An article in Playboy magazine recently presented an interesting suggestion for a change in the structure of our society. Current high divorce rates, the article said, prove that the existing and traditional marriage customs are not practical. As it is, two young people fall in love, get married, and are expected to successfully surmount the problems of setting up a household, having children, advancing in their jobs, climbing in society, and all the petty details of living life without the guiding hand of a parent to steer them. In addition to conquering these problems of every day living, and with very little education, they are expected to thoroughly please themselves and their spouses in bed, even though the sex drives of the eighteen-year-old male and female are at different stages of development. The fact that the eighteen-year-old male is at his sexual peak while his young wife's sex drive is still developing does not make things any easier for the young married couple in today's structure and certainly adds to the divorce rate. The ideal marital arrangement for a happy and productive society, said the article, would be the following:
At the age of fifteen, the young man in this ideal society takes a bride. More correctly, she takes him, for at the age of fifteen he is required to marry a divorced woman of thirty. The woman is educated in the ways of the world and her sex drive is at its peak, just as his is or will soon be. She teaches him the ways of day-to-day business, how to run a household, and sees to it that he furthers his formal education to the best of his ability. And throughout his developing years she keeps him well satisfied with her body, showing him all the arts of love which she has already learned. After fifteen years of this educational and happy marriage, the couple parts company friends and each of them sets off on a new marriage.
Now the man is thirty years old, well established in business, uninhibited in sex. He follows the custom of this new society and takes for himself a bride of fifteen years. The process he has already experienced repeats itself. Now it is he who is the teacher, however, instructing his teenaged bride in the ways of the world, running a household, handling money, raising children, enjoying sex. All these things come easy to him now, thanks to the marital education he received from his first wife. The sexual portion of this marriage comes particularly easy and enjoyable, for now that first mad flush of excitement is gone from the discovery of sex and he has his head about him when he beds down with his inexperienced, usually frightened young bride. And as before, after fifteen years of marriage, the couple parts company friends.
The woman is now thirty years of age, worldly and experienced, financially secure, with her child-bearing and educational years behind her. Now it is her turn to take a teenaged husband, educating him and enjoying his virile youth. The man from whom she has just separated is forty-five years old, totally mature, set in his ways, looking back on two marriages and many happy and productive years. He takes for his third and final wife a woman of his same age, a similar veteran of two marriages which have spanned a period of thirty years.
The divorce rate from such a societal arrangement would not really diminish but, the writer states, the divorces would be entirely compatible ones lacking the tragedy of divorce that is so familiar now. With this future arrangement of our lives, the Playboy author states, the individual would be less bored and much better equipped to handle life, and our entire structure of society would greatly benefit.
All this is hypothetical, of course, but it has the ring of logic to it. This story-Eating With Mother-closely examines one facet of such a future existence in the world of today. Here Miss Morrison examines the sexual problems facing the older-woman/younger-man relationship and the older-man/younger-woman's problems. Each of the individuals has his own adjustment problems and his own temptations, and to compound these, Miss Morrison has made the involved couples blood relations. Much of her commentary on the educational and disciplinary problems occurring in the Utopian society we have above described is implied, but her details of the sexual lives of the protagonists are quite explicit, giving the story a great deal of lasting impact. We humbly suggest that it be read with an eye toward living in a better, calmer, saner world.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Betty McCall's blue eyes glowered darkly over the rim of her fourth can of beer as she watched her fifteen-year-old son Glen enter the bathroom of the house. Normally she loved her only child almost to distraction, but on that warm September afternoon she felt like taking his pants down, turning him across her dimpled knees, and spanking him as if he was a child. Mot that he'd done anything wrong. Far from it, he'd gone out of his way to please her during the past two worrisome days. Ever since Betty's husband Paul had gone traipsing off somewhere with snippy little Debbie, his seventeen-year-old daughter by a previous marriage, Glen had been a perfect angel around the house. And Betty had silently fumed and drank beer. Glen didn't understand why Paul and Debbie had gone away so suddenly, and neither did Betty for certain, but Betty had a damned good idea.
She'd seen, the way Paul had leered at his long-lost daughter. She'd seen him pat her on the ass and she'd seen the girl smile up at him and lean closer in response. But it hadn't really occurred to her that father and daughter would become lovers and run off together until after the deed was done. Now while she fumed and sweated, Paul and Debbie were fucking their heads off in some cheap but air-conditioned motel. He had probably taught her to suck his cock by now, if that wasn't one of her accomplishments already. Betty sat there sipping wondering if Paul ate his daughter's pussy and did sixty-nine with her as he had with Betty when they were first married. Though he had lost the taste for Betty's pussy, the bastard was probably slurping up that teenage cunt at that very moment, and loving it. He'd picked up young girls before when he was out on one of his sex binges and later confessed he'd kissed their pussies a few times, and even though she'd forgiven him in the end, that didn't bring him any closer to doing the thing she loved so much, going down on her.
Betty covered her bare, damp pussy with her hand and scratched and pushed at its itch. It didn't add to her peace of mind. At that very moment Paul was shoving his big dick into his candy-assed daughter's little cunt. Betty was as sure as she could be of that. Or they were rolling around on a rumpled bed, his thirty-five-year-old face between her nymphet legs, her childish mouth wrapped around his grizzled old cock. He probably had her half drunk and dancing naked for him, twisting and turning her damnably slim body in front of the air-conditioner while he lay on the bed, beer can in one hand, cock in the other. They probably picked up another hippy girl like Debbie and were having a three-way sex orgy, high on marijuana and beer, all three of them sucking and fucking each other indiscriminately.
And there she was, stuck in the house with her very irritating son. He was a wonderful boy in every way but one, really, and that was that he looked too much like his father.
Every time Betty looked at him, she couldn't help but speculate on where Paul and Debbie were and what they were doing. She had her suspicions about what her husband and his errant daughter were up to. Paul was such an oversexed bastard and Debbie was such an obvious little tramp that it was only logical to picture them together in some sleazy motel. That would be incest, of course, but incest wasn't exactly unheard of. Some biblical character had been screwed by both his daughters, but with all that beer in her Betty couldn't remember exactly who it had been. All she knew for sure was that she'd been very nice to Debbie following her surprise appearance and that her goodness to the girl had been rewarded by the abandonment of her husband. She was sure of that, and she was sure she had to pee, but she could only do something about the latter.
Glen was cooling off in the shower. Betty could hear the water running. There was only one bathroom in the little stucco house, and she'd have time to slip in there and sit down on the toilet before he came out of the shower stall. It was stifling hot in the little house, and the breeze she created by walking from the living room to the bathroom felt good on her hot flesh. She didn't have much on. All Betty was wearing was a short cotton wrapper that was loosely tied in the front. Her very large breasts held the top of it open almost to her nipples and her striding legs pushed back its hem to expose her blonde-haired pussy as she walked, but of course there was no one around to see her in such immodest attire. No one but her son, and he'd be in the shower for another ten or fifteen minutes.
Betty could see his nude figure hazily through the frosted glass of the shower door. He looked even more like his father then, and she was hard pressed to keep the irritation out of her voice as she announced, "It's only me. I'll just be a minute."
Betty untied her wrapper and squatted on the toilet seat. The rush of her water felt exceedingly good. Glen could probably hear its clatter in the bowl over the sounds of the water rushing down over his naked body. They were mother and son, nearly naked and quite close together-but somewhere in the city there was a father and his daughter, even more naked and considerably closer together.
She'd get even with him. What she ought to do was call the police and have them both sent to jail. It would serve them right. She was going to divorce Paul, that was for sure. She ought to get a gun and shoot him. She ought to have a few more drinks at a bar, pick up a stranger and go to his bed and have some wild sex with him so she could relieve her nagging tensions and think straight again, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Betty blotted her pussy dry and stood up and flushed the toilet. Drinking all that beer in this kind of heat had left her a little dizzy. She leaned against the sink while her head cleared and saw in the mirror that she had some work to do on herself if she wanted to pick up a man with any sort of class. Most of the wave had come out of her long blonde hair. She hadn't a bit of make-up on, and her face looked feverish and her eyes looked dull. Of course, with the rest of her physical assets just as they were, she could certainly manage a pick up in no time at all, even though it had been years since she'd gone out in search of sex. Her tits alone were enough to make a man leave his wife. She had a pair of 42-D's, and while they were considerably bigger than they'd been when she was Debbie's age, they were every bit as firm and upstanding as those little pimples on her step-daughter's skinny chest.
Betty's waist had thickened a bit during her thirty-three years, but it still measured twenty-six inches and it was smooth and entirely free of stretch marks. Her hips were where she'd picked up some weight. She measured thirty-eight inches there, and a few of those inches were in flab. Was that what had sexually attracted Paul to his daughter, her boyish hips and her little bee-bee butt? Betty swept back the sides of her wrapper and ran her hands over her hips and buttocks in a critical appraisal of herself. She was too soft, too full.
Some men liked women with big bottoms. Some men couldn't take their eyes off the woman strolling down the street with their stretch pants just about to rip because of the wideness of their hips and the overfull roundness of their buttocks. Some overweight wives could drive their husbands crazy by casually flaunting themselves with nothing but a pair of gossamer thin panties on their fat asses. Or by walking around the house naked, with their flabby old bottoms jiggling, and then compounding matters by bending over in full view of their husbands to pick up an imaginary thread from the floor. Betty had teased Paul in that fashion in the past, not that she was all that fat down there. She still had a very nice shape to her globular buttocks and her hips were not too padded with softness to be called fat. At five feet five and a hundred and thirty pounds, she was a lot of woman, and that very feminine bottom that her hands were exploring was infinitely more attractive than Debbie McCall's skinny rump.
Right in the middle of her self evaluation Betty became aware that the shower had been turned off. She realized this in the same instant she looked over her shoulder in the mirror and saw the wide brown eye of her son staring at her through the narrow opening between the shower door and its jamb. Little sneak, she wanted to say, you're as bad as your father. But just in time she recalled that it was she who'd intruded on his privacy. Still there was irritation in her voice as she said, "Go get me a cold can of beer, Glen."
His wet arm snaked out, fumbled around, and got a towel. Betty inwardly smiled and felt a tug at her heartstrings, for only then did she realize that her little boy was becoming a man, and as such he was seeing her familiar old body in a different way. She let the wrapper fall closed, covering most of her nipples. There was a lot of cover there, for her aureoles and nipples were in full proportion to her breasts. Oddly enough, her nipples were tingling and getting a little stiff. Paul's absence had made her horny, and Glen's eyes on her were adding to it. She ought to fuck Glen; that would serve Paul right. It would be the easiest thing in the world to do, and then Paul would know how she felt with him shacked up with his daughter. She mused on this further as Glen stepped gingerly out of the shower stall, dark hair plastered down on his head, slim and hairless body quite naked except for the towel he kept clutched about his waist.
Hi, Paul. Nice to see you again, she would say when he returned. I've been fucking our son while you've been fucking your daughter. That makes us a real together-type family, doesn't it, dear?
Betty's laughter tinkled as she thought about Paul's reaction to such a greeting. Betty's big tits jiggled their way out of the blue wrapper as she brushed back her slightly damp hair. Her nipples were up all the way now. The tickling of the thin cotton on them, the humid atmosphere in the bathroom, looking forward to sex with a stranger, all these things had her nice and hot and ready for the forgetfulness one finds in having a good time. All these things, plus the big brown eyes of her innocent son, looking sidelong at her as he had left the room to do her bidding.
His eyes were still wide when he returned with the cold can of beer in his hand. She took it from him without thanks and drank from it. She faced him squarely as she did so. She tilted her head back and let the cold beer trickle down her throat. She drank with one fist resting on her bare hip, pushing back the little cotton wrapper so that her son had a clear view of almost all of her naked beauty. She took this attitude defiantly, silently daring him to leave her for his childish games and playmates. And as expected, he stood right where he was, clutching the towel to his flat belly and frankly gaping at her.
"Want some?" she said, and offered him the can. "A little beer hits the spot on a hot day like this, and I know you sneak a can out of the fridge and drink it now and then."
"Uh ... okay, Mom. Thanks," he said, and his hand was trembling as he took the can from her. And there was fear and there was longing in his immature eyes as his gaze kept flicking over her exposed nudity while he drank.
She looked him over, too, and she liked what she saw. He was a beautiful boy, right on the verge of becoming a handsome young man. He had his father's full head of thick brown hair and he had Betty's blue eyes. He was just Betty's height, but soon he'd be taller than his father was. His body was smooth but muscular. There wasn't a hair on his chest, and that made his two little brown nipples stand out with more prominence. She noticed that the little tan buds were erect, just like her much bigger ones were. She also noticed that there appeared to be a bulge that was surprisingly long under the hand that was clutching the towel to his loins.
"I'm going out for a while," she said and turned to face the mirror. "Stay and talk to me while I get ready."
"Sure, Mom. Where're you going?"
"Just out. Looking for a little fun and excitement, I guess. I'm not about to sit around here waiting for your father and his hippie daughter to come waltzing in with some big fib about where they've been and what they've been doing."
"Where are they and what have they been doing, Mom?"
She halted in the application of her lipstick and regarded him as patiently as she could. "I think you have a pretty good idea what they're doing. You're not that young," she said. And then she was struck by the sudden realization that he was considerably older than she'd thought he was, or at least considerably more mature. That long bulge under the towel proved that. Her eyes were glowering at him again when she said, "Glen, did you do any fooling around with that little bitch while she was here? Did you?" she demanded, and grasped him very tightly by the arm.
"Anything to do with her?" he asked, quite frightened now. "What do you mean? No. Heck, I hardly even talked to her, Mom."
"You know exactly what I mean, and you didn't have to talk with her to do what I think you were doing with her! Did you?!? Did you two do anything while she was here?!?" she asked, her voice rising, both hands on him now, gripping his arms tightly and shaking him hard.
"I don't know what you mean," he moaned, and a tear started down his cheek.
"You know exactly what I mean! Did you sleep with that bitch? Did you?!? Did you?!?"
"No, Mom, no! I never did! The only woman I ever slept with in my life was you!"
She drew back her hand to slap him, outraged at his suggestion that they'd had sex together. And then all at once she realized that indeed he had slept with her, many many times. She'd fallen asleep and so had he when he'd been nursing at her breast in the rocking chair in the middle of the night. They'd slept in each other's arms when he'd had the colic and the flu. Even when he'd been past the baby stage she'd frequently slipped into bed with him during his afternoon nap, slumbering peacefully with her only son, waking refreshed and happy and in a loving, giving mood.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," she said, anger all gone, filled with contrition and love for him. She put her arms about his neck and his arms slipped naturally about her waist. She kissed the tears from his cheeks and said, "You're such a good boy and I go accusing you of terrible things. I know you'd never have any kind of sexual intercourse with your half-sister. You didn't even like her, did you. She's so skinny, not like a real woman at all. You didn't even kiss her, did you. Did you, Glen? Did you kiss Debbie even once? Hm-m-m-m?"
"No, Mom. Not even once," he said, and drew back to let her see the truth in his eyes.
She smiled and said, "Did you think about it?"
His eyes grew furtive in an instant. She wasn't being fair to him at all. Of course he'd thought about it, but thoughts are not deeds. After all, she'd thought that very day about having sex with her son. How could she keep from thinking about it with a nice stiff prick nestled up against the soft bulge of her belly, with nothing but a damp towel between him and her. She had asked him a very unfair question, and before he could lie to her in response, she quickly said, "It's all right to think about things like that. We all do. But pick a better girl than her to neck and have sexual intercourse with. You are a virgin, aren't you? Glen, don't look so shocked. You and I can talk about such things. Have you ever ... screwed a girl?"
He blushed scarlet, beautiful, and he shook his head, no.
As embarrassed as he was, the situation was far too delightful for Betty to quit. "Ever played with a girl's little titties?"
"No!" he said, and tried to draw away.
"You stay right here, young man," she said, tightening her soft grip about his neck. "It's time we had a talk about sex. It's almost time you started doing something about sex and we'd better talk about it first. Lord knows, your father won't give you any advice, if he ever comes home again. Right now, I don't care if he does or not. I'd be happy enough just living with you," she said, hugging him softly and affectionately, feeling some of the tension go out of his body. "Ever touched a girl's pussy, Glen?"
He tensed, relaxed again, and shook his head miserably. "Mom, I don't want to talk about it now."
"No time like the present." She gave him another big drink of beer, and she took some herself. She placed her son's arms about her waist again, and she put her arms about his neck. He was still blushing, shy, embarrassed, and the hard bulge of his prick still pressed hotly against Betty's tummy. "Have you ever even necked with a girl, honey?"
"I kissed a couple. At parties. Never really necked."
"Tsk. I'm surprised, as handsome a boy as you are. Have you ever seen a naked woman?"
"Pictures of 'em. Playboy and magazines like that. And...."
"And?"
"And my friend Allen has some. Women in ... underwear and things. You know?"
She nodded. "And high heels? And those boots like Mother used to wear? And black silk stockings? Yes, I know about those kind of pictures. I've seen them myself. They excite men. Men and boys, they get all hot and bothered when they look at pictures like that. It makes them play with themselves, and that's not good. Do you play with yourself, Glen?" she asked, and pressed her tummy more warmly against his hard prick, just to be sure he knew what she was talking about.
He swallowed hard and lowered his head, and by not answering, he didn't lie to her.
She kissed his cheek, and she patted his arm fondly as she slid her hand up and down it. She was determined to persist now, for the odd sort of pleasure she was deriving from this close conversation far outweighed any discomfort her son was feeling from his embarrassment. She gave him a fond little slap on his towel-covered bottom and she moved aside just enough to place her hand directly on the hot, hard length of his pecker. He gasped when her fingers pressed against his erection and she ignored that and said, "Glen, do you ever get so worked up you play with your prickie? Do you ever take it in your fist and. ... Maybe both fists? It's certainly more than a handful. Do you ever take your prick in hand and play with it and stroke it and milk it till it feels so good you just can't stand it, and then let all that good rich cream squirt out all over the place? Do you, Glen? Do you ever do that after you've looked at those sexy old pictures your friend Allen has? Do you?"
"Yes, darn it!" he said, close to tears again, but now they were tears of outraged embarrassment.
"And do you two ever do it together?"
"Heck, no! Well ... we did it once together, but I didn't like it."
"I might be raising a bashful little innocent for a son, but at least I'm not raising a homosexual. Oh, it's not so bad to play with yourself, darling. At least until you start playing with girls, women. That'll be soon. Soon you'll have the real thing, instead of those pictures. Or maybe in addition to them," she said, laughing, and making him smile bashfully with her.
"Glen?"
"Yes?"
What Betty had thought of was completely alien to her, but her whole world had turned topsy-turvy since the unexpected arrival of her step-daughter and so now she gave the subject at hand no more thought. She went right on smiling her lovely red smile and she said, "Would you like Mother to teach you how to neck? Remember how I taught you how to do the polka so you could go to those barn dances? Now I think I should at least teach you how to neck, so you'll know to get along with girls." She gave him a butterfly-light kiss on the lips, backed off and said, "Think it over, honey. I'd be glad to do it for you. It's not common knowledge, but a lot of mothers teach their sons about sex, and I don't mean just by talking about it. They let their sons look and they let them touch," she said, and took two steps away from him, drew aside the thin halves of her wrapper and artfully posed with her hands on her widely sweeping hips, one knee bent before the other and those gorgeous big jugs of hers stuck out at him.
"Lots of mothers like me teach their sons just about all there is to know about sex, honey. Would you like Mother to teach you about necking and things? Think about it, darling, while you fetch us a couple more cold beers. Mother will be waiting for you on the couch in the living room...."
CHAPTER TWO
Glen walked to the kitchen in a daze. He wasn't even sure of where he was until the cold air billowing out of the refrigerator chilled his feet. The cold air didn't affect his hard pecker at all. It would have taken a blast from the South Pole to do that. His prick was so hot it was burning. He hoped his mother hadn't noticed its stiffness. He wanted with all his might to neck with her as she had suggested, but he was afraid that if she knew how terribly worked up he was, she wouldn't go through with it.
She was bound to find out. Two minutes on the couch with her and his prick would push the flimsy loose towel aside and erupt all over both of them. She had already felt how hard it was when she'd asked him about his jacking off, however, and that had not seemed to upset her. She was used to his father, a grown man, and for all young Glen knew, grown men had hard-ons all the time. That was logical. After all, lately his prick was hard more than it was soft, and it stood to reason that things would continue to get worse in that department as he continued to grow up. Yes, that was very logical, especially in his current condition.
He took out two very cold cans of beer and held them against his stiff prick. He could barely feel their iciness through the towel and he knew darned well he'd boil the beer before the beer would cool off his prick even a little bit. It wouldn't work, he decided. As much as he yearned to learn a few things from the beautiful woman who happened to be his mother, it would be entirely too embarrassing if all of a sudden he began to writhe and gasp and shoot jism all over her beautiful pure body. He would drink a beer with her and talk a little about sex from across the room, and then take a cold shower and jack off again.
Glen closed the refrigerator and opened the beers. He straightened his shoulders and held the two cans in front of his stiffie and went to face his mother for a nice little talk. She was sitting on the couch with one arm lazily outstretched on the back of it.
She was smiling in warm, calm invitation to him. Her little housecoat was still open and he could see most of her tits, and those tits had to be the biggest, most beautiful in the whole world because they were far better and appreciably bigger than any of the ones he'd seen on the models in Al's pictures-and those models were absolute knockouts. She had her legs curled up under her. Her legs were just a little heavy, but they had a shape that was absolutely terrific, and they looked just as smooth and polished as the wood of the coffee table in front of the couch. Even she appreciated their smoothness, for her hand was idly roving up and down and all around over her thigh and her calf as she sat there smiling at him, waiting for him.
She had turned on the fan and faced it to blow against the couch, and its breeze caused her golden hair to softly stir about her face. It was the most beautiful face in all the world, and he would be the biggest sort of fool in the world to pass up an opportunity to kiss it, to really really kiss it. Glen tried to keep the shyness out of his grin as he padded forward on his bare feet and eased himself onto the couch beside his mother, just under the soft white curve of her inviting arm.
"Here's your beer, Mom," he said.
"And here's your first lesson in sex," she said, and that arm on the back of the couch slipped down to his shoulders and pulled him gently closer. Her other hand went to his cheek and turned his head to face her. Her beautiful red lips loomed ever larger and then touched his, softly at first and then with growing ardor and warmth. He felt his whole body go rigid, but he couldn't help it. She pulled him closer, kissed him just a little harder so that her soft, soft lips mashed out and completely covered his. He felt her tongue tickle over his trembling lips and for a moment he felt he was going to shoot right then and there, but then the delicious taste of that tongue sliding into his mouth made him softly moan through the kiss and lean in her direction. And this caused the beer to spill out from one of the cans and chill his hair trigger prick into at least a temporary state of calmness again.
She laughed and took a can of beer from his hand, drank deeply from it and set it down on the coffee table. Up close, she was even more beautiful. They laughed together when beer dribbled over his chin as he tried to drink, and he felt another lovely tingle in his balls and prick and even in his asshole when she leaned forward and licked the spillage off his chin.
"The tongue," she told him. "That's about the most important sex organ of all. First it lets you talk to each other, communicate, tell each other what you like to do and have done to you. Second it feels good and it tastes good," she said, and leaned forward to kiss him again.
Glen managed to set his beer can down before she did it this time. He was even more excited than before, but now he wasn't concerned about coming. He wasn't concerned about anything at all in the world except that marvelous soft mouth on his, all wet and warm, and that deliciously sweet tongue that was teaching his tongue how to do a dance far more exhilarating than the polka.
He didn't care what happened any more. He put his arms all around his beautiful, wonderful, understanding mother and hugged her just as hard as she was hugging him as they kissed and kissed and kissed. Their lips were always touching, either lightly or very intimately, as she showed him how to use his hands when necking. She didn't have to say a word, and Glen was very glad of that, for this was a kiss that should never end. She ruffled his hair with her hand, ran her fingers through it and caressed the nape of his neck. He followed suit. Her hair was thick, and as smooth as silk. The nape of her neck was very smooth, and he could feel soft muscles under her skin. The heat of the day and the thick veil of her hair had made her neck quite warm and a little damp from perspiration. Glen somehow liked the feel of that. He even liked the smell of her sweat, all mixed up with the scent of her lipstick and her perfume, and subtly spiced with a musky scent that he couldn't quite identify but that he liked a lot. He sucked on her tongue and caressed her face and hair and neck. He mimicked her in every way he could except one, and he hoped he was pleasing her one tenth as much as she was pleasing him. That one way was impossible for him to mimic. There was no way in the world he could push and squirm a big soft tit against her chest to thrill her as she was thrilling him.
"You learn fast and you kiss nice," she told him, cupping his cheek in her hand, placing a series of warm little kisses all around his open mouth, smiling her encouragement through her eyes. "You're a little too eager and a little too rough at times, but that's very understandable and very forgivable. Practice, that's what it takes. Practice kissing Mother gently now, Son."
He let his mouth hang a little open just as hers was, and he was able to refrain from plunging his tongue between her lovely lips when her tongue came out to tickle around his mouth. They both had their tongues out then and hers was lazily twisting about his while he sat there, rigid once again, trying not to be eager and rough with this very special woman.
"French kissing," she murmured. "You like?"
Before he could answer, she was sucking on the very tip of his tongue, very gently, but making him feel it right on down to his balls. He nodded his head in complete agreement with her, and her lips curled into the sweetest sort of smile around his tongue-tip.
"See what I mean about tongues?" she murmured, and now she buried her lovely face in his throat and Frenched him there.
"Oh, Jeezus," he muttered, and clutched her soft shoulder hard for a moment, fearful again that he was going to cum and thus end this total ecstasy. His blood was racing. Her softly sucking mouth, her constantly swirling tongue had his heart thumping loudly. He didn't know if he was going to cum or faint first, but then at the last moment she gave him respite by backing off with that deeply penetrating kiss and smiling into his eyes.
She ran her hand through his hair. She kissed his lips lightly. He saw her through a pink glow, utterly beautiful, radiant, adorable. One luscious big breast swung out as she reached for the nearest beer. She held it to his lips and further revived him, drank herself and set it down, an amazing woman to look so calmly beautiful while he was in such a turmoil of excitement.
"So now you know a little about using tongues for kissing and tasting and making each other feel good. Now let's use them for talking, for communicating. Do you think I'm pretty?"
"Beautiful! You're just beautiful, Mom!" he blurted.
She laughed softly and kissed him. "You're off to a good start. Women always like to hear that. But you've got to be more specific. Where am I beautiful, Glen? How?"
"Your face! Your hair! Your eyes and lips and nose and chin and ... and tongue and every thing about you is just beautiful!"
"You're sweet," she said, and rewarded her pupil with another soft kiss. "But is that all there is about me, honey?"
Her fingers were gently plucking at his hard little nipple, making him feel very funny down there. He was all confused and didn't know what to say, where to begin. Breathing very deeply, feeling very drunk, he looked from the pale tapered fingers toying with his dark rigid nipple to that billowing loveliness exposed by his mother's open housecoat and said, "You've got the most beautiful boo-breasts in the whole wide world, Mom."
She looked down at herself and smiled. She drew her housecoat wide open and she put her lovely hands under her even lovelier breasts and lifted them, as if presenting them to him. He gazed on, wilting, glassy-eyed, as she fondled them freely and said, "Is that what you call them? Boobs?"
"Breasts," he murmured. "You've got beautiful breasts."
"Call them anything you like, darling, as long as you don't call them ugly. They're not too big for you?"
"No. Oh, no."
"I used to call them my boobies," she said, still playing with them, still pampering her hands by letting them feel of that creamy full roundness and the utterly fascinating roughness of the big, big ends of them. "But you can call them anything you like, honey. Boobies, breasts, jugs, tits, anything at all that pleases you, darling. Would you like to play with Mother's tits, Glen? From the way you're looking at them, I'd say you would. Ask me nice, Glennie, and I bet I'd let you feel me up."
"Can I ... play with your tits, Mom?"
"Of course, darling," she said, and she took his two quaking hands and placed them firmly against her marvelous warm softness.
"Oh, Jeezus," he muttered, for his mother's tits were even softer and warmer than he'd imagined they'd be when he thought about them and jacked himself off. There was a firmness about them that made them so very full and yet so upright in their beauty, but he could feel nothing firm under the velvety flesh that his hot little hands were roving over.
"Feel nice, Glennie?" she asked, smoothing her hand over his leg.
"Uh-huh," he mumbled, as with ever new amazement he felt the softness of her very hard nipples.
There were tiny hairs there, just a few of them, the most delicate hairs in the world. The flesh was a lovely, lovely pink, all covered with the most fascinating kind of goose bumps, centered around that gigantic big goose bump that really was quite hard now that he could bring himself to close his fingers on it.
Suddenly he pinched it, quite hard. He didn't know what came over him, he just had to do it. He closed his fingers on it sharply and his mother gasped and said, "OH!"
And suddenly her arms were tight about him and she was breathing hotly in his ear and pushing her big tits into his groping hands and almost moaning as she spoke. "Pinch 'em again, both of them. You didn't hurt me. OH! OH, GOD! Darling, darling, hug me and kiss me and play with my tits. Oh, yes! God, I love you so. Baby, baby, it's all right. Nothing to be afraid of. We're not doing anything wrong. Kiss me, lover. Kiss me hard and play with my tits and make me feel so fucking good I can't stand it!"
Her use of that four-letter word shocked him. And so did her kiss and so did the strength of her arms around him. She was trembling all over now and her body was jerking and thrusting itself at him. He was shocked and frightened, but he sucked on her mouth as voraciously as she was sucking on his and he pinched and played with her hard nipples as she mashed herself against him and moaned in a sort of delirium and all but crawled into his lap. Her arms were breaking his neck, and somehow he just loved it. He bit her tongue and pinched her nipples even harder, and it somehow thrilled him to the core when his beautiful mother whimpered through the deep French kiss and convulsive little spasms began to ripple through her body.
She whipped her mouth away from his just long enough to pant, "Arms around me and hug me as hard as you can. Hard as you can, lover!"
He hugged her till his bones were cracking. She hugged him back just as hard. Amazingly, his hands didn't miss her tits on leaving them for now the hot ripples going through her body made the flesh of her back every bit as exciting as that of her tits.
She fell back on the couch, arms locked tightly about him, mouth mashing and tonguing against his all the way. Then he was lying right on top of her, hugging her body and kissing her mouth, grinding his chest against her tits as she thrust them up against him. His hips were between her legs, and her hips were jerking up against his hard cock, all sweaty and wet and nearly bursting with good feelings. He was going to cum at any minute. There was no way he could help it. He couldn't warn her, couldn't get out of this marvelous embrace, couldn't begin to keep his hot young body under any sort of control in miraculous circumstances like this. But of course, his mother knew what to do.
"The towel," she panted, pushing him away and pulling him to her at the same time. "Get that damned towel out of the way and get your prick in me now, now! Fuck me, Glen. Oh, God, fuck me!"
The damp rumpled towel was whipped out from between their thrusting loins and now he could feel her bare flesh, all furry and hot, with his prick. He was gasping and panting and cumming already, or at least it felt like it.
"Get it in, damnit! Quickly!" she cried, and with amazing strength she pushed him away, and with equally amazing dexterity, she took his bursting cock in her hand and jammed its spewing end in the hottest, slickest, most wonderful place he'd ever dreamed of in his life.
"Oh, Mom!" he gasped, and his hips jerked forward to stick his prick all the way in her, all the fucking way.
He had no rhythm at all, and she nimbly helped him find it with her legs. They were as powerful as they were soft, and once firmly wrapped around his spasmodically thrusting hips, they helped him jam his spewing, shooting, gushing prick down deep inside her with fantastically pleasing results.
It was heaven, absolute heaven. Even in his most ardent masturbations he'd never felt anything approaching this. He felt he was going to die of the intensity of this orgasm and still he kept fucking her because this was a wonderful way to die. There she was right under him, the Woman he loved most in the world, gasping and close to swooning, without a doubt feeling every bit as good as he was feeling. Luscious big tits rolling around on her chest as he heaved and bucked and stuck his prick in her. Gorgeous face all flushed with love and sex, mouth waiting to be kissed while they surged and came together, endlessly, endlessly.
Glen was still coming when he kissed that lovely hot mouth. They sucked on each other's tongues, and now it somehow calmed him instead of exciting him. He clung to her voluptuous body, hugging her and sucking on her mouth and the wildness went out of his penetrating thrusts and he just glided along through heaven quite effortlessly while the pleasure of orgasm became bearable again. He was still alive and he wasn't a virgin any more. He could feel what he was fucking with his cock and balls, and he could savor what it was he felt. The jism was still flowing out of him and he could tell that she was still coming, too, but now it was a relaxing sort of feeling, one that he wished would continue in just this way for the rest of his life. He wanted to laugh and shout and tell the world he'd finally done it, but he was far too comfortable to ever get up from the soft, all-encompassing cushion of flesh under him.
And then, just when all the sensation was fading into a lovely sleepy euphoria, Glen noticed that his mother was crying. She'd flung her forearm across her face in the final throes of their great, gasping orgasms and now he saw tears flowing out from under her arm.
"Mom, what's wrong? Did I hurt you? Oh, gosh, Mom. I'm sorry."
She sniffed and smiled and wiped away the tears. She hugged him and said, "No, honey, you didn't hurt me. And there's nothing for you to be sorry about. I just ... felt so good I cried a little."
He grinned proudly back at her and said, "I felt so darned good I thought I was going to die. Wow!"
"Mm-m-m-m. And you still feel good," she said, and opened his eyes wide with the sensations she produced by tilting her hips up at him and hugging his prick with the wet warmth that was all around it. "Still nice and hard," she murmured, rolling her hips under him, milking out a few more slightly sensational drops of his cum.
"I don't think it's ever going to go soft again!" he said, kissing her dear face, squeezing her big titties to his heart's content.
"Wouldn't that be nice, A hard prick, a beautiful boy, a soft pussy and a willing woman ... we could be happy fucking forever. Ah, what a beautiful dream."
"Couldn't we ... fuck just a little more, Mom?" Mom?"
"You should rest, honey."
"I'm not tired," he said, and burrowed deeper in her, grinning broadly to show his enthusiasm.
"Well, I'm certainly not," she replied, with the same sort of grin, and with a very similar movement of her hips. "You're still nice and hard, still Mother's good boy. Just reach us a can of beer, lover, and we'll fuck some more."
The beer felt good going down. It cooled his throat but it didn't cool down his hot nuts and his hard prick by even a bit. His mother's mouth tasted all cool and sweet when he kissed her again and sucked on her tongue and slipped his tongue in between her lush lips.
"Back up and let me breathe for a moment, you horny little devil," she said. "See if you can sit up without taking your lovely little prickie out of me, honey."
It was a job, but between them they managed to do it. It took a lot of giggling and pushing and pulling-plus a little fucking-but in just a few minutes they were both sitting relatively upright on the couch. They sat in a sort of Yoga position, leaning back on their hands, with their legs intertwined and with their bodies still comfortably joined at the loins. Her spine was curved so that her big tits hung down almost to her belly button, but still they were quite beautiful to behold. The soft bulge of her belly was considerably more pronounced now and there were deep creases between rolls of sweat-gleaming woman-fat, all wonderfully appealing to his hungry young eyes. Her face was dripping with perspiration, her hair lankly plastered against her brow and her eyes were heavy and her smile was dreamy. They all combined to make a beautifully erotic picture for him. And down below was her pussy, with his slim white prick stuck halfway in it as she rested and he filled his eyes with her loveliness. The hair if her pussy was all matted down and in a wet tangle. Her pussy had lips around it, and they seemed to be sucking on his cock just as the lips of her lovely face had sucked on his tongue. She was just dripping wet there, and the smell he'd been unable to identify before was now very clearly identifiable. He breathed it in as he gazed down at their slowly moving union. That could make a man far drunker than beer, and now he considered himself a man. at last.
She saw where he was looking and said, "Give me your hand, honey."
He obeyed her, of course, and she guided his hand to her loins. She place the ball of his thumb at the top of her soft wet slit, pushed it gently against a protuberance there and said, "That's my clit, lover. My clitoris. Rub it just a little. It feels real good when a man does that. Honey, not too hard. Christ, if I cum again so soon I'm just liable to wet my pants ... if I had any on."
A silly little joke, but they both laughed and giggled heartily. In the middle of it, she broke wind. It was the first time in his life Glen had ever heard his mother fart. The day before it would have appalled him, but now it just made them laugh all the harder, especially when she said, "I couldn't help it, honey. You've got me so wide open I just can't control myself down there."
"Look," he said, giggling and enjoying the little jiggles it put into their fucking. "Look, we're making a puddle on the couch cushion."
"It's my fuck-juice. God, I'm just sopping."
"I like the way it smells. Doe it ... taste like that?"
The smile left her face. A beautiful look of anguish took its place and she bit her lip for a moment before saying, "Honey, we've gone far enough as it is."
"What do you mean, Mom?"
"I mean, fuck me, honey. Be happy with that. Fuck my pussy and kiss my lips and play with my titties, honey, and be happy with that."
"I sure do like your tits, Mom. I sure do," he said, and he put his hands on them. He squeezed them (and he pulled and pinched their nipples, and she closed her eyes and slowly shook her head, as if in disbelief at how nice it felt.
Mother and son were still fucking, of course. His prick was bent down just about as far as it would go and sliding up and down through the topmost part of her perfectly slick hole. He was still gently thumbing her clitoris, just as she'd shown him how to do, while with his other hand he was playing with her big tits. Nothing in the whole world, none of the pictures that Al or anyone else could show him could possibly compare with what he was seeing while he was feeling so very much-and it all seemed so effortless. It was all so very natural, so loving and sweet, him doing lovely things with his mother and her smiling dreamily and letting him make them both happier by the moment. There really couldn't be anything at all that would make him much happier. He was quite content with what he had, though there just might be more to experience in their future together.
"Kiss my tits, honey," she said. "Suck on 'em. God, I'd like that right about now."
"Yeah, Mom" he said, and laid back, still fucking slowly with his hard, hard prick and watched as she arched her body forward at him.
The rolls of woman-flab disappeared from her belly and her big tits stood up for him. The pink, pink nipples were pointing straight at his mouth as it descended, wide open, to close wetly and suck heavily on the goose-pimpled big areolas and the hard velvet ball of the protuberant nipple itself.
"Shit. Shit fuck hell damn. That feels so fucking good, Glennie."
"Mm-hm," he said, nodding his head in agreement, never taking his mouth from her succulent nipple.
"Keep fucking me, baby-boy. Keep that beautiful hard cock going in me slow and easy, and let's have one more good cum together before we pass out."
He gave her a hard shove with his cock, and she emitted a gutsy moan that made him jab her hard again. He bit her nipple as he'd bitten her tongue and she said, "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
Feelings surged in him. He'd cum once in the shower and who knows how many times with his first fuck, but he had to cum again-right now.
He let the nipple pop out of his mouth and he grabbed her to him. Legs all entangled, he was still able to hump at her with his hips and drive his strong young prick into her buttery pussy, and even in this close and awkward a position she was able to throw it back to him. He couldn't see his hard cock jamming into her pink and blonde pussy, but he could certainly feel it as he shoved it into her as hard as he could.
She could feel it too, and she let him know it.
"Oh, baby. Baby, baby, baby, give me all you fuckin' got! AAOW! AAOW! I LOVE IT! LOVE YOUR COCK IN ME! LOVE IT!!! MY SON, MY BABY BOY, FUCK ME, CUM WITH ME, AND LET ME SEE IT HAPPEN TO US!!!"
Her strength returned. As hard as he was driving into her, as close as he was to shooting, she was still able to push him away from her for a moment. That moment was just long enough for his prick to come popping and springing up out of her hole and eject its rich white spume up between them. It spurted heavily. It jetted mightily. Creamy geysers spurted up onto her belly and tits and chin so very beautifully that for a moment the sight of it was even more sensational than the feelings ripping and coursing and exploding in him from his asshole to his brain. His jism was as pure and white as snow, and as hot as fiery lava. It was shooting up in spurt after spurt, showering her with its thick droplets while it drained his balls and at the same time filled him with energy to go on.
His slim hips were still convulsively humping, even though his six inches of cock was bobbing and jerking and spitting its load in empty air. She was still cumming, too, jamming her clitoral region against the base of his cock and her softer pussy against his balls, and gasping out words he couldn't distinguish but that he could clearly understand.
They watched together in a very mutual ecstasy as the geysers of jism turned into weak spurts and these in turn became soft, delightful droolings of white that flowed over the ruddy red head of Glen's jerking cock. They sighed together in total relief and in a kind of sadness that it was over with for a while, and then they hugged each other in their impromptu Yoga position and squirmed their sweaty warm bellies together against that strong young organ that had given them both such profound pleasure.
They kissed, lazily and fondly. Betty reached for the closest beer, and Glen got it for her. They were still joined, hopefully forever. They drank, and although it was warm and too fizzy, Glen liked it. He liked everything he could share with his dear, sweet, beautiful mother.
"That was really something, Mom. I'm glad you let me fuck you again."
"My pleasure," she said, and smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Have you had enough education now, honey?"
He shook his head. "You want me to go to college and I'm just starting out in high school. You want me to learn about sex and all I've done so far is fuck a couple of times. Do you think I've learned enough yet, Mom?"
"I can't teach you everything."
"Why not?"
"Your wife. Someday you'll get married and leave me. There are some things you should learn from her."
"Why not learn it all from you? Heck, you know more about it than anyone in the whole world."
"Flatterer."
"Well, it sure did feel like it. Can we fuck some more? My prick's still hard."
"Darling, you need a little rest," she said, and she stroked his cheek and patted it.
He pushed her hand away. "Don't treat me like a baby. I'm not a baby any more."
"Yes, you're a man now," she said, and he nodded in full agreement. "But I'm still older than you and I know what's best for you. We're going to take a rest now. I'm going into the bathroom and clean up and refresh myself and then you're going to do the same. Then we're going to put on some clothes and ... Where's my little cotton wrapper? How did we get that off me? Never mind, honey ... We're going to get dressed and talk about what's happened and how we're going to handle it. Okay, honey?" she asked, and stroked his cheek again, and looked at him with such mature wisdom in her eyes that he had to nod his agreement and at least try not to think about what a tragedy it would be for him if they just talked about it in the future and didn't fuck any more..
CHAPTER THREE
Betty had a struggle getting up from the couch, but with the help of her son she made it. She shooed him along toward the kitchen with instructions to get a couple more cans of cold beer, and then went toward the bathroom on legs that felt considerably weaker than they looked.
She had to lean against the sink and catch her breath before she could begin her ablutions. The vivid white pecker tracks all over her belly and tits and cunt had been left there by her son, her only son, and she'd led that sweet innocent boy straight down the path to the perdition of incest. It was no fault of his. It wasn't even Paul's fault, nor even Debbie's. The responsibility rested squarely on Betty McCall's own shoulders, and she sincerely doubted if those shoulders were strong enough to bear the guilt of it all.
For all her feelings of never-ending damning guilt, she kept on washing herself, for this was something she knew how to do and it was something she needed. Her son's wonderfully virile penis had spewed all over her, and while it was very necessary to wash the white goo off her fair blonde skin, still there was a certain poignant reluctance to end their brief, one-time escapade with a mere washcloth.
Better to jump off a suicide bridge than end it this way. But she had sinned the greatest sin of all and she had enjoyed it immensely, and a quick death was poor payment for that. Even worse, she had totally corrupted a total innocent, and even Hell itself had no place for a sinner of those dimensions.
But suicide was the easy way out, and from now on, there could be no easy way for Betty McCall, mother and wife, respected member of the community. It didn't matter what her husband Paul had done or was doing at that very moment. She had sinned more terribly then he had, for the product of her loins she had lured into sex had lived with her all of his life, while Paul's daughter was a relative stranger to him.
But no use thinking about Paul. He was lost and gone forever, and she hoped she'd never see him again, no matter how good the majority of their married years had been. Young Glen was the one to be concerned with now. By getting maudlin and drunk and worried and lonely she'd succeeded in corrupting him forever, unless she could somehow explain it to him. And how could you explain to a child the things you couldn't understand yourself?
She hadn't meant to seduce him. It had just happened. It would never happen again. By scrubbing with the scented soap she could wash away all traces of their illicit sex together and by sitting down and talking very sanely to him she might be able to explain away whatever guilt she'd injected into him. The lie she'd told him before had been at least partially true. Only a few mothers had all-out sex with their sons. Some of those sons had survived and gone on to normal lives, of this she was sure. And the mothers ... ?
Her generation was unimportant. It was Glen's generation that mattered. She would have to talk to him, explain to him. It could take hours, days, but she would certainly expend the effort to make it clear to him that all this had to be completely forgotten if he was to live a normal, happy life. She was sure she could do it. Glen had always listened to her before, and now, after their very intimate escapade, he should listen to her even more closely.
It was all clear in her mind. Her body was cleansed of sex and freshly scented with soap and her mind was at last clear of worry and filled with logical future plans for her only son. And then he walked into the bathroom.
He came grinning into the room with two frosted beer cans in his hands and without a stitch on. He was so very beautiful that Betty felt a little faint. She tried to capture this picture of him to store in her memory forever, for it would be the last time she'd ever see him naked. Her eyes drank in his tousled hair and grinning face, his hairless chest and his slim hips. She looked at his perfectly formed legs, his athletically slim hips, the strong arms she had felt around her. But most of all she looked at his penis, slim and strong and white, capped with a robustly healthy knob that pushed through stretched foreskin, still standing stiffly up out of her son's small patch of dark pubic hair.
"Honey, you're still up hard," she said, and took it in her hand to test the firmness of it.
"It's going to stay hard from now on."
"It sure feels like it will, dear," she said, with all sincerity in her voice, for the hard hot length of cockflesh in her hand was as strong and resilient as it could be, and fairly bursting with young vitality. There was a light crust of dried semen on the outside of it, and already there was a fresh droplet of his fine young sex juices oozing from the end of it.
"Your hand sure feels better than mine ever did, Mom," he said, beaming his boyish smile down at where she was softly milking more clear seminal fluid from his prick.
"You're not going to do that to yourself any more, are you, Glen," she said, and laid her hand flat under it for a moment to gaze at its masculine beauty as if served up on a platter.
"I won't have to now. Now that I'm a man."
"My little boy, grown into a man already," she said, and closed her hand around his cock and drew the foreskin all the way back, then pulled him easily to her until his exposed cockhead was warmly pressed against the ultra soft flesh of her thigh.
"All because of you, Mom. Is a guy supposed to thank his girl for letting him fuck her?"
She smiled. "The fucking is thanks in itself."
"Then maybe I could thank you by fucking you again. Huh?"
"Glen, you're just terrible," she said, feeling all flustered and flushed.
She took a can of beer from his hand and drank. It felt colder than ice after having his prick in her hand. That hard thing still pushed and burned against her thigh as she faced the mirror and tried to force calmness on herself, not an easy thing to do with Glen's prick insistently poking at her and his hand roving with fond familiarity over her tits.
"Mom, you're just beautiful," he told her. "Let's fuck some more. Please, Mom. Let's get in bed and do it."
"No, Glen. Not now. Maybe not ever again."
He stopped, looking crestfallen, and said, "Didn't I do it right?"
"Honey, you were wonderful," she said, and she had to embrace him for a moment then, to erase the lines of disappointment from his beautiful face. "It's just that it's gone too far already."
"Gee, I thought you were going to teach me about sex. And you said I should practice. And I know there's more ways to fuck than the two we did and I want to learn them all. C'mon, Mom. Just one more time. In bed this time. You're so beautiful and I love you so much I'd just die if you wouldn't let me fuck you any more. Please, Mom, please. You said it wasn't wrong."
His words were very appealing, and so were his hands roving up and down over the swell of her hips. His pleading eyes were appealing too, but most effectively of all his prick was pleading to her as it pushed and probed against the warm hollow of her loins and tummy. She couldn't really leave him in this condition. Any damage had already been done, and a little more of the sweet, sweet sex with her son wouldn't harm him any further.
"Of course it wasn't wrong. You and I know that, but some people might think differently if they knew, honey. You'd never ever tell anyone about this, would you, dear?"
"Heck, no! Cross my heart on that," he said, and did so, and then moved his hand to her breast. He grinned, quite sure of himself now, and said, "Jeezus, you've sure got a great set of tits, Mom."
"They're too big," she said, and lifted their vibrantly living weight with her cupped hands for his closer inspection.
"Like heck," he said, and stooped to kiss a nipple. "They're just right for me," he told her, and sucked on the other nipple, laved it with his tongue. He went back and forth between them with growing enthusiasm and louder kisses, saying, "I just love your big tits ... They taste so darned good ... I'd like to wake up and go to sleep every day with one in my mouth....They're the biggest, prettiest ones I've seen in any picture at all."
As he went back and forth like a humming bird at her breasts, his hard prick kept bumping back and forth against Betty's thighs. Every place it touched was left with a tingling sensation much akin to the feelings that had grown in her stiff nipples. She watched each of his wet kisses on her jutting nipples, growing dizzier and higher on sex all the time, telling herself one more time wouldn't hurt, and that his sex education was far from complete. Her pussy was all nicely wet again and her tits and her buttocks felt huge and warm and good.
"You little devil," she said. "Are you trying to get Mother all hot so she'll let you fuck her again? Are you trying to tease me with your sweet kisses and your hard prickie?"
"I sure am," he said with a grin, and sucked one of her nipples in his mouth and bit it in just the exact way she adored, making every hair on her body stand on end and lovely warm chills course through her beautiful naked body.
Betty pulled Glen up by his ears, turned him and pinioned him against the sink top with her hips. She held him there easily, her pulsing pussy very close to his hard cock, while she gave him a deep, deep kiss that was as torrid as any they'd shared on the couch.
The tangle of their tongues ended with a wet smack and a pair of grins. She tried to look at least a little stern as she said, "It so happens I think you've had enough sex education already, young man. I'm going to wash you now and give you some dinner and put you to bed."
"Aw, Mom," he moaned. "Come on. Let's fuck a little more. Please, Mom."
"No whining. That isn't at all manly. This certainly is, though," she said, and backed off a bit to take his prick in hand again.
"Let me stick it in you. Let me kiss you and play with your tits and fuck you and make you cum."
"No more teasing," she said with admirable calm in her voice. "First a little bath, and then we'll see about your sex education, dear. Hand Mother the wash cloth, Glen."
He have it to her with a look of disgust. She got down on her knees on the bathroom floor, took his prick in hand and began to gently wipe away the traces of their sex together with the warm damp cloth. It was a beautiful thing, and so close that she could see every part of its perfection. With one hand curled around it she dabbed and wiped with the cloth, while Glen leaned back against the sink and stared down at her raptly. He muttered a moan when she pulled the foreskin back as far as it would go, and she asked if she'd hurt him.
"No. Oh, no," he said, and reassuringly put his hand on her blonde head.
"I'll just kiss it and make it well anyway, dear," she said, and licked her lips and pursed them, placed them firmly against the bulging red knob of his prick and tasted with her tongue-tip the continuing oozings from his little hole.
"Oh, Jeezus," he muttered, hips convulsively pushing forward, fingers closing in her hair.
Betty slipped her soft sucking lips over the whole knob of it and back, tasting him thoroughly, before she backed away and said, "Feel better now, lamb?"
"A blow job," he moaned. "Jeezus, now I've had a blow job. I sure do love you, Mom. Wow, a blow job."
"Honey, that wasn't a blow job," she said, stroking his cock, kissing it again. "That was just a little kiss. It was a teaser, honey, and now maybe you've learned something about how to tease your girl friends."
"I'll never have a girl friend but you," he blurted. "Please do that one more time. Please! I'm sorry I didn't know how to tease you right before. Kiss my prick again, just once. It felt so good I closed my eyes and didn't even get to see it."
"Yes," she breathed. "Sit there and watch, darling, while I give you that bath I was talking about before."
Betty licked in a wide circle all around her son's loins. The taste of his boysweat was delicious. She held the base of his cock lightly in one hand as she gave him the tongue bath, and his lovely stiff prick was always there at the side of her vision, brushing against her cheeks and hair. Looking up through her lashes, she saw his eyes and his mouth were wide open as he gazed down at her with either fear or disbelief on his face. He was leaning back against the sink, clutching it with both hands, and the more she washed him with her tongue, the more his body trembled and quaked.
She nuzzled her mouth in the circle of his hair, all around the base of his cock, and he said in an anguished voice, "Oh, Mama. Oh, Mama!"
"Don't you like it, honey?"
"It tickles so good I don't know if I can stand it!"
"Just hold still and try to enjoy it, dear." Actually she liked the way she was making him jump around and do a little stationary jig there in the bathroom. It gave her a wonderful sense of womanly power to be able to exert such easy and yet complete control over him. And of course the hardness and the size and the smoothness of his prick was just delightful. She loved the taste of it. It tasted positively sweet in comparison to the cock of her husband. She took it in her mouth again and give it another good sucking, in an effort to obliterate any thought at all of the bastard she'd married who'd run off with his daughter. He'd already taught her to suck him off. The poor, dumb little thing probably had his cock in her mouth more than out of it.
Paul liked to be sucked off while he was driving the car, and by now Debbie had surely covered a lot of miles with his big salty cock in her mouth. No telling what sort of sex practices Paul had introduced her to. Paul had always been after Betty to let him fuck her in the behind, and though she had refused this, Debbie certainly wouldn't. Fucking her in the ass and making her suck him off, talking her into doing anything at all that pleased him, and only now and then would he stoop to pleasing her by kissing her pussy or fucking her as nicely as Betty was teaching Glen how to fuck.
"Mom! Oh, Mom, I love it! It feels like I'm coming all the time, all the time!" She jerked off his cockshaft and sucked on the knob at the same time. He was tasting better and better to her. Her pussy was itching nicely. Though her thighs were clasped together as she knelt on the hard floor, her pussy felt as if it was wide open and her clit felt swollen to ten times its normal size. She had Glen really dancing now as he stood there panting and moaning and whimpering with sheer delight. His knees were bumping against her tits, and even that felt good to her as she continued to put her best efforts into the one blow job he'd remember for the rest of his life. She would carry him along to a climax every bit as good as he'd had when they were fucking.
She swiped her tongue over his cockhead and said, "Sit up on the sink with your legs open wide."
"Yes, Mom. Anything you say, Mom. Just don't stop doing it, please!"
He looked as if he'd just run ten miles, but he was quick enough to jump up and get his ass on the sink and spread his legs. She spread them wider, arranging his heels on the edge of the sink top and completely exposing his genitals. His prick, white and clean and covered with her kisses, stood up at a sharp angle. His balls hung loosely below in his young sac that was almost entirely free of hair. They were beautiful little balls, all pink and rosy and soft-looking. She blew her warm breath on them and he squirmed all over and banged his head back against the wall and said, "Oh, Jeezus. Oh, Jeezus!"
She leaned forward and placed a soft, sucking kiss on one of them, then licked its soft, soft texture. His balls convulsed and his prick jerked and he gnashed his teeth and said, "Lick my balls some more! Lick 'em good and then give me another blow job!"
Betty leaned back and blew her warm breath against his balls again. He groaned loudly and said, "Make me cum, make me cum!"
He was getting to be as demanding as his father, and she couldn't stand for that. She stood up and leaned over between his legs, pressing her soft belly against his hard sex. She kissed him leisurely and deeply, in spite of the rising excitement and anticipation in her body.
"You like to get sucked off, Glennie?"
"Love it. Just love it. Do it some more," he said, slumped back against the wall, too weak just now to even stir as she kissed him and played her hands over his naked body.
"Most people like oral sex. I sure do."
"Then do it some more. Make me cum. Please, Mom."
"I like to kiss your pretty prick. It's exciting. D'you think you'd like to kiss me down there?"
"Anything. I'll kiss you anywhere you like if you just make me cum."
"Promises, promises," she said with a sigh, and moved away from him to stand in front of the mirror and fluff up her tousled hair.
He lay back panting, staring at her. His hand was twitching as it inched toward his standing prick. He said, "You want me to ... go down on you?"
"I want you to learn a lot about sex, and kissing a woman's pussy is certainly part of it."
He looked down at her heavy, mature loins. "Does it ... really taste like it smells?"
"You tell me, dear," she said.
She opened her legs and ran two fingers down through her slit. It was very wet again. She sniffed her fingers and found the smell of her sex not at all unpleasant. He followed her every action with his eyes. When she held her fingers under his nose, he delicately smelled of them and said, "I sorta like the smell of you, Mom."
"See how you like the taste," she said, and patted his lips.
His chin was trembling as his tongue came out and licked over his lips. She had to turn away then. She had to ask herself if she wanted to make a pussy-licker out of him. His father had never really liked to go down on her, or at least he had done it with less and less frequency. Although she absolutely loved it and could have tremendous orgasms from a mouth sucking on her pussy, it had been months and months since she'd experienced that lovely, sexy thing. She wanted it very badly now, but she still had her doubts about making her son acquire a taste for it at such an early age.
She was dizzy with desire and a little drunk and her bladder was almost bursting with all the beer she'd drunk. She had another sip of it while her son sat there licking his lips and trying to recover his senses while he gazed at her close nudity. He was looking down at her loins, still trying to decide if he wanted to kiss her pussy. She was dying to have his handsome young face down there between her beautiful white thighs, but she felt this was a decision he would have to make for himself-and she was almost certain he'd make the right decision, the one which would please her the most.
Her pussy ached with the need to pee, and with the need for that great, great orgasm she'd soon get from his hot little mouth on her cunt. She shouldn't rush him, and she should pee before she felt his mouth on her pussy or there was a danger she'd pee right while he was doing it to her.
She sat down on the toilet, erect, trying to look ladylike, smiling apologetically at him. Her water tinkled out in little spurts, because she was so tense with the anticipation of waiting for him to voluntarily go down on her.
"Sorry, honey," she said. "I just couldn't hold it. If you decide you'd like to try kissing me there, I'll wash myself again first. Do I ... taste all right to you? Do you think you'd like to ... like to go down on me just a little?"
He grinned in a way that reminded her very strongly for an instant of his father. He had his hand curled around his cock as he got up off the sink and came toward her. "I think I'd like to try it later, but right now I sure would like to get my nuts off."
She got so flustered that her water stopped flowing. "Get your nuts off? Is that any way for a fifteen-year-old boy to talk? And stop playing with yourself. You promised me you wouldn't do that any more."
"I can't help it. You got me so darned hot I just have to cum one way or another."
"Stop that!" she said, anger flaring, and jerked his hand away from his prick.
He put his other hand around it and thrust it forward at her. She glanced up ait his face and saw him leering at her, exactly as she'd seen his father look at her so many times. All at once she was sucking him off again and her water was flowing like a torrent. He put his hands on her head and said, "Yeah. Suck me off, Mom. Make me cum again. Ah-h-h-hh."
She couldn't stop. She wanted him to cum as badly as he wanted to do it. Her hand flew on his cockshaft and her cheeks caved in. with her sucking. She was making whimpering sounds in her throat in her need to please him, swishing her tongue all over his cockhead and bobbing her head up and down on his prick while her water flowed and flowed, and a feeling of great tension built up in her trembling body.
"Make me cum, Mom. Make me shoot. OH, YEAH!" he cried, and the salty sweet stuff spurted out of him, then flowed steadily into her mouth. She sucked and milked him, brows deeply knit in concentration. Her water was flowing to a halt, and in place of that gushing wet feeling came the onrush of impending orgasm. It was right there, so close, and Betty reached quickly down between her legs and rubbed her clitoris-hard.
His body was jerking and twitching as he ejaculated, but then, just as Betty was about to reach a climax of her own, she realized that a good part of his twitchings were because he was laughing, giggling. With his flowing cock deep in her mouth, she looked up and saw the mirth all over his face as he watched her playing with herself. She couldn't stop. She was too close to cumming. She fell back on the toilet, against the cold commode, and her butt slid forward to the edge of the seat. She spread her legs wide and opened her cuntlips, looked up at him panting and pleading and said, "Kiss it. Kiss my cunt, honey, just once and make me cum good."
"Can't hear you," he said, cupping his hand behind his ear, grinning broadly.
"KISS MY CUNT, DAMN IT!" she shouted, and had to start rubbing it again lest all the good feelings drain away and be wasted.
"You look like you're doing pretty good for yourself, Mom," he said, and squatted down and stared right at her open crotch, and at the hand that was frantically rubbing it.
"Kiss it, yes, kiss it!" she said, reaching out to him, too weak with her lust to grasp him.
He wrinkled his nose. "Smells sorta fishy now. It smelled good before, but now ... Now I'll just watch."
"You little bastard," she moaned, and tried to turn away from him so he couldn't share in any part of the wonderful orgasm that was about to flow through her body.
He just leaned over and watched. She couldn't stop rubbing herself, couldn't quite cum. She slumped back obscenely against the commode, legs wide apart, tits lolling, hand flying at her clit.
"Man, look at her go," said Glen, her beloved son, turned traitor now when she needed him most. "Man, look at that finger-fucking," he said. "Cum, Mom! Let's see you cum!"
"IF YOU WON'T EAT ME, THEN FUCK ME!" she cried, and tried to reach for him again.
He dodged his head away, still laughing. She fell back, determined to get her badly needed relief in spite of him, all by herself. By closing her eyes and rubbing hard, by drowning out most of his gigglings with her pantings, she was able to reach an orgasm of sorts, but it was weak, unsatisfying. She lay back collapsed and disheveled on her ignominious throne, exhausted but not fulfilled. He slapped her on the knee and got to his feet, and she dimly saw that at last his prick was limp now.
Hands on his hips, he surveyed her, shaking his head. "That was really something. Boy, if I told anybody about this, they wouldn't hardly believe it. I'm going to take that nap now. I'll fuck you again when I wake up, if I feel like it."
She watched him go, the perfect miniature of his father now. She hadn't done much of a job in bending his father to her loving desires, but it would be different with her son.
CHAPTER FOUR
Glen awoke yawning and stretching and then sat bolt upright in his bed, for there in the room with him was one of the models he'd seen in his friend Allen's pictures-come to life. There in the dimness beside his bed stood such an erotic being that Glen's well spent prick began to immediately rise and swell. She was all blacks and whites, but those two flat colors showed up more vividly than brilliant reds and yellows in the darkness of Glen's little bedroom. The whites glowed with a luminous intensity and the blacks gleamed dully but compellingly. All she had on was black panties and a black brassiere. The pornographer's model who had somehow come stealing into his bedroom wore a pair of panties that were tightly stretched by her feminine fullness. Their lace embroidered leg holes rode high on her very full thighs, and the taut elastic waistband stretched just an inch below the deep dark vertical slit of her navel. Her brassiere was a large one, its straps biting deeply into her soft white shoulders, its midnight black cups completely packed with tit so that the vertical slit there made her navel seem tiny and delicate in comparison.
She had pale golden hair piled high on her head in an array of curls and ringlets. Dark earrings dangled and danced by the thin black choker that encircled her shadowy white throat as she sipped from a coffee cup. In that light her full lips looked black, with just the subtlest tones of underlying red, and her teeth looked as white as snow. Her nostrils looked black and so did her eyes, deep pools of shadow under heavily arched eyebrows as she gazed coolly down at him, one hand occupied with the coffee cup, the other resting comfortably on the big sweeping swell of her hip. Glen was afraid to move lest this most exotic vision of his masturbatory daydreams step back into the glossy pages of his friend's collection of titillating photos. He sat there tense as could be in his bed, hardly daring to breathe while his eyes drank her in and his prick ached with the need to see her, touch her.
"I'm going out for a while, Glen."
"Mom? Is that you?"
"Yes. I just woke you up to tell you that I'll be leaving the house for a while. I didn't want you to wake up and find me gone and worry."
"I've never seen you like this. You look so ... so ...."
"It's only ten o'clock. I feel like going out and having a few drinks. If I don't get home until morning, don't worry about me."
"Don't go," he said, and reached out through the darkness toward her gleaming white thigh, so beautifully tapered and full.
She took a step away, and she said, "If your father can be gone for two or three days, I can leave for a few hours. Good night. Go back to sleep."
"Mom, wait!" he said, as she turned and started toward the hall door, heavy hips swaying gracefully, big oval white buttocks showing under the high rise of the seat of her black panties.
She paused in the doorway, leaning against it in a pose he was sure he'd seen before, and in the dim light of the living room he saw at last for certain that this erotically beautiful woman was indeed his mother. "Yes, son?"
"Don't go out, Mom. I'm sorry if I was mean to you in the bathroom. I was only kidding when I laughed at you. Stay here. Stay and let me ... let me do it to you some more."
"No need to apologize. I'm used to being ridiculed by my men. I'm leaving, Glen. Matter of fact I might not be back for a couple of days. I'm going out on a binge just like your father used to do, but I'm not taking my child with me. There's food in the refrigerator. I'll leave some money on the coffee table. Good night."
She was gone, leaving him with nothing but the strong sweet scent of her perfume and the deep ache in his heart for her. He sat there on his rumpled bedclothes breathing hard for a few moments and then was out of his bed like a shot and after her, stiff prick bobbing along and leading the way.
She was in the bathroom, but she didn't respond when he pounded on the door and called loudly for her. He stood wringing his hands in the hall, his nuts hurting badly with the need to pee and with the need to be close to her again. He tried to calm his trembling body when he heard the toilet flush, and he stammered out another apology when at last she emerged, looking unbelievably lovelier, sexier in the stronger light. She patted his head and smiled at him as if he was still a boy, and she told him to forget about it and go back to bed. She frowned and pushed his eager little hands away when they grabbed at her flesh, so cool and soft and velvety. He tried in desperation to kiss her, and she roughly shoved him away.
"Don't touch me. I need a man, not a boy."
Close to tears now, Glen said, "Please, Mom. Don't go. Can't we just sit down and talk?"
She laughed, bitterly. "I need more than just talk. But ... Take a shower while I have another Coffee Royale and finish dressing. You smell sweaty and there's sleep in your eyes. I'll be in my bedroom."
Again he became paralyzed as he watched her leave him, big hips swinging airily, thin bands of black striping her tapered white back. He hurried into the shower lest she leave him without even another look at her. Cold water pouring down shocked him into startling clarity. He might lose her forever, both as a lover and as a mother. He might already have seen her for the last time in his life.
The disappearance of his father hadn't been so bad, for Glen could now remember when he'd been gone for periods of time before, but had always returned. And Debbie being gone hadn't bothered him at all. She'd been awfully cute to look at, fun to laugh with at times, but he'd hardly got to know her before she'd left again. But his mother leaving? That would kill him, especially now that he at last appreciated her fully. Never to kiss those lips again? Never to touch those big tits? Never again to feel the warmth of her pussy around his sliding prick? Unthinkable!
The cold water made him able to face the reality of the situation, and that deflated him so that he was able to at last empty his splitting bladder there in the shower stall. He leaped out, goose-pimpled and chilled, and grabbed a towel to dry himself as he hurried down the hall toward his mother's bedroom.
The sight of her on the bed stopped Glen as effectively as a brick wall. She was seated on the edge of it with one fantastically shapely leg angled up in the air, drawing a sheer black nylon stocking down over the curves, tightening the stretchy fabric as she went. The tragedy of her leaving him forever didn't affect his prick. That part of him stiffened and rose as he cautiously approached the gorgeous woman on the bed.
Glen stood before the bed in awe, unable to say a word as he watched her draw on the other stocking. He felt a certain comfort in again being in the aura of her scent, but he feared that one more word from him might drive her away forever. With the welts of both black stockings taut around those wonderfully full white thighs that he had once lain between, she favored him with a small smile and reached for her steaming coffee cup. She sipped and offered it to him, and he jumped forward and took it from her hand and drank from it. Strong fumes went up his nose to his brain while the hot liquor and coffee burned down his throat, and he choked and gasped while she smiled in tolerance at him. He was every bit as drunk as before when he handed her back the cup.
"Don't leave me, Mom. Not even for a little while," he pleaded.
"I'll be back," she said, and rose and tugged at the welts of her hose to make the gossamer nylon tight about her knees.
He couldn't move as she went to her dresser, opened a drawer and bent over it. Her bottom was huge, and hugely beautiful. The seat of her nylon panties formed a curved vee as it was sucked into the crack of her lovely ass and disappeared down deep into the crotch he'd once known. She rose and turned and faced him, the upper swells of her tits jiggling tightly as they bulged from the clasping confinement of her brassiere. Another black garment dangled and gleamed from her hand, and as she slipped it around her waist he saw that it was a garter belt with long elasticized straps and chromed clasps on it. Her panties looked tight enough to split as she put her hands into them to guide the garter belt inside and arrange it around the upper swells of her hips, and as she succeeded in thrusting the long black straps down through the leg holes of her panties, front and back. In profile to him, she bent to attach one of the straps, and at last he found his tongue.
"You're just beautiful, Mom. You're like ... some kind of work of art."
"I hope someone else besides you thinks so tonight."
"Mom, don't go!" he said, and came forward and fell on his knees, tears flowing now as he pleaded up at her.
She rumpled his wet hair and smiled down on him, so close and warm and sweet and beautiful. "Hook my garters for me, dear," she said.
"Sure, Mom! Anything you say!"
His fingers were shaking so that it was all but impossible to manipulate the trick little clasps. Now he could at least touch her flesh, and this he did with his lips and his face as well as with his fingers as he helped her dress to leave. Her thighs were beautiful to touch, wonderful to kiss, every bit as sexy as her tits had been that afternoon before he'd ruined everything forever between them. Down on his knees, too distraught and excited to speak, he moved around her to fasten each of the garter snaps in turn, and to find ever newer beauty to kiss and touch and hug.
The flesh of her thighs was terrifically stimulating to his lips. With his nose pressed against the lacy edge of her panties, he kissed that flesh and sucked on it and used his tongue in just the exciting way she'd shown him to use it. When he was kneeling behind her to get the snaps done in back, he learned that her big buttocks were just as sexy and delightful to hug and kiss as herthighs had been, and perhaps more so. Their curvature alone was simply fantastic, and the softness here was beyond belief. He found himself following that curvature right down into the nylon-filled crack of her ass, panting hotly against her slowly warming flesh and taking deep draughts of her supremely exotic and heavily musky scent. Around in front of her again to get that last garter, his fingers were barely functioning. The big bulge of the pussy he so adored was right there under the thinnest layer of the most tightly stretched cloth, and before he got that garter done he had to press his hot cheek against it and kiss it and plead with her again not to leave him alone.
"Oh, I'll come back," she said, and stepped out of the circle of his arms.
On his knees with his prick standing hard, he watched with tragic fascination as she did the last of her garters without his help. Much less of her pale white flesh was showing as she went to the closet, but she was nonetheless sexy and beautiful with the thin black covering of her lingerie on her body scantly showing highlights of white through its dark tightness. When she put her feet into black, high-heeled shoes, Glen thought he might faint with tragic desire for her.
"Don't go, Mom. Please stay with me. I'll go down on you and eat you like you wanted me to if you'll stay."
She smiled. "No. I smell too fishy."
"You don't! I didn't mean that! You smell just great, like flowers and ... and I don't know what. Mom, please!"
She shook her head, breaking his heart. "If I stay and play with you some more, you'll just wind up laughing at me again. I don't appreciate that, and I certainly don't appreciate your threatening to tell people what we've done together when I was only trying to be nice to you."
"I didn't mean that. I was only kidding," he said, with a whining note in his voice that he hated but couldn't keep out. "I know what we did was a secret. I'd never tell."
She stood before her dresser mirror and patted her already perfectly arranged hair. "I'm not sure if I can believe that or not. I don't think I want to take the chance."
He slumped forward on his knees, every part of his body lifeless and dead but his prick. He watched through the tears in his eyes as she bent over to get something from the closet and carry it with easy erotic grace to her big bed. He watched her every movement as she went back and forth between the dresser and the bed, the most gorgeous woman in the world, the most beloved, the one he'd messed up with so badly that it was killing him.
And then he saw that it was a small suitcase on the bed and that she was filling it with her clothes, and he began to weep in earnest and go forward on his knees to her with outstretched arms, sobbing, "Mom, don't go, don't leave me."
"I'll probably be back again in a few days," she said, while he hugged her about her grand big hips and wet the seat of her panties with his tears. "You know, if you carry out the threat you made and tell people what we've done, they won't take it lightly. They'll say I corrupted my son, and they could send me to jail for it.
"But I'd never tell! I'd never!" he declared, pressing his hot cheek harder against the two wonderfully big, soft mounds of her ass, hugging her more tightly still.
"And if I'm going to jail, I intend to have a good time before I go."
"Me send you to jail?!? Oh, Mom! Stay with me. Please don't go."
"Give me a reason to stay," she said, ruffling his hair as he rubbed his tear-streaked cheek against her nylon-smoothed hip, towering over him on her heels, smiling indulgently down on him.
"I'll eat you. I'll go down on you. I'll make you feel ten times better than you made me feel and I'll never make fun of you again!"
"Excuse me," she said, and walked out of the circle of his arms and back to the dresser.
She stood regarding him there for a moment, one hand on her hip, while he watched her with breathless hope in his heart. She was perfectly though scantily dressed, with the single exception being that one side of her panties' waistband had been pulled down by him in his tearful huggings. Now the waistband was stretched diagonally across her belly. Half an inch of the whitest flesh in the world showed between the top of the waistband and the bottom edge of the horizontal part of her black garter belt, and he couldn't keep from staring at it. As if divining his thoughts she placed her hands on her hips and rolled her panties down until more of that most perfect skin showed between the two black garments. Three arched islands of white showed. The central one was complete and perfect, quite straight across its lower border of black, arching in at the sides and bordered horizontally across the top by her garter belt and its straps. The two outer islands were incomplete, for they disappeared around behind her. She'd transformed her full-cut panties into bikinis, and the combination of those and her garter belt was almost too much for him to bear. Those and the bulging black brassiere, the gleaming taut hose, the high-heeled shoes and most of all the woman inside them-there was no way in the world he could let her go.
"Oh, I suppose I'll come back," she said, and carried another double handful of her gossamer undergarments to her open suitcase on the bed.
As she bent over it he could see a great deal of her fanny, and the deep crack between its snowy white loaves. He immediately went forward on his knees and put his mouth there. If his words and his tears wouldn't make her stay, perhaps kissing her ass would do the job.
She seemed to like it, for she made that little purring sound and waggled her hips back against his face. He liked it, too. Her perfume was strong and sweet there, and her flesh was just as smooth and soft and sweet as that of her tits. But he couldn't let himself like it too much. He couldn't let himself be carried away by it, for this was strictly for her. Ifhe went down on her as she'd wanted him to do, if he kissed her below the waist with utter perfection, she might be his again, at least for now.
"Honey, you shouldn't be kissing me there," she said. "Is that a nice thing for a boy of your age to do?"
"Sure is," he said, mouthing wet kisses on the two broadly deep dimples that marked the points of her pelvis, right at the top edge of her garter belt.
"You'd better stop, honey, I can't think straight when you do things like that."
"In a minute, Mom," he said, and lowered his kisses to the arched area of softer flesh between her garter belt and her rolled down panties. He had his hands on her hips, pulling her lightly back against him as he tasted her talcum-smooth buttocks with his lips and tongue. She squirmed her hips and not with an impatience to go. With growing confidence but with consummate care he began kissing her right at the top of the broad valley that would lead into the deep cleft of her ass, turning his head to spread his kisses, concentrating on perfection in every kiss.
She took a deep breath and blew it out, and she leaned forward with both hands on the bed, altering the delicious curves of her bottom for him.
"Really, honey," she said. "We ought to just sit down and talk this over before we both get carried away."
"You've got a beautiful ass, Mom. Big and beautiful," he said, and calmly rolled her tight, tight panties farther down her hips, and slipped his slick tongue down into the deeper crack he'd exposed.
"I've never felt anything like this before," she murmured, and gently rotated her luscious big hips.
He smiled and pulled her panties down further. He pulled the very tight seat of them down until all of her big white ass was bare from just under her garter belt to the band of black nylon that was rolled and bunched just under the big mounds of her quivering buttocks. The smoothness and softness was beyond belief, but Glen didn't draw back to admire it. Her scent was positively intoxicating now, but he refused to get drunk on it. Her purrings and her heavy sighs and the small rolling movements of her hips were all marvelously thrilling, but Glen remained as calm as he could be. He just knelt there concentrating on being the perfect lover as he moved his wet, sucking lips over her big, globular buttocks-as he lightly massaged the deep pads of woman flesh that covered her hips-as he slid his tongue up and down the deepening crack of her ass.
Now it was too deep for him to reach the bottom of her crack with his tongue. The farther he went in it, the warmer and sweeter it got, and he moved his hands back there and spread the yielding mounds with his thumbs.
"Better stop now, honey," she said. "You're ... getting me too excited. Stop, honey. I'll ... go to bed with you now. I won't leave you. Oh-h-h-h. Oh, Glen...."
As gently but as firmly as he could, Glen pulled her buttocks apart just as far as they would go. He saw her anus then for a moment. He saw a tight little puckered mouth that wasn't at all unattractive. It looked soft, and it looked as if it was just waiting to be kissed, so he wet his lips with his tongue and Frenched her there.
"Glen, darling!" she said with a gasp, and her hips snapped back for a moment, allowing him to drive his tongue deeper into her hole and jamming the soft flesh harder against his cheeks. "Glen, that's going too far-r-r-r-r," she moaned, and reached down between her parted legs and stroked his chin.
He pulled away from her enticing fingers and got his breath a bit as he covered her whole upturned ass with kisses. He jerked her bunched panties down a bit more and returned to her asshole, probing deep, eliciting sighs and moans and purrs and squirmings from his adored one.
"Nobody. Nobody ever before," she murmured, body softly heaving with her breathing, hips constantly squirming now.
He drew back and bit the fattest part ofher asscheek just as she'd taught him to nip her nipple with his teeth. He needed no instruction on how to tickle and touch up between her spread legs wkh his hands. Her panties, all bunched and rolled, were in the way of her pussy, but just then it seemed that her inner thighs were an extension of the sweet hole he'd recaptured for himself.
Before he could French her butt-hole again she took a deep breath and straightened up, turned around in the circle of his arms and smiled radiantly down at him. There were tears in her eyes as she bent and kissed him on the mouth, but there was no sadness in the way she used her tongue on him. Their ardor was back, stronger than before, and calmer now.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Did that make you cum, Mom?"
She shook her head and smiled. "I honestly don't know. It was something too new to me. I don't know if I was having one big steady orgasm or if it just felt too new and strange and good for me to orgasm from it this time at all."
"This time," he said. "Then I am going to get to do it again?"
She smiled and kissed him again, stroked his cheeks with her hands while he gently felt of her tits with his. Their tears were gone, their eyes were sparkling with joy and happiness as their lips parted.
"Now I want to kiss your pussy," he said.
A delicious tremor rippled through her and she said, "You're going to like it, dear. So am I. I'll really cum for you that way. It's just wonderful how excited you can get me."
"Me, too," he said with a grin.
"I wore my sexiest lingerie for you. I knew you'd like it. Do you want me naked now, lover?"
"Later," he said, and she kissed him and straightened up for him and posed in close-up view now. She was as pornographically beautiful as ever, perhaps more so, for now her sheer black panties were a thin ebony roll that girded her lush body just below her elegantly big hips. Her soft blonde pubic hair crept up from the black rope of nylon in a delicate fan to grace her perfect, slightly bulging tummy. Her hips were intriguingly cocked to one side. He waited and watched with joyful patience as she slid her soft hands over her softer flesh. They had time now. Plenty of it.
She reached down between her parted legs, cocked an eyebrow in mock apology and said, "My panties are all wet. I am too."
He nodded, spreading the wetness of himself over his peckerhead with the ball of his thumb.
"Do you want to take my panties off, or shall I do a little strip tease for you, honey?"
"You do it this time. My hands feel too nervous now."
With alternating tiltings of her hips, she rolled her panties into a tighter rope of nylon as they came down over her hips and thighs. It was a beautiful thing to see, the downward descent of her panties over the white of her thighs and the dazzling gray of her hose, but Glen kept glancing up to her crotch. He was just catching glimpses of it as she removed her panties. Betty was purposely doing it that way, teasing him, and he knew it and he liked it. She bent over in the removal of her panties, making her tits loom large over his face, and making the hairy juncture of her loins recede into shadows of white and black. She paused to kiss him and pinch his cheek and tousle his hair in spite of her eagerness to feel his mouth between her legs, kissing her box and making her really cum.
She steadied herself with one hand on his head while she took her panties off over her spiked heels, and still he didn't get a clear view of her pussy, for then she stood up with the black nylon bunched in her hand and blotted herself up between her legs with it.
"My cunt's just sopping wet," said Betty.
"My mouth's just watering for it," said Glen. "My tongue feels as hard as my prick. Show it to me. Let me see it before I kiss it."
She cast the panties aside and opened her legs, and she looked down with Glen as she parted the sweetly hairy flesh there with her fingers. It was all glistening and pink among the gold, and now he had a clear view of the hot little organ that was her clitoris, and that she'd already taught him how to caress with his fingers. Before he'd studied her pussy nearly long enough, he was compelled to lean forward and smack a wet kiss, right on the tiny throbbing finger of her clit.
"Honey, wait till I sit down!" she said, and her body stiffened and jerked, and she closed her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to her.
He grabbed her hips to kiss her harder, sucking on her clit and stabbing the point of his tongue against it, and she cried out in sweet agony and threw herself back on the bed, holding onto his head with both hands now.
"Yes, yes, YES!" she called out. "I'm cumming already!"
She threw her legs high and wide in the air, and he squeezed her soft hips hard and sucked and kissed with fervor. The bed was creaking and groaning under her thrashings and kickings while she cried out in deepest ecstatic delirium and he went on kissing her cunt. He'd been a little afraid of the taste of her before but now he found he loved it. His entire lower face was buried in the soft moist folds of her quivering cunt, his nostrils were buried in her wet hair, and his eyes were fixed forward on her beautiful body as it thrashed and crashed and heaved and bucked on the bed.
"MORE, JUST A LITTLE MORE!" she called out in seeming anguish.
"A lot more," he murmured, and took a new hold with his lips on her clit.
"Darling, I'm cumming again-n-n-n-n," she moaned, body going rigid now, shivering and shaking and writhing very slowly.
He nodded, still sucking, looking up over the snowy undulating plain of her black-striped belly to the quivering black mountains of her tits.
"Ah-h-h-h-h, ah-h-h-h-h, UH-H-H-H-H-H!" she said, as she was able to get her two spiked heels dug into the edge of the mattress and push her heavily orgasming cunt up against the hard sucking mouth of her son. She wanted to rip her lingerie off, but she knew he liked to see her that way, and that turned her on even more. She put her hands on her nyloned knees and pushed them farther apart for him, and he sucked and licked right down to her sexhole and back, then tilted his head to the side and took a new bite on her clit. It felt as big as Glen's prick at the moment, and it made her think of his prick. She longed to have that in her mouth at the moment, but her ecstatic joy was bordering on the impossible already.
"Mm-m-m-m-m," he said, as the taste and feel of hot wet cunt permeated throughout his young body. With her hands gone somewhere else, he used his fingers to stretch her sweet flesh open wider for his kisses. He felt like a miracle man to be able to remain in control of himself while such tremendous feelings swept and surged through his body. She must be feeling even more, and he was glad of that, and he wanted her to feel even more than she was already. She'd broken one bra strap with the contortions she was doing on the bed and one of her tits was lolling nakedly on her sweating chest. He wanted to grab it, but there was no way in the world he could take his fingers from the sex flesh he was sucking on. From the corner of his eye he could see that her hands were on her knees, and that her nails had run the stretched nylon hose there. It was almost frightening the way she was throwing herself around on the bed from his kisses, but it wasn't frightening enough for him to quit.
"Stick your tongue in my hole for just a second," she gasped. "U-u-u-u-O-O-O-O-H-H-H-H," she groaned, louder and louder, as she wriggled her hips and pushed herself down on his penetrating oral sex member.
He stuck it in just as far as he could, needing to taste her as purely as he was able to taste her, and mashing his mouth against the portals of her cunt. Just for a second, she'd said, but a second wasn't long enough. He held onto her asscheeks hard with both hands, letting her cuntlips close on his face, and he burrowed deeper with his flicking tongue and ground his mouth hard on hers.
Her body was very rigid again as she lay there with her legs spread as far as they would go. She was making mixed sobs and groans as he got at her cunt with his mouth and her clit with his nose. Her cunt was in the black frame of her garter belt and her garters, her big bare nipple was hard as could be and trembling. Her torso was arched into a quivering bow, waiting for another big orgasm to explode through it while he kissed her cunt and the sex juice laved his tongue and trickled down his throat and tickled down through the open crack of her ass.
"Uh, uh, uh," she said, kicking her feet and jerking her body as it started to happen again. She didn't know how many times she'd cum by then, and she didn't care. Each was better than the last, and this was the one that had hold of her now.
"Oh ... God ... damn," she said, in time with the thrustings of her hips, though he needed no commands to continue. "DARLING! DARLING!" she screamed, as he moved up and sucked on her clit again, just as she needed, very hard, and right now. "EE-E-E-E-EKKK! DON'T STOP! EEE-E-E-E-EKKKK!" she squealed, and one shoe flew off her kicking foot, and she felt the other bra strap go.
"I'm not about to stop," Glen murmured, and got his hands under her thighs and pushed them up toward her head as far as he could.
Immediately her hands encircled them under her knees and pulled them farther. Now she was completely open down there from her asshole to her clit, and Glen took a good long hungry look at her lovely wet luscious sex before he began to feverishly lick her and suck her from top to bottom and back again.
He was driving her absolutely crazy, and she positively loved it. He was too young for inhibitions, too innocent to think they were doing something wrong, and as far as she was concerned, there could be nothing wrong with this. It was simply too good. It transcended anything she'd dreamed possible, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with them being together like this. Another big, big orgasm trembled and quaked through her. She laid as still for it as she could. It seemed to last for long, wonderful hours. He kept it going and going with his marvelous tongue and lips on her two sex holes and in between them and on her clit, her burstingly happy clit. With no effort at all in spite of the cataclysm ripping through her, she held her legs back for him. He was poking his fingers in her holes while he sucked on her clit now, doing wonderful things to her to extend her period of intense joy. She was still eking great pleasure out of the orgasm when she told him to quit for a moment.
"Quit and fuck me now, honey," she said, exhausted but filled with energy, smiling warmly at his flushed wet face as it arose. "Fuck me in the ass. I want to see how that feels, dear, and so do you."
"Yeah," he said, and fitted the knob of his cock there and pushed it right in.
She was all slick and wet there. It didn't hurt a bit. Hurt? On the contrary, it felt just marvelous. The first penetration was every bit as good as the first she'd felt in her cunt, years and years ago, and when he started to move, it felt even better.
"You're tighter here," he said, sliding it in and out as he looked down, watching.
"You like it better than my cunt, honey?"
He shook his head. "Nothing's better than your cunt."
"Stick your pretty prick in me there now."
"Plenty of time for that later. Tomorrow. The next day."
"Forever."
"It really excited me making you cum like that."
"M-m-m-m. It was so good. You're such a good lover, such a good pussy licker. You liked it?"
He licked his lips, smiling, still moving his cock in her butt. "I loved it. I wish I could kiss your cunt while I was fucking you."
"Me too, but this is just awfully good right now. Touch it, honey. Just touch it once and I'll cum for you."
He grinned. "Where? Here?" he said, and touched her with both hands at once, slipping fingers in her hole, pulling and pushing on her clit, watching and feeling himself cum with gloating satisfaction while this sexiest woman in all the world went through her best orgasmic dance yet for him.
With her sucking asshole, she milked every bit of jism from his body, and there was a lot of it. He squirted and squirted and squirted, rocking back and forth on his knees, pinching her clit and her nipples and poking his fingers in her cunt while his pecker filled her butt to overflowing with hot cream. A long time before-or perhaps only minutes-she'd been a professionally perfect pornographer's model, but now she was even sexier after the transformation he'd made take place in her. Her make-up was all smeared and her smooth face was contorted into a grimace of lustful joy. Her careful hairdo was a tumble of damp yellow curls around her rocking head. Her tits had burst free of their bonds and were flopping back and forth on her chest. Her hose were torn and only her garter belt was in place, and this was bunched up around her waist and not doing a bit of good. One shoe and one earring was missing, she was sweating and her perfume was blended with the smell of raw sex, and she was absolutely beautiful to him, even after the last drops of his jism had flowed with such delight into her body and they were both sighing and smiling and relaxing together.
He leaned forward on her and hugged her about the waist, happy, content. "Can I get you anything, Mom?"
She hugged him back, drew him up and kissed him. "I have everything I need."
"Me, too," he said, still hard, still burrowing in her ass, but softer now, more comfortably. "Sleepy?"
"Mm-hm."
"Too bad. Maybe I could get you some coffee. Wake you up a little so's we could have some more fun."
"No thanks, honey. It's time we both got some sleep now."
"Can I sleep in here with you tonight?"
She hesitated, then said, "No, dear. We'll stay in our separate beds. I think things will work out better that way."
"Whatever you say, Mom, but I sure would like to sleep with you tonight."
"You devil. We wouldn't get any sleep at all, and you know very well tomorrow's a school day for you."
CHAPTER SIX
In the morning Glen was once again awakened in his bed by his mother. She looked entirely different than she had the night before, but nonetheless beautiful.
She was wearing an outfit that was somewhat less bizarre than her black lingerie-a bright cotton blouse and a pair of faded jeans, and on her feet were the sandals she usually wore around the house. Her blonde hair was brushed back and tied with a green ribbon. She smelled of soap rather than perfume. In place of the heavy make-up of the night before she had on only a touch of pink lipstick. The exotic pornographer's model was gone. Her place had been taken by this lovely and familiar woman who was his mother, with a few subtle differences-there was a knowing look in her eyes and in her smile, her hand was resting lightly but intimately on his upper thigh, and her greeting kiss was exceedingly warm and deep.
"Sleep well, Glen?"
"I sure did. You?"
"The best sleep I've had in days. You'd better get up now, honey. Can't have you being late to sch ... Glen, whatever in the world is this hard thing you've got under the covers?"
He squirmed in a joyful ecstasy of sexual embarrassment as her hand closed around his early morning erection. "Oh, Mom. Mom, let's do it, let's screw," he said, reaching out for her.
"How can you even suggest such a thing?" she said, her back stiff with mock indignation. "I'm not that kind of a girl."
He giggled and said, "Let me kiss your cunt and fuck it. You'll like it. I'm a guy that knows what he's doing when it comes to fucking."
She rolled her big blue eyes and looked properly flustered. She said, "How dare you say a thing like that to me!" She didn't let go of his prick through the covers as they giggled together over the little game they were playing.
It was she who resumed the game. She sat up straight and looked sternly concerned. She pushed his hand from her breast and said, "Glen, I really am worried about how swollen your penis is this morning. Does it hurt, dear?"
"Sort of," he said, unable to keep all the adoration out of his eyes as he lay there breathing in her pure sweet scent, and wriggling like a happy puppy under her hand.
"I think I'd better have a look at it. Would that embarrass you, Glen?"
"If it's gotta be done, I guess I can stand it."
He watched, flushed and breathing hard, as she carefully drew down the covers. His prick was always hard at that time of day but on this morning it seemed to be straining upward more rigidly than ever. It seemed to have a different quality to it, too. It looked like the same boy's prick, smooth and white, slim and long, topped with a plum-like rosy knob that stretched his foreskin widely. But though the appearance was the same, it was now the prick of a man, for it had at last been used in the proper and complete manner. Manly though it was, it was just as sensitive and excitable as ever when Betty encircled its base with her thumb and forefinger, while her other fingers curled down under his balls.
"My, that's terribly swollen," she said. "It looks all sore and red on the end. I don't think you can go to school in this condition, and you really can't afford to miss any more school. I can't imagine what's wrong with it," she said, stroking it lightly now, making him clutch the covers and stifle a moan of delight. "Do you think I should call the doctor?"
"You've been a pretty good nurse when I've been sick before, Mom. I bet you can take care of it."
"Feels feverish, too. See how red the end is? And look, there's a little discharge coming out the end of it. I don't know whether to use a hot water bottle on it or an ice bag. Hmm-m-m-m," she said, as she continued to very lightly and delightfully stroke it while looking down at it with great concern.
"It's hurting better and better, Mom."
"Hm-m-m-m-m, I wonder. Perhaps if I just ... mm-m-m-m," she purred, and bent over and slipped her soft lips over it.
Slowly and gently she sucked it right in her mouth, and quickly and delightfully young Glen was sent soaring high on the wings of pleasure.
"Mom, Mom, Mom," he crooned, stroking her golden hair, watching her downy cheeks sunken in so beautifully as her glistening pink lips slid up and down over his cockshaft. "I love you so."
Even with his cock in her mouth she was able to smile at him. But she took it out now, and she slid her cheek down its wet length, blowing her warm breath against his balls until she was kissing him there. "I love you, too," she murmured, and up she went again with her mouth until she was able to suck him in again.
She would scarcely let him touch her. She kept gently pushing his hands away each time he put them on her tits or her hips, but he was happy enough as he was, just being able to feast his eyes on her while his prick was being sucked in such an expert and loving manner.
Betty took it out of her mouth and licked it like a lollipop. Her tongue slurped all up and down its throbbing hard length and around the ridge of its knob. She had drawn back the foreskin to bare the head of his prick completely, for that was the most sensitive part of it. His prick was softly and continuously oozing clear seminal fluid, and she was fastidiously lapping it up as it came out. Now and then she'd draw her head back and merely blow her breath against his prick and balls, and even that felt ten times better than his usual masturbations. The ribbon that drew back her blonde hair allowed him to see her beautiful face throughout the experience, and he worshipped her then, he absolutely worshipped her.
"Mom, it feels so good I can hardly stand it," he said.
"And it's going to feel better ... soon," she assured him.
"I know. I know," he moaned, and he felt his balls swell and the tinglings in his legs and spine and everywhere in his body began to grow out of control, and she immediately sensed this.
She smiled for a moment before taking his cockhead in her mouth. Her clear brow knit into furrows as she concentrated on giving her son the utmost pleasure now. One hand was laid flat on his belly to hold him at least a little still, and the other began to smoothly but rapidly massage his cockshaft, coaxing out the semen that was already on its way. Her soft suction helped it along, as did the tongue that whirled and swirled so slickly over the bulbous red head in her mouth.
"I'm exploding!" he cried. "I'm cumming, shooting! Feels so wonderful to cum-m-m-m-m cum-m-m-m-m, CU-M-M-M-M-M!!"
Glen's orgasmic thrashings tore up the bed. There were times when he thought his orgasm would go on forever, times when he thought he'd die from the intensity of the pleasures of it. He groaned and moaned and thrashed and shot, and throughout it his mother, his wonderful faithful mother stayed right with him, sucking his cock and jerking him off, swallowing his semen as fast as it came out, putting her all into making her little boy happier than he'd ever been in his life.
His body was still tingling everywhere when at last she drew back, smiling and licking her lips. She gazed fondly down at the wet stiff prick in her hand, then returned to it with her tonguetip to catch the last drop of his semen slowly oozing out of his cum hole. The night before he'd been able to cum over and over again while he stayed hard for hours, but this morning's blow-job was of such tremendous proportions that already his lovely stiff prick was wilting in his mother's hand.
She pressed it to her cool, cool cheek and she kissed it one more time. She said, "I think you can go to school today after all, dear. We seem to have gotten to the root of your problem."
"Mom. Mom, that felt so good!"
She patted his hip and moved up on the bed to kiss him lightly on the lips. She patted his cheek and murmured, "It was pretty nice for me, too. But get up now. Take your shower while I finish fixing your breakfast. And make your bed before you go to school. You've gotten it into a terrible tangle, dear."
He was smiling dreamily as he watched her leave his room, lovely big hips swinging liltingly in her tight old jeans, blonde hair bobbing under its ribbon. His life would never be the same. She had opened the door to a whole new world for him, and he'd be eternally grateful. He knew very well what they'd been doing was wrong, but at the moment he felt far too good to worry about that.
There were a lot more smiles between them than usual during breakfast, but she wouldn't permit him to get sexily familiar with her. When he finally left, she gave him an extremely affectionate kiss at the door, slipping her tongue in his mouth and giving him a delightful little squeeze on his butt.
"Have a nice day at school, dear," she said. "And don't forget to bring your homework home."
"I feel like staying home today."
"None of that. Run along, dear." He kept looking back over his shoulder as he walked down the block, hoping for another glimpse of her to last him through the day. As it was, her lovely countenance was in his mind almost constantly throughout his classes. Somehow he was able to keep up with his teachers, but he thought about his mother a lot, and he thought about her in a different way, for he was a changed man now.
Looking around the classrooms during the day, he wondered how many of his schoolmates had lost their virginity. Several of them had bragged about it, but now that he knew what the score was when it came to sex, he knew very well that some of these braggarts had been lying. From their stories, it was now apparent that they simply didn't know enough about sex to have engaged in it. Some, however, had probably screwed some girl, just as they had said they did. But in comparison to the all-out sex he'd had with his mother, their sexual escapades were little more than masturbation. They had had frantic, fumbling experiences in the back seats of cars or on some girl's couch, while he had experienced-and greatly enjoyed-just about every facet of sex he'd ever heard of. Others in his classrooms had surely had sex and then kept quiet about it. He tried to pick these out during the day, and he at last decided that these were the ones with quiet, calm demeanors and an attitude of easy confidence about them. There was no need for them to brag about their sexual prowess, for these were the ones who simply enjoyed it as a natural and very delightful function. They had their good times and they kept quiet about them as they .looked serenely ahead to more of them.
He wanted to be like those people, but he was different, for he had had sex with his mother. And then he thought some more, as the day went by, and he wondered which of these calm, self-assured enjoyers of sex had experienced it with their mothers, or with their sisters. If it happened to him, it must have happened to others. He and his mother weren't so different from other people in the neighborhood. The opportunity was certainly there for it to happen. When two people of opposite sex live under the same roof, sharing the same table and bathroom and couch, sharing the same instincts for sex, some of them inevitably had to get together and really do the things he and his mother had done. He tried to pick these very special ones out of the familiar faces of his classmates, and with a shock he wondered if any of them could pick him out as a special one too.
He remembered at the end of the day to bring his homework, and he thought about matters further as he slowly walked home from school. His mother had told him repeatedly that they were doing nothing wrong, but inside him he knew that they were. He remembered something from the time he used to go to Sunday School, something about the sin of incest, and it frightened him a little. Although he never read anything in the papers about people going to jail for incest, that didn't mean it didn't happen, for he read only the comic section anyway. Could he be sent to jail for what he'd done with his mother? Were people punished just for feeling so all-over good? Would his angry father and the police be waiting for him when he got home? Even worse, was his beautiful mother already in jail, just for being so darned nice to him? He clutched his schoolbooks tightly under his arm and began to run the rest of the way home.
There wasn't a sign of a squad car around his house, but that didn't mean they weren't waiting for him just inside the door. They might be there with brandished guns and opened handcuffs, but that didn't stop Glen. His mother was the one who was in real danger, and so he charged on in, determined to save her if it cost him his life.
"Mom!" he called. "Mom, where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm in the kitchen baking cookies, honey," she called back.
There wasn't a trace of peril in her melodious voice, but Glen charged ahead with a heart filled with bravery, knowing that it still might be a trap. He stopped in the kitchen doorway as if it was a brick wall, totally stunned by what he saw.
She was in the midst of preparing cookies, just as she'd said. He'd seen her that way-or almost that way-dozens of times before in his life. She was wearing her pink gingham apron as she stood at the sideboard of the sink using her cookie cutter. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and she was smiling sweetly at him from over her shoulder. Her mixing bowls and spoons and her recipe books were all at hand, and already Glen could smell the wholesome aroma of the first batch of cookies baking in the oven. It was exactly the same scene he'd encountered so many times in the past, except that his mother wasn't wearing a stitch under her familiar pink apron.
The bow of her apron strings was draped down over her big bare ass, and her lovely vee back was completely naked. As she bent over to cut the cookies he could see her big tits jiggling freely under the skimpy bodice of the kitchen garment. Her pussy, of course, was barely covered. He thought he caught a glimpse of it as she turned to face him, wiping her floury hands on her apron as she spoke to him.
"Is that your homework, Glen?"
"Huh?" he said, staring, awed, delighted.
"I asked you if you'd brought your homework home as you should have."
"Homework? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I brought it home. Gawd, do you ever look sexy!"
"In this old thing?" she said, fluttering out the apron skirt with her hands and tugging at its neckband, causing her tits to jiggle and giving him another flashing look at her cunt.
"Yeah," he murmured, grinning. "In that old thing."
"Aren't you going to kiss me hello before you go out and play with the boys?" she asked.
He dumped his books on the table and came forward. She half turned to face him as they met, and she greeted him with sexily drooping eyes, an open mouth, and a beckoning tongue. They kissed slowly and sensuously, with all the time in the world, with none of the intensity that would soon enter into their embrace. One of Glen's hands went under the bow of her apron strings to rove and fondle and caress over the big round naked buttocks that had greeted him at the doorway. His other hand freely felt and hefted her big tits through the thin cotton of her apron. Her ass was smooth, terrifically rounded, so much better than the little bee-bee butts he saw at school all day. Her tits were far better too, because they were so very big, and because he could feel of them. The crack of her ass was deep and moist, and it led down to an even deeper, even moister hole that he'd soon have his burning cock in. Her nipples were up as firmly as his cock, pushing out the flimsy fabric of her apron and getting bigger and sexier still as he plucked at them with his fingers.
And while he was touching and kissing her, she was kissing and touching him. Her shoulder was against his, and her hand was moving over the front of his pants, pulling and stroking at the hard hard organ there.
She drew away. They looked deeply and lovingly into each other's eyes, and then she looked down to where her hand was. "It's still hard," she said, "and I imagine it still hurts to have it that way. The treatment I gave you in bed this morning hasn't seemed to help. Do you think we should take you to a doctor now, or should we have one more try with one of Mother's home remedies?"
"It doesn't really hurt now. In fact, it feels pretty good as long as you're touching it," he said, returning her teasing grin, going on with his part of the delightful game by playing with her naked fanny and feeling of her tits.
She kissed him again and sucked on his tongue a little. She said, "I'm right in the middle of baking cookies, but I'd better have a quick look at it. Undress, darling. Everything."
"In the bedroom?" he asked, already unbuttoning his shirt.
"Right here," she said, and turned and leaned back against the sink. "I want you to take off every stitch of your clothes, honey, while Mother watches."
He stood in the middle of the kitchen and started peeling down to his skin. His mother watched his every move with keen interest, and he drank in the sight of her standing there.
The ruffled apron skirt had formed a triangular valley at her loins, as if her pussy was in a sucking mood. Her big round tits were drawn down by their weight into the hammock formed by her apron's bodice, and the big, protuberant nipples seemed to be staring at him too as he disrobed. He took his time about it, as difficult as that was, for he knew she Was enjoying the sight of his emerging naked body. Uncharacteristically for him, he hung his clothes over the kitchen chair as he undressed. She scratched at one of her nipples while he was undressing, and he licked his lips and stared straight at it as she did so. Taking off his pants, he licked his lips again as his gaze followed her hand down to her apron skirt. She frankly rubbed her twat through the thin gingham while he took off his trousers. His prick was so stiff it was making a tent out of his Jockey shorts. It bobbed up and down, pointing straight at her, as he stripped the shorts down his legs, and it led the way as he advanced on the beautiful near nude woman standing there at the sink.
She took it in hand right away, bending over to look at it and then kiss it. She held it very lightly in her soft hand as she straightened up shaking her head. "I don't know what we're going to do about that. You certainly can't be running around with a thing like this in your pants all the time. I'll finish these cookies and then we'll see what we can come up with in the way of relief for you, dear."
Betty turned her back on him and resumed her work with the cookie dough, and Glen immediately got down on his knees and began kissing her beautiful white ass. She was already so excited that her hands and her knees were trembling, but she maintained her facade of motherly coolness, the better to enjoy this time with her son. His hands were shaking too, and so were his lips, as they moved everywhere over her globular white buttocks, kissing and feeling and licking the luscious mounds and spreading them apart to taste the salty sweet dampness deep in the valley of her sex. He kissed down the backs of her legs, sucked on the backs of her knees, and thoroughly enjoyed each little tremor of delight that went through her body as a result of his arduous kisses. He traced patterns with his tongue as he moved up her legs again, licking her inner thighs, and she had to stop with the cookies and grip the edge of the sink with both hands to steady herself.
Glen got to his feet breathing heavily, kissing her bare shoulder and reaching around inside her apron to feel of her bare tits. His stiff prick was sprung up under her big crotch, feeling the humid feverish heat there as he murmured, "Let's fuck, Mom. Come on. Let's feel good."
"I've got to finish these cookies," she said, quite breathlessly in spite of her determination to play the calm one. She rolled her big hips softly and pushed them back at him, and she closed her heavy thighs on his thrusting pecker to further inflame his senses to a point where he'd last for a long long time with her. She already had him so hot he was panting. When she turned to give him her tongue over her shoulder, she saw the glazed look of lust shining wonderfully in his eyes. She gave his balls a squeeze as she said, "Excuse me, dear, I've got to put another batch in the oven."
"I don't want cookies, I want you," he said.
"Take your time," she said, and elbowed past him with the cookie sheet. "Take your time and have both."
Her ass was simply too much to resist as she bent over the oven. Glen went forward and got on his knees again. He placed his trembling hands on it and gazed at its moony beauty up close for a few dazzling seconds, then parted the quivering mounds to expose her sweet little asshole for his kisses. He tongued it and sucked on it in a fever of delight, urgently needing to make her feel as wonderful and excited as he was feeling. She rolled her hips around in that special, sexy way of hers and pushed back at his mouth, and he licked all around between her asscheeks until she closed the oven door and stood up straight again.
"You devil," she said, ruffling his hair and smiling down on him. "How am I ever going to get these cookies done when you do nice things like that to me all the time?"
"Let's do it, Mom. Let's do it now," he pleaded.
"I've just got one more batch to cut," she said, and went to the sink.
He followed right behind her on his hands and knees, stiff prick dragging under him and all but dripping on the tile floor. This time he went to the heart of things. As she stood at the sink with her cookie cutter, he pushed her legs apart and got between them. She didn't stop working, but she moved her hips back from the sink, and Glen could then lean back against the cabinet there and face her pussy.
In his eagerness he grabbed her around the thighs and began to kiss her cunt through the pink gingham. She pushed him away just long enough to pull the cloth up from between them, and then she parted her lovely legs and settled her furry cunt against his sucking mouth.
Just a few moments of his educated sucking effectively destroyed the rest of the game they'd been playing. Betty had to set the cookie cutter aside and hold onto the sinktop with both hands to support legs that were rapidly having their strength sucked out through her pussy. He was really going at it. She'd been afraid that he'd have some guilt about their new relationship that day at school, and had therefore staged this erotic kitchen performance in order to bind him to her and insure his silence, and of course, to enjoy his hot young body some more. She hadn't counted on it working so well. He was completely aroused, totally passionate, kissing her cunt in a wonderfully exciting manner. She couldn't see his face, for the apron obscured that, but she could feel every movement of his mouth and tongue, oh, how she could feel it!
"Honey, that's just wonderful! Suck me some more, just a little more, and I'll fuck you so good, so very good."
He nodded his head, ever sucking, and she tilted her trembling hips up to give his mouth more of her cunt.
"Suck me off like I sucked you off this morning. Make me cum like this, baby. Oh, shit! It feels so fucking good! Uh, uh, uh!"
The back of his head was bumping against the cabinet, for now she was fucking his face. Her big hips were jerking forward as if his tongue was his prick. His tongue was against her clit, his lips were wrapped firmly around it, and she was fucking it steadily. He loved it. She did, too. That was obvious, for she was saying obscene things and muttering and whimpering. She was churning her body all around now in the throes of delight, while he went on sucking her cunt and hugging her big hips as hard as he could. He fumbled about and jerked her apron strings open, and then he could look up through the shadowy gingham and see her big tits rolling down as she orgasmed for him. Even cunt juice was dripping down over his chin and chest, and still he sucked her and made her cum some more, just as she'd done for him. Even the light film of perspiration breaking out on her voluptuously big body was a delight to him, and he went right on sucking her cunt until at last she staggered weakly out of his hot embrace, holding onto her cunt with both hands and looking at him with slack-jawed adoration.
"You really made me cum," she said. "God, you really did!"
"Come here and I'll do it some more," he said, leaning forward and licking his lips lasciviously.
She closed her eyes and shivered, still holding onto her cunt through the thin wet folds of her apron. "Jesus, I'm still cumming a little."
"I'll make it a lot," he said, going forward at her on his knees. "Just like you made me cum a lot this morning in bed. Lie down if you want to, but I want to make you cum some more, Mom. Man, I really like it when you cum."
She immediately laid down on the kitchen floor, rucked up her apron skirt about her waist, spread her lovely legs and reached out to him with both arms. "No, fuck me," she said. "Oh, how I want to get fucked by you now, right now!"
Her cunt was wide open, pink and glistening. He climbed right aboard her lush, hot body and slipped his prick right into it. She moaned pitifully, joyfully, and she threw her arms and legs around him, quivering everywhere and throwing her hips up to meet his quick, sure entry.
"You still cumming, Mom?" he asked, grinding his throbbing cock deep inside her.
She couldn't answer him. She couldn't speak. She could only gasp and groan and shudder and throw her hips up to meet each of his hard jabs into her body until starbursts of dazzling light were accompanying the waves of deep pleasure surging everywhere in her body. Glen gloated over her. His spirit soared with the knowledge of what power he held over this woman who had been such an enduring influence on his life, and with that soaring of the spirit, his body took off soaring, too.
It started with his balls, ripped up through his anal area and spurted out through his prick, sending shock waves of sheer delight tumbling everywhere through his body. Each orgasm he had with her seemed better than the last one. This one he could feel in every bone, in every hair, in every cell of his body. And each time he orgasmed with his mother, he had more of his senses remaining to him, somehow. As intense as his delights were, he was able to see her and feel her and smell her even as his guts were spurting out through the end of his pistoning prick. He fucked her till his semen and her cunt juices were foaming and bubbling out of her cunt around his cockshaft, and at last they wilted and slowed to a halt, grinning broadly at each other, kissing fondly.
Betty's legs flopped down on the kitchen floor and she exhaled heavily, her body deflating under his weight. "Oh, wow w-w, she said. "That was a good one."
"Gets better every time."
"I know. It scares me to think ahead."
"I'm thinking ahead already," he said. "When can we do it again?"
"Do you want to fuck your poor old mother to death?"
"I'd like to try," he said, and stirred his cock in her flooded pussy.
"Mm-m-m-m," she purred, and undulated her hips for him.
They were just merging into another preliminary kiss when Betty vigorously shoved him away, saying, "Look out! Let me up! My cookies are burning!!!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning Betty woke Glen up with another blow-job. She stealthily sneaked into his room, fearing that her pounding heart might awaken him prematurely, and peeled back his covers with hands that were trembling with excitement.
His prick was standing up magnificently, young and strong, the color of pink and white roses. Though his eyes were still closed in slumber, the single eye of his prick was wide awake and staring at her, waiting for its good-morning kiss.
She obliged it with a tenderness that subdued her eagerness to a point where she'd tasted him thoroughly before he came awake. "Oh, Mom," he said, and laid his hand on her head. She went on sucking him, kissing him, neither of them saying a word until she'd brought the butterflies to life all inside his skin and had him moaning with happiness and pouring succulent life from his lovely hard young prick into her lustful old body.
She had slept unusually well, but ever since the alarm had gone off at six she'd been thinking about tasting him-all the way. It was the second time she'd given him that early morning gift of love, and she hoped it would become a traditional way of her waking him up each morning. She'd looked forward to sucking him off while she was showering, dressing, preparing for breakfast, going through all her waking movements, and she hadn't been a bit disappointed with the experience when it had finally come about. She wanted more now, but she knew she shouldn't carry things to excess. She wanted him to kiss her aching pussy and then fuck it as thoroughly and lovingly as he had the evening before, but she refused to carry their illicit love to any excess.
She wanted to keep him in the house with her forever, running around naked, teasing each other, fucking and sucking whenever the whim came upon them, but she also wanted to extend their love affair and make it last as long as she could. She knew the dangers of burning out one's passion. That had happened with Glen's father, and it wouldn't happen with him if she could help it. His father was gone-hopefully forever-and for as long as she could she'd keep Glen for her lover as well as her son. She knew someday he'd leave her, but that was in some far distant time that she couldn't really think about at the moment.
She gave him a nice breakfast, and she sent him off to school with an even nicer kiss. She knew he'd think about her that day, but he couldn't possibly think about her as much as she'd be thinking about him. Though she was quite madly in love with her son, she could still think about their future rationally, for she was mature. He lived for the moment, without a thought to the future. But she, with her husband and his income gone, had to think and reason and look ahead beyond the next torrid embrace with him.
And that wasn't all so easy to do, for her body hungered for him mightily. She had made oral love to him that morning at the expense of her own needs. If she'd followed her inclinations and jumped in bed with him, they'd still be fucking now, and he would have missed this day of school. If they'd slept in the same bed, they'd both still be snoring now. She had to meter out their sex together. That wasn't easy on her, for her body was in a constant state of hunger for more of him.
It wasn't easy at all to deprive herself of his ready availability, but on the other hand the constant state of horniness she was now experiencing made for a great many moments of highly pleasurable reminiscences and speculations.
When the breakfast dishes were done and her morning household chores were well under way, Betty curled up in a chair with a cigarette and a smile and thought back to the evening before.
Glen had had his homework to do, and despite his amorous protests, she had insisted that he do it. She'd quietly looked in on him as he'd sat at his desk, fully clothed, and labored over his books. She'd been tempted to tiptoe in and place a warm, tingling kiss on the nape of his neck, but she'd refrained. Instead, she'd just peeped in on him from time to time, can of beer in one hand, pussy in the other. She'd been more than ready for him when he'd completed his assignments, but she had inspected his work prior to anything else. .
She'd given him a kiss for every correct answer he had in his algebra homework, and she'd massaged his thighs while she'd read his history assignment. She had sat on his lap and let him play with her tits while she read his book review aloud, and by then they'd both been quite ready for their first good fuck of many in his room. She had felt like an encore and of course so had he, but she'd wisely held back and gone to her own bed and played with herself just a bit before falling into a deep, smiling sleep. It had been a lovely evening, and she looked forward to an even lovelier one that night.
She would give him a nice warm bath. She would fill the tub with hot water and bubbles, and she would grope for and find his strong young prick while she washed him. She would dress like a bath-house attendant, with nothing on but a towel, and when he emerged from his steaming tub they'd fuck and suck there on the warm tile floor of the bathroom.
Or perhaps she'd play the pornographer's model again that night. He had certainly enjoyed that, and she had, too. She had other lingerie to wear that would equally arouse him. She might go out and purchase some new stuff, panties and bras and even corsets, things that her husband had never seen or touched, things especially for her newer, better, younger lover.
And then she thought again about what all this might do to him, and it made her frown and chew on her lip. As delightful and exciting and wondrous as it was, there was a definite sin in incest. Not only The Holy Bible said so. All the books did, including the law books. Of course she could say it was all her fault if they got caught and take the consequences herself. She'd be glad to go to jail for her son, her lover, but what would that do to him? There was no real way of telling that, of course. The thing to do was very simple-just don't get caught. But still they could get caught. Jail for her, psychological trauma for him. Was it worth the risk? She went and got a beer from the refrigerator, and over the second of those, she decided that, yes, it was. The decision made, she went on to make plans for their evening together.
She thought about it all the time she was doing her housework. She thought about her son, and how she could please him-and herself. She thought about it some more while she was out doing her shopping, and after she'd purchased her groceries and put them in the car she window shopped for something that might titillate her son, and herself. She looked and looked and at last she splurged and spent over fifty dollars on a snowy white negligee of the type that brides traditionally lose their virginity in. She had long ago lost her virginity, speaking strictly technically, but the freshness and youth of her new lover made her feel even more virginal than she had at eighteen as she walked out of the store with the beribboned box under her arm.
Driving home, perspiring with excitement, she thought of how she'd do it. Be motherly but not loverly when he got home from school. Have him do his homework early, while she prepared a truly gourmet dinner. Serve it in her bedroom, while he was dressed in his best, newly ironed pajamas, and she wafted about the room in her new negligee. They'd both be so excited they could barely eat, but the food would be so good they'd gobble it up, while they gobbled each other up with their eyes. No more cookies for her man when he got home that day. She'd thaw some thick steaks, garnish them with fresh mushrooms, precede it with a crabmeat cocktail and follow it with some heavy fucking for dessert. She'd serve a Caesar salad before the steaks and baked potatoes with sour cream and chives and melted cheese with them, asparagus on the side smothered in Hollandaise sauce, and some heavy necking between the courses.
Their knees would fuck under the table and their eyes would fuck across it as he poured Chateau Lafitte Rothschild claret into their crystal wedding goblets, the ones she'd received as a gift when she'd married his father, but had rarely used.
She'd polish up her best silver for this special meal and serve it on a linen-covered card table in their future bedroom, while he'd be polishing up his prick with his hand under the table and devouring her with his eyes as they ate, gravy dripping off their chins, sex juices dripping off their organs. Then they'd fuck. God, they'd fuck and fuck and fuck. No school for him tomorrow, and no housework for her. A day away from their routines wouldn't hurt either of them, and both simply had to take the edge off their sexual appetites. She stopped on the way home and bought him a new pair of pajamas of light blue linen. They were very soft and smooth.
They were very expensive, too, but she didn't give a damn about how to pay for them. That would take care of itself once she'd become the hard-working, hard-loving wife of her son.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Betty felt dizzy with desire that afternoon as she went about the business of getting ready for their very special evening meal. A glass or two of wine while she worked seemed to help. It wasn't the imported French vintage wine which she drank while she worked. It was just ordinary table wine, the same they'd be drinking that night, the only kind she'd be able to afford in the future with Glen. He had years to go in school.
She'd have to support both of them, perhaps move to an apartment, get a job of course, sweat and slave, keep their illicit household and their hungry bodies together until he could support them as Paul had. She had no illusions about Paul ever returning. She knew very well by then that once the parent had tasted sex with the child, there was no returning to any other kind of sexual satisfaction. Even more realistically, she knew that there was and never would be satisfaction in having sex with Glen. Immediately after each time they had sex, she was hungry for more of it. So was he. For the rest of their lives together they'd either be having sex or hungering for it, and was there any better way to go through life? In the midst of preparing her own nuptial meal in the familiar kitchen that her husband had bought for her, she threw back her head and laughed at her future, and in the midst of her laughter her son appeared in the doorway and she felt almost ill with desire for the innocently smiling, totally forbidden boy.
"What are you doing home so early?" she asked, amazed at the calm in her voice. "Did you cut school?"
"Yep," he said. "I got to thinking about you so much it was either cut school or jack off right in class, so here I am. Mom, let's fuck," he said, and advanced on her with a look in his young eyes that was as old as the earth itself, and far more exciting.
"There will be no cutting school in the future, Glen," she said, and met his open mouth with hers.
He began at once to open her blouse. His fingers were quick, no longer clumsy with her buttons. She didn't have to help him a bit with them, and so her hands were free to caress his back and to draw down the zipper of his pants and reach within.
His cock was good and hard. Betty knew in advance it would be, but that didn't stop the lovely thrill that went through her when her hand closed around his hard cock. The open-mouthed, tongue-twirling kiss went on and on. It continued while Glen's trousers were dropped to the floor and while he helped Betty out of her blouse. She pushed his pants down over his hips, letting his boycock spring forth, and still their languidly sensual kiss continued. He reached around her and unhooked her bra straps, and by leaning back just a little she was able to pull her empty brassiere out from between them. Only the proximity of her bare tits was enough to draw his lips away from her mouth.
He crouched lower and began sucking on their waiting nipples. She lifted their milky weight up to his handsome young face, smiling down at his kisses, noting with delight that her hard nipples were the exact color of his pursed lips. While he was lustily kissing her titties he was also running his hand back and forth through her crotch. She took a wider stance for this. She was amazed at how she felt. All day long she'd anticipated being with him, and now that it was finally happening, it was far, far better than she'd thought it would be in her vivid imaginings.
"Jesus Christ, I sure do love your tits, Mom," he babbled, and ran his fingers over them, making her almost faint with a sudden surge of desire.
"And they love your hands," she said, and pushed them harder into his possession, wincing a bit but loving the sharp sensations from his strong little fingers.
"Let's fuck," he said, mauling her tits.
"We'll get around to that."
"And suck."
"That, too. We have plenty of time now, Glen. There was no need to cut school."
"I didn't cut it," he said with an impishly arrogant grin. "I quit it."
"What?" The sensations-or at least most of them-were suddenly gone. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him away, saying, "What was that, young man?"
"I said I quit school. I'm going to get a job so you don't have to go to work now that Dad's gone."
Blind fury raged in her, and he saw it in her face. That scared him more than the sudden shaking she gave him. Tits bouncing heavily, she shook him very hard and snapped, "Get that crazy idea out of your head! You're going to finish school, young man!
"I'm not! I'm not!" he replied, teeth chattering with the shaking and with his fear, but determined to carry out his plan of action. "I'm going to get a job! I'm going to support us! Mom, listen to me!"
"Like hell you are!" she said, and slapped him across the face.
She hadn't struck him in years. His hand flew to his cheek and his face turned a bright red. Tears started, and then his face clouded with anger and he swung his hand up wildly and slapped his mother's face.
It shocked him more than it did her. He was immediately apologizing while she calmly fluffed up her hair, listening coolly while he ranted and rambled about his plans to take over as the bread-winning head of the household. He was still talking when she walked around him and headed toward her bedroom. "I can get a good job, Mom! Maybe two! I can support us; I know I can. I don't want you going to work. Mom, listen to me!"
She went to the dresser top where the box containing her bridal negligee was. She reached past this and picked up the hairbrush, turned and faced him with it in her hand, bare-breasted, beautiful, stony-faced and smoldering with anger.
His grin was a little wary as he looked from her face to her bare tits to the hairbrush and back again. "What are you going to do with that?"
"Nothing, if you promise me you'll be back in school tomorrow."
"Only thing I want to be in is you," he said, and bent and kissed each of her nipples. They'd gone soft now, and not quite so exciting to kiss. Still their texture was lovely, and he was confident that a few more of his warm kisses would bring them back to life and bring her around to his way of thinking about their future together.
"Stop that, Glen," she said, her voice as cool as a January dawn. "Stop that and get ready for your paddling."
"Me? You gotta be kidding," he said, and dropped to his knees and began kissing her pussy through the tight fabric of her jeans. He blew his hot breath through the cloth, knowing she'd respond at any moment. He hugged her hips and fondled her thighs, confident that his love for her would overcome all. She pushed him away and went to the bed. She sat down on its edge, stiff-backed, tits proudly erect, hairbrush slapping impatiently at her knee. "Come over here and lay across my lap, Glen."
"No," he said, laughing nervously. "I won't do it. I'm too big to get spanked. I'm big enough to fuck you now," he said, and came to stand before her, naked prick pointing at her, inviting her, tempting her.
She pointed at her soft, clamped thighs and said, "Lie down."
"No, darn it! I'm sorry I slapped you, but I'm not sorry I'm quitting school."
"You are going back to school tomorrow, and that is absolutely final. I forgive you for slapping me, but you're going to get this spanking. You need it."
"Like heck," he said, scowling now, and nervously moving his hands over his bare buttocks. "I won't fuck you any more if you keep this up, Mom."
She nodded her head solemnly. "That's right. No more obedience, no more fucking. Lie down."
"If ... if you spank me, I'll tell what we've been doing!"
"Your discipline is more important than my going to jail. Lie down, Glen."
"OH, SHIT!" he yelled, and threw himself down across her lap. Her thighs were terrifically soft and smooth, but he ignored their caressing touch against his bare belly. Her hand on his bottom was very stimulating, but he didn't react to it. He remained completely stoic while she peeled off his white T-shirt, leaving him completely naked, and he planned to maintain his stoicism throughout the humiliating ordeal of getting spanked like a child. A few spanks with the hairbrush, some more talk, his agreement to return to school on a part time basis, and then they'd fuck the night away just as he'd planned.
WHACK! The first blow was hard, more so than he'd expected, but he hardly flinched at all.
WHACK!
"Hey, take it easy, Mom." Already his asscheeks tingled and burned and felt like they were swelling up.
He was screaming and bawling, completely out of control, writhing in agony on her lap and begging her to stop. His ass felt as big as a giant watermelon and about to burst like a ripe one. It burned with the searing pain of her powerful chastisement. Twist and squirm as he might against those lovely cushions of her thighs, he couldn't escape the rain of blows that he knew very well he deserved.
At last she tossed the brush aside and shoved him off her lap onto the floor. Cringing and weeping, clinging to her knees and looking up through his tears at her lovely, shimmering face, he blubbered, "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll go to school, college, anything you say. I'll never hit you again. I'll always be good, always!"
Stone-faced, she pushed him away and rose from the bed. There was hope in his eyes as he looked up past her luscious big tits to her face now, for her fingers were working at the waistband of her jeans. "You know you deserved that spanking," she said.
"I know it! I'm sorry, Mom. I'll always be good from now on. I'll do anything you want me to."
She peeled down her jeans, and the hope in his heart blazed brightly. Now she was wearing nothing but some pretty pink panties. As she snugged them up about her very full and very beautiful hips, Glen would have been more than content to simply follow her around like a puppy all evening, looking at the erotic loveliness of her constantly jiggling big tits and her well-packed pink nylon panties.
But she straightened up, towering over him like a gigantic sex goddess, and she was running her thumb back and forth inside the tight waistband of her panties as she said, "I want you to kiss my cunt, Glen."
"Oh, Mom!" he exclaimed, and threw himself at her, face first.
She pushed him away. "I want you to kiss it really good, Glen."
"Really really good! All night long! Just the way you like it best! Your fanny, too! Mom, I love you, Hove you!!!"
"You're going to have to prove that," she said, and turned her back to pull her panties down.
He waited, trembling and licking his lips, hands on his knees and burning buttocks on his heels. Her ass had never looked more beautiful. It was creamy white, with just a hint of pink showing everywhere in it. The crack in it was absolutely intriguing, separating the two perfect hemispheres she was presenting to his view. It was beautiful, it was smooth, and it was big.
She bent at the waist and parted the lovely globes, and now for the first time he saw there was a light fringe of curly blonde hairs that reached up from her cunt bush to a few inches above her asshole. The little pink mouth inside those hairs was waiting for him, as unsmiling as her face had been, but nonetheless attractive.
"Don't touch me yet with anything but your tongue," she said. "Begin."
At .first it was clumsy kissing her there without being able to hug her, but he soon became used to that. Without being able to use his hands, he concentrated more on his kisses, his face buried deep between the lovely big globes she was holding open for him, his tongue tickling deftly all around and within the sweet puckered mouth of her behind. The only signs of response she made to his most arduous kisses, however, was a slight swaying of her body, and so he put even more passion in his mouthings.
The mirror over her dresser helped him. From the farthest corner of his eye he was able to see her reflection in it, and his.
He was kneeling behind her, of course, hands locked behind his back, prick up hard, face almost completely obscured in the sweeping curvature of her ass. She was bent over at the waist, hands resting comfortably on her knees, looking down at the floor.
Her tits looked simply huge. They were hanging straight down, with their warm liquid weight making them very bulbous and beautiful. Her hair was hanging down too, but he could see her face. That was equally as beautiful as her tits, for there was a slight smile on it now, and the ends of her tits were definitely getting hard. He was doing some good with her, regaining some of the points he'd lost, and without her permission he placed his hands on her smooth, smooth hips to aid him in delivering even more pleasure to this most wonderful woman in the world.
He thought he heard her purr and he thought he felt her cum, but he couldn't be sure. All that mattered was that she wasn't stopping him. Her asshole was a pure delight to kiss and lick, but he was developing a great longing to kiss her pussy, and thus he wasn't too disappointed when at last she straightened up and turned around.
Yes, there was definitely a smile on her lips. It was small but it was there, indicating that he had indeed pleased her and that she'd already forgiven him for touching her without her permission. At any minute now she was going to let him kiss her cunt.
He waited breathlessly for that command while she stood artfully before him, one hand idly fondling her tits, and other behind her where he couldn't see it, roving over her lovely bottom.
"Lie down on your back, Glen," she said.
"Sure, Mom. Anything you say."
He threw himself onto his back on the carpet, wincing a little. "Is your fanny still sore?" she asked.
"A little," he said. In fact it was flaming hot, and quite sore from the touch of the rough carpet. The sight of her standing ten feet tall over him erased any real discomfort from his pain.
She stepped over him to stand astraddle his naked body. His prick strained up at her, but it was only his eyes that could touch her cunt, all wet and pink and golden, and soon to be his again. She parted its puffed lips with one hand and lightly caressed her gleaming slick slit with the fingers of the other while he waited, and waited. He couldn't see anything but her cunt as she moved forward. Soon it was directly above his rapt face, and then it began to descend on him. It grew lovelier with every increasing inch of its proximity, and when it was a foot away from his extended tongue he lost control of himself, reached up and helped her to sit down on his face.
He was being smothered then by the most delicious cunt in the world. It was all darkness and warmth, and he was joyously buried in it. Her scent was almost overwhelming, with far more substance to it than any bottled perfume could ever hope to have. Her taste was succulent, inspiring him to put his tongue to the very best use. Her pliable softness was such that his face was completely covered by her sex flesh. Her textures, the little soft shapes of her organs were so very delightful that Glen was quite content to smother to death, just as long as he could remain where he was for a little longer.
But the lovely soft weight was lifted from his face, and cool air rushed in, bringing with it a great lungful of her marvelous scent. The big loaves of her buttocks settled most comfortable on his chest and her open cunt was still there within easy range of his hungry tongue.
She took his face in her hands, and looking up through the gap between her lovely big tits, he saw she was smiling warmly at him, and his heart soared high.
"That was nice, honey," she said. "That was just awful nice."
"Did you cum, Mom?"
She nodded smugly, and his grin broadened.
"I guess you've forgiven me then, huh?"
In answer she slid her wet cunt down his body, over his chest and belly, toward his throbbing prick. She encircled his head with her arms and gave him a kiss that he would never forget, totally impassioned, communicating things they didn't have to say in words, thoroughly tasting the sex they'd already had together and promising more, much more. And while her mouth was kissing his, her cunt was kissing his prick. He had no idea how she did it or even if he was completely inside her, but her big hips writhed sensuously on his, her legs intertwined with his, and his prick felt the wetness and warmth of her squirming cunt. He began to shoot. Milky cum poured and flowed out of him as she ground her cunt against him, ground her mouth against him, ground his sore ass against the carpet. There was little of the intensity that he'd felt in orgasm with her before, but the joys were certainly there. They just flowed and flowed, along with his prick, quite endlessly, miraculously. They flowed from him into her. He could very definitely feel her cumming with him as they remained locked tightly in the mute embrace, their straining bodies speaking eloquently.
At last it was she who drew back from the kiss. "Whew ww w! That was something special."
"I want to eat you some more. I want to fuck you some more."
She pinched his cheek. "Greedy little pig." She smiled and kissed him very hotly, and said, "Yes, I want you to fuck me. Stay hard. Stay hard for me, Glen."
"Always, Mom," he said, and watched as she rose up on his body.
His prick was inside her. Her cunt had captured it very effectively without any help from her hands while they'd been kissing. He saw its impalement quite clearly as she sat up, straddling his loins, big tits swinging, a look of breathless concentration on her face.
"Got to have this. Got to," she said, and she braced herself on his chest with both hands and started moving her body, all of it.
She was soon quivering like jelly everywhere, not just in her tits, but everywhere. Her back was arched forward to rasp her clit against his stationary cock, forming a delightful fat curve to her shaking belly as she bounced up and down on his hot rod. The pads of fat around her thighs and hips were shaking madly with her fucking and even her upper arms were all aquiver as she fucked him hard and good. She was biting her lip and knitting her brow in concentration on the joys they were feeling together, and it all combined to prime his stiff prick for another orgasm, this one in perfect conjunction with the big, big thing abuilding in her.
"Go, Mom! Go!" he said, grabbing her hips to help her along.
"Can't stop!" she gasped. "God, I just can't stop cumming!"
"More! Harder!" he commanded, grabbing her tits in both hands, squeezing her hard there and feeling their bouncing heaviness.
"Look at me!" she panted. "Remember this!"
"I am! I will!" he said, bucking up under her now, wonderfully amazed at seeing all this beautiful woman flesh in motion at the same time.
"So big! So big!" she groaned, gyrating her hips in circular movements over him now, gushing out her orgasmic wetness all over his balls.
"Bigger! BIGGER!" he shouted, squeezing and fucking harder, caught up with the madness of her pleasures.
She started snapping her hips forward and back, recapturing their former motion together. She was yelling, "OH! OH! NNNGGG!" He was snarling and crying out too, but he hardly knew what words he was saying, as orgasm after orgasm robbed him of much of his comprehension.
But he did hear himself shout, right at the height of another big orgasm, "Eat it! Lemme eat it again!"
"God, YES!" she shouted. "SIXTY-NINE! Right now, Glen. RIGHT NOW!"
Her body was a blur of pale softness as she whipped her hips off his flowing prick and squirmed about on the floor to present them to his reaching face. At the same time he was turning about to give his prick to her mouth. They met and locked, sucking each other immediately, even as their arms and legs were getting positioned for the classic pleasures of mutual oral fucking. Together they rolled about on the floor sucking and kissing with their mouths, fucking with their hips, in a delirium of the maddest pleasure and joy imaginable. Neither knew who was on top or who was on the bottom, and their positions were changing constantly. Their faces were all over each other's crotches, covered with sex juices, avidly seeking more. When her body suddenly went rigid, Glen went right on with his mad kissing, and it was only the little scream that finally stopped him.
"EEK! Daddy, what are they doing?"
"My God! They're having sex together!" said a masculine voice, and Glen looked up from between his mother's legs to see his father standing in the bedroom doorway beside his half-sister, Debbie.
CHAPTER NINE
Paul and Debbie made their unexpected appearance on a Friday. What followed was a somber and-with one exception-a quiet weekend at the McCall residence. The exception came when Paul McCall took his son into the bathroom and thrashed him soundly with his belt. Brave little Glen made very few outcries, but each slap of Paul's thick leather belt made Betty's heart cry out in anguish. That was the worst part of it all, hearing those terrible sounds coming from the bathroom, knowing it was all her fault Glen was being punished so severely, and being unable to do anything about it. She had been unable to defend herself, let alone young Glen.
What defense could she have when she'd been caught red-handed in the act of incest with her fifteen-year-old son? Paul had taken her into their bedroom and spoken to her in very serious tones.
He was shocked, appalled at what she'd done. He spoke at great lengths about her perverting his son, and all she could do was nod her head with downcast eyes and say it was all her fault. He told her he could have her arrested, could divorce her, leave her without a penny, drive her out of town in disgrace, and she said she knew, and that she was sorry.
"Sorry?" he'd said. "What good does sorry do? That boy's liable to be ruined for life, and you say you're sorry. I ought to break your neck, but that wouldn't do any good. You're too old for learning through corporal punishment. Glen isn't."
In the ensuing conversation she'd gotten down on her knees, entreating him to spare her son the ordeal of a whipping at his hands, all to no avail. She threw herself on his mercy, and he showed her absolutely none of that. And so in tears, with Debbie smugly ensconced in a chair in the living room, Betty had heard those terrible sounds of her son being forced to atone for her sins. She sincerely thought for a while that Paul was going to beat Glen to death or at least to a hospital, and she was just about to pound on the door and plead again for mercy when the beating was over with. Even Debbie was looking warily at the bathroom door when it at last opened. Glen came out walking stiffly, grim-faced, with tear-streaked cheeks-but as he passed his mother he gave her a covert wink of his eye.
That made Betty feel considerably better, but she knew she was still in big trouble. From then on, she knew, Paul would be able to hold her sins over her head like a club. She'd have to put up with anything he did in the future, and if the past was any indication, she'd be putting up with a lot. Binges, infidelities, sudden disappearances, these would soon become commonplace in the McCall household. Betty would have to bear all of these indignities and more. She'd have to do so without even the comfort she'd found in the arms of her son. And she'd have to do it while she blandly put up with Paul's affair with his daughter Debbie.
Although Paul had a decent enough alibi for their sudden disappearance, there was no doubt in Betty's mind that they'd been shacked up in some cheap motel during their absence. "We went on a trip to look for Debbie's mother. She called here, in trouble, and we left you a note on the television and just took off. We never did find her, but look, here's the note we left. It fell down behind the set."
Betty knew very well they were lying. She could recognize the illicit look of fully requited lust that passed between them with almost open arrogance. She knew her husband, and she saw the signs of the licentious little tramp in his daughter, and she knew very well what had happened. While she and Glen were out, Paul had plied his daughter and himself with a few beers. Affectionate pats had turned into caresses and they'd started to get it on right there in the house. Fearing Betty's return, they'd slipped out for a quickie in the woods, and one fuck had led to another until they'd spent three whole days doing exactly what she and Glen had been doing.
She knew about them-but they had the proof of her incestuous affair with her son. Now they had her in their power, and they weren't shy about exerting that power over the weekend.
Debbie had helped a little around the house when she'd first arrived there after a series of aimless wanderings around the country. Now the seventeen-year-old girl didn't lift a finger to aid in the running of the house. Betty even had to do her laundry. There wasn't much of it, considering they were supposedly on a three-day trip. There were, however, several pieces of new and very fragile lingerie of the type Paul used to buy for Betty when they were first married.
When Betty held the wispy garments to her nose, they fairly reeked of sex, confirming her suspicions to the letter. Betty stoically washed for them and cooked for them and cleaned up after them.
Glen helped her when he could, but at these times his father usually appeared and ordered him away from his mother's side. Paul kept a sanctimonious eye on them or sat comfortably on the couch with his daughter, holding hands with her, watching the television, calling for Betty to bring them another pair of cold beers. It was all too humiliating for words, and then Glen exceeded his cruelty by replacing Betty with Debbie in their marital bed.
"I won't be wanting to sleep with you again, Betty, not for a long long time. And I'm a little afraid to have Debbie alone in a bed at night here with you and Glen wandering around. So you're changing places with Debbie at night. You'll be sleeping on the couch and Debbie will be sleeping in our bed. I'll pitch my sleeping bag across the doorway of our room just in case you or your sex maniac son get any wild ideas and try to sneak in and seduce my little girl during the night."
Paul had made his announcement with a straight face just before bed time on Friday. Betty had accepted it meekly, Glen had scowled and looked away, and snippy little Debbie had smirked and rolled her big brown eyes up at the ceiling.
Not that she was so little. She was a tall, willowy young woman. True, she had slim hips and her breasts were no larger than apples, but her long, slender waist made it clearly known that she was a fully developed woman, and not the little girl that Paul made her out to be. She had an impertinently upturned nose and her lips were rather thin, but her face was pretty enough for a girl her age. She had that long, straight brown hair of the hippy that Betty detested and she wore hippy-type clothes which detracted from her appearance, but Betty grudgingly admitted she was quite attractive. She was attractive enough to seduce her own father, the little tramp, and to make Betty's son cast calf's eyes at her when she walked by in her tight frayed denim cut-offs.
Betty couldn't blame Glen. He was young and didn't know how to disguise his yearning looks at females as yet. It didn't occur to the innocent boy that it was his father's paramour, not just his daughter, that he was ogling. And it didn't bother Glen that those were incestuous thoughts running through his head each time he looked at Debbie that way, for Betty had taught him there was nothing wrong with a little incest. Betty couldn't blame Glen for his lustful looks at Debbie, but she could blame Debbie.
The girl deliberately walked in an enticing manner all the time. She was constantly practicing an alluring lilt to her round little bottom and an undulating roll to her hips as she walked around the house with her little pointy titties barely covered by a skimpy little T-shirt without any sleeves. On her hitch-hiking tours of the country she'd acquired a very even tan on her long, slender legs, but unlike other hippie girls, she kept her legs closely shaven. They were as smooth as Betty's, and considerably darker and firmer.
She was, Betty admitted, a very attractive girl, and she knew it and she flaunted it. It was simply disgusting to see her walking around with a can of beer in her hand, teasing poor Glen. Or sitting on the sofa in front of the television, sipping beer, feet propped up on the coffee table, idly opening and closing her legs. Glen would see her and his poor little starving pecker would get hard as could be in his pants, and then Debbie would go blithely off to bed with her father. Disgusting, but there was nothing Betty could do about it at the moment.
If she had any doubts about what they were doing in bed, these were dispelled just an hour after they had closed the door behind them. Betty waited on the couch for just as long as she could and then crept into the hall. She heard giggles, moans, gasps, muffled outcries of perverted pleasures being shared in her bed, and that was simply too much to bear. This happened on both Friday and Saturday night, and each time Betty returned to her miserably lonely couch and tossed and turned the night away. On Sunday night when it happened again she felt it was safe enough to slip into Glen's room for a frantic but sadly silent half-hour of very comforting sex with him. It was only then, lying in his arms after some very calming sucking and fucking, that she came up with a plan that might salvage the remnants of her household and her life. When she whispered her plan into the ear of her son, she could see him smile his agreement to it even in the darkness of his bedroom. And his smile turned her on, especially under their circumstances, what with his father and half-sister openly shacking up in the same house, fucking and sucking and then sanctimoniously lording it over them for their indiscretion.
Their plan set, they both relaxed somewhat, and with that came a degree of lust, plus the added spice of danger, and the danger was the possibility of being caught together for the second time. Betty reached for her son's rising boy prick, her fingers slithering up his smooth, hairless thighs.
Glen gasped with the excitement of her touch as her cool fingers found and encircled his hot young cock, dangling it and drawing it out to an even greater length. Sensations of ecstasy flowed through him from the point where her fondling fingers caressed his sensitive cock flesh. It felt so good, he wanted to cry out his pleasure, but the knowledge of his father and half-sister lying in the next room kept him silent. He didn't want another thrashing like the previous one. And he still didn't entirely understand the reasoning behind that beating. Why had his father beat him for having fun with his mother? Was something that was mutually pleasurable to both of them punishable?
Betty was, meanwhile, losing herself in this erotic moment, pulling and jacking this delicious young boy cock, fondling and rubbing the purple-red pulsing crown of her son's young glory. As he came to full erection, Betty slid up her son's thighs, bringing her empty hungering mouth closer to its natural target. Lewdly she licked his inner thigh, dragging her wet caressing tongue across the sensitive hump under his nearly hairless scrotum. Her tongue gently washed his sac, rolling his maturing testicles in their fleshy bag, and his little cock fairly cried out its need to be sucked.
Drawing little circles on his hairless groin, Betty's tongue bumped and touched her son's throbbing young cock but didn't directly attack it. And then, when he couldn't stifle his moans any more, she took his tumescent cockhead between her wet sucking lips. Gently she rotated her head, making small circles with his prick, causing him to clutch her head in exquisite agony.
When he was at the peak of want, she suddenly slurped up the whole length of his hard-on, drawing it fully into her hot mouth and sucking it furiously. Her tongue lashed the length of his throbbing bone as her lips sucked and pulled on the mobile skin of his cock shaft. Sucking noises and heavy breathing and the slide of skin on sheets were the only sound in the bedroom.
Betty thrilled to her power over this hard young boy cock, her ability to make this little soldier stand at attention then beg for attention. Her own orgasm was building under the powerful stimulus of sucking an under-aged boy's cock, her own flesh and blood's cock! She reached under his little balls and tickled his scrotum and asshole with her long-nailed fingers as she sucked and pulled at his ready-to-burst cock. Her cuntlips writhed in their own need and her other hand found its way to the portals of lust, and she began furiously fingering herself as she sucked off her son.
Throb! His cock jumped in her mouth, the sperm rising from his delicate young balls. It was coming! He was going to shoot his sticky load in her greedy mouth. Betty eagerly tongued and sucked his throbbing hard-on, wanting with all her soul to drink the boy cum from his balls. Her own orgasm tore through her just at the moment his cock burst, spattering the inside of her mouth with his precious jism, spilling over her savoring tongue, lubricating her wet red lips as they sucked up and down the length of his spurting cock.
Lewdly she drank every drop of his milky jism, reveling in the taste and glorying in her own orgasm.
CHAPTER TEN
Monday morning dawned hot and muggy, and the radio weatherman predicted the onset of a heat wave. At the breakfast table Paul delivered another of his sanctimonious lectures of the blessings of atoning for one's past sins, the joys of living the good life, and the dangers of straying so much as a millimeter from the straight and narrow path of chastity. He wound it up by saying that the next time he caught Betty and Glen so much as touching each other he'd kill them both on the spot. He told Debbie to keep an eye on them, and he gave her a big smooch on the mouth and went off to work.
As soon as he was gone, Glen got up to help his mother with the breakfast dishes. Debbie remained at the table, dawdling over her fourth cup of coffee and a cigarette, saying, "Remember what Daddio said. No fooling around in the kitchen, you two."
"He was just trying to help, Debbie," said Betty. "I'm a little overworked with an extra person in the house, and all this has been very ... upsetting to me."
Debbie turned her head and sneered at them, looking directly at Glen's loins and then Betty's. She said, "Go ahead and do whatever you want, but if I see you touching each other, I'm supposed to tell Daddy."
"You'd better go on to school, son," said Betty, aching to even touch his hand.
"I feel like staying homer. I've got a headache," he said, and Betty felt just a little better, for this was a part of the plan she'd made. It was a safety valve in case she'd been mistaken in her evaluation of young Debbie.
"Go on to school, Glen," she said. "You've had headaches before in the morning and they've always gone away. Here. I'll put two aspirins in your lunch bag. Bye-Bye, honey," she said, and couldn't even kiss his cheek in parting.
Betty worked like a slave all that hot morning and into the early afternoon. She really had neglected her heavier chores during the past week of turmoil and now she pitched in and went at them with no letup except for a fifteen minute lunch break. Debbie sat on the couch during almost all of this time, sipping cold beer, enjoying the game shows on television and the breeze from the electric fan, smoking cigarettes and occasionally asking Betty to bring her another cold beer. She was wearing her usual attire, cut-off jeans that were especially frayed in the seat, and a faded and threadbare green tank top. She hadn't a bra on under the tank top, Betty was sure of that. Despite the fan breeze her top was damp with sweat, and it clung to her dainty little titties so intimately that an encumbering bra would clearly have shown through it.
She was wearing panties, however, which was some slight testimonial to her personal hygiene. They were white. Betty could see them each time she passed through the living room, for Debbie rarely put her legs together and her cut-offs were very much cut off. The frayed edges of her jeans came right up to the bottoms of her pockets. The crotchband of her panties bulged almost luminously white in the deepest shadows of her olive thighs. Betty looked as she passed through the living room with her pails and mops, and Debbie smiled and went on with her lazy pursuits on that hot, muggy day.
Betty made them sandwiches and macaroni salad. She served Debbie's on a tray with another can of beer and she ate hers in the kitchen with a refreshing glass of buttermilk. Then she filled a big glass with red table wine and carried it with her as she went in to see if Debbie was finished with her lunch. She was not, of course, and Betty returned to the kitchen and poured half the wine down the sink, waited for fifteen minutes and took the half-filled glass with her again as she picked up Debbie's dirty dishes.
Her glass was full again when she went through the living room to the bathroom, and it was empty when she returned to the kitchen wearing one of Glen's white T-shirts and her favorite jeans, which she had just cut off so high that only a thin band of denim was between her legs, and the pads of woman flesh on her outer thighs were completely exposed to Debbie's idle gaze.
The girl on the couch smiled and said, "What're you trying to do? Pretend you're young like me?"
Betty paused, looked at the empty glass, smiled and said, "No, I'm just trying to cool off. Helluva hot day."
She returned to the kitchen, rinsed her mouth out with warm wine and spit it into the sink. She refilled her glass and went into the living room, cocked her hip and placed her fist on it as she stared at the screen and said, "What's that you're looking at, Debbie?"
"Some stupid soap opera. You cut off your jeans too short. By the time they get frayed, it'll be like you're wearing denim bikinis."
"So what's wrong with that," said Betty, turning her gaze to the girl, and smiling languidly. Then she looked down at herself and experimentally pulled one diminutive pantleg even higher on her thigh. "I'm not so old I can't wear a bikini. I'm not too old to attract a man."
Debbie looked at Betty's big tits, smiled and nodded. She said, "This beer is fillin' me up. Is that wine you're dinking? How 'bout getting me a glass while I go to the John."
Betty sighed heavily, handed her step-daughter the tumbler full of wine, and flopped down on the couch. "Drink mine. I'm taking a break."
Debbie tasted it and set it down. Heading for the bathroom, she was once again practicing her hip-rolling gait. Betty enjoyed the cool breeze from the fan as much as circumstances allowed while she waited. She hoped her timing would be right and that Glen would make his appearance at the right time. But before that, she hoped she could get the semi-drunk teenager in the properly compromising position. Betty heard Debbie's water flow and the toilet flush. She was looking straight at the girl's loins when she emerged from the bathroom. The two top buttons of her cut-offs were open, exposing a tiny triangle of white nylon panty just below her little navel.
The slim young brunette sat down on the other end of the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table just as Betty was doing. For several moments the two women sprawled there in silence, and then Debbie said, "How come you're looking to attract another man? You've got Daddy."
"Unh-unh. You've got Daddy, and I've got nothing but a lot of work. Hell, I can't even touch my own son any more, and I'm a woman who's got to have it once in a while."
"Have what?" said the girl, with an exaggerated look of mock innocence on her impishly pretty face.
"What you've been having with Daddy since you two split. What you had with him last night."
"Oh. You mean sleep? Don't you sleep well, Mom?"
"No. Not when I'm not getting my sex."
"Gee," said the girl. "Does not having sex make it hard for a woman to sleep? If that's so, maybe I'd better just go on being a virgin for a while."
Betty looked her straight in her mocking brown eyes and said, "Kid, I'm too tired even to laugh. I'm worn out from working, my nerves are on edge from getting cut off from my sex life while you and Paul are screwing each other silly, and I've got a damned good notion to leave right now."
Debbie reached out and touched her hand. "Don't go. I'll start helping you around here pretty soon. I've never been waited on before in my life like this, though, and I could dig a couple more days of it."
"The work I can stand; doing without sex I can't. And I've been doing without what I really dig for much too long."
Debbie's fingers tickled over the back of Betty's hand, and the girl grinned and said, "What's that, Betty?"
Betty licked her lips and looked down at her cunt, saying, "You're a virgin. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me. At least I can talk about it."
Betty took the wine from her and this time had a healthy drink of it. "I need to do more than talk about it," she said. "Christ, I've done without it for so damned long I forgot how good it was till I'd taught Glen how to do it. Now ... well, now I'm not about to do without it again.
"You mean him ... kissing you down there? Like he was doing when we came back?"
Betty nodded, still looking down at her loins. She placed her hand between her legs, closed her eyes and laid her head back on the couch and said, "God, I love to have my cunt sucked. That's the only way to really really cum. And I've taught Glen to go down on me really good. He just loves it and he'll do it for hours. He'd rather eat pussy than peanut butter sandwiches. Try him some time after I'm gone and when you're sure Paul won't catch you. What a tongue that little devil's got. What a mouth. What a taste for a woman's cunt. And not just for cunt. God, he'll lick you all over, your ears, your tits, your asshole, but best of all he'll lick your cunt. He'll suck your clit till you think you're never going to stop cumming, and he'll be hurt when you ask him to slip his little prick in you then."
"His prick didn't look so little to me," said Debbie, with a husky note in her voice."
Betty looked at her smiling. The conversation had succeeded in kindling the spark of lust in her eyes. Now Betty had to fan the flame to life, and she felt she could do that as surely as her hand was arousing herself. "Prick's are great," she said. "But they're pretty much all the same. It's tongues that are different. Any man can stick his prick in your cunt and pull it out, but it takes someone special, like Glen, with a special education like I gave him, to really drive a woman up the walls. I never could teach Paul, but I sure did teach Glen in a hurry."
Debbie leaned closer and took the glass from Betty. Her hand was covering Betty's now, and all the signs of sexual arousal were there in her smiling face as she sipped. If Betty could keep talking in this vein, Debbie would open her legs for Glen's mouth the moment he arrived home early from school. But now Debbie opened her pretty mouth and said, "And who taught you, Betty?"
"To eat pussy really well? Oh, I learned."
"Was it a woman or a man who first sucked you off really good?"
Betty was momentarily flustered. She hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn, but if talking about lesbianism helped arouse the girl, she was ready for it. "Matter of fact," she said, "it was a woman. My piano teacher. I was about your age with maybe the same sexual experience you've had. I'd been laid maybe half a dozen times. My piano teacher was in her thirties. "About your age now."
"Yes. A spinster. A damned good-looking woman. I used to love sitting so close beside her on the piano bench while she taught me how to play. We'd smile and look at each other and my heart would just pound. Then one day she told me I wasn't working the foot pedals right, and she got down on the floor and put her hands on my feet and showed me how to do it. I couldn't even think straight when she was down there. She touched my knee with her shoulder, and I thought I'd go straight up the wall. I was wearing one of those long skirts that were fashionable then, and she put her hand right up under it on my knee and asked me what was wrong, and ... and ... Jesus," said Betty, and squeezed Debbie's hand and polished off the wine.
"What happened then?" Debbie eagerly asked, moving closer on the couch. "Did she give you head right there at the piano bench?"
"Give me head? She gave me a lot more than that, honey. She gave me the first real orgasm I'd ever had in my life. Fucking's great, but sucking's greater."
"And did you give her head, too? And go sixty-nine with her? I just know you did, Betty."
Betty smiled and looked the girl over. She was so close her tanned knee was kissing Betty's very white one. Betty said, "Do you think I'm gay or something?"
"Shit, I know you're not gay. Paul says you're great in bed, and you wouldn't have made it with Glen if you were gay. But, uh, you have made it with women, haven't you. You gave head to that sexy piano teacher, didn't you. And there were other women, too. There had to be. I mean, you can't teach a man to give head until you've done it yourself. Isn't that true? A real lesbian told me that once. Isn't it true, Betty?" She was trying to talk me into going down on her, but I wouldn't do it."
She was talking fast, all excited now, and Betty had to keep her momentum going, even though Glen wasn't due for another half-hour. "Did this lesbian give you head, Debbie?"
"Oh, God," she said in reply, and her hand closed hard on Betty's and she shivered visibly.
"Was it good, Debbie?" Betty said, and stroked her trembling hand.
"So good it scared me."
"A lot better than Paul's prick, though he isn't bad with that."
A coolness came over Debbie's features and she said, "My father hasn't touched me in that way."
Betty was close to ruining it all. She had to salvage the heat she'd aroused in the girl at any cost. She said, "Of course he hasn't. You two are blood relations. So are Glen and me, but I'm not sorry we did what we did. Jesus, I haven't had my cunt sucked like that in years. I really taught that boy how to lick pussy, how to give head, as you say. Mm-m-m-m-m," she purred, and laid her head back on the couch again and let her hand carry on with her work.
She laid it on Debbie's knee and gave the smooth flesh a little squeeze. She ran it up and down the rounded slenderness a few inches, surprising herself at how good it felt. She'd never even touched a woman who was sexually aroused before, and she found she was enjoying the new experience, just as she was enjoying her role as a part-time lesbian.
"Of course you're right," she said, dreamily roving fingers of velvet over flesh that was damp with the fever of sex. "At times I like doing it almost as much as I like having it done. My piano teacher, Alicia, taught me how to kiss pussy. After the second time, I'd go in her bathroom and take off my panties as soon as I got there. By the time I sat down on the bench with her I was so hot I couldn't even hit the keys, let alone the pedals. She'd make me wait, sitting close, teasing me. Sometimes I'd be ready to cry and just beg her to do it, and then she'd always pat me on the knee and tell me I wasn't working the pedals right. She'd get down on the floor and I'd slide forward on the bench and pull my skirts up and then, oh God, then she'd give me the lesson I'd really come for. God that woman could eat pussy, but Glen's just about as good now."
"And you?" Debbie breathlessly asked, quite close beside Betty now, so close that Betty's hand was moving within inches of the frayed hem of her cut-offs, so aroused Betty could clearly scent her firm, pulsing pussy. "How did you do it to her the first-time?"
"She was clever about it. She did it to me maybe seven or eight times, like I told you, always getting me so hot at first I was ready to cum before she even put her head up under my skirt. And then one day she got me to that point and wouldn't go any farther," said Betty, amazed at how easily this unfulfilled fantasy about her old piano teacher was flowing out of her, and amazed at how much it was exciting her to tell someone about it. She touched the shaking flesh at the hem of Debbie's cut-offs and said, "I was so hot I was shaking all over. I kept kicking the pedals wrong, but she didn't go down on the floor. We'd never even said a word about it before, she'd just do it to me and go on with the lesson, but that day I finally said to her-almost crying, 'Please, Alicia!' She said, 'Please what, Betty?' I said, 'Please kiss me!' and she did, right on the mouth."
"Oh, shit," Debbie murmured, and clasped Betty's hand against her thigh.
"I almost did, my dear. All of a sudden I was just necking like crazy with this beautiful older woman, pressing her hands against my titties and feeling her beautiful little breasts. They were shaped like yours," she said, staring straight at the two plumpy sharp mounds on Debbie's heaving chest. She went on, saying, "I was really stacked at that age. Alicia like my tits almost as much as she did my pussy. When she got my dress and brassiere open and started sucking on 'em and kissing them, I thought I'd go crazy. Hell, I did go crazy. It was the first time in my life I ever had an orgasm just having my breasts kissed and my nipples sucked."
"You can do that?!?" said Debbie, and her slender brown hand twitched in the direction of where she was staring.
"I sure can," said Betty, and took Debbie's hand in hers and placed it against her breast.
The deepest sort of thrill coursed through her mature but not totally experienced body as her step-daughter's fingers closed deep in her breast, and the delectable young girl said, "Go on, Betty. Go on!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Betty chuckled and said, "Go on with what, Deb? Go on with my story or go on and cum? Your hand feels wonderful there," she continued, pressing it closer and pushing her hard big nipple into its hot little palm. "But I need a mouth on my tits to make me cum. Preferably a woman's mouth. God, your hand feels nice. Am I shocking you, dear? Women are just better at oral sex than men are. They're softer about it at first, and they don't give up when the really good things start to happen. A woman's mouth between my legs ... that's about the ultimate."
"Oh, God," Debbie moaned, and her fingers dug into Betty's big titty so deeply that the older woman felt faint for a moment. "Did you ever go sixty-nine with Alicia? I know you did. I had a dream I was doing that with a chick once. Tell me about it, Betty. Tell me what it's like. Please, Betty, please!"
The poor girl was beside herself with perverted desire. Betty felt a little guilty about leading her on so falsely, and so effectively. But she thought back to all the little petty cruelties Debbie had inflicted on her in the past few days and she reached out and tweaked a very hard little nipple that was showing so clearing through faded green cotton.
Debbie gasped and said, "Oh, Betty!"
Betty pinched her nipple harder, and Debbie's smooth young brow knit deeply and she bit her underlip as she looked down at it.
"Hurt you?" Betty asked, pinching hard, rolling the very hard ball between her fingers.
Debbie nodded, still watching, still trembling.
"Take off that damned shirt," said Betty, and released her.
Debbie's slender body sagged visibly. She sat there panting for a few moments and then whipped the skimpy tank top off her body. The girl had nice little tits. They were very white against her tan, but the nipples were darker than Betty's, and they were standing straight up.
Betty was more leisurely about removing her T-shirt. Debbie's eyes were almost closed, but she watched every inch of the emergence of Betty's big tits. Both women sat on the couch breathing deeply, bare-chested, Betty smiling and Debbie slack-jawed. At last Betty started to get up, and Debbie grabbed her hand and said, "What are you going to do?"
"Get us a couple of beers. What do you want me to do?"
Debbie's hand tightened on her. "Anything you want, Betty. I won't tell Daddy. No matter what, Paul won't ever know."
"I don't care about what he knows any more."
"Then let's do it. Daddy won't kiss me there. That lesbian I knew did it, but I've never done it. Please, Betty?"
"Don't whine, girl," said Betty, and jerked her to her and mashed her lips down on her stepdaughter's open mouth. The feeling of those firm young breasts pressed hotly against her much bigger, much softer ones was far more erotic than she'd imagined. Debbie's waist felt very tiny under Betty's strong encircling arm, and as sinuous as a snake. Her mouth was sweet. Betty could taste the excitement welling up in it as they kissed and mashed their tits together. She crept her fingers down inside the back of Debbie's opened cut-offs, grasped the waistband of her panties and pulled up hard, and as she did, Debbie squirmed and moaned and bit Betty's tongue.
Betty shoved her away. "You little bitch!"
Debbie threw herself at the buxom blonde. "I couldn't help it! Did I hurt you?"
"Here's something to chew on," said Betty, and shoved her down until there was a dark head bobbing at her tits, two slender hands trembling and pawing over them, and quaking lips placing feverish kisses on their turgid nipples.
"Oh, God," Debbie moaned, kissing madly, pressing her hot cheeks against them. "I didn't mean for this to happen. God, they're so big! I want to make you cum. Betty, please cum for me!"
That was a lie Betty had told about tit-kissing making her climax. But now, with her husband's daughter and mistress sucking so passionately on her nipples, the possibility was quite plausible. She laid back, clasping the sucking mouth to her tit, and resumed the fantasy about the teacher whom she had a crush on. "We'd sit naked at the piano, Alicia and I, playing beautiful tunes. That was after we'd had our wild, wild sex together. She taught me to eat pussy, and to love it. Sixty-nine," Betty said, and Debbie's mouth and fingers tightened on her tit, and the girl moaned ecstatically.
"We'd roll around on the floor together with all our clothes on but our panties, sucking each other's pussies and just going crazy. Your mouth is getting me awfully horny, Deb. God, I think I am going to cum. I've been so fucking horny in the past few days. Making love with Glen-just crazy. Stay right there on that nipple and suck harder, Deb. Oh, harder! My God! Oh, my God!"
Suddenly she really was cumming. It welled right up through her pussy and all over her body like clear water gushing out of a desert well. Debbie's eyes were very wide as she looked up at her, still sucking avidly on her tit, digging her fingers into the big soft flesh there. The girl was obviously fascinated by the sight of her stepmother in orgasm, and by the feeling of her voluptuous body in that wild state. She was sucking and snuffling like a greedy piglet even after the peak of the unexpected climax had passed and Betty's big body was beginning to relax again. Betty had to physically drag the girl's mouth from her tits, and then for a long, delightful minute they were locked in each other's arms on the couch, sucking heavily on each other's mouths. Both women were sharing the orgasmic tingles still rippling through Betty's big body as Debbie squirmed her lightly perspiring titties against Betty's kiss-wetted ones.
"I did it," Debbie said with a grin. "I didn't think I could."
"Yes, and you liked it."
"Not as much as you did, Ma. Think I could ever cum that way?"
Betty grinned back and got her fingers on a hard little nipple. "Sure, with a lot of practice." She slid her hand down inside the seat of Debbie's drooping pants. "But I know of a better way. Get us those beers first, and then show me that hot little cunt I'm going to kiss."
Their flesh stuck together as if reluctant to part as Debbie extricated herself from Betty's arms. Debbie let her open cut-offs slide down her shapely legs and stepped out of them as she went around the coffee table, casting a sultry look at Betty from over her shoulder. Her little bottom bobbing across the living room in the tight white bikini panties was just adorable. Betty wanted to eat her and eat her well, but she feared that old inhibitions might suddenly arise and alter her licentious mood. She waited nervously, thinking about all the sex she'd missed out on in her life because of her fears about being more open to Alicia's tremulous advances years before, and she wondered if she could overcome those fears now. Her questions were answered when Debbie came sauntering back through the kitchen doorway.
She was still practicing her provocative little walk, and now for the first time Betty truly appreciated it. Clad in nothing at all but a pair of panties, body all golden tanned except for her titties, she looked decidedly kissable everywhere.
She came and handed over a cold can to Betty, stood close before her with one hand on a cocked hip and drank. Betty leaned forward and pushed a kiss on the damp warm mound at the juncture of her loins before sampling her beer, gazing through heavy-lidded eyes at the nubile young nymph so patiently awaiting her mouth.
"Take those off, Debbie," she said. "Show me your cunt."
"Sure, Ma. Anything you say."
Her body again reminded Betty of a tawny snake's body as she undulated it from side to side in slithering the panties down her shapely legs. She tossed the little garment aside and straightened up with her hips thrust forward and the bones of her pelvis standing out clearly on her lean young body. Her loins were a triangle of white that led down to a thin fan of dark straight hair through which showed the thin pink line of her pussy. Betty made her murmur and lean closer still by tickling her fingers up her inner thigh. Debbie's slit was creamy wet when Betty gently touched its thin, puffy lips, for the girl's heat was such that her love juices were overflowing from her hole.
"Oh, Betty!" she said, her body twitching as Betty's finger located the tip of her clit.
"That's where I'm going to kiss you best," said Betty, just barely moving her finger on it. "And if you jump like that from my finger, what'll you do with my tongue there?"
Debbie shivered and closed her eyes. She pushed her hips toward Betty's hand and said, "Where, Mama? Where?"
"Right here. On the floor in front of the fan. Lie down and get set to feel good."
Her slim body was all easy grace as she settled herself down on the floor. Betty got to her feet and came closer, so as not to miss a single movement of the slender beauty waiting for her kisses. Debbie lay on her back with her arms extended, her knees up, her feet flat on the carpet and widely separated. Betty could almost see the heat waves rising from her little cunt as she opened her cut-offs and pushed them down her legs, tits swaying heavily, nipples still hard. As naked as her stepdaughter, she got on her knees between the two tanned feet, and Debbie smiled sweetly and held out her arms to her.
"Hurry, Mama. Make me feel good."
"There won't be any hurrying about this," Betty promised, and licked her lips and bent closer to the sweet young cunt.
Betty pushed Debbie's thighs more widely apart and began on her. Her initial actions were like those of a surgeon preparing a patient for an operation. That is, she washed all around the focus of her attention with her lips and her tongue, moving closer to Debbie's cunt all the time. But her administrations were far more tender and loving than the surgeon's prep. The flesh she was kissing was amazingly firm and taut, yet wondrously soft. She smelled sweet and clean and musky and very sexy as Betty bent over her opened crotch with her lovely blonde head between her legs and her big white ass high in the air. Already Debbie was writhing and murmuring plaintively as she lay on the floor, and Betty hadn't even kissed her little twat yet. A trickle of sex juice tickled down Betty's thigh as she ran her tonguetip down through the creamy wet lips, tasting hot cunt for the first time in her life.
"Oh, God, yes!" Debbie exclaimed, and closed her fingers in the blonde hair between her legs.
Betty parted the luscious young lips with her thumbs and dug deeper with her tongue, for the flavor of cunt far exceeded anything she'd anticipated. She'd tasted it on Glen's and others' lips before but it had never been like this, never so fresh and warm and delectable.
"Ah, it's so good. Oh, you're so good to me," said the girl, arching her hips off the floor to give Betty more of what she wanted.
Her lips were delicious. Betty nibbled at them with her lips and swept aside the tendrils of hair on them with her tongue. The deep hollows of her lean, spare loins were intriguing. Betty buried her face in them and Frenched the girl flesh there deeply. Her clit was hugely exciting, just a little pointed button of flesh that fit perfectly between Betty's lips. The slightest flick of her tongue on it while it was being sucked produced absolutely thrilling results.
"Oh, yes, right there! Suck it, Betty, suck it. That's what the lesbian did, but this is ten times better than that!" said Debbie, with her thin hips jerking up strongly to push her clit at Betty's mouth, with her fine young body thrashing about on the floor.
Betty grabbed her hips to hold her still. Now that she'd tasted it fully, she had to have more of this sweet cunt. Debbie's squirming buttocks were so petite that Betty could grasp them with her fingers and still use her thumbs to hold her slit open. This she did while she licked it from top to bottom and back again, burying her nose in the wet warm flesh, rubbing the cuntlips with her hot cheeks. Looking up through the sparse black hair, past her stepdaughter's convulsing belly, Betty saw her pink and white titties twitching and jerking and she could glimpse her pretty face, all contorted by the paroxysms that she was inspiring with her mouth. It was a beautiful little body, agleam with a light film of perspiration, doing the dance of sexy love. It was a kaleidoscope view of earthy delight, but it was the girlish face that fascinated Betty. Her eyes were tight shut and her brows were knit, her nostrils were widely flared and her tongue was compressed between her lips. Betty moved around, her mouth never leaving its place between Debbie's legs, to feel that little pink tongue in her aching cunt. She hoped the girl would like the taste of pussy as much as she did, but even if not she'd be able to cum far better than she had from the titty-sucking.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Despite the heat of the day, Glen ran all the way home from school. He was late, for at first they hadn't believed his excuse that he was suffering from a headache. He certainly didn't want to be late for an occasion like this. If things went right, he'd be rewarded with days and nights of endless pleasure with his mother. If things went as she'd planned, the very consummation of her plan would be reward enough in itself, for next to his mother Debbie was the sexiest woman he'd ever seen in his life. But if things went wrong, the thrashing he'd gotten from his father would be nothing at all in comparison to what he'd get that night.
His father's car wasn't in the driveway, and that at least was a good sign. He hurried on, desperately hoping it would all come off as his mother had planned. By now Debbie should be good and drunk on the beer Betty had been feeding her. Between the two of them, it should be fairly easy to get her clothes off, hold her down, and excite her so much she was out of her head.
In this condition, drunk and passionately aroused, she'd surely be made to confess that she'd been having a hot sex affair with her father and his. This, his mother had said, would cancel out the old man's threat of blackmail and enable them to go off together and build a new life, one that had plenty of sex in it. Just then, however, he couldn't think far beyond the part he'd play in arousing Debbie's passions to the point of a rambling confession. He got to the front steps panting, eased open the door, and let his jaw drop at what he saw on the floor before him.
His mother was way ahead of him. Beer cans and a wine glass were scattered about the room, and she had Debbie wildly aroused already. They were in exactly the same position he and his mother had been in when his father and stepdaughter had walked unannounced into the house. They were rolling around on the living room floor in a sixty-nine position, arms and legs wrapped tightly around each other, lapping each other's twats with lusty gusto. For a moment it shocked him to see his mother thus engaged in a homosexual embrace, but the wildly erotic beauty of the scene instantly transformed his shock into an urgent necessity to join them. He was ripping off his clothes even as he closed the front door behind him.
They were both so hot and cumming so constantly that they didn't even notice his arrival. The air was heavy and sweet with their womanly scents, and the smacking of their lips made him lick his as he tore at his clothing. They presented a perfect contrast. His mother's naked body was all full and round, very white and blonde and suffused with pink. Debbie's body was slender and dark, marked with the white patches left from her bathing suit, and suffused with the same pink glow of sex. Debbie's legs were long and firm, and his mother's were much thicker and softer with flesh that was constantly jiggling like jello. His mother's tits were so big that they were extruded out from between their clasping torsos, and Debbie's were so small he couldn't even see them. He could see neither of their faces clearly, for these were buried in flesh that he longed for with every fiber in his being, but everything he did see of them was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Naked at last, prick up hard, he threw himself down on the tangle of orgasming woman flesh there on the living room floor.
Glen pawed at them and rolled about with them, everywhere encountering flesh so sexy and good that he had to have more, much more of it. "Let me in! I want to do it, too!" he pleaded, but his mother and his half-sister were far too involved with their orgasms to pay him notice now.
His mother's lovely big ass was right there, and he bumped his head against Debbie's as he bent to bury his face in the crack of it and taste the sweet sex flowing through her crotch. His throbbing prick was bouncing and rubbing against more sexy naked flesh, whose he did not know, and he mouthed and licked and added more to his mother's orgasms and more to his need to cum with them. Then Debbie's ass was at hand, like cantaloupes in comparison to the watermelons of Betty's big buttocks, and Glen kissed and sucked them with equal ardor. Her taste was sweeter but no better than his mother's taste, and it too added to Glen's overwhelming excitement.
Glen kissed them and laid hands on them everywhere, pleading for them to let him get between them, and still they rolled in each other's arms, sucking cunt, cumming constantly. Each wracking shudder that ripped through their tightly embracing bodies increased his need for completion and made him moan with frustration despite this over-abundance of hot, lovely, naked flesh that was his to play with.
At last in his frustration he mounted them both. He got astride them and jammed his hot prick deep into slick flesh, pumped only once and began to cream and shoot and squirt between their tightly clasped torsos.
"I'M FUCKING YOU BOTH AT ONCE, BOTH AT ONCE!" he cried, rubbing his convulsing balls against both white and tanned flesh, spewing his fecund load into the tight sandwich of their bodies.
Newer, deeper orgasmic ripples coursed through them as they felt him join them in these supreme feelings. "MMMMM! MMMMMM!!!" He didn't know who was moaning so urgently, and perhaps it might have been him, all he knew were the huge feelings of cumming that were ricocheting through the close, close triangle of their tightly enmeshed bodies.
At last they all relaxed in unison, and the two lovely women rolled away from each other sighing. Betty smiled at Glen and said, "You're late from school, dear."
"Sorry, Mom," he said, quite automatically.
"Never mind, honey. You got here on time."
Debbie struggled to sit up, smiling and saying, "Hi, little brother. I'm glad you could join us."
He tore his eyes from her flushed and disheveled young beauty and said, "Did she already, uh...."
Betty patted his hand. "We had a talk, of sorts. Everything's going to be all right, I think." But let's not worry about it now. Give your sister a kiss, Glennie, and tell her you're glad she came."
He kissed her on the mouth, marveling at the sweet, firm movements of her lips and tongue. He felt of the sweet little titties he'd been ogling for the past week, and when the kiss ended, he said, "Hi, Sissie. Uh, anyplace else you'd like to be kissed?"
Debbie looked quizzically at Betty, and placed her cupped hand over her twat. "I told you he loves to eat pussy," said Betty. "Do him a favor and give him some, while you lie beside me and we talk."
Betty stretched out one arm, and Debbie snuggled into the crook of it. They lay side by side while Glen crouched on the floor at their legs, feasting his eyes on Debbie's compact cunt. He tried to remember everything he'd learned at his mother's loins as he gently separated the tender wet lips of his half-sister, but once his mouth was pressed against that sweet slit there was no need to do anything but act natural.
"What a wonderful, wonderful afternoon this has been," said Debbie, "and it keeps on getting better all the time."
Glen looked up over their two naked bodies, saw Debbie's cute little titties pointing straight up, while his mother's lovely big milkbags lolled in their direction, as if they too could see and appreciate them. Not that his mother's tits were any less lovely.
"And," said Betty, "it could get even better than this, all the time, if only it weren't for Paul and his old-fashioned ways."
Looking sideways, Glen saw his mother's cunt right there, and he took the initiative and used his hand on it. It was softer, more luxurious than the one he was sucking. It would probably be his favorite for life, but he enjoyed Debbie's while he had it for himself.
"I'm glad Glen's not so old-fashioned," said Debbie, and reached down to rumple his hair.
"I trained him well," said Betty, and Glen was treated to the sight of the two naked women rolling together to exchange a deep kiss, while Debbie squirmed her tight little cunt against his mouth in the first sweet stages of orgasm.
"Mm! Mm! Mm!" she grunted, even through the kiss, and Glen obligingly sucked harder on her clit, pulling insistently on his mother's bigger clit at the same time. He wanted to stay with Debbie throughout the throes of ecstasy that were overtaking her, but one tug at his ear by his mother and his mouth was hotly pressed against her equally delicious cunt.
Debbie, cumming hard, quickly rolled atop him, pressing his face more deeply still against his mother's cunt. This was what he'd wanted before, and now he was getting it, locked between two cunts, feeling them cum all around his swirling head, knowing he could have all he wanted of both of them.
His half-sister fell back, and now he went from cunt to cunt like a busy bee, tasting the rich nectar that welled up from the thick petals of their cuntlips. Betty and Debbie lolled luxuriously on the floor, encouraging him with their hands on his head and their lovely naked bodies before his eyes.
"I think we should all run away together, just the three of us," Debbie said. "Daddy's okay in bed, but you two are just wild."
"Maybe you're right," said Betty. "But we're not going anyplace till Glen fucks us a little."
"Both of us?" said Debbie, smiling delightedly down at Glen, now busy with her hot cunt.
"Just a little?" said Glen, rising and wiping his mouth, showing them both how stiff his prick was.
"A little now, a lot later," said Betty, and sat up to fit his cock into his half-sister's cunt for the first of what he hoped would be many times.
"It's tight," he said, pushing it in, as she smiled her encouragement and obligingly held her legs wide open for him. "But I like yours just as much, Mom."
"Nice little cock," said Debbie to Betty, as she tilted her hips to improve an already fine fit. "Not as big as Daddy's, but nice."
"He'll grow, with exercise. But you know, I do miss Paul's big cock now and then."
"It is sorta nice," Debbie dreamily said, rotating her hips under the slowly thrusting hips of her half-brother. "If only we could get him to like eating pussy. Then the four of us would really have a time."
"We might be able to educate Paul, but I don't know...."
At this point Glen changed cunts. His mother's was right there waiting for him, and he moved to her so quickly that Debbie hardly had a chance to take his cockshaft in hand and help him with the first penetration. He grinned as he sank into her familiar, buttery depths, and he said, "I can take care of you both, but I will miss Dad now and then."
"He has been a good provider," said Betty, moving her hips in slow counterpoint to her son's quickening thrusts.
"I like the way Glen provides," Debbie said, and was able to place a warm kiss on Glen's mouth without interfering with his rhythm.
"He can ... ah-h-h-h-h ... do it all," said his mother, closing her eyes to bask in the newest of the orgasms brought to her by her son's sturdy prick. "He's always ready to stick that hard prick of his anywhere you like, in your cunt, your hand, your fanny, tits, mouth, anywhere, oh, just anywhere!" she said, and made Glen's plump young buttocks bounce high with the heavy pushes of her pelvis.
Debbie watched fascinated as her beautiful blonde stepmother did the horizontal dance of orgasm. "Does it hurt?" she said.
"Hurt? Feels marvelous!" Betty declared, with her heels digging into Glen's buttocks now her pussy gushing beautifully.
Debbie rolled over on her stomach and said, "I don't mean that. Nothing about that could hurt!"
"Nothing at all," Betty said, sighing and starting to let the liquid relaxation spread through her body.
"I mean does it hurt when our Glennie does it in the fanny?"
Glen stopped his pumping and a slow grin spread over his face as he looked at his half-sister's cute little fanny. She was grinning mischievously over her shoulder at him and causing the pure white hemispheres of her bottom to twitch and squirm provocatively. And now Betty joined them in their smiles as she said, "It doesn't hurt a bit, darling. Glen, show her that I'm right."
The boy was careful about mounting his step-sister from behind because he certainly didn't want to hurt her, and because he looked forward already to many encores of a good performance. He fitted his well-lubricated prick head quite cautiously into the tight tan ring that looked far too small for it, and Debbie eased his fears by elevating her pretty hips and wiggling him right inside her.
Up on her knees and elbows, she giggled and said, "It feels funny. I think I like regular fucking better."
"Nothing beats regular fucking in the long, day-to-day run," said Betty, and turned about and lifted her voluptuous big hips beside her step-daughter's trim little bottom. "But a little back door fucking isn't bad for a change. And I'll take a little, Glen, whenever your sister gets tired."
Glen had four holes to select from then-two cunts and two assholes-and each of them was most receptive to his penetrations. His two women smiled and talked dreamily while he went from one to the other on his knees, sampling a pussy here, and asshole there, as relaxed and contented as they were, and able to go for a long time more.
"Just fucking around on a Monday afternoon," said Betty. "That's hard to beat."
"I'm so glad I quit thumb-tripping around and stopped in for a visit," Debbie said.
"Me, too," said her half-brother, balls deep in her cute little bottom, with his strong young hands clasping her trim little hips.
"God, he can really go for a long time!" said Debbie.
"He hates to quit anything once he gets started," her stepmother explained.
"I'd better quit soon," said Glen, though he was loath to do so. "Dad's going to be home pretty soon, and he sure wouldn't like it if he saw us like this."
"He can't do anything if the three of us stick together," said Debbie, her slender waist arching gracefully and her eyes closed now, really getting with this new kind of fucking that they'd been so good as to show her.
"Yeah, we could just gang up on him and he couldn't do a darned thing!" Glen said.
"It would certainly bring everything out in the open in a hurry, and we three can't go on with our new way of life for long if we stay here and try to hide things from him."
"Let him catch us! I don't care; I just don't care!" said Debbie, quite excitedly now as she felt her first anal orgasm growing and building inside her.
"We don't have much of a choice now," said Glen, and quickly withdrew himself from the tightest of the four holes as his disposal. "That's his car outside!"
He scurried around to put the two kneeling women between himself and the front door. He'd be ready to defend them if necessary, but only if it was really necessary. Betty would have scurried for cover herself if she didn't feel so languidly content with all the sex she'd had that day. As it was, she stayed right there on the floor on her hands and knees and told Debbie to do the same. Glen looked decidedly uneasy, but the two kneeling women were giggling and looking back over their shoulders as Paul McCall, the head of the household, came briskly through the front door and stopped in his tracks.
His jaw gaped open and his eyeballs bulged out at the first sight that greeted him after a hard day's work-two beautifully rounded bottoms, each deeply cleft, glistening with sex juices, and lavishly framing beckoning pink holes. He walked to their sides, blinking and staring, while they smiled up at him with complete insouciance.
"What the hell?!?" he said, and stooped over to look under them, at the little cones of Debbie's titties that pointed down at the floor, and beyond them at Betty's big round globes swinging very gently just over the nap of the carpet. He walked around to Betty's side and gazed incredulously at her face, quite flushed with the triumphs of sex and very radiant to behold. His only daughter's face was equally aglow. There was no doubt at all of what they'd been up to, none whatsoever with his son standing naked in the background, clearly showing the mark of his new manhood.
Paul sighed and shook his head. He unbuckled his belt, and Glen said, "You're not going to let him whip me again, are you?"
"He won't hurt you this time," his mother assured him.
"Daddy, we'll all three get on you if you try to beat Glen with that belt," Debbie warned.
At last the tall dark man grinned. He said, "Hell, I'm not going to beat him, I'm going to join him, if you'll let me."
With that he dropped his belt, trousers and shorts, and was welcomed most heartily by his little family of friends.
