitted to her furtive lusts, her body seemed to require more to satiate its appetite. Her fingers felt inadequate, measured against the memory of David’s cock filling her as no man’s had before. Charlene dropped her leg alongside the other, the burning in her core demanding more to be quenched.



“This has gotten out of hand!” She thought with aggravation, but too much had been done for her loins to allow her to stop now. Charlene rolled to her side, reaching desperately for her night stand as the beast within her screamed like a starving wolf at the moon. The drawer yanked open too easily, nearly spilling its contents onto the carpet beside her bed as Charlene grasped and discarded a book and her reading glasses case before her fingers wrapped around the shaft of the phallic instrument of pleasure that she hoped desperately would calm the storm in her loins. With trembling hands she twisted the base switch until the toy vibrated to life on its most forceful setting. She stared at it a moment, singing its rhythmic song in her hands, wishing for a moment that if she were to slide it into her mouth it would bear the flavor of her son’s salty skin.



Rolling over again, she penetrated herself before she was even settled, her inner walls pulsing with the dildo’s playful dance. Harshly she worked it in and out, grunting lewdly and without care as she imagined again being taken with the tremendous force she now only imagined her son inflicting on her. Her eyes had slammed shut, replacing her surroundings with the fantasy of David’s hands pinning her knees back against her heavy breasts. She could see him, beautiful and young, thrusting his hips forward until every inch of his penis vanished between her sensitive labia. He was strong; his eyes determined. She was his again; damn all her inner resistance, she would forever be his as long as he was inside her. She could decide if she hated herself for it later.



Charlene gasped out incoherently, the sound of her whispers and moans accompanies only by the low dull buzz of her toy and the coaxed juiciness seeping from her womb. The images in her mind altered, taking her body involuntarily with them. Without a care for the effort of it, Charlene rolled over onto her stomach, panting into her pillow as she raised her bottom up. The blanket slid from her body exposing her thong clad sex to the ceiling before she tore the saturated underwear down the back of her thighs and sank the toy back inside her inconsolable vagina from behind.



“Fuck yes!” Charlene screamed as she crammed it forcefully against her g-spot. A flash of how obscene she had to look occurred to her in that desperate moment of sexual need and weakness; ass in the air and one hand reached around to penetrate herself as though David himself were in her bed where she needed him, grasping her waist, calling her his and taking her for his pleasure.



“David… David!” She groaned repetitively as she relentlessly besieged her swollen vagina to batter against the spot that promised absolute release.



“God David, fuck me to death! I’m cumming!” Charlene screamed as her muscles tightened around the toy in jarring grips before dispensing a spastic feminine ejaculation that brought her slumping down flat against her belly once more. Her hand released the toy in exhaustion and it continued to pulsate, unguided in the depths of her quivering wetness. The climax had overpowered her to the brink of exhaustion. It felt without end of depth and relentlessness as it tore through her body with a tsunami of breath stealing pleasure. Even when, after some time, the toy buzzed its way free of her body and danced in the wet spot left on her sheets between her trembling thighs, Charlene made no dare to move and disrupt the ebb and flow of internal bliss that frenzied through her nerves. Only until the moment had fully passed, and the fantasy fully faded away; only when the buzzing phallus had begun to annoyingly knock against the side of her knee did she roll to her side, turn it off and toss it off the bed before letting her composure return to her enough to competently sit up and scoot her underwear back up her hips. The coolness of her own moisture on the fabric, long removed from her body to freely interact with the chilly air of the room, pressed against her clitoris and sent one last lingering current through her core.



The beast within was silent now, asleep until her immoral cravings awakened it again. Its less pleasant counterpart took its place in her thoughts, riddling Charlene with guilt and indignity as she reluctantly stood up and moved towards her dresser, in her daily mindless routine to select attire in which to exercise. With self disgust she pulled the tainted thong back off again and helplessly rubbed it against her vagina, only slightly less than horrified at how much of her dampness had smeared across it before tossing the garment in her laundry basket and slipping a fresh pair back up her legs. After donning a pair of her insulated black running pants and a purple tank top, Charlene turned to face the disarray that she had once again made of her bed. Her pillows were scattered and the thick down comforter had been kicked into one corner of the mattress and lay half on the floor. In the center of the linen, like a testament to her corruption was the large dark stain the size of a dinner plate and several scattered smears of saturation that her toy had done the honor of dribbling around her bed before she had found the ability to move and shut it off. With a sigh that felt too heavy for her own lungs, Charlene grabbed at a corner of the bedding to peel it free of the mattress and add it to her inundated thong in the laundry before she stopped short, staring at the clutter like it was a task far larger than it really was.



“Screw it.” She huffed and let loose of the fabric in frustration. Her mind was in too many places to play the domesticated woman and she crossed her room around her bed, promising herself that she’d take care of it after a hard run and a well earned shower. As she flung her curtains open however, all good intentions dissolved to the depressing sight of snow falling so thick, Charlene had to squint through it to make out the house across the street. What should have been a view of the road below her was masqueraded in thick sparkling white. The distinction between elevation of the street and the shouldering curbs was gone and the more she stared, Charlene felt certain it had been surpassed by several feet of frozen precipitation. Cars parked in their driveways were submerged to their side mirrors and for all the chaos before her eyes, it was apparent that the city snow plows had not even bothered to begin any attempt to start their efforts in her neighborhood.



“Punishment, right?” Charlene asked as she stared upward out the frosty pane at her faceless and seemingly mocking creator concealed behind heavy cloud cover, before slouching her shoulders in defeat and turning back towards her dresser, kicking her running pants off as she moved and flicking them with her foot onto her bed with the lump of musty sweet smelling linen. After sliding a heavy pair of sweatpants back on, she snatched up the dildo from is discarded location on her rug. It glistened with the saturation of extended use, but rather than provide Charlene with the smile of satisfaction that it had done its duty admirably, it had become another token symbolizing her feelings of utter failure as a mother. Hurriedly, she rounded the corner from her bed room, making her way to the sink in her bathroom where she thrust the robotic phallus under hot running water and began to wipe it clean with a hand towel with a mania an onlooker might confuse with a person destroying evidence of some horrid crime. When the dildo once again had adopted all of the clean normalcy that a sex toy possibly could, she walked back into her room, tossed it in her bedside drawer amidst a clutter of condoms and ball point pens and slammed it shut as though she couldn’t have been happier to have it out of sight.



The walk down the slender flight of stairs to her living room seemed to Charlene to be a decent into Hell as she knew she would be unable to look upon her sofa without vivid images of her son gripping his masculinity with all the splendor of its engorged potential in a full color flashback of what had started everything she now resented herself for. Trying not to look at its now innocent appearance, she sank into its soft cushions and grabbed for the television remote, giving little notice to the growling in her stomach begging for breakfast. Her thumb tapped the channel control rapidly as her eyes masterfully surveyed passing programs that, in the blink of a second displayed nothing interesting to force her to linger there.



“Can’t run; nothing on TV…” Charlene huffed with irritation. “This should be a fun day.” She added as she rolled back off the couch, punched in the numerals on the remote for the weather channel and walked into her kitchen.



“…an absolutely awful storm.” A meteorologist’s voice trailed off as Charlene opened her refrigerator and dug around for a Tupperware container filled with freshly chopped melon that she had cut up the night before. As she grabbed a fork out of another drawer and flipped the switch on her coffee maker the television spoke again forcing her attention back towards the living room.



“If you’re just joining us, we direct your attention to the north eastern section of New York where something of a small blizzard is consuming the North Country.” The announcer chimed more merrily than such circumstances deserved. Charlene plopped back into the couch and began to eat as she stared at the man on the screen who was wearing what, for all Charlene could account, seemed to be a suit made out of motel drapes. He was circling his hand against the digital image of an enormous storm that was sweeping over her area and worse, towards David’s. Instinctively she set down her tub of melon and hunched over the arm of the couch, wiggling her fingers into her handbag which was just out of reach to make it an uncomfortable stretch until she found her phone. Not bothering to settle back into place first, she tapped the screen to life. No icons stood out indicating missed calls, texts or voicemails. Charlene pulled herself back up into place and once again eyed her television. The animation being displayed confirmed her fears. A large dark purple oval that was presently right on top of her town was being shown drifting towards the right and resting comfortably over where her son was probably already racing down white slopes with little intention of moving on after.



“Crap…” Charlene cursed meagerly, and then smiled in spite of herself as it occurred to her that her concern for David was the first thought she had had about him all morning which hadn’t panged her with guilt. As soon as the warmth of that simple pleasure was through her, her mind betrayed its darker ambitions, replacing her maternal instinct with baser needs for him to come home safely. The animal in her loins grumbled in its sleep.



“Put the phone down Charlene.” She said to herself, and obeying her own better sense she set it down in her lap and stared back at the television without really taking into account what she was seeing before her. Her head was starting to swim with the prospect of his presence and the closure it might bring them. Her eyes settled back into her lap at the calm black screen of her iphone which stared back as though flat out daring her to pick it up.



“No.” She thought. “Let him be. You’re a mess and he’ll know it if you call.” As she set the phone back down on the arm of the couch drumming her fingers against her hip in anxiety as she tried to concentrate on the television.



“And as you can see here on the DOPLAR, the storm system will continue to gust down from Canada and into the northern and northeastern areas of New York, bringing with it significant lake effect snow and high wind. Temperatures in the Adirondack areas are expected to drop into the low teens and well into the negatives by evening with snow accumulation of five feet or more by nine o’clock tonight. Residents are advised to avoid travel if and at all possible and certainly to avoid major highways after 7pm.” The weather man reported as Charlene stared intently at the dark purple highlight of the RADAR behind the reporter as it repeated it’s animation; resting finally over the precise area that her son was staying. She glanced back down at her phone and back to the television. Deciding that a call from a concerned parent could be made to sound less needy than she felt, Charlene picked her phone back up, highlighted her son’s name in her list and tapped it. Her arm felt shaky as she tucked her hair behind her ear and lifted the cell to it.



“Relax.” She exhaled as the ringtone chimed. A mere several seconds of rings felt like an eternity as she fidgeted deeper into her place on the sofa.



“Hi Mom.” David’s deep voice sounded in Charlene’s ear as soon as the line clicked over. Hearing it sent a current through her body that was anything but maternal.



“Hi David. I’m watching the news and the weather heading for your area…” She began, her voice cracking so nervously that she felt like she was back in middle school, calling a boy for the first time. “Well… how’s the weather out there anyhow?” She finished meekly.



“How’s the weather? You did not just say that.” She scolded herself, cupping her forehead in her hand in silent embarrassment. For all her preconceived notions about how nervous she was, Charlene realized that there wasn’t going to be any way to escape the call without making a fool of herself. Fighting every urge to simply hang up and blame it on poor signal, she pressed the phone against her ear more firmly and braced herself for more of the same flutter her nerves would provide when her son spoke to her again.



“I imagine it’s every bit as bad as the TV says it is.” David replied with a casual voice. In the distance, Charlene heard many voices moving in and out of her son’s vicinity. “We’re all packed into the lodge right now hoping for a break but it doesn’t look like we’re gonna get one.” He added.



“It’s really coming down huh? Same here. In fact from what I’m seeing, you haven’t even gotten the worst of it yet.” Charlene replied hopelessly.



“Stop talking about the weather or get off the phone you moron!” Her embarrassment shouted in her mind. Charlene swallowed hard, searching into the recesses of her memory for a time not long passed when having a simple conversation with her son was still a relatively easy occurrence.



“Terrific. Well we were expecting as much. It’s already bad enough out here that they won’t let us on the slopes.” David replied with defeat in his tone. The air on the phone went quiet between them as Charlene moved her lips silently hoping with each passing second that the connection between them would fail so that she could stop trying to think of something to say. “Is everything alright? Did I lose you?” David asked, his voice changing to one of concern.



“No I’m fine here.” Charlene lied. “Actually I was more concerned about you out there.”



“Well, we may have to take off earlier than expected so we don’t get snowed in here.” David remarked before saying something under his breath to someone close by him. Charlene couldn’t make it out and wasn’t really interested anyhow. The simple idea that her son might have to return to her early spread like a wave of warm hope that permeated all the inappropriate areas her body had to offer. She looked out the living room window at the blizzard burying her mailbox and silently prayed that it continue.



“Oh. Well of course if you need to come home…” She began but stopped short, hearing the happiness in her voice that shouldn’t have been there. “That is to say, I don’t want you getting stuck or worse; into an accident. You scare the hell out of me whenever you take your car out in the snow to begin with.” She continued, feeling proud that she had managed to come across at least in part, more like a mother than an optimistic girlfriend. “You’ll keep me posted right?”



“Yeah of course.” David answered through the crackle of failing reception.



“Is everything else alright? Are you coming home in one piece?” Charlene asked. “How is Phil doing? Everything ok there?” She asked, hearing her words dissolve into a blather of disjointed nonsense.



“Alright woman. How about one question at a time before he doesn’t want to come home to your babbling ass at all?” She scolded herself unremittingly, feeling more hopeless with each syllable that came out of her mouth.



“Um yeah, I’m fine. Phil’s fine; everything’s fine. Mom, are you sure you’re ok?” Her son replied. Charlene silently cursed, knowing full well what had prompted such a question. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply to regain composure. Her heart was pounding in her chest and for all the chill coming through the window next to her, she felt like she was steadily becoming feverish.



“I… miss you.” She finally said just above a whisper into the receiver of her phone which felt heavier in her hand with each passing second. She wondered if David understood the context that her words were meant to convey. Gritting her teeth, Charlene waited for the reply to the simple truth she had not intended to express when she had dialed him up.



“I miss…” David began and then stopped short. Charlene tore the phone from her ear to check the call status on the phone, dreadfully fearful the conversation had been dropped, before replacing it against her head. “I want to say I miss you too but…” He said, stopping again. Charlene’s desperation peaked into verbal machine gun fire.

“No! I meant… David I meant that I just miss you. You know? In a ‘mom’ way? I wasn’t trying to force anything. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t want…” She rambled with terror in her tone.



“You did it!” She chided herself. “You pushed too fast and you’ve freaked him out! You freaked him out and nothing’s going to ever be the same!” Charlene ranted internally as she folded her knees up to bounce her forehead off of.



“Mom! Give me a second ok? I’m just not in the best place to… just hold on a second, ok?” David replied with exasperation.



“Yeah.” She whispered as a tear ran down her cheek. She listened in the phone at the scuffle of changing sounds and background noise for nearly an eternal minute before her son returned.



“You still there?” David asked. The air around him had grown nearly silent.



“Yes.” She answered; her voice still unable to rise above a whisper, though she realized that he had relocated because it was he who could not talk without ears all around to hear him.



“I was going to say I miss you too…” David began again. “But it wasn’t the right word.” He finished, motivating Charlene to lift her head from its drooped resting place against her knees. “Mom I literally haven’t had a second to myself since I left where you weren’t on my mind.” He concluded. The panic that had so quickly consumed Charlene fled, replaced by the flutter of a butterfly with A.D.D. in her stomach. “And I’ve gone in and out of being so hot for you that I’ve nearly bailed on Phil a hundred times, to staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what the hell we’ve done.” He finished. Like a weight lifted, Charlene lay back on her sofa smiling widely at the relieved burden of believing she was the only one who felt so lost. Despite any motherly desire that her son was away, enjoying himself apart from the cares of life, there was a selfish happiness in that perhaps, she was not the only one teetering on the brink of madness.



“David I’m a wreck.” She confessed. “Part of me wants to tell you how sorry I am for this. Another part…” She paused trying to decide whether to finish the thought. “… Wants you home so I can tear your clothes off.” She admitted, deciding that she would probably communicate more effectively if she abandoned the pretenses under which she had called. The truth felt better.



“Hang on a second Mom.” David replied. The sudden silence on his end was replaced with a flurry of muttered voices that Charlene couldn’t distinguish despite how intently she listened. Each moment they weren’t talking felt like a tap of water between her eyes that was steadily robbing her of her sanity.



“Mom the resort is closing down completely on account of the storm cause the weatherman said this isn’t gonna let up for a couple of days. Phil and I just agreed that the fun’s over. I’m coming home.” David sighed.



“Really?!” Charlene gasped, before realizing that she probably sounded too enthused about her son’s misfortune. “And when you get home we’ll… we’ll talk right?” She added hopefully.



“In this weather I might not be able to get home till late.” David answered. Charlene grew suddenly worried, hoping that his words were more a statement of fact and not an effort to postpone the inevitable.



“I want to talk. We need to talk David. I have no problem staying up as late as it takes.” She answered, pleased at how resolute she seemed to sound.



“Then we’ll talk.” He affirmed back to her. “Listen Mom, Phil and I need to get our stuff loaded up in the cars and get out of here fast. We’re not the only one’s leaving and the road is gonna be bad enough without a hundred people trying to get out of here.”



“Go sweetie.” Charlene replied. “I promise I’ll still be up when you get in and for the love of God, drive carefully.”



“Love you.” David replied, and the line clicked dead leaving Charlene feeling vacant in the hole his absence left behind.



“I love you too David, so much.” Charlene whispered as she pulled the phone from her ear and stared outside again. The snowflakes had grown noticeably larger and tapped against the window pane like little white pieces of cork. Across the street and barely visible through a static of white, neighbors were already scrambling out of their warm homes all bundled up in thick coats and knit caps to shovel driveways and brush off cars in the futile hope that it would make a difference. Charlene had lived in the north country too long not to know better and pulled the quilt she kept over the back of her sofa down over her body and snuggled herself more deeply against a throw pillow with little intention of moving until necessity demanded it.



She felt more at ease now, having bared her thoughts, if only in part, to her son and felt more hopeful about her approach to their impending conversation. She laid still and warm, staring at the television without much regard to the passing of commercials and the clockwork return of the increasingly negative weather report. Slowly, Charlene’s eyes began to close as the heavy sleep converged on her thoughts and ultimately silenced them.



Charlene lay on her bed, adorned in her favorite sheer nightgown as David’s body sank down upon hers gently. His mouth took control of hers with the soothing of all of a kiss’s intended passion. She could feel the heat of his erection against her thigh before she parted her legs for him, expressing without words what she desired most. His lips never left hers as he entered her saturated depths, the fullness of his cock expanding her inner walls to entrench itself inside her. Gently he began to take her, the thrusts of his hips deep and powerful. Charlene gave in; gave herself to David without thought or care. Desiring only to have him stay inside her forever, she wrapped her thighs around his waist, locking her ankles behind him. She flexed her legs, tugging him into her as he pressed forward. Her groans of pleasure filled his mouth as her tongue moved past his lips in search of its mate. In that perfect moment, Charlene was a lover to her son, careless of all inhibition. Lustfully, she raked her fingernails down his back until digging them into his young muscular bottom. He took her at her unspoken word and began to penetrate her harder. His lips broke from hers, gasping desperate moans of pleasure and she became aware of the pulsing swell inside her womanhood indicating that he was to fill her with his steaming warmth. She wanted to cry out to him; to tell him to climax and how much she craved the feel of his orgasm, but a strange ringing began to pull her attention away. She looked around her bedroom, frantic to find its source. It grew louder and more intrusive. David seemed to notice it to and pulled away from her. Charlene reached out to him but his presence had left her room and the ringing only grew louder.



Charlene woke with a start, wincing at the abrupt intrusion of light against her alert eyes. Her surroundings were as she had left them. The television was showing a car commercial and outside the living room window, the heavy snowfall had not ceased as the reports had promised. The only break in the normalcy of her settings was her cell phone, buzzing and ringing where she had left it on the arm of the sofa. She snatched it up, suddenly full of dread that it was David calling; that he had been in an accident or worse.



To a mixture of relief and annoyance, the touch screen glowed with Samantha’s name as the incoming call. Charlene tapped it reluctantly.



“Hey Sam.” She said, still half asleep and as politely as she could, given the reluctance to abandon what she had awoken from.



“Char, great! I need a favor.” Samantha replied, forgetting the social grace of a greeting of her own.



“What’s up?” Charlene replied, sitting up and grasping the TV remote to mute the weatherman’s faithful and continuous update.



“The power over here has been flickering on and off a lot recently and I’m really concerned for all the food I have in my freezer if we lose power for good. Do you have room in that spare icebox in your basement?” Samantha enquired with an overly applied sweetness in her voice that she only wore when she needed something really badly.



“Yeah that’s no problem, if you actually feel brave enough to drive over in this in your car.” Charlene answered.



“Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead trying.” Samantha replied. “I’m really not worried about the normal stuff in the fridge. That’s easy enough to replace, but if all this meat I have in the freezer dies I’m out a few hundred bucks.” She explained with obvious concern in her voice.



“Well send me a text then when you’re on your way and I’ll come out and give you a hand.” Charlene answered as she pulled the quilt of her body less than willingly, with the intention of getting off the couch.



“No need; the cars already packed up and I’m heading out the door now. Give me five minutes. Char, you’re the best!” The line clicked dead. Charlene shook her head in amusement. Of all the things she could rely upon in life, death and taxes paled in comparison to Samantha’s uncanny ability to rope Charlene into a plan with the assumption of her agreement. Less than willingly, she peeled her lethargic body from its entrenched place on her sofa, draped her warm quilt back over the rear of the couch and rose to her feet on sleepy legs. They carried her faithfully to her hall closet where she stepped her feet into a pair of unlaced fur lined boots and donned one of David’s winter coats that he had left behind without bothering to pull her hair out of the collar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the foyer mirror. The jacket looked like she had stolen it from a man twice her size and it wrapped more like a thick Gortex cocoon around her body and hung around her shoulders like it was on a clothing hanger three sizes too small. Charlene tucked her face into one of its lapels; it smelled like her son’s musky cologne. The beast within again grumbled as it lay in her depths, dreaming and waiting to be reawakened.



Much to Charlene’s relief, before any further dwelling on her part occurred; her attention was redirected to the pane of glass beside her front door where up the street, a slowly moving and almost entirely snow covered red car was trudging through the deep white winter wasteland towards her house through what could no longer be recognized as a neighborhood. As she opened the front door, a blustery arctic gale struck Charlene square in the face, immediately sapping away more warmth than her body could replenish. Stepping out off her front step she sank almost to her hips and began making her way through the frozen swamp that her yard had become to the street where Samantha was pulling up. Her car crunched to a halt and the engine died off as though relieved to be through an ordeal.



“I made it!” Samantha sprang from the driver’s side, her hands held aloft her head triumphantly and she began to dance in the heavy snow like a victorious boxer after a grueling match. “You’re a life saver Char!” She chimed, pointing at Charlene like she was a savior as she rounded her vehicle in heavy high steps until she came at last to the shallow side of her trunk where the snow was worn down by the force of her car. “It’s really not that much I promise!” She added as she clicked her key fob, popping the truck open to reveal four rather heavy looking brown paper bags packed to the brim with sealed freezer bags.



“It’s fine Sam; I’m happy to help.” Charlene assured her as she labored to make her own way to the trunk where Samantha thankfully loaded both her arms with one bag each before attempting to underarm two of her own and coaxing the trunk shut with her elbow after several tries. The walk back felt treacherous as the pair tried to use the deep foot prints Charlene had made on the way out. After freezing nearly to death in several failed attempts to work her front door open, she and Sam sighed in mutual appreciation for the house’s warmth. Their shoes squeaked against Charlene’s polished hardwood foyer floor leaving wet dragging footprints as they wound around the kitchen towards the basement.



“So… How are ya holding up?” Sam asked as they descended the creaky wooden steps into the dark damp smelling lower floor. Without warning, excitement swelled out of Charlene’s lips.



“David called me not too long ago!” She chimed back, realizing that the answer sounded more elated than she would have liked. “The storm forced the ski lodge to close and he’s on his way home!”



“In this?!” Samantha stammered, her voice cracking under the strain of the load of paper bags she was hauling in her weakening arms. “That’s insane! It’ll take him hours to get that car through the storm. He’d be better off finding a motel for the night.” She grunted in relief as her feet found the steadier cool concrete floor at the base of the stairs.



“I know. I’m worried about it too.” Charlene admitted despite her enthusiasm. “But at least when he gets here we can talk and…” She huffed as she set her load on the floor and panted away her racing heart beat. “…we can talk and get a handle on this.” She concluded with one last heavy breath before pulling open the lid of the storage cooler. Samantha plopped the remaining bags down beside Charlene’s set and accounted her friend cautiously.



“Char…” She began nervously, clearly uncertain as how to approach her next question. “Say the two of you talk, and you convince each other that continuing this… relationship if that’s what you want to call it, isn’t in either of your best interests. What then?” Charlene began to pull meat from the bags and set it into the freezer quietly contemplating her friend’s question. “Do you really think it will all just go back to the way it was?” Samantha probed harder as she began to empty items into the fridge as well.



“Part of me wishes it all would.” Charlene sighed. “I don’t have to tell you what a mess this has all made of me.” She added as she crushed an empty paper bag down and started in on the next one.



“But if you could rewind and go back; change things… would you?” Sam asked.



“In my right mind I would say yes, absolutely!” Charlene replied flatly. “But that’s the problem. Whenever I think of David now I know I’m not in my right mind.”



“Someone else is doing the thinking huh?” Sam asked, staring down at Charlene’s waist with a click of her tongue. Her friend rolled her eyes at the crude remark.



“Something like that.” Charlene replied and then stopped her work to stand up and stare forward silently. “Or nothing like that.” She added in confusion. “When I think about David now, yes obviously it’s arousing.” She tried to explain. Samantha grinned and nodded in agreement. “But the more I let it affect me the more I start to think it’s something else too.”



“Meaning?” Samantha huffed as she lifted a rather large piece of freeze dried meat into the freezer.



“I get… warm.” Charlene began as she placed her hand over her stomach. “I feel light and tingly. My heart starts pounding and…” Charlene went on absentmindedly putting words to her unresolved feelings before Samantha stood and placed a hand on her arm.



“Char? Are you in love with David?” She asked with a tone of concern.



“What?!” Charlene spat in a raised voice. “Of course not!”



“Um, it sounds to me like you are. I mean it’s been a while for me and all but last I checked, that’s what you feel like when you’re falling in love.” Samantha countered. Charlene stared back at her in disbelief. The mere idea was nonsensical.



“Sam, seriously. He’s my son!” Charlene countered.



“Last I checked, that excuse hasn’t gotten in your way a whole lot.” Samantha shrugged. Charlene watched in dumbfounded silence as her friend nonchalantly continued to empty meat into her freezer.



“Alright this conversation is over!” She demanded angrily. “I have no idea what I actually feel and I don’t appreciate your label for it.” Charlene stated menacingly. Samantha backed up with her hands raised in surrender.



“Char, I’m sorry. Look I’m not trying to tell you what you feel. I call it how I see it. My aim was off, that’s all.” She apologized. Charlene’s enflamed countenance faded slightly back to its normal appearance. Samantha looked terrified and ashamed. Charlene wondered if she had involuntarily come across sterner than she had intended. Her best friend looked like a child that had just realized she had crossed a line with a parent.



“No, I’m sorry.” Charlene dissolved into shame. “Sam, I really have no idea what I feel that’s all.” She tried in vain to explain. As she stood there a moment staring at her friend hopelessly, a frightening sort of sense evolved out of Samantha’s accusation. Charlene shrugged it off forcefully, not wishing to give the idea any more substance. “Do you want some coffee?” She finally asked, elated when Samantha nodded appreciatively, hoping that the subject was closed. The pair ascended the steps sluggishly, taking the folded paper bags back up with them.



“What’s on TV?” Samantha asked tilting her head towards the living room as she followed Charlene into the kitchen.



“Nothing. I was just watching the weather this morning; keeping track of the storm.” Charlene explained as she fished through the cupboard for a pair of clean mugs. “If you haven’t got anywhere to be for a while you can always skim through the channels and find something for us to watch. That is of course if you don’t mind unearthing your car later and I haven’t completely scared you away yet.”



“Char I’m fine. It was my fault. Anyhow I doubt there’s much to watch. I was trying to find something on while I was home and I couldn’t, but what the Hell. I’ll see to the television; you get the coffee.” Sam schemed, seeming a bit lighter in her speech now that the last embers of her friends anger were quenched. Charlene simply nodded in agreement as she added creamer to her own mug while her friend turned on her heals towards the living room kicking off her heavy boots in the end of the foyer as she went.



“In love with David indeed…” Charlene suddenly thought as the notion came flooding back into her mind. She stopped what she was doing with a heavy sigh and stared forward at the cabinet door before her as though it would answer any of the volumes of questions that were surfacing in her head. The possibility that she was even less in control of her emotions than she was of her body made her feel impossibly weak. All of David’s life she had loved him, but with a mother’s love; the love that nurtured him, protected and guided him into adulthood to the best of her ability. The notion that it was at all possible that her love for him had changed so drastically, all because of what Charlene wanted to attribute to a poorly aimed sexual vulnerability, seemed utterly ridiculous. Yet as Charlene tried to shrug off the sensitivity she felt inside when David came to mind, Samantha’s accusation seemed to support more weight. She felt as hopelessly juvenile as a teenager, falling madly in love with the first boy she believed would give her his heart in exchange for her body. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. After finishing up both heated concoctions, she slipped her frozen feet out of her own wet boots and left them in the kitchen.



Samantha was dutifully channel surfing as Charlene entered the living room with the two hot coffee mugs that would ward off the chill in their bones. She sat beside her friend and silently stared forward at the screen, oblivious to what was on it as her brain tackled what it clearly considered more important questions. Samantha grabbed Charlene’s trusty quilt and tossed it over the both of them before snuggling herself into a cozy place.



“Could I be in love? Is it possible? What’s wrong with me?!” She thought. Her mind grappled with the questions one after the other, each seeming to lead back into the next in an endless loop of brain numbing repetition.

“Do I get one of those?” Samantha asked, breaking Charlene’s train of thought abruptly. She laughed and handed Samantha’s coffee to her and went back to staring forward. “Are you ok Char?” Samantha asked after accounting for Charlene’s silence a moment.



“I was thinking about what you said in the basement.” Charlene confessed before giving her attention to her own cup with a shallow sip. The coffee penetrated her body richly, fighting away an approaching shiver. Samantha looked back at her with sorrow in her eyes.



“Char, I didn’t mean anything bad by it.” Sam recoiled, her body languge becoming defensive in preparation for more arguement.



“No I know you didn’t.” Charlene sighed, finally making eye contact. “It’s just on my mind now. What if I am?” She asked mournfully.



“What if you are… what? In love with David?” Samantha repeated, easing forward with caution. “Well, damn Charlene I have freaking clue. Certainly would put a spin on things wouldn’t it?” She answered.



“Meaning?” Charlene asked as she sipped her coffee and set it back down on the table before her, discarding it as still being too hot for her tastes.



“Well I mean, before it was just sex. If you think you’re in love, are you looking for some kind of relationship with him?” Samantha reasoned cautiously, obviously not wanting to enflame her friends rage again. Charlene didn’t take the bait and just stared forward again, trying to still the beating of her heart which had begun to build in intensity.



“No.” She finally answered flatly. “No I’m not. Or yes… damn it Sam, I really have no clue what I’m thinking or what to do or…” She rambled helplessly. Samantha reached out, gingerly placing her hand on Charlene’s thigh.



“It’s not like you have to figure all this out right now Char.” She offered, setting her own mug down on the coffee table beside Charlene’s before addressing her further. “That’s the whole point of talking to David when he gets home right? To straighten out your thoughts?”



“And decide where it goes from here.” Charlene added with closure.



“Exactly. So for now, shut up and relax. You’re going to give yourself an aneurism.” Sam lectured. “Let’s just watch some TV and; well maybe not cause there is really nothing at all on worth watching.” She grumbled as she tapped through the channels in defeat. Charlene chuckled in amusement.



“Try ‘on-demand’.” She suggested as she rolled her head from side to side, sighing in relief as it cracked. “I really don’t care so whatever you pick is fine.”



“Well now. What’s this?” Samantha’s voice chimed merrily, breaking Charlene’s moment of peace. On the screen read the heading, ‘recently viewed’, and beneath it the words, ‘Horny Moms 2′. Charlene cocked her head slowly over to Samantha, regarding her amused playful look with distain.



“David.” She answered flatly. “I’m pretty sure that’s what I caught him watching that first morning.”



“Scene of the crime huh?” Samantha grinned. “Well why don’t we just have a little peek.” She added enthusiastically as she scrolled the cursor on the screen down over the movie title.



“Oh God Sam, really?” Charlene protested. “Surely there’s something else on actually worth watching.”



“What? It’s just good fun. Besides, like I said, I was channel surfing before I called you and there really isn’t anything worth watching; even you saw that!” Samantha said, discarding her friend’s disapproval. “Plus…” She added after a moment’s thought. “It might help you get in David’s head a little; see what he likes… and, you could probably use something to fuel whatever happens tonight.” She chimed with a playful bump of her elbow into Charlene’s ribs.



“Owe!” She protested again and reached out to try to snatch the remote from Sam. “David and I are going to talk tonight and nothing more until we do.” She shot back.



“And I hardly need any help fueling my desires.” She thought as she tried again to grab the remote in vain.



“Ugh-uh.” Sam muttered flatly. “You said whatever I wanted to watch, and besides; ‘Horny Moms 2′?” She continued to poke fun. “How can you resist?” Samantha laughed out loud. Charlene simply shook her head in reply.



“Too bad…” Samantha’s voice rang back. “You need to lighten up anyhow. Now, shall we pick up where David left off or start from the beginning?”



“Whatever…” Charlene groaned, now a bit at odds with her suggestion that Samantha stick around for coffee. Nearly oblivious in her annoyance to Sam’s observation that David had only gotten ten minutes into the porno, she rolled her eyes as her friend opted to pick up from the moment Charlene had caught her son masturbating and pushed play on the remote control. The load screen scrolled its status bar only a moment before the screen lit up to exactly where Charlene remembered it being before David had turned it off.



A mature looking but gorgeous brunette woman that Charlene decided instantly was right around her age was bent over on all fours. Beneath her a younger girl, probably only in her mid twenties lay in perfect position to lather her tongue against the older porn stars vagina while a young man, near the age of the girl on the floor groaned pierced the mature beauty with a cleanly shaven and handsome looking cock. In spite of herself, Charlene felt the warm rush of her blood rising to the surface of her pale skin.



“Well well well…” Samantha teased as she looked Charlene over. “I do believe someone’s blushing.”



“Shut up.” Charlene groaned, rolling her eyes but they found themselves fixed back on the screen almost immediately.



“Well I can’t blame you. That’s fucking hot!” Sam remarked as she too looked back to the television. Charlene stared at the trio intently, listening to the endless cries of pleasure the girls emitted as the younger man grunted like some silly ape above them.



“I never understood porn.” Charlene finally said after a few minutes. “The guys all have great bodies, but ugly faces and the women don’t sound real. They just scream and moan because it’s what gets guys off.” She added with all the seriousness of a stern debate. Samantha turned her head and gave Charlene the look one would expect had she said something naive.



“You’re right, you don’t get it.” She stated flatly. “Char its fantasy. It’s people fucking. Who cares what they say or how they sound. Next you’re going to tell me the lighting is bad or the backdrop looks staged. You’re paying attention to the wrong things. Look at them.” She pointed to the screen. Charlene looked back in time to see the two girls rolling away from the young man. Eagerly they had risen to their knees before him; their hands cupping their breasts and their tongues out like panting dogs as the man jacked extremely fake amounts of semen into their faces.



“Oh come on!” Charlene complained as though she were a film critic. “Now that’s just nonsense. I have never met a man who came that much. It’s all fake!” She whined. Samantha shook her head quietly.



“Of course it’s fake. Who cares? Char it’s porn. It’s hot slippery guilt free fantasy. You watch it, you get off and you’re done with it!” Sam shot back, defending the movie as the scene faded to black around the two women licking the sperm off each other’s faces, as though any woman had actually ever done anything so crude in real life.



“Oh yeah? I don’t see you over there getting off so what’s the point of this?” Charlene looked at Sam out of the corner of her eye. Her friend smiled sheepishly and turned her head back to the screen as a new scene in the film came up.



“Right. Like you wouldn’t completely freak out if I just dropped my pants and went to town on myself.” Samantha chided.



“Even you aren’t that uninhibited.” Charlene replied under her breath as she surveyed the screen. Another woman near her age was lying out by a pool, sunbathing topless. In the background a young man no more attractive than the last was pretending to check the waters chlorine levels. Charlene rolled her eyes again, mentally predicting exactly how the scene was going to play out.



“Well I don’t see you doing anything either.” Samantha replied, glaring at Charlene despite probably knowing how empty the argument was given Charlene’s initial reluctance to watch the movie at all. Charlene didn’t reply and just gazed forward. Samantha stared at her so hard she could feel her eyes in the corner of her peripheral vision. “Alright, fine.” Samantha huffed and after leaning forward enough to set her mug on the coffee table, reached under the quilt and began to wiggle around. Charlene watched Sam rummage for a moment before her jeans hit the floor at the base of the couch in a heavy flop.



“What are you doing?!” Charlene demanded as the sudden motion tore her eyes from the older woman who already had the man’s cock buried in her mouth.



“What does it look like?” Samantha replied as she suddenly whipped her pants out from under the quilt and tossed them carelessly on the coffee table nearly missing their drinks.



“No you aren’t!” Charlene shouted in amazement, her eyes fixed on her friend whose face suddenly flushed with arousal.



“Oh yes I am!” Samantha moaned as her head rocked back. “Take a good look Char. This is how you’re supposed to watch a porno.” She gasped as she tensed up and then relaxed with a heavy sigh of pleasure. “What’s the big deal anyhow? I’ve got the blanket over me; it’s not like you can see what I’m doing.”



“What you’re doing next to me!” Charlene retorted in frustration. “Under my blanket. On my couch!” She added raising her voice.



“Would you calm down?!” Samantha groaned as she stared forward at the television with the glazed eyes of lust. “I’ve still got my panties on. Your couch is fine…” Her words dissolved into a heavy gasp of pleasure. Charlene stared at her in bewilderment as the realization that Samantha had never been all that met the eyes sank in to the fullest that she could fathom.



“I can’t belive you.” Charlene huffed and turned her head back to the screen where the woman was now squatting over the young man’s hips, spearing herself down on his cock with rapid bounces. Beside her, Samantha continued to groan as she masturbated without regard to Charlene’s presence.



“You know you’d be a lot less uptight if you’d just join me.” She moaned.



“Not gonna happen.” Charlene retorted as she fidgeted to her left to blatantly put distance between herself and Sam. As she wiggled over however she became aware that she had grown severely wet despite her discontent.



“Fine…” Samantha replies dismissively. “Be a prude. I’m sure David will love you for that.” Samantha stabbed. Charlene slashed her eyes across Samantha with a furious glare.



“I am not a prude!” She shouted. Samantha abandoned her self-gratification and turned her body to face Charlene’s fiery stare.



“Yeah? Prove it then. Take your pants off.” She challenged. “This got David off, it’s sure as Hell gonna work for me if you shut up long enough…” She stated with agitation. “You’re the only one so far who isn’t enjoying it so I’m calling you out. You say you’re not a prude; prove it!” She demanded and then turned back towards the screen and groaned heavily as she sank her hand back into her underwear.



Charlene glared at her speechlessly. On the television, the woman was laying face down over a yoga ball that had mysteriously come out of nowhere as her young lover plowed into her from behind. Charlene however could only gaze in wonder at Samantha who despite the intensity of her recent argument had relaxed back into her efforts and was breathing heavily while she watched the movie and masturbated.



“You have no right to judge me.” She finally whispered at her friend. Samantha rocked her head to the side to regard Charlene who now was feeling more hurt than anything.



“Char, if you don’t learn to let go of yourself sexually, how do you expect this thing with David is going to play out?” She asked with a perfectly serious tone. Charlene felt stunned at the sincerity of the question. Without knowing why her hands moved of their own accord under the blanket. Samantha raised an eyebrow at her friend curiously as she offered a sly grin. Charlene stared back at her as she hooked her thumbs into the waist band of her yoga pants and raised her bottom off the sofa.



“Keep going.” Samantha encouraged. Charlene swallowed hard and began to press the fabric down until it slid past her hips to her knees. She paused, watching Samantha’s reaction which had become extremely fixated in her direction. Like a child knowing she was doing something wrong, Charlene cautiously pushed the flimsy pants over her knees and let them fall to the floor at her feet before kicking them out onto the floor under the table. “Almost there…” Samantha teased, urging her to continue. Charlene’s heart was beating at nearly debilitating pace as she ran the palm of her hand up her thigh and hooked her fingers under the edge of her thong. The second they touched the delicate throbbing flesh of her labia, Charlene shut her eyes and gasped out in pleasure. “That’s my girl!” Samantha giggled as she turned back to the television to watch the woman on scene gyrate forward forcefully each time the man sank his cock into her.



Charlene moved her fingers slowly over the slippery outer surfaces of her sex. She was far wetter than she had believed and her love channel opened in a delicious spasm, ready to except penetration. Her eyes darted between the television and Samantha who was herself, completely engrossed once again into pleasuring herself. The creature inside her growled for attention and as if to quench the fire it was breathing inside her loins, Charlene sank her fingers deeply inside herself.



“Oh God!” She gasped as her vagina twitched and clenched down on her probing fingers. Beside her Samantha groaned heavily, as if feeding her mounting lust with Charlene’s. Something about her friend so aware of her vulnerability made Charlene’s sex ignite. Feverishly she began to rock her fingers in and out of her pussy, adding her other hand into her panties to run her fingers over her clit. Charlene began to forcibly gyrate in place.



“Easy there sweetie. There’s still a lot of movie left.” Samantha teased as she pulled the quilt down into her lap. Charlene gazed in wonder as Sam used her only free hand to lift her blouse up over her braless, milky white breasts. Her nipples were flush and hard as she seized one in her finger tips, groaning heavily as she tweaked it from side to side. In her heightened hormonal state Charlene stared at them in wonder. “You can touch them if you want to.” Sam cooed as she shot her friend a sideways glance of devilish playfulness. Without thinking, Charlene pulled her moist fingers from her clit and reached out with a trembling hand. Samantha giggled and caught it in her own tenderly and placed it over her breast. Charlene squeezed gently, instantly transported back to her early college years of bisexual experimentation. Samantha’s back arched as she moaned heavily at Charlene’s touch. “Oh that feels nice…” She whispered as Charlene rolled her friends erect nipple between her shaking fingertips.



Charlene glanced back at the screen. The scene had dramatically changed. The mature lustful beauty on the television had been pulled into the pool but was leaning over the edge with her legs dangling in the water. Behind her, the young man was playfully slapping her ass with his erection. Charlene felt her inner muscles contract more tightly around her fingers, which at this point had begun to move as though their actions were as involuntary as blinking. Charlene reached across Sam’s gorgeous chest and clasped her fingers tightly around her other breasts which mashed plumply into her palm as sweetly as the first had.



“Bet you anything he’s gonna take her in the ass.” Samantha suddenly commented as she stimulated herself far more obviously under the quilt. Charlene stared intently at the screen to see that true to her friend’s prediction, the woman had reached back behind her and was now spreading her cheeks apart in her hands as the young man positioned the head of his cock against the tight puckering entrance to her rectum. Charlene’s eye widened in a rich mixture of excitement and wonder as the camera closed in on the woman’s ass opening up around the swollen mushroom head of the invading penis, allowing it effortless entry into her sucking anus. “That’s so fucking hot!” Sam cried out as she tightly gripped the breast that Charlene wasn’t fondling and began to stimulate her vagina so forcefully that the quilt over her lap drifted off her slender silky legs and onto the floor leaving both friends extremely more exposed to each other. Charlene stared down at Samantha’s finger filled panties. They were a lacy off white and soaked through. The heavy grunts of pleasure escaping the female porn stars mouth pulled her gaze back to the screen to see the young man pounding into her; the pool water around his hips splashing loudly.



“Incredible…” Charlene whispered as she watched the fullness of the man’s erection vanish and reappear from his co-star’s asshole in rapid deep movements. “I don’t know how she does that.” She added breathlessly as she pulled her hand from Samantha’s breast and used it to keep her panties to one side as she fingered herself vigorously.



“What? You mean you never…” Samantha began, her own voice almost unintelligible amidst her desperate moans of pleasure.



“I tried once…” Charlene stammered as the furious pleasure in her womb screamed at her for more. “… Back in high school. Didn’t end well!” She gasped as she found herself once again staring back down to her side at Samantha’s hand manipulating her sex under her panties. Taking notice of the attention, Samantha smiled and paused, only long enough to pull her panties completely off her legs before she spread them widely, draping one over Charlene’s knee before returning her fingers back to the devotion of her completely shaved vagina.



“Better?” She mused as she stared over at Charlene with her lower lip in her teeth. Charlene didn’t answer with anything more than a deeply appreciative nod. “Good… now what were you saying?” She asked as she turned her head back to the furious anal sex that continued on the television. Charlene, extremely tantalized with the silky feel of Sam’s draped leg on her thigh, tugged her panties further to the side to offer reciprocation as best as she could. Samantha looked down at her friends more revealed vagina and licked her lips with a giggle.



“I have no idea…” Charlene panted as she pinched her clit between her slippery fingers.



“Something about high school…” Samantha replied, her voice ripe with amusement.



“Oh…” Charlene panted. “I was saying that I tried it with a boyfriend and it didn’t work. He wouldn’t fit and it hurt; haven’t tried since.” She explained. The scene on camera had changed again. The man was now lying with his legs hanging down into the pool. The woman was riding him, his cock still buried deeply into her rectum as she planted her hands on his chest to support her movements.



“You should try with David.” Samantha moaned, pulling Charlene’s attention from the screen again to the gorgeous woman beside her so carelessly pleasuring herself.



“Yes let’s just let my son know how much of a whore his mother has become lately.” Charlene thought although the damage the suggestion had done had already redirected her thoughts to shamelessly bending over and offering her anus to her son’s throbbing cock.



“I’d be too afraid. He’s too big.” She replied instead as she attempted to redirect her thoughts from the invading fantasy by looking at the delightful mess her best friend was making between her legs. Samantha’s fingers were keeping her vaginal lips spread wide as she rapidly ran her other hand over her clit in elated ecstasy. She was staring at Charlene again, using her desire to feed her own as her eyes seemed to read Charlene’s mind.

David rested his head against his headboard, while on the other side of the wall, his mother screamed out yet another orgasm. His cock was firmly held in his hands, as his mother screaming to be fucked harder and harder. In his mind it was him, David, she was screaming for. He could feel himself getting close, but wanted to delay that pleasure, until she was done.



He gripped the base of himself, and waited for the sensation to ebb.



“Oh, fuck. Yeah, right there, baby, right there. Keep that up and you’re gonna make me cum agaaaaaaiiiiinnnnn!”



That did it, and his semen shot out, making a high arc, before landing in the towel he had laid out. He quickly started rubbing up and down his shaft, trying to prolong the pleasure as he pictured himself shooting off into his sexy mother. Her short blonde hair matted to her head with sweat, as her large tits swayed above him. He moaned louder, and hoped that they didn’t hear him next door, as his own orgasm intensified.



By the time he was done cleaning up, he could hear his dad leaving. He was taking off on another one of his trips, leaving his mother, Marion, and him alone for a couple weeks. He was in the business of restoring businesses after a fire or some other natural disaster, and his company sent him to both evaluate the estimated costs, as well as supervise the restorations. Quite often it seemed like he was gone more than he was home.



“Oh, hunny, I didn’t realize you were home,” his mom told him as he dumped his towel in the laundry. She didn’t miss what he’d dropped off, and gave a small grimace. “Heard, us huh?”



David wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed. They were like best friends, and talked about almost anything. “Sorry, mom–” Not that he really was! “–It was kinda hard NOT to.”



She grimaced again for a moment, and then shrugged it off. “Your dad will be gone for about a week this time, so it’s just us till then.”



“Yeah?” David knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking the next question. “When is Peter coming over?”



This time her grimace turned into a fully fledged scowl. “My BOSS is coming over tomorrow, so that we can discuss some insurance claims that look fraudulent.”



We both knew that was a lie, and we both knew that we both knew, but mom did try to keep up some appearances.



His mom was a horny woman, and who could blame her? At forty-five she still looked like she was in her thirties, and she worked out regularly to keep her slim frame. The only thing that wasn’t slim about her was her huge knockers, which David realized he was currently staring at.



“If you’re done ogling me, dinner will be in a couple hours, and I could use your help.” That was another great thing about his mom. She hated to order food, and they almost always had home-cooked meals.



David soon found himself peeling potatoes, while his mom worked on the rest of the food. He kept catching himself glancing at her as she worked; admiring how her hips swayed as she kneaded the hamburger, or the way her pants hugged her ass as she bent over the counter. Marion caught him looking a few times, but she just shook her head at her son’s foolishness, and continued working.



After dinner, David had some reports to fill out online for his job, and so retired to his room for the night. He was an accountant for various firms, and made good money doing it. He chose to live at home to save on the cost of rent, and be close to his mother. It wasn’t that David always thought about sex when it came to Marion. He truly loved her, and enjoyed helping her out whenever his dad was away on business. He just couldn’t help himself when he heard her having sex, or when she dressed in a sexy fashion, as she was often wont to do.



He had just finished his last report, when he heard the shower start in the hallway. David had often wondered why the master bedroom didn’t have its own bathroom, but he didn’t complain, because the hallway bathroom had one more oddity, that worked to his favor; it didn’t have a fan.



This usually meant that his mother would crack the door so that the cool air would creep in and keep the mirror from fogging up. It also meant he could get a good peek at her naked.



Unfortunately, just as he reached the crack in the door, she was slipping behind the shower curtain, cutting off his view. David was patient, however, and waited for her to finish.



He whiled away the minutes imagining her rubbing her loofah across her ample bosom, along her slender thighs, and between her succulent butt cheeks. He was already hard as a rock by the time she turned off the water.



The shower curtain was thrown back, and David failed to cover a gasp at the glorious sight before him. Water droplets covered her body, dripping off her breasts, and running down her legs. Her short hair was plastered to her head, and she wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup. He knew that some men preferred their women all dolled up, but there were times, like now for instance, that David liked the natural beauty of a woman to shine through. Her chest sagged only slightly, despite her age and having had him, and one miscarriage. After the miscarriage, his father had been fixed, not wanting to suffer that pain again. Her nipples were large and hard as the water cooled them, and sat perfectly on her mounds. Her pussy had a slight blonde fuzzy growth, which David knew she usually kept trimmed, if not shaved. From this distance, he could just make out her labia poking through her outer lips.



She grabbed a towel, and David slipped his hand down his pants, grasping himself again. His mother was a sexual goddess as far as he was concerned, and he was not in control of his lusts. In truth, it was by the barest thread of decency that stopped him from entering the bathroom and having his way with her, right then and there.



Marion bent over to dry her calves and feet, allowing David to see her brown hole and a better shot at her crotch.



As soon as she was dry, she wrapped the towel around her waist, and walked up to the fog-free mirror, breasts swaying with her movement.



This was the most dangerous time for David, as the mirror was directly in front of the crack in the door. All it would take is for a flick of her eyes to catch him staring at her, and he would be busted. There wasn’t an excuse he could come up with to explain why his face would be looking through the cracked door at his nude mother. He had to get his breathing under control, so that he wasn’t given away from the sound.



He couldn’t pull away though, as Marion placed her hands above her breasts, and lifted them by pulling her skin up, then let go, and watched them bounce. She did this a few times, grimacing, David figured, at the way they sagged. He was simply mesmerized. He watched as she leaned toward the mirror, her melons dangling from her chest, and began to tug at her face. She really didn’t look her age, but like most women, she saw flaws in herself that others were incapable of seeing, including her only child.



She pulled back, and David realized he had overstayed his luck, and had to get out of the hallway. He pulled his hand from his pants as he stood up, and started walking as normal as he could with his hard on, down the hallway. A second later, the door opened all the way, and he turned to see his mother stick her head out.



“Turn around, son. I’m coming out,” she told him when she spied him.



“I don’t understand why you don’t just wrap a towel around your whole body,” David replied as he turned around. The truth was that he didn’t want her to wrap it around her whole body, but he had to play the his part.



He didn’t hear anything in response, and turned to see that she was already in her room, the door tightly shut. David retreated to his own domain, locking the door behind him. He grabbed one of his tube socks out of his drawer. In what felt like record time, he was dumping his load into the sock, and collapsing back on his bed. That night, not for the first time, David wondered if there was some way to get his mother to sleep with him.



* * *



The following day at work, all David could think about was getting home, and hopefully catching his mother and her boss, Peter, fucking again. He had been shocked the first time he had found them together, and had confronted his mother about it as soon as Peter had left.



“I have needs too, son, and it just so happens that when your dad is away, Peter takes care of those needs,” she’d told him.



“What about dad? How do you think he would feel to know his wife was stepping out on him?” David had shot back angrily. His anger only increased when she started laughing.



“Do you think he stays celibate on his trips? Your dad is a good looking man, and he knows how to please a woman. We have an understanding: when he is home, we stay faithful to each other, but when one of us is gone, we are free to do as we like.” David had been speechless to learn this. “We both have strong sex drives, and quite frankly, it is unreasonable to expect either of us to go without a good screwing for longer than a day or two.”



Since that day, it was still a rare occurrence when he caught them. He didn’t know if it was his mother or Peter that was shy about it, but they were usually working by the time he arrived home.



David typed the last of his numbers into the spreadsheet, and double checked his math. Everything was accurate. Looking at the clock, it was about four PM. If he hurried, he might just catch them.



He broke a few speed limits on the way home, but he knew where all the speed traps were, and avoided speeding through those.



He saw Peter’s car in the driveway as he pulled in, and his heart started beating. He just might be in time!



He entered through the front door, stepping quietly, hoping to hear some moaning.



It was deadly quiet. He tip toed back to his room, and pressed his ear against the shared wall, and could hear something, but wasn’t sure what. He lithely moved back out of his room, and almost gasped as he noticed his mother’s door was cracked. She was usually more circumspect when it came to her and Peter screwing.



David dropped down to his hands and knees, and crawled to the slight opening.



The lights were off, but the thin curtains let in enough light for David to see, as soon as his eyes adjusted. Peter was on top of her, plunging in and out, as she grunted with each thrust. Her head was pointed in David’s direction, so there was no way she could see him, but for a second, he thought he had been busted by Peter.



Peter didn’t slow down, however, so David figured he was safe. He realized that the sound he had heard from his room, was his mother’s grunting, and wondered why she was being so quiet. Usually she was rather loud in her lovemaking.



Peter leaned forward, and hooked his arms under Marion’s shoulders, and pulled her back on him. “Oh, fuck!” Marion screamed as he did this, and then covered her mouth with her hand. David now had an excellent view of his mother’s ass, as she moved her hips on top of her boss.



“Let it out, baby,” David heard Peter say. “Your son won’t be home for awhile. You don’t need to be so quiet, and I love to hear moan.” Peter picked up his pace beneath her, and Marion had to place her hand against his chest to steady her at the new onslaught. She stuck her knuckle in her mouth, and David figured it was to hold back her cries. “Come on!” Peter moaned.



“I don’t want him catching us anymore,” she said, pulling her knuckle from between her teeth. “He already gives me weird looks, as it is.”



“Oh, come on! You like the way he looks at you. I’ve seen him looking at you breasts,” as he spoke, Peter began to lightly stroke Marion’s chest, “he seems to like your ass, too.”



“Stop it. He’s my son!” If David didn’t know any better, he would have thought she had moaned out that last part.



“You can’t fool me, Marion. I felt your pussy tighten as I mentioned him, and I felt you get wetter when you did.”



“No, no!” Marion whined.



“I wonder what you would do if he came in here right now and wanted to fuck you. Would you let him?”



“He is… Oh Gawd! He’s my son!” She moaned, picking up her own pace.



David didn’t know what Peter was playing at, but he was harder than he had ever been in his life. He silently unzipped his fly, and pulled out his meat. He started to stroke himself as watched his mother and Peter fucking.



“Say his name, Marion. Say your son’s name.”



“No, I can’t. Not while we’re… Ung… Yes, harder. Fuck me harder!” Peter stopped moving though, and Marion cried out in frustration. “Why’d you stop?”



“Not until you say his name,” Peter said in a tone that David knew meant business.



David watched, as Peter reached between them, and assumed he was going to play with her clit, but his mom didn’t react.



“I don’t know why you want me to. It is wrong! That’s too close to incest. I won’t–Ahhhh!” Peter must have finally touched her clit, but then he stopped again, and just looked at her, waiting.



Marion placed both her hands next to Peter’s head on the bed, and brought her face close to his. David could only imagine the serious look she was giving him. He had to strain his ears to hear what she said.



“Fine, if you want to hear me say it that badly… David.” The sound of his name as she sat atop Peter was like lightning running through his soul. He had to stop masturbating, because he was too close to blowing his load right there against the door.



As soon as she said her son’s name, Peter began to move inside her, slowly. “Say it again,” he commanded.



“Ahh, David…” this time his name came out in a definite moan, as Peter picked up his pace.



“Again,” the demand was repeated.



Marion’s hips were moving as fast as she could now, as she said it again, and again. Each time she called her son’s name, she grew louder and Peter picked up his pace.



“David, David, Awe, Fuck me, David! Fuck me harder! I’m gonna cum! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, David you’re gonna make your mom cum all over yooooouuuuuuu!” Marion began to shake and shudder and he heard Peter grunt as he started his own orgasm.



David had to run to his room, and barely made it before he shot his own load all over his carpet. He had almost lost it at her doorway, but had had just enough presence of mind to know that he couldn’t make a mess there, and left.



David quickly cleaned up his spunk, and then snuck out his window. He ran to the front door, and then took a few seconds to catch his breath. The image of his mom getting banged while she called his name and came kept running through his head.



It took longer than normal, but he was finally able to get himself under control, and he opened the door loudly, allowing it to bang against the wall. “I’m home,” he yelled, hoping that he had given them enough time to get dressed. He fervently hoped they wouldn’t suspect that he had been watching.



“Back here, son,” Marion called, and David wondered if she sounded out of breath. He went back to her room, where only minutes before, she had been screaming his name, but now looked up as Peter unscrewed a light bulb. “The light went out, and Peter was nice enough to change it for me. I can’t reach it myself,” she explained unnecessarily. David was certain it was a lie, but played along, as both were fully clothed, and there wasn’t anything other than his memory to say anything to the contrary.



Peter finally got the bulb free, and David thought he might have winked as he walked by to get another one.



“So, how was work?” Marion asked. Did she seem more nervous than usual? David wondered, but shrugged it off as his own paranoia. He started to tell her about work when Peter returned with a new bulb, and screwed it into place.



“Well, that ought to allow things to be seen better in here from now on, right David?” Why was he asking him, David wondered, but just shrugged noncommittally? “Well, Marion, I’d better get those files back to the office. We will have a busy day tomorrow, trying to prove some of those cases are fraudulent.”



Marion walked him to the door, and this time there was no mistaking the wink Peter gave him as he left. David then knew that Peter had caught him spying, and had probably said everything just for him. But the question that kept going through his mind was: why?



Dinner that night started out quiet as usual, until Marion spoke up. “When do you think you’ll find a good girl?”



This was a conversation David hated having, and she asked it all too often. Hoping to end it quickly, he told her the truth. “Just as soon as I find a woman that can possibly compare to you, mom.” That usually ended the conversation, but tonight it seemed to fail.



“And in what ways are you comparing them to me?”



David didn’t know how to answer, and started blushing instead. He couldn’t believe that at twenty-eight he could still blush like this. Well, the truth had gotten him into this mess; he would use it to get him out. “I am looking for someone who is smart, and funny, and is willing to take good care of me.”



“Is that all, David?” Did she seem disappointed? The sound of his name on her lips brought back memories of earlier that evening.



“Um… Okay. I am partial to blondes.”



“Blondes, huh? What about breasts?” To his shock, Marion cupped her large breasts through her shirt as she asked this question.



David mumbled out the truth before he could think better of it. “Yours are the perfect size.”



She just smiled, as she asked, “What about rear ends? I hear some men are really into those.”



“Yes, your butt is the nicest I’ve seen.” They had often talked about many things, including sex, but had never been this open or personal before, and David was beginning to like it.



“But we shouldn’t talk about me. I want to talk about you finding a woman for yourself.” The smile was still on her face, as she looked at him.



“What do I need a woman for, when I’ve got you?” He was surprised at the bluntness of his own statement, but relaxed as Marion giggled.



“There are some things I can’t take care of as your mother, son.”



He was about to protest this statement, but thought better of it. Despite what he had witnessed earlier that day, he didn’t dare cross that line yet. Instead he replied, “I can take care of those things myself.”



She looked at him for a few uncomfortable seconds, and then finally asked, “Do you… Um… Do you take care of those, er, things often?”



“Almost every day,” the answer was out before he could think better of it. Marion’s eyes grew large at the answer, but she dropped her gaze to her nearly empty plate.



“Eat your food, before it gets cold,” she finally said. David had forgotten that they were eating dinner. He recognized that she wanted the conversation to end, and even though he now wanted to keep it going, he had no idea how to.



That night when she showered, David was let down to find the bathroom door closed and locked.



* * *



The next couple days, David failed to catch Peter and his mother in the act, and was even surprised when they weren’t home when he got off work. He figured that they probably did it during lunch, and then drove back to their office, and an idea formed in his head.



It was Friday, and David got up as usual, drank the coffee his mom had set out for him, and then left as though he were going to work. He parked his car a couple blocks away, called to let his boss know that he was feeling sick and would be working from home, then walked back to his house.



He hid in some bushes till he saw his mom drive away, before going in, and locking the door behind him. He would make sure he was home when they came here to screw.



He opened his computer, and worked while he waited for them. Sure enough, a little after noon, he heard a car door close outside.



He flipped off his computer screen, and made sure his door was open. Jumping into his own closet, he waited to hear them pass by his room. He had left his door open so that his mother would see his room was empty, as well as being quiet when he left to spy on them.

This is an epic story of three people, a mother, father, and son, stranded on a deserted island. It is loosely based on a movie from 1974 stared in and directed by George C. Scott, named “The Savage is Loose.” Gary



*



Part 1: The Shipwreck: Turn of the 19th Century, Somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean.



It was the early 1900′s and sea travel was dangerous and reserved for the wealthiest individuals, business trade, or the very brave. Danger came in many forms, not the least of which was the unpredictable weather. Reporting of weather was crude or nonexistent and there was rarely any warning when tropical storms formed.



The Tern Schooner, Pacific Trader, had been thrashed for hours by the extreme waves brought on by a deadly typhoon. No one had predicted the storm before the ship left the port of San Francisco ten days earlier. So large and fierce was the storm that even if the captain had received a telegraph it would have been too late for the doomed ship, crew, and its three civilian passengers. The Pacific Trader was a thousand miles from the nearest deep water port, sailing on the wide open Pacific Ocean, headed for the Philippine Islands. While it was a fast vessel, it was no match for the huge and fast moving storm.



Walter Anderson, his wife, Grace, and their son, Thomas, were preparing to undress for the night when they began to hear screams of terror from the main deck outside their cabin. Peering out into the black night Walter saw a flash of lightning which highlighted a giant wave thundering onto the deck. The brief moment of light enabled him to witness the crew struggling hopelessly to free lifeboats. Then another flash of light and another wave crashed across the deck. One moment the crew was there and the next the deck was a mass of turbulent water washing away the six poor souls.



Walter rushed his family onto the deck in a desperate attempt to find a life boat, but they had all been ripped from their moorings and torn to shreds by the angry sea. Seconds later Walter and his family were clinging to the railing for their lives. Salt water stung their skin as the hurricane force winds whipped the salty spray across the deck. Chairs, ship parts, deck equipment, and anything not tied down thrashed too and fro on the swaying deck. Loud crashes echoed from stem to stern of the doomed vessel.



Suddenly a giant lookout tower snapped and crashed just feet from the three desperate family members. Walter screamed for his wife to jump into the water. Grace grabbed Thomas and they jumped over the side, plunging into the dark, churning water and quickly sinking under the thirty foot waves. Mother and son clung together as they somehow pulled themselves to the surface. Now they were above the swirling waves and saw Walter jump over the side and disappear into the murky water as they had done moments earlier.



After a few tense moments Walter surfaced and swam to them, helping Grace and Thomas onto a large plank of wood torn from the rapidly submerging ship. Seconds later the ship moaned like a beached whale and then snapped into two pieces. A loud groan screeched above the screaming wind and thundering sea and suddenly most of the ship disappeared under the breaking waves.



The three survivors clung to each other for their lives as the storm tossed their makeshift raft without mercy. Hours passed as the three lay on their stomach gripping pieces of rope tied to the wood beneath them as the storm raged into the night. Near dawn the sea suddenly lost it’s fury, the rain ceased, and wind abated. Somehow the Anderson family had survived the night.



When dawn finally arrived the sun was shining brightly and a gentle breeze belied what had happened hours before. On the surface lay what remained of the once proud Pacific Trader. Pieces of the ship, equipment, and personal remains of the crew floated on the now tranquil sea. Walter, Grace, and Thomas were the only survivors.



Just before dawn, as the storm had begun to ease, the three had fallen into a deep sleep. Grace was the first to awaken. When she opened her eyes she thought it had been a terrible dream, but the sound of waves lapping at the raft quickly reminded her that it was only too real. She shook Walter and he opened his eyes and briefly smiled before he too realized what he thought was a nightmare was in fact true.



The two stared out at the vast ocean and could see the debris of the ship they had been aboard just hours earlier. Despair overcame them as violently as the storm that had overcome the ship. With nothing but the tattered clothes on their backs they were doomed to die of thirst or be eaten by sharks.



A few minutes later Thomas awaken and sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he saw the fear on his mother and father’s face he knew something was seriously wrong. “What happened?” he asked. Looking around he could see nothing but ocean. His eyes grew wide with fright and he said, “Are we going to die?”



Grace reached to comfort him. “It will be okay. They will be searching for us. There are lots of ships in this area and we will be rescued soon.”



Unfortunately the odds were against them ever being found. They were the only civilian passengers on the ship and, while the company would certainly search for them, there were thousands and thousands of square miles to search. The storm had pushed them hundreds of miles from their original route and now they were a thousand miles from the nearest inhabited land in an area known as a graveyard for wayward ships. Dozens of ships had been lost in this area over the decades and none had ever been found.



Walter cleared his throat so that Grace would look over at him. She saw him nodding for her to look down. She almost gasped when she realized that her shirt had been torn to shreds and her breasts were totally exposed. She tried to pull her jacket closed but it was in tatters as well. She looked at Walter and he shrugged. Her face turned red and she covered her exposed breasts with her arms.



The three of them floated aimless on the wayward currents for several days, without food, water, or the ability to catch fish. Grace, a modest woman, was mortified that she could not properly cover herself, not to mention the embarrassment of having to perform bodily function just feet away from not only her husband but also her son.



On the fifth morning, Walter shook Grace to awaken her. “Look, look, is that land?” he asked excitedly, hoping it was not another mirage. They had begun to hallucinate from dehydration and believed they had seen land on numerous occasions.



“It looks like it,” Grace answered, “But we have been mistaken before.”



“No, no, I think it really is land this time.”



Grace began to feel excitement building. She woke Thomas. “Look, Thomas, it’s land.”



The small dot appeared to be several miles away. Excitedly Walter pulled a piece of wood from their small raft and began to paddle frantically. When he grew tired, Thomas took over. As the land grew closer and closer they grew more excited. It took several long hours of fighting the outgoing tide and the treacherous currents before they eventually reached the island. Exhausted the three of them pulled themselves through the waist deep water and onto the beach before collapsing. They lay on their backs in the sand, gasping for breath, their hearts pounding, feeling exhausted but grateful to be alive.



“We made it,” Grace exclaimed when she had caught enough breath to speak.



“I wouldn’t get too excited yet,” Walter cautioned as he pulled himself to his feet. “We are a thousand miles from nowhere and it is unlikely that this is an inhabited island.”



“But there should be food and water here, right?”



Always the practical one, Walter said, “I hope so. We need to find some fresh water quickly.”



They were extremely thirsty and hungry and the sun had toasted every exposed body part, but other than a few bruises they were okay.



Walter said to Grace, “You and Thomas get out of the sun and I will see what I can find.”



Walter searched for only a few minutes before he found a fresh water spring not far from shore. He realized that this would be a good place for them to make a camp while he checked out the island and found them something to eat. The spring was surrounded by a stand of trees and would provide a modicum of protection from the elements. He hurried back to Grace and Thomas to tell them the good news.



After they were settled Walter explored the island for hours, making his way to the highest point. There he could survey the entire island. It was small, maybe three miles in length and about as wide, and he could see from one end to the other. He could see birds flying and small animals scurrying around in the forest. Although small, the island appeared to have enough wildlife and vegetation for them to survive for some time. Then he saw something on the rocks near the northern most point of the island. It appeared to be debris of some kind. He tried not to get too excited as he made his way down the slope and to the shore. When he was close he realized with growing excitement that it was debris from the ship. In fact an entire section of the ship was perched precariously on the wave beaten rocks.



Amazingly he found a suitcase of clothes belonging to Grace. It wasn’t all of her clothes by any means and most of it was not appropriate for their environment, but it was far better than nothing. He also found various utensils for eating and cooking. They could use what was left of the ship to build a shelter. He knew he had to hurry and strip the remains of the ship before the tide carried the most valuable things away.



Over the next several days Walter found enough material to make a crude tree house in which they could live for the time being. He would have rather built something on the ground, but he didn’t know if there were dangerous animals on the island and wasn’t going to take a chance of being prey to a prowling cat. He used wood and other furnishings from the ship until it ran out. Then he constructed the rest with branches and vines from the island. Over time he added comforts to the house including a means to transport water from the pond up to the house with a lever system. Grace used fabric from sails to create curtains to give them some privacy and a bit of protection from the elements. The house was rustic but nice considering their environment and the lack of tools.



Walter’s ability to build came naturally. Although he worked for an import/export company, his family had been carpenters and builders and he was an engineer by trade.



After several weeks they had established a routine of sorts. Walter and Thomas would gather fruit and editable plants as well as catch small fish with nets and crude spears. Grace made their meager surroundings as pleasant as possible with the limited materials she had found on the ship. She was not a great cook, but she knew enough to put together fairly nutritional meals with fruits and plants provided by Walter. Fortunately the weather was great and vegetation seemed plentiful. The island was beautiful and if they had not been stranded it would have seemed like a South Seas island vacation.



While Grace was happy to be alive and happy for the rustic and crude surroundings provided by Walter, she couldn’t imagine living like this for months or even years. She had never been the outdoors type. Her family was well off and had been able to send her to the best private schools. She married young, and had given birth to Thomas when she was only eighteen. Walter was a good bit older then she was and had turned forty the year they were married. Because Walter worked for an import/export company, they had lived all over the world; some nice places, and some not so nice. At times she lived in places where she didn’t speak a single word of the language. However, she was a dutiful wife and followed her husband wherever he went, never living in one place for more than a couple of years.



Nomad life had been hard on her, but she knew it was even harder on Thomas. They had the money to send him to the best private schools, or even a boarding school, but because they were rarely in one place for more than a year or two, she had taken him with them and had home schooled him. It was the best solution, she believed, under difficult circumstances. As a result Thomas went through his school years without ever experiencing the benefits of socialization that most kids received in public or even private schools. He never had a chance to date, pal around with friends, or even experience the life lessons learned from the mischief kids inevitably got into. More importantly he had missed the dating and courting process that schools facilitated and he had no opportunity to associate with kids his own age. It was something Grace regretted now.



Walter spent his days forging for food and fishing. Grace and Thomas were together much of the day and, while they were already closer than the typical mother and son, they grew even closer. Grace had tried to avoid being over protective but worried that Thomas’ lack of social interaction, due to home schooling, would be a major issue if they were rescued. Thomas, at eighteen, was more immature than his age would suggest.



She had seen Thomas begin to grow and mature while they were in San Francisco. Grace was growing comfortable there and had hoped that it was their last move. But, unfortunately, the Asian branch of Walter’s business had begun to suffer under poor management. Walter knew they needed to take swift action if it was to survive. Grace hated moving again, and all the grief that came with it, but ultimately agreed that it was critical to the business. Thomas wasn’t wild about moving either but he begrudgingly agreed, with the promise that they would send him back to live with relatives in the States if he didn’t like it. So the family packed their possessions and hitched a ride on a company cargo ship bound for the Philippine Islands.



Grace had considered staying in the States with Thomas until Walter returned, but her family were traditionalists and all of her life she was told that a wife obeyed her husband and did as he asked; it was for the good of the family. More importantly she worried about the impact of separating him from his father. While Walter worked long hours he was nonetheless a male role model for his son.



Over the past several years Grace had become disillusioned with her marriage to Walter. The great difference in their ages had placed a strain on them from the very beginning. They were from very different generations, and while Walter had always treated her well, much of the time she felt isolated. Most of his friends and associates were older than she was and it was difficult for her to develop relationships. It was even more difficult for her to identify with Walter and his views of the world.



Her marriage was not exactly arranged but she never felt she had a choice. Her family’s business was having financial difficulties and a union between her and Walter would bolster their prestige as well as their finances. Like a good daughter she obeyed her parents.



Walter was a good man and while she believed she loved him, she didn’t really know what love was all about. She had never really experienced the kind of love she read about in classical novels and plays of the time; the kind where the damsel in distress was whisked away by a knight in shining armor. She knew that was mostly fantasy but wondered if something in between was possible.



Grace was a very tall and attractive woman with a great shape. Her breasts were larger than many of her female friends and stood up proudly with little or no support. Her skin was creamy brown and she had dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Her Eurasian heritage gave her a sultry look and at an early age she fantasized about being a model in the booming garment industry in New York or San Francisco. Her marriage had put an end to that dream. Now she found herself marooned on a deserted island with little possessions beyond the clothes on her back.



While she was ecstatic that Walter had found a suitcase with clothes, none of them were meant for wilderness living. The most protective clothing was a pair of riding pants and boots that she took everywhere she traveled; one of her first loves was horses and horseback riding. Also in the suitcase were three pair of shorts, some pants, which she would have never worn in public, several blouses and tops, and a few pair of panties. There were no dresses or support undergarments, like a corset or bras, and while the lack of dresses was not a problem, the lack of support undergarments could be. Her nipples had always been very sensitive and now, without protection from the fabric of her tops, they seemed to be perpetually hard. She knew that she would have to be careful around Thomas.



Grace had always been a highly sexual woman and at 36 was in her prime sexual peak. She worried that she was going to wear Walter out; now in his late 50′s. He was not nearly as interested in sex as she was. Incredibly, in spite of their desperate situation, Grace found that her desires had not dwindled. She was a woman in her prime and, contrary to how women were supposed to feel, she had a fire inside that seemed to have grown hotter in the past couples of years. She had made several attempts since they reached the island to entice Walter into sex but it hadn’t worked out. Unfortunately they had little or no privacy and had not been intimate since leaving San Francisco weeks ago. If they could get some private time maybe the two of them could slip off and … well, she didn’t want to get carried away with thinking sexual thoughts; she had Thomas to think about and he wouldn’t understand.



Grace knew that Thomas, as a normal teenager, was very aware of her and had seen him studying her recently. Of course she wasn’t surprised that he showed signs that he was aware of the female form; he was a normal teenager with raging hormones. In spite of her sexual desires she was a modest woman and did her best to avoid exposing herself unnecessarily. Unfortunately she had slipped several times and he had seen more than he should have. She was still embarrassed that he had seen her bare breasts while on the raft. Even in that difficult situation she could tell that he had been excited. What she couldn’t admit, even to herself, was how his glances made her feel in her most private place.



Chapter 2



When weeks turned into months and still there was no rescue, Grace and Walter began to give up hope. They kept it to themselves and tried to put on a brave front for Thomas. They were always positive saying that they were sure that many searchers were looking for them and it would only be a matter of time before they were found. They were not sure that Thomas believed them as he was an intelligent boy and could certainly comprehend their desperate situation on his own.



Unfortunately as time went on it became more and more difficult for Grace to keep a positive attitude. Her greatest concern was for Thomas. There was a pain and overwhelming sadness in her heart for him. It appeared that he might never experience all the things teenagers should experience: he would not go to college, learn a trade, or even find a girl to marry. Even worse, without doctors, hospitals, and medicine, his life could be cut short. It was almost too sad to think about.



In spite of her misgivings about being rescued, Grace continued Thomas’s formal education as best she could. She was not college educated, having married so young, and she did not have the skills to go much further with his education, but she believed she could still teach him the more genteel things in life; like how a gentleman treated ladies, social graces, and of course manners. She prayed that he would actually need those skills one day.

Walter, oh the other hand, was convinced that she was wasting his time. He believed the boy needed to learn survival skills; the things that would keep him alive when he was no longer there to hunt, fish, and protect him. He knew that in this hostile environment even a minor mistake in judgment could be fatal. He also did not want his son to be a wimp, but, unfortunately, it certainly appeared that he was well on his way. He saw him clinging to the skirt tails of his mother.



As a result Walter began to resent Grace monopolizing so much of his time. Yet he gritted his teeth and accepted it begrudgingly because he knew coming between a mother and son could be counter-productive under the best circumstances, and family squabbles could divert their critical focus on survival.



Grace, of course, could feel the tension with Walter. In spite of that she had insisted that she continue Thomas’ education. After much discussion they agreed that she would have several hours of uninterrupted time each day with Thomas and then Walter could have him for the rest of the daylight hours.



Walter wasn’t pleased, but took what he could get. Over time he taught Thomas to track and hunt as well as spot the types of plants and roots that were editable. Thomas had picked it up quickly, but Walter that he would rather be reading or reciting poetry to his mother.



Grace made sure that she used the time she had with Thomas wisely and felt it was very important that they not be interrupted. She found a place off the beaten path; a beautiful lagoon with a water fall, where they could have uninterrupted time together. There she worked with him to insure that he maintained his math and reading skills. While they had no writing materials, they had found a number of books from the ship and she had Thomas read to her every day. She would give him math problems to solve mentally and have him recite the times table. She even gave him homework problems.



Beyond the education, she and Thomas came to love the personal time together. Thomas would often brush her long hair as she sat on the rocks overlooking the lagoon. They both enjoyed also him reading and reciting poetry. In addition they spent time talking about life and their feelings about everything from religion to politics. The only exception was sex. Anytime the subject came up Grace would divert the conversation or gently end their session. She did not feel qualified to discuss sexual matters with a teenaged boy. Yet she knew that at some point it would have to come up. Her plan was to send him to his father. Unfortunately she knew that Walter would not answer his questions either. When the subject finally came up it caught her totally off guard.



Thomas was brushing her hair one afternoon at the lagoon when he said, “Mom, I saw you and Father last night.”



“Saw us?” she asked.



“Yes. You and dad were in bed.”



Grace could feel her face flush and she trembled. She knew what he was talking about. She and Walter finally thought they had enough privacy to make love. Obviously it wasn’t so private. “You should not be spying on us?” she said with more anger than she intended.



“I wasn’t spying. I couldn’t help see you two; my bed is just across the hut.”



Grace knew he was right. She and Walter had known it was a risk.



“Will I ever get the chance to do that with a girl?” he asked. “I mean, I have never been on a date, or even kissed a girl, and now it looks like it will never happen.”



“Of course it will, because we will be rescued.” Grace felt a pain in her heart at perpetuating what she knew was a lie.



“Come on, Mom, it is not going to happen and you know it. Nobody is looking for us any longer. We are alone here, maybe forever.” He paused for a few moments before he said in a quiet voice, “You have Dad, and I have nobody.”



Grace turned to him and put her arm around his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Thomas, it is hard on your father and me, but I know it is hardest on you. But we can’t give up hope for our future.”



“What future?” he spat. “We have no future. It’s all Dads fault. I hate him.” He threw the hairbrush down and turned away from his mother. She hugged his back as tears fell. He was silent for a while, obviously trying to control his emotions. He knew it wasn’t her fault that they were there. It was his father’s career that always came first. They never stayed anywhere long enough for him to have friends or put down roots and now he had gotten them into this fix.



Thomas softened his tone and said, “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t blame you. I’m trying not to hate Dad either. But I am growing up and … I have these all these emotions going through me. I feel like my life is slipping away.”



“I know, Sweetheart, I know,” Grace said.



Thomas continued, “I just … I have these feelings, you know, inside, and I don’t know what to do about them. My body has changed and I have grown up physically but mentally I … I think I am falling behind. I try to think about other things but most of the time it doesn’t work. I sometimes think I am going mad. And then I saw and heard you and Dad. I know you were having sex, but I don’t even know the first thing about it. I tried to ask Dad, but he just yelled at me, saying that I should keep my mind on survival and out of the gutter.”



Grace winced at his words. “I am not a very good person to ask about these things,” she said weakly. “You know that your father has been my only partner and when I was growing up no one talked about those things, at least to a girl.”



“Dad won’t answer my questions and you won’t, so who do I ask about it? Maybe I should talk to the birds or the fish.”



Grace sighed. She knew she had no choice. She would have to be the one to teach him. Still, although she knew a great deal more than he did, she didn’t know that much about sex either. After several long minutes she said, “Okay. But you have to understand that I am no expert.”



“You know a lot more than I do.”



“I was eighteen when I married your father and I had never dated anyone else. Our families expected us to get married, because it was best for them and the two businesses. So, while it wasn’t exactly an arranged marriage, it was not my choice either. In many ways I am like you. I didn’t have my teenaged years. Your father and I only knew each other for a few months before we were married.”



Then he asked a question that shocked her, and she wasn’t prepared to answer. “Do you love him?”



She hesitated for several long moments before she said, “Yes, I … I suppose so.”



“You made love to him, so you must love him.”



“Married people do that.”



“Why?”



“Well, to procreate the species.”



“What is ‘procrate’?”



“The word is procreate, and it means making babies.”



“Oh.”



“Procreating is the way the species survives and most people want their family name to survive. It is inbred in all animals, including humans. Without procreation, families and society would end.”



A smile came to Thomas’ face. “You and Dad could make more babies and I would at least have brother and sisters.”



Grace didn’t return his smile. “We tried to have more children for years and years, but unfortunately your father cannot make any more children. He is a lot older than I am and when men get older they lose their ability to make babies. We think it might have been when he got sick early in our marriage. He got the mumps.”



“But I saw the two of you making love, so if you cannot make babies why do you do it?”



Grace sighed. “Because it feels good, and people, men and women, have been endowed with sexual desire by our creator in order to insure that the species survives.”



Thomas looked confused.



“Let me explain it this way. Sexual desire is a natural part of our lives. It is a motivating factor for all species. I am sure the feelings you are having are perfectly normal. Sexual feelings begin in the early teens or earlier. All animals, especially humans, have sexual desire inbred in them. We satisfy that desire by making love and that, in turn, creates babies.”



Thomas nodded. “So is the primary reason for making love to make babies or for pleasure?”



“Both.”



Thomas was silent for a few moments and then he said, “This is going to sound really dumb but how do babies get made exactly? I mean I know a little about it, but not much. You’ve taught me everything, but we have never discussed sex.”



Grace could feel her face flushing hot. “I suppose I was waiting until you were older, or maybe hoping that you would learn it on your own. I’m sorry I didn’t make it a part of your education.” She paused for long moments to get her thoughts together. “Let me see if I can make this simple. When the man gets excited and his thing … uh … penis gets hard, he gets an erection, and then he puts it into the woman. That is called intercourse. He moves it back and forth and eventually he shoots the seed into the woman. The sperm, as it is called, travels up the woman’s canal until it reaches an egg and they mate. Nine months later a baby is born.” She paused, feeling proud that she had made it seem so simple. Then she said, “That is the condensed version.”



“I know what an erection is,” he said with a smile.



“I figured you did,” Grace said returning the smile.



“So sperm is that white stuff that comes out?” he said.



“Yes and no. The white stuff, as you call it, is actual called semen and is mostly protein. It is the liquid that your body produces to protect and carry the sperm. Sperm is the life giving force. From what I understand there are millions of them and each one carries what and who you are on to the next generation. The woman produces one egg per month and the millions of sperm battle to be the one that inseminates the egg, making the woman pregnant.” Grace paused and then said, “There is a lot more to it and it is complicated. Does any of this make sense?”



“Yes, I think so. So you and Dad have the desire to make love and you do it, but not always to make babies. And Dad can’t make babies anyway.”



“Yes. However, even if a man has lots of sperm a baby it not always made. You remember when we saw the baby sea turtles rushing to the water the other day?”



“Yes.”



“Many of them do not survive the trip to the water and then many more are eaten by fish once they get to the water. Only the strongest survive and they in turn have been given the desire to mate with other sea turtles and the species lives on. It is the same with sperm. They are all making the dash for the water, so to speak, but the difficulty of the trek and chemicals inside the woman prevent all but a very few from making it to the end. And then only one, or sometimes two, the strongest, are able to penetrate the woman’s egg.”



Thomas summarized what he thought his mother was saying. “So we were given the desire to mate and it is a natural part of our being. You and Dad make love because it feels good even if he cannot make you pregnant. It satisfies a desire.”



“Yes, that is exactly right. It feels good and it is a way to show love.” Incredibly this discussion had made Grace’s heart beat faster and her nipples had grown hard under her top. She was wearing a thin top, riding pants and boots. The shirt was too thin, allowing the soft flesh of her large breasts and pink nipples to be seen if the light was right. The pants were a little too tight on her butt and across her groin and she could now feel the seam rubbing between her legs.



“We love each other, Mother and we don’t make love,” he said with a cock of his head and a little smile.



Grace’s face glowed hot. “That is different. We are mother and son.”



Thomas was silent for a long while before he said rather sadly, “Mother, if we stay on the island forever, I will never get a chance to make love.”



Suddenly the tone of the discussion had changed. Grace felt her heart breaking. His words were true and there was nothing she could say to make him feel better. “We will not stay here forever. We will be rescued,” she said unconvincingly. Then she added as brightly as possible, “Now I think that is enough about the birds and bees for today.”



“Birds and bees … I thought we were talking about men and women making love,” he said, a smile coming to his face.



Grace returned his smile. “Don’t get impertinent, young man,” she said as she reached over and tickled him. Thomas fought playfully and tried to tickle her. In their laughter they tumbled across the ground with Grace landing under Thomas. Suddenly he was on top of her with his hips between her thighs. Just as suddenly their laughter stopped. Somewhere during the conversation Thomas had gotten an erection. Grace felt his hardness pressing to her strangely tingling private parts.



“Is this how you and Father do it?” Thomas asked breathlessly, pressing his erection to his mother’s crotch.



“Thomas, get off of me this instant. This is inappropriate,” she said. She pushed Thomas off and hurried off down the hill toward the camp without looking back.



Thomas wondered what he had done wrong. He couldn’t understand why his mother had gotten so upset. He never wanted to hurt her and he wasn’t trying to have sex with her. He was confused. When he got back to the hut he saw his mother preparing dinner. “Mother,” he said with tears in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”



Grace turned around ready to admonish him again when she saw her son’s repentant tears and her heart melted. She pulled him to her for a tight hug. “I know. I know,” she whispered as tears suddenly streamed down her cheeks. She held him tightly for a long time.



After a few moments Thomas said, “Can we still … talk about … uh … things?”



Grace pushed him to arm’s length and looked into his eyes. “Yes, but you have to promise to behave yourself.”



Thomas smiled through his tears. “I’ll try,” he said as he wiped his eyes.



Grace returned his smile and hugged him to her heaving breasts again, suddenly wondering if she could “behave” herself.



Chapter 3



Grace began to have second thoughts about their meeting place. It was quite private and maybe just a little too remote. The trail leading to the rock was hidden and once they were there they could not be seen. With the exception of the top of the rocks above them, which was difficult to get to, they were totally hidden. Then Grace wondered why she was so concerned. After all the was the adult and she could control the situation … at least she hoped she could.



For several weeks the conversation stayed mostly about the basics of reading and writing. However, she knew that sex was always on Thomas’s mind and she dreaded the continued conversation. But as expected, Thomas brought it up again.



“Mother, uh, I have a question,” he said.



“Sure, you know you can ask me anything.”



“Well, uh … it is kind of personal.”



Grace felt her face flush and knew what was coming. “Uh … go on.”



“You know we talked about … we uh … we talked about sex and stuff,” Thomas stuttered. “Sometimes I get an … you know, an erection and I am not sure why. I mean it is not always when I am thinking about sex.”



Grace giggled. “That happens sometimes in the morning when you have to go to the bathroom. It happens to your father. That is healthy.”



Thomas smiled. “Oh. Then lots of times I have these strange dreams at night and it gets hard. And then I … I … you know get all wet and stuff. Is something wrong with me? I mean it is like I am trying to make a baby without a woman.”



Grace had to smile again. “Nothing is wrong with you, Thomas. What is happening is perfectly natural,” Grace answered with a slight blush.



Thomas thought for a few moments and said, “Sometimes … I … uh … touch myself, but I have been afraid to do it too much. I mean it feels good and the stuff comes out, but … I … don’t want to do it too much because I’m afraid I might hurt myself. Can I do that too much?”



Grace laughed out loud, putting her hand over her mouth, and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry. It is not funny … it is cute.”



Thomas’s face turned red with embarrassment.



Grace moved to sit next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you can’t hurt yourself. A boy playing with himself is perfectly natural.”



“Really?” he said, his face brightening.



“Yes, really.”



“Do you do it?” he asked.



That sent a shock through Grace. She paused for several long moments wondering if this was too personal. Yet she knew that he didn’t have anyone else to ask. She had to tell the truth. “Yes, sometimes.”



“You don’t have a penis like me, right?” He waited for Grace to nod and then asked, “So how do you do it?”



Grace wondered if he was only acting ignorant now. She couldn’t be sure so she had to answer. “I have a vagina and has an opening where the penis goes.”



“I know that,” he said as if he had not just learned it. After a pause he said, “So how do you do it then, you know, pleasure yourself?”



Grace felt her face glowing hotter. “Well … uh … the vagina is very sensitive and it feels good to rub it. There are lips that protect the opening and they swell with blood and become very sensitive to the touch. Then there is a special place at the top of the vagina and it has the same type of sensation as the head of the penis. In fact it is kind of like a little penis head. Instead of stroking it with my hand I rub it with my finger tips.”



“But since you have Dad, why do you need to do it like I do?”



“Well, sometimes we need to do it on our own. Only we can know what is the most pleasurable to our own bodies. So while many women feel guilty about doing it to themselves, most do. Women, based on our sexually repressed society, are not supposed to enjoy sex.”



“Why not?”



“I don’t know. Our backward society says that it is wrong. Women can’t even vote.”



“So all women do it then?”



“Yes, all women masturbate … that is the word for it … masturbate … if they are normal.”



“Sometimes when I do it my thingie, uh penis, gets kind of raw. And sometimes it just kind of goes off too quickly.”



Grace’s face was bright red, but she laughed and said, “That’s because you need lubrication to keep down the friction. As far as doing it too quickly, you need patience and to take your time. It is all about pleasuring yourself while you are doing it and not just climaxing. The climax is great, but it is the end.”



Thomas nodded.



“Unfortunately many men don’t care how fast they climax. That means that many times, when they are done having intercourse, the woman is not satisfied.” Grace thought for a moment and then reached into her satchel and pulled out a coconut that was cut in half but wrapped back together with a vine. She handed it to him. “Here, take this. It has cream inside that I use to put on my body. If you put it on your hand and rub your penis it will make it more pleasureable.”



He took the coconut and said, “What about going off … you know getting off too fast?”



“‘Getting off’ as you call it, is climaxing and you have to practice in order to make it last longer. When you do it, take it slow, let it build up. When you feel too close, slow down or stop. With practice you can solve that problem.”



Thomas smiled and said, “I can do that … practice that is.”



“I bet you can,” Grace returned, holding back her smile this time. “A man climaxing too fast is rude and selfish. So if you practice delaying your climax you will be able to last longer and one day when you meet that special woman you will be ready.”



Thomas chose his words carefully. “Okay. But since I don’t have a girlfriend or a wife, and may never have one, I am not sure that matters.”



“It does matter,” Grace said, trying to keep a slight hysteria from her voice. “First of all the pleasure is better when you take your time, but beyond that, we have to keep up hope that we will get off this island one day. You need to be ready for that in all ways.” Grace felt frustration coming over her and knew she had to end the conversation. “Now run along and find your father.”

The following day they were back at the lagoon. After reading several chapters Thomas paused. “Mom, I tried the cream you gave me.”



“Good,” Grace said, not wanting to ask the next question, but knew Thomas was waiting for it. She said, “And did it help?”



“Well, yes and no. It felt really good and I didn’t get red, but it made me climax even quicker.”



Grace sighed.



“It is frustrating and I don’t know what to do about it,” Thomas said.



Suddenly there were crazy thoughts in Grace’s head. She tried to control her breathing as her heart started to race. The mother in her was screaming no, but her female in her was saying he needs help. The female won. She knew what she was about to do was against all the rules, and maybe she had gone mad, but these were desperate times and she knew that quite possibly they would never leave this island. With her head spinning with illicit excitement she reached into her satchel and pulled out her coconut cream. She opened it and said, “Take some of my cream on your hand.”



With a curious look Thomas took the container and scooped out some of the creamy oil. He held it in his hand and looked at his mother quizzically.



She knew that his father was gathering oysters near the wreckage and would be there most of the day. She turned back to him and said, “I will turn around. You take it … your penis out … and I will tell you what to do.”



“Really?” Thomas said with a wide grin. Hurrying in case she changed her mind, Thomas opened his pants and brought his already erect penis out quickly. He saw his mother glance at him for a second before she turned her head.



Grace’s face turned red when she realized he had seen her looking. She cleared her throat, and tried to calm her voice as she said, “Put the cream on … on your … your penis. Then begin to stroke it slowly, lightly.”



“Mmmm,” Thomas moaned as he felt the slick cream sliding up and down his penis. He started to stroke himself faster, which made a slapping sound.



“Not that fast. Do it slowly. You want to make it last. The buildup is very important to the overall pleasure.” She smiled in spite of what she was doing when she heard his moan of frustration. “Think about your favorite fantasy.”



“You,” he said softly, almost imperceptibly.



Grace heard it and shivered. She felt the heat gathering between her legs. It was insane, but she wanted to touch herself. Her hand secretly moved between her legs and her fingers pressed the seam of her riding britches between her pussy lips.



“I am getting close,” Thomas said breathlessly.



“No, not yet, slow down and make it last. I will tell you when you can finish.”



With another moan of frustration, Thomas slowed his hand movements.



“Stop stroking and use your fingers under the crown of the head and twist them slowly, with a gentle touch,” Grace directed. “That should feel very good.”



Another moan escaped his lips.



As Grace moved her fingers up and down the seam of her pants she said, “Stop for a moment or two.” She heard another moan. A few moments later she said, “Now, start again, but slowly. Slowly.” Grace was light headed now. Maybe it was sun stroke that was making her crazy like this, but she felt she could climax right there, sitting in front of her son as he stroked his cock.



“Mother … I’m getting close again.”



“No,” she said with a commanding voice. “Wait … make it last.”



This went on for about fifteen minutes until Grace knew that neither she nor he could wait much longer.



“Okay, you can do it faster now,” she said with a tremor in her voice. She heard him groan and then she clamped her legs together as her pussy began to pulse. The throbbing grew stronger with every moan escaping her son’s lips. Then she heard a loud groan and knew that he was climaxing. She couldn’t help sneaking a look at her son’s spewing cock.



A gasp escaped her lips and suddenly a strong climax shook her. She squeezed her legs together tightly. It was an incredible climax, one like she had not felt in years. She shook and almost lost her balance. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard Thomas still gasping and moaning.



When the waves of pleasure finally abated she turned around and saw her son sitting with his eyes closed in post climatic pleasure, his now flaccid penis was lying on his leg. There was juice on the thigh of his pants and a string of it was hanging from the slit. Then she saw that most of his juices had spattered on her boot.



As Grace stared she had an incredible urge to touch herself again.



“That was really good,” he said with a smile.



Grace smiled in spite of the building shame at what she had allowed to happen. “Put yourself away,” she said motioning toward his flaccid penis, her eyes lingering just a bit longer than they should have.



“Oh, sorry,” Thomas said with his face turning red. After he was buttoned up he put his cutest smile on his face. He said, “Mother, can we do this again?”



Grace sighed. Could they? Would they? She wasn’t sure. She said, “We will see. But now you need to head down to the beach and help your father.”



Thomas jumped up and started to leave. Then he paused and quickly bent over and kissed his mother on the lips. “Thank you, Mom. You know, for … well for everything. You are the best mother on this island.”



Grace felt a tingle in her private place, but then she laughed and said, “Only the island?”



“This is our world, so it is the entire world for me.” With that he turned and walked down the trail toward the beach looking back at his mother with a smile as he went.



Grace sighed and leaned back on her hands with her face lifted to the bright sun. The tropical breeze fanned her still heated face and her hair swirled around her. Her nipples remained hard under her thin shirt. Unable to stop herself she moved her hands between her legs and began to rub her pussy again. When she climaxed this time, as much as she fought it, her thoughts were of her son.



Chapter 4



“Mom, aren’t we going to the lagoon today?” Thomas asked the next day when his mother showed no indication that she was getting ready to go.



Grace told Thomas that she wasn’t feeling well and that they would have to wait a few days for any further lessons. She wasn’t entirely lying as her period had started. But there was another reason … she was worried about being alone with him again. She could see that Thomas was upset but she convinced herself that it was unavoidable. She remembered the looks he had been giving her since she allowed him to masturbate and it was disquieting to say the least.



Two days later Grace was at the lagoon for her daily bath when she felt that she was being watched. As she stood ankle deep in the water she glanced up at the rocks but couldn’t see anything. She wondered if Thomas had followed her to the lagoon. Since the incident the other day Thomas had been following her around like a lost puppy dog. She knew it was infuriating Walter but it was also cute.



Grace glanced around the rocks above her again and then the trees circling the lagoon and saw movement. For a while she acted like she did not know he was there. She used a hand towel and her homemade soap to lather her breasts, spending a lot of time on her swollen nipples. She knew what she was doing was wrong, letting Thomas watch her, but she couldn’t stop herself. Suddenly a large rock slipped loose from the higher rocks and plunged into the water about ten feet away from her. “Thomas, come on out. I know you are there. Stop hiding, please.”



A moment later a sheepish Thomas emerged from the bushes on top of the boulders.



“Come down here, now,” Grace said commandingly.



Thomas carefully made his way down the rocks until he was near the water. Grace stood on the edge of the water holding one arm over her bare breasts and her other hand covering her private parts with a wash cloth. “It is too dangerous for you to be up there and I want you to stop spying on me, young man and to stay off those rocks.”



“I’m sorry, Mother. I just wanted to … to … see,”



“I know what you wanted to see.” Grace’s already hard nipples began to tingle when she saw the wide eyed stare of her son. “They are only breasts. All women have them.”



“They are beautiful breasts. They are the prettiest I have ever seen,” he said almost in a whisper.



Grace felt a chill run down her spine and she unconsciously thrust her breasts outward, keeping her arms covering most of her breast flesh. “So how many naked women’s breasts have you seen?” she asked.



“Not many … uh …I mean breasts that were actually bare, but yours are just as pretty bare as they are with your shirt on.”



“Thank you. But whose bare breasts have you seen?”



“Well yours while we were on the raft.”



“Oh,” Grace said. She had all but forgotten that. “Who else?”



“I saw Mabel’s breast once when she came out of the bathroom naked.”



Mabel was their large middle aged housekeeper in San Francisco. Grace laughed. “Of course mine are nicer then hers.”



“Can I see them? I mean I have already seen them on the raft, so it wouldn’t really be anything different.”



Grace opened her mouth to admonish him but then he said, “Your breasts are probably the only ones I will ever see.”



That got her. In an instant she felt a pain in her heart. He was right and they both knew it. Grace felt a rush of unwanted excitement go through her loins. This is crazy her mind screamed. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do. With her heart pounding and her head spinning she slowly lowered her arm.



Suddenly her son was staring at her naked breasts just a few feet in front of him. She could feel juice dripping from her pussy. Then, incredibly, she dropped the hand covering her vagina.



She could see the tent in his pants and knew he had an erection. She allowed him to stare for several long minutes and then trying to prevent her voice from cracking she said, “That should be enough for today.”



“Ah, come on Mom, that’s not fair. You gave me an erection and now you want to cut me off.”



“You got that erection all on your own, young man.” Suddenly she had more naughty and un-motherly like thoughts. Looking at his pouting face she said, “All right show me what you have learned.”



“Huh?” he said.



“What I showed you how to do the other day. I know you have been practicing it.”



Thomas’s face burned hot. Sheepishly he unbuttoned his pants and fished inside for his penis. Because it was hard it was difficult pulling it out of the opening. Suddenly it sprang out, throbbing and dripping juice.



Grace felt her pussy quiver and thought she was going to climax as she stared at her son’s hard cock. It was larger than she had through after the brief view the other day and it was bigger around.



Thomas said, “Can I have some of your … your cream?”



“Uh … what?” she asked, unable to hear him because of the roar in her ears.



“Your cream, you know … to help.”



“I’m sorry, I don’t have the cream here, but I have some soap, which is just as good, I think.” She held her wash cloth out to him and watched him take it and rub the soap onto his cock.



Then with his eyes moving slowly up and down his mother’s naked body Thomas began to stroke himself. He did it slowly like she had showed him.



He wanted to make it last today … he wanted her to see that he had learned the lesson; he wanted his mother to see that he could delay his climax and let her know that if he ever got the chance to make love to a woman he would be a good lover.



Grace was breathing heavily now and her pussy was throbbing. She couldn’t help touching her breast.



She watched Thomas work his hand slowly up and down his penis, pausing at the head to twist his fingers under the crown before sliding back down again. He continued to masturbate for a long time, his eyes never leaving his mother’s beautiful body.



“I’m getting close, can I finish?” he asked.



The fact that he asked permission to climax pleased Grace. She felt a rush of pride that touched her core and knew he would be a good lover someday … if he ever got the opportunity. “Not just yet. Stroke yourself some more.” Did she say that because she wanted to watch him longer or was it to teach him? She wasn’t sure. She could feel her pussy begin to pulse and she began to tremble. A few minutes later, with a tremor in her voice she said, “O … kay, you may climax.”



With a grateful moan Thomas thrust his hips forward and he froze. Suddenly his cock throbbed and a huge jet of juice shot from the head, landing in the water a few feet from Grace. As she watched the clear water bring the thick juice close to her she began to climax, without even touching her pussy. She shook and moaned and her eyes suddenly closed very tightly. Her head was spinning so much she thought she might collapse. Before that could happen she opened her eyes to see her son staring at her with wonder.



“Did … did you … uh … do it too?” he asked innocently.



Grace couldn’t lie to him, but she didn’t trust her voice so she only nodded. She looked down at the huge amount of cum that was still floating on the water and shivered again. She handed him her towel and said, “Now clean yourself up and get back to work with your father.”



As Grace left the lagoon she began to feel remorse again. What am I doing, she wondered? He is my son and I am showing him my naked body and teaching him how to masturbate. I have definitely gone mad. By the time she reached the hut she had reminded herself of the unusual situation they were in. Her son had no one but her to teach him … he had no friends, boy or girl, and there was a good chance he never would. What else could she do?



Chapter 5



Thomas and his mother sat close to one another and watched the water cascade from the rocks to the lagoon below. It was a warm and breezy day, like most days on the island, and the sun was shining through the water fall mist creating a gorgeous rainbow of colors. It was a glorious day, but for some reason Thomas seemed morose and sullen.



“What’s wrong, Thomas?” Grace asked.



He skipped a rock across the lagoon before saying, “I was just thinking.”



“About what?”



He sighed and said, “I was thinking how terrible it would be if I were here without you. I mean what if Dad and I were the only survivors and you weren’t here? Worse, if something happened to you, I don’t think I would want to live.”



“Please, Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Grace said and pulled Thomas’s face around to her, her hands on his cheeks. “I’m here and nothing is going to happen to me.”



Thomas had tears in his eyes. “I get depressed sometimes thinking about that and our situation here.”



“We all get depressed sometimes, Sweetheart, but we must fight it. We can never give up hope,” Grace said as tears started to stream from her eyes. Staring into her son’s eyes the rest of the world magically melted around her. There was no more sun, water fall, or breeze, just his incredibly sad eyes. A moment later her lips were pressed to his.



Her mouth opened and her tongue pushed into his mouth. A moan gurgled deep in her throat as she realized that she was kissing her son. Yet that didn’t stop her.



The kiss went on and on until Grace could barely breathe. Her pussy was starting to drip and her nipples were throbbing. Concerned that she might climax she pushed Thomas away. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She was about to say that the kiss was inappropriate when Thomas spoke.



“Wow,” Thomas said looking at his mother with wonder. It seemed that he was as surprised by the kiss as his mother was. Then he added, “Can we do that again sometime.” His mood had suddenly brightened.



“We’ll see,” Grace answered noncommittally. Then she shook her head and wondered if his comments had all been a put-on in order to get her to kiss him. She stared into his blue eyes and convinced herself that it wasn’t. “Okay, it’s time for you to do your reading.”



“After my lessons can I ask you some more questions … you know about the birds and the bees.”



Grace felt a chill run down her spine. “Yes, if I can answer them I will.”



Thomas read his chapters and then several poems before he closed the books and set them aside.



“So now, what did you want to ask me?” Grace said, feeling strangely excited.



“Well, you know I don’t know much about women and will probably never get a chance to, but I have some questions. You explained how making babies happens but not much about a woman. You know, like what are the parts of a woman? What kind of touches do they like, what are the sensitive parts, and what can a man do to really please his lover?”



The chill turned into a tremor as her heart started to race. “Wow, that is a lot for one sitting.”



“You can break it into parts if you want. Take all the time you need, I’m a captive audience,” he said with a smile.



She shook her head in mock resignation and paused to gather her thoughts. “Okay, let me see, first a woman likes to kiss a lot.”



“Like we did,” Thomas added. “I liked it too.”



“Yes, like we did. It is just part of her nature and tells her that she is loved. A woman needs to know that she is loved. She can never be kissed too much.”



“I love you, Mother,” Thomas said sincerely.



“I know, Sweetheart, and I love you too,” she answered, stroking his cheek.



He grabbed her hand from his face. “No. Not like a kid kissing his mother … like … well, it is more than that. I don’t know how to explain it.”



Grace didn’t respond for fear that she might say something she would regret. Instead she said, “Unfortunately your father and I do not kiss much anymore.”



“Why not, I loved our kiss?”



Grace’s face flushed as she remembered the feeling of his soft lips and her tongue searching his mouth. “Your father is older, in his late fifties, and men lose the desire for that kind of thing.”



“I will kiss you anytime you want,” Thomas said.



Grace sighed and said, “I’m sure you would, but back to the lesson. Beyond kissing, all women love to have their breasts played with, especially their nipples. They are very sensitive most of the time and sometimes almost too sensitive.” Grace noticed Thomas squirming around. She could see he had an erection all ready. “What’s wrong?” she asked, already knowing the answer.



“Uh … I’m just a little uncomfortable … you know … the jeans are tight.”



“I can see why,” she responded looking down at the tent in his trousers. “Why don’t you take them off?” Once the words were out Grace could not believe they came from her lips. Had she really told her son to take his pants off?



Thomas’ eyes opened wide. Really?” But before she could change her mind he jumped up and stripped off his jeans. His cock popped free and bounced excitedly in front of him. He saw his mother’s stare and a wave of excitement rushed through him. The lagoon grew very quiet as Thomas let his mother look. Her breathing seemed heavier and there was a strange look on her face.



Finally Grace said, “Sit down, please.”



“That’s better,” he said. Then he boldly reached for his penis and took hold of it. “Now you can continue.”



Grace couldn’t help but stare at is cock again. It was but inches from her and she could see it pulsing. It was not as long as his father’s was, but it seemed much harder. Suddenly her shorts felt very tight in the crotch.



“Go on, Mom.”



“Oh, yes, sorry,” she said as she shook her head and turned her eyes from his erection. “The breasts are not just for making love, however, they also serve a very practical purpose. Once a woman gets pregnant they become much larger and begin to produce milk.”



Thomas’ eyes opened wide and he said, “I can’t imagine your breast much bigger.”



Grace laughed. “True, but they certainly were bigger when I was pregnant with you.”



“Can I see your breasts again?” he asked. “Purely for educational purposes,” he added with a broad smile.

He has already seen them, so what does it matter, she thought? Grace was wearing a pair of shorts and a button up top that she had tied in a knot below her breasts. Without answering she sat up, untied her top and pulled it off.



Thomas gasped and quickly removed his hand from his cock, fearing he might climax.



Without giving it much thought Grace placed her hands on her breasts and began to play with her hard nipples as she continued. “So the breasts are very practical as well as a very important part in foreplay.”



“What is foreplay?”



“It is what men should do with women before they actually penetrate them. It takes women more time to warm up to sex then is does men so you need to spend time on the breasts. Then of course there is the neck, right here,” she said gently rubbing her fingers across the nape of her neck and around her shoulder blade. “Don’t forget the ears. That is a very sensitive place as well. Truthfully most of the woman’s body is sensitive to the lips and tongue.” Grace could feel her pussy dripping. She took a deep breath and began again. “Then of course there is the vagina.”



“I have never seen one of those … except for when you were standing in the water at the lagoon. But I couldn’t see much then,” he said.



“You are going to have to use your imagination there, young man.”



“That is hard to do when I have never seen it.”



Grace shook her head. “Anyway, the parts of the vagina are the out lips, the labia major and the inner lips, the labia minor. The outer lips are less sensitive then the inner. The inner lips swell with blood when stimulated.” Grace paused. She could see that Thomas had no idea what she was talking about. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she started to have naughty thoughts again. This is crazy, her mind screamed. Then before she had a chance to change her mind she stood up. “I shouldn’t do this, but I can see that you don’t understand.” Suddenly she pulled off her shorts.



Thomas gasped and stared in disbelief. His eyes were wide as he watched his mother drop her shorts onto the rock. He slowed his hand movement on his cock as he stared with mouth agape.



Grace sat back down and leaned back. Every part of her body was tingling now. Her heart was pounding and chest heaving. The excitement of the moment and the look in Thomas’ eyes pushed away any doubt she had about exposing herself to her son, at least for the moment. The world seemed to be spinning around her. The only thing she could hear above the ringing in her ears was the sound of her rapid heartbeat.



Finally Grace calmed herself enough to say, “You can look closer as I explain the parts if you want.”



Thomas scooted closer, never losing his grip on his cock.



There was a tremor in Grace’s voice as she continued, “This area is called the vagina and these are the outer lips,” she said as she ran her finger up and down the smooth skin on each side of her pussy. “Inside are the inner lips,” she said pulling her lips apart for him to see. “The inner lips are much more sensitive and they get wet and swollen when the woman is excited.”



“They look wet and swollen now,” Thomas said innocently.



“Uh … yes … yes they are,” Grace stuttered. Then she placed her index and middle finger around her clit and spread the hood of skin. Her swollen clit popped out. An involuntary moan escaped her lips.



Grace could feel the little nub throbbing. “This little thing at the top is called the clitoris and is the most sensitive spot. See, it looks kind of like the penis head and has the same kind of nerve endings. It should be stimulated by the penis or a finger when having intercourse. It throbs when stimulated.” Grace touched the nub and watched as it pulsed.



Thomas’ mouth was open as he stared in wonder. “Your vagina is gorgeous.”



“Thank you,” Grace whispered as she touched her clit several times and watched it throb.



“So when you masturbate you rub that little thing?” Thomas said. He was breathing heavily now and his cock was dripping juice across his knuckles.



“Yes, and sometimes I put a finger inside as well,” Grace said. Her breathing was increasing rapidly as she watched the fascination in her son’s face. She glanced down and saw him stroking his cock. Then she leaned back a little more and opened her lips wider so he could see deeper into her. She wanted to push her finger into her opening but knew she would climax the moment she did. Juice began to bubble from her opening.



“Is that … uh … pee?” Thomas asked pointing at the juice trickling out.



“No. It is precum, just like the fluid that comes out of the tip of your penis.”



“It is,” Thomas said as he looked at the juice on his fingers and then at his mother’s pussy.



“This little hole is where … where urine comes from,” she said as she touched the opening. It pulsed and opened and closed like a sea urchin grasping for plankton. “And the larger hole is where the penis goes. The walls inside swell and they caress the penis, helping the man to climax.”



Thomas stared in fascination. He stroked his cock faster. “Can you touch your clitoris for me again?” he asked.



“No, I shouldn’t,” Grace breathed, desperately wanting to do just that.



“Please. Let’s do it together.”



Grace was about to explode. She wanted to touch herself more than she ever had, but it was so wrong to be doing it while her son watched. Yet he was right, she was watching him stroke his cock. Losing the battle she moved her fingers to her clit again and rubbed it. A moan escaped her lips. Suddenly she slipped a finger into her wet opening. “This … this is … how the penis goes in,” she gasped as she moved her finger in and out several times. “The vagina makes the penis … penis … wet to make it easier,” she gasped. “Then I just rub the little clit with my … wet finger and … oh, my,” she gasped.



Thomas leaned even closer, his breath coming in great gasps now.



“It doesn’t … take much … to … to … stimulate the clitoris when it is swollen.” It was getting more and more difficult for her to speak. She threw her head back as pleasure rushed through her. She couldn’t believe how exciting it was masturbating in front of her son. Suddenly, before she could prevent it, she began to shake all over as a climax built. It was way too soon but she couldn’t hold back the tide. “Oh God, Thomas, I going to … ohhhhh, ahhhhhhiiiiieee,” she gasped as her body began to convulse. She vaguely heard Thomas moan before she was racked with an explosive climax. Then she felt Thomas’ juice splatter across her chest and her climax intensified.



Her body shook as pleasure rushed from her engorged clit to her brain and back again. Her toes curled and she gasped for breath. Fireworks exploded in her head. Her legs and thighs quivered uncontrollably and juice gushed from her throbbing hole. Once she was over the peak and sliding down the other side she fell onto her back.



A few minutes later she opened her eyes and moved up to her elbows. Thomas was lying on his back with his eyes closed and looked like he was asleep. Then she looked down and gasped; she had his cum all over her stomach, pussy, and the back of her hand.



She fell back with a satisfied sigh and lay there for a few minutes. As always she began to feel incredible shame at what she had allowed to happen. It was difficult for her to open her eyes again, but Thomas had to get back to do his chores. She shook him.



He sat up looking around like one does when awaken from a deep sleep. When he saw his mother leaning over him, he smiled and said, “Wow.”



Grace didn’t respond, still feeling the pangs of regret. “You have to get back to do your chores,” she said without emotion.



He nodded and began to get up. Then he saw the mess he had made all over his mother. His face turned red and he said, “Sorry.”



She looked down again and was shocked again by the sight. She was surprised at how much he had shot. It was far more than his father did. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. She had the sudden almost uncontrollable urge to lick the back of her hand but controlled the impulse. Then she stood up quickly and said, “I have to go into the water to wash off. I will see you back at the house.”



As she turned to go Thomas caught her hand. “Thanks, Mom,” he said and pulled her to him.



She didn’t resist when he pressed his lips to hers. She allowed him to kiss her for a long time, their tongues searching each other’s mouth. Then she felt his cock harden between her legs she pulled away. “Go home,” she said and gently pushed him away.



As she watched him leave she brought her hand to her mouth and began to lick the juice. With her other hand she found her still throbbing pussy. As she consumed her son’s juice she climaxed again.



Chapter 6



As the months passed Grace and Thomas continued their liaisons at the lagoon. For some time she wouldn’t allow the contact to go further than it had already. They would watch one another masturbate but she had a strict rule about touching, other than kissing. And they kissed a lot, which both she and Thomas enjoyed.



She had managed to keep Thomas satisfied with their mutual masturbation practices but could tell that he wanted more and it was getting harder and harder to refuse him. The kisses were making it more difficult to push his hands away when he tried to touch her breasts. It took all of her strength and motherly instincts to deny him.



Then one day at the lagoon she had unwillingly allowed him to go farther. Thomas was naked as he usually was when they were at the lagoon now. They had been playing in the water. She was wearing a blouse that was tied in the middle under her breasts and a pair of shorts that were not much more than panties. The top had become wet from their splashing in the lagoon. Thomas slipped behind her and turned her head toward him. He kissed her lips for a long time. After a few minutes he moved his lips to her neck. Unfortunately she had taught him how erotic that area was to the touch of lips. She trembled in excitement and her hand moved up to the back of his head, pulling his lips tighter.



As his lips trailed down her sensitive skin his hand moved up her stomach toward her breasts.



“Thomas, no,” she gasped, but she didn’t move to stop him.



His hand moved closer.



“No, no, no, Thomas,” she gasped but still did nothing to stop him.



His fingertips moved under the lower part of her blouse and she gasped. Her breathing increased. His fingers crawled higher across the underside of her breast.



Grace could feel Thomas’ dripping cock touch her leg and she knew that the crotch of her shorts would be wet soon, but not with water.



“Please, Thomas, I’m your mother,” she whispered, but held his head to her neck.



Then his hand worked under her top until he was at her breast. “Thomas,” she gasped again but had no strength to pull his hand away. He is my son, she screamed inside her head. Now he had my tit in his hand. This is crazy, this is madness. But she allowed him to squeeze and manipulate her breast until she felt her knees grow week. Suddenly she was startled out of her trance as a branch in the woods snapped. It was only a small animal, but it was enough for Grace to gather the strength to stop her son. She pulled his hand away. “That is enough for today,” she said, still gasping for breath. “We have to get back to the house so I can start dinner.”



Thomas knew when to quit. He smiled and took his mother’s hand as they walked back to the house.



*******************************************************************



Recently Grace had seen a change in Thomas. While he was sensitive to her, he was becoming more aggressive toward his father. It was obvious that he resented his father’s relationship with her.



It had also become more difficult for her to hide their growing intimate relationship from Walter. She had warned Thomas about overt physical closeness when his father was around, but because he was young it was difficult for him to control his impulses or grasp the seriousness of the situation. Several times when she had been preparing dinner he had come up behind her and hugged her, pressing his groin to her ass. Walter had noticed and while he didn’t say anything his eyes showed his displeasure.



Grace tried to ease the situation by being extra affectionate with Walter. Unfortunately it seemed that Walter was generally satisfied with sex once a month. She tried to force the issue, figuring if she got sex from him it would dampen her ardor when she was around her son. Unfortunately the result was an even greater problem.



One night, after they had all retired, Grace decided she would treat her husband special and perform oral sex. She knew he liked it but it had been years since she had sucked him off. When she thought Thomas was asleep she began kissing Walter. She started kissing down his chest and could tell immediately that he was willing. She had always like sucking him, but somehow it just never happened anymore. She threw her leg over his head and twisted around, trying to give him the hint that he could reciprocate if he wanted. Unfortunately he didn’t like eating her so he didn’t get, or more likely, ignored the message.



As she drew close to his suddenly throbbing erection she heard movement and realized that Thomas had awakened. He had apparently gotten up to get a drink of water. She was right in the middle of sucking his father and it was too late to stop. She knew if she did stop it would cause difficulty between her and Walter. She also knew that she had to make it good for him or he might think that she was only doing it to hide her relationship with their son.



There was no way to hide what she was doing so she looked over at her son as she grasped her husband’s throbbing cock and began to lick the head. She could see Thomas’s eyes staring at her but she wasn’t sure if it was anger or excitement she saw. Then she saw that he had an erection and she felt some relief. She went back to work on her husband, sucking and licking the head for a long time before taking it into her mouth. That brought a quiet moan from Walter. She stroked his cock as she sucked the head and he gasped. She knew he never lasted long when she was sucking him. True to form, within minutes he was moaning and bucking his hips. When he lifted his hips from the bed and froze she covered the head of his cock with her mouth. A second later her mouth was filled with his spurting seed. She drank it down as she had always done and then licked up what she had missed before pulling away. She looked up and saw that Thomas had gone back to bed.



The following day at the lagoon Thomas seemed reserved. Grace knew what was wrong. Jealously was becoming a bigger and bigger problem.



“Thomas, what’s the matter?”



“You know. I saw you with father last night.”



“I am his wife so I should be with him.”



“Did you have to … to … do what you did … you know, suck him?”



Grace sighed. She moved over and sat next to Thomas, putting her arm around his shoulders. “Thomas, I did that for us.”



“For us,” he almost screamed. “You put your mouth on his penis for us?”



“Yes. I am worried about the jealously between the two of you. It is palpable and on the verge of being destructive. I see the anger in your eyes as well as his. The two of you barely talk anymore. I wanted to do something special for him in hope of alleviating some of the tension. I suppose it didn’t work, at least for you.”



When Thomas did not respond Grace said, “Talk to me, Thomas.”



“There is nothing to say. There are two men and one woman on this island.”



Grace sucked in her breath. That comment had summed up the issue in a couple of words. She knew that she should say that he was her husband again, but she also knew that it might make him even angrier at his father.



She decided to try another tactic. “What can I do to make it up to you?”



Thomas did not answer and she knew she needed drastic measures. With her heart pounding and her hand trembling she reached over and grasped his thigh. “Thomas, take your clothes off,” she said as she stood up and began to take her own clothes off. When she was naked she sat back down.



It was obvious that Thomas was trying to continue his anger, but the sight of his mother’s naked body changed all that. He stood up and slowly undressed. When he was naked she told him to kneel. Thomas did not say a word, he simply got to his knees in front of his mother, staring at her.



Grace saw his cock pulsing and her pussy began to moisten. His cock was still not as long as his father’s but it was bigger around. She reached for her satchel and took out her cream, pouring some on her hand and rubbing them together.



For the first time she touched her son’s cock. The feeling of his hard, hot tool in her hand caused electric current to rush through her. Her breathing became heavy and her pussy began to quiver. She tightened her hand around him and began to stroke his cock. With each movement his cock seemed to grow larger. Her head was spinning like the first time she had climaxed with him. The enormity of what she was doing was almost more than she could fathom … she was masturbating her son … she had his hard cock in her hand and was stroking him.



Grace worked on his cock for a long time, slowing her strokes when he showed signs of impending climax. She teased and tortured him, exciting her as well as him. When she finally relented and allowed him to climax, it was a gusher. His juice squirted high into the air, several blasts actually hitting her in the face, more landing on her chest, and the rest hitting the rock below them.



It seemed to be a never ending well. Never had she seen so much cum from his father. Grace had to restrain herself from licking up the sticky substance.



When his cock was soft they both fell back on the rock, lying next to each other, looking up at the sky.



Grace’s body was still tingling and her mind was racing. She was unaware that Thomas had moved close behind her. But she knew it when she felt his hand reach over and rest on her bare stomach. When she turned her head toward him his lips were there.



She felt his tongue in her mouth and she touched it with her own, circling it and playing with it and then sucking it. There was still no strength in her arms when his hand began to move upward from her stomach. She froze when his knuckles reached the underside of her bare breast. Then a loud gasp escaped her lips as his hand covered her tit.



She grasped his wrist, but she could not bring herself to pull his hand away. Thomas took that as her acceptance and began to kneed and squeeze her soft flesh. His fingers found her large nipples and began to squeeze first one and then the other. All the time his mouth never left hers. It was as if he were afraid she would tell him to stop if he broke the kiss. He was probably correct.



Finally when Grace was squirming under her son’s breast manipulation he grew bolder. His hand left her breast and moved downward and then behind her. Grace moaned deep in her throat, as if she was trying to scream. She was unable or unwilling to stop him. Her legs spread as his fingers sought and found her soaked pussy.



With no ability to stop him or the resulting reaction of her body she allowed her son to possess her pussy with his fingers. He was gentle, searching and exploring like a child with a new toy. He had listened well to her instructions.



Finally Grace pulled her mouth from her son and spoke. “Higher,” she gasped. “Rub my clit. Oh God.”



Grace was sailing above the ground clouds. Her hips moved up and down against his exploring finger. “Harder,” she hissed. He moved his fingers faster, worrying the little nub until it was pulsing. His lips went to her neck and he began to gently kiss and bite her. Suddenly fireworks went off in her head. Her body froze and a long and low moan escaped her. The pleasure seemed to go on and on until she thought she was losing consciousness. She fought it. But then, when the first climax ended, Thomas’s fingers slipped into her body again. He pushed in deeply until he was at his knuckles. Then he moved them around as if searching. When Grace moaned he knew he had found the right spot. He rubbed the sack just behind her clit. The explosion shook her body and sent her into convulsions. Her pussy began to squirt juice all over her thighs, his hand, and the stone below. It was gushing out of her. Nothing mattered to Grace anymore, nothing but her son’s mouth and searching fingers.

Chapter 7



As always, after the incident Grace felt incredibly guilty. She had settled one problem, but created another even bigger one. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Thomas would try to go further. There was no way to get away from him, even if she wanted to. In truth, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she had enjoyed their encounters.



They took another step one evening as Walter lay napping after a hard day of fishing and hunting. Thomas had come up behind his mother and grasped her breasts. She was wearing only a shirt and a pair of panties. Instead of pushing him away she glanced over to make sure Walter was still asleep and then she leaned back into him. He took that as an invitation and turned her head and began kissing her neck.



Before Grace realized what was happening she had turned in his arms and they were pressed tightly together kissing.



She could feel Thomas’s hard cock pressing to her stomach. She pulled away and looked over at his father who was snoring. With a finger to her lips she grabbed his hand and took him outside and down the ladder until they were on the ground level of the tree house. Walter was but ten feet above them inside. Again Grace put her finger to her lips for silence. Then she slowly dropped to her knees intending to masturbate him. She slowly unbuttoned his pants and then fished inside for his hard cock.



Thomas stared down at his mother waiting for her to use her sweet hand on him.



Grace’s trembled when she realized the position she was in; kneeling in front of her son with his cock just inches from her face. A bubble of his clear juice began to drip from the slit in head. She could smell his musk and see his ball sack squirming. She had only intended to jerk him off but like a magnet she was drawn closer and closer to his cock. With a deep moan she took it into her mouth.



“Moooooottttthhhhhher,” he whispered in a long hiss.



Grace paused and reluctantly pulled his cock from her mouth. It was too late to stop now. She had already taken her son’s cock into her mouth. She listened for a moment and then said, “Shhhh, you have to be quiet.”



Thomas nodded dumbly and watched his mother begin to suck his cock again. He rested his hands on her head and closed his eyes. He had never felt anything so wonderful. It has to be a dream his mind screamed. But when he opened his eyes again, there she was, his own mother on her knees, her pretty blue eyes looking up at him, and she was sucking his cock. He almost climaxed right then.



Grace knew the urgency to get him off, but she also wanted him to enjoy it. She took her time, licking and sucking his hard shaft until he was mad with desire. She looked up at him and whispered, “Cum, climax in your mother’s mouth. I want it. I want to taste you. I want to swallow your juice.” She heard the words but couldn’t believe they had come from her mouth.



The words send Thomas over the edge. He bit his lip and grunted quietly as his cock head grew huge inside her mouth. Then the floodgates opened. He heard his mother gag for a moment, but he was too far gone to stop. He held her head to his pulsing and spitting cock as his balls emptied into her rabidly sucking mouth.



For a moment Grace thought she was going to choke, but she swallowed quickly and just in time for another blast. It came and came and came. She couldn’t believe the quantity or how much she loved the taste of her son’s juice. Without touching herself she began to climax as well. If his cock had not been deep in her mouth she would have collapsed. Everything around her faded and all she could think of was the pleasure running through her, the sweet taste of her son’s seed, and the incredible feeling of it sliding down her throat.



When he was drained she sat back and looked up at Thomas. His eyes were closed but there was a smile on his face. She wiped a gob of cum from her lip and then licked it off. Then she rose to her feet. She was surprised when Thomas pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. A moan escaped her lips as his tongue searched her mouth. Breathlessly she pulled away and looked into her son’s loving eyes.



“Thank you, Mother,” he said and smiled.



She kissed him again before they went back into the house to find Walter sitting up on the bed. For a moment they thought he had heard them but then he rubbed his eyes and said, “Where have you two been?”



“We just took a walk so we wouldn’t disturb your nap,” she lied.



Thomas had to turn away in fear that he would break out laughing.



The following evening Thomas and Grace were sitting on a swing that Walter had built on the porch. Walter was upstairs, already in bed asleep. There was a small candle on inside the hut but otherwise it was dark. Grace had put on a shirt and panties after her evening bath.



The jungle was alive with the sounds of the night and the waves of the ocean beat a steady tempo against the shore just a couple hundred feet away. Grace put her head on her son’s shoulder and grasped his hand. Incredible as it seemed she was content at that moment. The tension between father and son had not gotten better, but it had not become worse either. It almost seemed as if Walter had come to realize that he had to share his wife with his son if they were going to survive as a family. But she didn’t think he knew how much he was actually sharing.



Thomas turned his mother’s face to him and kissed her. At the same time he reached for her shirt, quickly unbuttoning the buttons until both breasts were free.



“Thomas,” she gasped, “Your father could wake up at any time.”



“Naw, he sleeps like a log. Kiss me,” he said.



Throwing caution to the sea breezes she fell into his arms and kissed him. As his hand cupped her breasts hers went to tent in his jeans. Mother and son sat on the porch kissing like teenaged lovers on their first date.



Grace pulled away and slowly opened his pants and then pulled out his erection. She looked down at the moonlit shaft she had in her hand and almost drooled.



Then she bent over and took him into her mouth. As her husband and his father slept a few feet above them she sucked her son again.



“Mom,” Thomas said as he pulled her away from his cock.



“What?” she asked, suddenly worried that Walter had awakened.



“I want to do it to you this time.”



“Do what?”



“Use my mouth on you.”



Grace thought she had heard him incorrectly. “What?” she said.



“I want to suck you like you did for me. Then you can return the favor.”



“Oh my God,” she gasped. “I’ve never … I mean your father never has.



“He never did it to you?”



“No. He started to once, but then stopped.”



“Selfish bastard,” Thomas hissed. “So you have never had it done?”



“No.”



“But people do it, right?”



“Yes, according to my romance novels, all the time.”



“Then I want to do it too.”



“Oh God, Thomas, this is so wrong. I am your mother,” she said as if pleading with him.



“You have sucked me already and now it is my turn.”



With her heart pounding in her chest she said, “But where? We need to go somewhere.”



“No, here. Just lean back and I will get on my knees.”



“Thomas, that is crazy. Your father is right upstairs.”



“You sucked me here just last night, so I want to do it to you here.” Before she could protest Thomas slipped to his knees. He pulled her panties off quickly and then lifted her legs to his shoulders. He grasped her ass cheeks with his hands and pulled her closer. Now he could see her pussy highlighted by the moonlight and thought he would never live to see anything more beautiful. He could smell the scent of coconut oil, soap, and wild flowers mixed with the earthy smell of her special scent. It was intoxicating.



Grace put her hands on her son’s shoulders as if to push him away. “Please, Thomas, let’s wait, we can do it another time,” she begged. Yet deep inside she would have died if he had listened to her. Even she knew that her words rang hollow.



“Tell me what you like. I want to pleasure you with my tongue and mouth. Tell me how you like it.”



“Oh God, Thomas, you don’t have to do this.”



“I want to. Please.”



Grace trembled and sighed. She said, “Use your tongue on the outer lips and do it slowly. Tease me before you move on to the inner lips. Suck them into your mouth gently.”



With a moan Thomas bent his head and placed his mouth gently on her beautiful flower.



Grace almost climaxed. Her swirling brain could not comprehend what was happening … it only knew the pleasure of her son’s mouth.



When Thomas’ tongue found her wet flesh he heard her gasp and her hips arched. He covered the outer lips with his wide opened mouth and licked. A moan told him he was doing it right. After a few minutes he moved on to her wet and smooth inner lips. Another gasp of pleasure slipped from her lips. He licked and sucked the swollen lips into his mouth, teasing the flesh with gentle bites. Then he slid his tongue down, found her juicy opening and plunged inside. Grace suddenly bucked like a mare with a bur under the saddle. She pushed her fist into her mouth to cut off a scream of pleasure. She had never felt anything so good in all her life. His moving tongue was alive in her pussy. A second later she was climaxing. Juice squirted from her convulsing hole and into Thomas’s mouth. He drank it down without pausing. Before she had recovered from her first climax, with her pussy still in spasm, Thomas found her clit with his tongue. The touch of his tongue was like a bolt of lightning to Grace.



“Yes, yes, yes, lick my clit. Gently, please lick me,” she gasped.



Her legs clamped around her son’s head and her hips bucked into his sucking mouth as everything around her faded into a whirlpool of illicit pleasure. She sank deeper and deeper as the waves of pleasure continued their wonderful assault on her body. That was the last thing she remembered.



When Grace awakened she was cradled in her son’s arms. She opened her eyes and looked up at his smiling face. “That was … that was … so, so incredible. I have never felt anything like that. Thank you,” she whispered as pulled his head down for a passionate but sweet kiss.



It took her a few minutes to regain her strength. When she did she slipped to her knees in front of Thomas and grasped his cock. As she took him into her mouth she glanced up and froze. Above his head she could see movement between the cracks of the vine and wood floor. She saw that Walter was standing outside looking down at them. For a moment she thought about getting up, but then realized that it was far too late. She wondered if he had seen everything that had happened. She knew that if he were going to stop them he would have rushed down the moment he saw what was going on. No, he is not going to do anything, she realized with great relief.



Then her mind was no longer on her husband. Her son’s cock was in her mouth and she was going to please like he had done her. She would deal with the consequences later. With renewed enthusiasm she began to make love to her son’s cock. She sucked the head and then licked it. Her tongue found the slit and she worried it with the tip. Then she used her tongue to swirl around under the crown, a place she knew from Walter that men liked. She worked on her son’s cock for a long time, thinking of how proud she was of his ability to hold off his climax. She knew he must be incredibly excited by the amount of juice pouring from his opening. Yet he held out until she began to pump his shaft and suck the head.



“Can I cum in your mouth, Mother?” he asked politely.



Grace moaned her approval deep in her throat. She felt her son’s hands on her head and his fingers in her hair. A moment later his seed was blasting into her waiting mouth. She knew it was going to be a lot, but she was ready for it this time. Her mouth filled and she swallowed, and then it filled again, and again, and once again. Each time she swallowed she felt her own pussy spasm and a little climax ripped through her.



When she had sucked her son dry and cleaned up around his softened clock she stood up. She bent over and kissed him on the lips. “Mmmm, I can taste my pussy on your lips.”



“And I can taste my sperm in your mouth,” he said with a laugh.



“Good night, Sweetheart,” she whispered and then picked up her panties and climbed the ladder to the hut.



Thomas watched his mother leave, staring at her sexy bare ass as she slowly ascended the ladder. He put his feet up and leaned back on the swing reliving the incredible feeling of his mother’s mouth on his cock.



Grace slipped into bed next to her husband and went to sleep almost immediately.



She was having a wonderful dream when she was suddenly startled awake. It wasn’t a dream. Walter had apparently awakened and was kissing her breasts and playing with her pussy. With a sigh of pleasure she gave herself up to his experienced hands. Soon, however, she needed more. She wanted his cock. She pulled him over her and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Fuck me, fuck your naughty wife,” she whispered.



Walter pounded into his wife with a vengeance. It had been a while since they had made love like this and he was more than ready after what he had witnessed.



Grace couldn’t believe how good it felt to have a cock in her. It seemed like Walter was making a special effort to please her. Often he got on her and pounded her for a few seconds before he shot his load. Tonight he was being a masterful lover. He pounded into her until she had climaxed multiple times.



Finally Grace moaned, “Cum in me. Shoot your hot cum into my pussy.”



He did, filling her to overflow before falling onto the bed in exhaustion. Grace had a broad smile on her face as she fell back to sleep.



Part II: Adam and Eve, Kane and Able and the ultimate Taboo



Chapter 1



It had taken a long time but it seemed that Thomas and Walter had reached an unspoken agreement that each would overlook their own possessive jealously for the good of the family. Yet, they did not act like father and son, for that was no longer possible. If anything they acted as equals in all things with the exception of their relationship with Grace. Obviously Walter could have intercourse with her, while Thomas could not. So far she had laid down the law to Thomas there. He was her son and since she had no way to protect herself from pregnancy, intercourse was out. Yet that didn’t stop Thomas from trying.



Their day at the lagoon was destined to be different from the others. Grace had taken a few new books for Thomas to read plus a book she could use to teach him geography. Another one happened to be the Bible. As soon as they arrived, Thomas laid the books down and took his mother into his arms.



“Thomas, we need to get on with your geography lesson today,” Grace said, only half serious.



“We have all day to do that. Dad is off to the other side of the island so we don’t have to worry about him,” he said.



Grace moaned and allowed him to unbutton her shirt and then slip it off her shoulders. He quickly dispensed with her pants before she had time to protest and then he took off his jeans. A moment later he had pushed her onto her back on the rock and spread her legs. Grace had a pretty good idea what he wanted and she wasn’t going to object.



When Thomas paused and didn’t touch her pussy she looked down at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.



“Nothing, I just wanted to look at your pussy. I haven’t seen it in the light for a while.”



Grace loved that he wanted to look at her but it was nonetheless embarrassing; after all, she had always been a modest person and more importantly, it was her son staring at her private parts. Yet, she was also incredibly excited.



“Beautiful,” he said. “Your pussy is the prettiest one in the world.”



“Thank you,” she whispered.



“It’s perfect. I love that you only have a little bit of hair around the lips, that way I can see the sun glistening off your juices.” With that he bent his head and began to lick her.



On the rocks above, unbeknownst to them, Walter stood watching. He was a good several hundred yards away, but he could see plainly what they were doing. He knew that they were intimate, but he wondered just how far it had gone. If they were having intercourse then she could get pregnant and that worried him. The island was no place to have and raise a baby. He watched as his son used his mouth on his mother, and in spite of his deep seated belief that it was wrong, he nonetheless had an erection.



Grace’s moans of pleasure told Thomas that he was doing it right. He took his time, kissing and licking every square inch of her pussy. By the time he made it to her clit she was fit to be tied.



“Lick my clit, please,” she begged.



“Sorry, you have to wait like you tell me,” he said and proceeded to kiss down her thighs, leaving a trail of saliva behind. Then he moved up the other side.



“Please, please,” Grace moaned.



Thomas chuckled under his breath and continued to tease her, now working on her outer lips with his tongue and teeth. He took gentle bites all along the swollen flesh before using his tongue to slide up and down the crease between her thigh and pubic mound. He had learned the lessons she had taught him well. A woman needs more time than a man to get ready, she had told him … so he was taking his time. He knew that he was being just a bit mean, but he loved to hear her moans of pleasure.



“Thomas, you are driving me mad,” Grace gasped.



“Okay,” he mumbled and pushed her legs further apart. Then he placed his tongue on her clit and began to flick it.



“Oh, Thomas,” she hissed.



First he flicked it gently with his tongue and received another loud moan in response. Then he sucked it into his mouth. That brought a scream from her. Her hips lifted from the stone as her hands grabbed his head.



“Suck me, eat me,” she screamed loudly. Since she thought Walter was on the other side of the island there was no fear that he would hear her. “Ohhhh, God, Thomas I’m going to climax already.” With her fingers tangled in his hair she bucked and thrashed, causing Thomas to work hard to keep his mouth on her convulsing pussy. He sucked and swallowed her juices and then worked on the clit again. He felt his mother tense again and knew she was climaxing a second time. He was afraid she was going to pull his hair out by the roots or smother him, or both. When she finally let go he pulled back almost breathless. His face was soaked with her copious juices.



A few minutes later, when Grace had caught her breath, she stood on unsteady legs and almost fell into her son’s arms. They kissed passionately. Eventually Grace pushed him away and had him stand in front of her as she knelt between his at his feet. Something on the rocks suddenly caught her attention. She glanced up and realized that Walter was hiding behind the bushes. Incredibly, a strange thrill went thought her. If he wants to watch, then I’ll put on a show, she thought. With her gorgeous eyes looking up at Thomas she took his cock into her mouth. She heard him moan as she sucked and licked the swollen head. She took her time drawing it out, making him mad with the desire to climax … it was payback time for Thomas.



“Mom, please,” he begged.



She paused for a moment and said, “Now where have I heard that before.” Then she giggled.



It was fifteen minutes later when she finally began to stroke his cock rapidly. She watched his eyes glaze over and then he tensed and she knew that he was about to climax. His cock head expanded in her mouth and a moment later he screamed and bucked his hips. Her mouth quickly filled with his thick juice and she swallowed over and over. There was so much that some of the precious liquid slipped from the corner of her mouth.



She caught as much as she could in the palm of her hand, not wanting to waste a drop. When she glanced up she could still see Walter on the rocks. In spite of that she brought her hand to her mouth and sucked up the juices that had deposited there. When her hand was clean she looked up again and saw that Walter was gone.

“Wow,” Thomas said as he sat down next to his mother.



“Okay, I think it is time for you to read to me,” Grace said scooting over next to him.



He groaned but picked up a book and began to read.



Later, as they were leaving Thomas saw a book in his mother’s stack. It was the Holy Bible. “Can I read this, Mother?”



“Sure, but it might be a difficult read since their language was different than what we know today.”



“It should make me a better reader.”



When they arrived back at the hut Walter was already there. He was storing fruit he had gathered from his trip to the other side of the island. Thomas took the Bible and went to the beach to read. When he was out the door, Walter came over to his wife and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist as his mouth came to hers. Then he pulled away and said, “Suck my cock.”



Grace held in a gasp at his words. Then she smiled and slid to her knees. She pulled her husband’s cock from his shorts and put it in her mouth. She liked sucking cock and now that she had two of them she would never have to want for one. As she began to suck she could tell that Walter was very worked up. His pre-cum juice was already pouring into her mouth. She could only guess that what he had witnessed from the rocks had turned him on.



She was about to ask him if he wanted to sit down when he suddenly, without warning, started to climax. His hot juice blasted into her open mouth and on her face. She tried unsuccessfully to cover the squirting head but his cum splattered across her cheek and dripped from her chin.



She would have laughed but she wanted to swallow what was left. For the second time in just a few hours she was swallowing cum.



“Wow, what brought that on?” she asked as she scooped the juice from her cheek and chin and sucked it off her fingers. Of course she already knew.



Walter just shrugged and walked away. He couldn’t admit, even to himself, what had caused his excitement. He wished he had never seen it. He had taken a different route home and had accidentally come upon them at the lagoon. While he knew he should not watch them he found he could not pull himself away. He could not see them well when they were on the porch the other night. Emotionally he felt anger, jealously, and sadness, but apparently excitement as well. He was angry at Grace, but he was also angry at himself. He knew that as the father and husband he should have stopped them. But he had done nothing and wrestled to find a reason why. Was it because it would have caused a terrible scene? Or did he enjoy it. That was just crazy, he thought. Maybe they had all gone mad.



Later that day Thomas came back from his trip to the beach carrying the bible. “Mother, do you have a few minutes. I have some questions about some of the things I read in the Bible.”



“Sure, let me finish dinner and then we can go off and talk.”



After dinner the two of them went to the lagoon and sat on the rock. Thomas kissed his mother tenderly but then he pulled away. “Mother, I read about Adam and Eve in the Bible.”



“It is a nice story,” she said.



“Is it true?”



“Well many people believe it is. You either believe that or you believe that we came from the apes.”



“The apes?”



“Yes, do you remember when we discussed the Theory of Evolution?”



“Yes, oh, now I remember. But if that is true, how come there are still apes everywhere in the world? And why don’t they look like us?”



“Well that is the issue. The big problem with the theory has always been the missing link. Why haven’t the apes disappeared as man evolved? What happened to the ape-like primate that should have existed between cave man and the apes? It is still debated across the world.”



“So the truth could be that Adam and Eve existed, right?”



“Yes. Some people believe that.”



“Is there evidence of that?”



“Well, some say there is, but many do not believe what they cannot see. Believing something that you cannot see or touch is what faith is all about. But what is your point?”



“I am getting to that. The Bible says Adam and Eve were tossed out of the Garden of Eden because of Eve eating the forbidden fruit. Then Eve had Cain and Able. But Cain killed Able. I do not quite understand why, but maybe he was jealous. Anyway, Eve had many children. If everyone is a decedent of Adam and Eve, then Cain had to either marry a sister or … or his mother. I think it had to be his mother.”



Suddenly Grace knew the point he was trying to make and it shocked her to the core.



“So you and Dad are kind of like Adam and Eve and I am Cain,” Thomas said and paused for several long moments. Then he said, “Who do I marry mother?”



Grace felt her face flush hot. “I … I don’t … that is just a story, Thomas.”



“Yes, but you said it could be true.”



“I said some people believe it is true.”



“Do you believe it is true?”



“I don’t know, maybe. But I think you are oversimplifying it. Theologians have studied and written about this for thousands of years. There are various interpretations of the story. Some of those interpreters could and probably did change the story to fit the times.”



“Yes, but many of the basic facts are apparent. If the story of Adam and Eve is true then we all came from an incestuous relationship, either mother and son, father and daughter, or sister and brother. But even if the alternate ‘Theory of Evolution’ is true then the answer is the same, I think. I mean in the beginning there were very few people/apes, maybe only two. Therefore, incest had to be common in order for the species to grow and the earth to be populated.”



Grace nodded, fearing that her voice would fail her.



“There are only three of us here, like Adam, Eve, and Cane. If we are here forever, and Dad cannot give you any more babies what is going to happen to us?”



“We will be rescued,” she said unconvincingly.



“But if we are not, then we will die here alone. We will have no family, and then once you and father are gone, I will be alone.”



Grace did not want to admit it but she could see the logic of his point. “But we are going to be rescued,” she said again weakly.



“Mother, please, we have been here for over two years and not once have we seen a ship, not one. We are far out of the shipping lanes. The only reason we crashed here is because we were blown so far off course by the storm. No one is coming for us and we are going to die here … alone.”



Grace didn’t respond.



“I am a young man, but I have never had a high school graduation, gone to a prom or attended teenaged parties, and, of course, I will never go to college. I will never have anyone to love, I will never get married and have a wife, and therefore I will never have children.” Tears began to stream down his cheeks.



Grace’s eyes filled with tears as well. She didn’t want to admit it but in her heart she knew he was right. Her heart was broken by the truth of his words. What is going to happen to him, to us, she wondered?



“I think the answer is right in front of us,” he said.



She knew what he was suggesting but it was impossible to accept. Would that be worse than dying alone? She wasn’t sure. One thing that she did know was that Thomas’s idea would start the contest between him and his father all over again and that could lead to losing one or both of them. It was too horrible to even comprehend. Tears continued to stream from her eyes.



“I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Thomas said as he took her into his arms and pulled her to his chest. He continued. “Mother we have to accept the inevitable if we are to survive. In the last several months I have begun to wrestle with our dire situation quite a bit. I know I am still very young, but because of our situation I have had a lot of time to think. I have come to this conclusion; we need to have children. I believe that is our only hope for survival. And since father cannot make you pregnant, I am the only one left.”



Grace began to sob. Incredibly she realized that Thomas had an erection. She looked up at her son. “We can’t … have … have children, it is wrong,” she whispered.



“There are lots of stories about incest in the Bible.”



Grace didn’t answer but shivered in her son’s arms.



“There is one other choice. I know no one wants to think about it, but either father or I could leave. If it is me, then you and father will die alone. If it is him, then we can have many children and start an entirely new family. A big family like Adam and Eve had. While in the beginning the children will have to marry their siblings, eventually it will work itself out. Don’t you see the logic in it?”



Grace sobbed more. Through her tears she said, “You or your father leaving is not an option. Please don’t even speak of that.”



“I do not like the option either, but if Dad or you will not agree to us making babies then we don’t have a choice. We have to try something, and if that means Dad or I take a raft and try to find the shipping lanes, then that is what we have to do or we all die here. I am only asking you to think about it.”



Grace nodded her agreement. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her shirt.



Thomas smiled. “In the mean time I want to make you feel good.” Thomas stepped back and slipped off his jeans, leaving him standing naked with his throbbing erection. Then he unbuttoned his mother’s shirt, took it off, and then pulled her shorts off. She stood motionless, unable to stop him. He laid her clothes on the ground and pushed her down until she was on her back. Then he lay down with his feet at her head.



“What are you doing?” she asked.



“I thought it would be nice if we used our mouths on each other at the same time.” With a moan from his mother, Thomas spread her legs and moved his head between her thighs. As he began to lick her he felt her hands reach for him. A moment later they were locked together, her mouth filled with his cock and his tongue in her pussy. Thomas moaned at the taste of his mother’s sweet pussy and the feeling of her warm and wet mouth sucking his cock. He licked in time with her sucking of him. Then he felt his entire shaft in the warm wetness of her mouth. He heard her gag for a moment and then her nose was on his balls.



He couldn’t believe it … his mother had his entire cock in her mouth. He wondered for a moment where it all went but then he felt her throat muscles caressing his shaft … milking it.



Her saliva coated his balls and he could feel them drawing up in preparation for a climax. He knew he had to concentrate on something else or he would go off immediately. He began to focus on her warm and juicy pussy. He placed his mouth on her open hole and sucked, bringing gobs of her thick juices into his mouth. He swallowed and sucked again and received another mouth full. They pleasured each other that way until Grace had achieved multiple climaxes and Thomas had filled her mouth twice with his semen.



Then they walked silently, hand in hand, back to the hut. Before they parted, Thomas simply said, “Please think about it, Mother.”



Chapter 2



Grace went to look for Walter and saw him sitting on the rocks near the ships wreckage. She walked over and paused behind him. Silently she took off her clothes and then sat on his lap. She saw a small smile crease his lips when he realized that she was naked, but he didn’t say anything. They were silent for a long time, staring out at the sea.



Finally Walter spoke. “The last of the ship is being washed out to sea with every tide,” he said idly as if he was talking to himself.



“We have gotten almost everything of any value from it, right?” Grace asked.



“Yes. We have been like vultures picking over the carcass,” he said with a small but sad smile. Then he was silent.



“You know we are never going to be rescued,” Grace said, breaking the silence, still staring out at the vast open ocean.



“Yes,” Walter said.



“What is to happen to us?”



“I don’t know.”



They fell silent again. Then Grace took a deep breath and said, “I know you have seen me with Thomas.” When he didn’t answer she continued. “We have not had intercourse, yet. But you know he wants it. He wants me to have his babies.” Grace was surprised when Walter only grunted. “That doesn’t surprise you then?”



Finally Walter spoke. “It has been building for a long time. I understand that he is a young man with normal desires.”



Grace was relieved that her husband did not seem angry or at least he was hiding it well. “He thinks we will perish and die alone if we do not have children.”



“I could build a raft and we could try to find the shipping lanes,” Walter said.



“But we know nothing about sailing. We would certainly perish.”



“We might. An alternative would be for me to go alone and if I make it to help I will come back for you and Thomas.”



“No!” Grace said almost with a shrill in her voice. “We would go together or no one will go.”



“It is too dangerous for all of us.”



“No more than you going alone,” she said.



“Not really true. If I went I wouldn’t have to take much in the way of supplies and the raft could be relatively small.”



“No, it’s still crazy.”



“But it would solve your problem if I left,” Walter said a bit of a choke in his voice.



Grace saw that he had tears in his eyes. She hugged him and whispered, “No, no, no. Loosing you does not solve my problem. I love you.”



“Do you really love me, Grace?” he asked and then before she could answer said, “I know our marriage was arranged and I know you did it for the good of our families. I am forever grateful for that.”



“That is true and I have thought about all the things I missed, including the deep love that I read about. But that has all changed since we have been here. I see things differently now. I do love you.”



“Grace, I know you are a highly sexual woman and I know I have not always been a loving husband, in more ways than one. I am a lot older than you and that means I do not have the same energy level … sexually as well as physically. It also means that I will die before you and then you and Thomas will be alone. Those are facts. I believe you love me but you love, and lust, for your son just as much,” he stated.



Grace knew that everything he said was true. They both knew the truth. “Yes, it is true. I have denied it, fought it, cursed it, but our new reality keeps hitting me over the head. I have wondered why it happened to us. I wish I could just make it all go away.”



“It won’t.”



“I know. I also know that Thomas is my son and I know I shouldn’t have these feelings for him but I can’t help it. I think this island is making us all mad. I can’t believe we are even having this conversation.”



“I used to think it was madness, but now I am not so sure. Could it be that our situation is just making us face the brutal reality of life on earth. We have lived in what we call civilized society all our lives, but now we are savages. Our basic instincts have risen to the surface. It is like the beast has been released and I don’t believe it can ever be put back in the cage … unless we get off this island quickly.”



Grace nodded her agreement. “What do we do? We don’t have any good choices,” she said.



“I do love you Grace. I love you enough to let you go. I can move to the other side of the island and you and Thomas can stay here.”



“No, that is no better than going out alone on the raft.”



“I would be alive, just not here with you.”



“Yes, but we destroy the family.”



“Then I ask you the question, what do we do?’”



Grace held his hand tightly and stared out at the horizon. Then she heard her voice saying, “Can you bring yourself to share me?” She wondered, did I just say that?



Walter sighed, showing that he had thought about it already. “I am not sure. I have gone through all of the emotions of anger, sadness, jealously, and even rage. I suppose all that is left is acceptance, but it is maybe the hardest emotion to deal with. If all the other options are out, then that is the only one left.”



“So, is that your answer … are you saying yes?” she asked to be sure she was hearing him correctly.



“Yes, it is the only choice left,” he whispered.



Grace felt her heart swell. Now she was crying and hugging Walter. “Make love to me,” she whispered.



Walter started to get up.



“No, here.”



“On the rocks?” he said with surprise.



“Yes right here where the wind, ocean, sky, and sun can see us.” She kissed her husband passionately. “I want you to do something special with me.”



“What?” he asked, his sullen mood suddenly brightening.



“I can’t tell you, but I will show you.”



“Wait,” he said, “I want to do something first. Walter got up and took his shorts off, and then he placed Grace’s clothes on the rock for her to lie on. “Lay down here.”



Grace looked at her husband curiously, but she went to her back on the clothes. Then she watched as he got to his knees between her legs. When he lifted her legs and bent his head Grace knew what he was going to do. “Walter, you don’t have to do that.”



“I want to. I’ve wanted to for a long time, but never knew how you would feel about it. Then I saw you and Thomas at the tree house and the lagoon and … well I want to do it.”



“Oh God,” Grace whispered as she watched her husband bend his head and begin to kiss her thighs. “Baby, Sweetheart,” Grace cried as she felt him begin to move toward her already wet pussy. Then she screamed when his mouth reached her pussy. Her cries swirled upward and were lost in the cries of the seagulls floating on the westward winds.



“Oh God, oh eat me, eat your wife.”



Walter did. He sucked and licked her until she had climaxed more times then she could count. She was a quivering mass of jelly when he finally pulled his mouth from her soaked pussy.



When Grace could sit up she smiled at Walter. He had a sheepish grin on his face.



“Did you enjoy that?” he asked factitiously.



“You know I did. Did you?”



“Yes, very much.”



Now it’s my turn to please you. Sit down.”



Looking curiously at his wife he sat where she had been. He watched as she straddled his waist and then squatted. She reached over and dipped her fingers into her coconut cream that she had conveniently brought with her. She then smeared a handful onto Walter’s cock. She reached between her legs and added more cream.



“We have to take this slow,” she said.



“Take what slow?” he asked. He found out a second later when Grace placed the head of his cock on her tiny rose. Walter’s eyes opened wide when he realized that she was going to take his cock into her ass. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern.



“Shhhhh,” she whispered. A look of concentration crossed her face. Her eyes closed and she pressed down. “Ahhhhh,” she gasped.



Walter gasped as well as the head of his cock slowly slipped into her ass. It felt like he had a piece of rawhide was wrapped around his penis crown.



“Wait, wait, wait,” Grace gasped. Walter had not moved. It took a moment or two before she began to push again. A long exhale of breath followed as inch by inch his cock, aided by the coconut cream, slipped into her ass.



“Oh God, Grace, I’ve never felt anything like this,” Walter gasped.



Grace couldn’t answer; she was still concentrating, willing her canal to open to ease his cock inside. She had about half of it in her, but was determined to take it all. With a deep breath she pushed harder. “Ohhhhhh, Goddddd,” she cried as the last several inches went inside her tight canal. She had it all; she had his entire cock in her ass. “W … ait … uh … oh God, … ohhhh yes,” she gasped as she slowly became accustomed to his cock stretching her asshole.



Walter was delirious. His cock was being squeezed like it was in a vise and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold back. But he wanted to wait; he didn’t want to spoil it. He thought about anything but the incredible feeling of her ass walls vibrating around his cock.

After a few long minutes, Grace opened her eyes and looked down at her husband. She smiled. “How does it feel to have your cock in my ass?’



“I couldn’t describe it in a million years,” he answered. “It is like nothing I have ever felt before. But don’t move yet. I am so close to going off I will explode if you move too soon.”



They held hands and remained still for a long time staring into each other’s eyes. The waves crashed on the rocks and the breeze caressed their bodies. Above them the seagulls continued to float on the air currents, uncaring what was happening below them. The crisis passed.



Slowly, almost imperceptibly Grace began to move. She allowed a fraction of an inch of his cock to slip out, and then an inch and then another and another until she had only the head inside. She squeezed her husband’s hands tightly and then pushed down hard.



Both of them screamed at the incredible sensation of his cock opening her asshole again. Without pausing Grace lifted up again and then moved back down. “Yes, yes, fuck my ass,” she gasped. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”



Walter lifted his hips to meet each of his wife’s downward plunges, forcing his cock all the way inside her. Unfortunately for Walter he could not last long inside her incredibly tight asshole. “Baby, I’m … I’m getting … close,” he gasped.



Grace was getting close too. She increased her speed until she was literally bouncing up and down on his cock. “Cum, cum, cum in your wife’s ass.”



“Ahhhhhiiiieeeee,” Grace screamed as she began to climax.



Walter was there as well. He pushed up with a huge lunge as Grace pushed down. They froze.



Grace thought she could feel his cock head expand in her ass. Then there was a pressure on the walls and he screamed. She knew he was shooting his semen into her. The world began to spin as wave after wave of pure pleasure shot through her. The roar of the waves, the crying of the gulls and the sound of the wind all faded away. Her body shivered and shook for long minutes. She had no idea how many times she had climaxed or for how long but the next thing she remembered was lying on Walter’s chest. She could feel his softening cock slip out of her asshole and she suddenly felt strangely empty.



Walter moaned.



“That was amazing,” she said.



Walter brought her lips to his and they kissed tenderly for a long time.



“I guess we had better get back, Thomas will be wondering where we are,” Grace said.



They dressed and walked hand in hand back to the hut. Grace didn’t think she had ever felt so satisfied. Her little rear hole hurt just a bit but the memory of what had caused that hurt more than compensated. She could feel his cum sliding out of her and it somehow felt right.



Chapter 3



“Walter, are you sure about this? It is your last chance to back out.” Grace asked with her heart thumping as they sat on the porch swing. Incredibly she almost felt that she wanted him to say no and that they could go back to being husband, wife, and son, and live like a normal family. A yes answer was going to change everything.



“Yes,” he said after a long pause. “I don’t like it, but sharing you is the only logical way. I am not sure how it will all work out but we have to do something. Do you think Thomas will agree to it?”



Grace smiled. “Unfortunately it is the only way. I believe I can convince Thomas. He gets what he wants and there is no reason for him to be jealous of you.”



“Do you think you can handle both of us?” Walter asked with a slight smile.



“I am sure of it. As you said, you are not that demanding. For quite some time my desire for sex has been off the charts. I know Thomas can be a handful, but so can I,” she said and laughed.



“Well, when are you going to tell him?”



Again Grace smiled. “I will tell him tonight.”



“Okay, then I will leave for the other side of the island today and return tomorrow evening. You and Thomas can have the hut for … for your activity.”



“I love you. I truly do. You are more of a man than I ever imagined,” Grace said as she hugged her husband.



“And you are certainly more of a woman then I ever knew.”



“Then we make a good pair.”



********************************************************************



When Thomas came home with several fish from his trip to the fishing nets he saw his mother setting the table. His father was not there.



He put the fish down and walked over to his mother, wrapping his arms around her from behind and grasping her large breasts. “Where is Father?” he asked.



Grace could feel his erection pressing to her ass. “He has gone to the other side of the island until tomorrow night.”



“Really, why?”



Grace turned in her sons arms. “He left to give us time together.”



Thomas opened his mouth but nothing came out.



“Yes, he has agreed to share me with you. He knows it is the only way.”



“Oh my God,” Thomas said excitedly. “Does that mean … that we can … that I can …?”



Grace interrupted saying, “It means that you can fuck me and that you can make me pregnant as many times as you want.” Grace couldn’t believe she was saying those words. She was telling her son he could fuck her and that she would have his babies. Her head began to spin with the implications of all this.



“I can’t believe it. Why did he agree?”



Grace took a deep breath and said, “He didn’t want to lose me … or even you. He said it is the only way we can survive.”



Ignoring the more important issues Thomas said, “When can we start?” Without waiting for an answer he pulled his mother to him and kissed her passionately. But when he tried to take her shirt off she pushed his hands away.



“This is a special night. Go get a bath while I fix dinner. Afterward I want you to leave for a while so I can get ready.”



Thomas had a pout on his face. “I have to wait?”



“You do. Now, go wash, you smell like fish,” Grace said. Then she reached down to his jeans and grabbed the tent in his pants. “Keep this hard for me. I want you to eat hardy because you are going to need your strength tonight.”



Thomas hurried off to take his bath. He did it in record time and came back for dinner. He tried to get romantic with his mother but she wouldn’t allow anything more than several passionate kisses.



After dinner, Grace went to the lagoon to take her bath. She looked around and was pretty sure that Thomas was not there. Then she washed and then creamed her entire body. She looked down at her reflection in the water and saw a pretty woman staring back at her. She, not unlike a new bride, could feel a glow about her. As she walked back to the hut she could feel her pussy swelling and growing moist. Her heart was already thumping and her nipples were like small pebbles on her chest.



She was humming to herself as she searched for an outfit to wear for this special occasion. Unable to find anything she really liked she pulled out a white beach wrap. It wasn’t much, just something to wrap around her lower half. She decided against wearing a top, and instead put on a necklace that Walter had made from shells he had found on the northern side of the island. The shells came down across her breasts almost to her naval. It was strange but she wanted something of Walter’s with her. Maybe it was for comfort, she didn’t know. She also put on a necklace that Thomas had made of metal from the ship using crude tools. It held a silver coin that he had polished to a bright shine.



When she saw Thomas coming back toward the hut she hurried and took out two glasses and a bottle of wine, which Walter had found in the wreckage of the ship. She stood in front of the bed with her hands on her hip, allowing the light from the moon to highlight her figure.



As Thomas drew closer his eyes got wider and wider. He thought she looked angelic and he had never seen her look more beautiful. “God, Mom, you look amazing.”



“Thank you,” she said and flushed just a bit.



They embraced and then kissed. Mother and son stood for many minutes kissing. Finally when they parted they were both breathless. Grace led her son to the bed. She poured two glasses of wine and gave one to Thomas as they sat down.



When the glasses were empty she took her son’s face in her hands and said, “I love you, Thomas. I love you as a son, but I love you as much as my new lover and the future father of my babies. This will be your first time for intercourse and I am so happy it is with me. I want you to make love to me … I want you to fuck me … I want you to pour your potent sperm into me. I want you to fill me over and over. Then I want to have your babies; lots of babies.”



Thomas gasped at his mother’s naughty words. He was trembling all over. His cock, already throbbing and dripping, was about to burst. As he kissed his mother again he stood and pushed his jeans off.



Grace lay back on the bed pulling him with her. A moment later he was lying between her legs. “I want to feel your chest on my breasts as you enter me. I want your cock now. Please fuck your mother, Thomas.”



With a shaking hand he took hold of his cock and he tried to find her opening. After a moment or two he let his mother gently push his hand away and grab his cock.



She centered it on her wet and waiting hole and then looked up into her son’s eyes. “Push your cock into me. Take it slow because I want to feel every inch.



With a little moan Thomas began to push into her.



That’s it, that’s it, slow,” she whispered as she felt Thomas’s cock moving into her inch by inch. “Oh Thomas, oh yes, oh yes, it feels so good.” When he was all the way inside she grabbed his ass and held him there. “Can you feel your mother’s warm pussy … that opening where you came from years ago … can you feel my warm flesh wrapped around your cock.”



“Yes, yes, yes, I can feel it, but it is driving me crazy. I want to fuck you, but I am afraid if I move I will climax.”



“Then wait, hold your cock in me. Let it soak in my juices. It is where it belongs … deep inside your mother. It feels so natural. I love you, Thomas,” she whispered and suddenly started to climax. It came on suddenly with waves of pleasure washing over her and making her body shake. It was a soft and slow climax like the gentle waves of the ocean washing onto shore. Ripples of pleasure traveled from her feet to the top of her head and back down again.



Thomas was concentrating so hard on not climaxing that he didn’t know his mother had … he only knew that her pussy was pulsing around his cock, almost driving him mad. If he had known his mother was climaxing it would have sent him over the top immediately.



When Grace could speak she hissed, “Now fuck me, Thomas. Fuck me hard.”



“God, Mother I am not sure I will last.”



“Its okay baby, you can cum in me quick this time. We will do it again and again.”



Thomas moaned and began to fuck his mother with powerful strokes. Nothing in his young life had prepared him for the incredible feeling of being inside his mother. He pounded into her, his hips a blur. “Ohhhhh, I’m cummmmmiiiinnnnng,” he screamed.



And so was Grace. She wasn’t sure if the first climax had ever ended. When she felt him pouring his seed into her, her climax intensified.



Thomas emptied his balls into his mother, but his cock did not go soft. He kept pumping her and now that he had climaxed he could go on for a long, long time. When he looked down at her, her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and her body was trembling. He knew she was still climaxing. It went on as he continued to fuck her. Her legs were wrapped around his waist now and her arms around his neck as her hips bucked upward into him. Each time he pushed down she responded by pushing back upward. Inside her he could feel her pussy pulsing and grasping his cock as pleasure continued rushing through her. He was amazed that someone could keep climaxing like this.



For Grace the outside world no longer existed. She was in her own world where there was no right or wrong, there was just pleasure. Her body felt like it was on fire, and it was a beautiful fire emanating from her center where the two of them met. It had been sparked by her son’s seed filling her opening, knowing that his sperm would be looking for her egg. It was not her fertile time of the month, but she had heard that some women generate an egg each time they climax … she hoped that was true because she would have generated about ten in the last fifteen minutes. From somewhere far away she heard Thomas say, “Mom, I’m cumming again.”



Those words fanned the already burning fire. The lights slowly went out for Grace. When she awoke some time later she realized that Thomas was still on top of her and he was still hard. Without missing a beat she pulled herself to him and it started all over. At some point Grace passed out again from sexual overload and exhaustion.



She awoke several hours later to feel her son sucking on her breasts. She smiled and watched him nursing at her tit. She loved the sight as well as the feeling. She trembled as he licked across her chest to the other side and began sucking the other tit. Incredibly she was getting excited again. When she moaned Thomas looked up and smiled.



He quickly kissed her lips before he started kissing down her body. He crossed her breasts and down to her stomach, using his tongue to tickle the smooth skin around her belly button. Slowly he moved lower.



“Thomas, what are you doing,” she gasped as he moved to position himself between her legs.



“Pleasing you,” he said and then went back to kissing her … across her lower stomach and down to her pubic mound. A moment later his tongue separated her still swollen lips and plunged inside.



“Oh, Thooommmassssss!!!” she screamed as she felt her son’s mouth on her soaked pussy. She lifted her hips pressing her gushing pussy to his sucking mouth. She began to climax.



Chapter 4



It was beautiful day as always when Grace opened her eyes the following morning. But this day was more beautiful then all the others. She and her son were now lover’s, but it was almost impossible for her to comprehend the meaning. She wondered if she ever would.



Her heart began to thump and warmth embraced her when she realized that her son was snuggled up to her back. One hand was over her and lying on her breast. She covered it with her hand and closed her eyes. The movement must have awakened Thomas because he began to massage her flesh. She could feel that he already had an erection. When he started to put it into her she halted him. She said, “Thomas, I’m a little sore down there.”



“Oh,” he said and pulled back.



A very naughty thought crossed Grace’s mind. She said, “But there is somewhere else that you can put it that is not sore.”



Thomas thought she was going to suck him, but when she didn’t move he became confused.



She turned to him. “Would you like to fuck your mother in the ass?”



“Huh, in your … your ass?” he said totally astounded. “I … you know, I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”



“You won’t hurt me. Just rub it up and down between my pussy lips and get it wet.”



Thomas’s hand was shaking when he grasped his cock. He never knew that what he was about to do was even possible. But if his mother said he could do it, he was willing to try. When his cock was wet he moved it to her tiny rear hole. He felt his mother separating her ass cheeks and he placed his swollen head on the tiny opening. “Are you sure?” he asked.



“Yes, just do it slowly. It is going to be tight at first. Push hard.”



With a little push of his hips Thomas’s cock moved a fraction into the tight hole. But it was forced back out.



“Harder,” Grace said.



He pushed again harder and kept the pressure on until her sphincter opened and then quickly snap closed around the crown of his cock. Both of them moaned.



“Hold still for a minute,” she said.



Thomas froze with just the head of his cock inside his mother’s asshole. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to push in further, but he waited. It seemed like an eternity before he felt his mother begin to push back toward him. He held firm and let her take the lead, her efforts caused his cock to slip slowly into her very tight hole. “God, Mom, it’s so tight.”



Grace couldn’t speak. She concentrated on taking his cock deeper and deeper into her. “All the way in now,” she said.



With one more shove Thomas felt his cock sink to the hilt in his mother’s asshole. It felt like there was a velvet vise around his cock. He was gasping for breath now, trying desperately not to move.



“Fuck me now, Baby,” she gasped.



“Oh, Mom,” Thomas cried as he pulled his cock out until just the head was inside and then thrust it back in. He moaned again and pulled out. Out and in he moved slowly but steadily.



“Fuck me hard,” Grace cried.



Suddenly he was pounding into her ass like it was her pussy. It was so tight that his thrusts received a lot more resistance. It felt like her asshole was milking his cock.



Grace began to rub her clit as her son pounded her asshole. She had let his father do it to give him something special, not because she thought she would like it. But it had felt good then, and even better now. She rubbed her clit faster and suddenly was climaxing. The climax sent ripples through her anal walls, massaging her son’s rapidly moving cock.



“Mom, Mom, Mom, I’m going to … ohhhhhh … cummmmmm!!!” Thomas screamed. A moment later he was blasting his load deep into her receptive anal opening.



When their mutual climax ended they collapsed on the bed. Grace felt her ass muscles pushing Thomas’s cock out of her ass, followed by a gush of his cum.



When Thomas could speak he said, “Wow, Mom. I didn’t even know you could do that.”



“Well I read about it, but I’m new to it as well,” she said, not telling him that she had done it with his father. “I think women in the old days used it prevent pregnancy. That is not our problem, however,” she said. “Now would my second husband like some breakfast?”



“Second husband?”



“Well, yes, if you are fucking me and I am having your babies then we are husband and wife. I just happen to have two husbands.”



“I like the husband and wife part,” he said and smiled.



Grace stood up and swayed back and forth. “Wow, my head is spinning.”



“Are you okay?” Thomas asked with concern.



“I think I just need to get the blood that was in my lower half back to my head.” She sat back down.



After eating they stayed in bed most of the day with the exception of nature’s call. It was obviously an incredible experience for Thomas, but it was also amazing to Grace. There was never a time when Walter had fucked her so many times or so well. It was almost like she was a new bride and in some ways she actually was.



Chapter 5



Thomas and Grace watched the sun go down from their porch. He had on his jeans and she was topless but with her wrap around skirt on. They had spent much of the day in bed. Now they sat on the swing holding each other close. Thomas turned his mother’s face to him and kissed her for the fiftieth time that day. It felt as good as the first one to Thomas. He reached up and grabbed her bare breast.



“Don’t you ever get enough?” she asked.



“No,” he responded.



“Oh God, I’ve created a monster.”



“I want to put my cock in you again.”



“It’s late and your father could be home any minute.”



“We have time. Sit on me,” he said.



With a fake exasperated sigh Grace stood up and turned around until her back was too him. “I’ll do it this way so I can watch for your father coming down the path.”



“I like that,” he said and pulled her down on his hard cock. It slipped into her much used pussy with ease. They both sighed as her thighs touched his indicating that she had all of him inside her. “Just sit still,” Thomas said.



Suddenly Grace heard Walter climbing up the ladder. In her lust for her son she had not heard or seen him coming. She started to panic. It was too late to pull off of Thomas so she simply turned sideways making it look like she was only sitting on her son’s lap.

When Walter reached the top of the steps he paused. He hadn’t noticed the two of them on the porch. When he did he could easily tell that they had been at it all day. Grace’s face was still flushed and her hair had not been combed.



“Hello, Sweetheart,” Grace said.



“Hi,” he responded without emotion. “Thomas,” he said, acknowledging his son as he continued up the second ladder to the living area.



As soon as he was gone, Thomas lifted his mother and had her turn to face him. With her legs straddling him he slid back inside her and then whispered, “Fuck me.”



“Thomas, your father,” she gasped, but it was too late … his cock felt too good for her to take it out. She bent her head to his shoulder and began to move her hips up and down. The movements made the swing creak in a rhythmic fashion. Anyone not seeing what was going on would still recognize the unmistakable sound. “Oh yes, I love your cock in me,” Grace whispered.



The two lovers worked at it for a long time before they climaxed. By that time even the birds in the trees knew they were fucking.



Walter was already in bed when Grace crawled in beside him. She turned over and blew her son a kiss before she put out the candle. A moment later she felt Walter reach around her and grasp her breast. Then she felt his erection pressing to her bare ass. She almost protested when she felt him searching for her opening, but realized that would cause problems. Instead she pushed back toward him and allowed his cock to slip into her very open and wet hole. Although his father was larger than Thomas, her pussy was wet enough that he could move in and out with ease. Incredibly Grace felt her excitement building. The through that this was the second cock she had taken in her pussy that day was enough to bring her to a small but satisfying climax. As soon as Walter climaxed they both fell into an exhausted sleep.



The next morning Thomas and Grace were up early. They went hand and hand to the lagoon where they stripped and jumped into the refreshing water. They splashed around like two newlyweds on their honeymoon. But soon the tickling and giggling turned into caresses and moans. With Thomas feet on the bottom he lifted his mother and entered her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon the water was splashing with their rapid movements and their cries of pleasure echoed from the stone walls surrounding the lagoon.



Clean and refreshed the two walked naked back to the hut. When they arrived Grace told Thomas to occupy himself because she wanted to talk to his father.



When she entered the hut she saw Walter bent over working. “What are you doing?” she asked.



“I’m just preventing another problem.”



Grace looked at him quizzically.



“Who are you going to sleep with?” he asked.



“Uh, I have not resolved that. I thought maybe I would alternate.”



“That’s not going to work. I’m expanding our bed so all three of us can sleep together.”



Grace’s eyes opened wide in surprise. But then a smile came to her face. “That is a perfect solution,” she said.



“Well, I hope Thomas agrees with you.”



“He will,” Grace said and hugged her husband. A moment later they were kissing. “Sit on the stool; I want to fuck you like I was fucking Thomas when you came home last night.”



Walter didn’t protest indicating that he knew that they were fucking on the porch. He sat down and Grace quickly sat on his cock.



“I don’t think we have ever done it like this,” she said. It still felt good to have her husband’s cock in her. She love Thomas’s cock, but Walter’s reached a deeper place. “I can take you really deep in this position. It feels so good. I love you.”



“I love you,” he answered.



Chapter 6



Walter was already in bed the following night and turned toward the back of the hut as if asleep when Grace and Thomas came in. Grace smiled at Thomas and motioned toward the expanded bed. He looked at her with confusion and she put a finger to her lips to motion him to be quiet because his father was asleep. Then she took off her clothes in front of him, sat on the bed and reached out to pull him closer. She quickly pulled his shorts down leaving him naked with his ever present erection. With a low growl in her throat she leaned forward and took him into her mouth. She looked up at him as she sucked his cock and saw his look of amazement … that his mother would be sucking his cock this close to his father. Then she pulled away and lay back, pulling Thomas to her.



Walter was not asleep. He had heard the sucking sounds and was pretty sure he knew what was going on. Then when he felt the bed move he knew his son had climbed into the bed as well.



Thomas and Grace kissed and cuddled for a long time … mother and son with their tongues entwined and their naked bodies pressed together.



“I need you to fuck me,” Grace said in a whisper. “But we have to be quiet.”



“Mmmm,” Thomas moaned. Then he slipped between her legs and placed his throbbing cock at her entrance. Biting his tongue to keep from crying out Thomas slid into his mother’s warm opening. A moment later the steady tempo of his hip brought a creaking sound from the bed.



Grace wrapped her legs around her son’s waist and lifted her hips to his thrusting cock. She was incredibly excited tonight and she wasn’t sure why. It might have been because she was having sex with her son as his father and her husband slept next to them. It didn’t take long before she was climaxing around her son’s moving cock. She held in a long moan and let it out in a slow and almost agonizing exhale of breath. That was followed by another climax and then another. Thomas was aware that his mother had climaxed but worked even harder to bring her more pleasure.



Grace lifted her head and whispered, “You’ve made me climax four times, please cum in me now.”



Thomas did not need to be told twice. He thrust into her several more times before he grunted and began to spurt his seed into her waiting pussy. He filled her to overflow before he collapsed and slid off her. A few minutes later he was breathing heavily and deep asleep.



Instead of going to sleep Grace turned over and cuddled the back of her husband. Then she whispered, “I know you are not asleep. I am still hungry for cock. Please fuck me.” God, is this really me, she thought after saying those words?



Walter rolled over and looked at his wife with surprise. Then he kissed her passionately. A few minutes later he pushed her onto her side and moved close behind her.



A moan escaped his lips when his cock slipped into her very wet and dripping hole.



When he began to move the room filled with the sloppy sucking sounds of an already fucked pussy. Walter pounded her as if he was trying to show that he could fuck her better than Thomas.



Grace didn’t care which one was fucking her at that point. Having both of them together was more than she could have ever imagined. Just the sound and the knowledge that her husband was using his sons cum as lubrication was enough to start her climaxing again. She was on number five when Walter moaned that he was going to cum. Then he added his seed to her already overflowing pussy.



Grace had a broad smile on her face as she fell asleep, her two exhausted lovers lying next to her, her pussy bubbling over with cum.



Over the next week Grace was having sex multiple times every day. Thomas would fuck her twice, sometimes three times per day, while Walter soon began to taper off and only had her every other day or so. Grace had had more climaxes in the last couple of weeks than she could remember in all her married life. The men seemed to be enjoying the situation as well.



Up until the last couple of years Grace had not been one that was easily aroused and did not always climax when having sex. But since being stranded on the island her libido had been working overtime and she couldn’t seem to get enough. Maybe it is because I am running around almost naked all the time now, she thought.



Sometimes Grace had mixed feelings about having sex with her son. On her down days she sometimes felt that she was not only a bad mom, maybe the worst kind, but also an unfaithful wife. Then she would look around and see the difficult situation they were in and convince herself that she was doing what was best for everyone. It was an incredible balancing act and it took all of her guile and cunning to keep peace in the family.



Most of the time the men seemed to ignore what was happening between the three of them. Walter and Thomas did not act like father and son, but more like competitors for a woman’s affection. That was fine with Grace as long as it did not turn into overt anger or jealously again. Until recently they had mostly kept their sexual contact private, but with the tight quarters and the small island that was destine to change.



One day when Grace returned from doing laundry she found Thomas lying on the bed napping. Walter was fishing. She slipped over to her son and pulled his cock from his shorts. Then she knelt and sucked him awake. His eyes opened and he smiled. Before she could bring him to a climax, however, he said, “Sit on my face.”



Grace didn’t think she had heard him correctly and said, “What?”



“I want to eat you as you sit on my face.”



Excited by his words Grace got up and looked out of the hut and could not see Walter anywhere around. She came back to the bed and quickly stripped. Then she straddled her son’s face. Looking down at him with love in her eyes she sat her pussy on his lips.



“Mmmmm,” she gasped when she felt his lips and then tongue begin to work on her. Because this was not something she had experienced with Walter she truly enjoyed it. It was also a strange feeling of power; she, superior over her son, her pussy pressing on his mouth. She was closing in on her first climax when she heard a noise on the porch. Suddenly she saw Walter coming into the hut. She tried to pull away from Thomas but he held her thighs tightly. She was almost in a panic when Walter stepped into the room and saw her. She began to climax.



At first he didn’t realize what was going on. Then his eyes grew wide when saw his son’s head between Grace’s legs. He started to turn and leave, and then he paused. He sighed, knowing he was going to have to get used to this. He got a cup of tea and sat at the table a few feet away and watched.



Grace, after she had recovered from her climax, and looked over at Walter with hooded eyes. She began to move again on her son’s welcoming face. A few moments later she mouthed to him “I’m cumming.”



She bounced and shook on her son’s face all the while staring at her husband. One climax led to another and then another until her juices nearly drowned the poor boy. Finally she pulled away and collapsed next to him. When he opened his eyes she was there to kiss him deeply. Then he turned his head and saw his father sitting at the table. He looked over at him and shrugged.



Then to everyone’s surprise Thomas said to his mother, “Suck my cock.”



Grace’s eyes opened wide but she didn’t hesitate. She looked at her husband as she leaned over and sucked her son’s cock into her loving mouth. With her eyes on her husband she made love to his cock. She took her time and made quite a production of it. And when Thomas climaxed she swallowed and glanced over at Walter to see him still staring.



When Thomas was drained dry Grace crawled over top her son and went to her husband at the table. She dropped to her knees and opened his pants, taking his hard cock out. She sucked his cock until he too climaxed in her mouth. In just fifteen minutes she had sucked two cocks and swallowed two loads of delicious cum.



Chapter 7



“Walter, it’s time,” Grace said a couple days later.



“Time for what?” he asked.



“I can tell my fertile period is coming on.”



“Oh,” Walter said.



“Are you still okay with this?” she asked.



“Do I have a choice?” he returned, already knowing the answer.



“I suppose not,” Grace answered. “I would like to start tonight. It generally lasts for two days … my fertile period that is.”



“Okay,” Walter said, not knowing where Grace was going with this.



“Well, I … we … Thomas and I would like a little time together. We want to make sure I am … you know … am filled with plenty of sperm.”



“I see,” Walter said, realizing what she wanted. “Okay, I’ll take a little hunting trip over to the other side of the island. Good luck.”



Grace got tears in her eyes. She touched her husband’s face and said, “Thank you so much. I will make it up to you, I promise. I love you.” She kissed him passionately. When his hands came up to her breasts she gently pushed him away. “That is for our son now, you can have them later,” she said, with a smile on her face.



Walter returned the smile and said, “I’ll hold you to that.” He went to pack his gear.



Later that night when Thomas came back to the hut he found a note on the door. It said, “Sweetheart, your father has gone to the other side of the island for two days. It is my special time of the month … I am fertile. Go to the lagoon and take a bath and come back to me. We are going to spend the next two days making love, and hopefully, making babies.”



Thomas almost fell off the porch in his haste to get to the lagoon. He washed in record time and hurried back to the hut. By that time it was dark except for small torch lights showing him the way inside. Inside the hut smelled of multiple flowers and coconut oil. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did he almost gasped. He saw his mother standing near the bed. She was topless but had on a pair of tight panties, showing the indentation of her pussy lips.



“Glad you made it back,” she said looking at his already hard penis. She held two coconut halves in her hand with some type of liquid in them. When he walked over she handed him one.



“It is fermented passion fruit I made. I found the recipe in one of the books from the ship. It is very strong, so do not drink too much at once. It is said to fortify men when they have to perform for their lovers.”



“I don’t think I need that,” he said and laughed.



“You might,” she said naughtily.



Thomas took a drink of the sweet tasting liquid and swallowed. He could feel the burning of the fermented juice as it reached his stomach. Two more drinks later, his cock, which had been hard since he had seen his mother’s note, suddenly pulsed and throbbed and seemed to grow longer. He wasn’t sure it was the liquid or the idea of making his mother pregnant but he didn’t think his cock had ever been this hard. He took a couple more drinks and felt his head begin to swim.



“That should do for now,” Grace said as she stood up and took the container from him, sitting hers and his on the table. Then she moved into his arms, pulling him to her. She whispered, “Are you ready to make your mother pregnant?”



“Oh God, yes,” he returned.



“So am I. I never could have imagined this a few years ago, but I want it now more than anything in the world. I want to know your seed is inside me, searching for my egg … millions of seeds, looking for your mother’s one egg … each sperm alive and battling, fighting to be the one that reaches the egg first … and then to penetrate the protective coating and create life.”



“Oh God, Mom, you are going to make me cum before I get into you. I can’t believe how hard I am.”



With a naughty smile Grace slowly stripped off her panties and dropped them on the floor. She left the boots on. Then she stepped back and sat down on the bed. She grasped her breasts and lifted them saying, “You are going to make my body change. These will get much bigger and fill with milk, which if there is more than enough for the baby, you can drink it. My belly will get bigger too,” she said, rubbing her hands on her stomach. “And the baby will grow in here.” She leaned back further and spread her legs. “In the same place you were conceived and grew. See how wet my pussy is? It is waiting for you. It hungers for your cock. My opening wants your cock to spurt your seed deep inside. I can feel my insides churning, waiting for what is to come.” Grace spread her legs and opened her pussy for him. Then she said, “Thomas, fuck your mother. Make me pregnant.”



With an almost animalist grown Thomas hurried over to the bed and crawled between his mother’s welcoming legs.



“Don’t rush, don’t rush,” Grace whispered. “Slowly, put it in slowly, ahhh, yes that’s it.”



She almost swooned when her son’s cock slipped into her incredibly wet pussy. “Deeper, deeper, so I can feel your sperm filled balls on me. Ohhhhhh my baby, oh yes, stay like that, just like that, deep in your mother. I can feel your cock throbbing. I can feel every inch of it.”



Thomas’s head was floating as if in the clouds and his body was tingling



“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Sweetheart,” Grace moaned, floating on the same cloud as her son.



Thomas fucked his mother constantly for over an hour, his hips never stopping. Grace could not have counted the climaxes she had, but vaguely thought that if this potion really worked then she was sending many, many eggs to be penetrated by her son’s sperm.



“Mom, can I cum in you now?” Thomas finally said.



“Oh yes baby, cum in your mother, my eggs are ready and waiting. I can feel them, I can feel them, ahhhiiiieeeeee,” she said and screamed as another massive climax over took her.



To Thomas it like his balls were as big as coconuts and every bit of milk was pouring into his mother’s pussy. His cock throbbed and squirted, throbbed and squirted, over and over. But when he thought it was over his cock was still hard and he started again. He climaxed three times inside her and his cock never grew soft.



The two of them fucked all night, pausing only to catch an hour of sleep here and there. By morning they were both worn out, but still excited.



“God Mom, look at me. I have climaxed all night and my cock is still hard.”



“Well, let’s let it rest for a while. We need to eat to replenish our strength.”



They ate breakfast and went back to bed to fuck again.



By the end of the second day Grace was almost certain that she was going to get pregnant. Even if she didn’t she had never experienced sex like that in her life. It seemed that she was in a state of perpetual bliss. Her head was spinning and she could think of nothing but her son and his sweet cock.



That night and again the following day they fucked multiple times until Grace’s pussy was sore and Thomas’s cock just couldn’t get hard anymore.



Chapter 6



Over the next weeks the dynamics of the family changed dramatically. There was no longer any pretense or hiding sex between the three of them. Almost every night one or both of them made love to her. It might have been the competition or the possibility that she was pregnant, but Walter seemed to have a new energy. Of course it might also have been because they, for the most part, had dispensed with the wearing of clothes. Sometimes Grace put on panties, but mostly she was naked around the men. That by itself added to her own overactive libido.



Grace, for the first time in her life, was finally getting all the sex she wanted. She seemed to have no difficulty keeping both men happy.



Two months later Grace thought she might be pregnant. She had missed two periods and that never happened. The realization that she was pregnant made her extremely happy, but there was also apprehensive about bringing an infant into this uncivilized environment. She waited for a couple weeks before telling Thomas and Walter in order to be sure she was in fact pregnant. By that time her belly had started to pouch, her tits were larger, and her nipples were very sensitive. They were soon going to notice that her body was changing.



The three of them were having dinner when Grace said she had an announcement to make. Walter raised his eyebrows and Thomas looked at her curiously.

All characters are 18 years or older.



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



My parents own a small clothing store that does quite well so I don’t need a part-time job after school or in the summers. I used to work in the store but soon quit going because Dad often criticized me in front of the staff. He seemed pleased that I quit going even though he often worked late and could have used help doing the inventory. Mom often offered my services when Dad announced that he had to go back to the store in the evening but he always declined, which I appreciated.



Mom, however, wasn’t too pleased. Eventually, together with other indicators, I came to believe that Mom suspected Dad of having an affair with one of the staff. Dad had hired a number of new people over the years since Mom had left the store and they were all fairly attractive women. With one exception, they were either single or single moms.



As with most good-looking women, Dad’s suspected dalliances hurt Mom. I often had the TV to myself when we were home because Mom would retire to her room shortly after Dad went back to work. On the days when he stayed home, he often read and totally ignored her, despite her attempts to keep up her looks through exercise, diet, dressing nicely, and getting fancy hairdos, all to no avail. Mom became withdrawn and unhappy. My father was quite an asshole.



Despite Mom’s depression, she maintained her health, always exercising and maintaining a healthy diet. However, her make-up suffered along with her wardrobe and her hair was often a mess. One day, I came home to find her with a very short cut that would have looked avant-garde on a woman with a more dynamic, positive outlook. I’m sure Mom had adopted the look simply because it was easier to care for and, in her mind, made her less feminine and therefore less attractive, thus explaining why her husband ignored her.



That triggered something inside me and I decided to find out for myself if Dad really was having an affair with one of the women at the store. Wouldn’t it be great to confess to Mom that I had falsely suspected Dad so she would know that her private suspicions were also unfounded?



Half an hour after closing on a Friday night I entered the store through a back-alley window whose lock I knew to be faulty. I crept through the mezzanine where we kept lots of old displays and mannequins until I could look down upon the main storage area behind the retail area and into Dad’s office off on the left side. The door to the office was open but I could have easily seen inside even if it was shut because the rear wall of the office was comprised of a large window so Dad could make sure nobody was slacking off. There was also a peek-hole into the main store designed to keep the staff vigilant.



Leaning back in his reclining swivel chair, Dad appeared to be thinking. He certainly wasn’t working on the books because the desk in front of him was oddly clear except for a roll of blue shop towels standing up on one end.



A woman breezed through the swinging doors that separated the retail area from the rear of the store. I sighed in disappointment. Crap, it was Mrs. Omed. I had been expecting one of the younger girls or even one of the single moms, maybe especially one of them. Dad wouldn’t be having a tryst with Mrs. Omed there. The night was lost. I’d have to try another time.



Mrs. Omed swept straight into Dad’s office, cash box in hand, which surprised me. When I had worked at the store, everybody knocked and waited to be acknowledged before entering Dad’s office, even if the door was open.



“Okay Ted, everything’s locked up.”



And that surprised me for a second time. Mrs. Omed called Dad by his first name, a huge no-no. He always called his staff by their first names but everyone had to call him Mr. Horlock.



“Tanya, how many times have I told you not to use my first name. You’re going to slip up in front of one of the other girls one day and that won’t be good.”



It wasn’t Dad’s tolerance for Mrs. Omed’s indiscretion that gave me my final shock. It was the way he had spun around in his chair, pants open and hard cock standing up, ready for action.



“Well, aren’t we touchy today, Mr. Horlock,” Mrs. Omed replied in a sassy voice.



“Enough playing around,” Dad waved his hand impatiently. Mrs. Omed complied with his silent command, falling to her knees in front of him. Dad immediately grasped the sides of her head and pulled her face toward him but she resisted.



“I only have time for this tonight, Ted,” she said, emphasizing Dad’s first name. “Norm’s rented a movie and is waiting to watch it with me.”



“Yeah, yeah,” Dad grunted, pulling Mrs. Omed’s head onto his lap. “Ahhhh, that’s it,” he cried, straining his legs and shoving his hips up.



Mrs. Omed’s head snapped back as her mouth filled with Dad’s cock but he pulled her back down to the seat as he fell back and kept her there while he thrust his cock rapidly in and out of her face.



“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this all day.”



Mrs. Omed mumbled something I couldn’t make out.



“God, you’ve got one fucking hot mouth, baby.”



Mrs. Omed mumbled again. It looked like she was trying to pull off but Dad was gripping her hair firmly with his right hand, pulling her to and fro, while his left cupped the back of her head to block any unauthorized retreat.



“Yeah baby, take it deep.”



Dad leaned forward and plunged his cock uncaringly in and out of Mrs. Omed’s mouth. This went on for quite a while, the air filled with my father’s heavy breathing and the occasional desperate gasp from Mrs. Omed when Dad released her long enough to gulp in some air.



Each time, Mrs. Omed’s head was quickly recaptured, remaining free just long enough for her to breathe and sometimes turn sideways to drool onto the plastic carpet protector. This always seemed to catch Dad by surprise and he drilled Mrs. Omed in the cheek but before thrusting his hips forward to shove his cock, squelching noisily, back into her mouth while pulling on her head for good measure. Mrs. Omed took this rough treatment without complaint. She even unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off her arms, while her head was locked in front of Dad’s pistoning cock, and tossed it behind her. I guess she didn’t want it to get covered in drool and then have to wear it home.



“I swear, you’re the best little cocksucker I’ve ever had,” Dad huffed and puffed.



Squelch, squelch, squelch.



“But I’m still going to fuck you before you go, Norm or no Norm.”



Mrs. Omed yanked her head back, surprisingly breaking free of Dad’s grip, and spit on the floor.



“No you’re not,” she gasped. “I told you, I’m going home.”



“Just a quickie on the desk.”



“No,” Mrs. Omed sputtered.



“Come on. You know you love it from behind.”



“No,” Mrs. Omed insisted.



“Okay, but then you have to take it in the face.”



“For fuck sakes, Ted. You know I hate that.”



“Hey, you’re the one that wants Christmas off.”



Mrs. Omed unsnapped her bra and shucked it.



“Do it on my tits,” she said.



I actually stretched up and craned my neck in an attempt to see better despite the danger of being seen. I remembered that Mrs. Omed had a very full blouse for such a petite woman and I wanted to see her tits. I bet they were something to behold, slung low and overly meaty for her size. However, her back was mostly to me and all I could see were the sides of her melons as they swayed in front of her. My cock was hard as a rock.



“In the face if you want to go home to Normie right away.”



Dad twisted his head and looked at the roll of blue shop towels he had set in the middle of his desk. Mrs. Omed followed his gaze. I always wondered why Dad kept shop towels on his desk instead of Kleenex. I had thought it was because they were cheaper but now I knew better. Dad must have been doing this for years, even when Mom and I worked at the store. Vague memories surfaced of Dad insisting that I go home with Mom while he stayed late to “clean up a few things.” I guess he had a weird sense of humor.



Mrs. Omed flashed Dad what I suspected was a dirty look. “Asshole,” she said, but her posture slumped in resignation.



Dad grabbed Mrs. Omed by the top of her hair and pulled her onto his cock. The squelching started anew with increased vigor and when Mrs. Omed tried to pull her head away Dad followed her, rising out of his chair. Mrs. Omed fell back on her haunches and Dad stood over her, still holding her hair while jacking his cock, getting ready to spew all over her face.



“Wait, Ted, wait!”



Mrs. Omed struggled up to her feet. “Not on my face,” she said, gasping. “I don’t want to get it in my hair.”



“Get back down and take it,” Dad barked, breathing so raggedly I thought he was going to have a heart attack.



“No,” Mrs. Omed was defiant.



“You little bitch,” Dad yelled, trying to force Mrs. Omed back onto her knees with a hand still gripping her hair.



“Ted don’t,” Mrs. Omed cried, bending over, facing the ground, but refusing to get on her knees.



Dad tried to twist her face up so he could unload but relented, the moment of release obviously passing him by. He swore and instead of letting Mrs. Omed stand up, he dragged her head around and pushed her onto the desk, shouting, “You better wipe the drool off your fucking face before going home to Normie.”



Mrs. Omed’s head knocked the roll of shop towels over but she grabbed it before it rolled off the desk, tore off a couple of sheets, and started wiping the drool off her face. Dad watched her ass wiggle as she rubbed, patted her behind, and then slipped his right hand under her skirt.



“Stop it. I told you I don’t have time.”



“I’m just getting you primed for Normie.”



“Don’t be an asshole,” Mrs. Omed snapped, ripping off another sheet of shop towel.



I was surprised that Mrs. Omed didn’t bat Dad’s hand away. It was already moving under her skirt, rubbing back and forth but Mrs. Omed continued cleaning her face and seemed oblivious to his shenanigans.



“You’ve got a great ass, Tanya. When are you gonna let me have it?”



“Never.”



“Don’t hold your breath waiting for Normie to do it.”



Dad did something under Mrs. Omed’s skirt that made her lurch forward.



“Ted, I said no,” Mrs. Omed barked.



“Come on, you’ll love it,” Dad husked.



Dad’s hand rubbed in a slow, exaggerated arc, moving Mrs. Omed’s whole body to and fro. His other hand lifted her skirt and I could see her butt with his hand firmly ensconced between her tightly clasped thighs. Dad’s thumb was arched skyward and pressed into Mrs. Omed’s panties between her cheeks, wiggling like he was trying to push it into something.



“Ted, don’t.”



Ignoring her, Dad yanked her panties down to the top of her thighs. Her bare ass beckoned and I wondered why I had ignored it in favor of the smaller ones on the younger staff. It looked so inviting, bent over like that. Dad’s hand constantly moved between Mrs. Omed’s legs.



“Dooon’t,” she wailed.



Dad suddenly lowered his arm and pushed it in, moving further forward. Fuck, he had his fingers jammed way into her cunt. A different squelching sound drifted up to the loft as Dad rapidly finger banged Mrs. Omed, his hand squelching in and out. Holy fuck, it looked like he was getting even more than just fingers in there.



Mrs. Omed moaned, “Stop it,” but she complied when Dad’s left hand pressed on her back and lowered her tits onto the desk and she moved her legs farther apart when Dad kicked her foot.



The only sounds now in the store were the liquid squelching and a chorus of heavy breathing. Mrs. Omed’s legs began quivering and several times she rose up on her elbows until Dad pressed her back onto the desk.



Mrs. Omed was moaning constantly, her ass wiggling above trembling legs wrapped around Dad’s pumping fist, until one final thrust caused her to wail out loud. Mrs. Omed rose up on the desk, legs stiffening as she shuddered on Dad’s hand, and her wail turned to a whimper as she slumped onto the desk. Dad stared at her trembling cheeks.



“Fuck, I gotta have me some of that,” Dad he said.



Mrs. Omed lay quite still though she had to know what Dad was about to do. he fed his half-hard cock into Mrs. Omed’s well-plied hole and started pumping right away. Soon, he was rocking her back and forth on the desk with as little concern for her comfort as when he was punishing her face with his cock.



Dad fucked Mrs. Omed for quite a long time and she seemed in no hurry to finish despite her stated desire to go home to her husband. A couple of times, Dad pulled Mrs. Omed’s head up from the desk and twisted it so he could stick his fingers into her mouth. The enraptured expression on her face left no doubt that she wanted to be exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.



When they finally came, noisily and together, Dad slowly ground his cock around Mrs. Omed’s butt, thigh muscles bulging with the effort of digging it in so deep. He seemed reluctant to leave her steamy warmth, which I understood. I wished it was my cock buried in her cunt. Eventually, Dad’s cock slithered out and he pulled his pants up while Mrs. Omed reached behind, still lying prone on the desk, and pulled up her panties.



“Okay, I’ll lock up and you can go home to Normie.”



Mrs. Omed shook her head, like there was no teaching an old dog new tricks. Laughing, Dad slapped her on the butt and her skirt fell into place when she jerked up.



“Don’t let Normie wear that out on me.”



“I wish,” Mrs. Omed replied sarcastically.



“I wish you’d let me do it on your face more,” Dad’s voice softened. “It isn’t that bad.”



“I told you, Norm’s waiting for me. Last time I was late getting to the restaurant and when I was brushing my hair in the restroom I saw some in my hair.”



“No shit?” Dad laughed.



“It wasn’t funny. Thank God it was hidden underneath and nobody saw it. As it was, I could still feel it on my face and I felt just horrible.”



“You shouldn’t be ashamed of getting what you want. Norm’s a good guy but he can’t give what you need, just like Lisa can’t for me.”



“Have you ever asked her?”



“Why bother? She doesn’t know how and wouldn’t anyway, but you sure do, don’t you?”



The lecherous tone returned to Dad’s voice as he patted the back of Mrs. Omed’s skirt.



“You’re not getting any of that.”



“Yeah, well you said you’d never let me come on your face either.”



“Maybe I won’t anymore.”



“If you give me your ass, I’ll leave your face alone.”



“Yeah, right. You want to come on my face every time.”



“That’s ’cause you always say no.”



“I’m not letting you in my butt, even for two weeks off at Christmas.”



“Did I say just Christmas? You can have Thanksgiving too. You’ll love it, you know…”



Dad turned the light off and their voices trailed off as they made their way to the front of the store. I waited in the dark until I was sure they were both gone.



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



Well, I guess I’d discovered what I wanted to know. What did I do now? I couldn’t tell Mom. Christ, my own feelings were a mess. On the one hand, I hated Dad for doing this to Mom but on the other I was tremendously excited about the way he had treated Mrs. Omed.



I mean, Mrs. Omed, of all people. I remembered her as prudish, tightly wound-up, and bossy to the girls, kind of like a little matriarch. Yet, there she was, taking a throat fucking and almost a load on her face, followed up by a hard pounding from behind, from her boss.



Her boss. Was that the ticket. Dad had been so confident, so dominant, and this normally in-control woman had subjugated herself. For what? An extra week off over the holidays? That wasn’t the real reason. No way. She had prostrated herself before my Dad because he was strong, and because he was, he got her to do things like they did on the porno sites. Except, they were paid to act, no matter how real they tried to make it. But this, what I had just witnessed, wasn’t an act, and I was convinced the ‘pay’ was incidental.



Mrs. Omed obviously wanted to get fucked. Why else would she leave her butt so provocatively presented after Dad bent her over the desk? She could have easily got up after getting the shop towels but she didn’t. Yes, Dad was rough but Mrs. Omed invited it.



I wondered if Dad ever treated Mom like that? Mrs. Omed acted like he was incapable of acting differently and the shop towel convinced me they, or at least Dad, had been doing this for years. Dad hadn’t started the store, he had inherited it from his father. Had Dad always treated women that way and did they always succumb to him? Mom had worked in the store with Dad when his father still owned it. I knew Mom and Dad met when she started working at the store when his father still ran it. Was Mom the only one who wouldn’t submit, or did he not even try like he intimated to Mrs. Omed because she was the marrying kind? Or had she, and he just tired of her? If so, did she miss it?



On the long walk home, I convinced myself it was the former. Dad couldn’t handle being a ‘Norm’ and Mom was the marrying kind, the kind that wasn’t a lot of fun, but the type his father would approve of.



“Where were you?” Dad asked when I came in. He was pouring himself a drink and still looked smug.



“Out for a walk,” I answered. “Where’s Mom?”



“In bed, I guess.” I could tell he didn’t much care where she was.



I went upstairs, walking softly so I didn’t wake Mom. Her door was open and the light was on. I looked in, prepared to say hi but she was lying on her stomach, arms stretched over a pillow, holding a book in front of herself, reading. The covers were thrown back, falling over the end of the bed onto the floor.



It had been a hot summer so far and Mom was wearing a short nightie, lying with her legs apart and one foot raised. I looked up her legs and into the darkness between her thighs, wondering if she was wearing panties underneath. My cock swelled up and I remembered that I had come in my pants while watching Dad and Mrs. Omed, although I didn’t know at which point. I needed to shower, but something held me in place.



Mom had nice legs, I noticed, as if for the first time. Sure, I knew Mom was good looking, much prettier and with a better figure than Mrs. Omed, but I had never evaluated her appearance from a sexual perspective. Mom had long, sexy legs and the twin orbs cresting beneath her nightie hinted of a similarly appealing derriere. I imagined Mom bent over Dad’s desk, like Mrs. Omed, and touched myself just as her head twitched to the side, as if suddenly aware that someone was behind her. I stepped past the door before she could turn around far enough to see me.



I took a long shower and stood out of the spray so I could jack off without any telltale sounds giving me away. I tried hard but couldn’t remember ever hearing Mom and Dad having sex, even though their bedroom was only ten feet away across the hall, except for maybe three or four times. Did they do it during the day? Did Dad sneak home for afternooners?



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



“Because I haven’t been sleeping well,” Mom snapped.



Dad raised his hands and backed off. I was still sitting at the dining room table, eating my dessert, and my parents were in the living room.



“I’ve been tired lately,” Mom’s tone became apologetic. “I haven’t been myself.”



“Maybe you should have a nap in the afternoon,” Dad suggested.



My ears perked up. Was this it?



“Yes, maybe I should. Are you working again tonight?”



“No, but I probably will be tomorrow. We have a new order in so I might miss dinner.”



“I thought it came in last week.”



“That was another one.”



“Oh, alright. I’ll leave something in the oven for you.”



“Don’t bother, I’ll get something downtown.”



“Suit yourself.”



“Rob? Are you going to be home tomorrow afternoon?”

“Me? Uh, yeah, I think so.” I thought for a moment, then said, “No, I won’t. I have to go over to Rick’s.”



“Oh.” Dad looked at Mom. “Maybe I can swing by for a while tomorrow afternoon.”



“Okay,” Mom looked pleased but not convinced.



I couldn’t stop thinking about that exchange all night. I became convinced that Mom and Dad were going to have an afternooner. Why else would he make sure I wouldn’t be home? This was my chance to see if Dad treated Mom like he did other women. I had tried, but I couldn’t remember much about the times I had heard them having sex except that they had just been a bunch of muffled sounds.



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



The day dragged slowly, not long after lunch I made a big production of leaving so Mom would know I wasn`t home.



“See ya,” I yelled as I left. “I may not make it home for supper. I might be quite late,” I added.



There was no response from Mom. I closed the door and revved the car a couple of times before leaving. Parking the car a couple of blocks away, I returned to the house, my eyes peeled for Dad’s car even though I was coming from the opposite direction from where he would come. I climbed onto the garage roof and into my room through the window. Dad’s car wasn’t there.



Cautiously, I listened at the barely cracked open door to my room, trying unsuccessfully to locate Mom in the house. The place was dead quiet, so I stayed where I was. I dared not move lest a floor creak give me away. Time passed. I lay down on the carpet, my head near the door. I stretched out my legs to get comfortable waiting for Dad’s arrival.



My eyes opened and I jerked my head up from the carpet. Fuck. I had dozed off.



What was that? I listened intently. Nothing.



Was Dad home? I looked at the window and started to push myself up but stopped. I couldn’t check without risking a telltale squeak. I got onto my knees but remained there in a crouch, ear spanning the gap between the door and the jamb. I was breathing shallowly but it was deafening in my ear.



“Mmmmm.”



The affect of that faint sound on me was incredible. Every muscle tingled, especially in my scrotum. I looked down at myself and kicked myself for not getting changed earlier. How could I sneak up for a peek into Mom and Dad’s room in my jeans?



“Mmmmm.”



There it was again. My ears weren’t playing tricks on me.



“Mmmmmm.”



How had Dad managed to get in the house without me hearing? Was it part of their foreplay? Did he sneak into the house and take her like some kind of intruder? Having watched my father with another woman, it wouldn’t surprise me if he played some kind of kinky game with Mom.



“Mmmmmm.”



Shit, he must be eating her out. I’ve got to get ready. I stood up, teetered, started to grab the door for support, realized the folly of that, and took a single step sideways, thankfully managing to regain my balance without making any noise. Carefully, I made my way to the bed and quietly removed my clothes. I started taking off my shorts, then stopped, realizing that if I was caught, it wouldn’t look good if I was stark naked. I made my way back to the door.



“Mmmmm.”



I pulled the door open, congratulating myself on possessing the smarts to have oiled the hinges the previous night.



“Mmmmmm.”



That was louder but probably because I was in the hallway. I started toward Mom’s room, moving very slowly.



“Mmmmmm.”



My cock was so hard it was trying to break through my shorts, painfully stretching the material up beyond the waistband. I grasped my shorts and pulled them away from my stomach, letting my cock spring free. Carefully, I let the waistband relax so it wouldn’t snap noisily back and congratulated myself again for keeping my wits about me.



“Mmmmm…oh, yesss.”



My chest constricted. Mom was really getting into it. I couldn’t hear any other noise, so Dad couldn’t be fucking her yet. I took two more steps, then paused to listen.



“Mmmmmm, nice.”



Mom’s appreciation was followed by a brief liquid-like squelching noise.



“Yesss.”



More squelches.



My cock lurched, even though the waistband of my shorts held it tight against my stomach. I pushed my shorts down to my knees, then stooped to shove them over my feet, lifting one leg at a time. I turned and tossed them toward my door but they fell short and landed in the hallway.



Squelch, squelch, squelch.



“Ohhhh, yess.”



Dad was there! He had to be eating Mom to make such squishy sounds without the concomitant noise of depressed mattress springs. He couldn’t be just fingering her unless he was pushing his whole hand into cunt, like he did with Mrs. Omed. My cock oozed its special cream. Fuck, oh fuck, I had to see this! I closed the remaining distance to the door, took a deep but controlled breath, and peered inside.



Mom was lying on her bed. Alone!



She was face down, lying on a pillow but lower than before, under her stomach instead of her chest, and she wasn’t reading. I couldn’t see her head, just her hair, but I saw enough that I could tell she was looking to the right. I looked that way and found myself staring at the open door to the bathroom, wondering if Dad was inside. Fear of impending discovery gripped my mind but not enough to make me retreat.



Nothing happened. Dad didn’t come out and I couldn’t hear any noises in the bathroom. I looked back at Mom and saw that she wasn’t actually looking at the bathroom. She was looking at the TV hanging on the wall beside it, watching the porn movie quietly playing on the screen. I could barely heard it from the doorway.



“Mmmmm.”



I turned and faced into the doorway. Mom was wearing the same nightie, or one a lot like it, that I had seen her in before but now it was pulled up onto her back leaving her ass bare. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Her legs were open, wider than before, and her behind was moving up and down, just a little. My eyes followed its movements for a minute before I noticed something between Mom’s legs.



Her hand?



Yes, but something else too. Something black and shiny, glistening with moistness, appearing and then disappearing.



A dildo.



Fucking hell, Mom was doing herself with a big dildo, her ass gently moving up and down with a steady rhythm. As I watched her over the next few minutes, I noticed her thighs flexing more strongly with each passing moment and her buttocks clenching tighter with each downward thrust, pausing on the downswing for a microsecond longer each time. A very controlled, intense self-fuck.



The air was filled with a lot more “Mmmmm’s” now and each one was more prolonged. Mom was getting into it, becoming hornier and hornier just like I was. I don’t know when I started jacking off but suddenly became aware that I was stroking my cock and clutching my balls. I had dangerously moved several feet forward, unaware that I had done so, and was only five feet or so from the bed.



I looked at the TV. A large man wearing a medieval-looking, studded leather outfit was slowly shoving an impossibly large cock in and out of a woman dressed in a simple white dress that had fallen up her back as she hunched over on her knees. Her hands were tied behind her and the giant man held them in one hand while he slapped her ass with the other.



I looked back at Mom, suddenly conscious of the fact that if it wasn’t for the muted sound from the TV, Mom could probably hear my own breathing that had become much more excited during the past few minutes.



I had to get out of here!



I started to take a step back but stopped mid-step. What was Mom wearing? There was something black around her head. I leaned forward, peering to see what it was. A mask. Mom couldn’t even see what was on the TV!



I started retreating again but was still leaning forward and I stumbled, my foot falling more heavily on the floor but still barely making a sound. I don’t know what gave me away, that silent footfall or my breathing, but Mom suddenly lifted her head.



Mom’s ass had frozen on the up-stroke, the black dildo plainly showing, half embedded in her pussy. Her head twisted further. She would easily be able to let go of the dildo and remove the mask before I could make it to the door. I was trapped!



I was nailed to the floor, not breathing. Mom’s neck showed the strain of craning around to ‘look’ behind her. She was listening as intently as I was desperate not to make a sound. I needed to breathe.



Please, turn away. Please Mom. It’s nothing. There’s nobody here. Not even Dad.



Dad? Of course. Mom was expecting Dad. All of this was in preparation for his entrance. That’s why she didn’t call his name. That would ruin their role-playing game. I had only one chance and I took it.



I ran toward the bed, jumped, and pounced on Mom, pinning her legs and grabbing the back of her neck, then forced her head down into the bed, controlling it the way I had seen Dad do with Mrs. Omed. Mom waited, panting heavily.



What now? I couldn’t just leave. I had to do something. I couldn’t fuck her. After all, she was my mother. Spying on her was one thing, actually touching her quite another, but I had to do something. I reached down and took possession of the dildo. Uncertain at first, but with more confidence, I moved it in and out of Mom’s pussy, keeping my other hand on the back of her neck to immobilize her head.



After a minute or two, without any struggle from Mom and, in fact, complete acceptance, I relaxed. I let my hand slide down from Mom’s neck to caress her back, following along her spine until I reached the bare skin in the small of her back. Tentatively, I moved my hand onto Mom’s ass and brushed my fingers back and forth across her buttocks, eventually pausing to let my fingertips trail up her crack.



Awesome! Fucking awesome!



Mom lifted her ass in a silent request for more, of my fingertips or the dildo I didn’t know, so I gave her more of both. She arched her back so I knew I had done well. I slipped my left hand up Mom’s back, under the nightie, taking my fill of her bare skin. I couldn’t believe that Dad could do what he did with this waiting for him at home.



I stretched my hand right through the nightie and up onto the back of Mom’s neck, pinching my fingers around it in a controlling clutch. If there was a message in my touch, Mom got it because she arched her back even more and ground her uplifted ass around the dildo when I sunk it in deep. She moaned loudly.



Oh Jeez, that fucking sound almost made me come. I looked down at my hard cock waving above Mom’s bare ass, at hers churning on the dildo, and pulled it out. Mom groaned, a magnificent, disappointed plea.



I stared at her gaping pussy lips, trembling before me, aching to be parted, so the cavern they protected could be filled. I put my hand on my cock and bent it toward Mom’s gaping cunt.



No! She’s Mom!



I let my hand slide off my cock or, more accurately, shoved it off. It collided with Mom’s mewling ass. Slowly, I clenched my fingers into a fist and ground my knuckles into Mom’s pussy lips. She moaned loudly again. I opened my hand, let my fingers find her lips, and slipped inside.



So wet, so deliciously wet, and warm. I had never been with a woman. I had only watched porn and felt up Margaret Wenton on a couple of dates. Were women actually supposed to be hot?



I worked my fingers in and around Mom’s pussy, twisting my hand while my fingers stretched out in eager exploration. Mom’s moans told me she loved what I, what ‘Dad’, was doing. I closed my fingers together, as if I was about to shake someone’s hand, like Dad had done with Mrs. Omed, and pushed.



“Ohhoowwwwohhhhh,” Mom groaned.



I stopped but when Mom didn’t complain further, I pushed in again.



“Mmmmmm.”



Farther.



“Ohhhhh, God.”



Twist.



“Oh Jesus, oh God. Ted!”



At that moment I realized my thinking Mom was waiting for Dad was only an assumption. She might have been expecting a lover. So why did she suddenly freeze, her ass just starting to hump back for more? What was wrong? She had called Dad’s name. Was that a no-no in their game? I pulled my hand back a bit but then pushed immediately back in, twisting my hand to force her love tunnel open. Mom relaxed and her ass started squirming around my hand again. She must think she was forgiven.



I had a ball for half an hour after that. I worked and teased and bludgeoned Mom’s cunt with my fist. I alternately tickled and stroked her ass, back and neck, and grabbed her head forcefully, then leaned with my elbow across her lower back while I frigged her furiously with my whole hand. She went nuts. She was so desperately horny I wondered how long Dad had ignored her. She craved my hand, groaning and moaning, even wailing at the end, shouting her orgasm to the world as her pussy flooded its pent-up dam over my arm. In the end, I was leaning over a whimpering sack of quivering, moist flesh, my cock wavering hungrily above a trembling, oh so feminine ass.



I looked down at that gorgeous ass and thought, paraphrasing my father, I’m going to have me some of that.



I straddled Mom’s thighs and used my feet to push her legs together.



You can’t.



Ignoring my conscience, I leaned forward and pushed Mom’s nightie up her back, all the way to her neck. She moved her arms above her head in compliance and I shoved the nightie up her arms but left it covering her head. I placed my hand on Mom’s shoulders, paused for the briefest moment, then slipped them underneath her and grasped her tits.



What wonderful nipples! Long and hard. My fingers tweaked, rolled, pulled, stretched and tugged them this way and that. I was leaning so far forward, crouching over Mom, that my head was right above hers. I pushed myself lower and felt my cock slide between her cheeks until the tip fell between her legs, bumping against her lower lips.



I’m going to have me some of this.



I pushed into her lips.



No! She’s Mom!



But wouldn’t she expect Dad to fuck her? Wouldn’t it be a big put-down if he didn’t even want to fuck her? I had to…for Mom’s sake. I had to fuck her.



I pushed inside until Mom’s lips enveloped my helmet. Mom moaned at the same time as me. I started to shove it in farther, wanting to ram it all the way in to the hilt, but suddenly yanked it out instead. Mom groaned.



I leaned forward and my cock skidded up Mom’s crack. I pushed it between her cheeks and started moving. There was no finesse. I went wild. I’m sure it looked like a mad man had attached himself to Mom’s back. I humped and humped and humped. I can only thank the stars that I didn’t cry out or mumble sweet nothings to my beautiful mother. She was so awesome, and her ass cheeks felt so wonderful, but I wanted to be inside her pussy instead.



I probably didn’t last more than three or four minutes but the amount I unloaded onto Mom’s ass probably would have taken my father a month to produce. I sat up and slowly gouged my cock through her cheeks, wrenching every exquisite tingle from my sore cock. Exhausted, I sat still, astride my mother, looking down at the crevice between her cheeks, filled with my cum, and wondering what to do next.



Would I have to run away? Would she look before I got to the door?



Those thought yanked my mind from the heights of elation crashing down to harsh reality. Mom had been expecting Dad. I was lucky he hadn’t come home and found us but he could be here any minute! I had to get the fuck out.



I worked my way down Mom’s legs until I could step backward off the bed. As soon as I backed my way to the door, I fled to my room and burst inside, then belatedly grabbed my shorts from where they had landed in the hall. Thank God I didn’t forget them. I dressed quickly and climbed out the window, jumped off the garage roof, and ran to the front of the house, then to the neighbors in the direction Dad usually drove home. I had to head him off, let him know I was home so he wouldn’t try to take his afternooner with Mom. If he came in a second time, she would know something was wrong. I waited for hours but Dad didn’t come until dinner time.



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



I was afraid to go into the house but knew I had to. I half expected to be attacked as soon as I got in the door, sure that Mom knew it had to have been me when Dad made his excuse for not getting home in the afternoon. However, everything was fine. Mom treated me the way she always did but she was more attentive than usual with Dad. I thanked my lucky stars that Dad didn’t apologize about forgetting to come home and Mom didn’t mention his supposed visit. All I could do was hope they didn’t talk about it alone after they went to bed.



It eventually dawned on me that Mom was acting like any woman who had recently made love to her mate. She was softer, more feminine, and in a good mood, but Dad was his normal aloof self. His whole demeanor spoke volumes. This was simply where he ate and slept, but Mom acted as if something was different.



We were sitting in the living room, watching TV, when Mom asked Dad, “Are you coming home tomorrow afternoon?”



Every muscle in my body went rigid. This was it. Dad would say ‘yes’ and that he was sorry about not making it today. I got ready to make a run for it.



“No, maybe Thursday,” Dad replied off-handedly, looking like he didn’t want to be bothered.



Mom smiled and left it at that.



That night, I struggled with the fact that I had almost fucked my mother. The only saving grace was that, in the end, I had come to my senses. Still, I had spewed my spunk all over her ass and I couldn’t forgive myself completely, at least, not that easily. I swore that it would never happen again. I was lucky to have gotten away with it, and luckier still that I hadn’t actually gone all the way. I would take that luck to the bank and never be bad again.



Within the hour, my hand had found my cock and my mind filled with visions of Mom, blindfolded, waving her ass under my nose, begging to be taken.



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



I had been sitting in place for almost an hour before Mrs. Omed came to the back, got her coat, and returned into the store. I heard her saying goodbye to ‘Mr. Horlock’. Obviously, others were still in the store. Several more goodnights followed before the outer lights dimmed. Shit, they were all going home. I had hoped to see another session between Dad and Mrs. Omed. I thought maybe she might give him her ass tonight but she had been the first one to leave.



Footsteps and voices approached. The domineering was my father, the pleading one I didn’t recognize. Dad burst through the curtain and strode into his office, followed by a woman in maybe her late twenties. She was blonde, slim and attractive.



“Please, Mr. Horlock. I need this job.”



Dad had seated himself and was looking at some papers on his desk. He waved off-handedly at the young woman to signal he didn’t want to hear anymore.



“I don’t know why Mrs. Omed said that. I sometimes forget about the accessories but I know I can do better. I can sell more. Please, Mr. Horlock, my little boy…”



Ahhh, it was one of the single moms. Dad swiveled around in his chair.



“What about your son?”



The woman looked crestfallen, visibly shrinking in front of my father.



“He’s in little league now and I won’t be able to afford, I mean, if I lose my job, how will I be able to pay…”



Dad stood up.



“All right now.”



He put his arms around the sobbing woman and pulled her close, patting her on the back.



“Nobody’s going to lose their job…yet.”



The sniffling woman pulled her head back to look at my father.



“No?”



Dad pulled her close again. “No,” he said, patting her back.



The woman sobbed, then spread her arms and curled them around Dad in a big hug.



“Oh, Mr. Horlock, you don’t know how…”



Her voice abruptly cut off as Dad’s hands slid down from her shoulder blades to her waist and then farther, onto her supple buttocks.

“Mr. Horlock?”



“There, there. We’ll give you another chance.”



Dad’s hands clutched the woman’s cheeks.



“Mr. Horlock…”



Dad released the woman and sat down in his chair. He took her hands in his.



“Look, I know how important it is to provide a good home for your son, maybe even buy him extra things, so if your performance improves…”



Dad paused, looking up at the woman.



“Here, come down here where we can see each other eye to eye.”



Dad pulled on the woman’s hands and she fell to her knees on the carpet in front of him.



“That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh yes. If your performance improves to the point that I’m satisfied with it, you can keep your job, and I’ll even give you a little raise.”



Dad’s hands slid up the outside of the woman’s arms and onto her shoulders, then back down but this time he pushed them under her arms and held her sides, by her breasts.



“Mr. Horlock…”



“We’ll even start you off with a little bonus.”



Dad’s hands moved down to the woman’s waist, the back up along her sides.



“Mr. Horlock, I…”



“That’s much better than losing your job tonight, isn’t it?”



The woman didn’t answer. Dad moved his hands again, this time more slowly and suggestively, palms pressing in against the side of her breasts.



“Isn’t it?” he asked.



The woman said something but I couldn’t hear.



“What’s that?” Dad’s voice was more confident, demanding.



“Yes,” the woman replied meekly.



“Of course it is,” Dad said benevolently, moving his hands to the front of the woman’s dress.



She looked down and to the side while Dad rubbed his palms on the front of her dress. Despite the forward cant of her head, her blonde hair was long enough to remain hanging over her shoulder. Still, with her head to the side, I could see that she was pale with fine features, a delicate woman. She suddenly stiffened and I knew that Dad, keeping his palm pressed against the front of the dress, had closed his fingers to take in the full form of her breasts.



“Everything will be fine, Jennifer, you’ll see.”



Evidently satisfied with the way things were going and confident about where they were headed, Dad released Jennifer’s breasts and slid his hands around to the back of her neck. He fumbled with the hook for a few seconds and then slid the zipper down the back of her dress. Jennifer shivered as her back was exposed but didn’t interfere.



“You’re such a pretty girl. It’s a shame your husband was such a deadbeat, it really is, but you’re better off without him. Things don’t have to be so hard on you, you know, you don’t have to do it all on your own.”



While he was talking in his slithery voice, Dad unsnapped the back of Jennifer’s bra and pushed its straps and the dress down her arms to her elbows. She was very slender. He sat back and looked at the woman, who was still kneeling before him, face turned down and to her left, as if ashamed of her exposure and that she was allowing it to happen.



“That’s better. I’m sure things will start looking up from now on,” Dad smiled.



He put his finger under Jennifer’s chin, lifted her face and turned it toward him.



“Things are going to get better, aren’t they?”



“Yes,” Jennifer mumbled.



“Of course they are.”



Dad took Jennifer’s right hand and placed it on his pants, directly on the noticeable bulge there.



“Let’s see what kind of bonus you’re worth, shall we?”



Jennifer didn’t move.



“Well, get on with it.”



Jennifer jerked and pulled her hand away to cover her mouth, stifling a sob.



“Enough of that,” Dad barked. He unzipped his pants and pulled her hand back, stuffing it inside his zipper. “That’s it, don’t be afraid. Just wiggle your fingers a little.”



I couldn’t see if Jennifer complied with his demand because her head was in the way.



“Wiggle them!”



“Yeah, that’s it. See what you can do. He really likes it. Look how you’ve made him grow. Oh yeah, I can see you’ve got a talent for this. Ahhhhh, shit yeah.”



Jennifer moved her head and, from my vantage point in the loft above and slightly to the left behind Jennifer, I could now see her fingers moving inside Dad’s pants.



“You want to see it, don’t you?”



Dad didn’t wait for an answer.



“Take it out. Go ahead, you can look at it if you want.”



Jennifer shook her head.



“Take it out!”



Jennifer fumbled in Dad’s pants for a few seconds but finally managed to pull his cock out.



“There you go. Bet your loser husband didn’t have one like that, did he?”



Jennifer shook her head. Dad might be a braggart but he did have a decent sized cock. It pleased me to be a recipient of my father’s genes and, as disgusting as this scene was, I was fascinated by it and my father’s unrepentant exercise of power.



“Jack it,” Dad commanded.



Jennifer curled her delicate fingers around Dad’s shaft and hesitantly stroked it up and down.



“Grip it harder.”



“Move your hand all the way up and down.”



“Right over the head. That’s it. Squeeze it. Ahhhh, yeah. Keep doing it like that.”



Jennifer moved her hand up and down and Dad leaned back to enjoy it. After a while, he leaned forward and pawed her breasts. I could see his right hand cupping her left breast.



“You’re not very big. I bet you had nothing before you had a kid but they’re not too bad now. A little slopey, but you got nice nipples.”



He pinched her nipple and pulled her tit away from her chest.



“Do you like that?”



Jennifer shook her head but her hand never stopped moving.



“You know what they say about women with small tits?”



Jennifer shook her head again.



“They’re good cocksuckers,” Dad laughed loudly. He stopped laughing abruptly. “Are you a good cocksucker Jennifer?”



She shook her head.



“You mean to tell me that deadbeat husband of yours never made you suck his cock?”



Jennifer shook his head.



“What a wiener,” Dad laughed but abruptly became serious. “Get on it.”



Jennifer looked up at him.



“Come on, enough with the hand. Put your mouth on it.”



Jennifer kept looking up at Dad, unmoving, like a deer caught in head lights.



“Come on,” Dad urged, displacing her hand on his cock with his own and placing the other on top of her head.



He pulled her head forward and fed his cock into her mouth. Jennifer sputtered and Dad pulled his cock back.



“Too big?” Dad laughed. “That’s okay, you’ll get used to it.”



He jammed it back into Jennifer’s mouth but when she sputtered again he ignored her, knotted his fingers in the hair on top of her head and pulled her onto his cock. He didn’t stop until Jennifer choked and yanked her head back, gagging. Dad laughed and as soon as she stopped coughing, he jammed his cock back into her face.



“Deeper, come on, you can do it.”



Jennifer tried to grab Dad’s cock but he batted her hands away.



“Okay, we’ll work it in slowly.”



Dad grabbed both sides of Jennifer’s head and started flexing his hips, fucking into her face. She kept trying to pull her head back but couldn’t. Dad kept up a steady rhythm but didn’t go too deep and after a while until Jennifer seemed to relax. I guess she had learned to handle the assault, the brutal invasion of my father’s meat in her mouth. When she was taking his cock easily, he started pulling on her head and shoving it in deeper. Every few thrusts, Dad pulled out and let Jennifer clear her throat, but shoved his meat back into her mouth quicker each time.



I was amazed by how quickly Jennifer adapted to Dad’s cock plunging deep into her mouth. At first, she had barely been able to take his head in but now Dad was pulling her face all the way down to his balls and holding it there for a few seconds before releasing her and letting her head pop off his cock and then, right away, pulling her back onto it.



This went on for a while and I wondered when Dad was going to stand up and bend Jennifer over the desk like did to Mrs. Omed but when he started breathing harder and harder, I knew he wasn’t going to. He was going to unload on her face, the way Mrs. Omed wouldn’t let him. Sure enough, Dad suddenly held Jennifer’s head firmly in place and thrust frantically in her face. He was gasping and moaning really loud. He stood up in a half crouch and continued plunging into Jennifer’s upturned face.



Then he was yelling, making weird, primeval sounds, coming in her mouth, grabbing his cock and pulling it out, steering it around her face, covering her with his spunk. Only when the last drop dripped off his cock did he release her hair.



“Lick it clean,” he commanded.



Jennifer dutifully took Dad’s cock back into her mouth and sucked until he pulled it out, satisfied. He turned around, grabbed the roll of shop towels, tore off several sheets, and threw them at her.



“Clean yourself up.”



He stuffed his cock away and zipped up. Jennifer had stood and was getting some more shop towels, her dress sliding unnoticed over her slim hips and down her legs to the floor, revealing a pair of cheap cotton panties barely covering a nice, tight little butt. Dad admired her pear-like cheeks and patted the right one.



“I was right. You’re a great little cocksucker, Jennifer, and you’ve got a nice little ass to boot. Too bad you wore me out with your mouth. Look, here’s a hundred for you and another to get some extra babysitting for your kid. I want to see you tomorrow, no, make that Thursday. I’ll have a talk with Mrs. Omed tomorrow to straighten her out and let her know about your raise. Now, go pick out some nice under things from the store for yourself, and maybe a dress or two. Nothing too expensive, mind you.”



Dad stuffed the bills into Jennifer’s hand.



“Don’t worry kid. You got a job here for life it you keep that up.” He looked down her front. “And don’t forget the panties. Those things don’t do justice to what you got under there.”



Jennifer stooped to pick up her dress and pulled it up. She zipped up without putting the bra on, holding it in her hand with the money.



“Listen, honey. If you start having second thoughts, think about your kid and how you’ll get another job if I spread the word that you’re a little thief.”



Jennifer looked indignant and started to protest but was stopped by Dad’s sneering smile.



“It’s a tough world, kid. Run along home now and don’t be calling in sick tomorrow.”



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



My father had always been a tough employer but I had never known he was a real bastard. I mean, he was a real heel, a miserable fucking cunt. But, look at the awesome sex he got. The thought of what he was going to get on Thursday made my cock throb. I had come in my pants again and now, after a long shower, sitting in my room, I was hard again.



Tomorrow, Dad would be busy with Mrs. Omed, and Thursday it would be Jennifer’s turn again. I wanted to see that, but tomorrow, Mom would be waiting for Dad in the afternoon. Would he come? I had my doubts but I had to be sure. I called Jessica.



“Hey Jessica, how are you?”



“Yeah? That’s great.”



“No, I’m not coming back to work in the store. Dad and I still don’t see eye to eye.”



“Yeah, I know. Look, Mom’s planning a surprise for him later this week. No, don’t tell anyone at the store, but listen, can you let me know if he leaves tomorrow afternoon? She’s getting stuff ready and doesn’t want him to find out. You can? That’s great. Yeah, I’ll come down for a coffee soon.”



“You too. Bye.”



That was easy. Maybe I had more of Dad’s genes than I thought.



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



“I’m going out Mom. See you after supper,” I yelled.



Mom had dressed nicely again today and was super nice to Dad but he hadn’t noticed. I got the feeling that Mom thought he was just putting on an act because she seemed more pleased the more he ignored her. He was such a prick yet women fawned over him. I bet within weeks that Jennifer wouldn’t be moping about her situation. I bet she’d be leaning over Dad’s desk, eager for a pounding from behind. Dad had a way about him.



I dropped the car off and hurried home. In my room, I set my phone so I would vibrate if Jessica called, then undressed quickly, this time leaving my shorts on the bed with the rest of my clothes. Kneeling down by the floor, I listened for Mom’s telltale murmurs but all I could hear was the DVD playing in her room.



Excellent! Mom was already into it. I pushed the door open and crept stealthily down the hall, then peeked around the door jamb.



Mom wasn’t there!



Shit! I looked down the hall, listening for sounds coming from downstairs. Nothing. I looked back into Mom’s room and immediately jerked my head back because she was coming out of her bathroom, humming. I was about to sprint back to my room when I noticed her reflection in the mirrored closet doors with her back to me while she stood in front of the TV with the remote in her hand. She was changing the DVD.



Mom was wearing a sexy black camisole. While she waited for the DVD to start, she pushed the matching lacy black panties down her legs and kicked them off her feet. Man, the camisole only coming down to her waist really emphasized her ass! It was bigger than Jennifer’s but firmer than Mrs. Omed’s, and bare, completely bare.



I closed my eyes, trying to contain the excitement overcoming me. When I opened them, Mom was kneeling on the bed, placing a pillow in the middle. She pointed the remote and adjusted the sound, then leaned over the pillow to watch the porno flick on the TV.



I stood in the hallway for a long time, intently watching Mom’s ass as she watched the TV with equal concern. The man on the TV was treating a woman about Mrs. Omed’s age the same way Dad treated her and Jennifer. My cock surged as I realized that Mom must like the same kind of treatment.



Well, Dad wasn’t coming, was he?



This isn’t some woman working in the store, asshole. It’s your mother.



Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to do anything, not more than last time. I wasn’t going to do her. All I wanted to do was finger her, maybe put my whole hand up there. She loved the full thickness of my fingers, right up to the knuckles, last time. That’s all I was going to do, what she wanted, like I was performing a service she needed but couldn’t get from her deadbeat husband who should be doing it for her. Just because he’s an asshole doesn’t mean she should go without. I mean, look how happy she’d been the last two days. I wanted to make Mom happy; I had been making her happy.



Whoa. Mom was getting up on her knees. I got ready to retreat to my room. Ahhh, no problem. She was just putting on the blindfold which, I saw now, was actually a sleeping mask. Great. My cock tingled. We were getting close and it was very eager to get started.



Mom leaned over the pillow and squiggled around, getting comfortable. Her legs opened and I saw her pussy with its pink slit running down the middle. Oh, fuck this was going to be great. The dildo appeared and Mom fumbled with it for a few seconds, slowly inserting it in her pussy. In a moment, it was in and Mom started slowly humping it. We were away!



I forced myself to stay in the hall. I wanted to rush in and play with her ass and pussy but knew I had to wait until she was really horny. It was a long time before I heard the first sigh, the slightest whimper, and then the titilating, “Mmmmmm.”



It was incredibly hard to wait while those “Mmmmm’s” grew in length and frequency but I did it and was proud of my stoicism. When I was about to enter, I had a brilliant idea. I should go downstairs and open and close the front door to make it sound like Dad had come home. I crept downstairs, cock bouncing all over the place, and did it, then returned. Coming up the stairs, I cursed myself for being stupid. What if Mom had got up to greet Dad? I had only seen her wait for him once. What if that wasn’t routine?



Not too worry. When I peeked nervously into Mom’s room, her ass was worshipping the dildo and her blindfolded head was focused intently on the TV. I approached the bed, stood waiting for a minute, then kneeled on the mattress. Again, I waited, knowing Mom was aware of my, or so she thought, Dad’s, presence. Her ass had stopped humping the dildo and she was waiting.



I waited longer, controlling my breathing, and listening to Mom’s. She pulled the dildo out of her pussy and let it fall on the bed. Her ass pushed up, beckoning, her pussy pouting a warm welcome, waiting for the Thor’s hammer.



The anticipation in the room, on both our parts, was thick and heavy. Mom’s pussy lips moved as if she was breathing through them. She really wanted it, wanted my fingers, needed my hand. She was so fucking horny. Her thighs parted a fraction of an inch, opening her lips, moistly begging for my hand, my fingers, anything.



I kneeled closer, reached for Mom’s hands and crossed them behind her back, holding both slender wrists in my left hand. I lowered my right and lined it up between her thighs, being careful not to touch her legs, but I could tell she knew what was coming. Inch by inch, my fingers approached Mom’s slit. When they were almost there, I flicked the tip of my longest finger to brush Mom’s lips and she flinched, moaning. I teased her like that, adding a vertical exploration of her slit, for several minutes. When not relishing my power, I was mesmerized by the sight of her twitching ass, quivering thighs, and trembling pussy lips. I felt in total control.



With all that preparation I still took her by complete surprise when I plunged my fingers in deep. Mom yowled in delight and gasped and moaned constantly as I frigged her madly, jamming my fingers in her cunt hard and fast. She didn’t know what hit her but she rode it like the wind. Abruptly, I stopped, and pulled my dripping fingers out.



Oh, what a forlorn wail. It pulled my heartstrings and I almost relented, my fingers moving back toward her lips I pulled them away. I waited again, hovering near. Soon, my fingertips grazed up the inside of Mom’s thighs but skirted around her throbbing pussy and moved instead up onto her ass. I feathered all around her cheeks for several minutes before exploring her crack and then left her alone, even pulling my hand away from her wrists.



Mom could only know I was still there by my weight on the bed.



Suddenly, I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, then spit on the crinkly, penny-sized hole. Quickly, I squeezed her cheeks and rubbed them together, pulled them apart, spit again, then pinched them together for another rub. Releasing her cheeks, I dug my left thumb in and ran it up and down her crack, pausing to let it nudge into the little depression holding most of my spit.



When I looked at a girl’s ass, I just liked the look of it. I had no idea what the attraction was other than that but Dad had put ideas in my head. Why did he want to fuck Mrs. Omed’s ass? Did he have gay tendencies, and what about me? I had to admit, the idea was beginning to appeal to me, but not with Mom. I couldn’t do it with my own mother, but what about Mrs. Omed, or better, that lovely little set of pears on Jennifer?



My fingers found Mom’s pussy and pushed inside. First two, then three, and finally four. It took quite a while but eventually I squeezed my whole hand in, past the third set of knuckles, and slowly twisted it around and moved it back and forth. Mom was loving it. I leaned close over her ass and licked her crack. Mom tossed her ass around wildly. I licked her crack again, flicking the tip of my tongue all the way up. I had to lean on her to keep her close to the bed.



I tried to pull Mom’s cheeks apart but couldn’t with one hand so I pulled hers down, one at a time, and placed then on the sides of her cheeks. She got the idea and pulled them apart which let me spit on her crinkly asterisk and tease it with the tip of my tongue. It didn’t taste horrible like I thought it would so I pressed the flat of my tongue against it and wiggled it, then flicked it again with the tip.

I played around like that some time and neglected the hand in Mom’s pussy. No problem, she was fucking it, squirming her ass around on it, or was she trying to get more of my tongue. I pulled away and put my thumb on Mom’s little bud, then pressed. Slowly, it popped inside. Mom went absolutely still but when I pushed my thumb in to the hilt, she started wriggling around on it like mad. It was all I could do to keep my thumb plugged in her ass and my fist in her cunt. She was breathing so hard her lungs hoarsely gulped for air. It was a relief when she came, going rigid, clenching her butt cheeks and clamping her thighs around my hand, bucking so hard and fast I thought she was going catatonic.



I let Mom’s orgasm dissipate while her breathing returned to normal. The only thing I did, as a minor distraction, was to drool more spit along the crack of her ass. She didn’t seem to mind. Last time, I had rubbed my cock through her cheeks and come on her ass. I’m sure Mom thought I was preparing to do the same, and so did I. After all, what good would my cock do inside her after reaming it out with my whole hand?



I pushed her legs together and grabbed her hands, holding them behind her while I nudged my cock into her crack and started sliding it through her cheeks. Bless her heart, Mom moved her ass against my cock, rubbing her crack along the length of my shaft, or Dad’s shaft, as she thought. It was my turn.



I had only been rubbing for a few minutes, which wasn’t bad given how short my last sojourn had been, when Mom wriggled her right hand free of my grip and grabbed my cock. To my surprise, she angled it down. Frightened, I pulled back. If she brought it to her pussy lips, I didn’t know if I could stop myself.



What the hell? What was wrong with a little taste. In my current state, if Mom pressed my tip against her pussy, I would come instantly. I let her pull my cock forward and barely resisted when she pulled the head into her slit. Mom surprised me again when rubbed my tip around and then pulled my cock out, redirected it higher and settled it on her cheeks again. However, instead of slipping the shaft through her crack, she kept my cock pointed down and pulled it along until the tip nudged the pretty little asterisk I had kissed before.



Oh my God, she wanted it in the ass.



How could I refuse? Wouldn’t Dad do it? Of course he would; how could he turn down such a gift? I was trapped, but I was hardly unhappy about it. It wasn’t really sex, I told myself. I wasn’t putting it in my mother’s pussy. It was just her ass. Didn’t couples in those eastern countries do it that way before they were married? Of course it’s okay.



No Rob, it isn’t!



Fuck my conscience. It was faint anyway. I pushed, met resistance, leaned over and drooled onto my cock and watched it ooze down the shaft and between Mom’s cheeks, onto that pretty little rosebud. I pushed, was thrilled when Mom’s cheeks parted, widened, my helmet filling the reluctant little hole. Mom groaned but I kept pushing, it was going in, push harder, moving forward, so tight, so fucking tight. Plop, it was in. Mom twisted her head around, moaning, her hand pressing against my thigh. Yes, go slow. I understood.



Was this Mom’s first time?



I waited, holding my cock just inside Mom’s butt. And waited. She twitched her ass, then again, and again. She moved it, pushing back, forcing my cock deeper. I pushed in but her hand pressed against my thigh again. I held still until she started twisting around on my shaft again. I started moving in and out, real slow. Mom groaned and thrust her ass back on my hard cock. Oh yeah, this was going to be so good.



“Do you like it? I know you always wanted to, but does it feel good?”



I grunted for an answer and shoved in hard once, twice, three times.



“Unghhhh, unghhhh, ungnnnhhhh.”



That was answer enough. Mom turned her face into the pillow and I started fucking her ass for real. My cock moved easily between her cheeks which fascinated me. I grabbed the pillow under Mom and yanked it out, then slowly increased my pace, holding myself up on braced arms while I watched her creamy buttocks bouncing between the mattress and my cock.



Soon, we were at a frantic pace and I was blown away that I wasn’t yet ready to come. Abruptly, I stopped and smiled when Mom’s ass kept working on my shaft, reaching up and pulling down, fucking me, forcing me to take her ass, moaning and groaning, desperate for me to continue. Absolute joy ripped through me.



I bent my elbows and lowered myself until I was lying along the length of Mom’s body so she could hardly move, then pulled my cock out and slowly pushed it back in, deep, then ground it in her ass. Like before, I slowly built up my pace, but with glacial lunges deep into her ass. I licked her back between her shoulder blades, kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear, bit her shoulder, then pulled her head up and grunted in her ear while reveling in the guttural moan each thrust forced from her throat.



Once more, I took Mom up to a hammering pace, our bodies bouncing as one on the mattress, our groans intermingling and becoming lost in each other. When she started coming, when I started coming, I let her face fall into the bed and bit the nape of her neck again, grinding against her ass, filling it with my gooey spend.



I didn’t move for a long time. I stayed on Mom’s back, panting, my lips pressed into the join between her neck and shoulder while she breathed raggedly below me, her face turned once again toward the TV.



Mom didn’t move when I got up. I didn’t inch my way backward, ready to run, like I had before. I knew she wouldn’t try to look. I kissed each cheek and the bottom of each foot, then strolled out of her bedroom.



I felt no remorse this time. I had fucked my mother’s ass and, for the first time in a long time, I felt as if the world was as it should be. Mom was happy, I was happy, and I would be back for another afternooner and maybe even a night visit.



I didn’t bother waiting to head Dad off at the pass. I knew he wouldn’t come.



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



Mom was super attentive to Dad that night which irked me no end. It was I, not he, that deserved her appreciation. I sulked and had to suffer a comment or two from Mom about being sullen.



“There’s lots to be happy about in the world, you know, lots to appreciate,” she said.



That was rich coming from a depression Queen that owed her recent sparky return to life to my efforts. Nonetheless, I took it and made an effort to perk up. It wasn’t that hard, looking at Mom. She had dressed nicely again, for Dad of course, but I still got to look at her and be around her new, cheery self. There wasn’t a woman in the store that could hold a candle to her and yet my father couldn’t see it. He didn’t just take her for granted, he completely ignored her.



But I didn’t. I complimented Mom on her hair. Although it still didn’t even touch her neck, she had done it up in a cute cut. In fact, looking at her, I loved the way I could see all of her slender neck and bare shoulders. I hoped she wouldn’t grow it long again the way it used to be. I wanted to see as much of her beautiful skin as I could. Dad liked long hair and I decided then to convince Mom to keep hers short.



Surprisingly, Dad didn’t go back to the store that night, despite his commitment to discuss Jennifer’s situation with Mrs. Omed. I wondered what was up.



The next day I hung around the house. I waited to see if Mom thought Dad was coming home that afternoon but she didn’t say anything and after lunch she didn’t make excuses for taking a nap like she’d done before. Instead, she went out in the yard to garden.



Dad didn’t come home for dinner. The first I knew about it was when Mom put a plate in the oven to keep warm.



“Where’s Dad?”



“He’s working late again. He works so hard. I really think you should help him out at the store.”



“Mom, he doesn’t want my help. I just get in the way.”



“That’s not true. You’re a good worker. Your father told me so himself.”



“Yeah? What did he say?”



“He said…um…that you were a hard worker but he thought you should get some experience outside of the store. But your father works hard and I think he needs your help. He’s just too proud to ask for it.”



An idea struck me.



“Maybe I could go down on Thursday and Friday nights?”



“That would be a start.”



“Maybe Tuesdays too.”



“That’s the spirit.”



“And Saturday afternoons.”



“Don’t make fun of me, Robbie.”



“I’m not. I’m serious. I’ll start tonight since it’s Thursday.”



“It’s too late tonight. Start tomorrow instead. Maybe you can give your father a break so he can get home for a later dinner before going back until closing time.”



“Okay Mom, but I’ll just run down to see how things are going tonight.”



“If you insist, but eat up now before your dinner gets cold.



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



I sneaked back into the house after leaving that night, hopeful that Mom might get ready for another visit from Dad, but she was downstairs watching TV. Obviously, she didn’t expect him home. I sat around, being quiet as a mouse, but soon got bored. I thought about Dad, and then Jennifer, which motivated me to get off my ass. I drove down to the store, got into the back loft in the usual spot, and waited.



Dad came in ten minutes before closing time and sat at his desk. People came in and said goodnight but Dad ignored them, supposedly consumed by paperwork. Mrs. Omed came in with the cash box, set it on the desk and stood behind Dad. He ignored her also until she placed a hand on his shoulder.



“I’m leaving now, Mr. Horlock,” she said in a voice louder than her proximity required. “I’ve asked Jennifer to stay and lock up tonight.”



She leaned close to Dad’s ear and said something I couldn’t hear. He dropped his pencil and turned around, saw that they were alone, and patted her on her behind.



“Good girl,” he said in a confidential tone.



Mrs. Omed laughed softly. “Don’t work too hard,” she said, then turned and left, amusement filling her face.



The lights dimmed through the door and Jennifer parted the curtain a few seconds later. She was wearing a nice dress that looked new. It looked like the kind of thing sold in our store.



“Mr. Horlock? Everything’s locked up.”



Dad put on his ignoring act.



“I’ll be on my way then.”



Jennifer started to leave but Dad swiveled his chair around and the hope that briefly flashed on Jennifer’s face faded.



“Wait. No, don’t turn around. That’s a nice dress, Jennifer. It looks good on you.”



“Thank you, Mr. Horlock.”



Jennifer took a tentative step forward but stopped when Dad spoke again.



“Did you arrange for your babysitter to stay longer?”



Jennifer sighed. “Yes, Mr. Horlock.”



“That’s good, that’s very good. Come closer, girl. No, don’t turn around, just back up. That’s it…wait…just stand there for a minute.”



I could see embarrassment and even shame on Jennifer’s face as she stood in front of Dad, her back to him, as he surveyed her slender body. A strange mixture of sympathy and excitement flowed through me and my cock began to swell.



“A nice dress, that’s for sure, but it looks kind of long for you. Pull it up a bit.”



Jennifer didn’t move.



“Put your hands on the sides and slide it up your legs.”



Jennifer did as she was told this time, her face very red. She stopped when the dress was half way up her thighs but Dad urged her to pull it up higher. She stopped again when the hem was just below her ass.



“Pull it right up. Let’s see what kind of panties you picked out.”



Jennifer started to comply but then paused. Her face was red as a beet.



“Pull it up,” Dad snapped.



Jennifer took a deep breath and slid the dress up over her hips until it bunched at her waist. I could see a nice pair of red lace panties. My cock bulged in my shorts so I loosened the top button and carefully parted the zipper.



“Yeah, those are nice. I didn’t know we had such nice ones in the store. I’ll have to commend Mrs. Omed. Speaking of her, I hope she’s been nicer to you today.”



Jennifer mumbled something.



“What’s that? Speak up.”



“Yes.”



“Good, good. Back up. All the way back.”



Dad’s hands rose from the arms of his chair and disappeared behind Jennifer. I could tell from her face he was touching her panties and then massaging her cheeks as she lurched forward a bit. Dad reached between Jennifer’s legs to catch her, his fingers folding around to cup the front of her panties.



“Yeah, nice, real nice.”



Dad ‘s hands returned to his lap and undid his belt. He parted his trousers and pulled his cock, already hard, out of his underwear.



“Pull them down.”



“What?”



“Pull them down. They belong to me, not you.”



Reluctantly, Jennifer pushed the red panties down until her ass was exposed. The panties stretched across her thighs, exposing a nice patch of pubic hair that was darker than the hair on her head but still blonde. Dad reached behind him and grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the top of his desk and squirted an oily liquid on his cock. As he rubbed it in with one hand, he reached out with the other to poke at the bottom of Jennifer’s ass.



“You’ll need to trim that bush for me. Come closer.”



Jennifer backed up but she could only go a half step before unexpectedly banging into Dad’s chair. She lost her balance but Dad caught her, his hands grasping her waist under the dress.



“Can you feel that?” he asked.



Jennifer didn’t answer. Her hands were trying to find the arms of Dad’s chair so she could push herself back up but Dad held her firmly in place.



“I knew you’d be a little dry the first time,” he said, “but next time you won’t be, I promise.”



Jennifer struggled but Dad steered her onto his cock. Her mouth opened the moment he began to penetrate her.



“Yeah, you’re not used to that, are you?”



Jennifer’s mouth remained open as Dad pulled her down until she was nestled in his lap.



“Do you like a big one, little girl? Huh?”



Dad was already moving inside her and Jennifer’s face twisted in and out of several emotions as she tried to accommodate his big cock.



“Oh yeah. She likes that, doesn’t she?” he talked to himself for her benefit.



Jennifer, slight as she was, was easily bounced up and down on Dad’s lap as he both thrust and pulled her down on his meat.



“Oh yeah, we’ve got a convert now, don’t we?”



Dad’s hands slipped off of Jennifer’s waist and grabbed her hands. Leaning forward, he half dumped her onto the floor but kept her from falling completely off the chair. Despite her awkward and uncomfortable position, he began fucking her hard, causing her whole upper body to flap around above the floor. I couldn’t see the look on Jennifer’s face because her long hair had fallen over her head.



Dad was banging her so hard Jennifer’s head came into contact with the floor despite the firm grip me maintained on her arms, stretched behind her back. Seeing this, he leaned further forward and started banging her even harder, forcing her forehead to skid across the plastic carpet protector.



“It really fills a skinny little thing like you, doesn’t it?”



Dad stood up and pulled Jennifer’s head off the floor but kept her doubled over. He arched his back and wiggled his hips from side to side, digging his cock as deep as her could into Jennifer’s cunt. Leaning over her, he grasped a handful of her hair and tugged her head up, then started fucking her hard again.



“Do you like that? Huh? Huh?”



Jennifer was too far gone to answer. I had thought she might be in pain, that she was struggling to bear this gross assault, but her face, exposed when Dad pulled her head up, was consumed with raw ecstasy. I was stunned. She did like it. In fact, from the look on her face, twisted up like it was with her mouth wide open, she absolutely loved it, I guessed because she hadn’t had a big cock before and it really must feel different.



Dad stopped suddenly and spun Jennifer around to face the desk, his pants sliding down and puddling around his ankles. He pushed her onto the chair on her knees until the chair leaned back toward the desk. When it went over far enough, the legs kicked out and the chair started to skid out from the desk. Jennifer cried out but the chair quickly stopped. Dad had tied it to the inner legs of the desk, just inside each set of drawers, halting its fall.



Jennifer was now on her knees, leaning over the back of the chair and pushed half over the desk. Dad straddled the chair and stepped up behind Jennifer, put his hand around the back of her neck, and pushed her head onto the desk. As her ass lifted, Dad ducked, used his cock to scout for her hole, and shoved it in. Jennifer tried to lift her head but couldn’t.



A very steady fuck followed. If any cops were on the beat walking the alley, they would have knocked on the front door to see what was going on. But there were no interruptions. Dad’s pelvis noisily slapped against Jennifer’s ass, adding to the din. My hand found my own cock and started stroking it in time with Dad’s thrusts and Jennifer’s moans. Yes, she was actually moaning. About half way through the pounding, she became quite vocal.



When Dad increased the fury of his attack, grabbing Jennifer’s hair and pulling her up until her back was arched and her neck kinked with each forward lunge, she got even louder. She was loving it and it seemed clear that Jennifer had never been fucked like this, fucked hard and well. When Dad released her hair and grabbed her waist to hold her cunt in place for the final ravaging, Jennifer braced her hands on the desk and kept her torso lifted with her head thrown back.



When she came, you would have thought an animal was being gutted, it was so primordial. She slumped over but Dad lifted her and, with her body still perched on his cock, backed away from the chair and set her down on her feet. As soon as he turned her around she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Grasping her under the thighs, Dad lifted Jennifer and she squirmed around until she found and slid down over his cock, impaling herself.



“Ahhh Jenny, you’re a good girl. Did you like that?”



Jennifer’s head, buried in the nape of Dad’s neck, nodded.



“If I was a younger man, I’d give you another go, but you’ll have to wait lassie.”



Dad reached around to cup Jennifer’s ass. Immediately thereafter her head jerked up, mouth open in a silent wail.



“It’s okay darlin’, it’s just a little finger is all. Nothing to worry about.”



Dad’s wrist wriggled and I knew he’d stuck a finger in Jennifer’s ass.



“Just something to think about for next time,” Dad said.



Jennifer buried her head back in Dad’s shoulder and shook it. She said something but I couldn’t make it out.



Dad laughed.



“Well, you probably didn’t think getting fucked was going to be any fun either.”



Jennifer mumbled again.



“Too big?” Dad laughed again. “You’d be surprised what you can take in there. Don’t worry about it now. I wouldn’t hurt you.”



Dad lifted Jennifer off his cock and set her down on the floor.



“Go pick out a new dress for yourself.”



Jennifer started to pick up her clothes but Dad stopped her.



“In the nude girl. I want to see you wandering out there butt-naked.”



Jennifer scooted out of the office and into the store and Dad followed after pulling his pants up.



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



Friday night at supper, I made sure Mom knew I was going down to help Dad at the store. I asked if she wanted me to take him some dinner but she declined, saying I should tell him to nip home for a good hot meal.



By the time I was ready to leave, Mom had turned out the living room lights. Seeing my expression, she explained that she was going upstairs to read until Dad came home. Mom’s face seemed a little flushed and her breath a little short. She was excited, and that excited me because I knew my ploy had worked. With me at the store, Mom thought Dad would come home for a session. Fantastic! Damn right he would.

I parked the car in the usual place, waited half an hour, and then made my way back to the house. In my room, I undressed and listened at the door, hardening the instant I heard a porno clip playing on Mom’s TV. I crept into the hall, stark naked, and made my way down to Mom’s room. I peeked in.



She was lying on the bed but not on a pillow. She was wearing a black, lacy camisole bunched up on her waist and nothing else. Each time her ass raised up, her bare pussy flashed into view, plugged full of her own fingers. From the sound of her breathing, I knew she was already ready for my entrance. Had I waited long enough for Dad to get home? I wasn’t sure but then realized that Mom probably didn’t know how much time had passed either.



Quietly, I retreated down the stairs where I opened and closed the door. I clumped upstairs and walked into Mom’s room. Her ass started wriggling on her fingers faster as soon as I stopped at the end of the bed. Seeking perfect realism, I spotted some of Dad’s clothes on a chair by his side of the bed, picked them up, and dropped each piece on the floor, one by one.



I loved waiting and watching her anticipation. The way she squirmed around, opening and closing her pussy lips, was almost enough to make me come. Fuck, she was hot. I pressed my knee onto the bed to let her know I was coming but instead of getting fully aboard, I bent her leg and started licking the bottom of her foot.



“Mmmm, yesss,” Mom cried.



I flicked my tongue along the crease at the bottom of her toes and dragged it between each pair of toes in turn. After that, I chewed on the edge of her sole, nipped her heel and pinched the Achilles tendon between my teeth. I gave the same treatment to Mom’s other foot while lightly stroking the calf of the first leg. When I was done, I bent both knees until Mom’s curled feet were almost touching her ass above her widespread thighs. I kneeled behind her and found her waiting cunt, pushing immediately into her wetness with three fingers.



“Oh my God,” Mom hissed. “Don’t tease, just fuck me.”



I was some taken aback, I can tell you. Mom lifted her ass and swirled it teasingly around in front of my face. What an invitation.



Don’t you even think about it.



“Please baby. Just fuck me.”



Mom’s ass yawed in front of me. She lifted it really high. What to do?



I leaned forward and pushed my flat tongue onto her pussy. Mom lurched ahead and then quickly back.



“Ohhh baby, it’s been so long since you did that.”



I pulled back, rose up on my knees, and reached over her back to grab her head and, turning it, pushed her face down into the bed. It was a signal that her familiar talk was ruining the game. If I allowed Mom to talk too much, she would soon expect a response, and then the game would really be up.



I returned to her pussy and gobbled her lower lips into mine, sliced my tongue through her slit, and started lapping. My finger found her mons and began rubbing across it, occasionally curling down to flick her clit.



I took Mom through two orgasms before grabbing my cock and pressing it between her cheeks but she blocked me, putting her hands across her ass to cover the little hole. I pushed them aside but they quickly returned. Mom mumbled into the mattress. I couldn’t understand her so I twisted her head until her mouth was clear.



“Sore,” was all she said



What the fuck could I do now?



You can’t fuck her.



Oh, go fuck yourself, conscience.



You can’t!



I know, I know.



I looked at Mom’s gorgeous, pouting, puffy, wet pussy, waiting for me to enter it. Oh my fucking God, give me strength. I kneeled my way back, away from temptation, grabbed Mom’s legs and pulled them straight to make her pussy fall onto the bed. For extra measure, I pushed her legs closed.



Whew! That was a close call. But what to do now? Mom expected Dad to fuck her. I couldn’t leave her getting turned down like that, I had to do something he might want more.



On her face! Dad liked to spew his spunk on a woman’s face. Mom must know that.



I grabbed Mom’s legs and yanked her lower on the bed, then pulled her feet around to the side. There, I twisted her feet until Mom rolled over onto her back, then walked around to the other side of the bed behind her head. I grabbed her arms and positioned her to get her neck on the edge with her head tipping just over. Mom smiled. She knew what was coming.



The sleeping mask had ridden up on Mom’s face but not enough so she could see under it. Mom raised her hand and pulled it back into place and I realized how close I had come to total disaster. I sighed in relief and Mom smiled again, reading the sound as eager anticipation. She opened her mouth.



And I filled it.



I should have known, should have prepared myself: the sensations almost knocked me off my feet. I would have fallen had my knees not hit the edge of the bed. As it was, my cock simply slid deep into Mom’s mouth on the first thrust whereas I had meant to introduce myself gently. After regaining my balance, I pulled back and barely stopped myself from saying, ‘sorry.’



I gently massaged Mom’s throat, worried I might have hurt her but she took hold of my rod in her delicate fingers and pulled me deep into her mouth, right to the back, and into her throat. I groaned as I both saw and felt my cock in Mom’s throat. It was the strangest and most exciting feeling I had ever experienced. Mom tilted her head further over the edge of the bed, straightening her neck and making the presence of my shaft more obvious.



When I noticed Mom struggling to breathe through her nose, I pulled back, to a popping sound followed by a rush of air as Mom inhaled. I waited until she tugged on my cock before pushing it back in and thought I had reached the pinnacle of bliss when the fingernails of her other hand scratched my balls, sending me even higher. And then she inserted a fingertip into my ass!



What followed was the first, and of course, best blowjob of my life. I kept sliding in and out of Mom’s mouth, slow and deep, and never shoved it in roughly like Dad had down to Mrs. Omed and Jennifer. The very thought of abusing Mom like that turned me off. She was awarding this tremendous gift, unknowingly to me rather than Dad, so how could anyone even contemplate mistreating her?



Somewhere along the line, I pulled the camisole up and grabbed Mom’s tits, massaging the meaty swells and tweaking her nipples, flicking them with my fingers, pinching and rolling them, pulling, then finally leaning over to suck them into my mouth. The whole time, Mom’s finger wiggled, paused, then wiggled again.



When I came, I didn’t pull my cock out to spew all over Mom’s face like I knew Dad would. I kept it firmly plugged into Mom’s mouth and watched her throat swell and contract repeatedly as she took every spurt.



I hated to go when I was done but knew I had to. I wanted to lie down on the bed and wrap my arms around her. As I dressed in my room an emptiness came over me. Yes, it was exciting to shove my whole hand up Mom’s pussy; yes, it was incredible to take her ass; and yes, it was mind-blowing to blow my wad down her throat; but what I wanted to do right then was kiss her and hold her in my arms.



Crawling out the window, it struck me that I really loved my mother and always had. I had simply discovered a new aspect of her, one that I wanted to have all to myself. As I walked back to the car, dark thoughts filled my mind, about my father.



I didn’t want anything to do with the prick anymore. He was a selfish asshole and I didn’t want to be anything like him. Why had I done that to Mom? Why had I fisted her, taken her in the ass? Pounded her throat? Why?



I thought about Mom until I fell asleep but didn’t masturbate. Instead, I cried, ashamed of myself.



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



As usual, Mom was super attentive to Dad the next morning while treating me the same as usual. I was jealous. It was me who was the architect of her newfound zest for life, so it should be me she was dressing for, me who should be the target of her perfume, and me who should be the reason she spent so much time in the bathroom doing her make-up and softening her skin in a bubble bath.



Dad didn’t even notice the extra work she put into his breakfast and dinners and the sad part was that he wasn’t acting, he simply didn’t notice, yet I’m sure Mom thought it was all part of their strange sexual game. He had neglected her for so long she was desperate for his attention. What Dad had said to Mrs. Omed was probably true, that Mom was too straight to satisfy him in the sack, but that was years ago and now, after years of being discounted, she would do anything for him in bed, or out. She needed to be loved.



That thought triggered a startling realization. I knew that Mom thought it was Dad participating in the mystery visitor game but what I hadn’t known until now was that it had just begun, otherwise Dad would know how much she was willing to do, or take.



The game had to stop. Even if Mom didn’t find out the truth about me, she would learn the truth about Dad: he hadn’t rediscovered his love for her as she thought; she would just be another receptacle for him to use. And I didn’t want him using her. After seeing him with two women, I don’t think it was in my father to love a woman. Want one, yes, but not love. I had to do something to protect Mom, to shield her from this inevitable discovery.



My mind was dwelling on what I could possibly do when I noticed Mom looking at me strangely during lunch. She appeared to be avoiding making eye contact with me but when she didn’t know I was aware she peered at me with an odd expression on her face. I first noticed this when I saw Mom’s reflection in the glass door on the china cabinet but it happened several more times that afternoon. It was very disconcerting.



What had happened between breakfast and lunch to cause this strange attention?



Dad came home for dinner, which was unusual for him on a Friday night. We ate dinner in silence and I had the distinct feeling that Mom was looking at me every time I looked down at my plate. I looked down often to avoid making uncomfortable eye contact. After dinner, I excused myself and went upstairs but I crept down the hall and laid on the carpet near the top of the stairs, like I had done when I was a kid to listen to my parents discussing my report cards.



“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”



“Oh, nothing. Something came up this morning that worried me but it’s nothing, just silly woman stuff. Don’t worry about it.”



“Damn it, Lisa. I’m busy down at the store. You made this sound so important, that’s why I came home for dinner.”



“I know dear, but I, you know, it’s nothing really. I just was worried, that’s all.”



“Well what was it, for Christ’s sake? I’m here now.”



“Well…”



“Come on, spit it out.”



“Well, I was talking to Alice, and she said she was at the store last night…”



My heart sank into my stomach, even lying down. This was it. I wanted to get up and run but I couldn’t tear myself away from the terrible scene below, the one that would write my epitaph.



“Well, Robbie told me he was going to help you down at the store starting tonight…”



“I don’t need his help. His heart isn’t in it and that’s not good for the staff to see.”



“Well, anyway, I thought it might be nice, you’re working so hard lately and all, so…”



“That’s right. I am busy and I don’t have time to find things for Robbie to do.”



I sighed in relief. This was all it was about? Of course Dad didn’t want me around. It was too bad Mom found that out before I got started with my new helping act but it wasn’t really a problem, it just spelled the end of my planned game nights and afternoons. The decision to quit had been made for me now, and I felt kind of relieved. No more taking advantage of Mom.



“I see. Alright, well, I just thought it would be nice…”



“Yes, yes, but what the hell has this got to do with Alice?”



“Oh, well Robbie told me he was going down to the store last night but I was talking to Alice this morning…”



Dad silently interrupted Mom, waving his hand in a rolling circle, indicating she should get on with it. I didn’t like the sound of this. My heart began descending into the pit of my stomach again.



“…so Alice said she was in the store last night and Robbie wasn’t there.”



Dad looked exasperated. “So? Maybe he changed his mind and went out with his friends.”



“Well, Alice said you were there.” Mom sounded very troubled. Her voice even cracked as she said this but Dad didn’t notice. In fairness, why should Alice’s discovery of him in the store be important?



“Yes, I saw her but I didn’t have time to talk with her. Is that what this is about, I didn’t have time to talk with one of your friends?” Dad held his hands out in a ‘so what’ expression. “That’s it. Alice didn’t see Robbie but she saw me and I didn’t talk with her? Woopdie do.”



Mom shrugged.



“Another thing, Lisa. Rob is eighteen. You should stop calling him Robbie. He’s almost a man and he can go out at nights without telling his Mommy where he’s going. He was probably just having a beer with his friends and told you he was going to the store so you wouldn’t question him. Jesus.”



Dad got up.



“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll be later because of this.”



“I’m sorry dear. I guess it just rattled me because…because Robbie lied to me.”



“Don’t be hard on the boy. It was just a little lie, Lisa.”



“I suppose so.”



Dad gave Mom a peck on the cheek. “Don’t wait up for me.”



“I won’t dear.”



Dad left and I worked my way back to my room.



Shit, shit and double shit!



Dad didn’t have a clue what was going on but Mom must now suspect me, otherwise why would her voice have cracked like that? Wait, just wait. Of course she’s upset. Someone had been fucking her, someone pretending to be Dad, but why should that mean it was me? Why would she suspect her own son, for fuck’s sake?



Because you said you’d be out, and she knows that at least one time, you lied about it.



Well, yeah. But if it doesn’t happen again, then there’s no proof. And anyway, Dad supplied the answer for me. I’ll just admit I went out to drink with my friends.



Right.



That’s it then.



Finally, you’ve come to your senses.



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



It’s hard to believe I had come so close to discovery but gotten away with it. For the next week I thanked my lucky stars. I didn’t even go down to the store to watch Dad with Mrs. Omed or Jennifer. Partly, I didn’t want to get caught and partly I just wasn’t interested in watching Dad abuse women that way, whether they seemed to like it or not. I thought I wanted was disgusting to force a woman to do one’s will.



By the second week, I wasn’t so pleased. I was sure Mom suspected me. She kept looking at me with that weird expression on her face. I had become adept at catching her looking at me in various reflective surfaces about the house. The strange thing was, even though Mom knew Dad wasn’t visiting her and really was ignoring like always, she continued to dress nicely and do her make-up. That was a plus anyway; Mom seemed to have been permanently lifted from her depression. Maybe it had all been worth it after all.



But the strange looks continued but one day I caught Mom looking with a different expression on her face. It was softer and no longer angry, more curious than horrified, and I found that more disconcerting. What did it mean?



Despite Mom’s continued care with her appearance, I had been careful not to compliment her or even mention anything about the way she dressed or looked. Mom must have missed it because she began specifically asking me about this or that piece of clothing, which shoes I thought would go better with a certain dress, whether her lipstick was the right color, and whether or not I liked her hair which had now grown almost long enough to touch her shoulders. Mom was continually drawing my attention to her and, though it made me nervous at first, I grew to like it. Soon, I was making unsolicited complimentary remarks about Mom’s appearance. One day, while we were sitting on the couch waiting for Dad to come home for supper, I complimented Mom on her new shoes.



“You always did notice my feet, even when you were little.”



The comment startled me so I queried her for more detail.



“I always liked your feet?”



“Yes,” Mom laughed. “When you were little, you used to play with them.”



“I did?”



“Yes. First you were fascinated that I painted my toenails and you wanted to have yours painted too. You were quite particular about the colors. Don’t you remember me telling you not to let your Dad see?”



I shook my head.



“Then you just liked to play with my feet. You would rub them for ages.”



I thought about how I had kissed Mom’s toes and licked the bottom of her soles. Had I given myself away somehow even before Alice visited the store? Had Mom sent Alice to the store to see if I was there, looking for corroboration of already developed suspicions? Was she trying to trap me now?



“I don’t remember that Mom.”



Mom stretched her leg out toward me and put her foot on the couch.



“Tell me if you like the color.”



I looked at Mom’s blue shoe.



“Yeah, it’s okay.”



“Not the shoe, silly. My toenails.”



“I can’t see them.”



“Well, take my shoe off.”



Mom wiggled her foot.



Reluctantly, afraid of somehow giving myself away, I pulled the shoe off Mom’s foot. Her toenails were painted a color somewhere between orange and red.



“No, I don’t like the color.”



Mom looked disappointed.



“Really? That was your favorite color when you were little.”



Just then, Dad’s car pulled into the driveway and Mom pulled her foot away. She leaned down and put the shoe back on her foot before getting up to greet Dad at the door.



Nothing else was said that day about Mom’s toenails but I couldn’t stop thinking about it and wondering why she had brought up the subject of me liking her feet when I was a kid. It was weird and it made me nervous.



I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. I had been deathly afraid if Mom’s suspicions were confirmed in her mind that I would be kicked out of the house and be disowned. Now, I was scared that her suspicions had been confirmed and nothing bad was going to happen to me, and that Mom might in fact have been flattered if not pleased by the attention. Could this be?



Although the prospect of Mom being pleased had its obvious rewards, it was scary new territory. It was one thing to sneak up on Mom from behind under the protection of anonymity, but quite another to look her honestly in the face with my desires.



I managed to get to sleep but only after convincing myself that Mom had only been regarding me with strange looks because I had been complimenting her and had then ceased. She probably believed, I reasoned, that I had noticed her buoyant mood, revived looks, and renewed attention to Dad, without observing anything that would motivate such a change. Therefore, I must suspect her of having an affair. In fact, hadn’t I provide opportunities by making it clear, perhaps overly so, that I would be gone for hours on end in the afternoons and evenings? Maybe Mom thought I was spying on her to confirm my own suspicions and had in fact witnessed a visit by her mysterious lover. Maybe she even thought I was jealous.



That was it. My near incestuous, at least technically in my mind, indiscretion was still undiscovered. I was safe.



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



Mom went shopping the next day and came home with a ton of stuff including skirts, blouses, dresses, pants, shoes, and under things. I thought she was being kind of obvious but then, given Dad and I didn’t get along, and the fact that I hadn’t said anything, why should she worry?

Mom went upstairs with most of her stuff and had a long bath, then called me to ask if I could bring up some bags she had forgotten to take upstairs. When I entered her bedroom, she was sitting on her bed, wearing a terry cloth robe, and had her feet on a towel spread over the covers with spacers between her toes, ready to do her toenails.



“Oh, thanks Rob. Hey while you’re here, help me pick out a nice color for my toes.”



I was stuck. Mom showed me several colors and asked me to pick one. Then, she asked me to stay until it dried a bit to make sure it still looked good. So I sat on the bed and watched Mom paint her toes and looked at her legs which looked so fine fresh out of a hot bath. I kept wondering if she was wearing anything under the fluffy robe and became convinced she wasn’t. I wondered if Mom had brought up the whole feet thing because she wanted to reward me for not spilling the beans on her and what she would think of it if she knew I was thinking about her being naked under her robe.



Although Mom did a perfect job on the first foot, she insisted she had made a mess of it and asked me to do the other one. Although the terry cloth robe was clasped demurely about Mom’s knees, it gapped open under her thighs and I was treated to a wonderful vista for about ten minutes, not to mention the perfumed scent of her freshly washed skin. I found myself wondering how I could reinitiate our afternoon adventures rather than being thankful that they had stopped without me getting caught. Not only did I get a boner, my skin tingled now that I was convinced Mom was naked under a robe in such close proximity to me.



Mom’s new blouses were form fitting affairs that were conservative in style but emphasized the feminine nature of her figure. The skirt she put on was heavily pleated and accented the sway of her hips when she walked. The outfit personified muted sexuality.



It was a Friday night and Dad was only home for a quick dinner. Despite that, I finished eating first and excused myself before heading for my room. I hadn’t quite got to the top of the stairs when I heard Mom asking Dad, rather loudly, if he was coming home early.



“No, we need to start the inventory early so I’ll actually be quite late tonight.”



Yeah right, I thought. Is it Mrs. Omed or Jennifer, or have you started on someone new already?



“You’re sure?” Mom asked. “I went shopping today was going to give you a fashion show.”



Mom knew this would irk Dad because he always wanted her to get her clothes from the store where they could be purchased wholesale but Mom insisted on patronizing other stores with the excuse that would encourage them to reciprocate. The truth was, Mom didn’t like the clothes in our store.



Dad held himself in check and answered in an even tone, “I’m sorry sweetheart, but the inventory has to get done.”



“That’s alright, I understand.”



I had the distinct impression that the whole query had been for my benefit, that Mom was sending a signal to me that she wanted to be alone tonight, and this was confirmed by Mom’s first question after I came back downstairs. She was sitting on the couch watching TV and I sat in Dad’s chair to watch too. For some reason, teenaged rebelliousness no doubt, I wanted to make her specifically ask for time to indulge her dalliance.



“Are you going out tonight, Rob?”



That was another thing. Mom never called me ‘Robbie’ anymore, it was always ‘Rob’ now.



“Uh, I’m not sure. Why?”



“I was just wondering.” There was a long pause, then Mom added, “I think your father might be coming home early so we can spend some time together.” Mom kept her gaze fixed on the TV.



“Oh.”



Even without overhearing her earlier conversation with Dad, I would have been able to tell Mom was lying. I didn’t say anything more because I was thinking about how lousy Mom was at having an affair and she spoke before I could respond.



“I guess you can have the TV then because I think I’ll go upstairs and read until your father comes home.”



Mom got up and handed me the remote, then started for the stairs.



“Mom?”



“Yes?” She turned around.



“I think maybe I will go out. Do you mind?”



Mom smiled. “No, not at all. Will you be late?”



“Yeah, I think so.”



“Okay dear. Then I’ll see you in the morning.”



Mom came back and leaned over to give me a kiss on the forehead and I started to react the instant her jostling blouse hung in front of my face. I turned the TV off before Mom got to the top of the stairs so Mom would know I was leaving right away. I left shortly after and drove to my usual parking spot but sat there for almost an hour, thinking.



So Mom had figured out that Dad wasn’t her surprise lover but she didn’t know who it really was. How could she? Yet, she was still willing, even eager, to experience another visit. How did she know ‘he’ would come tonight? Did she suspect another merchant that knew her and Dad, or at least, someone who worked downtown and would know when Dad was working? It couldn’t be someone from the store because Dad was the only male there but maybe it was someone’s husband. Sure, maybe she knew about Dad’s indiscretions and thought an injured husband was getting back at him.



I was quite eager when I crawled through my bedroom window and stripped off my clothes. I was now confident that I wasn’t under suspicion. The hallway was dark and the downstairs lights were off too. Mom must have gone down after I left and turned them off. I crept down the hall and listened at Mom’s open door. There were no “Mmmmm’s” or DVD porno sounds coming from Mom’s bedroom, only some softly playing classical music. The main light was turned off and the room was lit by the light of a single bedside lamp. Mom was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, dressed in the white terry cloth robe she had worn that afternoon while doing her toenails.



Mom was lying on her back! No camisole and half spread legs, no upturned, ready-for-action ass? She looked like she was ready to confront her secret lover, face to face. I peeked into the room again. Mom looked like she was actually sleeping. Ahhh, she was wearing the sleep mask. That was a good sign. Maybe she wasn’t intending to confront her lover, but was it enough to gamble everything on?



Part of my mind told me to run back to my room but another part, driven by a far less rational engine, told me to get in there and give my mother, the woman I loved, what she needed and deserved.



I chickened out.



That’s why I was so startled when my feet carried me into Mom’s room while my mind was still telling me to run the whole time I came closer and closer to Mom’s bed.



Her toes. I think that’s what made me stay. Mom’s legs, from the knees down anyway, looked like they had been lightly oiled and her toes glistened with a glossy black coating. I stood there, stark naked with my cock already hard and sticking out, and stared at Mom. If I was wrong, the sleeping mask could be swept up on her forehead before I could move a muscle and I would be doomed.



I stepped close to the bed and tentatively touched Mom’s toes. She barely flinched so I knew she was expecting someone, but who? The only way for her to know was to remove the mask. Or was it?



Mom might want sex regardless of who was here and she actually prefer not to know who it was. Maybe she was lying on her back simply because she was tired of taking it from behind, or didn’t want to get it in the ass.



I grazed my fingertips down from Mom`s toes along the top of each foot, around her ankles to the side of her inner heels, and scratched up the center of her soles. I was pleased when Mom turned her feet outward to make it easier for me to touch the bottom of her feet and wiggled to settle herself deeper in the mattress. She gave no indication that she wanted to remove her mask.



I tickled Mom`s feet for a while, then moved up to caress her lower legs. When it was time to move above her knees I thought about opening her legs to make room for me to climb on the bed but changed my mind and crawled up with my knees straddling her legs. Parting Mom’s legs would be an overtly sexual act and I wanted to maintain an air of innocence for a while for the benefit of my blindfolded mother. I was learning that anticipation was a large part of sexual enjoyment, something I don’t think my father yet knew.



I fluttered my fingers over Mom’s lower thighs as delicately as I could. As I moved higher, the front of the robe parted, exposing more and more of her upper legs. When I reached the thicker part of Mom’s thighs, my fingers couldn’t progress but Mom smiled and opened her legs enough to allow access. I pushed my open hands between Mom’s legs, caressing the softest skin on her body. Sensing the heat from her nearby pussy, my cock hardened into steel and the tip fluttered with sensations as if I was touching it instead of Mom’s inner thighs.



Mom wasn’t wearing any panties and I noticed that her pussy had been completely shaved. I reversed my hands and grazed the top of my fingernails near the sides of Mom’s bald pussy and then traced the crease leading to her hips, pushing the robe apart before me. The robe was hindered by the belt so I undid the knot holding it and parted the robe to reveal Mom’s bare breasts. Her nipples were trembling with more excitement than her slightly enhanced breath indicated she was experiencing.



Taking each between the finger and thumb of each hand, I stretched my knees out behind me and lowered my face until I was able to suck Mom’s pubic lips into my mouth. My tongue found her groove and plowed up through her slit, wiggling from side to side on the backswing. I lapped through Mom’s slit for several minutes, remembering to pull lightly on her nipples. Gradually, Mom’s responses to my mouth increased in intensity and when the tip of my tongue found her inner hole on a gentle upswing of her hips, I pushed it deep inside.



“Ohhhhhhh Godddd!” Mom cried, twisting her hips and lunging against my face.



I teased Mom for ages with my lips and tongue. I had watched many porno flicks on the Internet and noticed that the actors only licked a woman for a few minutes before climbing aboard to satisfy themselves. Instead, I took Mom through to a complete orgasm and for the first time experienced the joy of an ecstatic woman clutching my head and uncontrollably grinding her pussy on my face, a woman totally abandoned to an all-consuming orgasm.



After Mom settled back into the bed, I crawled atop her body and kissed her full on the lips. Within seconds, we were locked in the most intense necking session I had ever experienced. Mom showed me what kissing was all about.



I was so engrossed that I didn’t realize until the act was accomplished that Mom’s arms had curled about my neck, her legs were wrapped around my waist, and her heels were digging into my ass. My cock skidded repeatedly over Mom’s wet pussy and, with a deft movement of her hips, the head slipped inside Mom’s pussy.



“Make love to me,” Mom whispered as soon as my mouth pulled away from hers.



I panicked and tried to pull away but Mom, legs tightening and feet pressing into my ass, lifted herself up with me and my action only served to deepen the penetration of my cock into its maternal home. The sensation was exquisite. Her walls molded to my shaft and slid past it, a pulsing coat of moist heat.



“Love me, baby,” Mom cried.



Deeper, deeper, until I was all the way in and I felt Mom’s pussy lips pressing against my pelvis, gripping the root of my incredibly hard cock.



“Ohhhhhh baby, you’re so big. I need it, I need you. Fuck me, please fuck me.”



Mom’s hips were moving, humping up against my weight, forcing me even deeper within her womb. Her hand was moving through my hair while the other scratched my back and her arms held me so tight there was little choice but to do what she said.



“Ohhhh yeah, fuck me, baby,” Mom whimpered.



I gave in. My hips started moving, succumbing to her urgency and superseding it with my own, driving her harder and harder.



“Oh yes, do it hard,” Mom urged. “I love it, love it.”



I lost myself within her, throwing off all constraint in a frenzied fuck, pounding and pounding, amazed that I wasn’t coming, thrusting harder and harder, wondering why she wasn’t complaining and trying to slow me down instead of urging me on, faster and faster, whispering in my ear, saying nothing, just moaning and grunting with me.



When I finally came, Mom lowered her legs and locked them around the back of my thighs. As I strained my muscles, flexing my body against hers, still grunting my bliss and pouring my liquid pleasure within her, Mom ensured that not a single drop escaped capture.



“Fill me baby,” she rasped several times in quick succession.



We enjoyed a long, languid kiss when I had recaptured my breath and then I pulled away, holding her hands in mine until they slipped away. I backed out of the room, watching Mom, less afraid of her removing the mask than not wanting to tear my eyes away from her sated body until the last moment.



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



The next morning Mom filled my plate with pancakes before serving Dad and my glass was filled with juice before his coffee was served. Dad didn’t notice but I did. Mom didn’t speak to me any differently, nor were her interactions abnormal, other than serving me first. Yet, there was something that made me hyper aware of her. It was a sexual awareness so intense it felt like a physical presence but Mom hadn’t made any overt movements nor did she strike any suggestive poses. If a camera had recorded the scene, I’m sure there would have been no visual evidence of inappropriate behavior. But something had triggered my awareness and, even though I couldn’t put my finger on it, I knew it was there. Since I couldn’t point to anything specific, I assumed it was simply a side-effect of the afterglow from Mom’s visit the previous evening and possibly her subliminal appreciation of my part in making it happen, that is, making myself scarce.



After Dad left Mom went upstairs. Fifteen minutes later she was back, wearing a different outfit. Though subdued, it modeled her figure very well and its rather conservative lines heightened rather than diminished her sexuality. I knew then that Mom knew I was aware that she was having an affair and that even though my tacit support wasn’t openly acknowledged, it was appreciated. It was interesting that the way Mom chose to show her appreciation was to dress nicely, even seductively, for me. Besides looking physically attractive, Mom appeared fresh-faced, alive, and full of zest.



“You look very nice, Mom. Are you going somewhere special?”



“Just out with some friends for lunch and a little shopping.”



“Oh. Well, have a good time.”



“I will, and speaking of that, are you going out again tonight?”



I didn’t hesitate, “Yes,” I replied.



“Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping you could help your father so he could get away to come home earlier tonight.”



“Sorry Mom.”



She smiled. “Not to worry. He might be able to get away. He said he’d try anyway.”



That night, after our first fuck, which I tried to make tender and gentle, and failed again due to Mom’s urging, I pushed her legs up and bent then back onto her chest before entering her for a second fuck. I straddled her haunches and dug in deep, triggering an answering grunt that wasn’t entirely unappreciative.



“Oohhh, you’re so big tonight,” she cooed.



I loved that Mom said that, and I loved the way her body bounced off the bed after we had struck our rhythm, impaling her pussy upon my cock, and I loved the sound of our thighs slapping so noisily together they nearly drowned out our love sounds.



The third fuck was slow and gentle, a fuck both intense and restrained, full of tender touches and kissing, a fuck that really was making love and, when I finally reached orgasm, emptying my milk into Mom’s womb was an extended affair.



That was probably the best Saturday night of my life.



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



The next day was Sunday so there was no opportunity substitute myself for a supposed lover’s visit since the store was closed. However, Mom was especially attentive to me all morning and when she asked me to drive her to the mall to do some shopping I agreed right away although there wasn’t anything wrong with her car. In fact, we drove there in it.



I had thought Mom was going grocery shopping and wanted help carrying the bags so when she drove past the grocery store I thought she just wanted to get the food last, which made sense. Mom browsed through a ton of stores. Normally, I would have been quite impatient but I simply tagged along, happy to be with her. I had ample opportunity, toddling along behind, to watch Mom’s supple figure moving enticingly under her summer dress.



Mom browsed through several clothing stores but only tried on two things, a brown dress and a navy blue skirt. She emerged from the dressing room in the dress to check herself out in the mirror, preened about without comment and returned, presumably to try on the skirt next. A minute later, Mom called me to the fitting room door and, after asking if anyone was out there but me and hearing my negative reply, she opened the door.



“What do you think? Is it nice?”



Mom had replaced the dress with the navy blue skirt and was wearing only a bra on top. I guess since Mom had worn a dress into the store, she couldn’t come out to see what it looked like in the mirror. I was tongue-tied but Mom ignored my predicament, twisting her hips this way and that to model the skirt.



“How does it hang?” she asked, turning half around.



Recovering quickly, I gave serious attention to the way the skirt hung over Mom’s behind and said it looked great.



“Do you think I should get it?”



“Yes.”



“Okay, thanks.”



Mom closed the door. She bought the skirt but not the dress and we continued shopping. The funny thing was, although the incident could be seen as provocative it could also be interpreted as completely innocent. I had seen Mom in her bra before and had certainly seen her often in two-piece bathing suits. However, given what had been going on in our house, I interpreted the incident as anything but innocent which both thrilled and unnerved me. It added weight to my theory that Mom’s interludes had put her in a heightened state of sexuality and thus she hadn’t given a second thought to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a blouse when she asked me about the skirt. It was, in fact, an innocent act.



My thoughts, however, were anything but. I racked my brain for an excuse to be with Mom that night but came up empty. I may have been distracted by the expanse of crossed leg that Mom managed to display as sipped her coffee when we stopped to have a snack. I was the only one able to witness the show except for the one man who walked by us to use the washroom. He made it quite obvious that turning his head was well worth the effort. Mom didn’t look at him but smiled at me when he looked at her. It sent my insides aflutter that Mom knew what she was doing, was aware of the effect it had on the man, and wasn’t bothered that I witnessed it. Nor did she cover up her legs then or afterwards.



We visited a few more stores and then returned to the car. Mom waited for me to open the door for her instead of simply unlocking it remotely with the key chain. I clued in after a few seconds and ran around to let her in and was glad I did when she treated me to a wonderful look at her thighs as she dipped to get into the car. Again, I asked myself if that was done on purpose or if it was simply unavoidable when getting into a car in a tight dress. I hadn’t been on that side of the car when we left the house, so I didn’t know. I drove around to the grocery store but Mom said she was tired of shopping and wanted to go home.

That night, Mom wore her new skirt. We sat for quite a while watching TV while Dad read before Mom switched to a book too. Another long period went by before Mom changed the position of her legs and folded them underneath herself, stretching her left foot out on the couch toward me. Even though I was into one of my favorite shows, I was aware of its proximity. It stopped just short of my leg but a moment or two later, Mom’s foot poked me just above the knee. I reached out to still her annoying foot.



I didn’t intend to rub her foot and wasn’t aware of quite when I started. I happened to notice during a commercial when I looked down to see my fingers wrapped around the top of Mom’s foot and my thumb rubbing her instep in a small circle. As I watched, my thumb began scratching a firmer path the length of Mom’s foot. This continued for several minutes until Mom changed pages and lifted the book from her lap as she shifted her weight to make herself more comfortable. Although she pulled her foot away to do this, it soon returned and shortly thereafter, I resumed my deliberate massage of her sole.



Mom’s toes started scratching the side of my leg. Just once at first and then again a minute later. I kept rubbing her foot and her toes scratched my leg more often. After a bit, I looked at Mom, thinking she might be trying to catch my attention without saying anything, but she was intently focused on her book. Mine, however, became riveted on Mom’s skirt, or rather, where it should have been. The wide hem of the pleated skirt had swept up onto Mom’s leg, exposing almost the entire expanse of the underside of her thigh though the top, visible from Dad’s perspective, was properly covered.



I couldn’t believe it. Mom’s toes scratched my leg again and I was convinced she had both uncovered her thigh and poked me on purpose but the way she continued reading, oblivious of all around her, produced doubts and I became convinced it was simply another innocent accident, just like the incident in the dressing room. I extended the reach of my thumb to tickle the underside of Mom’s toes and she shifted her leg slightly so that her thigh twisted up, exposing even more leg and even providing a glimpse of her panties.



It must have been fifteen minutes later that I became aware of Mom looking at me. I raised my eyes to meet hers, too far gone to be self-conscious about being caught in my obvious adoration. Mom was smiling, not a teasing smile, but one that was faint and hard to interpret.



“Would you like some tea and cookies for a snack?”



I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.



Mom’s smile widened and she put her book on the arm of the couch. As she got up the skirt fell over her legs and I was left wondering if the whole incident had even happened, a raging boner the only evidence that it really had. Nothing else happened that night. When Mom returned with tea and snacks, she didn’t lift her foot back onto the couch and, consequently, there was no further display of her leg.



The next day Mom was less attentive to me, switching her appreciation to Dad who arrived downstairs sooner than me. This made me think that I was right in believing her previous consideration was the result of heightened sexual awareness generated from her lover’s visits, that the attention to me or to Dad was the result of guilt, and the target was simply whoever was nearest at the time.



That morning I helped Mom with the grocery shopping and was treated to a leggy display both getting in and out of the car. After lunch at home I told Mom I had to go out for the afternoon. I parked the car in the usual place and sneaked into my room, undressed, and crept down the hall to peek into Mom’s room.



She was lying on her back again but this time was naked except for the sleeping mask. Approaching confidently without fear that Mom would open her eyes, I knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. There, I breathed quietly on the soles of Mom’s feet for a couple of minutes. Her breath immediately became more shallow, as if anticipating an imminent action and her toes, now painted in a coral color, curled in appreciation. Delicately, I stretched out my tongue and traced the sole of her right foot from heel to toes and then ran the tip sideways along the crease at the base of her toes.



Knowing Mom expected me to repeat the caress on the other foot, I stood, leaned over, and kissed the inside of Mom’s left leg just below the knee. She moved her knees apart in surprise and I used the opportunity to shift her feet wider apart. Lowering my face close to her pelvis, I breathed on Mom’s pussy the same way I had breathed on her foot.



This time, I made Mom wait longer before flicking my tongue out to find and trace the groove between her lips, then flicked sideways several times before piercing through to her inner sanctum. Mom opened her legs wider in anticipation of an imminent munching episode but instead I crawled over her and held myself in push-up ready stance, hovering over the full length of Mom’s body.



I lowered myself until my chest was brushing Mom’s nipples and arched my back so the tip of my cock dangled onto her mound. Holding myself there was difficult but Mom eventually realized I was waiting for her to react. Lifting her ass, Mom searched for and found my cock with her open slit and pushed until the head slipped into her cunt.



Still, I held my ground. Slowly, Mom starting fucking, pushing her hips up until my entire shaft was embedded within her. I held my ground and Mom started flexing her hips up and down in a steady rhythm. Her hands soon flattened under her ass, palms up, to assist her lift. We fucked like that until we were both gasping with pleasure and Mom additionally with effort.



At last, I took pity on her, scooped her legs up by threading my elbows under her knees and pushed them back onto her chest, then started a very serious, pounding fuck. Mom was very wet and the lovely sound of wet, slapping flesh filled the room. When I came, I remained deep within Mom’s pussy and, for her part, she twisted around until she wrung every drop out of me. I collapsed on top of her and lay still, panting, until I could breathe normally. We fucked again about half an hour later and then I left.



Every day that week, I visited Mom in the afternoon for similar fucks and twice, on Thursday and Friday, I also visited her at night, taking her twice from behind. I wasn’t so surprised by my stamina, having masturbated nightly for years, but I was by Mom’s. I read up on it on the Internet and found that it wasn’t abnormal for a mature woman to be capable of having sex daily, especially if she hadn’t been very active for a long period.



Strangely, Mom reverted to not paying much attention to me, or to Dad, and the foot game was not re-enacted.



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



On Saturday afternoon, I visited Mom again. I hadn’t expected to have the opportunity until the evening but Mom took the lead.



“I’m feeling a little tired, Rob. I think I’ll go upstairs for a nap,” she announced.



“Oh, sure, okay Mom,” I responded.



Mom turned half way up the stairs. “If your father comes home, could let him know I’m having a nap?”



“Uh, I’m going out Mom. Maybe I’ll go down to the store to see if I can help out.”



“Oh. Would you mind leaving him a note then in case he misses you?”



“Sure.”



Mom went upstairs and I sat downstairs pondering my options. Clearly, Mom wasn’t expecting Dad and since I had convinced myself that she knew that I knew something was going on, this was her signal that her lover was coming and I should leave.



Could I really wait for a while and slip upstairs for a quickie, again pretending to be her lover? I couldn’t make up my mind but in the end horniness won the day. I opened and closed the door, then sat for another ten minutes. Instead of going through the motions of moving the car and sneaking into my room, I simply opened and closed the door again, then crept up the stairs and peeked into Mom’s bedroom. Sure enough, there she was, nude, lying on her back with legs open and knees already bent and lifted. She was ready to be eaten or fucked and probably in that order.



I continued to my room, doffed my clothes, and returned to the hallway. For some reason, it struck me that I should be using a condom but I hadn’t up to that point, so what was the point? Mom must be taking care of that because she seemed eager to soak up all my jism. She must have some idea of who she thought her lover was, and that he was fixed and therefore probably married and not requiring precautions, because otherwise the consequences were dire.



A sinking feeling overwhelmed me, leaving me light in the head, and I almost fell against the wall. Returning to my bedroom, I found the rubber in the back of my drawer that I had bought a couple of years earlier, unnecessarily of course, for my first date with Margaret Wenton. I put it on, somewhat surprised that it didn’t disintegrate from age. Suitably armed, I turned back toward Mom’s bedroom, intent on completing my mission.



I gave Mom’s feet a damn good licking before dragging my tongue leisurely up her legs. My fingers held her nipples as I sank my tongue deep between her lips and started lapping up her effluent. Throughout all my prior experimentation, I had found that Mom liked to be lapped. I kept it up, eventually used a finger to assist, until Mom reached her first orgasm. I had also found that Mom was more pliable if I first ate her out without hurrying.



Climbing aboard, I crawled over Mom’s chest and pushed my cock into her waiting mouth. Taking my time, I slowly began fucking her face as I adjusted the pillow behind her head to keep it up at a conducive angle. Several times I almost displaced the sleeping mask and once Mom beat me to it to push it back into place. This had happened earlier in the week and as a result I was no longer anxious about getting caught. When I was close to coming, I pulled out of Mom’s mouth and slid down her body. She was already lifting her legs and holding them where it was easy for me to grab and push them onto her chest, rolling her butt up toward me so I could easily enter and pound on her pussy. Mom already knew what I, or ‘her lover’, liked.



About fifteen minutes later, I was finished and had almost recovered my breath when Mom tried to twist around onto her tummy. I lifted my weight so she could move, then settled onto her ass. My cock had embedded itself in her crack and, despite my recent orgasm, began to get interested again. It had been a long time since the one time Mom had let me in her ass. I had begun to think it had been a one-time opportunity but the way she was nudging back at my slowly stiffening cock, I started to hope that maybe it was simply a rare event.



Soon, we were rubbing each other in mini-fuck movements and my cock was definitely hard and ready. I pulled it back until it slid off Mom’s crack and then pushed it into her waiting, very wet pussy. Once inside, I started moving to and fro in very slow thrusts, secure in the knowledge that we both understood this was simply a primer and the big event would be a visit to the dark side. Man, I was so happy I had decided to come upstairs.



That’s when everything changed.



Without breaking the slow rhythm we had settled into, Mom got up onto her elbows—which was easy because I had lifted up to brace myself on my arms and watch my cock moving in and out of Mom—reached under the pillow on the other side of the bed, and pulled out her cell phone. As I watched, stunned, she flipped the phone open at the same time she used her other hand to pull the mask off her head.



I was hovering, braced above Mom, my cock deep in her from behind, and she was selecting a number to call. Amazingly, I didn’t stop fucking her. I don’t know if it was self-preservation, knowing that changing anything would call attention to me, or what. But my cock kept moving slowly in and out.



I recognized the number. She was calling the store!



Shit! Was she calling to check up on me? Why the fuck had I said I was going to the fucking store? Mom shook her head and lifted the phone to her ear. I heard the person answering quite clearly.



“Mr. Horlock, please,” Mom responded.



“Just a moment, Mrs. Horlock.



Mom waited. I kept moving within her, my past flashing before my eyes.



“Yes?” barked my father.



I almost had a heart attack. Dad was obviously on the phone but his voice, so near, made it seem he was physically present, and able to see who was…



“Hello dear. I was just wondering if you wanted steak for dinner or fish?”



“Lisa, I’m very… uh, actually, I’m going to be late again tonight. Sorry.”



“That’s okay dear. Would you like me to keep something warm for you?”



“Uh, no. I’ll get something, have something brought in.”



“Okay dear. Bye.”



“Lisa?”



“Yes?”



“I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you this weekend.”



“Oh that’s alright dear. Rob will look after me. By now.”



I almost choked on those words and I certainly missed a stroke.



“Bye,” Dad’s voice sounded more distant, as if he was already hanging up.



I heard Dad’s chair swivel around, a sound I had become a familiar with, and the phone clattered onto the receiver on his desk. Mom put her cell phone on the bed but left it open. I could hear sounds coming from the phone. Dad had evidently not hung up the phone properly and the clatter I’d heard was likely it falling off the cradle. However, Dad must have already turned around in his chair because I’m sure he wouldn’t have said what he did next if he knew the line was still open.



“Come on, get your mouth back on it.”



My eyes almost bugged out of my head.



“That’s it baby. See, you’re getting the hang of it. Take it deep…hold it, hold it…”



There was a pop and a loud gasping for air.



“Yeah baby. I can’t give you Christmas off but you can have the whole week after Thanksgiving.”



There was a muffled, unintelligible sound.



“I thought you’d like that. I usually only let the Moms have Thanksgiving off but you do this so well…yeah, hold it, hold it, hold it, fantastic…oh yeah!”



There was a louder popping sound and a more desperate grasp for air. Dad had found someone new.



Mom lowered her head onto the mattress and reached behind herself. She inched forward, dislodging herself from my cock and pulled her cheeks apart with both hands. I stared at the little whole, open to the size of a penny, already greased and ready to go.



Mom had planned this!



I pushed the tip of my cock into Mom’s well-lubed bunghole and pushed. It sank inside easily but I waited for her ass to accommodate my bulk anyway. While listening to Dad getting his cock sucked, I slowly pushed my throbbing shaft into Mom’s asshole. Her hands had returned to press palm down beside her shoulders and she turned to face the open cell phone just as I reached full depth. At that moment, Mom spoke directly at her phone in full voice as if I was across the room.



“I never let your father in my ass, so fuck it good.”



There was no response from the cell phone other than the sound of Dad getting blown. Mom laughed and I started moving slowly in and out. I loved being in her tight ass but this was incredible. What a feeling, listening to Dad getting blown, watching my Mom catching him red-handed while she broadcast letting someone taking her in the ass. Could it get better than that?



Yes, actually it could. That someone was me, his son, her son, and she had obviously known all along it was me. Her laugh had relieved the shock of her revelation, that and the feel of her ass pulling on my cock. I did my best to make this the best fuck Mom had ever had. I don’t know if I succeeded—it sounded like I didn’t do too bad—but I hoped I did well enough.



A little fear niggled at my brain, that I wouldn’t be able to keep Mom interested without the excitement of not knowing who was doing her, but I would have to worry about that later. Right now, there was a serious ass underneath me begging for more and Mom was moaning loudly, pulling the pillow over her head, and ignoring the phone like it didn’t matter anymore. She was mine.



After we had finished, we showered together and went downstairs for dinner. Mom cooked a steak which we ate with baked potatoes and brussel sprouts, topped with a nice Merlot. We didn’t leave anything for Dad. After dinner, we settled in to watch a movie together, cuddling on the couch. Just after the movie started Mom turned to me.



“Did you really think, Robert, that I would believe your father could take me three times in one night?”



She laughed, probably because she could see in my face that the thought that he couldn’t hadn’t occurred to me, as it wouldn’t to any teenager. I imagine that I also looked like I thought I was still in trouble.



“Don’t worry, I’m hardly going to tell your father, now am I, and anyway, isn’t it obvious he never listens to me?”



We had a good belly laugh at that one. Sitting close together as we were, the laughter initiated tremors and that started things going again. We went upstairs.



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



On Monday, I had sex with Mom as soon as Dad was out the door. He was still in the driveway when I lifted her skirt and entered her from behind, unable to slip her panties aside because she wasn’t wearing any. The rest of that week taught me something new: older women can be very, very horny, and quite insatiable.



Our relationship grew from that point on and it was almost as if she and I were the couple and Dad was the third party. Dad continued spending most of his time at the store which left lots of time for Mom and I to be together, becoming more in tune with each other every day, and not just sexually. We often drove to the next town where we could be together without being recognized, if not unnoticed because of our age disparity. Life was good.



Then one of the women at the store quit and brought forth a complaint against Dad. At first, he weathered it by denigrating her and accusing her of theft but then a former employee added her own complaint, and another current employee joined the chorus, and then another. The publicity wrought a drop in sales with each new complaint and the legal bills, though initially nominal, threatened to become onerous.



Dad pretended there wasn’t a problem and acted as if he was completely innocent, expressing anger that his generosity as an employer was met with such ingratitude. He was in complete denial and refused to believe the drop in sales was in any way related to the issue because ‘his customers’ would know the accusations were false. In the end, he handled the problem in his own way: he had a stroke, and that changed everything.



At first, it was an emotional shock because, despite his self-serving, abusive behavior he was still my father. Moreover, his constant presence in the house made it difficult for Mom and I to be together but that eventually changed. Since Dad seemed to be unaware of his surroundings, I took his place in Mom’s bed and we put him in my room. If he was downstairs—we had a lift installed to let a wheelchair traverse the stairs—and the mood struck us, we simply wheeled him into another room. Dad wasn’t capable of telling anyone even if he was aware and, let’s face it, he wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander. Once, we got carried away before wheeling Dad away and something about him convinced me that he knew what was happening but couldn’t respond. Fuck him.



Through this three month period the store was managed by Mrs. Omed but despite her best efforts sales continued to slide and layoffs were imminent. In addition, the legal problems were steadily progressing and were definitely not in our favor. Something had to be done.

About thirteen years ago my boys and I bought a house together, and the things that have happened since then really turned my world upside down. My name is Angela and I have raised my three boys as a single mother since I was 18 years old. I have had to work extremely hard, but I must admit that I have had it much better than many women in my situation. I became pregnant with my first son, Edward, when I was just 15 and gave birth to him when I was 16. Being the brilliant teenager that I was I got pregnant again just three months later, this time with the twins, Ethan and Allen. The boys have the same dad and we have always had support from both families, but things were doomed for their father and I from the start. Luckily with the support our families provided we were both able to finish school and Brad, the boys father, was even able to get a degree in engineering. He makes pretty good money and has always supported the boys to the point that we could live well with my lesser earnings.



As an attractive young mom to three boys I got a lot of attention from their friends, and rightly so if I do say so myself. I think in different circumstances I could have been a successful actress. My hair is a deep brown with just a hint of red, styled and about shoulder length. Just long enough to be sexy but not long enough to be a pain to maintain. I have bright green eyes and very cute little nose. My lips aren’t full and pouty but they are not really thin either, somewhere right in between the two. I also love my body. Maybe my ego is swollen from all the compliments I get but I really do love it. I am very tall at 5’10″ with C cup breasts and a round booty too. I don’t work out so my tummy isn’t completely flat and muscular, but I still look great in a two piece. I don’t care too much about how my nails look, but I know all the guys like them so I keep them nice because I like the attention they all give me.



Again I may have a skewed perspective, but I think the boys are very attractive as well. They all three look pretty much the same, with very few and very minor differences.Edward is a bit taller at 6’2″ but the twins aren’t far behind at 6′ and his hair is just a shade or two darker. Other than those minor differences my three boys could be triplets instead of twins. They are also very close, it seems like they do everything together. They aren’t really jocks but all three played on the high school soccer team and their bodies were lean and strong. It always makes me proud to see how strong and healthy they are. With all that, add the dirty blonde hair and baby blue eyes, my boys had their pick of the girls in high school, and as I later found out even beyond the school girls.



About six months ago the twins graduated from high school and decided it was time for our living arrangements to change a little. They weren’t planning to go on to college full time right away and they, along with Edward already had good paying construction jobs. I had a good job at the time myself and with all our incomes flowing into the same household we had plenty of money and wanted to buy a home. We had rented up ’till then but something about home ownership just felt right. We talked it over and decided to buy a house together. It was a little strange I’ll admit, but it felt right and has worked out wonderfully. There has been one or two times when it got a little strange though, and the first time didn’t take long to happen.



It took about a week to get all moved in and we were all just in love with the house. Everybody felt right at home, and the atmosphere was super casual. I went grocery shopping that Saturday morning and when I got home I was in for the shock of my life. I walked in on my sons and one of there good friends practically having an orgy with their girlfriends right there in my living room. They even had more girls than guys. I knew they dated more than one girl at a time sometimes, but I had no idea the girls knew about it and didn’t care. It was quite a sight as I stood there with my arms full of groceries. They didn’t even stop when they saw me either. Edward was on his back with a mouth full of pussy and another girl had his cock deep down her throat. Ethan was fucking his girlfriend doggie style while she ate Allan’s girlfriends pussy. Allan’s girlfriend was loving every lick of it while she sucked Allan’s cock and apparently fingered his ass. Their buddy John was on the other side of the room with two girls on their knees sharing his cock between them.



I knew all of these girls and I figured my boys had sex with some of them, but I had know idea it was anything like this. I was just staring in shock for god knows how long. Finally one of the girls sharing Johns cock noticed me and got up, leaving poor John with only one beautiful young lady to service his needs. Gina was the one who got up and came over to me, fully nude with no shame at all. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of, she was stunning and young with long straight brown hair and a slender tight body capped with perky, if somewhat small little titties. As she was walking toward me Gina had to pass the others and when she passed Ethan she paused briefly to kiss him deeply and passionately while he continued railing her friend. After that she looked at me and smiled and said, “Hi Miss Angela would you like some help with those?” reaching out and taking the bags from my hands. I was still in a bit of shock and let her take the bags. As I watched her naked little ass scurry toward the kitchen I had to take a seat and get a grip.



I sat in the leather chair, which was one of the few pieces of furniture not currently occupied, and was fortunately very close. I guess the boys didn’t realize I was there until just then Because Allen looked up from his blow-job and said, “Hi mom,” like nothing unusual was going on at all. Ethan and Edward must have heard their brothers greeting because they each turned and greeted me the same way almost in unison. Their friend John however did one better. He pulled his dick out of Becky’s mouth and walked over to me, leaned down and gave me a hug. I leaned forward and hugged him back like I always did, and when he stood back straight his dick almost hit me square in the face.



He said, “Hi miss Angie how was your shopping trip? That dress looks fabulous on you.” I thanked him and told him my trip was fine, dumbfounded that we were conversing with his cock dangling right in front of my face. “well I don’t want to keep Becky waiting too long,” John said as he turned away. “She gets fussy if she doesn’t get to finish,” he said snickering as he slid his cock right back into Becky’s waiting mouth.



Gina returned from the kitchen and casually sat on the arm of the chair that I was in, putting her arm around me just like she would have done if she weren’t completely nude. About that same time Edward had finished licking Samantha’s pussy to a shuttering orgasm, and he chatted with me while Samantha helped Shelby finish cumming on his cock. “Mom I hope it doesn’t bother you too much, but it is our house too and well, with moving in and all, we needed some good relaxing release, and this is how we do it. I knew it would be a shock for you the first time, but I know we’re close and can work through it,” Edward said, and then dove right back into Samantha’s pussy.



I hadn’t noticed while Edward was talking but Gina was rubbing my shoulder sexily with the arm she had around me and also rubbing my leg right around the point were my dress ended with her sexy naked calf. “It’s really not all that strange you know Angie,” she said to me, seeing that she had my attention again.



“This is definitely a little strange Gina, and me being here watching makes it a lot more strange,” I told her but she didn’t waiver one bit.



“Just relax and pay attention to me,” she said and fluidly place my far hand right onto her nipple, then with the same hand she gently lifted my chin and oh so softly kissed my lips. Surprisingly, I had not noticed my own sexuality in all of this mess. As I instinctively kissed Gina back and rolled her rubbery nipple with my fingers I realized how wet my pussy was. I was soaked through. Gina kissed me harder now and pulled my hand away from her breast as she lowered the straps of my dress from my shoulders, exposing my breasts to everyone in the room, and I let her. I was so completely hot and horny that I had lost all control. Her hands and lips were magic as she touched my breasts and kissed my neck. She had my nipple in her mouth when i lifted myself and allowed her to remove my panties. From the time Gina started touching I only knew her touch until I felt a second wonderful mouth on my other nipple. I looked down and saw John sucking my right nipple gently and cupping the left one that Gina had In her mouth.



Gina released my nipple and put her head up under my dress. I was anxious, I wanted to feel her tongue so badly. John kissed my mouth and our tongues danced as I felt Gina’s tongue enter me from below. I came hard. I was out of control. I had both hands on Gina’s head pushing her face hard into my pussy. A cock flashed before my eyes and I grabbed it and I sucked it. Oh my god John’s cock tasted good. My mouth must have felt good too because within just a few minutes he was cumming and I was cumming again. Such a flurry of emotion. Gina was still licking my pussy and Edward had just moaned loudly as he filled my mouth with his seed. Edward, oh my god I thought it was John but he was still sucking my tits. I looked up at Edward suddenly very in the moment and very much in shock.



“God mom that was amazing,” Edward said, with his cock softening in my hand.



“Yeah Angela,” Samantha said, “no one has ever made Edward cum that fast. Not even me when I took his virginity,” she added smiling.



I had just sucked my oldest sons cock and had no idea what was going to happen next. Edwards dick still had a little cum on the tip, John was now standing with his dick almost poking my cheek and Gina was now getting her own pussy licked by Samantha. I was flying on instinct up till now, but it was time to decide. What next? I looked at Edward and smiled, licked the cum off his tip and told John he would have to wait a minute. “Ethan, Allan,” I announced, “get over here and fill your momma up while I swallow Johns cock.”



Everyone kind of paused while I finished removing my dress, then we all got into our places. Brittany lubed up my ass and Danielle stroked the lube onto Ethan’s cock as I mounted Allan and slid his cock as deeply into my burning wet cunt as it would go. It felt amazing, tight but amazing, as two of my boys were sliding into me at the same time. I sucked on John while they slid in and out with perfect timing. I wanted Edward in me too.



“John honey go get Edward. I will fuck you silly later but right now I want my boys. Go get him. Quick, ” I gently ordered and soon I had my baby’s dick firmly between my lips again. We switched positions briefly with Edward on bottom in my ass with me facing away from him, and sweet Ethan grinding my pussy with Allan’s lovely cock rubbing my face inside and out. That position was strenuous though, so when we switch up again. I mounted Edward, and Allan slid easily into my stretched out ass while I sucked Ethan’s lube covered cock. I was surprised to see Edward lean up, and as I sucked his brother’s cock he took his brothers balls gently into his mouth. Ethan loved it and was soon sending his seed down his mothers loving throat. when he finished Allan quickly took his place with his cock in my mouth and his sack in Edwards, he too drained a load deep down mommies throat.



I had now swallowed all my boys cum and they still weren’t done with me yet. Edward roll up on my back with my ankles almost to my ears and entered my pussy. He pounded me hard and loud, grunting and sweating and thrusting. John slid into Edward from behind and I felt his balls empty into me almost instantly. He didn’t soften though and his cock rammed deep in me every thrust that John rammed into him. I came hard again yelling, “Fuck us Johnny, fuck us.” He came with me, deep in my sons ass.



I was drained and needed a shower. I told them all that I was going to shower and nap. I also told John he could come to my room for some one on one action in a couple of hours if he wanted to, but I needed some rest first. He agreed and I was on my way.



That was the first of many sexual encounters in this house. My boys and I were always close, and after that we were even closer. They are all married now with kids of their own. We are still very close though, and we all even live together still. We have had to buy a bigger house though to accommodate our ever growing family. With all the kids around we don’t have the large group sessions very often any more, but we all still fuck, and every now and again when the timing is just right, my boys still all enter me as one and their wives all seem to love eating their cum out of me.

This story is a prequel to “New Years Kisses.”



Mirrors are not our friends +++++



Stepping out of the shower and drying off on that cool December night back in 1988, I stood at my mirrored vanity. As a 38-year-old mother of two grown kids, I was about to secretly perform perhaps the sickest of self-confirming rituals.



SELF:



“Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?” I silently asked with raised eyebrow eager for a positive reaffirming sign.



MIRROR:



“Hmm, well if we’re talking fair as in “average,” then I’d say you’re hanging in there.”



SELF:



“Okay, the “girls” had slipped a bit lately, but they’re still nice, big and round, C’MON!” I pleaded, handily hoisting my double-d’s up for a perkier pose.



MIRROR:



“Time for a reality check, Chubby. Sure your tits are admirable; but we’re talking fairest of them ALL…right? In which case, I fear MJ has you covered in spades — HA!”



SELF:



“Stupid fucking mirror!” I covered the undeniable evidence with my towel and gave the mirror one last disgruntled sneer.



MIRROR:



“Hey, let’s talk again, once you’ve dropped say 20 or 25 pounds!” The unforgiving magical monster chided, as my bruised ego and chubby rest-of-me made our getaway.



Whipping open the bathroom door, I immediately crashed into a six-foot tall masculine frame. My towel unhinged itself from between my jugs, which I’m sure offered my son a brief yet revealing view of my mature goodies.



“JOSH, what the hell?” I shrieked, doing my best to pull the white terrycloth towel close enough to prevent a full frontal exposure.



“Sorry Mom; didn’t mean to startle you,” he calmly assured me, letting his hand cautiously rest on my bare shoulder. His innocent touch sent an unexpected tingle clean through me. [God, I haven't been touched by a man in damn near a month, and it has to be my SON!]



Quickly shifting my trusty towel from vertical back to horizontal I slid from under the warmth of his harmless yet inappropriate touch. Still tingling, I tightly wrapped and secured the towel as before. “So what’s the big urgency, and why are you whispering?”



With his wide eyes glued on my deep cleavage, he surely must be in awe of my expertise in towel management–right! Raising both arms to finger-comb my wet locks, I let him ogle to his heart’s content. [I mean hell, he is a man and I haven't flirted in such a long time.] When he remained silent to my question, I tossed my hair back and did a one-eighty. Playfully backing my 5-foot, 4-inch frame into him, I leaned back against his chest to make eye contact. “Earth to Josh!” I exclaimed; watching his focus make its way from my chest to my inquiring eyes. [What can I say; my son is a boob man. I love it!]



He gulp/coughed before I felt both hands on my shoulders. This was typically a sign that a massage was soon to follow. He’s diligently performed many a shoulder kneading to relieve my recent tension. He knows I love it. Feeling those talented fingers starting to work my bare shoulders, I realized this was his first message with me nearly naked.



“Just wanted to let ya know, I’m on Bastard Patrol tonight; gotta hot lead,” he whispered in my ear like an undercover agent (no pun intended). I never wanted to know where he got his hot leads, but I was glad he kept his voice down. With 14-year-old Megan just down the hall, this was information I was ashamed to share with Josh, never mind with his younger sister.



This was more than your normal ‘Where’s Waldo’ case of incidental deception. Josh thought of spying on his old man as cloak and dagger work — a dark Ninja-type adventure. Fact was I had known for months that Donny had been up to no good with his secretary from work. After several late nights of work-related excuses, I figured the 25-year-old vixen had her hooks out for fresh hubby flesh. Donny, the unsuspecting sap he is, was no doubt having another mid-life meandering.



For Mary Jane Karwell (“MJ” to nearly everybody), I didn’t honestly believe she was fishing for the perfect catch to save her from a less-than-adequate life. She was just a trampy ball-buster that required plenty of male attention. Hey, I was once twenty-five and burning candles at both ends. I know how the attention of older guys can be a real turn on.



I got a preview of what she was capable of at last year’s company Bar-B-Que. After virtually dumping her boy-toy husband upon arrival, she soon had three horny married guys sniffing around her. I kind of got a kick from watching her juggle all that testosterone, at least until Donny started sniffing. Since the sniffing never amounted to any substantial fooling around, I let it slide; never once confronting him about the party or MJ. In retrospect, I probably should have questioned him at the time. [Don't ya hate shouldas and couldas?]



“Well, just make sure YOU don’t get into trouble. That’s all we need,” I warned Josh, as I retreated from under his fluent fingers to dress for bed. Slipping my thin-strapped cotton nightgown overhead I let the towel drop and slid under the covers. [Now, get out of here handsome, before I throw a net over you and drag your tight, ripe body in next to me.]



Josh was such a calm and collected character; not at all like his once wild and unrestrained mother at that age. His raging teenage hormones never surfaced as far as I knew — low metabolism or some chemical imbalance. Who knows? I always sensed a transcendent twinkle behind his eyes and an occasional red-faced blush whenever the question of sex was discussed, so I was sure he wasn’t queer.



Hearing his refurbished late 60′s Cadillac rumbling out of the drive, I fingered through a few pages of my latest romance novel before dozing off.



Whether it was that cold gust of December chill or Josh’s gloved hand on my shoulder, I was startled awake at 12:17 A.M. A blurred glance at the time and unruffled bed told me Donny still wasn’t home.



“Get up Mom. Get up! I found him. He’s at the Family Inn and he’s not alone. C’mon, get up!”



“Jesus Chr— JOSH! What the hell?”



“Bastard Patrol, ya know. C’mon, I found him!” Josh insisted, like he’d just discovered John Dillinger’s hideout.



Pulling me up to a slump, he was so tickled with his news. My brain (no doubt still floating in some evaporated dream) was slow to react, while I let him shake my body awake.



“Okay, OKAY! Let ME do this,” I yelled, pulling my jeans up over my gown.



“Here, you’ll need this.” Josh impatiently shoved my arms into Donny’s floor-length trench coat.



“That’s not my c—,” I started, when he twirled me around to cinch the belt around me.



“There’s no time. We’ve got to hurry; he’ll get away.”



Undercover Amazon +++++



Here I am dressed in my nightgown, jeans, booties, and Donny’s trench coat looking like some twisted female version of Sam Spade. “Gosh, maybe I ought to pack some heat; whatdya think, Rocco?” I smirked, as my son plopped a knit cap on top of my disheveled coif.



A quick dash into the December cold, Ma Bonny and her Clyde were soon in the warm Caddie winding our way to Donny’s designated rendezvous — a real den of inequity — the midtown Family Inn. Now I was awake and wondering even more just what the hell I was expected to do. Josh wasn’t real exact about how to deal with a fox in the hen house. After a speedy race across town, Josh silently backed into a secure, well-hidden parking space at the less-than-posh Family Inn. He let me know the room number and that it was halfway across the outside balcony on the second level.



“Well Josh, just so you know, I have no plans on confronting your father. I mean it’s good to know what he’s up to… and with whom, but there’s no way I’m going to make a big scene. Do you understand?” I stated, gathering the too long trench coat around me.



“Hey, whatever you say. But if anything DOES go wrong, just let me know, Okay?”



I detected a sigh of indignation in his voice, but I knew there was no way he wanted to see me physically hurt. The emotional damage would be severe enough for any jilted spouse. I quietly opened the car door and proceeded to the stairway. The cold wind gave me a jolt, as it swirled under and up my long coat. Reaching the second level I lightly strode down the open walkway. At 12:45 most of the lights were out, except for room 232. Lowering myself at the window, I saw a crack in the pulled drapes. Not a big crack, but certainly large enough to peer into the lit room. Squatting down to perch myself at the window, I nearly slipped on a patch of ice.



It was my daring Donny alright. Lying butt-naked on a king-sized bed with an equally naked Mary Jane Karwell free-riding him for all he was worth. The initial sight of my hubby’s obvious carnal betrayal was at once disgusting and detestable. Jealousy burned inside my gut, as I continued to validate his indiscretion. Allowing the seedy vision to seep into my conscious, the sight of MJ’s bared body parts and art of seduction somehow captivated me. With her extra-long wavy brunette hair and heavy laden dark makeup, she was truly a slut whore by anybody’s definition. Her marvelously proportioned booty and 25-year-old boobs seemed even larger in reality. Funny thing is, compared to 5’10″ Donny, she was a virtual giant. Watching the 6-foot tall amazon forcibly bouncing up and down like a jack hammer on my hubby’s lower half, I couldn’t help but snicker.



My lips loosened from an intense pout and curled into a half-witted smile. The more I watched their hyper-charged lust, the more comical the whole scene became. “Good Lord Donny, she’ll ruin you for sure!” I chided to myself. Feeling the patch of ice taking its toll on my poor booties, I shifted my weight as the comedy played on.



“Oops, must be the end of Act 1,” I assumed, as the mismatched couple switched positions. Now my view of MJ was completely unobstructed, as Donny slid down her long torso and legs to have at her snatch. “God, what a fucking slut,” I nearly verbalized, as my hubby’s mouth and tongue went to work on her pussy. “What a… an incredible fucking slut!” I reissued to myself, as my breath started to fog the window.



Her spread thighs and uncommonly long legs twitched and danced, as my hubby continued to pleasure her. All the time, the drama in her facial expressions rapidly morphed from fear and pain to ecstasy; from ecstatic joy to insatiable wickedness. With Donny’s face buried in her bushy vagina, he must be missing all of this. I became increasingly enamored with her and helpless to avert my eyes. [My God, she can't actually SEE me, can she?] Paranoia set in, along with my increasing infatuation.



My answer came soon enough. She wasn’t playing to an audience of one. Two hairy stocky legs bent at the knees joined her. [Damn drapes!] I couldn’t make him out from his posterior. Clearly MJ was making out just fine, as she greedily jacked and sucked the second man’s hard cock.



By now my jealousy had switched from MJ to whomever was doing her, and I’m sure my breath wasn’t the only thing steaming up the window. Feeling bolder, I came out of my crouch and stood up. Curiosity had gotten the best of me. Rubbing my fingers ever-so-lightly over the frosted glass for a better look at Mister Hairy Butt Man; I was getting good at all this stealth stuff.



Unfortunately that last thought was simply a conjecture on my part, as I heard the squeak. [Just a tiny little squeak. They couldn't have heard...] “Oh SHIT!” Heads jerked/turned and three sets of eyes shot to where they each thought the noise come from. That’s when my pink bootie froze to the ice patch and my head hit the window trying to salvage it. “My God, it’s Kenny!”



My heightened senses and half-frozen body somehow got their shit together enough to get me running and skidding back down the icy walkway and metal stairwell. Nearly out of breath by the time I got to the Caddy, I figured there must be three naked people hot on my heels. Grabbing the back door handle, I whipped it open and virtually dove into the back seat.



“DRIVE!”



“What’s the deal? Are you okay?” Josh cranked over the ignition.



“DRIVE DAMN IT!” I shouted, slowly peering out the rear window.



“Okay, okay; we’re outta here,” Josh shifted into gear and within minutes we were out of the neighborhood and on the interstate.



“Did anybody see you? What happened?” Josh scanned his rearview mirror.



Still out of breath and shaken from my perilous escape, I had no idea if they had seen me. Finally sitting up, holding on to my ice-soaked bootie, I tried to collect myself. Noticing the approaching exit sign for our subdivision, I blurted out. “No, I don’t want to go home. I need to get to a bar. Take me to a bar… the closest one!” I demanded.



“Okay, but…”



“But WHAT? How hard is it to figure out? I need a God damn drink, Josh — okay!” I emphasized, starring out into the dark nothingness.



“It’s like 1 o’clock. The bars are closed. Besides, I can’t…” Josh reasoned.



“Oh yeah, I forgot. You couldn’t get in, even if they WERE open! DAMN IT!”



Josh kept the car headed out of town, as we silently considered other options. After he suggested we could stop at a truck stop or rest area to talk, I offered no response. More miles peeled by, as I tried to shake the images clouding my head.



“Well, I just hope you’re not too upset with me. I sure didn’t mean any harm,” Josh repented, saying anything to get me to respond.



“I’m not upset with you, Honey. I’m not one to shoot the messenger–just really need a nice stiff drink right about now, ya know,” I sniffled.



Josh & Jack don’t mix +++++



Another mile marker later, Josh broke through the deafening silence. “If you promise not to get too pissed at me, maybe I could find you a drink.”



“What the hell does THAT mean? I mean okay, I promise I won’t get pissed,” I added in a restrained voice. Josh bent down and under the rider’s side. Bringing out a small bottle from under the seat, he passed it back to me. “Ah, holding out on me huh?”



“Remember, you won’t get pissed — right? And NO questions!” He added, as I unscrewed the cap.



“Jack Daniels, Wow! Now that takes me back a few years,” I quipped and gulped down a nice, long shot. “WHEW, good ole Jack still kicks ass! Thanks Sweetheart,” I smiled into the rearview mirror and took another long dose. [It's kind of a nice revelation to find out your kid has taste, when it comes to his whiskey. Even if he's too young to... never mind.]



“Hey take it easy there, Lady,” Josh warned, as I downed yet another long stiff shot.



Ignoring his cautions, I leaned back on the long warm leather seat and opened my trench coat. “God is it hot in here, or is it me?” I giggled and doffed my remaining bootie.



“Man, that stuff will go straight to your brain. You better slow down a little.”



“Straight to my brain. Straight to the fat lady’s brain; that’s just where I need it–HA!”



I think he was at first amused at seeing his Mom getting a little loopy. At first, that is. “Here, let’s take a break for a while. How’s that?” Josh said, reaching back to take the bottle.



“Hey Sailor, you’re too young for this stuff. So you just k-keep your hands to yourself.” [only a slight slur].



“C’mon now, just a little break okay?” He pleaded.



“A break huh? Okay, I’ll make you deal. You get us off this road and all these stupid lights, and I’ll give ya a sip.” [Here I am trying to strike a drunkard's bargain with my own son.]



“No bright lights, is THAT it?” He asked, pulling off the next exit.



“Yeah, this fat ole lady needs a nice dark hole to crawl off to… or is it INto?”



Pulling off on an outer road and then onto a dark service road to who-the-hell-knows where, he stopped, shifted into park, and turned around. “There ya go–nice and dark; now what’s this nonsense about an old fat lady? I see no such person in THIS car!” His smile nearly melted me.



“No fair! I know how you guys work,” I winked and teased him with the bottle.



“Us guys?”



“Yeah, you’re all alike. Get a girl drunk, steal her bottle of hooch, and then leave her in the ditch,” taking another short swig. “Well it ain’t gonna happen; not with this Mrs. Chubbybuns.”



Josh must have realized at this point that trying to reason with me could be impractical. Switching off the car, he got out and opened the back door. By this time I had discarded the trench coat and edged myself against the opposite door, keeping a firm grip on the whiskey. Josh slid into the backseat, took a long look and rolled his eyes.



“C’mon now Mom and tell me what happened back there,” he pleaded.



“You mean back at the motel? Well, g-guess it was just another case of an unhappy married man getting his rocks off with some sweet young thing.” A few tears and sniffles confirmed my accusation.



“I’m sorry; should of never put you through that,” Josh apologized and reassured me with a glancing touch on my knee.



“Hey, it’s not your fault. After the last three months I suspected something was going on. It’s no real mystery. I mean how many guys want to have anything to do with an old, fat woman?” I opened up.



“Okay, enough of this old and fat stuff. Good Lord you’re not even 40 and the guys I know think you’re in good shape,” he said rubbing my knee.



I capped the bottle and moved closer to face him. “Here look at this,” I said, pulling my long ash blonde hair back. “See that–crow’s feet!” I noted, forcing him to look at my eyes.



“Come on Mom. A little makeup and no one can see that!” He smiled.



“Okay, OKAY then; I’ll show you ‘fat’!” I added. Backing up in the seat, I squirmed out of my jeans and pulled up my gown. “See, you can’t ignore THAT!” I yelled, holding the gown high enough to cover my face and head.



No comment.



Finally after more than a minute of exposing myself, I uncovered enough of my eyes to check his expression. His eyes were firmly locked on my bared chest. “Geez Josh, I don’t mean those; I’m talking about THIS,” I stated and pinched a bit more than a few inches around my tummy.



“Incredible; simply incredible!” Was his robotic response.



“Yes Dear, I know. I’ve never had a problem THERE,” I said with an air of pride.



Releasing my grip on the gown, I shut down my son’s personal peep show. Shaking back to reality, his eyes shifted to meet mine. “Problem? I don’t see a problem. Dad is just a frigging IDIOT!”



“You don’t get it do you? Here, now pay attention,” I said. Hiking the gown up [just a little this time], I raised my pelvis and yanked down my cotton panties. “There, see the problem!” I asked, spreading my chunky thighs wide for his inspection.



Judging from Josh’s second failure to respond, I can only assume I was embarrassing him. “I’m sorry Honey. This must be really grossing you out. [GOD, what a sorry excuse for a mother.] Please forgive me,” I shook my head and reached down for my jeans to cover up. As I leaned forward to conceal my strange behavior, I felt Josh’s hand on my face. When he lifted my chin and motioned my face close to his the jeans fell from my grip.



“Mom, can I be perfectly honest with you?”



With eyes still ashamed to face him, I nodded.



“There isn’t a man alive that could resist you and your charms. Maybe we all see ourselves as less than desirable at certain times. Trust me on this; this is definitely NOT one of those times. You are undeniably beautiful and I believe in your heart you know it,” he added and kissed my forehead.



The fact that my 18-year-old son could conjure up such a caring and inspirational remark, and deliver it with such confidence, took my breath away. I virtually melted into his arms. Grabbing the scruff of his neck, I pulled him until his lips barely touched mine. “Tell me you love me,” I whispered into his mouth.



“You know I do,” he whispered innocently.



Our lips were poised mere microns from touching. Pulling my gown up with one hand, I prodded his hand to my chest. “Tell me,” I urged and slid my hand down his chest to his lap.

“I love you,” He whispered not so innocently and grabbed a hold of my weighty boob.



Prolonging a prelude to the inevitable would be futile. Opening my mouth wide, I forced my tongue inside and gave up any pretense. In my present state of inebriation Josh represented a man who desired me. Good ole Jack Daniels had twisted my brain back some twenty years to crazier times when sex was new, raw and free of alteration. It wasn’t until our first passionate kiss subsided that I took note of just whom I was kissing. Running my fingers through his long blond locks our eyes locked.



His immediate reaction to my assault was unexpected. I must have unlocked a latent desire, as he quickly returned my kiss with an even deeper one. The whole mother/son sinful thing flashed through my head like a warped afterthought. Our mutual desire kindled an unquenchable thirst for more and more of each other. Ripping off my gown with one hand, he buried his face between my jugs, while I scurried to unbuckle his jeans. Lying down on the leather seat, my arms reached out to beckon him to me.



Our shared lust at that moment was suddenly a monstrous yet silent beast. Watching him tear away his jeans and shirt, the subdued reflective light from the snow-caked roads allowed him to see me fondling my boobs and fingering my wet pussy. Pulling down his boxers, I got my first look at his imposing hunk of manhood. My little boy had definitely grown up–and out! [must take after my side of the family]



“Hmm, come to Momma,” was all I could invoke, as I smiled up at him.



Slowly lowering his long body over me, he inexplicably stopped in mid-flight. Supported by his strong arms, he suddenly froze. Tossing his head back, staring at the blank headliner, he must have had a come-to-Jesus moment. “We can’t DO this,” he hovered and shook his head while I reached to stroke his rock-hard nine-inch erection.



“Oh God Josh! You can’t stop NOW! Please Baby, just this once. I need…” I pleaded and firmed up my grip on his thick cock.



“You need… you need WHAT? You need somebody, anybody to fuck you, right?” He started to fade. “Well, problem is; I’m not just ANYbody! Sorry, I can’t do this,” he sighed and leaned back to sort things out. He was slipping away from me and his timing couldn’t be worse. All my addled brain could suspect was yet another rejection.



“Look here now, it’s like taking your date to the prom and not dancing!” I lamely tried to reason, as I scrambled up to implore him. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a really good dance, do you!” I emphasized, pulling his face to mine.



“I’m SORRY, okay! I thought I could… take you–oh, how easy it would be. Shit, I guess something snapped; must be all those morals you raised me with — HA!”



“Here Josh, Baby you just need a drink,” I uncapped the Jack.



Pushing the bottle away, he joked again, “Geez Mom, you think getting me wasted will make it all right? Even I’M smart enough to realize that won’t do the trick.”



“DAMN IT JOSH! Now you’re really trying to make me feel like a fat, sloppy sleazebag,” I pouted, sensing I was about to give up the fight.



“Oh please, don’t start with THAT crap again,” he replied, putting his shirt back on.



“Okay, I’m sorry Baby. I really DO appreciate all of your help tonight,” I switched my tone and stopped him from dressing.



The Accidental Voyeur? +++++



“Well, that’s better.”



“Can’t you do me just one little favor? It’s not much to ask and it won’t take long,” I batted my eyes and helped pull his shirt back down. “I think it would REALLY help… I mean to feel you next to me. Just for a moment or so,” I begged with my best puppy-dog eyes.



My son must have thought I was nuts, but when I promised not to do anything tricky. He relented. “Only for a few seconds, and that’s it,” he reminded me.



“It’s a deal,” I smiled, leaned back and again spread my naked self before him. “You don’t need these, do you?” I stated tugging at his boxers.



“Oh, I think I DO, thank you,” he said and leaned down to technically embrace me.



Even in my semi-sober state I began to sense the elements, as he slid down on top of me. Almost at once his body warmth not only sheltered me from the cold night air, but (on a completely different level) sent a chill through me. He slowly nestled in close. The sinful pleasure of our nearly naked bodies touching was remarkable. Maybe that’s all I needed. I sensed Josh was having similar sensations, until I felt his erection reform. Urging him to settle in deeper, my fingers pulled against his long muscular torso. Stroking his broad back and trim sides, I spread my legs.



“Hmm, that’s it Baby; now doesn’t that feel better?” I whispered and felt his hardon against my mons. A few muffled grunts later, he relaxed enough to reach and pull aside a few locks of my hair.



“I’m not hurting you, am I?”



“No Baby; not in the slightest. Actually here, try and relax,” I said, now able to wrap my legs around him. Wiggling my pelvis against his fully formed cock, I felt his boxers open, ever-so-slightly. I rocked the two of us just enough to gain an advantage and plied a diversion.



“I am relaxed–well, most of me is… relaxed,” he admitted, while I lifted his head to tease his lips with my tongue.



“Guess I’d be a bit offended if you were TOTALLY relaxed, Josh,” I smiled and licked his lower lip.



“Hey, you didn’t say anything about kissing,” he stated making a pseudo frown.



By this time, I had wiggled and maneuvered his manhood out through the barn door. Feeling the length of his exposed cock against me, I locked my legs at the ankles around his waist and raised my pelvis up and back toward me. With his thick man-muscle parting my well-lubricated slit, I pressed my pussy hard against him. It seemed so natural for him to start his engine as well.



“I’m sorry. Guess if you don’t like kissing, I shouldn’t really force…” he stopped me in mid pout with a full-on, full-mouth osculation that took my breath away. Scraping my embedded nails slowly from the center of his back to the sides, I lost myself in his lust-filled kiss. Something had re-lit his fire and I was fairly certain of its source–between my thighs. Sustaining our kiss, he rose to his knees and slid the entire length of his perfect cock smack dab against my pussy.



Tearing our mouths apart, I gasped for air. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to get you off, right?” He demanded.



“Oh God, YES! J-Josh, don’t stop Baby–d-don’t SSTOP!” I screamed, as I felt my clit jockey from one side of his hot cock to the other. Shaking my head wildly, I reached down to help the process along. Rubbing and slapping my pussy between his long, fast strokes, I soon had myself on the verge of an orgasm. “Oh God, OH GODD!” I screamed, while my eyes frantically locked on his expression. Grabbing his hand, I forced it to my heaving chest, while the palm of my other hand forced his thick rod hard against my saturated lips. When he roughly took hold on one big melon and then the other I felt the damn burst.



Not since my early dating days had I rode a dry-mounted fuck to completion. I suppose dry mount is probably stretching the meaning here. However “dry” by definition, what happened next was anything but dry.



Unlocking my ankles, my hips and thighs slowly shuddered and jerked their way down his hips, as my splendid orgasm took its sweet time subsiding. Rubbing my blond bush to savor the afterglow, I still had my son’s hand attached to my boob. Amid my own selfish desires I had somehow avoided my lover’s needs. Still kneeling as in some suspended animation, he was obviously trying to counter and subdue his need to complete his own climax. It was all he could do NOT to take hold of his throbbing monster and finish the job.



“Let me do it, Baby,” I said taking his engorged cock in my hand.



Without a response, he watched like an accidental voyeur as I gripped it harder and slowly jerked it back and forth. With my hand locked around his ultimate hardon, I got to my knees. Leaning back and forth to accentuate my hand job, I contemplated taking such a tempting meaty treat in my mouth.



“Yeah Baby, just let it go. You make me feel SO good. Let me help, Darlin’” I pleaded.



Using both hands on him, I leaned down to take it in my mouth. “NO… NO!” He yelled, grabbing my head with one hand and the end of his erection with the other. I could only surmise that the idea of his own mother sucking him off was too much to realize.



“SH—iTT!” He roared, as stream after glorious stream of white gooey cum shot from his pecker like Chinese fireworks. I was at once in awe and proud, as my boy’s thick canon unloaded another barrage, bathing my boobs in homemade mayonnaise. After squeezing out a few parting rounds he re-parked his power tool back in his boxers and made an unwelcomed apology.



“You silly goose! This is one mess I LOVE cleaning up — HA!” I grinned and scooped up a few fingers full of his cum to lick clean.



“Here, I think we better head back,” Josh said, handing me a small box of Kleenex from under the front seat.



The brisk winter wind slapped at us like a frozen shovel, as we got dressed and climbed back in to front seat. Back-tracking our way to the interstate and then a short drive home, I leaned over to silent Josh. Lightly brushing his cheek, I remarked “Why Josh, if I didn’t know you better, I would think you didn’t enjoy yourself.”



Pulling into his allotted space to the side of the garage, he shut the Caddy off, turned toward me and gave me a cautious yet brilliant smile. Nothing more was said.



Let’s Get Physical +++++



The next few weeks drifted by with little dialog between Donny and myself, or Josh for that matter. The holidays came and went, again without mention of that particular night at the Family Inn. The only outward change in my hubby’s behavior was his being home nights. I assumed he either found out about our spying on him, or MJ was too busy to bother with 40-year-old married men. Either way, I had already made up my mind to push myself kicking and screaming into self-improvement. I determined it was definitely time for me to shape up.



Call it a New Year’s resolution or too much back talking from the mirror; I was ready for an overhaul. After cutting out anything in my diet that slightly resembled food I liked, I blew the dust off of our trusty treadmill in the basement and invested in a few Jane Fonda workout VHS tapes. [Personally, I always considered Hanoi-Jane no more than some goofy un-American pretentious hack, but she did hit on something worthwhile with the whole new fitness rage.]



It was closing in on March, when I finally noticed the dial on my bathroom scale had stopped bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. I was effectively holding the needle at 128 lbs. and decided to add light weight lifting to my regimen. By April, the leftover flab around my tummy, arms and thighs actually began to disappear. In reality, everything was becoming toned and tight. That’s when I knew I was positively on the right track. Needless to say, I felt fantastic with each workout. My predetermined goals changed weekly, until I was maintaining 125 lbs. with about 8% body fat. No longer a chunky middle-aged frump, I delighted in my new sexy self and even took to laughing back at the mirror.



The memory of witnessing my husband and our neighbor doing the nasty with MJ, the young amazon slut, still hung in my brain like a wart that wouldn’t go away. However, with my readjusted attitude and self-confidence, I didn’t dwell on such things. I was too busy picking out new clothes, getting my hair styled, treating myself to frequent sun bathing and relishing the latest cat calls. [One particular construction site on 12th Street became my favorite promenade--mostly younger studs with louder-than-average whistles.]



There Goes the Neighborhood +++++



I referred to our neighbor, Kenny earlier (actually his hairy ass). He was the third musketeer on duty that night at the Family Inn with dear ‘ole Donny and MJ, the 25-year-old glamazon. Kenny is actually married to Marjorie “Marge” and they have a son, George, affectionately referred to as “Porgy or Porge” [I'll explain later].



Not merely our neighbors, Kenny also worked with my hubby, Donny in home remodeling. Low-achiever, pudgy Kenny’s sole claim to fame is that he married Marge. She is a gregarious bundle of riddles. A short, trim brunette who over-dresses for most any occasion, drowns herself in cheap perfume and dime-store jewelry, and boasts a vast knowledge of virtually every tabloid magazine. She could best be described as a poor man’s socialite. I spent a fair amount of time with Marge, but still knew very little about what makes her tick. Since the parts that I was aware of are frequently laced with huge doses of impropriety, conjecture and just plain gossip, it’s probably just as well. I learned long ago that gossips are not good people to share secrets.



As ambivalent as he is and as gushing as she is; Kenny and Marge are our neighbors and, except for Kenny’s hairy ass, are comparatively attractive. Their son, George “Porgy”, Josh’s age is a living doll. The kind of cuddly teddy bear you just want to smother with kisses. Only a bit taller than me, at 5′ 6″ he carries just enough weight to be considered solid. One can easily see with those deep-set dark eyes and sandy hair, he’s destined to be a lady killer. [Of course I often fantasized about volunteering to be his first victim.]



In retrospect, it was likely a poor idea to share any of the events that transpired at the Family Inn with Marge. She must have caught me in a weak moment when I admitted observing my hubby’s infidelity. I was discreet enough NOT to mention her husband was also part of the three-ring circus. What seemed to equally tantalize her lust for scandal was my account of Josh’s part in the sordid episode. Although I refrained from sharing any juicy details I could tell from her wide-eyed expression, the idea of my son having the hots for an older woman appealed to a devious tendency I hadn’t noticed earlier.



After shrugging off my concerns about Donny and MJ as middle-aged crisis-crap, she was much more intent on knowing about Josh. “So Barb, do you think he has a thing for mature women, or just for you? No, of course, all boys have crushes on attractive, experienced women,” she was prone to answering her own assumptions. I was once again rendered speechless, as she prattled on about how… “He just needs to be exposed to the right woman; in the right circumstance; it’s all about timing…” she was no doubt concocting a scenario with herself playing the role of seductress. I chalked up the conversation as pointless, and had to giggle a little at the idea of Josh having anything to do with crazy Marge.



Pole Position +++++



That May was a special month for high school seniors. It meant: senior prom, final exams, graduation, summer break, and preparing for college–a busy time for sure. Amid all the hoopla and hubbub some kids found themselves suffering from separation anxiety. It was most notable with Josh and his two close friends, Porge and Lurch. Each boy enrolled in a different college, so a parting of ways was inevitable. Being studs-in-training, the macho thing was not to discuss or outwardly show how their eventual separation would affect their relationship. Instead they had become inseparable, with each one knowing exactly where the other two were at all times–and this was before the proliferation of cell phones.



For years the boys used our place as one of their preferred hangouts–actually our walkout basement to be specific. Donny had splurged a few years back and purchased a full-size arcade game, a pool table, along with weightlifting and exercise equipment. “If they’re gonna hang out here, they might as well entertain themselves in the process,” his exact words. In reality, I always thought that was a sorry excuse to get more boy toys for him. However, this was one time when he was right. Unless we had company over, the boys were the only ones making use of the stuff. At least until I started exercising and weightlifting. Over the years we added a long couch, a television and a few chairs, so the area finally resembled an actual rec room. The boys seemed to love it and it was a mixed blessing having them around.



There was one particular Friday that May that holds a special memory for me. I had just arrived home from work. After collecting the mail, I found a pair of notes on the kitchen counter. Meg had gone off to “hang” with her girl friends at the mall and was going to a movie, while Donny noted that he would be working late. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief at not having to make dinner, I peeled off my light suit jacket. In hopes of playing up to my boss for a raise, I’d been dressing to the nines lately. Unzipping my short skirt at the hip, I glanced outside to see Porge coming up the backyard walk–alone. Seeing the boys in my backyard was nothing out of the ordinary. The fact that he was flying solo was news.



I suspended the normal response of zipping up and making myself respectable. Porge was my personal favorite, when it came to teasing, prodding and issuing sexy double entendres. This seemed like the perfect time to have some fun with him. Leaving the zipper down, I pulled my white satin blouse out and quickly unbuttoned. Grabbing the mail to use as a prop, I strode across the kitchen tile to open the door.



“Hey Porge, how’s it hangin’?” I welcomed him, seemingly engrossed in the mail.



“Oh Hi Mrs. B; you surprised me!” He answered, as I swung the door open.



Letting my focus shift from the junk mail up to his eyes and back down again, his double-take on my open blouse was substantial. For once he was struck speechless. My white lace Victoria Secret uplift bra was clearly visible and his young wide eyes drank in each full cup.



“Uh, hanging just fine and how are you hang…” He stopped short of repeating his normal return line.



“Hmm; cat got your tongue, Porge?” I smiled, before feigning to be amazed at my exposed attributes. “Oops, sorry about that; just trying to get a raise from my cheap-ass boss. I don’t think it’s working,” I said clamping the lapels together.



“The guy must be a fool. If I were him…” Porge thought.



“Yes?”



“Actually Missus B, I don’t think I’ve seen you looking more… beautiful!” He said, quickly shifting his gaze from my chest to my eyes.



Reacting to Porgy’s over-complimentary appraisal, “Why Porge, how very Eddie Haskell of you,” I laughed.



“Let’s just say, you sure enough got a rise from me,” he nervously shifted in his tight basketball shorts. [Yep, in '88, guys' basketball shorts were truly shorts--not knee-length skirts.]



I tossed my Linda Evans [from TV's Dynasty fame]-ratted ash blonde locks to one side and laughed, “I said RAISE silly, but thanks for the compliment.” His face turned a shade redder, as my hand brushed over his package in passing. Stopping at the counter, I turned toward him and leaned down to rest my elbows. “So where’s the other two musketeers; on a mission to deflower some unsuspecting damsel, I’m sure.”



Seating himself at one of our large bar stools, Porge attempted conversation. In spite of the two nearly over-flowing goblets taunting him, he gave it a try. “Well Lurch, I mean Larry had to work on his Cougar; said he’d catch up with us later. And J-Man (Josh) is busy…”



“Josh is busy? Busy with what?” I asked, balancing my heel to and fro in three-inch pumps.



“To be honest Mrs. B, I’m not sure,” he said, casually rotating on the stool.



“C’mon Porge, you must have a good idea. You guys know when each of you took your last dump–for God’s sake!” I rolled my eyes and unbuttoned the cuffs on my blouse.



In undoing the cuffs, I “accidentally” shoved a letter off the counter. Turning my ass toward Porge, I leaned down to the floor to pick it up. Hearing a distinctive clearing of the throat told me he appreciated my rear view as well.

“Okay, but I’m not sure, I think he might be helping my mom with something,” he said, with a concealing tone.



I gave him a raised eyebrow and waited. One has to be patient with eighteen-year-old boys. Finally he took a big inhale and finished his conclusion. “See, the old man bought this new 35mm camera. She (Marge) knows that J-Man is into photography and stuff, and so I heard her ask him to help her figure out how to work it. I guess the old man said it was busted and she thought Josh could look at it for her.”



“Hmm, sounds innocent enough to me, how about you?” I asked rhetorically.



“Me? What the heck do I know about… anything?” He sounded a bit reticent about being left out of the loop.



“Gosh Porge, don’t feel dejected. I was just going to work out, if you wanna join me?” I asked.



“Ah nah, but maybe I could wait downstairs, play some pole or something,” he decided.



“Pole?” I asked



“Pole Position…the game, ya know.”



“Oh sure, I’ll be down in a jiffy to work out,” I answered, recalling how the boys like to play Pole Position.



Porge left for the basement, while I finished undressing and dressed for the treadmill. Pulling up a pair of tiny grey sweat short-shorts, I opted not to wear my usual sports bra. Instead I shoved my melons into a skin-tight deep-cut tank top. A pair of white ankle socks, head band and tennies, and I was ready. Touching up my big hair and makeup [one must look their best when exercising.] I grabbed one of Donny’s long white starched shirts for a cover up. I rolled up the too-long cuffs and tied the tails around my midriff. [Not abs of steel quite yet, but definitely tanned and toned.]



Before heading to the treadmill I decided to give Marge a quick call and check on Josh. “Oh yeah Barb, he’s over here working on this stupid camera. Apparently we hadn’t checked this one thingy; it works fine now. I’m trying to talk him into taking me to the park to take some shots. Did you know he broke up with his girl friend? This might be a real good time to… you don’t mind if I hit on your son, do you?” She laughed.



“Huh? I don’t think…” She stopped me and halfway assured me that was not her true intention. I knew enough about Marge not to completely believe anything she said.



Neither Josh nor I had discussed anything except graduation-related stuff since that wild December night. I was concerned to hear he and his girlfriend had parted ways without mentioning it to me, but I suppose it’s time for him to handle his own affairs. Filing that one away for another time, I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and headed for the basement.



I was about midway down the stairs when I caught sight of Porge playing the arcade game, Pole Position. [Current gamers might recognize the name, but not realize it was first an arcade game in the early '80's]. Those unfamiliar with it should know it’s a fairly simple game, where the driver is confronted with several racing courses that he/she had to maneuver as fast as possible without wrecking. The boys played it for hours on end.



After several months, all of them could easily kick its ass. So, to make it more competitive they added diversions. I spied one particular “diversion” when cleaning the basement last year. Pulling the game from against the wall, I discovered three girly magazines… Playboy, Penthouse, and Gent. It wasn’t until I eavesdropped later that I found one of the guys playing/driving while the others taunted him with a centerfold from one of the mags. The diverter would hold up the picture in front of them and say the nastiest things, trying to avert or otherwise distract the driver to the point where he ultimately laughed himself into the ditch. It was entertaining, watching how they feigned female voices and made the crudest gestures to achieve the diversions.



The game was also popular with females, since it didn’t involve blowing up something or killing somebody. I actually got pretty good at it, in my spare time. However, since such games were considered a guy-thing, I never let on that I could even play it. [Any degree of hand/eye coordination in women should be reserved for knitting or some shit -- RIGHT!]



Anyway, there Porge was with his tight little ass in those short-shorts bumping and grinding against the arcade for every last bonus point. Coming up from behind him, I planted my hands firmly on his swaying hips. Ignoring me, Porge continued his assault on the digital race track. I leaned in close to his ear.



“Hey, you’re pretty good at this; I had no idea…” I whispered.



“Oh well, ya know, we play it a lot,” was his delayed response.



Holding his focus on the track, I tried a more loaded observation. “Awfully good at those curves, aren’t you?” I asked rhetorically, as he downshifted to blast through another hairpin turn. “WELL, guess I’d better get on my horse. I’m just being a distraction for you,” I surmised, judging from his lack of response.



“No, I mean you don’t distract me.” Flooring the accelerator, he added, “What were you saying about a horse?”



After a series of long leg and arm stretches I stepped up on the treadmill. Flipping the key, I punched in my program and was off and jogging. The noisy motor drowned out any other sounds within a 20-foot radius, so I was surprised with a tap on my shoulder.



“Just wanted to let you know, you weren’t distracting me,” he mouthed. I shook my head and shrugged.



“DISTRACTING ME!” He yelled like I was deaf.



Pulling back my long hair, I removed two earplugs. “What’s that Porge?”



“Sorry, I just meant you weren’t dis-TRACTING!” His voice still surged, as I powered down the treadmill.



“Gosh Porge, I heard ya the second time!” I said, climbing off the horse. “What is it anyway? Do you need a distraction, is that it? Because, when it comes to distractions, I’m your girl!” I winked.



Red-faced again, Porge’s eyes scanned my white shirt, before rewording his point. “No, no you’ve got me all wrong. It’s like sometimes when we play the game, we do different things to throw each other off, ya know.” He nodded for me to accept his interpretation.



“And, you would call these things you do distractions–right?” I asked, as I sauntered to the rear of the arcade.



“Yeah, we call them distractions… you know like making faces, funny voices… stuff like that.”



“And these… what would you call these?” I smiled holding up a recent copy of Playboy.



“Uh.”



“Hmm, I would think THIS would surely be considered a distraction,” I said, paging through the contents. Stopping at the centerfold, I unfolded a perfectly air-brushed blond-haired honey and held it up in front of me. “Aren’t I a suitable distraction, kind Sir?” I said in my best air-headed bimbo voice.



“UH.”



“Now Porge, that’s simply not an acceptable comeback. Maybe blondes don’t trip your trigger. Is that it?” I said, tossing that magazine to the floor. Flipping through Penthouse, I found a dark-headed brunette with similar attributes. Unfolding the centerfold like before, I held it high and feigned a dark smoky voice. “What about me Dahling, can’t I be your favorite distraction, hmm?”



Lowering the centerfold to just below my eyes, I watched his embarrassment turn into amusement. [You too-cute Koala bear, I could force feed you my pussy in a heartbeat!]



“Hey, you do that pretty good, Missus B,” he said with an emerging smile that lit up his entire face. “But how do YOU know about…THAT?”



“Don’t you know by now Porge; mothers know EVERYthing!” I remarked from the other side of the centerfold.



“And you’re not upset?”



“Oh hell no, I think it’s funny. I’m just glad you boys like to play with paper dolls, as opposed to having real ones over here… saying some of those naughty things you guys come up with.”



“Well it IS interesting to hear an actual feminine voice coming from the pictures,” Porge added, glancing down below the centerfold.



“You think?”



“Especially one with legs like yours–sorry.”



“No need to apologize Porgy. I should be so lucky to have legs like this one,” I said turning the magazine to observe her gams and then mine.



“In fact your legs work even better with the blonde,” Porge further noted.



“See, I KNEW you were into blondes,” I said, tossing the brunette to the floor in favor of the top-heavy blonde. “Say, whatever happened to that little Cindy Lou Who? She always looked like she’d be good girly magazine material.”



“Oh Cindy Lewis… she’s history. Besides she’d never pose or even qualify to be in one of those,” he said, adjusting the standing centerfold’s legs to match up where mine were. “See, you’re nearly a perfect match — WOW!”



Craning my head to see what he saw, I caught him adjusting his package. “Not qualified, how so?”



“No tits, oops I mean she’s not very… endowed, shall we say.” Porge stated in a more relaxed tone.



“Ah, I see. Well, that could be a problem.”



“Not a problem for some women,” he said with a wink.



“Why Porge, are you intimating that I have big tits?” I asked with a smidge of scolding in my voice.



“Hey, I never said that, Mrs. B! I would NEVER be so rude,” the boy backed off, as I lowered the centerfold.



“Hmm, maybe you’d better go back to your game,” I urged and bent down to collect the magazines. Returning them to their hideout, I suddenly felt a silent sexual tension settling in.



“Geez, I’m sorry Mrs. B., I never meant to make you upset. Please forgive me?” Porge put his hand to my shoulder to show his concern. He had broken the invisible barrier. That barrier between an attractive older woman and a vital young man dissolved like curtain of sand. Letting his hand keep me from moving any further, I stopped and turned to face him.



“Porgy, do you know how you got your nickname?” I asked, completely changing the subject. His hand slid down my arm.



“I don’t know. I’d always figured it was from that comedy group, the Firesign Theatre that Lurch listens to all the time. That record they made about Porgy Tirebiter… he’s a student like you,” he sang.



“Uh actually no. It’s not nearly as complicated. Boy, that Lurch is a real stoner, isn’t he?”



“Yep, ‘fraid so,” Porge nodded, letting his hand drop to his side. I replaced his hand with mine on his shoulder.



“Remember the old nursery rhyme… “Georgy Porgy, puddin’ and pie?” I asked leaning in close.



“Oh yeah…”kissed the girls and made them cry”–right?” he finished the refrain.



“You were so damn cute when we first met you, I just couldn’t help myself. That’s when everybody started referring to you as Porgy,” I said pulling him close to whisper.



“Hmm, I had no idea,” he returned with a whisper.



“Only problem is… being 14 years old, you had no desire what-so-ever in kissing girls.”



“Thank God that didn’t last long. I’ve kissed plenty of girls since then,” he smiled proudly.



“And made them cry?” I asked, lightly licking his earlobe.



“Gosh, I don’t think… I never meant to…,” I felt his knees buckle just a bit, as my hand lowered down to rest in the small of his back.



“There’s one girl you’ve never kissed, Porge. Are you afraid I might cry, hmm?” I said, shifting my face to lip-lock with him.



“I-I’m not in the habit of kissing married girls,” his lips formed the words brushing against my lips as he murmured.



“Why not let me worry about that.” I said and finally raised my painted eyes to meet his.



The anxious silence that followed was overwhelming. I knew on some level he wanted me, but being suddenly confused with his allegiance to my son and respect for whatever hubby and I had was too heavy a consequence. [This was surely a Jack Daniels moment, and I wasn't holding.] Leaning back to better visualize his perplexed expression, I patted his chest, smiled reluctantly, and turned around to remount the treadmill. The deep exhaled sigh at my backside was tangible. Turning the key, I resumed my program, as Porge gripped the game’s steering wheel and reached for the gear shift. I curiously watched as he blankly froze at the qualifying screen. After a good five minutes, I knew a myriad of contradictions must be rolling around in his teenage brain. Suddenly his hands dropped from the wheel and gear shift. Pulling his foot off the accelerator, he turned and moved toward me. He had made a decision.



“Can I ask you a question, Barb?” He stood, hands on hips, directly in front of me.



“I… I suppose,” I started not knowing what to expect. He no longer referred to me as Mrs. B. and I reckoned from his dominant behavior, I’d better shut down the horse and give him my complete attention.



“Have you ever played that game?” He asked with all sincerity.



“That game?”



“Yes, ‘Pole Position’, have you ever actually played it?”



“No, I just watch you guys, you know,” I lied.



“I know, and you probably think we’re just wasting our time, when we could be exercising and getting into great shape like you.”



“Well…”



“Well nothing. I think it’s time YOU played it. You need to see what it feels like. Come on over here now,” Porge demanded, pointing his finger to the exact spot.



“Okay, whatever you say. I will give it a shot.” I smiled to be included in their man games. “You WILL be patient with me, won’t you? I’m just a girl, you know,” I said, rolling up my sleeves.



“Just grab the wheel with your left hand. Grab the gear shift with your right and step on the gas.”



“Okay, here goes nothing,” I said and promptly drove off the digital road. “Shit, I mean SHUTE! You may have to show me how to steer this dumb thing,” I added, batting an eyelid or two.



“Here, the least I can do is get you on the road, I guess,” Porge said. I rested my hand on his, before speed-shifting and gassing the pedal. “No, not like that,” he warned and put my other hand on the gear shift. “Now slowly give it some gas.” Feeling his torso against my back, I stepped on the pedal. He kept us on the road, as I fed it more gas.



After steering us through several turns and curves, I acted like maybe I could get the hang of it. He eased off and let me handle things myself. Soon I was keeping my car on the road and speeding up on straight-aways. [Gosh, what a great teacher he was -- HA!] He applauded my every shift and turn like I was his prized pupil. “Are you sure you’ve never played this before?” He asked, as I maneuvered the pixilated car through another rough turn.



“No, it’s my first time; you must be a great teacher! This is FUN… and kind of exciting,” I added, lying my ass off.



“Really? Yeah, I guess the first time can be exciting,” he agreed and perhaps amused by the innuendo.



“Gosh yes, my heart is pounding! Here, feel it,” I said, pulling his hand from behind me. I placed his hand on my left boob, and quickly reached for the gear shift. “There, can you feel it?”



“Ah yeah, I see what you mean,” he said, barely touching me. Shifting back into third gear, I returned my fingers to undo two buttons on my white shirt.



“Here Silly, you can’t feel anything; give me your hand,” I said and forced his hand inside my shirt, neatly resting it under my weighty boob. “THERE, can you feel it now? It’s beating like crazy.”



“Oh YEAH, it IS thumpin’ for sure!” He exclaimed, letting his fingers nestle under my weighty boob for a nice long feel. “Watch out, think you can handle this big turn?” He warned and let his hand slide up to cup my d-sized melon. Running his fingers over my hard nipple, I let him keep fondling me, while I executed the turn.



“I think the real question is can YOU handle it?” I leaned back into his chest.



“God it’s getting hot in here! Aren’t you hot?” He asked, as his hand slowly retreated from under my shirt.



“Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing.” Keeping my focus on the road, I remarked, “The damn A/C in this house is terrible, ya know. Feel free to take off your shirt if you want. It won’t bother me,” I nonchalantly added, as I undid hubby’s dress shirt and tossed it to the couch. Tugging the elastic on my tight tube top did little to fix a slight boob sagging, but I never expected it to.



“I might just take you up on that. It DOES get hot in here,” Porge said crossing his arms to lift and pull off his t-shirt.



“You know I’m sorry about coming on to you before. You know I was just playing with you Porge, don’t you?” I said, passing a few digital cars.



“Oh yeah, Mrs. B. I knew you were fooling with me…” I heard him answer, as he casually tossed his t-shirt on the couch.



“Whew! It IS friggin’ hot down here!” I said, sliding through another oil slick.



“Here, it’s your turn. I’m gonna check that damn thermostat,” I stated and moved away from the game.



Taking a nice long gander at the boy’s delightfully compact V-frame, perfectly formed six-pack abs, and muscular thighs, I let out an audible sigh. He began playing the game, as I went upstairs to check the thermostat. [At least that was my excuse.]



Instead, I changed from the tank top. Guessing my white, deep cut halter top would be more appealing for the task at hand; I also retouched my makeup and returned to the basement.



“The thermostat seems to be working okay. Must just be really hot outside. Hope you don’t mind me changing?” I asked.



Porge gave me a noticeable double-take before continuing his game. “Sure, that looks cooler,” he agreed, as I liberally displayed my curves by reaching up to adjust my headband.



Standing across from him, maybe a foot or two, in the designated diversion area, I offered him a cool drink. His double-take soon changed to a triple-take at seeing my large half-moons prominently aching to bust through the halter top.



“I thought you said I wasn’t a distraction,” I laughed, shaking my boobs ever-so-gently.



“Okay, okay, that may have been a premature statement,” he admitted.



“Two iced-cold waters to cool us down, how’s that?” I smiled and handed him one of the glasses. [Hope that's the only thing he's premature about.]



“So, do ya think you can make it past qualifying?” He asked, taking a long swig.



“Oh, I think so… with your help,” I sublimated, lowering my face, yet returning an upward glance and batting an eye.



“Sounds like a deal to me,” he shot me that damn sexy smile of his again. I stepped in to take my spot behind the wheel and felt his bare chest press against my mostly bare back. Revving the gas, I grabbed the wheel and felt the distinct signs of his emerging hardon against my ass. “Now I know why they call it Pole Position, or is that supposed to be MY distraction?” I whispered, leaning back to one side of his face.



“You’re the damn distraction,” he whispered and slid his young cock up and down my crack. “God, you smell good, Mrs. B.”



“I taste even better. And I like it when you called me Barb,” I said, raising my bare shoulder to his face.



Puddin’ & Pie +++++



He boldly started peppering my shoulder with tiny temping kisses. Moving my ratted hair aside, his kisses soon beat a path up my neck. Leaning my head back against his shoulder, I sensed his breath in my ear; then his tongue. My knees promptly buckled, as his tongue stabbed inside. Reaching behind to tug at his shorts, a severe case of the moans took over. He grabbed both of my slender wrists in one hand and held them behind me, while he continued to French-kiss my ear.



“You DO taste even better,” he whispered and swiveled me around on the heels of my sneakers. “I need more,” he uttered and suddenly opened and forced his mouth on mine. My moans grew intense as his swift, agile tongue swam inside my mouth. Running my hands up his broad tight shoulders I let the kiss envelope me.



Jerking my head back to catch my breath, I pushed to keep him at arm’s length. “Damn Porge, you are one HELL of a kisser!” I exclaimed, as his hot hands slid down my back.



“You have NO idea how long I wanted to kiss you… like that!” He said, pulling me close for more. Rolling my head to one side, his lips and tongue went to work on my neck and chest. “I think I’ve always loved…”

“NO! STOP!” I shrieked and scrambled to shove him away.



Turning my back to him, I folded my arms defiantly.



“What? What did I SAY?”



Glancing back at him over my shoulder, I issued a caveat. “Porge, you know I’ve always LIKED you and well, even been pretty attracted to you. Hell, we might even mess around if you want…”



“Oh Yeah–I WANT!” He piped up.



“Yeah well, nothing will EVER happen, if you continue to use words like that!” I scolded.



I felt that naked chest of his against my back and his hands surrounding my middle. “Oh, you mean the ‘L’ word? I think I can agree to that,” he confirmed and returned to more shoulder nibbling.



“Good–now maybe we can have a fun time,” I said, twirling around to face him.



“Maybe?” He asked, as I threw my arms around his neck.



“Hmm, that depends,” I led him playfully.



“Okay, depends on what?” He asked, brushing back my hair to take another lick at my ear.



Running my hands inside and around the waistband of his tight silky shorts, I whispered. “Just how good a kisser are you… in different… areas?”



Taking my cue, he hesitantly slid his fingers inside my loose gray workout sweats. “You mean like on a couch or say a pool table?” He innocently missed my meaning.



“Sure, let’s see how you kiss on say that couch,” I cajoled, took his hand and led him to the couch.



With the couch behind me I motioned him to stand while I sat on the edge. His lovely young hardon stood at full attention even inside his shorts. I thought for sure it would pop the top at any moment. “No Porge, let me try something first. Okay?” I asked politely, before running my hands up and down on both sides of his erect pole.



“Okay,” he answered, nearly shuttering at my touch.



Nervously trying to find something to do with his hands, he tried to relax. I slowly pulled his shorts down. Pulling them down further over his tanned, well-toned stocky, hairy legs, I went immediately back to do the same with his white jockey shorts.



“Oh my, what a nice surprise Porge! You’ve been holdin’ out on me, you devil you,” I admonished him, before taking hold of his 8-inch boner. [Being the same size as my hubby -- he offered a perfect cock for deep-throating.] “I certainly never expected such a big beautiful cock,” I smiled up at him, as I slowly but deliberately stroked.



His young eyes rolled in anticipation, as I fisted his hard, smooth erection faster and faster. Once I felt his wet precum from the tip of his finely cut cockhead, I stopped. “Here, hold on to this a second. I want your opinion about something,” I smiled and brought his hand to replace mine.



A look of suspended amazement swept across his face, as he took hold of his weeping hardon. “You need MY opinion about anything? Are you serious? I mean, Barb… I’m standing here about to explode!” He exclaimed, as I quickly undid and discarded the white halter top. “Holy SHIT!” He further exclaimed, as I kicked off my tennis shoes and rolled back on the couch.



Keeping my tanned legs together, I folded them back to my face, to grab hold of my gray shorts. “Sure, I don’t get many chances for a male perspective…. well, at least not lately,” I mused and slowly shimmied out of my shorts. Locking my legs, I firmly grasped my tight calves and pulled them to one side of my head. Now Porge had a nice unobstructed view of my ass, thighs and pouty slit.



“You know, twenty-five pounds ago I could have never attempted this,” I casually chuckled, as my son’s best friend got a tempting eyeful. Frozen in his tracks with a firm grip on his ready honker, his slack-jawed expression was priceless. “Well, what do you think, Porge?”



“Incredible… simply incredible!” He numbly answered, as his eyes locked on my pouty pussy.



Still holding tight to my calves with one hand, I slid a few fingers from my other hand to spread my lips. “You were saying something about pool tables and couches. Actually, I thought we might get more intimate than that.”



“Yes Ma’am!”



“Why don’t you try these out for size, hmm?” I suggested, parting my lower lips with two fingers to insert a third finger.



Releasing the vise grip hold on his reddening tool, he lowered on all fours and was licking my thighs in a heartbeat. Taking a few, long tantalizing swipes at my pussy with his tongue, he inched his hands between my thighs. “Do I taste good, Baby?” I asked, spreading my legs fully apart.



“Oh God yes! Umm, you taste incredible!” he quickly replied, between muff dives.



If I had any reservations about his youth and inexperience, they were pleasantly unfounded. The boy was a true pussy connoisseur. When merely licking my slit brought tiny moans; lapping and penetrating my hole with his tongue had me cooing with an occasional shriek; full-mouth sucking with deep fingering simply floored my senses. When he gently hoisted my ass cheeks with both hands to revel in the feast I completely lost it. Sucking my entire clit in his mouth, my outstretched legs shook uncontrollably until they fell neatly on either side of his head.



“OH GODDD! That’s IT!” I gritted through clenched teeth as my orgasm suddenly speed-shifted from first to third gear. “Don’t stop… OH GOD, Porge–don’t stop!” I demanded, as the suction coupled with his probing fingers to drive me totally bonkers.



Any brief lull in aggression was probably due to catching his breath, before shamelessly re-attacking my pussy. “HOLY SHIT…CHRIST! OH GOD, YES!” I screamed from the top of my roller-coasting orgasm all the way down and back up again. Grabbing hold of his head, I tried in vain to gain some control over the next surge. Already gushing from three major climaxes, I quivered as he used two hands to penetrate me with a flurry of fingers.



Now I was coming and riding his face for all I was worth. The roller-coaster had evened out into one, long, unyielding seismic ride, leaving me thrashing, growling; yet begging for more and more. After several long minutes of ultimate passion, I slowed to regain some sort of normal breathing.



“Wow Barb, you are ONE SEXY fuc—WOMAN!”



“It’s okay Porge, you can s-say fucking,” I smiled at the tender young face peering through my thighs.



“Okay, I WILL! You are ONE SEXY FUCKING WOMAN.” He returned a smile of his own, before letting my legs slide over each shoulder and down his arms.



“But what about you? Now that you’ve kissed THIS girl and definitely made her cry, isn’t there something she could do… for you?” I grinned and gathered myself back up to a sitting position. Rolling his eyes and brushing back lines of perspiration from his brow, he shot me the tiniest of winks. Running both hands up under my hair, I ripped off the headband. Snaking my fingers down my face and neck, I proceeded down my chest to lightly prop up my tanned melons as an offering. “Perhaps these might help you decide,” I eyed him rhetorically.



“OH YE-AH! You must be reading my mind! They-they’re fucking beautiful!” He exclaimed with pupils fully dilated.



“So, you approve?” I asked, proudly thrusting my chest forward before generously shaking my full, round, meaty mounds.



“Approve isn’t the word! I mean, you know there are guys that would pay big money just for a look at one of those! “Honored” that’s the only word I can think of.”



“Oh yeah, which guys? HA!”



“WOW!” His one-word exclamation followed by a generous sigh was all the positive feedback required.



“So, you just gonna stare at them all day, or wh…” I started, when he interrupted. Like a lapdog leaping at a bowl of fresh gravy, his mouth quickly attached itself to first one of my boulders–then the other. As he leaned in to further consume my tits, I reached to grab hold of his rigid boner. I slowly but deliberately jacked it long and hard until his breathing became sporadic. Once again feeling a thin glaze of precum on his smooth pecker head, I knew there would be no holding back this time.



Young Porgy came up for air and shyly posed a familiar request. Climbing to his feet, I moved to the edge of the couch. Gazing up past his hand-held hardon, I fixed my eyes on his, as my hands cupped and spread my succulent globes. Once he slid his sturdy, eight-inch manhood between my tits, I pushed them tight to secure for fucking. Within seconds he was tit-fucking me with a vengeance. Within a minute or so, he was ready to blow. Young guys [God love 'em] have such short fuses.



I hardly had time to emote the essential “oohs and aahs” before he unloaded a healthy dose of white guy gravy in boob valley.



“God Barb, I-I’m sorry… didn’t mean to make a mess,” he apologized. “Here, let me get something…” I stopped him and grabbed his forearm. Keeping him at arm’s length, I made him watch my third finger scoop up an ample glob of fresh jism for a taste test.



“Umm, good! Got any more where that came from?” I asked rhetorically. Taking hold of his fading erection, I gave it a few hard tugs before quickly taking it in my mouth for the first time. Sucking, stroking and taking his semi-hard cock completely inside, I continued the process.



“Oh, God DAMN!” He declared. His eyes rolled back, as I deep-throated more of his returning erection. A chorus of expletives followed as his weapon jutted to full strength. With no further need to hand-hold his energized pole, I reached around to firmly grip that most perfect young ass. Letting my fingernails scrape and dig into his dimpled cheeks, I relaxed enough to take hold of Sir Rigid with my throat muscles. Considering it payback for taking me to Orgasmland, I rewarded his cock with my personalized version.



“I NEVER! I CAN’T….HOLY SHIT, DON’T EVER STOP! GOD DAMN!” Porge nearly screamed, as my throat treated his cockhead to a guided tour of Climax City. Once I sensed his meat starting to throb, I slid my finger just inside his asshole, while my other hand swept around to fondle his balls. Grabbing my ratted locks tight with both hands, he thrust his pelvis forward again and again, until the momentum shoved me off the couch.



A sudden gush of warmth filled my throat, while his cock powered deeper. Holding on for dear life, his pelvis shook like crazy. I gagged hard when his cock spewed forth a larger, unexpected volley. Jerking my head back, I was surprised by yet another full gush of cum. I think that one amazed both of us, as it shot from East to West across my face.



“DAMN, where’d THAT come from?” Porge noted, as his still-hard cock continued to drip.



“My my Porge, I’d say you have amazing hidden resources!” I laughed, wiped and tasted the extra cum from my cheeks and around my lips. “If I thought you had any more, I’d say maybe you ought to fuck me,” I noted in passing.



“Hey, I’ll make more! Look, I’m ready if you are!” He stated, not in the form of a question.



I got up from the floor to head for the bathroom, when he grabbed my wrist. “Porge, what is it? I really should…” I began, when he suddenly turned into a horny octopus. Arms, hands, and his tongue were all over me. Somehow he twisted me around until his perpendicular appendage was wedged tight in my ass crack.



“C’mon Baby, I wanna fuck that sweet pussy of yours, SO bad,” he whispered and grabbed hold of my jugs from behind.



“You’re sure about this?” I returned, grasping his hand to tighten his grip.



“OH YEAH! I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said.



I took his hand from mine and turned him to sit on the couch. Kneeling down with a knee on either side of him I lowered myself to accept his ready weapon. Parting my lips I eased down on it. “There now; does that feel good?” I asked, while his young pole filled my mature hole.



“God YES! It feels fanTAStic!”



“In case you wondered, it feels good to me too,” I cooed, rolling my pelvis back and forth. Taking hold of my jugs in both hands, his tongue took an equal turn at each nipple. “Suck ‘em hard, Porge. Yeah, like that!” I urged him, as I started riding his cock harder and faster.



“Damn, I love your fucking boobs!” He said, between sucks.



I stopped in mid-fuck and pulled back.



“What? What’d I say?” He asked, realizing he’d done something in error. Going back over his previous statement, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise!” He begged, upon discovering he had inadvertently used the only four-letter “L” word I would not tolerate.



“That’s better,” I accepted his apology. “Now, let’s try something different, shall we?” I said and climbed off his lap.



“Okay, I guess…whatever you say?” He watched as I got up, spun around, and spread my legs to have him dick me from behind.



“I need you to fuck me hard, Baby,” I admonished, and came down roughly on his cock.



“Hey, no problem!” Porge kept repeating “no problem” as I slammed myself harder and faster into his crotch. Grabbing my hefty hangers for leverage, I must admit he gave it his best.



We must have hard-fucked like this for over ten minutes or so, when I noticed an imposing shadow at the windowed door of our walk-out. I dare not slip a stroke, as I leaned a bit from side to side for a better look at our eavesdropper. I recognized it was definitely a male but not my hubby and too tall to be my son. The stranger seemed comfortable enough, standing and blocking the window’s glare to gain a better view.



Even as it became clearer who the intruder was, I opted not to share it with Porge. Besides the fact that my little fuck-buddy was busy building up to another hot climax, I knew his view was obstructed–and being watched by Lurch was kind of a turn on. Actually I suppose it was a real turn on, getting fucked by Josh’s buddy while his other friend watched. As Porge’s stiff cock raced in and out of my saturated pussy, I threw my head back and let my boobs fly wildly for Lurch’s viewing pleasure.



The whole erotic scene would have played out perfectly, complete with a juicy cum-filled climax, if it hadn’t been for Lurch. Whether he dropped something or pressed too hard against the door, he made a loud enough noise to catch Porge’s attention. Once I felt the boy stiffen, I knew it wasn’t like before.



“Oh my God, Porge… it’s Lurch!” I artificially exclaimed and nearly jumped off Porge’s lap.



“Oh SHIT!” Porge yelled and grabbed up a few discarded clothes before racing to the bathroom.



Realizing I had no time to dress, I slipped into Donny’s long-sleeved white shirt. It covered all the important parts. I was working on the middle buttons as Lurch opened the sliding glass door.



“Well now, what do we have here?” He asked a bit nervously.



“Oh, hi Larry — not much, just doing some cleanup. How you doin’?” I asked, bending to pick up a discarded halter top and workout shorts.



He’s Creepy and He’s Kooky +++++



“Just a little cleanup you say?” He asked suspiciously.



“Yeah, gosh isn’t it just blistering hot out there today?” I asked, trying to nonchalantly shove Porgy’s shorts under the couch.



“Yeah it’s hot. Not NEAR as hot as it is in here, I’d say,” Lurch surmised, as he approached me. The super-tall 6’5″ 20-year-old boney kid bent over to retrieve the pair of silk basketball shorts.



“Ya know I was just saying how uncommonly warm it is inside; must be bad A/C or something,” I lamely suggested, as Lurch closed in on me.



“And you were saying that to… who?” He stated before shoving Porge’s shorts in my face.



“Hmm, I wonder who those are?” I said with furrowed brow.



“I don’t know. Let’s see; they look like Porge’s… interesting. Also interesting that you’re pretty much as I always imagined,” he said, fiddling with the top button of my shirt.



“Oh really Larry, and what is it you always imagined?” I frowned and brushed his boney fingers away.



“That, when it comes down to it, you ARE a total slut,” he said with confidence.



With that comment I turned away from him and headed toward the stairway. “Well, I suppose you can have your opinion–free country and all of that. But now Larry, I think you should leave,” I said turning toward him one last time to show my disdain.



In one of his giant steps he was next to me before I could reach the staircase. “I’m not going anywhere, Slut!” He shouted and ripped open my shirt, tearing the top three buttons off.



“Stop it Larry; leave me alone!” I shouted back, grabbing my collar.



“Sure, I’ll leave you alone; just admit you are a fucking slut,” he demanded and took hold of my wrist.



“I’ll do no such thing! Let GO!” I yelled, trying to wrist-twist out of his grip.



Struggling to break free from the imposing kid only seemed to make it easier for him to gain more control. Gripping my other arm, he cross-armed me from behind. This produced the undesired effect of forcing my chest forward, exposing more than just my cleavage. I was reduced to hurling expletives and trying to stomp on his feet. However, there was no eluding the mismatch in our sizes.



“You really must think I’m not only blind but a complete idiot, Mrs. B!” Lurch chuckled, as my tits swung to and fro, barely secure in the shirt thanks to one remaining button.



“I don’t know what you THOUGHT you saw, but I/WE were just working out, you asshole!” I half-shouted between labored breaths.



“The two of you…working out… naked?”



“YES!”



“Oh really… with his little prick buried in your old pussy?”



“FUCK YOU!” I shot back and finally nailed his instep with my heel.



“OW!” He yelled and broke his one-handed grip on my wrists.



There was a split-second at that point when I noticed I was free from his clutches. As he lifted his foot to rub away the pain, I quickly turned again toward the stairs. Somehow, in that split-second, his other arm shot out like a frog’s tongue to grab hold of my/Donny’s shirt. Rubbing his foot with one hand, the other tugged and further ripped the shirt. Screeching to high-heaven, I felt myself falling, as both hands pulled and tore away the decimated shirt.



Within seconds, I was virtually naked, flat on my back, and drumming my fists on his chest. Straddling my tummy, he soon had my arms and fists under control and had forced them to the floor on either side of my head.



“You really are quite a spark plug for a slut; what a bodacious set of ta-tas!” Lurch guffawed, as my chest heaved. Trying to catch my breath was now imperative, as my mind raced for a logical solution.



“FUCK YOU, Lurch!” Was all I could get out, trapped underneath him.



“You really should save your energy for something meaningful,” he chided, pulling my wrists together again to grasp them in one of his long, boney paws.



With his other hand free, he tugged on his t-shirt until he was able to yank it overhead. Switching from one grip to another, he was able to toss it aside.



“Something meaningful …and just what would THAT be?” I asked, expecting some twisted connotation.



“Hmm, now what could an old slut possibly do that might be meaningful to me? I KNOW! You could suck my cock, how’s that for starters?” He pleasantly suggested, while he undid his belt and jean shorts.



“Fuck you,” I replied, saving my strength for an impending rape.



“Sure, I guess if you’d rather get fucked first…” He said, and then got off of me to lose his jeans. Still tightly gripping my wrists, he somehow contorted his long frame and legs to undress with one hand. It occurred to me then I could possibly try another escape or disable him using the tried-n-true, ever-popular kick to the groin. I strongly considered just that, until I caught sight of his more-than-adequate-sized erection. He must have noticed my fleeting glance at his 9″-plus pecker, before I turned away.



“What’s wrong, Mrs. B? I thought all you slut moms like big cocks?” He stated, climbing back on top. Now straddling my tits, he slapped my turned cheek with his swollen stick. When I remained unfazed he forced my head to the other side with the big ole slinky. After a few more insidious minutes, he gave up on face-fucking me and slithered down my torso.

Forcibly shoving his long fingers between my clenched thighs, it became clear to him where this woman’s strength lied. My rigid leg and thigh muscles had all the strength of a 20-year-old gymnast. There was no way he could gain entry without my permission.



“WOW, I AM impressed; you really HAVE been working out!” He actually complimented.



I proudly broke a half-smile before resuming my abused, disgruntled look. As I watched him take a few moments for a visual inspection, I concocted the glimmer of an escape plan. “You know, for a fucking old slut, you ain’t half-bad! Actually, you’re kind of a fox,” He remarked, taking a rough grab or two at my melons.



“You’re just full of compliments, aren’t you, ASSHOLE!” I shot back, while he continued fondling me.



“Look, we both know I saw you fucking Porge; personally I believe you were doing it for my benefit.”



“Oh really?” I replied through clenched teeth.



“Yes, really. And, the way I figure it, you were pretty damn close to getting off, weren’t you?” He half-whispered in my ear.



“That’s none of YOUR fucking business!”



“Hey Slut, I’m making it my business! Or maybe you’d rather explain all of this to Josh or that limp-dick husband of yours, hmm?” His grip on my wrists loosened, as my eyes locked onto his sunken, deceiving eyes.



“You wouldn’t dare…” I pleaded. “Larry, you can’t DO that. Josh must NEVER know!” I grabbed his bare shoulders to make my point.



“Well, I don’t know. You ARE quite attractive; but you’re hardly being persuasive,” he suggested, shaking his head in fake dismay.



Let’s Make A Deal, Asshole! +++++



It was painfully obvious. There was only one form of payment that could possibly buy his silence. “Okay Lurch; what is it? You want to fuck me? Will that do the trick?” My eyes glanced aside at the mere thought.



“Sure, that’d be sweet. Actually I was kinda thinking YOU would do the honors,” he further suggested and climbed off of me.



Climbing to my feet, I finally relaxed enough to catch my breath and assess the task at hand. Without a word, I stepped toward him and reached to undo his belt and jean shorts. “Remember, not a word of any of this to Josh, you promise!” I spelled out the terms of our unholy contract, as I yanked down his shorts and briefs. Dropping to my knees, I took hold of his imposing hardon.



Just before I took his cock in my mouth Larry brushed my hair to one side. Entangling his long fingers in my feathered locks, he raised my face to his. “You really ARE a slut, aren’t you, Mrs. B?”



My silent response was to wink and suddenly impale my mouth with about half of his 9-inch cock.



I immersed myself for the following five-minutes in treating my son’s second closest friend to the epitome of my oral talents. Lurch’s foul mouth poured out every degrading expletive he could conjure up, as I complied and took more and more of his full erection down my gullet. Sometime during the same five minutes, a petulant Porge emerged from the bathroom.



“Hey Man, what the fuck are you doing? You’ll smother her!” Porge barked, as he worked up enough courage to confront his too-tall friend.



“Fuck you Porge! Can’t you see the slut loves cock. That’s it Baby, suck that big cock all the way — YEAH! See, she fucking loves it!” Lurch spouted, as I eagerly twisted and deep-throated his entire thick boner. Long, white ribbons of precum-laced saliva tumbled out and down my chin. Rubbing the decadent cream over my tits, I reached with my other hand to fondle Porge’s package. It wasn’t long before I had a strangle hold on both of them. Porge seemed amazed at first with my obvious change of persona. No longer the middle-aged seductress, I had morphed into every healthy teenaged boy’s ideal of a mature cum-loving nymphomaniac.



After slobbering over each of their sturdy young cocks for about five minutes, Lurch pulled his boner away. He had his sights set on my ass, and was quick to line up for some rear-entry action. Falling to his knees behind me, he smacked my ass hard. “The bitch wants it doggy-style,” he ridiculed, spreading my cheeks.



Ignoring his vulgarity, I doubled my efforts on Porge’s dick, while shaking my ass for their entertainment. Lurch’s greased long cock met with virtually no friction, as he forcefully buried it deep in my pussy. “Oh YEAH, you fucking whore; take ALL of that fucking cock!” He bellowed, as he gripped my hips. The full length of his sizable tool pounding my snatch made it harder for me to concentrate on Porge’s slippery hose. When I endeavored to trap it in my mouth, Lurch’s power tool delivered one bone-jarring jolt after another. Dropping my head from any further attempts, I shifted my sole intent to letting Lurch machine-gun fuck me.



My full jugs hung and swung into each other like two huge fleshy cogs rotating in perfect harmony, as his cock raced in and out of me. “Oh GOD YES! Fuck ME! Fuck me HARD! HARDER!” I shouted, as I glared back into his sweaty face.



“God DAMN, this is ONE CRAZY bitch we’ve got here, Porge!” Lurch cackled, as he reamed me out.



“Uh yeah, I g-guess so,” Porgy replied in utter astonishment.



“I DO believe she could handle BOTH of us, Man,” Lurch added, slowing down the pace.



“You think?” Porge asked as if his friend could possibly be serious.



“EASY Man!” The tall, gangly boy stopped abruptly, pulled out and took a seat on the couch. “How ’bout it Bitch; you up for a little DP?” He asked massaging his weapon.



“You guys are NUTS! I think we are quite done!” I insisted and climbed to my feet.



Glancing at both of their ready hardons, I wondered if that statement would hold any water. Besides, the idea of doing both of them did intrigue me a little [okay, a lot]. Folding my arms across my boobs, I feigned boredom. Lurch leaned back on the couch, while Porge slowly edged close to me.



“Hell Man, she’s not going anywhere; bring that sweet ass over here,” Lurch commanded, sat up, and lunged his lower half forward. “That’s it Porge, let me at that ASS!” He instructed and took hold of my cheeks. Bending down to take Porge’s cock in my mouth again, I felt two big hands spread my cheeks. Straight-legged, I swept my hand between my thighs to finger my saturated pussy. That’s when I felt Lurch’s tongue circling my asshole, then his finger–no, two fingers sliding inside. Who would have EVER thought my son’s friends could be THAT filthy–certainly not me! However, I knew from experience to never trust the shy, quiet types. So I wasn’t entirely amazed when Lurch’s large hands maneuvered my legs and thighs and lowered my ass slowly onto his waiting erection.



“Oh my God, no!” I objected half-heartedly, as his hands on my hips pressed the issue further.



“Man, she doesn’t want it like that, can’t you see?” Porge warned with all the sincerity of a belated rubbernecker at a train wreck. Obviously he’d only seen such things in some porn magazine.



“Oh really, Man? Look Porge, NO HANDS!” Lurch replied. Completely letting go of my hips, I continued to lower myself and fill my ass with his long cock.



Feeling myself falling backwards, I readjusted slightly when Lurch reached to grab my thighs. “WHOA, talk about TIGHT! Come here Man and nail that sweet pussy.” Lurch ordered and I was no position to object. Porge on the other hand was at first reluctant to add his meat to the mix. Facing us, holding on to his boner, he was dumb-struck at what to do next. “Well, what’s the problem, Porge?” Lurch wondered, as I took more and more of his honker up my ass. “God Man, it’s not a Vag-O-Matic–it won’t chew up your wiener and spit it out in chunks; go ahead!”



I broke a half-smile at Lurch’s curious comparison and returned another knowing wink at the young lad before me. Porge took a giant step forward and slid the length of my pussy with his average sized tool. “Yeah Baby, put it in me. Oh YEAH, just like that!” I implored, as he split my lips.



With both cocks neatly imbedded inside my pussy and ass, it wasn’t long before the guys got in gear, so to speak. Actually it amazed me how well they worked in tandem. I was old enough to have already experienced and appreciated mind-numbing sex. However, these young lads were merely at the threshold, as they humped and generally hard-fucked their friend’s mother to a series of full-blown orgasms.



Trying to sustain one of those sweet orgasms, I threw my arms around Porge’s neck. Latching on to Porgy’s muscular frame for dear life, he pulled me up and off the couch. This disengaged me from Lurch, at least temporarily. Locking my arms around the shorter boy’s neck, I rode his pogo stick high and tight. “OH GAWD! f-FUCK ME!” I screamed, while his strong arms and hands held me aloft. Pressing my jugs tight against his chest, I felt Lurch’s demanding weapon crease my crack from behind. When the taller boy raised me even higher to reinsert his slick stinky cock I felt my whole spine lengthen. “G-G-GOD DAMN SHIT!” I cried, as Lurch powered his beast deep in my rectum.



Tidal waves of pain and pleasure raced through me for the next several sadistic minutes. I was especially taken with their strength and endurance, as they held my 120-lb. body up for so long. “You guys are fucking a-MAZing!” I voiced, as they pulled out.



“Here Slut, I’ll show you amazing,” Lurch said, pulling my head to its appointed task.



“Okay, OKAY; I’ve seen enough porn movies. I GET the fucking idea!” I scowled, but went to my knees in front of them.



“Good, then you know what we want, Slut,” his sense of urgency and death-grip on my hair meant any further discussion was pointless.



“What the hell, Man? Why are you treating her like that?” Porge commiserated but hardly deterred him from quickly jacking his own cock to the point of no return.



Deep guttural moans and grunts started, followed soon with creamy white cum shots to my face. Yanking my head back to force my mouth open, Lurch unloaded several short blasts of globular icing. “Mmm, mmmm,” I lapped up and savored every starchy spill.



“That’s it Slut, suck it ALL down!” Lurch shouted and forced his raging hose in my cum-rich mouth.



As I accomplished the obligatory suck-n-clean on Lurch’s sausage, Porge escalated his final barrage of yummy stuff. A long, white band crossed my nose and cheeks. Gripping the taller boy’s cock, I whipped it from my mouth and switched to Porge’s spewing tool. [I still contend, "The shorter the cock, the greater the load."]



One, last suck-n-clean for both dicks and I reissued my terms. “Remember what you promised…not a word about this to ANYONE! If I hear even a hint about this, I’ll swear you’re a couple of lying queers, and that I can prove it!” I seriously remarked in no uncertain terms, as I pulled my clothes back on.



“Hey, no problem here, Mrs. B. But ya better watch out for that one–he has some weird tendencies, ya know,” Lurch laughed.



“Hey, FUCK YOU, Man,” Porge shot back in defense.



“It’s okay Sweetheart, your secret is safe with me,” I mocked, hoping to lighten the moment.



“Fuck you both…geeze,” Porgy blushed and pulled his t-shirt on.



Fit To Be Tied +++++



Some may wonder what happened to Donny and any further attempts at achieving marital bliss, following his cheating on me and I on him. As many a married woman once quoted, “One does what one must do for hearth and home.” [or some such garbage] Anyway, yes. Just as Donny’s deception was a cruel blow to my ego, my double-dose of guilt about nearly raping my son and succumbing to my wanton desires with his buddies was equally crushing. I pretty much considered both indiscretions a wash.



The subsequent sex with Donny may have been less amorous and less intense due to the recent strain on our relationship, but Donny and I have always been mostly compatible between the sheets.



It was one of those compatible early Saturday early mornings in August, when my hubby surprised me. Catching the smell of a fresh-cut lawn, I was able to deduce two things behind my lazy eyelids. Donny must be working on the lawn and it must be after 10 A.M. Flipping the sheet off with my toes, I rolled to pull myself out of bed. That’s when he hit me with the first surprise.



“Hey, where are you going? I was about to have breakfast,” Donny whispered and shucked one of my legs aside. Diving head-first between my thighs, he started yanking on my panties.



“Well now, I thought sure you were already up and about,” I said, long-stretching from head to toe.



“Ooh Baby, I’m definitely UP and I’m ALL about you and that hot snatch!” His jokes are always so endearing–not funny–just endearing. I was sans panties in a heartbeat. In another heartbeat his mouth and tongue were buried in my less-than-savory morning pussy. [That particular nuance never seemed to dissuade him, once his morning wood dictated the itinerary.]



“Goodness, you’re full of surprises aren’t you?” I schmoozed rhetorically, while he attacked my labia with a vengeance. Shoving a few fingers inside my hole he stepped up his award-winning tongue work.



“I’m just getting started on you, Baby,” he answered between long licks.



“Hmm, what’s the instant fascination–not that I’m complaining,” I stretched and combed my fingers through his graying temples.



“You never cease to fascinate me, Baby. I thought I should show my appreciation and celebrate the “new you”, he added.



“The new me, huh. It’s been months now and you’ve finally noticed?” I quizzed and spread my legs for better access.



“You always look good, but now you look REAL good, Baby!” He added, lightly nipping my clit with his teeth.



“GOD, I LOVE THAT–don’t stop,” I urged and bore down on his mouth.



Plunging his fingers deeper, he locked my clit between his lips and tongued the very tip of it. This particular procedure, as he well knows, literally sends me to the fucking moon on gossamer wings. “Oh GOD, don’t STOP!” I screamed and ran my calves up and down his torso like crazy. I was so close to Nirvana, when the asshole suddenly stopped!



“You know how we’ve talked about trying different things and stuff,” he started.



“Right, sure, whatever. Couldn’t you just finish… I mean can’t we just…” I begged like a bitch-in-heat.



“Soon enough, Baby. Here let’s try this,” he said, reaching under the bed for four long nylon ropes of varying lengths.



“Are you serious? I really need you to finish what you started,” I tried to reason, as he tied my wrists from one bed post and then the other. “Besides, you know we’ve tried this before, Honey.” [the old fantasy fuck scenario.]



“I know, I know; it will be different THIS time–much better,” he figured, as he bound and stretched each of my ankles to their prearranged posts. “Now for the “fun” part,” he whispered and pulled out a long, red bandanna.



“And what’s that for?” I knew all too well, as he adeptly found each bandanna end and twist-rolled it into a neat blindfold. “You really think this is necessary?” I asked as he tied it around my head and fixed it to cover my eyes. It’s funny how being deprived of one sense for even a few seconds can have such an immediate effect on the other senses.



Suddenly my hearing became acute. I heard a distant lawnmower stop. I hadn’t even dawned on me until that moment that someone had been mowing. I heard birds chirping, a distant dog barking, and the distinctive sound of the lens cap of a handycam. A light breeze from an open window slowly bathed my spread-eagled nakedness.



“Are you cold or anything?” Donny asked.



“Anything? Well yes, you’ve got me horny as hell,” I admitted. “Anything special you can do for that, hmm?” I added, twisting myself and shaking my tits in his general direction.



“Damn you look so helpless and sexy like that!” Donny said, as I heard his voice trail away.



The next sound I heard was the unique squeak of the second drawer of my nightstand table. Turning my head sharply toward the sound, I tried my best to conceal a smile. Burrowing my ass into the mattress and shaking my upper body to best effect, I resigned myself to playing his little game. “So, you like me helpless, Baby?” I pouted. “You know anyone could just do anything to me right now; is that what you want?”



The next sensation was somewhat expected, as I felt trusty old Hank’s Crank sliding up my inner thigh. The upper half of the mattress sagged. Almost simultaneously I felt Hank nestling itself just inside my slick lower lips. “Anyone?” Donny whispered. I nodded and felt his cockhead on my cheek. Turning my face, I opened my mouth. Running my tongue over my lips was an open invitation. “ANYthing?” He inquired and suddenly shoved Hank’s 10″ rubber replica about halfway into my well-lubed vagina.



My mouth flew open in surprise. “Yes, YES they could do ANYTHING! Oh my G..”



He muffled my response, shoving his 8″ woody deep in my mouth. I fought off the urge to gag, as my hubby shifted his knees to lean over and fill my throat with his full erection. “Guess who I found the other day, Baby?” He asked rhetorically, as my throat relaxed and then contracted around his pole.



“MMmm,” was my hummed reply. When he shoved the dildo deeper I felt my entire pelvis quiver and tried hard to catch my breath through my nose. The bonds on my wrists and ankles tightened as my limbs shook involuntarily. Suddenly a gust of wind swept over me, with a renewed whiff of freshly mowed grass. In my heightened sensual state, I had to assume it had to be a stiff breeze coming from the window, since I knew the kids were both away on sleepovers.



“Old friends are the best, don’t you agree?” Donny mentioned with a degree of aroused anticipation in his voice, as he started fucking me with Hank’s long, thick Crank.



“Mm, MMM!” I fully agreed, which prompted him to give equal time to fucking my mouth.



After several more erotic minutes of forced screwing, he must have calculated by my obviously depraved reactions he had tapped into my lust for a good fantasy fuck. As usual, he was correct in his assertion. The blindfold helped immensely!



Anyone? Anything? +++++



I believe hubby’s diabolic plan worked even better than he expected, as I felt myself transported to another physiological plane. Like being adrift or suspended in some hyper-erotic sea, my brain filled with visions of past lovers. Each particular lover took me to his/her peculiar pinnacle of sensual orgasm. Securely bound as I was, I still felt safe, yet totally at his mercy. I was in no position to deny him, nor did I want to. I began to hallucinate I guess: hands tugging at my boobs, more hands roaming and caressing my legs, thighs and hips, tongues licking and teasing my hard nipples gave way to a full-mouth tit sucking. All of which quickly sent me to my third orgasm.



The whole time I remained keenly aware of the meaty cock in my throat and the much larger fake one in my cunt. However I must admit, I lost a clear sense of whose probe(s) they were attached to.



The ever-fucking cock in my love hole, totally saturated with my juices, suddenly fell out. “What had I done wrong?” My subconscious wondered, when the throbbing one in my mouth expanded and exploded a torrent of hot cum. Trying my best to suck and swallow every bit of its morning nectar, I felt my favorite fucking toy now rimming my asshole. “Oh God YES! Fuck my ass!” I was finally able to annunciate.



“Ask and you shall receive,” I heard a voice say–Donny’s voice? Yeah, it had to be Donny. That new-mown grass smell became more pronounced, as I felt Hank’s Crank filling my posterior. I thought I felt the mattress give way, first at my feet then at my head, but decided I must be dreaming. My immediate concentration was on that glorious rubber honker making its way up my poop shoot. Being more than a little familiar with that particular tool’s length and girth, I stretched and maneuvered to take it all. Mission accomplished, I let out a lusty sigh of contentment.

“Ooh Honey, you’re so good to me,” I smiled when his hands kneaded and fondled my jugs.



“You want more, Baby?” He asked, as I felt the hands slide down my trim tummy. Fingers massaged my mons, before parting my tender lips.



“OH GOD YES!” I exclaimed as one finger split my labia and went directly to my clit. Fully expecting him to somehow duplicate his tried-n-true clitoral technique, my entire body tensed in anticipation. Hands on my heaving chest again, tugging and twisting my nipples. “How’s he doing all of that? Wait, that’s not his finger on my clit, that’s his tongue!” I concluded.



Trapped in the reality that there were now two guys suddenly fucking me I sublimated and gave in to the lust. Feeling the stranger’s tongue on my lips, I hastily sucked it in my mouth. Always a girl proud of making a good first impression, I eagerly sucked the larger-than-expected salty muscle hard and deep. He grunted, as I was able to suction the tip of it into my throat. Several more minutes of playing tongue tag coupled with Donny’s expert tongue work on my aroused clit, not to mention Hank’s Crank up my butt, and I was accelerating at warp speed to a mega climax.



Withdrawing his long tongue, the stranger soon replaced it with his hot, hard cock. His sweaty manhood was every bit as long as my husband’s dick, but with a much wider girth. This difference was compelling, but also telling. Adjusting my throat accordingly, I gave into his deep thrusts and took it all. The now pungent smell of grass and perspiration was a dead giveaway. Only one asshole in the neighborhood would be up mowing his lawn before 10A.M. on the weekend. It had to be Kenny. Mr. Hairyass himself; Porge’s father and Marge’s faithful hubby was having his wicked way with me.



Fortunately, I figured his identity at the same exact moment Donny’s tongue and Hank’s Crank helped me to reach lift off. Dipping my head to one side to avert Kenny’s next thrust, I screamed, “I’M COMING!” Thrashing up and down and side to side, I was definitely getting into these extended orgasms. Slamming my ass against the bed had the desired effect of ramming Hank further up my ass, but I desperately needed to be pussy-fucked. “GOD Donny, I need your cock in me…NOW! Give it TO me! Oh PLEASE… GOD, I’m coming so hard!”



“Okay…okay Baby,” he finally replied, but I could tell from the disparaging tone of his voice he wasn’t up to the task. This time I was sure both ends of the mattress moved. That’s when I detected frantic whispers.



“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I heard Donny’s voice.



“So what, Man. Just look at her; she wants it bad.” Kenny observed.



“Tell ya what, while you two figure things out, could you untie these. My arms and legs are going numb,” I stated between gyrations. Even they must have known by that point I was fully aware that Mr. Pudgy Hairyass had joined us.



Relieved of the ropes at my wrists and ankles I peeled up the edge of the blindfold. That’s when I spied Kenny’s unshaven face closing in on me.



“Guess, I never realized what beautiful blue eyes you have,” he whispered.



“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” I responded and reached up to reset the blindfold. Running my hands down his tattered t-shirt soaked with perspiration, I pulled it up to his extended arms. Spreading my legs beneath his chunky frame, I reached to draw his ear close. “Put it in me now, before I have any more second thoughts,” I whispered.



“But Baby, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Donny started, as I felt our neighbor’s full, wide cock splitting my labia.



“Oh really?” I asked rhetorically, as my vaginal walls expanded to accept his eager boner.



“Yeah, see Kenny said a while back how good you were looking,” my Hubby continued. “I said, ‘Yeah Man, NO Shit–you should see her in the buff. She’s a total fox!’” He said “Sure, I’d pay big bucks to see her naked!”



Listening casually to my husband’s lame story with his friend’s cock buried in my pussy seemed like the ultimate irony. “Here, let’s get rid of this for a second,” I whispered and slowly withdrew Hank’s Crank from my ass. “Jesus, Honey, you’re damn near as wide as Hank,” I mentioned before slinging my toned legs up and around Kenny’s waist.



“Who’s Hank?” Kenny asked, as his thick, short pole went into drilling mode.



“Never mind Kenny, just fuck me, yeeeah!” I cooed.



Donny rambled on, “…So I said I would arrange things, with a blindfold and everything so he could get a good look at my incredibly sexy wife. But the deal was he would just get a look–not get…”



“Get fucked?” I yelled and grabbed a chunk of Kenny’s hairy ass.



“Right! That was NOT the deal, Damn It!” Donny countered, as he stroked and choked his own chicken.



“Sounds to me like you lucked out Kenny,” I smiled through my blindfold as he jacked my legs up to forcibly ram my saturated hole deeper.



“NO SHIT!” Kenny agreed and grabbed my swinging tits. Through fate or good fortune, Kenny was celebrating the holidays early with his neighbor’s obliging wife. No doubt he was going for all the trimmings.



“Come on, Man; I think that’s enough!” Donny said with a degree of warning in his voice.



“I think THAT is up to the young lady. How ’bout it, Beautiful, you had enough?” Kenny asked, running a bit low on air intake.



I reached up and tore off the blindfold. “Tell ya what, you guys can play your silly voyeur games, but here’s the REAL deal. This ‘young’ lady is just getting started!” I laughed, pulled my leg to one side and kicked Kenny’s shoulder until he pulled away. Shoving him back against the mattress, I quickly maneuvered around to straddle his face and savor that long nasty tongue of his. Pulling Donny by his ankle, I had him line up opposite but parallel to us. This way I had access to both of their cocks.



Reaching back to spread my cheeks, I trained Kenny’s tongue on my asshole. Just as his son (Porgy) was talented at the fine art of cunnilingus, I found his father equally gifted at tonguing ass. Leaning down I jacked and sucked them both until they damn near exploded in unison.



Climbing off my perch on Kenny’s face, I left them to clean up their own mess. “So Donny, you never did say how YOU benefited from this so-called deal?” I inquired, heading for the bathroom.



“Oh yeah… he said he’d mow my lawn,” my disgruntled, yet somewhat satisfied hubby answered.



I broke into a wave of laughter. Once the irony of his answer subsided, I remarked, “Well I hope for your sake he trims the sucker too,” I added, before flinging my third finger at both of them.



[In retrospect]



Just my luck, the closest I would ever come to ever having an out-of-body experience, and it’s sexually based. Oh well, c’est la vie. Actually, if the whole sordid episode accomplished anything at all, I found that I no longer had an innate fear of being constrained or tied up — HA! After a long cleansing shower, I dressed to do some work in the garden. Outfitted in my tight tube top and super short denim cutoffs, I reached for a ringing phone before heading outside. It was Marge looking for Kenny. I let her know he and Donny were working on the lawn; then asked her how her afternoon with Josh went the other day.



I’m sure she cupped the phone to share her gossip. She admitted the new camera ploy was a ruse to get Josh to the park [wow, talk about a revelation], where she could hopefully entertain her perceptions. She went into explicit detail of how she unsuccessfully tried to seduce him in the park. Giving up on the great outdoors, she somehow talked him into taking her to the Majestic (our local x-rated theatre). “God Barb, I got his thing out and jacked it for 20 minutes before he even got hard. Personally, I think you were wrong, thinking he was into mature women,” she concluded.



Trying my best not to snicker at her misfortune, I excused his behavior, “He must have been sick or something, Marge. I mean, what healthy boy at the peak of his hormones could ever be turned off by YOU?” I indulged. She ate it up. I made some curt excuse about working in the garden and reminded her of our upcoming Luau, to end the conversation.



After working up a sweat in the garden I came back inside the back porch to the all-too-familiar sound of camera clicks. “Oh God Josh, don’t get me like this. I’m a total skuzz bucket,” I brushed my hair back and smiled into his lens for another click or two.



“Hell Mom, the guys I know only wish their moms looked as good after working in the garden,” Josh complimented.



“Hmm, which guys?” I winked, and pinched his tight ass in passing.



Aloha Hoy! +++++



Forsaking another company bar-be-que, I decided a Hawaiian Luau might be more fun this year. With the annual bash only a weekend away, I scurried to make sure the house was in order. Considering last year’s spotty attendance, I talked Donny into downsizing for a more intimate party. He seemed perfectly happy with inviting just the immediate office staff: Kenny, Marge, MJ and Rick, her new husband from California. The word that hangs in my brain was “intimate”. We had yet to meet Rick, so Donny also instructed, “We need to make a good impression on him.”



“Why Honey, don’t I ALWAYS make a good first impression?” I smiled, shaking my hooters slightly for effect.



“Yes Dear, sorry I even mentioned it,” Donny rolled his eyes.



The day of the party flew by, with all sorts of last-minute stuff to do. Putting the finishing touches on a bright-colored centerpiece, I heard the doorbell. “Oh my God, they’re early… I’m not even dressed!” I wrung my hands.



“Don’t sweat it, Barb. That’s just Kenny and Marge; they’re always early,” Donny confirmed and headed to the front door. “Go ahead and dress. I’ll get it.” I flew upstairs and quickly dressed for our Luau-themed party.



Slipping out of my jeans and top, I put on a brand new white string bikini with matching sarong, and double-checked my memory. “Kids are both gone on overnighters, the hot tub is clean and ready, food’s ready, fancy glasses with umbrellas… yep, I think that’s about it,” I said aloud while tying the sarong to hang low on my hips. A hairbrush, some added lip gloss, a big white flower stuck above my ear; and I was suddenly the dark-tanned Princess Leilani [or is it lay-on-me?].



Another ring of the bell meant MJ and Rick must have arrived. “Must make a good first impression! Must make…” I repeated and slipped into a brand new pair of strappy elevated sandals, before scampering down the stairs to get the door. A fleeting glance in the glare of the glass front door, I swung it open.



“Hi, you must be Rick; how nice to meet you!” I smiled and caught my breath.



Smiling broadly at the tall handsome blond-haired man in his mid-thirties, I held out my hand. He took it and returned my smile. Dressed in a broad printed off-the-rack floral Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sandals, he spoke, “…and you must be… Barb?” He quizzed keeping a firm grip on my hand.



“Uh yeah, Barb–that’s ME!” I finally replied and led him across the threshold.



“You’re surely not Donny’s Barb? I was told she was… shall we say, I expected an older woman with some extra padding.” He drew me close to whisper.



“Nope, sorry to say, we got rid that fat ‘ole thing months ago!” I quipped, leaning back into him.



“Well, it IS exciting to meet YOU. But, something you should know,” he began, keeping his arm around me.



Learning back to check his expression, he continued. “I do believe there is a ten-year-old island boy hiding in your bikini.”



“Oh really, how do you know that?” I schmoozed.



“Well, for one thing I can see his ass, and he appears to be aching for a spanking” Rick’s eyes never strayed from my tanned cleavage.



“Oh, you’re smooth; haven’t heard that one before,” I winked. “Speaking of… well, never mind, where’s your better half?” I asked looking past him.



Finally releasing my hand, he explained that the two of them had a close call on the drive over–nearly hitting a child, and MJ was still outside in the car. I ushered Rick into the kitchen to meet Donny, Kenny and Marge, before returning to the front to see about MJ. Hanging her head in a pair of nervous hands, MJ was still obviously shaken by the near accident.



“Oh, Barb,” she gathered herself enough to stare up at me from the open car door. With dark mascara smudged on her face and hands, her mouth quivered as she described the close call.



Apparently a five-year-old had jumped out in front of them at a stop sign and the car came within inches of hitting him, as it screeched to a halt. Empathizing with her emotional response, I was somewhat taken at how affected she was. Her large stature and usually formidable personality generally exuded a dominating, take-charge creature that prided herself on “not taking shit off nobody.” This was a complete and unexpected change. Perhaps she DOES have an Achilles heel?



“Well, come on, Babe. We can’t sit out here all day. Come on inside. I have just the thing to calm you down. Besides, have you seen a mirror?” I slowly smiled.



She quickly glanced first at me, and then into the rear view mirror, and back at me, “Oh My GOD! Let’s go!” She was suddenly up, slammed the car door, and we headed to the house. When it comes to some women and their makeup, nothing short of an earthquake can stand in their way. This was especially true in this brunette’s case. Still hiding her face as we entered the house, I pointed her upstairs to our bedroom. She continued to obsess about the near wreck, as she stood at our bathroom mirror and went to work on her entire face.



“Excuse me,” I broke in and opened the vanity behind the mirror. “Here they are,” I said and poured two Valiums in her open hand. “I don’t take these little beauties probably as often as I could, but I’m sure they’ll work wonders for you,” I added and handed her a glass of water to wash them down.



“Okay Barb, if you say so. I don’t usually take drugs, but I trust you, thanks,” she remarked and gulped them both down.



“Yeah well, I don’t know about that, but anyway… you probably shouldn’t drink with them,” I advised like the resident pharmacist I was-NOT!



“Damn, I was looking forward to tying one on tonight!”



The term “vanity” seemed to take on its true sense of purpose, as the six foot glamazon continued to skillfully revitalize her facial hardware. “Damn Girl, you really are gifted at that!” I noted, as she expertly applied excess amounts of eye shadow and mascara. She politely smiled and proudly batted her long lashes in agreement.



“Well, some of us aren’t natural beauties, like you, Barb.”



“Natural beauty? Give me a break! At my age, I’m lucky to simply paint some eyebrows on without looking like an escaped Barnum & Bailey clown,” I laughed.



“Nonsense, you look great,” MJ said, giving her thick lips a full waxing of deep red gloss. “Maybe just add a little shadow…” she started.



“Hey, I’m up for any hints from a true artist,” I said, keenly watching her handiwork.



“Well then, let’s DO it; whatcha say?”



Just then Rick bolted into the bathroom in the tightest pair of bicycle trunks I’ve ever seen. “Do what? Hey, you two gonna rub uglies? Can I watch!”



“You WISH–Asshole,” MJ shot back.



“I was just checking on the two hottest chicks here. Here, wanna fancy-ass drink?” Rick said, handing a tall fluted glass of who-the-hell-knows-what to MJ. She took it, but right before taking a drink, she froze.



“No, Barb said I should hold off on the alcohol,” she stated.



“YOU, not drinking–what the hell?” He laughed.



“Well…maybe just a sip,” she grimaced and took a healthy swallow. “Umm, that’s GOOD! This could be hard,” she added.



Rick slid up next to her and shoved his pelvis against her hip. “It’s already hard, Babe.”



MJ shook her ass against him and then pulled away sharply. “Get that fugly thing outta here. You and your California humor; you’re such a tease,” she said, letting her artificially darkened eyes lower to his crotch.



Bouncing back a few steps, he felt obliged to come up from behind me. Laying his hands on my hips, he edged closer. Catching my expression in the mirror, he lightly rubbed his erection against my ass. “Man talk about Cleavage Central! This is certainly a memorable meeting of massive mammaries, folks,” Rick declared, checking our nearly identical pairs of harnessed half-moons straining to escape.



“Stop it now, Rick! You’re embarrassing me in front of our host,” she said, but without an expected amount of conviction.



“Am I embarrassing you, Barb?” He nudged my neck, letting his lower lip glide along my collar bone. Watching his pseudo seduction in the mirror, instead of pulling away, I leaned my head back to see if he’d take the bait.



“Hey, I’m having fun–doesn’t bother me,” I said, as he slyly licked my bare shoulder.



“Ya know, Barb here reminds me a lot of a girl I met in Cal, back in the 70′s. Now what was her name… Dee Dee or Dawn something?”



“Barb, pay no attention to him. Every woman he meets reminds him of some Southern Californian porn star,” MJ rolled her eyes.



“Hey, not EVERY woman, just the really hot ones; like Barb. Now, why can’t I recall that girl’s name? I was doing some engine work for Ranger. That’s it I was rebuilding a carburetor for Mike Ranger and he introduced me to Dawn… Dawn… KNUDSEN! Cute little Swedish girl… LONG blonde hair like yours, as I recall, blue eyes, just like yours; and big hooters… kinda weird though, she had inverted nipples — HA!”



“Well, I suppose I should take that as a compliment; never been compared to a 70′s porn star,” I laughed. “I mean without the inverted nipples,” I suggested.



“NO, yours are definitely NOT inverted!” Rick stated, quickly reaching from behind to cup my tits and lightly rub my rather extended nipples.



“Rick, you’re such a prick. You know what I always say?” She pointed her question at me. I shrugged. “Blondes may have more fun, but brunettes get it done,” she quoted like it was something she had read once etched in marble. I giggled appropriately.



“Now, get the hell outta here, while we get dressed. We ARE going to hot tub it, aren’t we Barb?”



“Absolutely!” I assured her.



“We’ll see YOU d-downstairs,” MJ commanded.



Rick surreptitiously squeezed my ass and obediently left. When MJ went for her purse, I likewise headed for the door to let her dress. “He can be such an ass, but I love him,” she said, as I reached for the door. “Hey wait, I didn’t mean YOU, Barb. We need to fix those eyes, right?” She reminded me.



“Oh yeah, sure!” I responded and sat on the edge of the bed while she unpacked a colorful outfit.



“I’ll bet Donny doesn’t treat you like that,” she said rhetorically.



“Like what?” [This could get interesting.]



“You know: the lesbian thing, swinging, other s-shit…you know? God, I think those pills are working. I think I’m s-slurring my words–HA!”



“Yep, I think you are,” I grinned.



“Wow! It’s not like getting d-drunk, but boy I AM relaxed, hmm,” she gave in to the chemicals and flopped down on the other edge of the bed.



“You were saying…”



“Oh yeah, swinging lesbians, right? See, h-he knows I hate lesbians. I mean I’m a real homophobic, or whatever ya call it about carpet munchers. I can’t help it–I just am. I guess that’s why we’re not into that whole swinging thing. He’s always talking about doing it with another couple and I KNOW he just wants to see me get it on with some fuckin’ chick,” she was definitely relaxed. [What better time to prime the pump.]



Truths Be Told +++++



“So, you don’t mind swinging with an extra guy?” I lead her.



“Oh hell NO. I’ve done that a ton… I mean, I can do that ’til the cows come home–HA!”



“Well, I guess he needs to know that,” I suggested, tongue-in-cheek.



“Oh he knows–HE KNOWS! Hell, that’s how I fucking met him!”



“Oh really?”



“Yeah, oh God, don’t repeat this, but see, I was having a four-way with these guys in a garage. He was one of them,”



“WOW!” I exclaimed [just think of how she'll tell her Grandkids how she met Grandpa].



“Oh yeah, but he was GOOD. I mean he treated me real good, ya know. But the t-thing is he’s fucking hung like a damn horse, Barb. I must admit that sucker is ugly. We even call it his Mr. Fugly Stick, c-cause it’s so fucking ugly,” she cackled.



I had to laugh at her delivery. She was definitely a fun druggie. “Well he must treat ya right with Mr. Fugly,” I assumed.



“Oh God YES! Like I said, it’s so damn long, and thick, and… well, I just HAD to marry the asshole,” she busted out in laughter, until she nearly fell off the bed. Gathering herself, she sat back down, this time nearly on top of me. Recalling Rick’s imposing package pressed up against me earlier, I had to agree with her assessment.



“Well, I guess there are worse reasons for getting married,” I laughed.



“No SHIT! God Barb, you should see it. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s frigging HUGE!” She broke me up again.



“See now MJ, if you were only a swinger then you could show me–HA!” I joked.



“Really! I just need to learn to munch carpet–YUKK!”



[I'm always confounded by people who are seemingly liberal and open when it comes to sex; yet are inflexibly opposed and closed to one or two aspects of further exploration. The concept of gangbanging a bunch of rough-n-tumble mechanics in a garage appealed to her, while the idea of making out with a woman totally intimidated her. Amazing!]



“So Barb, you never answered me,” MJ asked, as she fumbled through her purse to find her bikini. “So does Donny treat you that way?”



“You mean about swinging, lesbians–that stuff? Oh, I suppose he did when we were younger, ya know. He would suggest this and that, ya know,” I hemmed and hawed.



She finally yanked out a powder blue string bikini I was sure would put mine to shame. Standing up to get her bearings she dropped the bra top. Since I was close, I snatched it up and handed it up to her. In the process I got a peak at the label…40D. I had approximated correctly on the “forty” part; she was a big girl. The “D” cups I hadn’t counted on. I always assumed she was at least a double-D or bigger. Perception is everything, even for women.



“Barb, I think you’re ignoring me, or did you answer and I missed it,” she laughed. “Damn those drugs are kickass!” She added, before returning to the bathroom to dress.



“I think I answered. What part did ya miss?” I yelled to be heard from the bedroom.



“You were talking about stuff Donny used to make you do…”



I walked closer to the bathroom, so as not to yell. “Oh well, he never really MADE me do anything I didn’t want to– just suggestions, ya know.”



“No I don’t know; that’s the point. What suggestions?” She returned.



“Just the normal guy-fantasy stuff: dancing with other guys, dressing sexy, flirting with guys and girls, occasional flashing… that kind of stuff,” I stated nonchalantly.



“Whoa, back up there, Babe! Flirting with guys…AND girls?” Her head popped out from behind the door for a second take.



“Yeah, we tried some swinging, “soft swinging” I think they call it these days,” I admitted.



Dressed [if you call it that] in her sexy bikini, she headed for her purse once again. “I know I was going to throw it in here,” her hands fished further into her medium-sized bag.



“Oh, you looking for this? Rick brought it up with him,” I said, handing her a balled up floral fabric.



“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks!” She took it and shimmied into the silky flowing skirt.



“That’s a beautiful skirt–matches your suit perfectly,” I lied. It was way too dark.



“Thanks. It took me forever to find it. C’mon let’s do those eyes,” she said and whipped out her trusty makeup pouch again. I stepped forward to face her. Even without her sandals, she still towered over me. “God, I’m such a giraffe,” she said, bending down to get a better angle.



“Don’t be silly, MJ. I’m just a shrimp. Wait here, I’ve got a stool in the closet?” I suggested and went to get the stool. “Well that helps.” Standing atop the stool in my 4-inch wedge sandals she was able to comfortably work her makeup magic on me.



“So, you guys were into “soft” swinging?” She asked off the cuff, like a trained manicurist making small talk.



“Geez MJ, you really want to know if I did it with women, don’t you?” I forced the subject. Her raised eyebrows and shifting glance spoke volumes. “Yep, I got it on with a few women. It was weird at first, but I got used to it. Actually, I found it can be quite a turn on. I got pretty damn good at it, to be honest!” I declared.



“Hey, I believe you, OKAY? I’m glad you can be so honest about it, Barb. It’s just something that makes me totally gag,” she said, penciling in my eyebrows.



“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just one of those things that doesn’t bother me, once I used a trick or two.” It was then I caught a good whiff of her perfume. When she had me close my eyes to apply some shadow, I teetered from side to side and swung my hand out to grab anything. Grasping her shoulder I steadied myself, “Damn, ’bout fell over there, sorry,” I apologized, opening my eyes.



“No, keep them closed. I’m not done,” she directed. “You were saying something about a trick?” She reminded me.



My sense of smell took over again, as I tried to recall where I… sure, I remember that same curious smell when I was doing the laundry last winter. If I’m not mistaken [and I very seldom am] that was HER perfume on my husband’s clothes.



“See, the only way I could get past my initial hang-up about doing it with… women, ya know.”



“Yeah, go on,” She urged and I sensed a degree of interest.



“I just invent my own personal alter ego. Back in college, some of my sorority sisters called me Betty (actually Backseat Betty for any number of transgressions). I just let myself slip into what I expect Betty would do. Betty was a crazy nympho bitch; there wasn’t much “she” wouldn’t try,” I smiled.



“Hmm, so you pretended to be somebody else, and then…”



“Yeah, and then I (Betty) could do all sorts of things I would never dream of trying,” I said, giving her shoulder a tiny squeeze for emphasis.



“Well, I guess whatever works…” MJ deliberated.



“Oh it works–EVERYTIME… and not just for the lesbian stuff,” I added



“Really?” Her raised voice indicated anxiety.



“Yeah,” I sighed. “But I don’t need to bore you with such things,” I teased.



“Hey Babe, you’re not boring me! This is a trip. I never thought about pretending. Well, that’s not entirely t-true. I do sometimes… well, only for one thing,” She reconsidered.



“Okay, so now you’re teasing me. You DO pretend–AHA!” I laughed, opened my eyes and gently shoved her.



“Hey, you know how it is. There’s some things women feel obligated to…”



“I know EXACTLY what you mean! Gotta keep our horny old men happy, right? Sooo, what is it for you, MJ… blowjobs?”



“NO, I love giving head.”



“Titty-fucking, swallowing, taking it up the ass, what?” I pushed her.



“No, I don’t mind most of that,” she wrinkled her brow again.



“Ah, ass-fucking, I’ll bet,” I suggested. She nodded and lowered her head.



“I just can’t seem to relax enough I guess, and Rick is SO fucking big. Did I mention…” She started. I broke in.



“Yes, yes, Mr. Fugly is huge, you mentioned that at least once,” I winked.



“Well, I can’t help if it hurts, and it HURTS. God, just thinking about it makes it hurt!”



Staring at this mountain of a sex goddess, her hidden frailty and honesty further stunned me. There was definitely a shy, warm-hearted little girl hiding beneath her rough, self-centered exterior.



“So you pretend to enjoy it for his sake?” I asked, smoothing her shoulder with a gentle touch.



“Yeah, I guess I do. But I’ve never pretended to be a completely different person,” she explained and slightly backed away from my touch.



“Not even when you’re gangbanging? Oops, I mean…”



“Hey, that’s what it is. Well, maybe a little “playing pretend” when I did that, but I’m a married woman now; don’t mess with that shit anymore,” she let out a long sigh.



“Gosh, just think of all the hearts you broke with THAT news–HA!” I winked.



“Okay, enough of that nonsense. Let me finish up these eyes. You want me to line your lips too?” She asked dabbing her brush.



Responding to her instructions, I closed my eyes again. Taking hold of her steady shoulder again for support, I awaited another feathering of my eyelids. I waited…waited… nothing. “Yeah, go ahead. You might as well do my lips. At this point…” I stopped in mid-phrase, feeling the totally unexpected contact of lips on my lips.



The sensation was so slight and tentative; I hardly believed it at first. When she turned her face to validate a solid kiss, I knew this was no friendly peck. She was exploring, perhaps for the first time. My fingers tightened around her upper arm. Pulling her closer, I parted my lips and forced harder on hers. Letting her mouth open, she accepted my tongue and took a sharp, deep breath though her nose.



I sensed reluctance and perhaps a tad bit of fear, as my tongue swam deeper into her mouth. Perhaps I was pushing her too fast. She pulled back. My eyes slowly opened.



“J-just wondered what it w-would be like,” she whispered.



“That’s pretty brave of you, Honey. So, what’s the verdict?” I asked, loosening my fingers from her arm.



Raising her eyes to mine, she smiled, “Well, I didn’t gag,” she shrugged.



“I’m guessing there’s a compliment in there somewhere?” I smiled.



“Oh God! I can’t even believe I did that,” MJ declared in her Valium-induced stupor.



“Not only did you DO it; you did it GOOD Girl! You’re a real natural,” I added, giving her a hard ass slap.



“Don’t EVEN say THAT! Rick will find out and… oh God Barb, don’t tell him!”



“Why the hell not? Besides, when I ask to see Mr. Fugly he’ll want to know why,” I snickered.



“Come here; let’s finish your eyes, damn it,” MJ shook her head and gave my eyelids several more brush strokes, before announcing she was, “All done!” I stepped off the stool and went to check myself in the mirror.



Pretty much as I expected, she had me looking like a mirror image of herself–well, at least the eyes. I resembled a blonde-headed raccoon suffering from sleep apnea. However, on the other hand, I knew the guys would love it. There’s something about the male animal that is drawn to whores with smoldering, bedroom eyes.



Adjusting our tops and bottoms, MJ warned me again about disclosing our “little secret”. “Besides, that doesn’t mean we were swinging; it was just a kiss,” she rationalized, as we started downstairs.



“I suppose you’re right. It’s not like we were munching carpets–HA!” I teased.



“Oh GOD!” She blurted out, stepping down a step. This put her at the perfect height for another tease.



“Hmm, but the night is still quite young, isn’t it?” I whispered and swiped her ear with my tongue.



Gritting her teeth while trying to collect herself, she barked at me to, “Cut it out, Barb!”



Don’t Mess With Gidget +++++



“Well, HERE they are! Geez Rick, check out these two Polynesian honeys, WOW!” Donny yelled from the family room, as we entered the kitchen. Rick and Donny greeted us with Hawaiian Leis and a couple of umbrella drinks, while Kenny and Marge appeared to be steaming in a heated discussion in the corner.



Our bare-chested hubbies had already taken a hot tub plunge and dripped on the carpet as they continued to fawn over us. Kenny made a move to join us, before being quickly yanked back by Marge. Dressed in a conservative, tropical, two-piece suit straight out of a 1950′s Jantzen’s Catalog, and her 70′s-mod, oversized, droopy straw beach-comber bonnet, she resembled a Bond-girl reject with a bad attitude. The sneer peaking from under the straw brim was tangible. I swear she would spit pure battery acid when MJ took it upon herself to introduce her hubby to Kenny and Marge.



“Thanks MJ, we’ve already met. Oh, and by-the-way, you look terrific,” Kenny’s words barely cut through the fumes, as Marge stomped between the two of them to close in on me. Taking hold of my arm, Marge pulled me out to the patio, in no uncertain terms.



“Okay Barb, I’m PISSED!” She simmered. Giving up the occasional frustration with her hat, she tore it off and stomped it to death.



“I can SEE, Marge. What’s going on? What’d I miss?” I flashed her a wide-eyed smile, trying to hold back streams of laughter.



“T-that FUCKing Dick-prick, Rick-bastard, whatever his name is… h-he…”



“Slow down Marge! What did he do?”



“He made f-fun of me. GOD, what a prick!”



“I guess I don’t get it,” I HAD to hear the whole sordid story.



“Well, I was being nice, you know how I can be… “nice” you know… a younger guy, somewhat attractive…”



“Quite attractive!” I butted in.



“WILL you let me finish!” She shot me her Medusa-special [a stone-cold fiery-eyed glare that instantly turns most observers into pillars of salt.]



“Sorry, go on.”



“Now where… oh yeah. So, a young guy; obviously attracted to me.”



I nodded but zipped my curling lip.



“He says… get what HE SAYS… “Hey Gidget, I just got off the phone with the Big Kahuna. Moon-doggy and Annette wondered if you waxed your surfboard yet?” Now I ask you, is that friggin’ RUDE or WHAT?”



It was then I very nearly upchucked an entire mouthful of rum punch all over her. “A-ah maybe the pigtails are a little ‘much,’ I offered lamely.



“I thought they make me look younger–don’t ya think?”



“Well… YES, yes they DO!”



“Then you two come in, swinging your big tits, looking like some blonde bombshell and Jane frigging-Russell on steroids… what the heck am I supposed to do? I know ONE thing for SURE…”



“What’s that?”



“There’s no way Mr. Clint-”big dick”-Eastwood over there is getting a piece of THIS sweet ass tonight!”



“Marge; such language!”



“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just REALLY pissed!”



“Maybe that was just his way of hitting on you. You know how insecure guys are,” I suggested with all the sincerity of a Warner Brothers’ cartoon.



“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. You could have something there. There ARE guys not used to being around attractive mature women,” she reconsidered.



“I’m sure that HAS to be the case! Now you just go on and be your sweet sexy self–just don’t overdo it,” I advised.



“Why thanks, Barb. I’ll tone it down a bit,” she wiped her sniffles and took a deep, cleansing breath.



“That’s a girl. Have fun!”



“Okay, I will. You know, as handsome as he thinks he is; I can’t help but think there’s something ugly about him,” she noted.



“You think?” I paused and eyed him, especially below the belt line. Without knowing it, Marge had probably stumbled onto her first accurate assumption. I was still staring and considering her supposition, when she broke in.



“But even if I let him come on my tits, I’m definitely NOT licking it up.”



“T-that sounds… like the old Marge,” My brow wrinkled [even Mr. Fugly doesn't have that good of an aim].



I lost track of Marge after that, until I spied her later that evening in the kitchen. A half-empty bottle of Tequila in her grip, she seemed to be having another serious debate with my favorite philodendron.



As it turned out, Kenny got equally stewed but had yet to resort to plant talk. He was still firing blank barrages at his too-tall secretary, while my hubby-dearest fired from her flank. Mary Jane, not one to turn away a drink or a cheap flirtation, must have forgotten she was chemically infused with the Valium. Tossing her long, brunette hair with greater regularity, she winked, nodded, and let her body language do the talking. [God, could she ever converse!]



I must admit to being more than tipsy after so many spiked fruit punches with vodka-seven chasers. Rick retreated to the solitude of the hot tub with his own bucket of longneckers. I switched the stereo from Aloha Hoy to some slow, jazzy bossa nova and flicked off the overhead deck lights.



“Well Rick, aren’t YOU just the social animal?” I asked, pulling and popping a cold Bud from his bucket.



Lounging back on both spread arms, his focus locked on the starry sky. Hot, foamy bubbles rose and rolled from under and around his muscular arms and chest. I strode slowly around the circumference of the six-seating sunken tub, until I stood directly over him.



“Cat got your tongue?” I tried again, gazing down at his atypical 80′s modified mullet. I say modified, due to his receding hairline. [Titty-tracks they used to call 'em.]



Laying his head even further back for a better view, he remained speechless. Moving his arm from the tub’s edge, he slid one hand between the slit in my semi-transparent sarong. When his warm, wet hand found my calf and started running up my leg, I determined any further catch phrases would be superfluous. Fondling and measuring my leg as far as he could reach, he dropped his hand to the flagstone. Grabbing hold of the hem of my sarong, he yanked hard. This nearly dislodged it from around my hips. One more hefty tug would do it. Yep, that did it.



Standing in my elevated sandals, white string bikini and poufy flower, I locked hands on hips and glared defiantly down into his upturned expression. “Well?” I asked posing a little for him.



“Well… do I have to do EVERYTHING?” He returned, obviously referring to my tied bottoms. “Nice and warm in here; why don’t you join me?” He tempted.



“Nope. I don’t fuck in hot tubs.”



“Who said I wanted to fuck you?”



“Oh, you want to fuck me,” I determined.



“HA! You sound pretty sure of yourself,” he smirked at my confidence.



“I know what I want. See, I want to fuck you, so you really have little choice.”



“Whatever Lola wants; Lola gets, is that it?” He concluded.



After a security glance back at the empty porch, I returned to stare him down. Locking my focus on his sexy eyes, mustache and strong chin, I untied my strings with one yank. Letting them drop to fall, my bikini bottoms settled smack dab on his kisser. He took a deep perverted whiff before tossing them aside. A long minute lapsed before he reached to take hold of both my ankles.



“You don’t HAVE to do a damn thing,” I reckon.



“If you prefer…I was simply gonna answer your first question about a cat having my tongue–or was it a pussy?” He teased.



“Maybe I should warn you…” I started. His hands stopped. His brow raised. “Just like a Timex…” I began, bending my legs. “I keep on ticking…” Lowering my crotch to within inches from his face. “After a good licking,” I concluded, spread my pussy and plopped down on his mouth.



His voracious tongue went immediately to work on my snatch. Throwing my head back to savor every stab, twist and turn, my eyes spied a slice of light before shutting. I reached to pry my tender lips to guide him to my favorite spots. A light breeze coming from the house did little to muffle our moans, as he continued an exquisite assault on my wetness. When he thrust a few fingers inside me and began sucking my clit, my eyes sprung open. There was definitely a light occasionally twinkling through the tall elm tree between the hot tub and the house.



Now I split my focus between Rick’s talented tongue and our bedroom on the second story –the master bathroom to be exact. The flickering light continued to play tag with my eyes, even as I heard voices coming from the house.



“I believe we’re about to have company,” I said calmly, before grabbing up my sarong. Standing up to retie the sarong, I searched for my bikini bottoms.



“Looking for this?” Rick winked and quickly hid them under the water. No doubt they found a new home hiding in those hideous bike trunks. The low lamps like dim sentinels shined enough for me to see a glossy bulge in his trunks, as he emerged from the bubbling hot water. Re-locking my sarong at the hip, I circled the tub to join him as he got out.

“See you guys, I told you they were probably hot-tubbin’ it,” I heard MJ’s voice coming down the walkway from the house. “Where are you two off to; we were just g-gonna join ya?” She inquired, stepping out of her Hawaiian skirt to toe-test the water. “Gosh, its s-so dark, I can hardly make you out,” stepping into the fog-laden tub.



“That’s funny, I can make you out just fine,” I whispered, before stealing a quick full-mouth kiss and boob fondle.



“BARB, THERE you are! You naughty thing,” MJ acted at once cautiously surprised.



“Hey, you guys enjoy yourselves. The water’s fine! I need to check upstairs; I must have left a light on or something,” I smiled and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.



“I’m just up to get a beer and drain a vein. You all seem to be doing okay,” Rick referred to their full drinks.



“Doin’ GREAT R-Rick! Take your time, Man. Us Three Musketeers need to catch up on old times,” Kenny said, staggering to stand straight.



“Old times–right!” Rick yelled back at them, before catching up to me on the back porch.



“Good ole MJ. The girl just can’t pass up two drooling hot-n-bothered fuckers,” Rick surprised me. “I’ll bet two of those so-called musketeers couldn’t work up one good dagger between them. So much for the good old days!” Rick ridiculed.



“You sound pretty cock-sure of yourself,” I noted, reaching for the kitchen doorknob.



Rick’s hand covered mine and stopped me from turning, “That’s an odd way of referring to my self-confidence, but yeah, I’m sure.” Pressing me hard against the door, he leaned down to move my hair aside and nibble at my neck. “Another thing I’m cock-sure of is that sweet pussy of yours,” he cooed into my ear.



“Oh r-really?” I went weak-kneed, as his stray hand quickly maneuvered inside my sarong.



“Yeah, you couldn’t be more wet and ready. We should REALLY take care of that.” He advised and directed my free hand to his bulge.



Giving his pride-n-joy a healthy squeeze and tug, I replied, “…and by ‘we’ you mean you and Mister Fugly?”



“Exactly! Hey, how do you know about…”



“Mr. Fugly?” I interjected and twisted the doorknob to open.”Hey, there are all sorts of stuff I know about you two,” I turned to flash him a seductive wink.



“Oh really? Like what, for instance?” He eyes lit up.



“You mean besides your big, ugly cock? Well, how about that she likes gangbangs, but hates the idea of swinging. She likes all sorts of cocks, but not up her ass, and she’s never done it with a black guy.” My potpourri of MJ’s sexual yeas and nays impressed him.



“You say big and ugly like those are bad things. Hmm, I know she hates the whole lesbian thing, but I didn’t know about black guys,” he scratched his head.



“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure about that either. Guess I just sensed in her a certain degree of apprehension, when it comes to “meeting” new people,” I speculated.



“You mean like she is about swinging and other women?” Rick wondered.



“Yep, but that’s one aspect I soon intend to amend,” I said.



“WHAT! Tonight?” He shook his head. “No way will she let you…” He started.



“No, you don’t get it, Rick. Before the night is over, she will do ME,” I nodded confidently.



“Absolutely NO WAY!” He was emphatic.



“Bet me,” I teased rhetorically.



“Sure, I’ll bet ya any damn thing! It ain’t gonna happen. Tell ya what, if MJ puts the make on you, I’d… hell, I’d go down on Donny — HA! You have NO idea of how much she hates carpet munchers,” Rick laughed.



“Yeah, I heard that same term from her,” I mentioned and noticed a drunk Marge sprawled out on the family room floor. “You SURE about that bet? I’ll give you a chance to back out,” I offered.



“You may not know me, but I don’t renege on my bets–especially when I’m betting on a sure thing.”



“Okay, okay… but you don’t know ME very well either,” I chuckled.



Pointing to my unconscious neighbor, I motioned to Rick. “God, I can’t leave her like this. Do me a favor, Rick and carry our Little Miss Plant-Talker upstairs.”



“Who Gidget?” Rick smirked and squatted down to gather her up in his arms. “Where do ya want her?” He asked, heading for the stairs.



“Hey, you be nice to her. She had only nice things to say about you,” I smiled and followed them. Once we got to the upstairs hall I directed him, “Might as well put her in Josh’s room.” I motioned down the hallway and added, “Now, don’t just dump her–make her comfortable.”



“Will do Ma’am; then how’s about we cut the cards?” Rick feigned a western accent.



“Cut the… what?”



“I’m thinking you and I should cut the cards… for a poke,” he smiled.



“OH, you’ve been watching Lonesome Dove. So, you think I’m nothing more than a common country dance-hall whore, is that it?”



“Oh heavens NO! I was just thinking how fun it’s gonna be to go Wild West on that sweet ass of yours.



I laughed, but knew his witty remark dripped with equal amounts of sarcasm and sincerity. “You just concentrate on the task at hand, Cowboy… then, we’ll see about cuttin’ the cards.” I shot him one last lingering glance, before closing our bedroom door behind me.



All That Flickers +++++



Taking a deep breath, I regrouped and carefully made my way through the unlit bedroom to the master bathroom. Not wanting to disturb the sounds coming from below, I slowly padded my way across the bathroom’s shag carpet in the dark. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of place that I could see. The shower curtain was drawn, but Donny often leaves it that way. The small window directly overlooking the patio below was open, but we often left it open for circulation. Approaching the window I was able to distinctly identify the three musketeers. Peering through the dark screen, my knees bumped into the small clothes hamper beneath the window. Their words became more intelligible, as my eyes strained to make out images.



It was definitely an excellent spot for spying, if one was so inclined. My liquored up husband was obviously putting the moves on his full-time secretary/part-time motel playmate. The equally inebriated amazon was restrained but noticeably taken with his high school solicitation. Listening in covert silence, I strained to see what I could through tree branches.



Suddenly I heard the plastic shower curtain peel away from behind me. Turning sharply at the sound, I caught sight of a large shadow and felt two hands grasp my wrists. My first impulse to scream was soon muffled by the intruder’s large hand over my mouth.



“You just can’t get enough, can you?” The dark shadow whispered, as my struggle ceased immediately.



“JOSH!? What the hell…” I stifled a yell.



“You’ve been waiting six months to watch THIS?” He said, grabbing my wrists tighter.



“You’re not supposed to be home. What the hell…” I started when he shushed me.



Forcibly twirling me around to face the window, he stepped out of the shower. Closing his long fingers around my neck, his other hand grabbed my sarong. Ripping it off my hips, I felt his rock-hard cock slam against my bare ass.



“You’ve been teasing me for over six months and you let that fucking mechanic eat you out after a few hours–that’s fucking bullshit!” My son’s frustration exploded in hateful terms.



“Geez Josh, you’re drunk! Let me go, NOW!” I struggled to free myself.



All the exercise, toning and body shaping I’d practiced in the last six months put me in the best shape of my life. However, my strength was no match when it came to fighting off a young offender with the drunken power of countless shots of Jack Daniels. Once he bent me over at the waist, it became a struggle just to keep my legs locked so the two of us wouldn’t both fall into the shower or against the toilet and vanity. With one hand ripping at my bra clasp, his other hand focused on keeping his cock in ramming condition.



“If you HAVE to take your fucking revenge, then here, take THIS!” He demanded and slapped his heat-seeking weapon up against my pussy from behind.



“Josh WAIT! Don’t…don…” he was beyond reasoning, when I felt my tender lubricated lips part to take him inside.



“I should have done this six months ago when you begged for it,” he figured and thrust more of his thick nine-incher in my vagina.



Holding my undone bra close to my bosom, I turned to make a plea, “NO Josh, you were right then, about everything. I was being totally selfish and, OH GOD!” I stopped as his long cock filled my love hole completely. The blood raced to my foggy brain as his hands took hold of my toned hips for ramming speed. Every second swept by pulling me further and further away from reality into twisted visions of incest I’d never dreamed possible.



Lewd sounds of love making emanated from the patio below, as Josh’s grunts and my muffled moans echoed from the bathroom. Rocking back and forth in an impromptu passion dance, I was nearly knocked off my high-heeled sandals a number of times. We nearly tumbled as he continually tried to keep from losing his balance. It was then I sensed he might be close to passing out from the liquor. Pulling my upper body back up to a standing position his slick tool fell from its intended target. I turned around abruptly just in time to see him stagger to his knees in front of the commode.



“Serves you right, Boy,” I scolded, grabbed up my sarong, held my top in check, and got out of there.



Watching naked Josh gagging and throwing up, I couldn’t help but recall countless times we’d fought the brave fight against every childhood illness and flu together. He was still my baby, after all. Back in the bathroom, I wet a washcloth and gently patted his forehead. “God damn it, Josh,” I said.



“I’m s-sorry Mom. Don’t know what got into me,” he eked out, before expelling another burst.



“Yeah well, let’s just forget about it. Get some sleep and we’ll not speak of this again,” I instructed and handed him the washcloth.



Closing the bathroom door, my mind raced back to thoughts of Rick. Had he overheard or seen anything… and what about Donny, Kenny and MJ? Tossing the sarong aside, I selected a more appropriate outfit. Considering the last few moments, I was now hornier than ever. Whipping out a pair of black thigh-highs, matching black satin camisole and panties, I kicked off my sandals. Quickly dressing, I pulled on a short satin robe to cover it all. Shoving my feet into a pair of tall, black pumps, I stepped into the hall. As I started down the hallway it dawned on me, “Where the hell is Josh going to bed down, with Marge in his room?”



I turned and had taken a few steps when I heard the sound of the toilet flushing in the guest bathroom. That had to be Rick I surmised and headed in that direction. Propping myself seductively in the doorway, I waited. When the doorknob turned I kicked the door completely open. His series of facial expressions were priceless. I stood boldly with crossed arms to accentuate my attributes, as his eyes methodically scanned me from head to toe.



“Wow!”



“That’s it…wow?” I asked and discreetly opened the robe to reveal a bit more. “There are over 250,000 words in the English language. The average person’s vocabulary is 10 to 20,000 words and a countless number of adjectives, and all you can come up with is wow? Come ON man!”



“Look what I found?” He countered and covertly did a two-fingered nose pinch.



Hearing the master bedroom door close, I leaned back slightly to see Josh sneaking down the hallway and into his room. “Looks like Marge will have company tonight,” I thought, but returned my attention back to Rick. “I have no idea. What DID you find?”



Holding up a thin box of playing cards, Rick grinned.



“Well, well lookie there, Maverick–so glad I dressed for the occasion,” I said, letting the robe slide over a shoulder.



Rick closed in on me in a heartbeat. As he kissed and nibbled my neck I reached inside his gray bicycle shorts. With my robe comfortably clinging at the elbows, Rick immediately lowered my slinky camisole straps. “I’ve been waiting all night for these babies,” he noted and took a step back to admire my exposed chest.



“Such patience SHOULD be rewarded I suppose,” I said and reached down to hoist a tit to my tongue.



“Okay, now I AM jealous,” he said and leaned down to join his long tongue with mine.



With both of us taking turns, the affected nipple grew hard within seconds.



“Beautiful–just fucking beautiful. God, I love big titted blondes!” He stated and took a good-sized chunk of my other melon in his mouth. After a few lingering minutes of him deep-sucking each boob, I felt my knees give way. “God DAMN Girl, I LOVE your tits!” He said, as I leaned back to give him full access.



“Well, I’m impressed. I mean considering what you’ve got to play with at home, I’d say that’s quite a complement,” I returned and let the robe fall to the floor in a heap.



After pulling me up to carry me in his arms, we turned to start back down the hallway. That’s when we heard voices echoing in the stairwell. Rick must have realized I was missing my robe. Suddenly coming to a halt, he swung us back around and lowered me to retrieve it. The voices grew louder. By the time we reached the bedroom door, my hubby and Rick’s wife met us at the top of the stairs.



“Barb, will you talk some sense into this girl?” Donny asked, while Rick unceremoniously let me down.



“Sorry Rick, Honey, didn’t mean to interrupt… something,” MJ said, trying her best not to sound upset, jealous, or something other than smashed–which is what she was.



“Is there a problem?” I returned; pulling my robe back on as if nothing had happened.



“I just mentioned that she and Rick should probably stay the night. Considering how much we’ve all had to drink, ya know?” He shot me a contrived wink. “MJ says they have early plans in the morning or some s-such shit,” he continued with a few slurs of his own.



Somewhere beyond her glazed expression, MJ was regrouping as I observed, “Well you guys know you’re certainly welcome to stay. There’s plenty of room…”



“I think it might be best if we take off,” tall MJ’s shifting eyes fixed on Rick, then over at me.



Rick left my side to join MJ in the hallway. “Honey, you can take off. HELL, take it ALL off!” He laughed, obviously trying to keep things light. As our two sexy stoned guests half-whispered to themselves, I wedged myself between them.



Gifts That Keep On Giving +++++



“Tell ya what. Why not let me and MJ have a little privacy and, if you still need to leave… well, that’s okay too,” I suggested and opened our bedroom door. More of their hemming and hawing ensued until I took hold of her wrist. Leading the glamazon inside, I quickly shut and locked the door behind us.



“There now, we can relax. God Honey, make yourself at home. You look ready to burst!” I added, leading her to the bedside to take a seat.



“You’re gonna just hate me, Barb,” she announced from out of the blue.



“I kinda doubt that,” I answered and picked up on her dilemma. “Hate you? For screwing Donny? That’s really NOT a problem. Oh I’m a bit jealous, but you may be taken aback at…” I stopped and suddenly recalled my surprise.



“What surprise?” She asked as I left to retrieve a large brown sack from the closet.



“You’ll see,” I smiled. Pulling a larger-than-shirt-sized package from the bag, I sat down beside her. The pastel, ribbon-wrapped gift came without a card.



“Here MJ, this is for you from me,” I said, handing it to her with a short peck on her cheek.



“For M-ME!” Her eyes widened while her free hand went to cover her lips. Sitting with my gift in hand she was struck speechless. As her eyes flashed and flitted to different parts of the room, she remained frozen in disbelief.



“WELL, you ARE going to open it, aren’t you?” I laid back on the bed and proudly propped myself up on my elbows, as she eyed the colorful bow. “I’ll have you know I hand-picked it myself; so I hope everything fits.”



“I never…” She started slowly to undo the fancy wrapping.



“Oh come on MJ, you mean none of those guys you dated ever gave you presents?”



She continued to unwrap my gift with a degree of unexpected tenderness. “Y-yeah, guys sure; but a gift from a woman–NEVER!” She said as her eyes welled up. Finally pulling the lid up and lightly pulling apart the packing she lifted up my gifts– a white-laced camisole, a pair of matching thigh-high hose, a pair of white satin panties and a pair of white pumps. “Oh my GOD, Barb they’re simply beautiful!” She declared.



Laying each sexy item out on the bed, she suddenly broke down. Trying her best to keep her lower lip from quivering, she burst into a barrage of tears. “I-I don’t know what to s-say! I don’t deserve such n-nice things!” She cried into the camisole.



“Hey now, you’ll get this stuff all wet. You want to ruin them?” I remarked, stood up and took the lingerie from her shaking hands.



“No, NO, I’m SORRY! I just don’t know what to s-say,” MJ sobbed. I scurried away to get her a box of tissues. “My GOD, t-they’re just like what you’re wearing!”



“Yep, except they’re white. Now, just say “thanks” and… hey, you just HAVE to try them on. I’m dying to see how they fit,” I advised and handed her a Kleenex. Whipping out an extra tissue I wiped tears from her cheeks.



“Thank you SO much! I’ve never been at a total loss for words, but…” She stopped, took hold of my shoulders, stared me square in the eyes and kissed me full on the lips.



After a kiss that lingered a bit longer than the one earlier one, she caught her breath. “Thank you, Barb.”



“You’re welcome. See, now was that so hard?” I said pulling away a few stray locks from the stately brunette.



“No, not hard at all,” she smiled without the previous apprehension.



“Okay then. Here, try ‘em on, Babe!”



She fought back a few sniffles, grabbed up her new lingerie and headed off toward the bathroom. “I’m so excited to see them on. I’ll be right back,” she giggled like a sorority sister.



“Oh no you don’t, Missy! I’m excited too. Why not just change right here, hmm?” I must have used my insisting voice. After a quick deliberation, she came back, tossed the slinky white underwear on the bed.



“Okay, it’s not like you’re gonna hit on me or anything, right?”



“Why MJ what could ever make you think such a despicable thing,” I laughed.



Standing tall, she took one last sniffle and started to undress. I returned to my bedside perch to watch her strip. After yanking her top up and over her head, she thought twice about undoing her bra. Instead she undid that God-awful floor-length skirt and watched it hit the floor. Undressing in front of a man or a couple of men in a bedroom was familiar territory for this trampy bitch. Doing the same in front of a woman for the first time was a wholly different experience. Sensing the tension and reluctance, I caught her momentary glance.



“This bothers you doesn’t it?” I asked



“What, stripping in front of you? No, I don’t think so,” she said, slowly crossing her chest to loosen a bra strap. I stayed silent. She held the strap forever.



“Okay, I guess it does. Just feels weird, ya know?” She said, but let both straps fall. “Maybe if you didn’t watch…” she nearly begged.



“No chance, MJ. Maybe I just want to size up the competition. Go on.”



“See, you ARE pissed about that Donny thing,” she stamped her foot with hands on hips.



“Trust me, I am NOT pissed about Donny! I was just kidding about being competitive. Come on chicken-shit; let’s see those big ole hangers!” I laughed.



Taking a deep breath, she shook off any remaining inhibitions. Grabbing her bra catch from behind, she let her tits fall. “Okay then damn it, let’s do this shit!” She shot back and then did the same with her panties.



“W-Wait a MINUTE!” My eyes locked on her pussy.



“What? It’s a pussy, anything wrong?” MJ asked noticing my eyes glued to her snatch.



“I can see it’s a pussy, but it’s… you’re bald!”

MJ eased my concern, explaining that Rick, being from California, preferred having her shave –it’s the latest “thing” out there.



“No big fucking deal, right?” I smiled.



“Not really… just tits and ass. There you go.” She nervously giggled, swinging it all quite naturally. She reached to try on the hip-length camisole.



“God MJ, no wonder all the guys want to screw you. You really DO have a body that won’t quit,” I insisted, letting my eyes linger on her full tubular tits and semi-firm ass.



“Fuck you, Barb! Get over here and help me with these straps,” she ignored my compliments.



“Besides, look at YOUR body! You’re a fine one to talk!” She began, as I adjusted the cami straps for her long torso. “No wonder Rick, and a few hundred other guys I’m sure, would love to get YOU in the sack,” she rolled her eyes and purposely flipped my straps down. Grabbing hold of my matching black camisole she yanked it down to expose my hooters. “See, look at those honeys. My God, they’re like perfectly round and huge!”



“Yeah well, I’ve never had a complaint,” I laughed and yanked her top down as well.



With our exposed globes on full display, and merely inches away from touching, I stood inflexible waiting for her to make the first move. “So…” she led.



Face to face, with our bared boulders in such close proximity, I was instantly aware of some distinctive differences. From a distance one might figure our generous boobs were equal in size. Fact is, with her broad chest–a full 40″ for sure, her 24-year-old d-sized hangers gave the appearance of being larger. Whereas, although I measured around 35″, my double-d’s were larger and more rounded to accommodate the extra bulk. Not that I’m obsessed with boobs, but all things considered, my competitive tendencies were quenched. I cracked a slight internal smile.



“So?” I echoed nonchalantly. Her slight nostril flair and lip licking were tell-tale signs of arousal, but she remained stoic.



“So, pretty much the same, aren’t they?” MJ reported, after a long glance.



“Yep, I’d say neither on of us is hurting in that department,” I quipped and recovered my chest. MJ followed my lead and fixed her straps in place. “I’m just glad to see that I picked the right size cami.”



Ignoring any latent impulse at that point, she sat down to pull on the white thigh-highs nylons. “So how did ya like shopping in the “overly-tall and way-too-spacious” section?” MJ laughed.



“Don’t be silly; you look super sexy for sure!” I stated, as she squeezed comfortably into the French-cut white satin panties.



“Hey, I FEEL sexy!” She admitted slipping into the tall pumps. “Jesus Barb, you really did your homework; even the shoes fit perfectly,” she grinned. Sauntering to our floor-length mirror, she let out a gasp. “OH MY GOD, I’M SO FUCKING HOT!” She exclaimed, fluffed her long black ratted hair and struck a few seductive poses. When she curled her ruby red lips into a sneer and ever-so-slowly peered from beneath those heavy-laden dark eyelids she really DID resemble a young Jane Russell.



I soon sidled up beside her for a look at the reflection of both of us. “Oh SHIT YES! What a pair we make!” I agreed.



“And what a PAIR of pairs. The guys would go ape-shit! Check us OUT!” MJ was ecstatic, as she lightly danced around me. Her excitement was seductively delightful and infectious. I joined her as we slowly bumped and swung to our own imaginary rhythm. Locking our arms at each others’ waist, she hummed an unintelligible tune. When she slightly let her tits brush up against mine I started humming my own complimentary yet indistinguishable melody. Standing a full head taller than me, I stood erect while she leaned down. Somehow our bodies began to mesh.



Locking her eyes on mine as we swayed together arm-in-arm, “Can you imagine what the guys would say if they saw us like this?” MJ whispered.



I forced myself closer to nuzzle her neck. She leaned back, pulling me with her. My nuzzles switched to full out tongue kisses. “Guys DO get off on the whole girl-on-girl thing, hmm,” I submitted and lightly licked her ear.



She winced like a rabbit had just made fresh tracks over her grave, but let me resume more teasing kisses. “I could never do it… before… with another woman,” she uttered, as my kisses intensified and lingered longer in more tender areas of her neck, shoulders and upper chest.



“Never is SUCH a terrible word,” I whispered before stabbing her ear with my full wet tongue.



“Oh GOD! NNNNnnnnnO!” She squealed. I pressed my tongue further inside. Her legs buckled. Falling to her knees, I kept unrelenting pressure on her and went to my knees. When she took hold of my face with both hands to pull me off, I figured I must have really pissed away any further chances at her.



As it turns out, she’s one of those old-school girls who still says “No” but most definitely means “Yes.” Pulling my face directly to hers, she held my head, turned slightly, closed her dark eyes and suddenly yanked me into a deep, full-mouthed kiss. After about fifteen seconds of well-lubricated tongue tango, we were both breathless and I was especially ready to escalate things.



“Oh shit! I can’t believe we did…” she started in with the same BS all first-timers resort to, when I stopped her in mid-quote with another full-mouth tongue-probe.



” Come on, MJ. Tomorrow you can swear nothing happened, or say it was entirely my fault. Let’s have some fun tonight. What do you say?”



“You mean like you and me… getting’ it on?”



“Yep,” I smiled, running my hand over her thigh.



“In front of the guys and everything?” Her shifting eyes said the idea was worth considering.



I nodded, smiled and got to my feet. Offering her my hand, she balked then took it.



“You two having fun in there?” Donny’s voice rang out from the hallway, as MJ got up and followed me to the bed.



“You guys just keep it down out there. We’ll let you know if there’s any news,” I barked back. That remark seemed to keep them at bay for the moment.



Putting both my hands on her shoulders, I prodded a still apprehensive MJ to sit on the bed. Taking hold of her hand, I made her face me. “I guess I don’t mind the kissing too much, it’s just the other stuff… just grosses me out,” she shyly admitted.



“Honey, I’ll let in on a secret. It’s ALL about the kissing. If you can kiss me here,” I closed in and kissed her solidly on the lips. Letting my fingers pull one of her straps down, I pulled one side of her cami down to uncover one boob. “…then what’s the big deal about kissing me here?” I asked and hoisted her bare tit to my lips. Circling her areola with my tongue, a short audible moan urged me to take more. Opening my mouth wide, I sucked in as much of her mammary as I could. Another moan came and lingered as I sucked and fondled her hard extended nipple.



Keeping my focus on that one luscious jug of hers, I reached with my other hand to lose my strap and expose myself. Taking her hand I forced her to take hold of it. Once I felt her take hold and start messaging it, I stopped sucking. Backing off, I leaned back and pulled my camisole down to fully expose my chest. When she kept her hand working on my melon I reached behind her neck to draw her face close. She stopped short and then opened her mouth to tongue my nipple. Still holding her head at my chest I echoed her moan and prodded her for more. “That’s it Baby, take it all. God, I love having my tits sucked. Ummm, yeah hard, like that,” I urged.



“You DO kiss good,” she acknowledged



“Mmm, so do you,” I replied, anxiously patting her shoulder.



“Quite a talented tongue… you have,” she convinced herself and pulled me closer for another plunging kiss.



“Honey, you have NO idea,” I teased her in mid-kiss and then pulled back to slowly rim my upper lip with my tongue.



“Oh… OKAY then, it’s just for fun, right?” She submitted cautiously.



I got to my feet, smiled with a wink, and surprised her with a boob-squeeze before slinking toward the locked door. Unlocking and turning the knob, I poked my head into the hallway. Like eager parasites the guys sprang to life. “I think I’ve talked her into staying awhile longer. The patient is dressed and ready for visitors, but you must be nice–no quick movements. We don’t want to disturb the entire ward do we?”



They dutifully nodded and silently shook their heads. Once inside, both guys stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of her lounging on the bed. Glancing back at me, then back at MJ, their shit-eating grins became even more pronounced. Rick’s feet finally found their way to MJ. I pulled Donny to the side. “Mister, you’re on my shit list,” I scolded. “Unless you hear different, you just keep your distance, okay?” He grimaced but compliantly nodded, probably only half-aware of why I was pissed. Planting him in the corner of the room, I turned back, “Just play with yourself… take a picture… whatever,” I issued a few options before ignoring him altogether.



Rick was not a man to waste time or words, when it came to the possibility of having a matched pair of whores. Husband and wife were already going at each other hot and heavy when I literally edged in between them. “Hey, HEY Mister, what did I say about upsetting the patient, HMM?” I said, shaking my index finger.



“B-but,” he started, when I used both hands to push him aside; then a few feet further.



“No buts! Well maybe… later,” I winked and then turned to administer to my “patient.”



Girls Just Wanna Have Fun +++++



“Did he hurt you, Honey?” I asked, using my hyper-sympathetic Florence Nightingale voice. “Here, you just scootch on over a bit. We’ll show HIM a thing or two,” I pouted and climbed in next to her.



“I had no idea you could be so funny, Barb,” MJ said under her breath.



“Just breaking the ice for our attentive audience,” I answered and turned toward her.



“I-I’m still not sure I can…” MJ started when I broke in with a big wet kiss.



She must have been ready all along, as she answered with a series of moans that served to intensify things. Rolling over on top of her, I heard Rick clear his throat–a clear sign he was paying attention. I slid my thigh between her legs and nestled my knee hard against her damp panties. “I think they’re enjoying this,” I said, taking a quick breath.



“Mmm yeah, keep it up. He’s already rubbing his cock,” MJ whisper-moaned and bent her knee to rub me harder.



“God, I want to see you take his cock!” I hummed and leaned up to pull her straps down.



“You can do MORE than watch…that is…if you want some?” Now she was teasing. “That’s it, suck my tits. Oh yeah, he’s taking it out,” she observed as I methodically went about treating each of her jugs to a tongue bath-n-suck. Feeling her hands pulling up my camisole, I raised my upper torso. This allowed her to easily pull it further up and over my head. Tossing my cami aside, I went immediately to work on doing the same to her.



We broke apart at that moment for her to get to her knees. I took these few seconds to sneak a peek at her hubby. Rick had already dropped those God-awful gray shorts. Standing tall, the lanky 35-year-old sandy California-blonde proudly yanked his long semi-rigid honker. Just then MJ snapped me back to her reality, so I missed a chance to fully critique his growing manhood. With the two of us dressed in no more than our black and white thigh-highs, panties and pumps, we must have looked like featured whores in a twisted music video of ebony and ivory.



I hadn’t really expected the initially tentative young secretary to be so “into” performing for her husband. However, after several minutes of slap-dancing our boobs, she slid her hands down to my hips. I did the same, until we were both left facing each other with our panties at our knees. Another series of hot kisses and feeling each up and Rick could no longer contain himself. That’s when I chanced to see what my hubby was up to. He was long gone. Hmm, maybe too embarrassed? Not likely.



Twirling around on her knees, MJ quickly did away with her panties. She then pulled me down to get rid of mine. Now it was my turn on my back. Wondering just how far she would go, I squirmed seductively, kicked my leg up high over her head. This left her kneeling conveniently between my legs. This was definitely foreign territory for MJ and she froze. Noticing his wife’s nervous pause, Rick began to close in.



As she peered down at me, I feigned all the sensual expressions required to entice any lover. Writhing my body, fondling and licking my boobs, I begged for her touch. I dipped two or three fingers into my sopping pussy and slowly brought them to my open mouth for a lurid taste. “Hmmm good, want some?” I offered. She remained still. The look of lust betrayed her staunch objection.



“Go ahead, Honey,” Rick urged and took hold of my wrist. Holding my dripping fingers to her lips, he laced her lips with just enough of my juices for a taste. She wouldn’t do it. Shaking her head away like he was trying to force-feed her Brussel sprouts, she watched as he took all three fingers in his mouth. “Mmmm, she IS delicious!” He remarked after licking my fingers clean. “…almost as yummy as you, Honey– sure you don’t want…” Folding her arms over those big hooters, she lowered her head and defiantly shook it. “No sweat, Baby. Hell, it amazes me to see you enjoying yourself with Barb–simply amazing!” Rick praised her performance. “See, Mr. Fugly likes it too!” He smiled. Holding his extended cock inches from her face, I got my first real look at the beast. As MJ defrosted, I felt compelled to say something.



“Oh my Lord, MJ, you weren’t kidding! That is ONE UGLY COCK!” I declared. Forsaking any immediate girl-on-girl action, I got to my knees to further inspect and appraise his whopper. The unusually short-hooded, circumcised critter abruptly expanded into a long, thick hunk of man-meat that had more rugged ruts, grooves, veins and valleys than a topical map of the Himalayas. It had to be a good 10 inches in its semi-rigid state.



MJ took hold of it, treating like some pitiful puppy. Watching her licking and stroking it, was like viewing a pornographic reenactment of Beauty and the Beast. “The blonde lady thinks you’re ugly, Baby,” she pouted. “You’re just misunderstood aren’t you, Pookie?”



“Oh my GOD, MJ. That is ONE OOO-GLAY COCK! That thing has more faces on it than an average totem pole…it’s Charles Bronson-ugly!



“HEY!” Rick took exception with my comparison to poor Mr. Bronson.



“I know it’s ugly. He’s my Mr. Fugly… and he’s ALL mine!” She frowned.



“Let’s not get too greedy here, Baby. Mr. Fugly wants to play with the nice blonde lady too,” Rick insisted, as his wife took more and more of his dick in her mouth. Without a formal invitation I leaned down to kiss and lick a long section of his monster that MJ had yet to envelop. The more I embedded myself between them, the more latitude she offered. “Oh YE-AHH!” Rick responded, as both of us began working on him in unison.



“WELL, there’s a sight ya don’t see every day!” My husband’s voice rang out.



I took an obligatory glance in Donny’s direction, long enough to see he had decided to document our torrid threesome with his trusty handicam.



“That’s it girls! Suck on that big ‘ole cock,” Donny directed. It was hardly necessary.



“Donny, why don’t you just shut the fuck up!” I yelled and turned back to take turns with MJ who was fully engrossed in swallowing Rick’s super-sized fugly stick. With her taking the lion’s share of his emerging hardon down her throat, I opted for a taste of his big hairy balls. Once MJ changed positions to lie on her back in our king-sized bed, I was more inclined to attack my initial prey. That big, bald pussy looked all too delectable. “You want a show? I’ll give you a fucking show!” I said directly at Donny; got up and went to the bureau.



Nasty California Cowboy +++++



MJ was solely dedicated to blowing her hubby, so she was unaware of the surprise I had in store. Calmly producing Hank’s Crank and its handy strap from the bureau, I quickly pulled the apparatus between my legs and fastened the strap around my hips.



“It is plain to me; your wife definitely has a thing for cocks,” I stated, shaking my large fake phallus for emphasis.



“I know. She just doesn’t have a very well-developed sense of adventure,” Rick contended.



“And you? What about your sense of adventure, Rick?” I asked, slowly jacking Hank’s Crank from stem to stern.



“Tell ya what, Baby, I’m up for ALL sorts of fun shit!” He admitted and grabbed hold of my hard rubber replica.



As he proceeded to stroke and choke it, I took a deep breath. “GOODNESS; hadn’t quite expected THAT–had you, Donny?” I turned to catch my hubby’s reaction.



“Uh…NO,” Donny piped up from behind the video camera, even breaking his focus for a better look. When Rick lowered himself to suck and otherwise fully lubricate my long rubber buddy, Donny and I subconsciously cleared our throats in unison.



“I mean it IS the fucking 80′s, right? Where I come from, anything goes,” Rick smiled up at each of us. As his wife continued to dedicate her mouth to her hubby’s shaft, he made one final effort at deep-throating my toy. Letting it audibly pop from his mouth, he immediately moved his hand to MJ’s twat.



I took the hint and maneuvered myself until my glistening pseudo cock was poised perfectly for missionary entry. MJ’s hips rolled from side to side, as I slid the cock head gingerly between a pair of luscious lips the size of a Monarch butterfly.



Her mouth fully engorged with her hubby’s real-deal, I watched her trusting yet ever-blinking eyes gaze up at him. Feeding her quivering pussy with more and more of my frequent friend, I watched her charcoal eyelids flicker until her focus shifted up at me.



I had Hank’s Crank imbedded nearly three-fourths inside her, when her smoky eyes and mouth suddenly widened simultaneously. Rick’s fugly stick plopped out. Swinging her hands up to my chest, she meant to hold me off from deeper penetration. When she broke out with her familiar, “Nooooooooooo!” her hands slid up to my shoulders. Leaning further forward over her, I favored her pussy with a series of short pelvic thrusts.



Squinting her eyes, her head continued to thrash wildly from one side to the other, as my thrusts quickened. Faster and deeper, my pelvis surged. Her hands unclenched my shoulders and fell limp to either side of her head. “Show me your tits, Baby,” I demanded, as I hovered over her face to face. She complied and slid her hands up the sides of her chest to align her jugs with my swinging melons. Her smoldering eyes shot open to mine, as she began breathing entirely through clenched teeth like any common porn star. Keeping my arms stiff to hold me hovering over her; my thrusts slowed but calculated for the greatest impact.



After applying a few harmless kisses, I head-tossed my ratted blond hair back and returned a sweet smile, “So what do ya think of MY cock, hmm?” I asked, while thrusting my rubber honker to completely fill her pussy.



“GODD! I LOVE your cock inside me. Hell, I love having you fuck me!” She stated before holding my boobs up for a good licking. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but you REALLY turn me on!” With that said, she brought her long legs up and around me and pulled my head to hers for the deepest kiss of the evening thus far.



“HEY, you’re not the only one turned on by this sexy blonde,” Rick interrupted from behind me. “What’s a good looking, well-hung cowboy gotta do ’round these parts to get a decent Barb sandwich?” He added, planting a few fingers between that convenient gap in my strap on apparatus.



“Did you hear something?” I asked seemingly unaffected by his tampering.



“Why no, did you?” MJ replied.



“Hmm, thought I might heard that range-rider hubby of yours and his trained monkey,” I snickered.

“Trained monkey?” MJ reacted, “Believe me that monkey is hardly trained–has a mind of its own, ya know,” she laughed.



“Yeah, I think he said the ugly thing was trained to play poker–or was it poke HER?”



“Well, now THAT wouldn’t surprise me,” MJ said, noticing her husband coming at me from the rear. “There is probably something you should know about the monkey,” she added, as Rick used his fingers on my pussy like a dip stick.



“What’s that?” I asked, resuming my thrusting.



“No need to worry about the “monkey” spitting on you–not today,” MJ said, cupping my face in her hands.



The sensation of Rick’s formidable cock parting my pussy distracted me from any further conversation regarding spitting monkeys. MJ must have deemed it important enough to share. “It’s the coke, see? He has a bad habit of snorting before sex. He thinks it makes Mr. Fugly last longer–actually it just makes it so he doesn’t come,” she whispered in my ear.



Her last three words echoed in my brain, as Mr. Fugly proceeded to fill my sodden hole.



“HOLY SHIT, he’s fucking HUGE!” I exclaimed, as I backed up on my knees to take it all. In doing so Hank’s Crank flopped from its temporary home in MJ’s hot box. Before I could reach out and reconnect with MJ she had scooted out from under me. Apparently happy to watch the two of us, she propped herself against the headboard and spread her legs a few feet in front of me. As I watched MJ fondle her big tits and masturbate, her husband hard-fucked me doggy style.



“That’s it, Baby. Fuck that blonde pussy!” MJ urged, as my rhythmic moans increased with each mattress-shaking thrust. To say his fucking lacked any degree of the usual finesse I’m accustomed to would be a gross understatement. Even when he reached under my ribcage to haul me up so we were both kneeling, he never stopped or slowed down. Grabbing hold of my swinging five-pound double-d’s I glanced down briefly at Hank’s Crank dangling lifelessly. However, before I had time to consider any possible irony, his broad hands on my back forced me back down to the mattress with a thud.



The force of the slam was so sudden I had no time to get my arms under me. However, having my ass up in the air with my face buried in the mattress suited him just fine. Gasping for air, I was finally able to turn my face enough to one side. Taking in a deep breath I noted a familiar scent. Making a concerted effort to refocus, I was delighted to see Rick’s body slam left my forehead neatly nestled between MJ’s thighs.



Pulling my head back from my neck, he bent me back further until I was totally extended. My tits jutted out like a mermaid figurehead at the bow, while he effectively impaled me from behind with his extra long mast. “Why don’t you go ahead and eat her out?” He whispered, figuring I might have an appetite for such a thing.



Twisting my head slightly in his grasp, my left eye spied his profile. In a daring yet commanding voice reeking with a diabolic overtone I answered, “Make me.” Half-squinting I brushed my tongue across my upper lip.



“Okay Bitch, I will,” his fine-stubble chin grazed my cheek, before he changed his grip from my neck to forcibly shove my head straight down and into her crotch.



MJ gasped and backed herself against the base of the headboard as best she could. Slowly raising my head, we both realized she had backed herself into a predicament. When she tried to maneuver those long legs for some sort of escape my hands went directly to her naked thighs. “OW! Oh SHIT!” She yelled as I sunk my nails into her fleshy thighs. Unclenching my grip and not wanting to damage the merchandise, I swept my hands under her thighs. “NOOO!” She knew by my expression and extended tongue what was coming next.



Yanking her pelvis to me she banged her head on the headboard, just as my mouth opened to suck in her entire pussy. The sweet struggle for control was on. As I deliberately tongue-thrashed her butterfly lips, her hubby was busy behind me. Undoing the strapon from me, he was soon back to filling my cunt with Mr. Fugly. Our poor king-sized bed shook and rattled, as the three of us fought for the best strategic advantage over each of our preys.



Once I finally had MJ stretched out on her back, I went in for the kill. Her forceful hands on my head and busy legs settled to give up the battle, while my saturated fingers and tongue flicked and taunted her clit. Like a tiny dick, her clit was the largest I’d ever encountered and getting harder by the second. Humming and slobbering, I had to try my hubby’s favorite tactic on her. Gently letting my teeth encircle her bold clit, I sucked it in tight. Lightly biting down to secure it, my tongue went into overdrive on the tip of it.



Her legs instantly went rigid and began shaking as her childlike siren filled the quiet room. “NOOooooooh!” She screamed in one, long contiguous, high-pitched yell.



I had hit pay dirt; now it was time to harvest an orgasm or two. Her large hands gripped and tugged the bed sheets, until her long nails tore tiny holes in the fabric. I bit down more and shoved a few fingers in her flooded hole. “OH GOD! Oh Gawd! DONNY! Oh SHITTT!” She yelled, before reissuing her trademark siren. My tongue frantically flicked her clit like crazy until she burst forth with a tasty cum shot of clear fluid.



With her fresh juice literally dripping from my mouth, I withdrew but kept a palm-grip on her hot box. Rick must have taken my actions as a pause and pulled out. MJ’s hand went immediately down to her pussy to keep her orgasm in check, as I slithered up her torso. Rick and his stocky cock were quick to join up with both our faces. Still reveling in her fiery explosion, she pulled me close. Her enlightened expression was priceless. Keeping my fingers moving inside her, she repeatedly slapped and rubbed her clit.



“Oh my God, Barb! You, you made me cum… so HARD! Nobody has EVER…” She whispered, when I shoved all four fingers deeper into her sloppy snatch.



“NO-body–ever?” I asked, watching her eyeballs roll to the top of their sockets. I knew good and well Donny (among how many other trained apes) must have used that masterful technique on her more-than-a-few times. “No woman has got you off like that; that sounds more accurate, don’t ya think?”



The bosomy brunette’s chest heaved a giant sigh before turning to face me with a huge smile. We were in the middle of sharing a juicy kiss, when Mr. Fugly edged itself between our lips.



“Here Baby, taste how good she is.” Rick offered and hand-fed his now receptive wife his rigged beast coated with my brand of jism.



“Hmm, I like THAT,” she oozed after sucking it clean. “I think it’s time Rick gives you a nice hard fucking. I’d like to watch,” she decided.



“Well, I have an even better idea,” I countered. “How about both of you?”



“BOTH of us? But…” MJ balked.



I started to reach down for Hank’s Crank when Rick grabbed it away from me.



“Here Baby, try it on. It’ll be fun!”



“Are you guys sure about this?” MJ asked reticently as her hubby quickly adjusted and my friendly 10″ rubber strapon to fit her large hips. “Holy shit! I have a dick!” MJ laughed on her knees, swinging her new found appendage.



“No Honey, Donny has a dick–you have a COCK! I call him Hank’s Crank,” I smiled, got to my knees, and then abruptly pushed her down on her back. Standing up to straddle her, I kicked off my pumps and made her touch my wetness. “Hold on to it, MJ.” I said, referring to Hank. Holding her fingers against my mons, I lowered myself until the head of the dildo was just inside my lower lips.



“God Barb, you are so fucking sexy like this. I think…” She said, letting go of my pussy to fondle my hanging melons.



“Hmm, you think what?” I asked, and lowered torso; taking more of the 10-incher inside.



“I think I really WOULD like to fuck you!” She remarked and raised her hips.



Feeling the thick rubber dildo filling my saturated slit I let my legs spread to take it all. “I was hoping you would, MJ.” I smiled, brushed aside some stray brunette locks and lowered to press our tits and lips together. Breaking from one long, sensual kiss, we each took a sharp breath before peppering each other with smaller lusty exchanges. All the time her hips rolled and pushed the pseudo cock into my wanton hole.



“Fuck me! Yeah, Baby! Fuck ME!” I yelled, sitting up to ride the rubber. “Oh YEAH! Pull my tits HARD!!” I demanded, throwing my long ash blonde tresses behind. “MAKE ME COME! I need to come soo bad!” I pounded my pelvis into hers. Grabbing hold of her hooters, the both of us writhed and screamed like a pair of love-starved animals.



“She’s fucking me! RICK, she’s fucking ME!” I repeated. “You getting all of this, Donny?”



“Oh yeah, Baby. You two are IN-FUCKING-CREDIBLE!” Donny exclaimed from behind the handicam. “Go on Man, see if she’ll take you…” I heard him urge Rick.



MJ and I were riding a swelling wave to a glorious orgasm, when I felt Rick’s hand on my ass. “You like fucking that bitch?” Rick quietly stroked my pussy and asshole.



“YES!!” Both MJ and I answered in unison.



“Pinch me Man, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Nothing gets me off more than a pair of big-titted babes going at it,” Rick directed his revelation at my hubby.



“No shit! Blonde and brunette bombshells–gotta love it!” Donny said.



“I do believe your Mister Rodeo-Jones thinks he covered the entry fee to ride my sweet ass,” I whispered to MJ.



“Mmmm, that’s your call. Personally I can’t blame him,” she smiled and luridly licked my lips.



Perhaps this was as good a time as any to collect on my bet with Rick. Wiggling my ass for best effect, I craned my head around to remind Rick of his foolish wager and that it was time for him to make good.



“You want some of this fine ass –pay up fucker!” I snickered and slapped my ass.



Sliding a saliva coated finger in my asshole, he leaned down. “Don’t think I’m a man of my word, okay. I’d do damn near anything for a piece of this, Baby,” he hummed.



“Well?” I winked.



“Donny, my man! How about me fucking your wife’s sweet ass?” Rick blurted out, knowing full-well what his response would be.



“Sounds good to me; I mean if she’s up for it!” Donny is always so easy to lease my ass.



“Come here Honey. I want you to see this up close and personal,” I said in my sweet voice, as Rick slid in another greased up finger.



“You bet!” Unsuspecting Donny chirped and set the video camera on autopilot.



I recall thinking what an appropriate response. Rick, keeping one foot on the floor, bent a knee on the bed to hunch over my ass. Ever-so-slowly he edged the head of Mr. Fugly into my tight asshole. Slowing myself to a complete halt with MJ, I gasped sharply as his gruesome tool further filled my bottom. By the time Mr. Fugly half-filled my expanded rectum I caught sight of my dear hubby standing next to me on the bed.



“God Man, she is ONE TIGHT MOMMA!” Rick exclaimed, as he stopped any further penetration at that point.



“Yeah, for sure,” Donny murmured; jacking his 8-inch boner faster and harder.



Kneeling behind me on the bed, Rick must have had a comparatively close up view of my hubby’s cock. “Here, let me help,” I heard Rick from behind. Donny froze. Craning my head to one side for a better vantage point, I gasped again. “It’s the least I can do,” Rick winked up at Donny and proceeded to immediately engulf his prick.



Now it was Donny’s turn to gasp. Trying to sturdy himself on the shaky mattress, he gazed dumb-founded, while Rick resolutely devoured his manhood. Even though I knew beforehand Rick might go through with his bet, my first reaction was similar to Donny’s –total deer-in-the-headlights. The more I watched a man treat my semi-faithful hubby to a blow job; the more nasty-sensual it translated. My hips were the first to react.



With my pussy still impaled with MJ’s strapon and Rick’s thick cock half stuck up my ass, I felt a familiar (yet seldom exercised) motor response building. First one twitch; and then a short series of three or four followed. “Oh God, I can’t stop it!” I must have scared MJ half to death.



“Wha-what IS it?” MJ shot me a look of concern, as she tightened her grip on my swinging melons.



“It’s ohhHH-kay,” I said, somehow trying to relax enough to stop my ass from shaking a mile a minute. It was pointless. I would have to “suffer” through it.



“Damn, that feels…” Donny started and then stopped. He wasn’t at all sure how to relate. He WAS confident with what I was going through. “Oh Man, she’s going Tahitian on you– you’re gonna like this a LOT!” He said, before grabbing Rick’s head to hold on.



Both MJ’s fake cock and Rick’s real beast raced in and out of my respective holes, as my ass went into high-dynamo action. Usually this infrequent and uncontrollable phenomenon only lasts for only a few seconds, but I was in such superior physical shape, who knows how long it would last? That HAD to be the reason why my ass was still quaking after several minutes. It’s similar to an epileptic seizure, except I am totally aware and completely turned on.



Anyone watching would think I was having either a fit or one HELL of an orgasm. As it happens, my particular audience opted for the latter. MJ bathed me in kisses as she worked herself up to another climax. Donny screamed and shot a full load in Rick’s mouth, while Mr. Fugly surged inside me. As quickly as it came, the shaking ceased. However, by that time, my clit and ass were beyond arousal. I went immediately into a full-blown orgasm.



“Fuck Me! C’MON RICK–FUCK Me HARD! Make me come! I NEED to COME,” I persisted, as Mr. Fugly filled and re-filled my entire shit canal.



“You want it hard, Bitch?” Rick yelled, spewing Donny’s spunk. “I’ll make you come — OH YEAH!” He added, gripping my hips to slam his rock-hard totem pole deeper.



“Yeah Baby, fuck her HARD, Baby! She wants all of it. Fuck that sweet ass! Make her come. Make her come HARD!” MJ directed from under me. My propped up arms, keeping some distance between us, finally gave way and our boobs smashed together and spread like two giant Jell-O molds attacking each other.



“Oh, I’m fucking this sweet ass ’till it falls off! Come here, Whore!” Rick commanded. His battering cock-ram fucked my ass non-stop, as he reached under my armpits to pull me off his wife. Hank’s Crank, sloppy with my juices, flopped out. With one of his arms nearly choking me, the crazy cowboy’s other arm held me tight at the waist. We fell back into the king size mattress together; he on his back with my back against his chest. Figuring he wanted me to ride him cowboy-style I started to lean forward. Instead, he took hold of my thighs spreading and extending my legs. Sensing the beast beginning to flinch inside my ass, I tried to relax. He would none of that! The flinches upgraded to throbs in no time. He was poised and on track to take me from behind and I was in no position to way lay the inevitable. Reaching down to favor my labia, I split my pussy for all to see. Pulling my slick, thin lips apart I fingered my clit. “God! Oh, that’s it! Shit YES; make me come! OH GOD-FUCK MY ASS!” My head rolled back against Rick’s shoulder.



Donny and MJ, each within arms’ reach, watched intently as the two of us raced to satisfy our wanton lust. Somewhere amidst the ever raging fire of desire MJ’s voice cut through, “God Donny, they’re gonna explode!”



“Yeah, I know… maybe I should,” Donny said and leaned down to add his tongue to the mix.



“NO, let me? She’s SO fucking beautiful. I think I want to try,” MJ said chomping at the bit, so to speak. Donny shot her a wink and a smile, as she reached to toy with her hubby’s balls. Leaning down for her first hands-on taste of pussy, I let go of my reddened lips to grab her hair.



“YES! Oh God YES! Eat me — make me come!” I commanded, tugging and pulling her hair to find just the right spot. Quick-licking and toying my tender lips would have normally been apropos for a first lesbian meet-n-greet. There was no time for such formalities. “Oh, OH Baby, PLEASE! Just suck my clit. SUCK IT!” I instructed in no uncertain terms.



My new lady lover almost immediately complied and took nearly my entire pussy in her mouth. Her long tongue darted in and out of my vagina a few times, before she lightly bit down on my clitoris. “Oh GAWWDDD! YES! YES!!” I screamed and felt Rick’s ugly pole pulsing through me.



Rick’s lower back arched slightly and then tightened like a fist. “HOLY SHIT! Oh GOD! I’m going to COME, Baby!” He exclaimed almost like a question. Even he couldn’t believe Mr. Fugly could be so cooperative. Just the way he said “Baby” I knew he was directing this revelation at his wife. My tight ass must have been sufficient enough to break through the nearly impossible “coke” barrier. I must admit a sense of pride in that.



Personally I wasn’t really in the mood to suspend a well-deserved orgasm, but somehow I sensed that wouldn’t be my last chance. Besides, Mr. Fugly was already spewing a thick batch of man gravy up my ass. I eased myself off his super cock to watch the fireworks. MJ was Johnny-on-the-spot to fast-jack and suck his ass-coated beast. You’d have never known this was probably her first taste of that bi-product as well. She pumped, licked and sucked Mr. Fugly like a true whore.



“Well, just look at you come, Mr. Fugly!” She smiled up at Rick, as she continued to hard jerk our several more strands of starchy cum. Rick’s upper body spasm and flushed face spoke volumes. I gave him a big kiss before leaning down to scoop up a few stray cum globs from MJ’s fist.



“Me like Mr. Fugly,” I smiled and snowballed MJ with a series of cum-filled Frenchies.



“I thought you said the monkey wouldn’t spit?” I laughed.



“Hey, I lied,” She admitted, as she held a tight grip on her prized hubby’s throbber. “Now it’s MY turn! You don’t mind if I borrow your hubby for a while?”



“No problem, think I’ll just let him give me a big funky kiss; and then he’s all yours,” I said.



Donny was close at hand, jacking his hose, when I got up on all fours. “Ya know what they say, Honey, ‘What comes around goes around?’ I think you need to come around here and clean Momma out,” I said, slapping my ass.



Donny got the message and knelt down to lick the rim. Spreading my cheeks he tongue-cleaned my ass. Such a duty isn’t generally on most guys’ wish list, but he and I both knew this would be his final payment-in-full for past indiscretions. He was only about half-done though when the doorbell rang.



“Good God, its 3:00 AM! Who the fuck?” Donny stopped.



“I’ll get it,” I volunteered. Donny seemed relieved for the time being.



MJ and Rick were caught up in each other, as I climbed back into my fancy French panties and pumps. Donny tossed me my black satin robe, adding a parting word or two before rejoining our guests. “Here, better use this; don’t want any incidental indiscretions, do we?” He laughed.



“Oh heaven’s no!” I winked, tied the satin sash and headed into the hall.



Casting Fate to the Wind +++++



The doorbell rang again as I passed the closed door to Josh’s bedroom. Muffled voices from inside told me perhaps we weren’t the only late-night partiers still awake. Stepping up the pace, I made my way downstairs and peered through the side window.



“O my God; it’s Porge! What the hell?” I said, doing a brisk two-handed primp in the mirror.



“Well, look what we have here!” I welcomed my young hunky neighborhood lover from a few months ago.



Standing sheepishly in no more than a pair of pajama bottoms, slippers and white t-shirt, Marge’s son looked a long night had gotten the best of him.



“Hi Mrs. ‘B,’ sorry to bother you so late,” he started, slowly raising his brow. “I certainly don’t mean to crash your party and stuff…” he continued and then stopped to drop his jaw.

“Why Porge, you didn’t crash anything. As a matter of fact I was just thinking of you. C’mon in and explain yourself. I’ve really been missing you, did you know that?” I scolded, shutting the door to lean against it. “Oh, pay no attention to this; just ‘party’ clothes, ya know,” I chortled.



His wide-eyed expression soon lowered into a more sullen expression. “Yeah well, I’m really not here for a party. My mom…” He started, as I took his hand.



“Your MOM! Now there’s a party ANIMAL!” I revealed, as I led him into the den.



“My Mom? MY Mom–a party animal?” He rolled his eyes before taking a seat.



“Oh yeah Porge, for sure! Now, what can I get you? How ’bout a little lipstick for the old dipstick?” I quipped and leaned down to grab his package. He turned to elude me.



“I’m sorry Porge, dressed like this, you must think I’m no more than a common whore,” I pouted and moved my chest to snuggle his leg between my melons. “You just really light my fire; why not let me at least light your candle, hmm?” I added, pressing my chest hard against his knee.



Checking the immediate area for any eavesdroppers, he answered, “I don’t think there’s anything common about you, Mrs. B.” His demeanor remained stoic. He was determined to stay on task.



“Well, I suppose you know by now that Josh, Lurch and I kinda got a little wasted tonight.” He avoided my offer and began his story.



The three boys and their girl friends decided to whoop it up once more before they all went their separate ways (off to college). Everyone had a high ole time especially Josh. Having no girlfriend to bid farewell, my son was the only one left to party by himself.



“I’m afraid Josh got really plowed. He was spouting all this weird stuff about the girls and, ya know, women in general… anyway, we decided to take him home,” Porge admitted.



“I appreciate that Porge. That explains a lot,” I shook my head and nodded.



“Anyway, so when I got home there were these bizarre phone messages from my mom.” He continued.



“Oh really?”



“Yeah, I think SHE was pretty wasted too– talking about Clint Eastwood trying to rape her–crazy shit like that,” Porge said.



“Oh REALLY,” I snickered.



“I know; it’s weird. It’s REALLY weird for HER. She hardly EVER gets totally hammered! Anyway, since Dad is already home and crashed out, I’d better get her home,” Porge decided.



“Hmm yeah, that’s maybe not… maybe she should just stay here for the night; I’ll bring her home tomorrow, how’s that?” I offered, knowing the true condition of our Little Miss Gidget.



“Mmm I don’t know; she was pretty insistent on the phone. Is she crashed out somewhere? I’ll just retrieve the body and get her home–no sweat.”



“She’s upstairs… but you better let me help,” I confided, as he headed to the staircase.



With each ascending step the more I tried to think of how to warn him. Finally when we reached the upstairs hall I grabbed his wrist. Turning him around, I cupped his face with both hands to make him focus.



“Porge, this is probably NOT a good idea,” I stated.



“What’s the deal? Is she okay?” Now his concern had peaked.



Gidget Gets A Tickle, or Two +++++



“Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure your mom is feeling no pain. Your mom… see… well… you know what you and I did a few months ago?” His eyes shifted and then nearly popped. “I fairly sure she and Josh are…”



“You can’t be SERIOUS!?” His brow lowered. I nodded three times. “Holy shit!”



“Maybe you should let me go in and assess the damage…” I suggested, when he stopped me.



“No, I can handle it. I mean she IS my mom,” Porge stated with all the confidence of a novice tightrope walker.



“Okay then, we’ll both go. I mean he IS my son,” I shrugged. Porge nodded, as I turned the doorknob.



Josh’s room was small; just big enough to hold a long, full-size bed, a small dresser and desk and that’s about it. Otherwise it was standing-room-only. With only the dim light of a small desk lamp it took us a few seconds to see what I kind of expected. Both Josh and Marge were naked. Lying flat, face-down on the bed, Marge was stretched out with her head turned to rest on her hands. Her Gidget pigtails were long-gone. Josh was on his knees hunched over her from behind with his sizable manhood neatly imbedded in her snatch. By the spaced out look on my son’s face, he was only mildly aware we had entered. We were decidedly low-key as we moved through a maze of discarded clothes to end up at the far end of the bed.



“Hi guys, having a little party?” I broke through the silence with a whisper.



Porge remained silent, but I sensed he was taking the whole scene in with virgin eyes. Josh was beyond giving verbal responses, as he robotically continued to slowly thrust back and forth. “I know what this looks like, but I think they’re just going through the motions,” I whispered to Marge’s ambivalent son.



“I never even imagined… she’s like totally…” he mouthed, but the words wouldn’t come.



“Barbie? Is that my Barbie?” Marge’s tiny voice piped up, as she raised her head. I knelt on the floor at the end of the bed to hear her better.



“I’m having the most wonderful dream, Barbie, and you’re in it too!” Her words slowly dripped out like she WAS in a drunkard’s dream. “The boy is fucking me like two or three times and its sooo good, and you’re wearing such sexy clothes. You’re like a black angel!” She was not EVEN close to anything resembling reality. When I soothed her naked back she turned her glazed eyes up toward her son; then back to me. “I dreamed you had a young lover too and he REALLY wanted to see your big tits, but I want to see them too.” The tiny voice said, before she surprised both Porge and I.



Somehow she had the strength to keep her head up, as she nearly ripped off my satin robe. When I went to re-cover she had already affixed her mouth to one of my exposed nipples. Her not-so-subtle gestures and sucking definitely got the boys’ attention.



Josh suddenly awoke from his drunken stupor, while Porge reached inside his PJ’s to produce a fully aroused boner. My initial plan [if you can call it a rational plan] was to quietly extinguish any inadvertent fires of passion, rescue the fair Princess Gidget, and make a quick escape into the night. Stoking unintended latent desires of two boys and their moms, although not on the menu, had suddenly become the main entrée. [Sorry for the mixed metaphors.]



Blame it on my reoccurring fantasy of having two, hard, young cocks at my bidding, but I ceased any further need of making an escape. Sliding out of my waist-length robe, I gave my son one, long expression of desire, before turning my attention to the closest hunk of young-manhood, Porge. Taking his thick sausage in my mouth, I kept my eyes glued on my son. Even in the darkness, I was sure to notice any signs of Josh’s jealousy or contempt. Instead, the vision of his mother sucking his best friend produced a reaction that not only gave my heart a flutter; but surely had a positive effect on Marge.



Like an invisible laser beam, his eyes burned into mine, as his grip on Marge’s hips tightened. Slowly, yet almost stubbornly his pelvis thrust faster against her petite ass. “Oooh Baby, that’s it!” Marge implored. I sucked her son harder and faster. Josh buried his pole deeper in Marge with each successive stroke.



I always thought possession was worth 9/10ths. However, if this case, proximity must have determined Marge’s next crazy move. Without even a cordial request, or consideration of just who was on the receiving end, she grabbed hold of Porge’s cock and greedily whipped it from my mouth. Scarcely a second later she transferred it neatly into her mouth. Turning my raised eyebrows back up at Josh, I thought I detected an expression of dismay. Back up on my feet, I slid behind Porge. Teasing his chest with my fingernails from behind, I turned his head just enough to entice him into a long, lurid tongue kiss. “Two can play this game,” I whispered in his ear, as his mother took more of his slick, thick dick into her throat.



“Whenever she has you ready, I think Josh would really enjoy watching you fuck me, Sweetheart,” I whispered again, smiled and watched my son favor both of us a willing smile of his own. “I know I SURE would,” I said and Frenched his ear with my warm, wet tongue.



Slowly edging my panties down, I gave both guys a little seductive dance before lying down on the long bed next to Marge. Stretching out on my back, still facing Porge, I raised my hands and arms back over my head to reach for Josh. My sensual writhing continued with wanton stares at Porge, while my left hand cupped and groped my son’s perfect young ass. Licking my lips in anticipation I fondled my jugs and twat with my right hand. Porge had seen enough.



Backing away from his mother’s face, he bent down to give her his first sweet incestuous kiss. “What a pair of polite (and well-hung) boys we have,” I recall thinking.



Thoroughly discarding the rest of his clothes, he got in bed. Whether or not Porge considered it a point of order or he simply knew how much I enjoy his technique, he slithered up and between my spread legs. “Oh GODD!” I uttered. Grabbing a chunk of Porge’s hair and Josh’s ass, my head fell back against the mattress when Porge’s mouth and tongue immediately went to my clit.



“Yeah! Oh YEAH!” I heard Josh exclaim and felt his ass tighten.



Porge’s talented tongue and quick fingers magically had me primed for a glorious orgasm in no time. Spreading my legs for complete access, my hands jerked his head to and fro, like he was my own personal love slave. With both of us moms moaning and groaning to high heaven, Porge abruptly stopped. Raising his athletic upper body, he looked straight at Josh.



“You know man, I’ll probably regret this, but…” He started, when Josh (as he often did) completed his buddy’s sentence.



“You wanna switch?” My son fervently stated, more than asked.



Porge’s nodding head and wide-eyed expression was so cute. I’m not sure Marge was even aware of what planet she was on, but the fire burning inside me surged at the idea. Whatever reservations or moral negatives I had previously about fucking my son went up in a puff of smoke, as the boys swiftly maneuvered to change places.



Now, looking up into the eyes of my replaced lover as he hovered over me, I had all the perpetual momentum of an Oklahoma State tailback licking his chops on third down and goal. Slowly reaching up to rub my palms against my son’s broad chest, my eyes meant to convey some sort of preciousness to this otherwise inevitable sin. God knows I wanted him to take me, but I needed for the moment and our feelings to be consensual on several levels. Letting his hard cockhead lightly tap against my mons, his eyes purposely avoided mine. Shaking his head from side to side, I sensed he was struggling to obliterate any speculation. Sliding my hands up his neck to steady his head, I brought his face to focus on my eyes.



Raising my darkened eyebrows, I gave him a lust-filled yet confident expression. “Well?” Was my single-worded plea. He returned a confident smile just as the bedroom door creaked open. My eyes flitted up to somehow see behind us.



“Well, WELL, what do we have HERE? Why Barb, you devil, you’ve been holdin’ out on me!” MJ’s voice cut through the silent fog of illicit sensuality. “I SWEAR, what are running in this place?” She asked rhetorically and slid her nearly naked self next to me. “I had NO idea you were breeding them too!” She laughed, while running her long fingers through Josh’s blonde locks. I was speechless and a bit embarrassed, as the amazon made an obvious play for my son.



Porge was too busy screwing his mom to pay attention to our uninvited guest. “Hmm, I KNOW who we have here–Josh, you’re looking better than ever. Don’t tell me that’s Gidget’s, I mean Marge’s…SON?! HEY, what IS going on here?” MJ was fully aware of what was going on, as Josh and his 9-plus inch honker backed away.



Trying to gather his equilibrium at the bed’s edge, MJ reached for his ass to “steady” him. “Listen, I didn’t mean to interrupt something here; a little family-thing going on, huh?” MJ gathered and stood up to help Josh.



“Oh no, it’s nothing like that, was it Josh?” I lied, scurried to my feet and put on my robe. “So, what gives with YOU, MJ? I thought you and the guys would be at each other all night long,” I blurted out, desperately trying to dispel her evolving suspicions.



“What, those two? Let’s put it this way, I was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel, if you can imagine THAT!” She rolled her eyes.



“SERIOUSLY!” I over-stated.



She nodded and, without sharing any specifics, continued, “Don’t be surprised if your hubby looks like he’s walking on eggshells come tomorrow morning — HA! Now you two, stop avoiding me! What’s going on in HERE that I shouldn’t know about? It looks deliciously evil.”



“NO –Nothing! Me and Mom were just… just playing around, ya know,” Josh kept to my script and nervously searched for some clothes. MJ nodded with reservations, but kept a keen eye on his man-sized erection.



Standing toe to toe and head to head with my tall son, MJ was the same height as Josh in her bare feet. As he teetered back and forth he eyed [one-eyed] a pair of shorts on the floor. MJ seeing his dilemma lowered herself to her knees to grab the underwear. Of course this put her face in direct proximity to his rather prominent hardon (a calculated move I’m sure.) When he gestured to take them from her, she hastily pulled his shorts from his reach and gazed up into his blurry eyes.



“Ah, ah, AH! You seem awfully impatient to hide such a stunning treasure,” she remarked with a conniving raised eyebrow and purposely hid his shorts behind her long bare back.



“Uh… uh,” Josh stammered and tried re-fixing his focus on me for help.



In his current state he was obviously going nowhere fast, so I started to make my own retreat. Removing myself from the equation, I turned my head back in their direction when I got to the door. MJ muttered something about having a better hiding place and promptly took his entire swollen manhood in her mouth and surely into her throat, as Josh’s eyes met mine for a long rock-and-hard-place expression. Thrusting his head to ceiling, he steadied himself with a two-fisted grip on her head. Following a series of groans and long cleansing breathes he slowly lowered his line of sight from the ceiling tiles to catch a wink and a smile from me. Like a pair of star-crossed lovers resigned to their immediate fate, we shared a clear sense of regret.



The sight and sounds of MJ’s sloppily-delivered blowjob meant I had over-stayed my welcome. Glancing down at Marge and Porge swallowed up in each other, I breathed a long sigh and shut the door behind me. “Just as it goes with battles and wars, you can lose all kinds of battles; but this particular war was FAR from being lost,” I laughed to myself at conjuring up such a strange analogy and headed down the hall.



Overhearing the gist of a testosterone-laden dialog coming up the stairwell I went into stealth mode. Rick and Donny, now fully clothed, were seated across from each other in the living room. Nursing a pair of longneck Buds, they went on and on about which California football team was the best, like a pair of bar buddies. I smiled at the irony, yawned and turned back toward our bedroom.



“Is that you, Honey?” Donny has ears like a dog.



“Yeah, I’m headed for the hay.”



“Hey, sorry we lost track of you. Who was that at the door–everything okay?” He asked loud enough to be heard.



“Everything is fine. That was just Porge checking on Marge. I’m beat; going to bed,” I answered.



“Okay, see ya in the morning…”



“Ah YEAH — BARB? Sleep tight and THANKS! Thanks for EVERYthing!” Rick bellowed.



“SURE Rick! Good to have you guys… OVER, I MEAN! It was FUN!” I had switched to my ‘happy-but-exhausted-hostess’ voice. That voice was probably not appropriate after such an “exciting” evening. However, I WAS tired and the idea of delivering a batch of cute pseudo-sensual retorts seemed like over-kill, especially at 4:30 AM.



Dénouement? Sure! Make Mine With A Twist +++++



As you might imagine, everyone left from the long night’s festivities slept in. A welcome scent of fresh-brewed coffee caught my nearly numb nostrils as I lumbered downstairs about 10 AM. Squinting my eyes against the sun-drenched kitchen, my daughter’s firm, tanned legs were the first sign of humanity. She had to be the sole surviving human being on the planet without a hangover.



“Meg, you made it home; how was the sleepover?”



The 15-year-old spitting image of yours truly (at her age) was quick to pour herself some cereal and shove a steaming cup of coffee under my sorry face.



“Fine. We had a good time; watching movies and stuff,” the familiar lilt in her voice almost grated on my addled brain. “Looks like you guys had a REAL good time!” She laughed.



“Oh God, are they still here?”



Meg smiled and nodded. “Daddy and the tall guy…”



“That would be Rick, MJ’s husband…” I yawned.



“Yeah anyway, they’re crashed out by the hot tub,” Meg craned her head to see if they were still there. “I’ve seen THEM–they haven’t seen me; haven’t moved an inch.”



Her teenage whims and wheels were turning, as I’m sure she was developing her own version of what might have gone down last night. “Well, before you get enough incriminating evidence for your journal, I suggest you go up and change,” I strongly suggested, checking her short, open-necked Babydoll gown.



“Geez, not even a ‘Thanks’ for the coffee?” She winked and made a pair of her sweeping dance turns. The same ballet tip-toed turns that made her so adorable years ago only gave her a Lolita-air as a teenager.



“THANKS for the COFFEE!” I shot back, as she scampered down the hall and started upstairs.



Meg and her ever-emerging bust line and tempting rest-of-her would become excellent source material for future stories soon enough. My thoughts (vague as they were) shifted to Josh and his big day–leaving for college tomorrow. Downing the rest of my Columbian over the sink, I took and deep breath and turned to the hall. I would climb those steps one last time, before sending my first-born off to conquer the world.”GOD, I’m too young for this shit!” I actually verbalized.



“Too young for what shit?” MJ’s voice cracked, as I nearly ran her over.



“M-MJ! You’re awake!”



“Well, let’s just say I’m on my feet and leave it at that,” she said head down, as she slumped into a tall kitchen counter chair. She had dressed back into the clothes she came in. With her ratted hair askew, only her eye shadow somehow remained intact.



“Here, try this on,” I said, pouring her a cup of java. “Cream…sugar?”



Her head lifted just enough to eye-ball me, before she shook her head, “No.”



A caffeine-buzz cleared a cobweb or two from my fat head, as I managed enough energy to try for the stairs again. “Better get Josh up and going,” I announced, pretty much for my own benefit, and left the coffee pot for the hung over amazon.



“He…he’s not there,” came an unexpected reply from MJ.



“Not in his room… hmm,” I thought.



“Nope, he left hours ago; hell, they ALL left,” MJ said between sips.



Mixed feelings again filled my semi-charged brain. I tried to second-guess what could have happened hours ago after I left that room and the odd couple times two.



“They mentioned something about ‘the pole’, or ‘going to the pole”, MJ volunteered. “You don’t suppose they meant the North Pole? Weird!” She added.



“No, but I may have an idea,” I said, and headed for the basement.



My suspicions were realized, when I reached the bottom stair. Spying Josh’s size twelve feet hanging off the end of the couch, I figured Porge couldn’t be far off. There Porge was crashed out on the carpet next to the couch. I couldn’t help but crack a wide smile at their final attempt to hold on to shared youth. I had to shed a tear for the same reason.

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