When Jason asked about the birds and the bees.
Mom was glad to tell him 'bout these.
And just to add to his education.
She pulled down her panties without hesitation.
And the teen-age boy was thrilled as punch
When Mom said softly, "Here, Son, eat your lunch."
CHAPTER ONE
Joyce had few illusions about her husband. She'd been married to Paul long enough to know that he lost all conscience whenever he had one of his prominent erections. So even though she was shocked when she found him in the basement with a tender teen-ager, it didn't quite kill her. After all, it wasn't as bad as it could've been, was it? It could've been his own teen-age daughter-!
Burrowing futilely in her purse, Joyce sighed. Her key must be in there. Sighing again, she gave up and snapped the purse shut. Her shoes whispered over the soft grass as she headed around the side of the house in the hope that the back door was unlocked. The way the long blades tried to tangle her feet reminded her she'd have to get Jason out with the lawn mower soon. Her mood improved when she reflected that if she stressed the muscle-building qualities of pushing the unpowered mower, Jason would be out instantly, and in seconds sweat would be pouring down his slim, tan torso.
An unexpected sound caught Joyce's attention, making her stop abruptly. There wasn't supposed to be anyone home. The voice she heard seemed to come from the ground, near the house. For a frightening second, Joyce's skin crawled with fear. Then a deeper, familiar voice rumbled up from the bushes by the house and she relaxed. She wondered why Paul wasn't playing tennis as he said he was going to.
The higher-pitched sound of the second voice prodded Joyce's curiosity. It seemed vaguely familiar. Pushing through the shrubbery, she sought the source.
Screening branches whipped back into place behind her as she pushed close to the wall of the house. At her feet was a small window. Curious, Joyce knelt down in the cramped space between the shrubs and the foundation, then bent over to look through the window.
"You were fantastic, Mister Kirkland," a girl's voice squealed enthusiastically.
"Please, call me Paul, like I told you," Joyce's husband urged. "We did very well. You aren't any slouch yourself."
"You were fantastic," the girl, Patty Conklin, repeated. "That last volley with Judy and Daddy was stupendous."
Joyce felt relief, and mild puzzlement. Evidently there'd been a mixed doubles match. But usually Judy and her father played on the same team, against the Conklins. And where were Judy and Patty's father now?
"Care for a beer?" Paul asked the slender blonde.
"Gee, no thanks, Mister ... uh, Paul," Patty replied. "I'm not allowed to drink. My parents think I'm too young."
Joyce was silently agreeing, when Paul assured the girl, "You're never too young. Besides, you're not that young. You're fifteen."
"Almost," Patty corrected, as she took the beer from him. "But if my parents knew I was having a beer, they'd skin me alive."
From where she was, Joyce could see most of the basement playroom. Paul and Patty were sitting on the low couch opposite the window. Paul's tennis shirt had dark sweat stains, and his curly black hair, flecked with a few silver strands, was stringy with perspiration.
Patty Conklin, however, looked young, clean and fresh in her short, stylish tennis dress. Her long blonde hair was in a ponytail. Her skin was a golden tan.
Joyce was about to stand up and back out of the bushes when Patty suddenly moved her hand. The beer can went flying out of her grasp. Perversely, the can upended in the girl's lap, and amber liquid and white foam poured over her dress. Patty lurched up with a wail of despair, the can clattering to the floor as she brushed frantically at the beer staining her dress.
"Oh, no," Patty wailed. "Look what I've done."
Joyce felt a strange surge of satisfaction at the girl's plight, as if it served her right.
"If my folks smell beer on me, I'll really be in the soup," Patty moaned miserably. She lifted the hem of her dress and flapped it, trying to dry it. The motion exposed demure white tennis briefs, along with the rest of her slim, graceful, golden thighs.
Joyce didn't miss the way Paul's eyes flickered up and down the length of Patty's legs. "Is your dress washable?" Paul asked.
"Of course it is. But I can't wash it here."
"Why not? We've got a washing machine and a dryer. In an hour you'll be as good as new."
"Well, maybe," Patty temporized. "But what would I wear while it's washing?"
Joyce's blood turned to ice water. She suddenly had the horrible suspicion that there wasn't anything particularly new about this scene. There was a tone to the conversation that somehow suggested it wasn't the first time her husband and the sleek blonde teen-ager had been alone together. Joyce's heart labored to pump icy slush through her veins.
Paul's grin was wicked. "Why wear anything? Joyce won't be home for hours. Jason's got a ball game, and you know Judy won't be home."
"Why Mister Kirkland, what are you suggesting?" Patty teased.
"Turn around and I'll show you," Paul answered, standing up.
Demurely, casually, seductively, Patty turned her back on the tall, dark man and lifted her ponytail out of his way. "The hook, too," she suggested, her voice suddenly low and exciting.
Joyce dug her fingers into the soft soil as she knelt at the basement window, her cheek pressing into the dirt. She felt as if she were choking. She couldn't have gotten up and escaped; the strength had drained from her muscles so quickly.
Paul's hands looked very big and very powerful as he released the hook on the back of Patty's dress. He lowered the zipper quickly and efficiently, and Joyce shivered as if she could feel the vibration of every tooth of the fastener. The back of the tennis dress spread open in a symmetrical vee, exposing Patty's graceful back down to the swell of her hips. The golden skin was uninterrupted by a bra, unmarred by any tan lines or blemishes. Paul pushed the dress down over Patty's shoulders.
"Thank you," she said softly, turning and letting the dress fall down her arms. An easy motion and the dress lay in a heap around her feet.
As she faced Paul, Patty made no show of false modesty, made no attempt to conceal the perfect mounds of her breasts and their sharp pink caps. Instead, she reached for Paul's shirt and hauled it up. "As long as we're washing my clothes, let's wash yours, too," she suggested.
As Joyce watched, the slim, graceful girl peeled Paul's sweaty shirt up over his head and off. Patty's bikini panties looked very white against her evenly tanned skin. The only thing marring her tan was a faint paleness from a bikini top, on her breasts.
Paul's eyes raked over the girl's body admiringly.
When Patty reached for Paul's shorts, Joyce choked down a sob. When the girl shoved both his shorts and his underpants down in a tangle, baring his huge penis, Joyce wanted to bury her head in the dirt like an ostrich so she wouldn't have to watch. But her body betrayed her, not letting her even turn her head.
Patty ignored Paul's towering erection, kneeling to remove his shoes and socks and the tangle of his tennis shorts and underwear.
"Where's the washing machine?" Patty asked, gathering up the clothes.
When the girl disappeared into the laundry room, Joyce wanted to say something to her husband, to let him know she was there, what she'd seen, but she couldn't. All she could do was lie crumpled under the bushes, watching, tears streaking her cheeks. She heard the washing machine start, and tried again to tear herself away from the window. But before she could gather her strength, Patty came back into the room.
The girl was as nude as Paul, evidently having added her panties to the wash. "Now," Patty began impishly, "just how are we going to pass the time while our clothes are washing?" She struck a thoughtful theatrical pose that displayed her slender young body to perfection.
"I think we can think of something interesting," Paul answered, a catch in his voice. He advanced on the teen-ager and gathered her up. He carried her over to the couch and laid her down on it with surprising gentleness. Patty looked up at him and licked her lips. She let her thighs fall open to display her youthful pussy and its demure covering of reddish hair.
"Any time you're ready, C.B.," she observed, quoting the punch line from an old joke.
Paul sat on the edge of the couch, eyeing Patty hungrily. His cock was a towering pole in his lap. "Let's not rush things."
"No way!" Patty agreed fervently, wrapping her fingers around his penis. "No way!"
"Right on," Paul chuckled, his voice hoarse with excitement.
Joyce winced at Paul's attempt at hip jargon. He was old enough to be Patty's father. In fact, Judy was a year older than Patty.
"Oh, yeah," Patty moaned passionately, her back arching as Paul stroked her nude torso from her neck to her waist, brushing his powerful hand over her breasts. Patty's nipples were hard pink peaks capping the firm mounds of her breasts. Her eyes closed, Patty rolled her head from side to side. She maintained her firm hold on Paul's prick.
Joyce could see the muscles in Patty's forearm flex as she squeezed Paul's cock. A drop of fluid oozed into view at its tip and slid hesitantly into the valley between Patty's fingers and the hot, hard rod. Joyce felt dirt packing itself painfully under her nails as she dug her fingers into the ground.
Paul played with Patty's tits, plucking and twisting at her nipples. Patty's chest heaved as her breathing quickened. Paul slid his hand down Patty's stomach, toward her crotch, and her hips jerked and rolled as she dug her heels into the couch.
Paul's body blocked Joyce's view of what he was doing. The expression on Patty's face and the way her muscles were jerking didn't leave much doubt as to what was going on. Joyce could sense the way Patty's hips surged upward as Paul's finger sank into her cunt.
And deep inside her own body, Joyce felt her own desires flickering to life. She knew what Paul's finger felt like in her own hot cunt, knew exactly how it felt, and her excitement increased.
"Oh, wow," Patty moaned ecstatically, her head tossing from side to side as Paul tormented her. "Oh, God, give it to me," she pleaded.
"You want it?" Paul asked softly.
"Oh, man, you know I do," Patty wailed. "Give it to me."
"You want me to sock it to you?"
"God, yes," Patty groaned. "Sock it to me. Oh, God, sock it to me."
"Here comes the judge," Paul growled at last. He withdrew his hand from Patty's pussy. Joyce could see the girl's juices glistening on his fingers.
Paul lowered his powerful, mature body on top of Patty's young one, pressing her brutally into the couch. She spread her slender thighs wide to let him settle between her legs. She reached down and guided his cock into her cunt, as his strong hips thrust forward and upward, driving his shaft into her willing pussy.
Dragging her hand free of the dirt, Joyce crammed her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her sobs. She couldn't tear her eyes off the sight of her husband delivering his hot shaft to a girl less than half his age. His strong body seemed to dwarf Patty's. Her face was turned toward the window, her eyes closed, her mouth twisted with passion as she joyously accepted his thrusts. She clutched at Paul's strong back as she urged him on, her hips answering his thrusts.
Joyce felt her own lust searing through her like some abnormal fire. She knew exactly what it felt like to have that cock rammed into her cunt. That was her husband down there! The same cock that was pistoning in and out of-sweet, young, virginal?-Patty Conklin had drilled deep into Joyce's own pussy countless times.
Joyce felt as if she were being shredded by some wild, schizophrenic set of emotions. There was instinctive, boiling lust, mingled with an insane hatred and jealousy, and unbelievable misery. The maddening conflict kept her huddled helplessly under the shrubbery, staring at the orgiastic scene below.
Paul's hips pounded faster and faster, harder and harder. Patty began to moan and whimper. The groaning protests of the couch were mingled ludicrously with the sound of the washing machine spinning the clothes dry in the neighboring room. The pounding pulse of the machine was echoed by the quickening power of Paul's drives.
"I'm coming ... coming ... coming-comingcomingcoming!" Patty wailed faster and faster until her voice rose to a wordless shriek.
Paul slammed his hips against Patty's. His entire body shook as he poured his load of cum into her. He held on for long, exciting seconds.
From the laundry room there was the loud clack of electrical relays opening, and the pulsing whine of the spin cycle slowing and fading. Patty's and Paul's muscles relaxed and they dropped down from the peak of their pleasure. Joyce stifled her own whimpers of passion and misery. She felt the tension draining from her muscles.
"Stud," Patty muttered, stroking Paul's back.
"Right on," Paul replied softly.
"Laundry's done," Patty observed.
"Oh, hell."
"It's still got to go through the dryer."
"Ahh. I'll get it."
"You save your strength," Patty argued, pushing him back down on the couch. "You're going to need it, old man."
"I'm not old," Paul flared, stung.
"It's just an expression," Patty assured him quickly from the doorway, turning to look at him. "I didn't mean it."
"Just because my wife is slowing down doesn't mean I am," Paul insisted, loudly enough for Patty to hear him in the laundry room. Joyce saw red.
"Hey, okay," Patty agreed quickly as she came back into the room, still nude.
"Come here and I'll prove it," Paul growled.
Patty settled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him. "You don't have to prove a thing to me," she assured him.
Paul didn't answer, but turned and pushed the young girl on her back and stared down at her. She kicked her feet wildly around him, giving him an uninhibited view of her juicy cunt as she spread her thighs wide and straddled him.
Paul's cock was hard and ready again as he turned and came down on her. This time Joyce could see everything as his organ powered into Patty's pussy, stretching her youthful channel wide with its bulk. Joyce fought to gather her scattered strength as she watched Paul's shaft sink out of sight into Patty's cunt. Pushing away from the basement window, Joyce used the wall to steady herself. She felt terribly old and sad as she struggled to stand up. She could still see her husband's cock drilling into the pink tissues of Patty's pussy as she pushed out through the scratching branches of the shrubbery.
Somehow, she found her way to her car. The keys that had eluded her before and led to her staggering discovery dangled in the ignition.
Sometime later-minutes? hours?-she found herself in a bar, a half-empty glass on the table in front of her. She was in a dark comer at the back. "What did you say?" she asked numbly, staring up bleary-eyed at the man towering over her.
"I asked if you'd mind some company?" the man repeated patiently.
Joyce shrugged. The man sat down and crooked a finger at the bartender. "Are you all right?" the man asked, obviously a bit concerned.
"I'm old," Joyce muttered, not really looking at . him.
"Huh?"
"I'm old," Joyce repeated. "Can't you see? I'm old and used up and worthless."
"Would you care for a refill, Miss?" the bartender asked, setting a glass in front of the man sitting next to Joyce.
"Miss?" Joyce echoed, her voice threatening to crack into hysteria. "It's Missus," she announced, her voice slurring. She waved her ring finger wildly. The bartender faded away.
"You could fool me," the man said quickly, capturing her hand. "Doesn't look like Missus to me."
Joyce suddenly looked at her hand, and a dim memory of ripping her ring off and stuffing it in her purse trickled through her mind. "Well, it's true," she insisted. "Isn't it?"
"Of course," the young man next to her agreed. His expression was one of calculation. "I'll bet you can prove that you aren't old."
"Prove it?" Joyce mumbled, confused. "Sure."
Joyce really looked at the man for the first time. Alcohol made it impossible for her to read his expression. But she could appreciate his rugged, young good looks. "Prove it how?"
The man smirked. "Oh, I think you could figure out a way. You're not old and used up. I'm sure of that. Of course, if you really are, then you'll just I sit here like a lump."
"I'm not old," Joyce flared, goaded by his insolence.
"Oh?"
Joyce grabbed her drink and tossed the rest of it , down. She slammed the glass back down the table hard enough for the noise to make the few afternoon drinkers turn and look her way. She didn't know what to do. Silence stretched.
"I guess I was wrong," the man sighed. "I guess you are all used up."
Joyce pushed the table away and swayed to her feet. She felt like a scene out of a bad movie. "Your place or mine?" she asked, too bewildered r to realize she couldn't take him home with her.
Joyce didn't see the young man's superior, smug smile as he stood up. "Mine's close."
Joyce let herself be guided to a small apartment and heard the door close behind her. She tried to get her mind organized, but the shock and alcohol combined to reduce her desires to two elemental goals. Her lust was still percolating through her, and the drive to prove her husband wrong was urging her on. She turned on the young man, reaching for the buttons of her blouse. "Still think I'm old and washed up?"
"That remains to be seen."
It seemed to take Joyce forever to get out of her clothes. Finally she was shoving her panties down and off, then standing boldly nude in front of the total stranger. "Still think so?"
The look in the man's eyes as he studied her was almost answer enough. He licked his lips. There was a bulge in his pants. Joyce advanced on him, her hips swaying. She reached for his shirt and began to strip him. Then she had him naked and was urging him toward the bed. She was aflame with desire, and with revenge, as she guided the man and felt his cock slide smoothly into her hot pussy. Closing her eyes, she let her lust blot out everything else, until she was coming and coming and coming.
She woke up to find the man standing over her, fastening his belt. "Well?" she asked.
The man didn't say anything, but reached in his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. "We never did settle on a price."
Joyce shot up out of the bed as if she'd been goosed. "What?"
"This should cover it," the man went on, handing her a pair of folded bills.
Joyce stared blankly at the two twenties. "But...."
"More?" the man asked.
Joyce dropped the money as if it had burned her fingers. "No," she snapped, wiping her hand on her bare stomach.
"Huh?"
Fumbling in her haste, Joyce began to dress. "Let's just say it was on the house."
"I don't get it!"
Joyce stuffed her stockings in her purse to save time. "Still think I'm old and washed up?" she demanded.
The man shook his head. "Hey, baby, anything but. But I don't get it."
Joyce looked at him, suddenly very aware of where she was, what she'd done, and what had happened that had led up to it. "I'm thirty-four, married, and the mother of two teen-agers, and you got everything you expected."
Turning her back on him, she walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. She realized as her heels clacked loudly on the treads that she didn't even know his name. The thought brought semi-hysterical laughter bubbling up.
The noise of the street sobered her abruptly and she checked the time on a clock on the bank across the street. Quickly she turned in the direction of her car. She had a son, and a daughter, and a husband to tend to. For the time being at least.
CHAPTER TWO
"Hi, Mom," Jason called as he banged in through the back door.
"Hi, yourself. How'd the game go?" Joyce's gaze flickered over her son casually.
"We won," he answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "What's for dinner?"
"Spaghetti."
"Hi, Son, how'd it go?" Paul asked heartily as he hurried into the kitchen.
"Great. But I thought you were going to be there, Dad."
"I'm sorry, Son, but I just couldn't make it. Something came up at the last minute." Paul put his arm around Jason's shoulders. "Tell me all about it."
As her husband and son left the kitchen, Joyce reflected that something certainly had come up. About seven hot, hard inches had come up, in fact. The feeble attempt at a joke made Joyce's lips quirk sourly. Then she frowned. The thing Paul has going with that little strumpet Patty must really be something for it to make him miss one of Jason's games. Or maybe not, Joyce amended. Maybe Paul was no more devoted to Jason than he was to her. Maybe his interest in Jason was a sham, just like his loving attitude toward his wife was. Joyce started to set the table.
"Hi, Mom," Judy bubbled, sailing through the back door. "Can I help?"
Joyce darted a brief glance at her daughter. For a frightening second, she saw Patty Conklin, rather than Judy, and shivered. Then the vision was gone, leaving just Judy standing by the stove, peering into the steaming pot. Joyce felt a small surge of pride and affection toward her daughter. She was slender and beautiful. She had inherited her sandy-blonde hair from her mother, her dark eyes from her father.
"Hi, Honey," Joyce said, finding her voice. "Why don't you go get washed up? I'm almost done here."
Judy bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Joyce to puzzle over the slight flush in her daughter's cheeks. Shrugging, Joyce decided the girl must've been running.
Surprisingly, the evening passed normally. Joyce did nothing to indicate what shattering jolts she had experienced that day. Only after she was in bed next to her husband did she let any change appear in her routine. Then, after turning out her light, she rolled to her left side instead of her right, so her back was toward her husband. She immediately dropped off to sleep.
On Sunday, as usual, they all went to church, Joyce on one end, Paul on the other, the two teen-agers in the middle. They stood and sang, knelt and prayed. Joyce decided that never before had there been two more hypocritical bookends for a family than her husband and herself.
Monday brought the relief of having her family dispersed. Paul was off to turn a buck at the office, Judy and Jason to school, the waning days of the spring term. The house was hollow. In her bedroom, Joyce let her robe drop and stood in front of the full-length mirror, studying her body critically. Lifting her arms, she studied the curve of her breasts, the line of her ribs. She pinched the slight layer of fat on her tummy, and frowned. She hadn't realized it was so thick. And there were bulges at the tops of her thighs that she'd never noticed. And her buttocks looked just a little saggy. She sighed. She had to admit, that although she wasn't old, she was a little out of shape. Joyce scanned the bookshelves until she found the book of exercises she wanted.
The only room with enough open space to work out in was the basement playroom. Joyce felt her stomach turn over as she went down the stairs. She thought she could see a stain on the floor from Patty's spilled beer, and a dark splotch of dried cum on the couch, but a shake of her head dispelled the illusion. She tossed the book on the couch and stretched out on the floor. The rug felt cool against her naked skin. She hadn't bothered to dress.
She was halfway through the exercises she'd set for herself, when she heard a voice upstairs. "Come on down to the basement, Barbara," she called out.
"What in the world are you doing in the...." Her neighbor's voice trailed off as she came down the stairs.
"Exercising," Joyce panted. "Care to join me?"
Bending down, the woman picked up the exercise book and studied it.
"Come on; it'll be good for you," Joyce urged, not wanting to exercise alone.
Barbara dropped the book and reached for the belt of her robe. "Really think I need it?" she asked proudly. She opened the robe and let it slide down her arms and off. Then she posed like a model, one foot slightly forward, with the toe pointed.
Joyce looked up the entire length of her neighbor's nude body. There wasn't a spare ounce on her. Barbara was tall, about five-foot ten, and trim, despite broad shoulders and a good-sized waist. Her breasts were firm, perfect hemispheres, with neat, dark nipples. Her skin was pale, and spotted with freckles where the sun could get at it.
"No, I guess you don't, really," Joyce admitted. From where she was, she could see right up into Barbara's dark-red pubic hair. Try as she would, Joyce couldn't tear her eyes away from the dark crevice. "But I need it," she added at last.
"I'll watch," Barbara said easily, settling on the couch without bothering to put her robe back on.
Joyce felt a weird tremor at the sight of Barbara sitting nude right where Paul had been ramming his cock into the pussy of a fifteen-year-old girl. Joyce rolled to her side, her back to the couch, and began her leg lifts. As she worked up a mild sweat, she decided her world was becoming inundated by naked bodies.
Rolling over, Joyce began to exercise her other leg. She was facing the couch now, and couldn't avoid looking directly at Barbara.
Barbara licked her lips as she stared at Joyce. Her eyes looked strange. Joyce noticed that her neighbor was sitting with one ankle crossed over her knee, like a man would sit. The position left Barbara totally exposed. And, as Joyce watched, Barbara slid her hand down to her red bush and pressed her fingers into her pussy.
Joyce was flabbergasted. She suddenly realized that her leg lifts were exposing her as completely as Barbara was exposed by her position. Joyce felt a sudden, surprising surge of warmth in her crotch. She felt her nipples stiffen unexpectedly. Barbara was staring at her hungrily.
Barbara licked her lips and swallowed. "This reminds me of my college days," she observed, in a peculiar throaty tone.
"Your ... college days?" Joyce asked hesitantly, stopping her leg lifts.
"My roommate was almost as beautiful as you," Barbara went on, her voice dreamy. "She was young and tender, and oh, so sweet."
Joyce was simultaneously flattered by Barbara's comparison, and shaken by the turn the conversation was taking.
"She was a lighter blonde than you," Barbara continued softly, "And her pussy didn't have as much hair as yours does."
Joyce, suddenly extremely self-conscious, cupped her hand over her crotch.
Barbara was sliding her finger deep into her cunt as she stared dreamily down at Joyce. Barbara uncrossed her legs, spread her thighs wide, and slumped down until the back of her neck rested on the back of the sofa. Her ass was half-off the couch. She kept petting her pussy with her right hand, and began to pull her nipples with her left.
"We used to ... enjoy each other so much," Barbara whispered raggedly. "God, those days were good. Oh, God!"
Barbara suddenly convulsed, her muscles knotting as she dug her fingers deep into her pussy. Her eyes squeezed shut, the redhead chewed on her lower lip. A gush of juices oozed over the fingers of her right hand.
Joyce stared at her neighbor wonderingly. She'd never seen anything like it before in her life. Expecting to feel disgust, Joyce was astonished at the increasing feeling of excitement that was bringing a lump to her throat. The hand she was using to shield her crotch suddenly shifted and she pressed one finger in an attempt to scratch the peculiar itch in her cunt. Instead of relieving the itch, the attention only increased it. Joyce pulled her finger away from her pleasure center.
Barbara shook herself, and opened her eyes. She didn't pull her hand away from her crotch, but left her fingers there.
"Sorry," she apologized innocently.
"It's ... all right," Joyce answered, her voice catching. "I didn't realize you were ... that way."
"What way? Oh, you mean a Lesbian? I'm not," Barbara said quickly.
"But you just said...."
Barbara looked at Joyce closely. "Didn't you ever experiment?"
Joyce shook her head. "Huh-uh, never."
"Oh, come on, you must have," Barbara insisted.
"Never, honest," Joyce argued, suddenly on the defensive.
"I don't believe you."
"Really, I'm telling the truth. I've never done anything like ... that."
"Well, I'll be damned," Barbara grunted, finally believing Joyce. "Will wonders never cease? A delightful morsel like you never having a Lesbian experience. I didn't think it was possible."
"Well, I haven't," Joyce insisted.
"Oh, I believe you," Barbara assured her quickly.
Joyce contemplated the situation. Then she gathered her courage. "Is it, uh, fun?"
Barbara looked surprised. "Of course it's fun. Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know," Joyce admitted. "I always thought it would be sort of disgusting."
Barbara shrugged. "I suppose it could be, if you think about sex that way. Personally, I've never thought anything about sex is disgusting."
"Is it better than men?"
"Good heavens, no!" Barbara exclaimed, astonished. "At least, not for me. I suppose for a real dyke, it is. God, no, it's just a nice diversion, is all."
"Oh." Joyce turned this idea over thoughtfully. "Do you still, uh, do it?"
Barbara had taken her hand out of her pussy, sat up and crossed her legs demurely. She had draped her arms along the back of the couch. "I haven't in years," she stated. "Haven't really had the opportunity." Comprehension suddenly dawned. "Are you angling toward what I think you're angling toward?"
Joyce blushed in confusion and embarrassment. "Oh, no, of course not."
"Oh, yes, you are," Barbara crowed. "Don't lie to me. You are so."
"No, I'm not," Joyce lied. "I'm just ... curious."
"Just curious," Barbara echoed. "I thought you said it was disgusting."
"Well, I thought it was," Joyce admitted. "But I could be wrong." She could hardly tell her neighbor that what she'd seen between Paul and Patty, along with her own adulterous experience, had demolished all of her previous notions about sex. And the obvious interest and admiration Barbara was displaying were new proof to Joyce that she was still young and desirable.
"You really do want to try it, don't you?" Barbara observed.
"Uh, yeah," Joyce admitted at last, picking at the rug.
"Huh!" Barbara snorted, making her breasts jiggle. "Well, it was going to be kind of a slow, dull day today."
"You mean you will!" Joyce exclaimed, looking up at Barbara hopefully.
"Why not? I didn't have anything else to do this morning," Barbara agreed easily, as if she were discussing a game of cards or a shopping trip. She eyed Joyce speculatively. "Sounds like fun."
"Oh, my goodness," Joyce gulped.
Barbara slid down from the couch to the floor. "You're not going to back out now, are you? Not after you got me all stirred up."
Joyce fought down the urge to run away. "Of course not," she retorted, more bravely than she felt. "N ... now come here and k ... k ... kiss me," she stuttered. She puckered up and closed her eyes.
For a long, agonizing, frightening moment, nothing happened. Joyce squeezed her eyes tighter shut. She was terrified nothing was going to happen. She was sure nothing was going to happen. She'd made a complete fool of herself. She was going to open her eyes, and Barbara would be gone, having left her alone looking like an idiot. Or worse, she was going to open her eyes and Barbara would still be there, and would be laughing at her.
The touch of Barbara's hands on her shoulders sent a welcome shiver of relief through Joyce. The touch of the other woman's lips against hers drained the fear of rejection out of her instantly.
Joyce's fear was replaced by warmth, and the heat of the kiss grew and swelled, turning from the friendly-greeting peck of two neighbors to the searing heat of lovers devouring each other. Letting Barbara be the guide, Joyce followed along, savoring the steadily increasing violence of her feelings. She let Barbara's tongue invade her mouth, tasted the coffee and cigarettes on her breath. She also tasted ... different from a man.
A peculiar jolt of realization flushed through Joyce without disturbing her growing passion. She hadn't even kissed the man she'd had on Saturday!
Then the thought was pushed away by the growing intensity of Joyce's passion. Hesitantly, blindly, her lips still locked to Barbara's, her eyes still sealed shut, Joyce reached out. Her seeking fingers bumped against Barbara's lower torso. Joyce slid her hands around Barbara, marveling at the smooth, hairless softness of the woman's skin. Barbara felt so totally different from a man, Joyce didn't have to remind herself that she was kissing a woman.
Joyce felt Barbara's hands slide down from her shoulders to her ribs, and goose pimples rippled up her spine. Barbara's hands slid inward, below Joyce's breasts, and Joyce straightened her spine to make her breasts stand out more. Barbara's hands slid up to lift and weigh Joyce's breasts, and Joyce was sure she was going to melt down into a helpless puddle. Barbara brushed her thumbs over Joyce's nipples, and Joyce felt as if her breasts had been dipped in molten metal, molten metal that poured into her, coursing through her veins.
With an uncontrollable moan, Joyce broke the kiss and let her head snuggle into the curve of Barbara's neck. Her eyes opened and she found herself looking down the smooth, pale, freckled expanse of Barbara's back.
Barbara toyed with Joyce's breasts for a marvelously long time. Then she slid her hands around Joyce's back and guided her to a lying position on the rug on the hard floor. Sinking down with her, Barbara settled in the circle of Joyce's arms and pressed the full length of her body against Joyce's. Soft breast met soft breast, smooth thigh slid over smooth thigh, and Joyce was in a wild, wonderful new world.
As she pressed herself against Barbara's feminine softness, Joyce catalogued all the wild differences, all the smells and the sounds. And above all else, the only roughness touching her, other than the rug, was Barbara's bristly patch of pubic hair. Barbara was grinding her crotch against Joyce's smooth, sensitive thigh. Joyce responded by pushing her thigh hard up into Barbara's cunt. Joyce ground her own excited, sticky, hairy pussy against Barbara's thigh.
Locking her arms around Barbara's well-muscled body, Joyce writhed against her. She could feel her breasts meeting Barbara's in a contest of softness. She could feel Barbara's smooth belly against hers, feel the arch of Barbara's pubic bone grinding against her thigh.
At the same time, Joyce was savoring the feeling of her clit grinding against Barbara's thigh. Wriggling against Barbara, she lifted herself higher and higher. She was soaring up to a climax that was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was a searing fire that bathed her entire body in pleasure. And there wasn't any penetration involved! Her cunt was empty, chaste. She was coming without a cock, or anything in her body at all. Joyce let the orgasm burst over her, pushing herself against Barbara's body as hard as she could. As she came like a fountain, pouring juices out over Barbara's thigh, she instinctively sank her teeth into Barbara's shoulder.
Joyce was dimly aware of Barbara frantically scrubbing her hairy pussy along her thigh. She heard Barbara panting as her hips writhed desperately. Then there was a new, sticky-hot feeling on her thigh, and Joyce knew that Barbara was coming.
Joyce clung to her neighbor as her orgasm slowly faded and died, leaving her limp. Then she lifted her head to give Barbara a warm thank-you kiss.
Barbara brought her mouth down on Joyce's like an avenging angel. All the fires Joyce thought had died blazed back to life in a few magnificent split seconds as Barbara drove her tongue deep into Joyce's mouth. Joyce responded vigorously with her own tongue and teeth and lips.
All at once, Barbara's hands seemed to be everywhere on Joyce's body, seeking and stroking, touching wild, unexpected places. Joyce's body came to life in a series of flickering brush fires that rapidly became a conflagration roaring through her, an inferno of lust. Learning every second, Joyce responded with her own sensitive fingers, tracing exciting lines and paths over Barbara's smooth, sweat-slicked skin.
Joyce found another wild, wonderful new difference between Barbara's body and a man's. There was a subtle layer of fat beneath the skin, cushioning the sleek muscles, padding Barbara out in a marvelously exciting way. Where a man was muscular-hard, Barbara was muscular-soft.
It was magnificent.
Joyce let Barbara push her on her back, extending her arms to maintain contact with the glorious redhead. Joyce feasted her eyes on her neighbor's body, feeling she was truly beginning to appreciate the sleek beauty of another woman. Joyce reached out to touch and measure Barbara's firm, shapely breasts. At the same time, she left herself totally open to Barbara's hands and eyes, thrilling to the way the redhead petted and admired her.
"You are a beauty," Barbara sighed happily. "You're soft and warm and young and beautiful."
Joyce started to reply, but Barbara put a finger on her lips.
"No, shhh." Barbara hissed. "Don't say anything. I'll bet you taste as delicious as you look."
Joyce felt a tremor of fear and shock temper her lust. She bit her lower lip nervously as she watched Barbara slowly turning and lowering her head toward her crotch. She'd never had anyone do anything like this to her in her life!
Joyce felt Barbara's hot breath on her belly and began shaking. She felt Barbara's face brushing against her pubic hair and shivered, digging her fingers into the carpet.
Barbara's tongue invaded Joyce's slit, and Joyce thought she was going to die with the pleasure it brought. A volcano of lust roared through her, ringing a wordless cry out of her. Joyce's muscles jerked and convulsed as Barbara bored her tongue into her pussy.
Barbara was moving, shifting, creeping around, even while she was drilling her tongue into Joyce's cunt. Joyce knew what her neighbor was doing, knew what was coming, knew what was expected of her, and quailed at the thought. Barbara was lifting one knee over Joyce's face, and Joyce was helping her, guiding her even while her stomach was knotting with a wrenching combination of lust and fear.
Joyce found Barbara's knees on either side of her head. She was staring up into Barbara's red bush and could see the glistening tissues of the redhead's excited pussy. Joyce wrapped her arms around Barbara's thighs, gripped the woman's firm, shapely buttocks, and drew her cunt downward toward her mouth. Licking her lips nervously, Joyce tried to prepare herself for what was coming. The room was slowly being blocked out by Barbara's descending body.
There was a wild new smell pouring into Joyce's nostrils, the smell of a healthy, clean woman. Joyce's mouth watered.
And all the while, Barbara's tongue was driving Joyce wild.
Joyce pressed her lips to Barbara's pussy, feeling the way the labia moved aside to make a funnel guiding her deeper and deeper. Joyce slid her tongue deep into the hot, wet, sticky folds of Barbara's cunt, and almost choked with excitement. Joyce was coming, pouring waves of juice into Barbara's sucking mouth. Joyce was fucking Barbara's cunt with her tongue, tasting the wild, metallic saltiness of Barbara's secretions, smelling the innermost secrets of Barbara's body. Joyce was eating Barbara out with total abandon, desperately eager to trigger the gush of juices that would fill her mouth, frantic to give Barbara the same fantastic pleasure she herself was experiencing.
Wrapping her arms around Barbara's thighs, Joyce trapped the redhead's hips, crushing them down to her, grinding her nose into Barbara's steaming crotch. Joyce stroked the length of Barbara's pussy with her tongue, until she felt Barbara begin to writhe frantically on top of her. Joyce felt hot, sticky juices pour out of Barbara, and slurped them up hungrily, her lips working wildly over the turgid inner lips of the redhead's cunt. She didn't leave any nook or cranny of Barbara's cunt unexplored.
Locked in a wild, tangled knot of passion, heads to crotches, the two women came and came and came.
The world began to spin around Joyce, her consciousness began to fade, and her lungs ached. Barbara's streaming cunt was smothering her! Passion was replaced with panic, and Joyce shoved at Barbara, pushing her up and off, driving her away.
Light suddenly flooded Joyce's eyes and she gratefully gulped a huge breath of fresh air. Her muscles slowly relaxed, leaving her limp and panting. Her excitement declined, finally fading to just a memory. Joyce felt Barbara's juices drying, cold and sticky, on her cheeks and chin and licked some of them off while she lay there panting.
"Oh, my," Barbara groaned from beside Joyce.
"Wow," Joyce sighed.
Silence.
"I need a shower," Joyce said at last, rolling slowly to a sitting position.
"Mind if I join you?" Barbara asked. "Be my guest."
Soon the two of them were bumping slickly together under the spray, giggling insanely. Trading the soap back and forth, they lathered each other down, sluicing away the sweat and cum and triggering new warmth in each other. They pressed their soapy bodies together, their hands seeking each other's secret inner recesses. Joyce happily humped herself on Barbara's finger. She pumped her own finger in and out of the redhead's cunt until a new wave of cum displaced the lather on her hand. They clung together as their orgasms washed over them.
It wasn't until the hot water was running out that they finished their shower.
"I didn't finish my exercises," Joyce commented as she let Barbara dry her back.
"Huh, as if you cared," Barbara retorted. "Besides, you got more exercise this way."
"I'll say I did."
"What got into you anyway?" Barbara asked as they made their way back down to the basement to get their robes.
"What do you mean?" Joyce asked innocently, tying her belt.
Barbara looked at Joyce speculatively. "You've never been exactly what I would call wild, you know. You never experimented sexually. Something happened to change you."
"Nonsense," Joyce tried to argue, knowing that her neighbor was right.
"It's not nonsense," Barbara retorted. "Come on, give. Something must've happened. Did you just have a birthday or something?"
"You know my birthday was six months ago," Joyce argued, trying to head Barbara off.
"Well then, what did happen?" Barbara insisted.
"I just felt like maybe I was missing something," Joyce lied.
Barbara quirked her lips in disbelief, still studying Joyce. Then she shrugged and turned toward the stairs. "Okay, have it your way. I've got to be getting home. I only came over to borrow some sugar."
"Help yourself on the way out. I think I'll finish my exercises."
Barbara paused on the stairs. "I'd swear that all of a sudden you were afraid of getting old."
"I'm not getting old," Joyce flared sharply.
"Sweetie, we're all getting old," Barbara observed philosophically. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Joyce replied half-heartedly. She tried unsuccessfully to deny the truth of what Barbara had said. Then she stiffened her resolve. She wasn't getting old. And she was going to make Barbara, Paul, and everyone else regret even thinking that she was. She began exercising with renewed resolve.
CHAPTER THREE
After half an hour, Joyce finally felt relaxed enough to shift and squirm in irritation. It had taken her what had seemed like a century to work up enough courage to strip naked and stretch out for a sunbath in the well-screened backyard. After fifteen minutes, she'd begun really to enjoy the sensuous feeling of the sun on her bare skin. Now there was a lump in the grass that was poking her in her left shoulder blade, refusing to let her doze off in peace. Rolling over with a grunt, she pulled the corner of the towel down and tried to find what was digging into her. She pulled on the lump of grass, then tried to pound it down with the heel of her hand. Nothing worked. With a weary sigh, she got up and dragged the towel over a foot.
This time when she stretched out, there was a painful lump right under her left buttock. She sighed. It had started out to be such a nice, peaceful, quiet Saturday. Jason was off playing baseball, Paul was off playing tennis-or screwing Patty Conklin, or both. Judy had gone off to do whatever she did with her current boy friend. Joyce had been left wonderfully alone. Paul had seemed a little upset that she wasn't taking her usual leisurely Saturday shopping trip, but had tried not to show it. Joyce knew he was mad, because it cramped his style with Patty, which gave Joyce some slight satisfaction.
Now the lumps in the grass were intruding on her own pleasure. Joyce debated moving the towel again, then thought of the thin foam rubber camping mattresses stored in the attic. They were the ideal solution, but she always had a horrible time with the attic ladder. She could never get it to swing down from the trap door. She sighed.
Then she cocked an ear. There was silence except for a bee buzzing. Then she heard the doorbell. She frowned and tried to ignore it. She didn't want to answer it.
Whoever was there certainly wasn't patient. They leaned on the button, and the bell began to shrill incessantly.
"All right, all right, all right," Joyce grumbled, reaching for her short beach robe and slipping it on. Usually she wore it over her bathing suit. Now the terry cloth felt scratchy against her bare nipples as she fastened the belt and hurried through the house. "I'm coming," she called out irritably as the endless, mind-scrambling noise went on and on.
She jerked the door open and the youth who'd been leaning on the button jerked his hand away and staggered back a step. "Ooops, I'm sorry, Mrs. Kirkland," he apologized. "I didn't expect you to be here."
Joyce's temper was a bit short. "Just who did you expect to answer that racket, George?" It was Judy's current flame.
"I'm sorry," George apologized again, his voice cracking. "I thought Judy was here, down in the playroom, and I wasn't sure she could hear the bell. I won't disturb you, Mrs. Kirkland. I'm sorry."
"Wait!" Joyce felt suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to snap at you."
"Oh, that's all right," George assured her, nervously swinging his arms and backing away.
"No, no it's not. Please, don't run away."
George stopped. "Well, if Judy's not here, it's kind of silly for me to stay."
"I thought Judy was with you," Joyce noted. "Why don't you come in? I imagine she'll be home soon. There's no reason you shouldn't wait here."
"Well, maybe," George agreed reluctantly.
Joyce stepped aside to let him past her, and was suddenly conscious of her nudity under the very short robe, and the heat of George's healthy young body. "Where is Judy? Playing tennis?"
"Oh, no," George answered quickly. "She went off with your husband and Patty and Patty's father."
"Oh?" Joyce tried to keep her voice steady as a chill clamped down on her heart.
"Yeah. We ran into them at the tennis courts, and Judy just ignored me like I wasn't there. I thought maybe they'd come here or something."
"No, they didn't even call here," Joyce answered thoughtfully. "You say the four of them left together?"
"Yeah. They all went off together, real friendly-like." George looked miserable. "Judy didn't even know I was there, she was so busy nuzzling up to Mister Conklin. Oh, I guess I shouldn't have said that."
Joyce's suspicion hardened into certainty. "That's all right," she said softly. How many people was Paul going to drag down? God, now his own daughter was involved in his infidelities. Or was she? She probably just had a schoolgirl crush on Mark Conklin.
Then Joyce thought of something else, and subtle excitement stirred inside her. If her husband had a young girl, why shouldn't she have a young boy?
"I guess I'd better be going," George said again. "No, wait," Joyce said, thinking quickly. "Before you go, could you do me a favor?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. What?"
"There's something in the attic I need, and I can never get the ladder down. I guess I'm too short, or too light, or something. You're pretty good-sized. I'm sure you could get it down."
"Sure," the youth agreed, flattered.
Joyce led him upstairs to the second floor and pointed to the trap door in the ceiling. "You grab that string and pull. The door's supposed to swing right down, but I guess it sticks or something." She wiped suddenly sweaty palms on her robe.
George raised his arm to judge the jump, then leaped easily and grabbed the string. It stretched ominously; then there was a muffled groan and the door yielded, swinging the ladder down into the hall.
Joyce pushed past George. "Could you steady this, please?" she asked. She felt him move up behind her and saw his hands grip the ladder on either side of her. Then she started up, incredibly aware of her total lack of clothes under the short robe. Her cheeks flamed as she climbed to the attic. She heard George gulp as she paused at the top of the ladder, reaching up for the string to the light. Reaching over her head lifted the hem of her robe and she felt cool air high on her thighs. She shifted her feet as if to improve her balance, spreading them as far apart as the ladder would permit.
"don't let the ladder go," she cautioned. "Otherwise it'll fold up on me or something." It wasn't true.
"O ... okay," George agreed, his voice cracking.
Joyce spotted a mattress and leaned over from her waist to reach it. She reached out with both arms, and knew the robe was riding high up on her naked ass from the pose. Dragging the mattress along, she turned, easing it past her and down to George. "Just toss it on the floor behind you."
She turned around, putting her back to the ladder, and managed to loosen her belt while George was busy with the mattress. "Steady the ladder," she ordered, starting down slowly. There was a delicious-looking lump in the youth's pants.
Three steps from the bottom of the ladder, Joyce felt the back of the robe catch on something. Facing away from the ladder the way she was, her hands reaching back to its rails, her body was arching toward George. He was still steadying the ladder, his hands on either side of her.
Joyce took another step down and felt the robe rising, baring her ass. The next step, and the front of her robe was pulling open and rising above her crotch.
"Don't let go," she cautioned in a voice suddenly husky and quivering. She slid her hands down to grip George's wrists. She was inside the circle of his arms.
One last step, and the robe pulled completely open. George's eyes bugged out and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. Joyce shrugged the robe back off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms. Letting go of George, she pulled her arms out of her sleeves. Then she threw her arms around George's neck and brought her lips down on his in a ferocious, devouring kiss.
For a second the teen-ager froze, stunned. Then he was responding. He let go of the ladder and wrapped his arms around Joyce.
Joyce bore him backward and down onto the mattress. The two of them landed in a tangled knot, Joyce on top. Unwrapping her arms from around him and pushing up, she straddled his thighs. She let him fondle her breasts while she reached for his fly and managed to get his pants open and pry his cock out. He was hot and ready, and so was she. Lifting herself, she skewered herself on his marvelous, huge, hard shaft, driving it up into her pussy.
"Oh, wow," Joyce sighed, lying down on top of him, relishing the feel of his massive shaft in her cunt. It had been almost two weeks since she'd had something in her pussy. She squirmed and pumped and her pleasure increased immensely. She screwed herself on the youth eagerly, driving herself up toward an orgasm as quickly as possible.
It wasn't quickly enough. She felt his cock pulse inside and squirmed frantically, then squeezed her vagina down on him as she felt his semen shooting deep into her cunt. She hovered close to her own orgasm, but didn't quite make it as she felt George filling her cunt with cum. Fighting her disappointment, she concentrated on giving George all the pleasure she could, driving her body against his thrusting one as his climax slowly began to fade.
"Oh, wow," George moaned softly. "Oh, my gosh, Mrs. Kirkland, I'm sorry. Oh, golly."
"MMMmmm," Joyce purred, feigning more satisfaction than she felt. She had to keep the boy from panicking and running away. The day was yet young. "It's all right, George, really it is."
"It is?" George's voice shattered on the rising note.
Joyce squirmed slightly and felt the boy's cock swell slightly inside her. "So are you, George ... so are you."
"Am I really? Gosh, thanks, Mrs. Kirkland."
Joyce decided the youngster's enthusiasm was a bit cloying. "Don't say anything," she suggested in a sexy whisper. "Just move in me real slow."
"You mean like this?" George asked. He began to pump his cock in and out of her.
"Oh, yesss," Joyce hissed happily.
Lying in the middle of the hall, she savored the feel of George's cock sliding in and out of the hot sheath of her cunt. His powers of recovery were astonishing, a tribute to youth. Joyce felt him growing rapidly in her, pushing deeper and deeper with every stroke. Her arms under his shoulders, she laid her head on his chest and savored every hot inch of him as he slid in and out. She felt his cum being pumped out to form a pasty coating between them. Her nipples were little bumps against his hard chest. Squirming, Joyce ground her tits against his muscles.
With marvelous youthful vigor, he was driving her upward more quickly now, lifting her closer and closer to her own peak. She could somehow sense that he was nearing another orgasm, and prayed he wouldn't come too soon. He began to pant in time with his pumping.
Joyce let her hips begin to shift and move, to squirm and grind. Bumping her pelvis forward, Joyce ground her clitoris between them, and succeeded in lifting herself still closer to the peak she wanted.
George's moves began to become a little frantic. Joyce eased her own squirming and managed to slow the teen-ager without discouraging him. "We've got lots of time," she told him softly.
"Sorry."
"Just hold me and move real easy," she instructed. She was pleased with the way he responded to her directions.
George resumed his slow, steady pumping, and Joyce thought she was going to die with pleasure. She hadn't felt anything like this in a long time. Youth indeed had its advantages. There was impatience, but there was stamina. There was inexperience, but there was enthusiasm. Joyce soared up and up and up as George pumped and pumped and pumped at her. She began to come, her body convulsing and burning up with pleasure, and George just kept right on pumping and pumping and pumping.
Joyce thought he was going to go on forever. Her own orgasm kept right on going, an endless river of lava pouring through her veins. She was being cremated with pleasure. It was the most eternal climax of her entire life.
It was actually only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Joyce was nearly delirious when she finally felt George approaching his climax. Wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly, she managed to contract her cunt tightly around his cock. Through the roaring flames of her own climax she felt the youth pouring his second load of semen deep into her cunt. Hanging on for dear life, she milked him dry. Then, with a mutual sigh, they both let their muscles sag limp.
"Oh, wow!" George sighed at last.
Joyce rolled off the youngster, feeling his cock slide out of her. "That was very good," she purred, stroking his chest.
"Was it really?"
"Very good," she praised him.
"I've never done anything like that before," he said hesitantly.
"I guess you'll have something to write in your diary tonight, won't you?" Joyce joked.
"Aw, I don't keep a diary," George snorted, taking her seriously.
"No, I guess guys don't."
"But I'll never forget this," George assured her hastily. "Honest I won't."
"I have no doubt about that," Joyce replied confidently.
"I mean, like, you're really something," George said enthusiastically. "You're outta sight."
"Is that good?" Joyce asked innocently, flattered.
"I mean, like you're the most!"
"Thank you, George." Joyce felt very content and confident.
George was resting on one elbow, looking her up and down. "You got a body as good as your daughter's," he said admiringly.
Joyce was thrilled. That was what she wanted to hear, that she could compete successfully with a teen-ager. "Really?"
"Better even," George added. "She's a little skinny."
"She's a little young," Joyce noted charitably. "But then, I guess I'm a little old," she said, fishing.
"Shucks, no," George argued. "You aren't old, Mrs. Kirkland. You're not old at all. You're ... you're mature."
Joyce wasn't sure she liked that word, but let it pass.
"I mean, like you're really stacked," George went on. "But you don't sag at all." He cupped one of her breasts.
"Have you seen so many women naked?" Joyce teased.
"Gosh, no, just in pictures. You're the first one I've seen naked, except for my mom," George reported. "But like the women in the magazines, the ones with big boobs, they're all saggy."
"What about your mother? Is she saggy?"
"Aw, she's fat," George snorted. "She's not like you at all. You're real trim and ... sexy, too."
"So are you. Would you like to take a shower?"
"I guess I could use one, huh?" George asked, embarrassed.
"So could I," Joyce assured him, getting gracefully to her feet. "Let's get the attic closed up and the mattress out of the hall. Then we can wash each other down, okay?"
"Okay!" George bounded enthusiastically to his feet.
A few minutes later they were crowded together in the shower. Joyce decided that maybe the Japanese tradition of community baths wasn't a bad idea at all. She'd shared showers with two different people recently and loved it.
"I wonder what happened to Judy," George said. "It's be kind of embarrassing if she showed up right now."
"I don't think you need to worry about that," Joyce assured him, soaping his chest, heading for his limp cock. She wrapped her soapy fingers around it, relishing its gristly feel and getting it to grow rapidly.
"I've got more important things to think about, huh?"
"You sure do," Joyce agreed. His shaft was already almost as hard as she'd seen it. She was astonished at his recuperative powers. "You could wash my breasts."
"Oh, sure." George hastily took the soap from her.
Joyce tipped her head back and savored the slick, soapy feel of his hands on her soft breasts. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers tell her all about his cock-hot, hard, slick with lather. She felt her breasts swelling from the attention he was giving them. It was marvelous to feel so young and wanted.
"Oh, golly, we're gonna do it again, aren't we?" George asked innocently. "Of course we are."
"Right here?" he squeaked. "Why not?"
"But how?"
"This way," she said, sliding his finger down to her pussy. "First, do this to me." She guided his finger into her cunt, thrilled at the way he bored it deep into her hot, wet channel.
"But I'm gonna ... do it too soon," George announced, worried.
"No, you won't," Joyce assured him, still smearing the slick, soapy lather all over his shaft. "I won't let you." She soaped his balls, fondling them gently.
"Oh, golly," George sighed.
"Don't forget to do me," she reminded him.
"Sorry." He pumped his finger in and out of her cunt.
"Do this, too," she directed, guiding his thumb to the button of her clitoris.
"This?" he asked, grinding his thumb on the sensitive button as if he were squashing a bug.
"Wow, yes," Joyce squealed at the explosive sensation. She was still tickling and petting his cock and balls.
Standing under the steaming spray, they teased each other mercilessly, until Joyce was afraid she was going to die from pleasure. She managed somehow to keep George at an agonizing peak of excitement but without letting him come. The stamina of the youngster was astonishing.
"Geez, I'm starting to hurt," George moaned at last.
"We don't want that, do we?"
"Gosh, no," he agreed.
"I know a sure cure for it," she noted, drawing him closer. "Think you can take my weight?"
"Sure," George answered confidently. "You're light."
She turned him so he could brace his back against the wall. "Here I come." She jumped and managed to wrap her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He slipped along the wall a little, but managed to stay on his feet.
"You'll have to push your cock into me," she grunted, hugging herself close to him.
"Like this?" She felt him reaching under her, then felt the head of his cock poke her.
"A little more toward you," she directed. "That's it."
She let herself slip down on him, and felt his cock slide smoothly up into her. George cupped his hands around her buttocks, and she was amazed at the sensation this caused. She hadn't expected that feeling at all. Closing her eyes, she hung on the youngster, water pounding against her back while she savored the feel of her buttocks being spread apart, and the feeling of his cock in her oozing cunt.
"I can't stay like this forever," George grunted.
"Oops, sorry," Joyce apologized. "Think we can make it this way?"
"I ... think ... so," George grunted.
Joyce somehow managed to lift herself, then let herself back down on his hot shaft. "Oh, wow, you're good."
It didn't take much for her to be soaring up to a marvelous peak again. She squirmed on him, using her arms and the help he gave her from her ass to lift herself. A few short strokes and she was coming in a rush. She tightened her cunt around his cock and felt him pumping his cum into her. They clung together under the hot spray, and savored their wild orgasms.
Then she felt George collapsing under her and hastily unwrapped her legs, taking her weight off him before he slid down to the floor. His cock, sagging rapidly, levered out of her, giving her clitoris a wild whipping as she dropped to her feet. Then she snuggled against him and they held each other up as they fought for breath.
"That was wild," George groaned. "You're too much."
"You're just enough," Joyce answered. "Any more, and I couldn't take you."
"Thanks," George said gratefully.
"Now, let's finish our shower," Joyce suggested. "Before the hot water runs out."
"Yeah. I've gotta be getting home before my mother starts to worry about me."
"Does she worry much about you?" Joyce asked.
"Aw, you know how mothers are," George snorted, rinsing off the soap.
"Yes, I guess I do," Joyce giggled. "I'm one, too, you know."
"Funny, you don't seem like one, but I guess you are," George agreed. "Uh, Mrs. Kirkland?"
"What, George?" Joyce suddenly realized their relationship had shifted back to adult-child.
"Uh, about Judy...."
"I don't think there's any reason she should know about us," Joyce assured him.
"I guess it would be kind of grim if she did," George agreed. "But that's not what I meant. If she left me like she did today, do you think I should depend on her?"
Joyce thought this over, and decided that limited honest was only fair. "If I were you, George, I'd find myself another girl. Judy's very nice, but I think maybe you're ready for a more ... experienced girl."
George's face lit up. "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right. Gee, thanks, Mrs. Kirkland."
"My pleasure," she assured him. Though, after today, Joyce wasn't so sure about Judy's lack of experience. Even so, it seemed the right approach to take.
George stopped by the front door, then turned to Joyce hesitantly. "Could I ... uh ... see you again, Mrs. Kirkland?"
Joyce thought it over. "Maybe. Why don't you call me?"
"Okay. Could you open your robe again? You're so pretty." George blushed.
Joyce was incredibly flattered. She quickly undid the robe and spread it wide. She posed for the youth, who was thrilled as his eyes raked over her.
"Thanks," George sighed. "And maybe I'll call you, if I get the chance before I have to go to camp."
"I'd like that, George."
"See you, Mrs. Kirkland." He bounced down the steps.
Joyce closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She felt reassured, warm, wonderful, and incredibly full of cum. Then she thought of Judy and frowned. What was happening with her daughter anyway? If Judy and Paul and Patty, and Patty's father had stuck together, there wasn't much doubt. In his search for his own youth, Paul didn't seem to be leaving any stone unturned. And evidently Mark was joining in the search.
Joyce analyzed her feelings curiously. Strangely, she felt no qualms about Judy's losing her virginity, or becoming promiscuous. Joyce herself had had a fairly strict upbringing. She'd saved her virginity for her husband on her wedding night, and it hadn't done anything at all to insure her marriage. All it had done was deny her what might have been valuable experience.
Joyce thought about her other child, Jason. Paul seemed to be losing interest in his son, almost as if he regarded the boy as evidence of his age.
Joyce found that thinking about Jason gave her a peculiar feeling of warmth. She wondered if he was still a virgin. She assumed he was, since he was only fourteen. As she wandered back to her sunbath, Joyce pondered one possibility for a few moments, then tried to discard it. She couldn't. She found the idea of taking her son's virginity extremely exciting and interesting. Her cunt felt empty and anxious as she stretched out in the sun.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Mom, what's Dad been doing on Saturdays?" Jason asked.
Joyce froze, her back to her son. Miraculously, she didn't drop the stack of dishes she was holding. Her fingers tightened on them until her knuckles were white. She knew if she'd been facing Jason her pallor would have given her away. What could she tell him? Her mind racing, she fought to keep her voice steady. "What makes you ask that?"
"Must be something pretty important," Jason pointed out. "He hasn't been to one of my ball games in over a month. He always used to come to my ball games." Jason's tone was a little plaintive.
"Has it been that long?" Joyce asked, startled. It couldn't have been over a month! That incredible afternoon, the one with the stranger in the bar, had been only two weeks ago. As she tried to figure it out, she felt her color slowly returning to normal. She went across the kitchen to put the plates away. Then, closing the cupboard, she turned to look at her son.
Jason was sitting at the kitchen table with a huge glass of milk and the cookie jar, leafing slowly through a comic book. "It's been five weeks," he observed, flipping the comic book away. "And Judy, too. She used to come to my games. You never did, but Judy did, and Dad did. Now nobody comes. Doesn't anybody care about me any more?"
Joyce's heart was suddenly flooded with affection for her son. Moving quickly, she sank down on the chair next to his and reached out to touch him. She realized painfully that, in the turmoil, Jason had been forgotten by everyone, including her. "Oh, Jason, of course we do."
"I never even see Judy any more," Jason complained. "I wanted to talk to her about something this afternoon and she just told me I was a baby. Me, a baby."
"Well, you are younger than she is," Joyce observed placatingly.
"But I'm not a baby," Jason insisted. "I wanted to ask her something about girls. How'm I gonna learn anything about girls if I can't ask her?"
"You wanted to know something about ... girls?" Joyce's voice caught.
"Yeah. I don't know nothing...."
"Anything," Joyce corrected automatically.
"I don't know anything about girls," Jason complained. "I wanted her to tell me something about girls."
"Like what?" Joyce asked, feeling as if she were walking slowly into a pool of quicksand.
"Well, like what girls look like, for example," Jason explained. "I don't even know what girls look like."
"You've seen Judy naked," Joyce pointed out.
"Yeah, but not in a long time. And I want to know what boys and girls do together, too. Like when she and that dumb Patty go off together with two guys. I followed them once, but they ran me off. I thought maybe Dad would tell me something, but I never see him, either. He's always off playing tennis or something." Jason reached for another cookie.
Joyce was silent, thinking quickly. One comer of her mind noted idly that the insides of her thighs still hurt from the wild session with the bag boy at the market that afternoon. How she'd succeeded in having him in the parking lot in broad daylight without getting arrested, she'd never know. She knew it was one screwing he'd never forget.
The silence grew longer, forcing her to drag her mind back to the problem at hand. There seemed one quick, simple, all-encompassing solution to Jason's problems, but she wasn't sure she had the guts to take that step. And what if she offered herself to her son, and he rejected her?
"I don't have a game tomorrow," Jason noted. "I thought maybe I could talk to Dad then, but he's got a tennis game or something and said he won't be home all day."
"Did you tell him you didn't have a game?" Joyce asked quickly, a plan suddenly forming in her mind.
"I didn't have a chance to," Jason grumbled.
"He busted right out and told me he couldn't come to my game tomorrow before I even told him I didn't have one. I just wanted to ask him to talk to me about girls, since I don't have a game, but he didn't give me a chance."
"So he thinks you have a game tomorrow," Joyce mused. "And he thinks I'm going to be gone all day, too."
"Are you?" Jason asked, obviously disappointed.
"I was. But I can change my plans easily enough. How would you like to spend tomorrow with me?"
"Doing what?"
"Learning about girls."
"Sure!" Jason answered instantly.
And that was how Joyce ended up crouching in the bushes outside the basement window with Jason. This time she was prepared for what they hoped to see.
"What're we doing here?" Jason asked.
Joyce tried to get a sharp twig out of the back of her neck. "Spying," she observed calmly.
"But you've always told me it was wrong to spy on people," Jason observed with crushing logic.
"It is," Joyce confirmed. "But in a war, countries spy on each other."
"Are we at war?"
"You might say we are. Call it the war of the sexes. Spying's the easiest way I know of to answer your questions, about everything."
"Everything?"
"About girls, and boys and girls, and about your father, and maybe even about Judy," Joyce expanded. It would also confirm or deny her remaining suspicions.
Further conversation was cut off by the sound of a car door slamming. Then, faintly, came the sound of the back door banging shut. Someone called out. Joyce held her breath. Through the half-open window she heard footsteps on the cellar stairs.
"Didn't expect anyone to be home, did you?" Judy asked as she came into view.
"No, but it's always a good idea to check," Paul answered.
Joyce was puzzled. Where were Patty and her father? Maybe they were just behind.
"Mom's off shopping all day, as usual," Judy pointed out. "And my baby brother has one of his dumb baseball games."
Joyce felt Jason stiffen with anger and put a restraining hand on his arm.
"It's just the two of us, Daddy," Judy went on.
Joyce felt as if an icy hand had closed around her heart. It couldn't be! Not her husband and his own daughter!
Judy turned to her father and snuggled up to him. "It's just the two of us," she repeated softly, linking her hands behind his neck and looking up at him. The pose arched her body gracefully, pushing her hips in against his. She drew his head down toward hers and their lips met. His arms went around her and they melted together into a tight, passionate embrace. Paul's strong arms, with their deep tan and thick black hair, looked even darker against the pure white of Judy's tennis outfit.
Joyce thought she was going to die. Seeing her husband with Patty had been a shock, but she'd gotten over that. She'd gotten used to the idea of her husband regularly screwing a high school girl. In retaliation Joyce had probably set some sort of a youth record herself. But this was something else again! This was something she'd never expected in her life. Oh, she'd expected Judy to have lost her virginity to Mark Conklin. But the idea of Paul and Judy having an incestuous affair had never crossed her mind. That she was planning the identical things with Jason didn't occur to her. She could feel Jason's eyes flickering from the tableau in the basement to his mother, and knew she was as pale as a sheet. With an effort of will, Joyce pried her fingers out of their premature graves in the earth.
Paul's embrace of his daughter loosened and his hands fumbled with the back of her dress. He unfastened the hook, then ran the zipper down with exciting slowness.
Joyce inhaled sharply when she saw that Judy wasn't wearing a bra.
Judy stepped away from her father and slipped the dress forward off her shoulders and down her arms, baring herself to the waist.
Joyce heard Jason gulp loudly.
Judy hooked her thumbs in the dress, eased it over her hips and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of it, then gave a kick that sent the white garment scooting across the floor away from her.
Joyce sucked in her breath, thinking disjointedly of the dirt the dress was picking up.
Judy was wearing lacy white bikini panties. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and pressed her nearly nude body tightly against him as they kissed for a second time. Then she let go, backed away, and began to undress him, tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his tennis shorts and stripping it up over his head. He bent over so she could get it down his arms and off.
Judy tossed the shirt aside and casually reached for the waist of his shorts. A moment's work and she was shoving them down his legs, kneeling in front of him.
His groin was now covered only by his athletic supporter. His jockstrap looked ludicrous trying to contain the irresistible force of his mammoth erection.
Still kneeling, Judy helped her father out of his shoes, socks and shorts, then reached for his jockstrap and lifted it out over the head of his cock. She seemed barely to notice the huge shaft as she removed her father's last garment.
Joyce was blinking her eyes in an effort to clear her vision. She didn't know what her tears were for. Judy was so beautiful, so lithe and graceful. And Paul was so powerful and masculine.
With a deceptively easy, graceful move, Judy stripped off her flimsy panties before standing up again. When she did stand, she looked very tender and graceful and vulnerable in front of her father's massive bulk. Paul was more than a foot taller than his daughter, blocky and powerful. His skin was tanned darkly, and was thickly hairy. Judy was small and slender and graceful, her skin a golden hairless tan.
Joyce noticed that her daughter had faint pale areas where her bikini usually shielded her from the sun.
Judy slipped her tiny hand into her father's big one as they went over to the couch. As if they'd rehearsed it, Paul held her hand as she stretched out. Judy extended one arm up the back of the couch, the other down along her side. Gripping the couch with her fingers, she rubbed her thighs sensuously together and licked her lips.
"God, you're beautiful," Paul sighed. "You remind me of your mother when I first met her."
"Did you do this when you first met her?" Judy teased.
"Are you kidding? She was a virgin on our wedding night. I never saw her like this 'til long after we were married."
Joyce's throat knotted. She'd been too ashamed to let him see her like that!
"Play with me, Daddy," Judy requested. "Play with me as if I were a doll just made for you."
Paul sat on the couch next to his daughter and reached for her with his big, hairy hands. He stroked her cheek, then slid his hands down the graceful line of her throat. Judy's eyes glittered with excitement. His hands brushed over her breasts, paused and returned to the shy mounds and their pink tips. Judy's eyes closed as a shiver ran through her. Her father's hands completely covered her small breasts. Her rib cage was heaving visibly.
Joyce felt the fires starting deep inside her own body as she watched. Reaching blindly, Joyce found Jason's arm and locked her fingers around it like a vise. Her eyes were riveted on the bodies on the couch. She heard Jason swallow noisily.
One of Paul's hands slid down along Judy's body from her breasts, then out of sight. Judy's legs sagged slowly apart; then her entire body convulsed. Her knees bent, and one foot slid off the couch to the floor. She sank her fingers deep into the cushion of the couch, then slid them up into her father's lap.
Joyce couldn't see what Judy was doing with her hand, but didn't need to. She could almost feel the hot shaft in her own fingers. She knew that cock so well. It was the cock that had sired her son, and the girl holding it now. Joyce felt her cunt weeping gently from excitement and frustration. She heard her son panting.
Paul shifted and moved, and his cock came into view, a tower of hot gristle. Judy released it as he crawled between her thighs, moving very carefully to keep from crushing her.
Judy was wide-open to him. Her crotch looked fuzzy. Her body looked young and vulnerable under her father's threatening bulk. He was huge. He was going to crush the life out of her! She lifted her pelvis in welcome to him. She was obviously eagerly anticipating his assault on her. He came down on her slowly as she reached between them and guided his cock to her pussy. Joyce could see the huge shaft begin to sink slowly into the hot nest of Judy's cunt. Then Paul's mass cut off the view and he was crushing Judy into the cushions. He was so big he covered her almost like a blanket. Only a thin strip of her flank was visible between his heavy bulk and the cushions. One of her legs stuck out from under his hips, her foot trailing down to the floor. It looked weirdly detached. But it moved. Judy lifted it and wrapped it around her father's powerful, hairy thighs.
Joyce wanted to tear her eyes off the scene and see what Jason's reactions were. Finally managing to flick her gaze from Judy and Paul to Jason, Joyce noted the dilation of his eyes, the film of sweat on his forehead, and the way he licked his lips. Then she couldn't keep her eyes away from the basement any longer.
Paul's ass looked very pale compared to the rest of him. His hips moved rhythmically as he slowly worked his cock into his daughter. Judy wrapped her arms around him. She looked like a bug the way her arms and legs came out from under his body and wrapped around him.
Her face was out of sight, buried in his chest, she was so short.
The muscles of Paul's back rippled and flexed as he pistoned his prick into his daughter. Judy's hands moved restlessly over his back, her fingers poking and prodding as if she were testing the power there. Her body moved under his as she answered his thrusts. She wriggled under him, her hips improving and increasing the screwing with the bumping, grinding moves all women know instinctively.
The only sounds in the basement now were the groaning protests of the couch and the panting of the participants. Judy's was quick, half-voiced, a sharp, breathless whimpering. Paul's was a sharp grunting that echoed every powerful drive of his hips.
Joyce heard a bird singing somewhere nearby, an innocently pure counterpoint to the earthy lust she was seeing.
Paul was jerking his hips now, hammering his cock into his daughter's tender guts like a pile driver. Judy was urging him on, her nails clawing his back, leaving thin red welts. She sank her teeth into his neck as her muscles convulsed, and Paul rammed his shaft home one last time, then held on. His body shook with strain.
Joyce knew he was pouring his load of cum into Judy's cunt, and could almost feel the powerful hot shots of semen in her own pussy. Her initial shock and dismay at the discovery of the relationship between her husband and daughter was totally blotted out by the blazing lust she was witnessing and feeling.
"Wow!" Jason sighed softly.
"Shhh," Joyce cautioned, even more softly, a finger to her lips. She shook her head warningly as he started to speak. She relaxed when he returned his attention to the basement.
Paul slowly withdrew from Judy and stood up. His sagging cock dripped thick juices. Judy reached out, scooped up a glob and carried it to her mouth, her eyes sparkling. Then she held out her hand and let her father help her sit up.
They snuggled together on the couch, arms around each other, legs stretched out in front of them. Paul's feet were a few inches apart, his cock and balls huddled down between his thighs. Judy's legs were crossed so that only a small triangle of her snatch was visible.
"You're wonderful," Judy sighed contentedly.
"You're pretty good yourself."
"As good as Mom?"
"Better," Paul answered.
"Really?"
"She's kind of ... reserved," Paul elaborated. "She always wants to make it in the bedroom, at night, in the dark. And always the same position."
Joyce felt an explosive flash of anger at this. It wasn't true!
"Sounds full," Judy agreed, her head resting on Paul's shoulder.
"She's getting old," Paul added.
Joyce was really infuriated now.
"And you're not?" Judy teased.
"What do you think?" He pinched one of her nipples.
"You're not if you can make it with me again, right now," Judy giggled.
Paul sputtered slightly, and Joyce's mood improved. "I'm not Superman," Paul argued.
"You mean you can't?" Judy was obviously disappointed.
"How come Patty's got such an even tan and you don't?" Paul asked, changing the subject.
"She goes to a nude beach regularly. You won't ever let me go."
"Not alone I won't."
"How about if you took me?" Judy demanded.
"Me? At a place like that?"
"Why not? Not getting old, are you?" Judy asked with ill-concealed triumph. She'd mouse trapped him as neatly as Joyce had ever seen.
"No, I'm not getting old," Paul spat. "Then why don't you take me tomorrow?" Judy urged.
"Tomorrow? But what about your mother?"
"Bring her along."
"Not on your life," Paul snorted. "In the first place, she'd never agree. And in the second place ... well, you know what the second reason is."
"So, let's tell her we've got a special all-day tennis match," Judy suggested. "She'll never know the difference."
Jason wormed his way close enough to Joyce to be able to whisper in her ear. "Mom, that's lying!"
Joyce shushed him sharply but carefully. She was furious. The extent of the deception left her so angry she was seeing red. Her husband and her daughter were both conspiring against her. She wished desperately that she had a gun, a knife, anything. She'd never been so close to murder in her life! It didn't occur to her that what she was really angry about was what Paul had said to Judy about her.
"Come on, Daddy, don't be a chicken," Judy urged.
"All right, we'll do it," Paul said. "We'll even skip church so we can get there nice and early."
"Goody!" Judy cheered. "Now, let's celebrate. I'll bet I can get you ready to go again real fast."
"I'll bet you can," Paul agreed with a chuckle, reaching for her.
"No, let me do it." Judy pushed his hands away and slid off the couch to the floor. She spread his knees, and slid up between his legs, her knees between his feet. She reached for his limp cock and picked up its head. As she stroked it carefully it quickly began to swell in her fingers.
Joyce was shaking with the exhaustion of her anger. Blazing fury had been replaced by icy resolve. Fiendish plots burned through her as she continued to watch. She didn't yet know how she was going to do it, but she knew she would make Paul pay, and pay, and pay. She thought of her husband roasting in the hellfire and brimstone the minister preached, and smiled grimly. That would be too kind. She'd find a way to make sure he received his just reward in this life and let the devil himself worry about the next life.
"Oh, yeah," Paul groaned happily as his cock got harder and harder and harder in Judy's graceful little hands.
"You're too dry," Judy observed matter-of-factly. "Have to do something about that."
"Oh, wow!" Paul gasped. Joyce gulped.
Judy stuffed her mouth down on her father's cock, then jerked her head slowly back. She left his penis gleaming with her spit. Then, before it could dry, she got up from the floor and straddled him. The curvy cheeks of her ass gleamed in the light as she worked her way up to his cock.
His shaft looked titanic. It was aiming straight up into her. Joyce didn't see how Judy could possibly take that entire mass into her.
Judy lowered herself slowly onto the big rod, using her fingers to keep it pointed straight up into her. She nestled its head in her and paused to shift her grip and brace one hand on her father's shoulder. His strong fingers were gripping her slender waist.
She pressed slowly down on the big staff, and Joyce was sure Judy would split wide-open on it. Judy drove herself slowly down on the relentless steel bar, her muscles quivering with the effort. Paul's fingers dug into her where he held her.
Judy paused, and Joyce thought hopefully that maybe her daughter had given up. Judy lifted slightly, and Joyce felt her own muscles relax slightly. Then Judy lowered herself a bit, and Joyce's muscles knotted up again.
Judy slowly pumped farther and farther down on her father's monster organ until, with a soft whimper of pleasure, she had it completely up her cunt hole. Then she paused, snuggling against her father's powerful, muscular hairy chest, his entire cock in her young pussy.
Joyce's breasts felt bruised by the hard ground as she lay peering in the basement window. Her head bumped against Jason's as they watched the licentious display. Joyce smiled wryly. She'd told him his questions would be answered. They had been, with a vengeance.
Judy lifted up slowly. The glistening shaft of her father's cock slid into view as she raised up, higher and higher. Then she lowered herself, pistoning the shaft deep into her cunt again. There was a soft squish, and a wave of juices poured down the powerful staff into Paul's thick, curling black pubic air. His tense grin was absent-mindedly moronic, Joyce thought, mindless.
Judy kept her moves steady, gradually picking up speed. Paul's thighs and legs flexed. He lifted his hips to meet each of Judy's downward strokes. He was using his firm hold on her waist to guide her moves. His powerful, hairy legs looked almost beastly in comparison with the smooth, graceful sweep of Judy's back. She was sitting up very straight as she moved up and down on his prick.
The couch was squeaking and protesting as the speed and violence of Judy's moves increased. She added a forward-and-back motion to her hips, and her moves grew wilder.
Suddenly she lifted a little too high, her hips went a little too far, and Paul's cock popped out of her. Judy whimpered and grabbed for the glistening tower of flesh, stuffing it back into her pussy with panicky haste. She buried it in her with a downward slamming lunge. She leaned forward, her moves becoming less and less coordinated, more and more frantic. She wasn't a modern teen-ager any more; she was a lust-crazed animal primitively gutting herself on the spear of masculinity. She slammed down on Paul one last time and seemed to weld herself to him, her muscles straining. Paul's hips lifted until he was supporting her totally. Her entire weight was concentrated vertically down through a single point of contact, his cock.
Paul held the bridge until his muscles began to shake uncontrollably. Pearly drops of cum oozed down over his balls to drip gummily on the couch. His muscles collapsed, and Judy slumped down on him. With a weird, slow motion, the two of them slid off the couch and onto the hard floor.
Joyce drew a deep, shaky breath and glanced at her son. Jason's eyes, just inches away, met hers, and it was like a new form of magnetism. Their heads drew irresistibly closer until their lips locked together. There was nothing maternal about this kiss. It was loaded with lust and the promise of more lust to come. It went on and on and on, until Joyce's chest hurt and her thigh muscles began to quiver helplessly.
When they broke the kiss to look back into the basement, it was empty. Only a small glistening puddle of cum remained on the floor as evidence that it had all been real. Joyce in the lead, mother and son pushed out through the shrubbery.
Joyce managed to find her voice. "Tomorrow, when they got to the beach," she said, knowing Jason would understand.
Jason looked at her, more serious than she'd ever seen him. He nodded solemnly. They brushed the leaves and twigs off themselves and made their way to the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
Joyce stood at the front door and sighed with relief, then shivered in anticipation. She sighed with relief at the sight of the car, with her husband and daughter in it, disappearing down the street. She shivered in anticipation of Jason, getting a peculiar scratchy feeling between her shoulder blades as if Jason were behind her, staring at her. She resisted the urge to turn around and look, knowing he was upstairs.
She was astonished that somehow she and Jason had managed to handle themselves as if they knew nothing. During dinner last night, and breakfast this morning, she'd been petrified that Jason's restraint would crumble, or that he might accidentally let slip something that would give away their spying. He'd handled himself with a subtlety far beyond his years.
In addition to worrying about what Jason might do, Joyce had had to keep her feelings toward total betrayal under control. She'd managed to behave naturally toward both Paul and Judy despite their treachery.
Now she was waiting for Jason to come down the stairs and remind her of the agreement they'd made the afternoon before. At that time, it had seemed logical and inevitable, the product of their peeping-inspired passions. Today, the idea seemed totally irrational, except when Joyce thought about her husband and daughter; then it seemed fitting. If Paul was replacing her with her daughter she would replace him with his son. It was only logical.
"Hi, Mom," Jason said from behind her, making her jump.
"Hi, Jason," she said, turning. She blanched, the room seeming to spin around her. She steadied herself with one hand on the door. "You're-naked," she said, gulping.
"Sure," Jason agreed, flashing in a nervous grin. "Shouldn't I be?"
Joyce's sense of propriety was offended by his logic, but she didn't let it show. "Yes, of course," she replied, too heartily. "It's just that I wasn't expected it so soon."
"I look good, huh?"
"V ... very," Joyce agreed. Jason was young and trim, brown as a berry except where his bathing suit went. He was young enough that he didn't have any pubic hair yet. His cock was erect, jutting out sharply, pointing straight at her. Joyce felt a shocking surge of excitement at the sight of her son's naked, aroused body. He looked so young, and trim, and clean, and healthy, and-delicious. She felt her insides softening as she contemplated his incredibly innocent sexuality. "You're gorgeous," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
"Shouldn't you get naked?" he asked with youthful directness.
"I ... suppose I should." She glanced at the windows, knowing that anyone could see in. "Let's go downstairs."
She let him lead the way, admiring the straightness of his spine, the easy play of his still-developing muscles under his tan skin. His black hair curled down the back of his neck, making her think of Greek statues she'd seen. There wasn't any baby fat on him. His hips were trim and firm, his shoulders hinting at the broadness that maturity would bring.
In the playroom, Jason turned and faced her expectantly, and Joyce suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. She bit her Up and started to unbutton her blouse. She wished she hadn't bothered to dress that morning, or at least that she hadn't put on so many clothes.
Her fingers felt like sausages as she dealt with the first few buttons, but slowly her dexterity returned. She avoided looking at her son as she peeled the blouse back, dragging its tails out of the waist of her skirt. She flipped her shirt carelessly away and reached for the zipper at the side of her skirt. As she was running it down, she stepped out of her sandals and kicked them away. The floor felt cold under her bare feet.
Letting the skirt drop around her feet, she picked it up with one foot and threw it after her blouse. She was now down to her bra and panties. Both were utilitarian, not at all sexy, she suddenly realized. She felt clunky. Bending over, she reached awkwardly behind her back for the catch on her bra, unfastened it, and let the straps slide down her arms. She felt her breasts hanging free and knew Jason was staring at them. A casual flip of the wrist sent her bra after her other clothes.
She straightened up and closed her eyes, feeling sweat popping out on her forehead. It was ridiculous! She'd been nude in front of Jason before. It was crazy. But when was the last time she'd been nude in front of him? Surely in the last year ... no, longer than that. Longer than she wanted to contemplate. She suddenly realized just how much of a stick-in-the-mud she had become. The realization stiffened her resolve.
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pushed down. She felt more and more of her belly being exposed to his eyes. She felt her pubic hair springing free of the nylon. She felt the lips of her pussy, compressed by the crotch of the panties, loosen as the pressure came off them. She felt her face flame red and bent from her waist, hiding her face as she pushed the panties down her legs, then held them and stepped free. Fighting the blush, she turned away from Jason for a few precious seconds to throw her panties into the corner. There was a big stupid lump in her throat.
She turned to face him, crossing her arm over her breasts, cupping her cunt with her hand like a shy virgin. Then she looked at Jason, and his lack of shame shamed her. She let her arm drop, moved her hand away and stood at attention, her hands at her sides, her fingers fiddling nervously. She sought refuge from her embarrassment by staring at her son.
Jason licked his lips as his eyes flickered here and there over her. She could almost feel his gaze on her skin, first her breasts, then her crotch, then her breasts again. Her belly, her crotch, her face, her crotch. "You're beautiful," he said softly. "Really beautiful." He sounded surprised.
"So are you," Joyce replied, astonished at the tenderness she suddenly felt toward him.
"I'm kinda skinny."
"You're just right," she told him truthfully. "I'm kind of fat."
"You're perfect. Judy's skinny."
"Thank you."
"What do we do now?"
"Why don't you come over here and kiss me?" she suggested gently.
His eyes were riveted on her naked body. Finally he looked at her face. She looked down at him, and couldn't avoid seeing his youthful cock, hard as iron, pointing right into her belly. He wasn't much shorter than her, and it was a shock to realize that in a year he'd be taller than her.
The first touch of his lips was hesitant, shy, almost frightened. Joyce slid her hands around him, feeling the soft smoothness of his skin over his trim frame. She thrilled to the feel of his hands sliding over her smooth skin. She could feel the heat of his body leaping across the scant fraction of an inch separating them. Then her nipples touched his chest and turned into little points of fire that sent tendrils of warmth darting through her. She let her body come slowly against his, feeling her brreasts spread like soft cushions between them. His cock stabbed her low in the belly. She shifted to slide it slowly up between them as their hips mashed together.
His body felt hot against hers: hot, hard and smooth. Their mouths were open now, their tongues exploring, their breaths mingling warmly. His cock was a hard rod pressing into her. She shifted to roll it between them.
Jason was the one that broke the kiss. "Let's get over to the couch."
Joyce let her son guide her over. He did it just the way he'd seen his father escort his sister to the couch. Understanding, Joyce stretched out the way Judy had and smiled at Jason as he sat down even with her hips. Her heart was beating very fast and she could see his pulse throbbing in his throat as he stared down at her.
Jason reached out and stroked her cheek. Joyce closed her eyes, savoring his touch. His hand slid easily down the curve of her throat to one of her breasts, but when he touched it, he jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned. He touched her breast again, hesitantly.
"It's so soft," he whispered.
Joyce was beginning to burn with passion from his youthful explorations. She knew he was totally engrossed in her, and felt incredibly pleased and flattered. It was all so new and exciting for him that it opened new worlds for her, too. Never before had she been so conscious of a touch, of the warmth of someone else's body. Never before had she been so conscious of her own body and her own sexuality. She felt tantalizingly alive.
Jason played with first one breast, then the other. He cupped them in his hand and squeezed, measuring their size and softness. He pushed them gently, shifting them over her ribs. He scrubbed his palm over the nipple, testing its texture. He ran his thumbs over the buds, testing their erectness.
"Did you ... nurse me?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Joyce answered softly.
"Like this?" He bent his head, seeking her nipple with his lips. As he began to suckle on her, she thought she was going to die with pleasure. It wasn't like anything she'd ever felt before in her life.
"Yesss," she hissed as he shifted his attention from one breast to the other. She sank her fingers into the cushion.
"No milk," Jason said, disappointed.
"It's different now," Joyce explained, her voice rusty. "It feels different, too."
"Want me to do it some more?" Jason asked.
"No, not now."
Jason slid his hand down over his mother's stomach, pausing to dip a finger into her navel. Then he slid his hand lower and his fingers combed through her pubic hair. Joyce let her legs fall open, let a foot drop to the floor the way Judy had. One of Jason's fingers slid between the lips of her pussy, and her body writhed in response.
Jason stopped. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," Joyce whispered. "It felt good. Do it some more."
"This?" Jason's finger moved again.
"Yes," Joyce hissed. She slid her hand over to Jason's lap and found his cock. She wrapped her hand around it and was startled by its size. She'd expected it to be smaller. It wasn't as large as Paul, but it was larger than she'd expected, and harder, and hotter. She stroked it lovingly, smearing his juices over it, making a sticky coating.
Jason had his finger buried in her pussy now, and she was drowning it with a flood of juices. His palm cupped her mound, putting warm pressure on her clitoral area.
"You want to ... put it in me?" she asked.
"Yeah," Jason sighed, breathlessly eager.
"Come on," Joyce said softly, spreading her arms in welcome to her son.
There was a moment of awkwardness; then he was settling between her thighs. She reached down and guided his cock into her pussy as he pushed impatiently.
"Slowly," she cautioned.
"Sorry," he apologized, backing away.
Joyce cupped his firm buttocks in her hands and guided him, showing him how to stroke his cock into her gradually, pumping it deeper and deeper with each stroke. His arms were under hers, his fingers gripping her shoulders. He felt surprisingly light as her breasts were mashed between them.
He pumped his way deeper and deeper and deeper into her, and Joyce's excitement grew and grew and grew. He felt so good inside her! There was something about him that was so good and young and wonderful, like nothing she'd ever felt before.
"Jeezus, something's happening," Jason wheezed.
"Let it happen," Joyce said happily. She hadn't expected to come this time. "Just let it happen."
"Jeezus. Oh, Jeezus." Jason began to move faster and faster; then suddenly he was jerking inside her, pumping incredibly copious jets of thick cum into his mother's cunt.
Joyce held onto him, held him tight in her pussy as she milked his sperm out of him. She didn't come, but her pleasure at his coming more than made up for it. She just felt incredibly good about the whole thing, and knew her time would come soon.
It took a long, long time for Jason's climax to fade away. When it did, he just lay there, his cock still in her. "Jeezus," he sighed. "Oh, wow!"
"Like that?" she asked.
"That was super!"
"Easy," Joyce cautioned, holding him so he didn't slip out of her. He was still half-hard. "You okay, Mom?"
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Want to know what happened?"
Jason looked puzzled; then his face cleared. "I ... uh ... came, didn't I?"
"It's also known as an orgasm, or a climax."
"And what we did is screwing, huh?"
"The fancy name for it is 'intercourse'. It's also called several other things. Like 'fucking'," Joyce added, deciding to use the word.
"Oh!" Comprehension dawned on Jason's face; then he frowned. "But you're my mother."
"So?"
"So, doesn't that make me a mother-fucker?" Joyce thought this over. "I guess it does."
"Gosh, that's awful," Jason gasped. "Is it?"
"I thought it was," Jason amended. "It's about the worst thing you can call a guy."
"Maybe that's because of the other guys' mothers," Joyce suggested.
Jason thought this over, then smiled. "Considering some of their mothers, I guess you're right." He moved his hips, sliding his cock deeply into her.
"Oh, my," Joyce sighed. "Do that again."
"This?" Jason slid his cock out, then in again. "Oh, wow!" Joyce gasped. "You're ready to go again."
"Sure, aren't you?"
"Sure," Joyce assured him. "But then, I didn't come the first time."
"You didn't?" Jason seemed disappointed.
"I didn't expect to. I knew it was your first time and that you'd come pretty fast. I'll come now all right, because we can do it longer. It takes women longer to come than it does men."
"Oh." Jason resumed a steady, even pumping, his cock swelling and rapidly regaining its lost bulk. "Am I doing it right?"
"You sure are!" Joyce was floating on a bubbling cloud of pleasure from the feeling of her son's cock sliding along the walls of her cunt. She tickled her fingers over his smooth back as she savored the feeling of his weight on her, his cock in her. She felt as if the years were dropping away from her as she rose higher and higher and higher.
Jason was hardly panting. His superb young body seemed to have endless reserves of stamina, that let him go and go and go and go.
"Oh, Jeez that feels good," he groaned happily. "Jeezus, it feels wonderful! I could keep doing this forever."
"Oh yes," Joyce urged. "Let's just go and go and go forever. If you feel yourself getting close to it, stop, so we can make it last as long as possible." This was something she'd always wanted Paul to do, but had never asked him.
Joyce's pussy was a sheath of fire as Jason's cock slid in and out of it. Joyce felt as if she were burning up. She forced her thighs wider so he could get into her even further. His pace speeded up a bit, and Joyce soared up and up; then it was breaking over her like a wave. She grabbed his ass and held him tight against her while her climax roared and thundered through her. His pubic bone ground against hers, squeezing her clitoris between them. She wriggled her hips to improve the sensation. Her coming faded slowly.
"I came," she told him softly. "Oh, God, did I come!"
"I didn't," Jason whispered tensely. "What about me?"
"Don't worry; you'll come again, and so will I. I can come lots of times to your one or two."
"That's not fair," Jason complained.
Joyce chuckled softly. "Maybe not, but it's the way it is. Now, you'd better start moving again."
"Oh." Jason became aware of his sagging erection and began sliding his cock in and out of his mother again. His cock quickly regained its former stiffness and size, until it filled her cunt again.
Joyce suddenly realized this was a homecoming for her son. He was in the same channel that had given him birth! The thought increased her pleasure immensely. "Oh, go to it," she urged him.
"And how," he agreed, pistoning his shaft in and out of her faster and harder. "It feels so good. Oh, Jeezus, it feels so good I don't believe it."
Joyce was soaring upward to another orgasm, and let this one wash over her without interrupting Jason's pumping. As a result the climax had a pulsating quality, advancing and receding with his strokes until Joyce felt battered and helpless in its wild grasp. She didn't even feel the shaft sliding in and out of her now; all she knew was the fantastic pleasure of her coming, as if she were being dipped in a huge vat of pure feeling, feeling that soaked into her clear to the bone, softening even them into a puddle of helpless lust.
Joyce felt like the pulsing heart of a variable star. But it couldn't last. Her climax began to fade slowly, dying away, leaving her feeling disappointed and empty. Suddenly Jason rammed into her with brutal force and she felt the muscles in his body straining insanely. The shock of his impact with her was enough to send her rocketing back upward, past even her previous peak to a new, unbelievable level of pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and pulled on him as if she were trying to stuff him back inside the birth canal. She felt him pouring his second load of juice into her already streaming pussy.
Jerking and quivering like a fish on the end of a line, Jason spasmed a copious load of cum into his mother, and she accepted it with all the eagerness of a thirsty pilgrim. She was drowning in her son's cum for a long, endless time. And then it was all fading, dying away.
This time she felt full and satisfied and complete. She lay under her son and felt his cock slowly shrinking inside her and didn't mourn its withering. She savored instead the fullness of her cunt and her heart. She felt stuffed with cum. She hadn't felt so full of semen since her honeymoon, she decided.
"Man, oh, man, was that super," Jason sighed, pushing up off of her.
"Right on," Joyce agreed.
"Aw, Mom, that doesn't sound right coming from you," Jason snorted. "I know it." Joyce giggled.
Jason slid down to sit on the floor next to the couch, one warm hand on her thigh. He looked her nude body over curiously. "You're all pink," he pointed out. "But I guess it's going away."
"The flush of a satisfied woman," Joyce purred.
"Was I really good?" Jason asked.
"Really good."
"As good as Dad?"
"Better," Joyce answered without hesitation. "Gee!" Jason seemed flattered. "Better than Dad."
"But that's not all there is to fucking."
"It isn't?"
"Huh-uh." Joyce rolled her head. "There's lots, lots more."
"Like what?"
Joyce was pleased with his willingness to learn. Here was a young, eager, pliable body she could train in the ways of love. "Oh, like petting a woman, the places to touch her, and stuff."
"Show me," Jason said eagerly.
Joyce smiled. His innocence and eagerness banished any shyness she might have felt. "You haven't really looked at me down there," she pointed out.
"Oh." Jason turned his attention to her pussy. "What am I supposed to see?"
Joyce stared dreamily up at the ceiling, a peculiar excitement swarming through her veins. "Can you find where you put your cock into me?"
She felt Jason's fingers on her pussy, spreading her labia open as he inspected her. "Here," he said, touching the opening of her cunt.
"How can you tell?" Joyce managed to ask steadily, in spite of her renewed excitement.
"There's a big opening, and it's full of creamy stuff."
"That's cum," Joyce explained. "Is that what I put in you?" Jason asked. "Most if it's yours; some of it's mine."
"What is it?"
Joyce tried to think of a good way to answer his question. "That's what you put into a girl to make her have a baby."
"Are you going to have a baby now?"
Joyce smiled. "No. I'm taking birth control pills. I don't want a baby just now, thank you."
"Oh." Jason seemed relieved at this.
"But if you fucked a girl and she wasn't careful like I am, she'd get pregnant," Joyce added.
"What about Judy?" Jason asked. "Can she get pregnant?"
"I hope not," Joyce answered. "I don't know."
"What if she does?"
Joyce shook her head. "I don't know. What else do you see down there?" she asked, changing the subject.
"There's a lot of folds of pink skin," Jason announced. "And a little hole just above the big one."
"That's where I ... uh ... pee," Joyce explained.
"And above that there's a sort of bumpy thing," Jason went on. He touched it and Joyce jumped. "That's my clitoris."
"How come you jumped like that?" Jason asked, touching it again.
Joyce waited for her nerves to settle down. "Because it feels very, very good."
"This does?"
"Oh, wow! Yes. Now stop it." Joyce was exhausted, and somehow it felt too good.
"What's your clitoris for?" Jason asked, struggling with the word.
"For feeling good," Joyce explained. "If you want to get a woman excited, you pet here there with your finger, or something."
"What would you use besides your finger?"
"Oh, maybe your tongue?" Joyce's voice shook at the thought.
"My tongue? Really?"
"We'll try it someday," Joyce assured him.
"You mean, we're going to do this again?"
"Why not?"
"What about Dad and Judy?"
"They've got each other."
"This is super," Jason said. "Wait 'til I tell the guys about this!"
Joyce's blood chilled instantly. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said carefully.
"Why not?"
"They might not understand. It's not the kind of thing you talk about. Let's just keep it our special secret."
"I can't tell anyone?" Jason asked, crestfallen.
"Not right now. Maybe someday, but not right now."
"But I'd like the guys to try it, too," Jason pointed out.
"That's very ... generous of you," Joyce gulped. "But wouldn't you be jealous?"
"I don't think so," Jason answered. "I'm not jealous of Dad."
Joyce thought of having her son's friends, and a weird, totally unexpected, wave of excitement ripped through her. The thought of having a teen-age harem of her own made her blood boil. "Maybe we can work something out," she said softly, thoughtfully. "But we'll have to be very careful. Not everyone approves of sex. Especially with your own mother," she added silently.
"But it's such fun," Jason observed.
"Some people don't think so," she explained, remembering how she had felt about sex at one time. "Now let's go take a shower, shall we?"
"Together?"
"Of course, together," she said, managing to sit up in spite of her exhaustion. "Oh, boy."
Joyce tried to seem as fresh as her son as she climbed the stairs after him. She ached, deliciously.
CHAPTER SIX
"Hi, Mom," Jason called cheerfully as he came in the back door.
"Hi, yourself," Joyce replied without turning from the sink. "How was school?"
Jason dropped his books on the table with a thud. "Okay." Coming up behind his mother, he slid his arms around her. One hand cupped one of her breasts; the other arrowed down to press into her crotch. Joyce leaned back against him, warmth surging through her from his touch.
"Where's your sister?" she asked, wanting to head Jason off if Judy was going to be home soon.
"She's got a Pep Club meeting," Jason answered, pressing Joyce's breasts and digging his fingers into her pussy through her clothes.
Joyce was rapidly getting hotter. She could feel her son's cock prodding her through the many layers of material. "Is she likely to be home soon?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"Not for hours," Jason replied, his voice deepening to a husky growl. He began to unbutton her blouse with amazingly knowing motions of his fingers.
Joyce was glad she'd given up wearing a bra as she felt her son's hands dive inside her blouse and slide over her bare skin. He captured one of her bare breasts and tortured it meticulously, sending waves of fire blazing through her.
He had been practicing his technique. While he petted her breasts, his other hand was at work on the fly of her shorts. He got it open easily, spread them wide and pressed his fingers down between her thighs. He scraped the lace of her panties over her excited flesh as she reached blindly back and linked her hands behind his neck, pulling his head forward over her shoulders so that she could press her cheek against his.
"Maybe we should go upstairs," she said softly.
"No way," he replied, still stimulating her. He was rolling one of her nipples in his fingers. He turned his head and nipped the side of her neck. Joyce's knees shook.
"Someone might see," she whispered.
"I know. Exciting, isn't it?"
A new wave of excitement surged through Joyce. The idea that someone might see them in the act increased the wantonness of the entire situation. Joyce closed her eyes and abandoned herself to her passion, feeling the sunlight that was streaming through the kitchen window warm her exposed belly.
Jason wormed his fingers inside her panties, down toward her steaming crotch. Pressing his finger to her slit, he found her clitoris and rolled it against her pubic bone.
Joyce nearly fainted. Releasing Jason's head, she reached down to shove her shorts and panties over the swelling of her hips. She had to get naked, but she couldn't bear the thought of dislodging her son's hands from her erogenous zones. She managed somehow to get her clothes halfway down her thighs without interfering with Jason's caresses. Then, by wriggling her legs, she worked her shorts and panties lower and lower, until they dropped around her ankles. She kicked them away frantically so she could spread her legs wide. She opened her cunt to her son as far as she could while still staying on her feet.
Jason raped his finger up into her cunt and pressed the heel of his hand down on her clitoris, and Joyce felt her juices fountain over his finger. She felt the warm sun on her bare belly and chest and her excitement increased even more. The only thing she had on was her blouse, and that was spread wide-open to give Jason unhindered access to her naked breasts.
"Just think," Jason whispered. "This is the last week of school. Then you and I'll be together every day."
"What about Judy?" Joyce reminded him.
"We'll get her out of the way," Jason answered confidently.
Joyce started to ask how, but her passion boiled up again, making thought of Judy impossible. "Oh, God, that's good. Where do you learn tricks like that?"
"You're a good teacher."
"Oh, do me," Joyce pleaded. She was leaning back against him, her feet spread, back arched, pelvis thrust forward to give him perfect access to her cunt. She groped back behind her and fumbled for his belt. Her fingers felt awkward as she unfastened his pants and spread them open. Then she found his hard cock, inside his underpants, and squeezed it with desperate need. She levered it out through the fly of his underpants so she could touch its hot, smooth surface. It seemed to burn her fingers and felt as hard as a ramrod. Judging by touch alone, it seemed as big as a rolling pin.
Jason let her play with him for a few tantalizing moments, then took his hands away from her crotch and her breasts. He pushed her upright and turned her around to face him, forcing her to let go of his cock. With a mature force far beyond his years he backed her around the kitchen, and up to the table until her buttocks bumped against it.
"We'll do it right here," he told her.
"Oh, God, yes," Joyce agreed, reaching for his underpants. She pushed them down and used the opportunity to marvel again at his wonderful cock. It had been only yesterday that she'd had it for the first time, but it seemed as if she'd been without it forever.
Jason moved closer, put his hands on his mother's shoulders, and pushed her down on the table.
Joyce let herself lie backward, the muscles in her stomach tightening as she did so. The table was cold under her back and buttocks except where her blouse was. She spread herself on the table like some sort of sacrifice, her arms flung wide, her knees spread to straddle her son where he stood in front of her. She looked up at him.
His eyes were fastened on her crotch. He leaned forward a little as he moved closer to her, aiming his cock into her bush. The table was just the right height for him. He didn't have to bend his knees or rise up on his toes, but could drill his cock right into her cunt as he leaned forward.
Joyce felt the head of his cock touch the gates to her cunt, and groaned with pleasure.
"I can see it go into you," Jason said softly.
"Oh, God, yes," Joyce whimpered. "Watch it go into me."
Jason pushed forward a little more, and Joyce felt her cunt being slowly w-edged open. She spread her legs farther open to give him better access.
"It's going in."
Joyce tried to visualize what he was seeing, tried to picture his strong young cock disappearing into her, and failed. She wished desperately that she could see, but there just wasn't any way. She almost wept for lack of a mirror. Then Jason pushed deeper, and pleasure wiped out her disappointment. She felt him penetrating deeper and deeper into her ready cunt, and held herself ready for the feel of his body pressing against hers, for the touch of the tip of his cock at the end of her vagina. He drove deeper and deeper, his cock hugged by the walls of her cunt. Spreading her arms, Joyce grabbed the edges of the table and held on for dear life as lust ripped through her.
Jason pumped deeper and deeper and deeper until, at last, he was entirely in her. Joyce tightened the walls of her vagina around the hot length of his cock, thrilling to the marvelous feeling of fullness it gave her. Jason felt absolutely magnificent in her. Her son was a big man in the way that it counted.
Jason paused and Joyce glanced up at him. He was staring down at where their bodies intersected at right angles. Joyce was on her back, Jason standing erect. They were doweled together by his cock in her socket.
Jason rose on his toes, without drawing back, and Joyce felt his cock lever inside her. The sensation was unbelievable. Jason dropped back down, and Joyce sighed with combined relief and disappointment.
Jason bent his knees and his cock levered in the opposite direction. Joyce cried out from the shock that ripped through her.
Jason twisted from side to side, and tears came to her eyes at the feeling of his cock grinding around inside her like some wild paddle stirring up her guts. She'd never felt anything like it before in her life. Jason's youthful willingness to experiment was opening up wild new worlds for her.
Jason drew his cock out of Joyce, then slid it back in, slowly. She knew he was fascinated by the sight of his organ disappearing into her pussy. Joyce wished desperately that she could see, too.
Jason slid his cock in and out of her with agonizing deliberateness. She reached down with one hand and found her clitoris. She manipulated it with her fingers while Jason watched. She didn't care if he watched her stimulating herself while he slid his cock in and out of her. She just wanted to feel better and better and better.
Jason seemed ready to go on slowly screwing her for the rest of the afternoon and right on into the evening. He added a new dimension to his moves by lifting up on his toes, or dropping down, bending his knees while he screwed her. This changed his cock's angle of attack until Joyce thought it was going to spear right through the walls of her cunt. It felt absolutely wonderful. He angled into her from side to side and top to bottom and Joyce roared still higher. She was astonished that he still hadn't come.
Jason leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of her as she lay on the table. He was still staring down to where his cock disappeared into her. His hips began to move faster and harder and his body began to smash against her harder, lifting her closer and closer to her peak.
Joyce tightened the walls of her cunt around his cock and felt it respond, felt it swell a little bit more. She knew he was getting close to his own orgasm and did everything she could to get him to it. She was soaring up to her own coming, though, which made it hard for her to concentrate on his. As her orgasm burst over her, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the explosion of pleasure that burned through her like wildfire.
She was beginning to come back from her orgasm when she felt her son tense up. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him as he loomed over her. His eyes were closed, his face sweating as he pumped and pumped at her. He jammed at her faster and faster and she felt the kitchen table swaying under her from the impact. He shoved into her hard, and Joyce hung on while he poured shot after shot of cum into her cunt, pumping her full of semen. Joyce felt some of his cum ooze out past the bulk of his cock and a secondary climax rocked her like the aftershock of an earthquake.
Joyce knew he was about to pull out of her. She reached out and trapped him, grabbing his waist and holding on, keeping his cock buried in her pussy. "Not yet," she gulped. "Just stay in me for a while."
"Aren't you done yet? I saw you turn all pink. I was sure you were done."
"I came," she assured him. "But it takes me a little longer to come down than it does you. Besides, what's the rush?"
"I'm hungry," Jason complained.
"Oh, Lord," Joyce groaned, half-humorously. "The appetites of a teen-ager are never slaked."
Jason backed out of her as she let go of him. "What does that mean?"
"It means that you're always hungry," Joyce said, getting up off the table. "Now, put your pants on before you start stuffing your face. And don't eat so much you'll spoil your supper."
Jason was already halfway through a cupcake. Cramming the last of it in, he retrieved his pants and pulled them up over his dripping cock. "Mom, you're a good fuck," he mumbled.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Joyce corrected as she fastened her shorts. "And on what basis are you making the comparison?"
"What do you mean?"
Joyce shrugged. "How do you know I'm good? You haven't had anyone else, have you?"
"Not yet," Jason admitted. "But I like you."
"I know," Joyce said, smiling. "I was teasing." But the thought of her son having anyone else bothered Joyce. She wanted to keep him all to herself. "There isn't anyone else, is there?" she asked fearfully.
"Naw," Jason admitted. "All the girls I know are too young and too dumb. You even try to kiss them and they run away screaming. They're real chicken."
"But you're not any more, are you?"
"Chicken of what?" Jason asked.
"Of sex," Joyce elaborated, for once ignoring his atrocious grammar.
"'Course not," Jason replied, swaggering. "I'm a man now. Aren't I?"
"Well," Joyce temporized. "You're getting there rapidly."
"Am I a good fuck, Mom?"
"You're a very good fuck," she answered truthfully.
"And you know, don't you? You've had other guys, haven't you? Not just Dad, I mean?"
"I've had a few," Joyce acknowledged.
"You know what, Mom? I'd like to see you fuck a guy sometime."
"You would? Why?"
Jason shrugged. "I can't really see what's happening when I do it myself. I'd like to see what it looks like."
"Oh." Joyce had to admit to herself that she found the idea intriguing. "Well, maybe someday." She hadn't forgotten his comment about bringing one of his friends home, but somehow she hadn't thought in terms of having Jason watch while his buddy made love to her.
"Mom, would you come to the game on Saturday?"
The question caught Joyce off guard. Normally, she would've dismissed the idea immediately. She had no interest in baseball, and never had. But she was struck by the thought that most of Jason's friends played ball. It would give her a chance to look them over.
"Why, I guess so," she answered slowly.
"I know you don't like baseball," Jason observed diplomatically. "But there's no reason to even try to talk to Dad any more. And I'd like to have someone there rooting for me. The guys keep asking me where my family is. It's getting kind of embarrassing."
"I imagine it is. Okay, I'll be happy to uphold the family honor."
"Thanks, Mom." Jason roared out of the room.
The next Saturday found Joyce perched on a hard wooden bench peering down at a dusty baseball diamond, trying to puzzle out the game. In self-defense she'd gone to the encyclopedia and read up on baseball. In her head she carried the picture of a ball park, little white tags marking the various positions on the field. She understood the object of the game, but the procedure seemed intolerably slow and dull.
The opposing team started the game at bat. Joyce watched curiously. Three outs in a row. Then Jason's team was up and he was sitting on the bench, waiting for his turn at bat. Joyce saw him poke the boy next to him and whisper something. The boy turned around and looked up at her. Then Jason jabbed the boy on his other side, and the same thing happened. Joyce sat up as straight as possible, trying to give as favorable an impression as she could.
There was a ripple of faces turning toward her as the word was passed from boy to boy down the bench. Joyce couldn't tell as much about the boys as she would have liked since they were all wearing baggy baseball uniforms. She studied their faces with interest.
As the game went on, Joyce found herself taking more interest as her understanding grew. Jason's team fell behind in the second inning, then managed to hold their ground. Jason didn't come up to bat until the second inning, and Joyce bit her nails nervously. Jason himself was obviously unsettled by his mother's presence and fanned futilely at three bad pitches. He started back to the bench, dragging the bat, head hanging. He looked up at Joyce and she smiled encouragingly. Then, on impulse, she sat up very straight and smoothed her blouse down over her breasts with a sensuous motion. Jason's face brightened and he grinned up at her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Joyce caught sight of one of the other boys eyeing her. His gaze on her, filled with obvious interest, made her hold her pose a few seconds longer.
When Jason got back to the bench, she saw him whispering with another boy, and her ears burned. She couldn't help wondering what they were talking about. They kept glancing up at her.
The game dragged on. Neither team scored. There was no appreciable action, and Joyce found herself dozing in the warm sun. She shook herself and tried to take an interest in what was going on on the field. Jason was watching her. She tried very hard to look interested. Then she gave up and posed for him again, enjoying the semisecretive long-range flirting. There was an element of excitement in hinting at the incestuous affair they were having where other people might detect it. Joyce felt pleasant prickles of excitement deep inside her.
Jason came up again in the fourth inning, and this time he seemed less nervous. He pounded the plate, crouched and waited for the first pitch with an expression of grim determination. He let it whistle past him. A ball. Joyce shouted encouragement.
The second pitch went past him for a strike and Joyce groaned. He hadn't even moved the bat.
Jason started to swing at the third pitch, but didn't. The fourth pitch he swung at and missed, and Joyce was sure he was doomed.
Jason settled his feet firmly, waiting for the pitcher to finish fiddling. The ball came whipping in from the mound, and Jason swung.
The sound of the bat connecting solidly with the ball sent a shock through Joyce and she leaped to her feet as Jason took off for first. His feet flew, kicking up spurts of dust.
The ball made a wide parabola and dropped cleanly into the mitt of the center fielder.
Joyce sighed and sank back down. Jason looked up at her and shrugged as he made his way to the bench.
Joyce reached up and unbuttoned one button of her blouse, trying to make it look as if she were doing it because of the heat. Jason's eyes flickered to the strip of skin displayed between her breasts, and licked his lips.
One of the other boys on Jason's team looked up at her and smiled.
Joyce felt excitement burst to life in her crotch.
And the game went on.
By the second half of the ninth inning, Joyce had just about given up hope. There hadn't been a run scored by either team since the second inning, though both had managed to get men on base from time to time. The sun was hot, and Joyce felt her face tanning slowly. She was in the last row of the bleachers, leaning back against the railing, her arms stretched along the bar. Her feet were extended straight in front of her, so she was almost lying on her back.
The first boy up on Jason's team went down swinging. Joyce sighed. Jason probably wouldn't even make it up this inning. He was sitting on the bench, his back to her. From the slump of his shoulders, she knew how discouraged he was.
The second batter rapped out a sharp grounder that skipped between first and second, and Joyce's mood improved as he arrived safely at first.
The third batter pounded the plate in a display of ferocity. He was walked, putting men on first and second. Joyce's hopes increased. If they both got home Jason's team would only be one run behind.
The fourth batter of the inning fanned the air futilely three times, and Joyce groaned, her hips sinking agin. One more out and it would all be over.
The fifth batter came up, and Joyce screamed encouragement to him. If he made it to base, Jason would be up. The batter swung easily, then crouched as if he were ready to pounce. Joyce began chewing on her knuckles nervously.
The pitch came and the boy rapped it sharply out toward left field. It skipped across the grass as he sprinted for first. The runner on second rounded third in a rush and headed for him. The left fielder scooped up the ball and hurled it after him. Runner and ball arrived at home simultaneously in a cloud of dust. When the dust settled, the umpire's arms were spread low. The run counted! Jason's team was still alive, with men on first and third. The crowd went wild.
Jason came up to the plate, nervously waggling two bats. Turning away, he tossed one toward the bench, then stepped into the batter's box. He darted a quick nervous glance at Joyce. She nodded encouragingly. The tying runs were on base, Jason could provide the winning margin. Joyce scratched her throat nervously, then ran her fingers inside the collar of her blouse.
Jason let the first pitch go by. A ball.
The second pitch was a ball, too, and Joyce sighed. She hoped he wouldn't just walk.
Jason swung at the third pitch and missed. Joyce got scared. If Jason struck out now they'd lose the game, and he'd blame himself. He stepped back out of the batter's box and scuffled his feet. Then he looked up at her. Joyce tried to put a special message of encouragement in her eyes; then, deciding that wasn't enough, she slid her hand slowly and sexily to the next button on her blouse and released it. She felt her blouse spread open to display more of her chest. Jason's face lit up; then he tore his eyes off her and stepped back into the batter's box.
The fourth pitch came at him, so high and outside the catcher had trouble handling it. Jason looked up at Joyce and grinned nervously. She reached for the next button on her blouse and eased it open. One button left.
Jason braced himself for the next pitch. It came at him and he swung. There was a sharp crack and Joyce's heart stopped beating. Then she relaxed as the ball sailed back in a towering lazy foul ball that dropped out of play behind the bleachers.
Jason watched the ball grimly, then stepped out of the batter's box and looked at his mother again. Joyce reached down and unfastened the last button of her blouse. Jason licked his lips. The only thing keeping the blouse over Joyce's breasts was the tails which were tucked into her shorts. Joyce could see ony her son now. She didn't know if anyone else on the field or in the stands was looking at her, and she didn't care. She slid her hand inside her blouse and fondled one of her breasts sensuously, then licked her lips hungrily.
Jason took a deep breath.
Joyce let her legs spread slowly in obvious invitation, bracing her feet on the seat in front of her. She could feel the warm sun and soft breeze on her skin where her blouse was open, displaying most of the inner curve of her breast. Her nipples were hard, and without looking she knew they made prominent little bumps under her blouse. She spread her arms along the railing of the bleachers again to give Jason a totally unhindered view of her.
Jason's smile flashed white in his tan face, an animal grin of knowledge and eagerness. He stepped back into the batter's box and faced the pitcher.
The pitch came in like a streak. Joyce knew what was going to happen even as Jason's muscles rippled under his uniform. The bat came around in a blurring arc and the sound of it meeting the ball jolted through Joyce. Jason let the bat drop as he headed for first base, not even hurrying. The left fielder dropped back and back and back, then turned and watched the ball sail far beyond the low fence marking the limits of the field.
Jason rounded the bases with an easy, confident grace. The stands went wild. Joyce sat in the midst of the turmoil, outwardly calm, her insides coiling with excitement. The bleachers began to empty around her and she got slowly to her feet. As she stepped gracefully from bench to bench, she refastened her blouse. Her crotch felt warm and wet with excitement. She was dimly aware of the eyes of some of Jason's teammates on her as she made her way straight toward him.
"Hi, Mom! How'd you like it?" he asked proudly.
"You were wonderful," she said honestly. "Thanks."
"Would you like to go and collect now?" she asked, knowing he would understand.
Jason licked his lips and took her arm in an unusual public display of affection. "The sooner the better. I hope nobody's home."
"So do I," Joyce admitted fervently.
She tortured herself by maintaining a safe, easy speed as she drove home. She was burning with desire for her son, and knew he felt the same way. She felt her anticipation building until it was hard to breathe. Jason was sitting close beside her, trying to look nonchalant, fiddling nervously with his baseball glove. At the traffic light Joyce took one hand off of the steering wheel and stroked his thigh sensuously, ignoring the curious look of the driver of the car next to them.
They maintained the same tense closeness all the way into the house from the car. Joyce held a finger to her lips as they made their way to the basement stairs and listened carefully. Paul's car wasn't in the drive, and there was reassuring silence.
Once in the playroom, they didn't even look at each other. Jason dropped his mitt and began to undress, as Joyce fumbled with her own clothes. In a few seconds they were both naked, their eyes raking hungrily over each other.
Joyce never ceased to be amazed at the beauty of her son's body. And her own fiery reaction to it continually astonished her. No one else had ever appealed to her as much. He was so clean, and graceful, and young.
Jason licked his lips as he looked at her. Joyce stood straight and proud, and let her legs part slightly. He started toward her, slowly at first, then quickly. She went to meet him. Their bare bodies slapped together in a lust-filled clap as they wrapped their arms around each other. In a wild, passionate embrace, they sank to the floor. Joyce fell backward, guiding Jason between her spread thighs. She felt the cold hardness of the floor against her back, the warm smoothness of her son's body on top of her.
Then the hot shaft of his cock was sliding into her ready channel, driving all other sensations out of her mind. She accepted him, welcomed him, thrilled to him as he bored his cock into her cunt. She wrapped herself around him, hugging him tightly to her. He smelled to sweat and dust from the ball game, and the skin of his shoulder tasted salty where she was nibbling on it.
The screwing he gave her was slow, unhurried and skillful. Joyce strove to make it as good for him as it was for her, tightening her pussy around his cock, keeping her hands moving, constantly caressing him. As he worked his cock in and out of her, Jason squirmed her body against her, torturing her breasts with his weight. He writhed against her like a snake, all the while pumping his cock in and out of her with skillful driving thrusts of his hips.
Joyce soared up and up and up, until she knew her orgasm was inevitable. She prayed Jason would come, too, as she roared up to her flashing, glittering peak. And she was rewarded when she felt him tense and pour his load of cum deep into her cunt.
Clinging tightly together, they came and came and came, simultaneously, gloriously. Jason's climax kept Joyce's going, and she knew the knotting of her own body was intensifying Jason's coming. It was a long, wonderful time before it faded, leaving them both panting and content.
"I think you just hit another home run," Joyce sighed.
"A grand slam," Jason agreed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
They were still panting slightly when Joyce stiffened.
"What's the matter?" Jason asked.
"Did you hear something?"
They both held their breath. Then, unmistakably, they heard Judy's giggle from somewhere outside. Car doors slammed, and someone laughed.
"They're home," Joyce gasped.
"What'll we do?"
Joyce was already scrambling for her clothes. "Let's just hope they don't come down here first."
"We're outta luck anyway. No escape route."
Joyce looked around frantically. "Quick, in here."
They scrambled for the safety of the laundry room. Joyce was about to close the door when she spotted one of Jason's socks in the middle of the playroom. Deciding the risk was worth it, she darted out and grabbed it. She bolted back to the laundry room and pulled the door closed just as she heard Judy's voice at the top of the stairs. With a wheezing sigh, she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath.
"Funny," Paul commented as he came down the stairs. "Joyce's car's in the drive. I would have sworn she was home."
"Maybe she and Jason went off somewhere," Judy suggested.
"I hope so," Mark Conklin said, making Joyce stiffen in surprise. She waited to her Patty Conklin's voice.
"Well, no one's home," Paul said. "Who wants a beer?"
"I could use one," Mark answered.
"Not for me," Judy said. "I don't need one."
"It's too bad Patty couldn't make it," Paul commented, getting two beers out of the refrigerator.
"I don't know," Judy said. "It just means that much more fun for me."
Joyce stiffened as if she'd been hit with an electric shock. She peered anxiously through the crack of the door. Mark Conklin was leaning casually against the small built-in bar, a can of beer in one hand. Paul was behind the bar, popping the top on a second can. Judy was in the middle of the room. As Joyce watched, her daughter strolled over to the record player and turned it on. Then she turned toward the two men.
"This way," Judy went on. "I have both of you to myself."
"What's going on, Mom?" Jason whispered.
Joyce jumped. As music came pounding out of the record player, she shifted so her son could see, too. She felt the heat of his naked body against hers.
"What happens if Joyce comes home, or Jason?" Paul asked.
Judy shrugged. "We can always hide in the laundry room. And besides, if it's Jason, we can cut him in on a piece of the action."
"Paul, your daughter's got a quick mind, and a great way of expressing herself," Mark Conklin commented between swallows of beer.
"Chip off the old block," Paul chuckled.
"Not shaped like this, I'm not," Judy commented huskly, trying to be sexy, and being very successful at it. She smoothed her tennis dress down over her slender body. Then, swaying in time to the music, she reached behind her back and unhooked her dress.
"Maybe you should've said Chippie, Paul," Mark suggested.
"Well, I'm hot a hippie anyway," Judy said, running the zipper of her dress down. She let it fall off her shoulders and down her arms, baring herself to her waist in front of the two men.
Joyce gulped. She didn't understand how such a simple maneuver could possibly be as sexy as Judy made it. Glancing sideways at Jason, Joyce saw the film of sweat on his face, and the stiffening member between his legs. His eyes were riveted on Judy.
Judy pushed the dress down her gracefully muscled legs and stood in her panties. Sliding her hands up her torso, she cupped her breasts.
Mark and Paul both licked their lips hungrily at the sight of the nearly nude teen-age girl fondling her tender, immature breasts.
Judy stroked her hands downward in a gracefully sexy move, hooked her thumbs in her panties and pushed them slowly down, baring herself completely to her father and his friend. She shoved the flimsy lace down her legs and off, picked the panties up daintily and waved them like a flag at the men. With a flick of her wrist she tossed them onto the bar.
"You two are overdressed," she told them softly. "First one to get naked can have me." She strolled slowly over to the couch and lay down on it, spreading her legs in wanton invitation.
"Wow," Jason wheezed softly in Joyce's ear.
"Sshhh," she cautioned softly, but not because she was afraid he'd be heard. The music was loud enough to prevent that. But Jason's comments were a distraction she didn't want.
Paul and Mark stripped frantically. It looked as if it were going to be a dead heat. Then Paul won, stepping out from behind the bar totally naked while Mark was still trying to untangle his feet from his jockstrap. Paul advanced on his daughter, his powerful cock leading the way like a blunt lance.
Joyce reached out and found Jason's cock. She wrapped her fingers around her son's penis while she fastened her eyes on her husband's prick.
"Take me hard," Judy ordered, hungrily watching her father approach.
Paul settled between her thighs, and, taking her at her word, with no preliminaries, rammed his cock into her pussy so brutally she cried out. She sank her fingernails into his back and urged him on. His hips pushed and Judy yelled happily at the agony of his cock tearing into her unready pussy.
It was a brutal, animal union, Paul ramming at his daughter mercilessly, Judy urging him on with her nails and her teeth. Paul's blocky, hairy, tanned body mashed Judy's slender one into the couch. His muscles worked and strained as he pounded his prick into her guts. He was relentlessly brutal, and Judy absorbed the brutality greedily. Her eyes closed, her face twisted with passion, Judy's body convulsed with her orgasm.
Joyce felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and felt her own lust roaring through her as she watched Judy's ravaging. She'd never been taken like that in her life, and knew she'd like it if she ever were. Joyce's vicarious passion roared in her ears like thunder while she watched her husband rape his daughter.
It didn't take long for Paul to come. He poured his semen into Judy with brutal jerks of his hips. He held on for a few muscle-straining moments, then sagged limp. Mark Conklin was ready, standing over the pair on the couch, his cock hard and dripping. He reached down and hauled Paul off Judy.
Paul didn't resist.
Mark took his place. Judy wailed as he took her with no warning, ramming his huge cock into her streaming cunt. The union was as much rape as the previous one had been, and Judy welcomed it even more eagerly. Her hips surged upward to meet Mark's; her fingers clawed at his back. It was quick, hard and brutal.
Joyce could sense Judy's orgasm, could feel her own muscles tightening in delicious agony. Joyce discovered she was squeezing Jason's cock almost too hard. As Mark Conklin came, pouring his semen into Judy, Joyce hauled Jason away from the door. Falling on her back on the hard concrete in front of the washer and dryer, Joyce guided his cock to her pussy and jammed it in. She was so ready for the hot bulk that rammed into her, she came instantaneously. Jason was as wild as she was, and pounded his cock into her harder than he ever had before. His body bruised hers against the floor as he rammed his shaft into her again and again and again. The impact of his body jolted Joyce's teeth until she was afraid she was going to bite her tongue.
Jason rammed into her and came like a geyser, pouring wave after wave of semen into his mother. Joyce felt the hot fluid hosing her cunt, and her own orgasm soared still higher. The room whirled around her dizzily.
Jason finally slumped on top of her, and Joyce fought to breathe and to steady the whirling world. She heard vague sounds over the music from the playroom, and urged Jason off her. She wanted to see what Judy was going to do next. What had happened already was more than she'd ever believed her capable of. There just didn't seem to be any limit to what Judy might do.
Joyce dragged herself to the door, her muscles aching, and peered out.
Paul was at his daughter again, exhibiting recuperative powers he'd never demonstrated with Joyce. This time it was slower and more gentle. Lying between Judy's slender thighs, he moved slowly and easily, pistoning his big cock smoothly in and out of her cum-filled pussy. They were still on the couch, but the angle had changed so that Joyce could see Paul's cock sliding in and out. Paul's muscles flexed easily as he slowly and thoroughly fucked his daughter.
Joyce felt Jason behind her, and moved to give him a view of the playroom. As he moved up next to her, he wrapped his arms around her warmly and fondled one of her breasts tenderly. The almost absent-minded affection of the act made Joyce feel strangely warm.
Mark Conklin was sitting on the floor next to the couch, panting slightly as he regained his strength. He watched Paul and Judy closely as the fucking went on and on. Judy sensed his eyes on her and smiled at him, obviously enjoying his attention just as much as she was enjoying her father screwing her.
Joyce felt Jason's hand leave her breasts and move down her body. As it drew near her dripping pussy, she spread her thighs so he could slide his fingers into her cunt. She was fondling his cock again, feeling it slowly harden in her grasp.
Judy reached out for Mark's limp cock and wrapped her fingers around its sticky length while she took her father's prick in her cunt. While Paul screwed her, she began to pet and pump Mark's organ, bringing it slowly back to life. Turning her head, she sought Mark's lips and they kissed lustily. Mark slid a hand over to pet and stroke her breasts. She was obviously enjoying the joint attentions of the two men.
Joyce felt a little deprived with just Jason's fingers pumping in her pussy.
Paul seemed oblivious to what was going on between Judy and Mark. He kept up his steady, rhythmic screwing of Judy, his hands cupping her buttocks and lifting them to give his prick the best angle of attack. He looked as if he were prepared to fuck forever.
Mark broke the kiss with Judy and whispered something to her. Judy's eyes flashed with excitement and she nodded, grinning tensely. Mark turned, got to his knees, and moved closer to the couch. The position brought his cock even with Judy's head. She turned her face toward him as he moved in on her, and licked her lips nervously.
Mark lifted the head of his prick and aimed it at Judy's face. She gulped visibly. Holding the back of her head with one hand, he pushed his prick against Judy's closed lips. At first she resisted, then let her lips open. Letting his phallus power her lips apart, she gradually took the hot mass into her mouth. Her eyes were closed and her forehead filmed with sweat.
Joyce's stomach knotted up at the sight of her daughter taking the man's cum-smeared shaft into her mouth. At the same time, Joyce's mouth began watering with excitement.
Paul was still screwing Judy, hardly varying his rhythm at all. His hands were still under her buttocks. He turned his head and saw Mark's cock in Judy's mouth and growled softly. Judy whimpered and pumped her head on Mark's cock, her cheeks caving in as she sucked on the hard shaft.
Mark was pumping his hips slowly, driving his cock deeper and deeper into Judy's mouth. His hand on the back of her head kept her from pulling away as he stroked his prick farther and farther out of sight.
Keeping his gaze fastened on the blowjob his daughter was giving, Paul continued to steadily fuck her. As Mark's cock got further and further into Judy's mouth, and his hips moved faster and faster, Paul picked up his pace. His hands kneaded Judy's ass, his fingers out of sight in the crack between her buttocks. Judy began to jerk and shudder as if she were coming, her muscles writhing under her father's weight.
And she kept sucking and sucking on Mark's cock, her spit making it gleam wetly. Her eyes were closed, her face streaming with sweat as she sucked at the hard mass. Even over the music, Joyce could hear the sucking and slurping as the two cocks moved in and out of her daughter.
Joyce's own mouth ached in sympathy, while her pussy burned with desire. Jason's fingers in her weren't a great deal of help. Joyce was pumping Jason's half-hard cock, her fingers sticky with drying cum.
Mark's hips were moving faster and faster now as he pistoned his cock in and out of Judy's mouth. He was slamming his hard organ as far into her as he could. Tears were streaking her face, and she winced every time Mark rammed his cock into her mouth, but she didn't try to escape.
Paul's hips were moving faster and harder as he, too, slammed his shaft home in Judy's body. He was staring intently at Mark's cock in Judy's mouth, almost as if he were willing it to come.
Judy's body was jerking and writhing insanely. The cords of muscle in her throat stood out, and her legs jumped and quivered mindlessly on either side of Paul's.
Joyce saw Mark's balls tense up under the base of his cock, and gulped. Mentally she urged Judy to pull away, to spit out the glistening shaft in her mouth, but it didn't do any good. Judy was letting Mark's hands guide her head and followed his lead when he slammed his cock into her, hauling her head forward to meet the drive. Judy's mouth and throat worked convulsively, and Joyce knew Mark was pouring his cum into her.
Paul knew what was happening, too, and rammed his cock deep into Judy's cunt as he came, pouring cum into her young cunt.
Judy's entire body knotted from the insane orgasm as she absorbed the shots of cum from the two full-grown men in her. Her mouth and throat working, she gulped down Mark's hot semen while Paul's poured into her pussy. She couldn't handle the entire amount either of them was delivering, and gleaming silvery streams of semen oozed from her lips and her pussy.
The tangled, wanton knot of naked bodies held frozen for a long, tense moment until the last quivers of the multiple orgasm had died away. Then Mark sat back on his haunches, dragging his rapidly sagging cock out of Judy's mouth. Paul pulled his hands out from under Judy's ass, and she shook visibly. With her father still on top of her, Judy drew a deep, shuddering breath, and licked the cum and spit off her lips, and swallowed noisily.
"Jeezus," Jason sighed softly. "That was really something."
Joyce drew back from the door and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of herself. She was so shaken she didn't dare try to stand, so just leaned limply against the washing machine. The cold metal felt good against her cheek. Finally she roused herself enough to speak. "What's happening?" she asked softly.
"Nothing," Jason replied, disappointed. "I think they're done."
"They should be."
"They're getting dressed."
"I think we'd better do the same thing," Joyce said, handing him his baseball uniform. She hoped Jason wouldn't ask her any questions about what had gone on. She didn't know how she would answer them.
"See how much fun two guys can be?" Jason commented.
"If you can take it," she replied cautiously.
"You could take it," Jason told her. "I know you could."
Joyce wasn't sure she was flattered by this comment.
"It'd be really groovy, Mom," Jason urged. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that."
"Why not?"
"It just seems ... a bit much," she mumbled. "I mean, being naked with two men at once." Even as she said, it, she knew it sounded lame.
"You could get used to that. Matter of fact, I know just the place," Jason said enthusiastically.
"Where?"
"That beach where Dad and Judy went," Jason replied. "No one wears anything there."
"Oh, I don't think I could go there," Joyce argued, worried about the turn the conversation was taking, and the increasing dominance her son was exhibiting.
"Sure, you could. You look great naked. Everyone would really admire you."
Joyce was flattered by his assessment. "Don't you think I'm a little old for that sort of thing?"
"Shucks no, Mom. You look real young."
"Do you really think so?"
"Sure, I do," Jason insisted. "Come on, Mom, what do you say?"
"Well...."
"Groovy!" Jason exclaimed, jumping to the conclusion that she would go. "We can go tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Joyce squeaked, feeling the initiative rapidly slipping away from her.
"Sure." Jason peeked out into the playroom. "Come on, let's get out of here; they're gone."
Joyce followed her son, amazed at how control of the situation had been taken from her. She felt bewildered and helpless as he led the way up the stairs. The house was empty, and Paul's car was gone. Evidently he, Mark and Judy had gone off somewhere. Joyce headed upstairs to take a shower.
The warm spray sluiced over her, washing away the sweat, and the cum. She had committed herself to going to a beach where no one wore any clothes! The water couldn't wash that away.
Her relationship with Jason was developing in unpredictable ways. She was possessive of him, unwilling to share him with anyone else. But he was willing, even eager to share her with his friends. And, he was gaining greater and greater self-assurance. He was beginning to dominate the relationship, until she wasn't behaving as a parent any more, but a concubine. And she didn't know what to do about it, or if she wanted to. She'd never felt so young and alive in her life as she did now.
Joyce dried herself slowly, lingering over her breasts, and her crotch. She liked the feeling of the towel rubbing past her pussy. She felt her excitement growing again, and tried to turn it off. Then, knowing exactly what she wanted, she went back to her self-stimulation. After all, it certainly wasn't any worse than anything she'd already done. Digging her fingers into her pussy, Joyce quickly sent herself roaring to a wonderful, controlled orgasm.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Joyce puttered around the house aimlessly, not really paying attention to what she was doing. Her mind was miles away, remembering the beach she and Jason had gone to the day before. He'd virtually shanghaied her into it. With the determination of youth he'd badgered her, and finally she'd caved in.
Joyce hadn't resisted his demands out of a sense of modesty or fear. She'd been trying to fight back, to regain control of a situation that was getting away from her. She wanted to maintain her domination of him, to guide the development of their relationship.
And, in the end, she'd lost. As she'd caved in to him she'd felt the last vestiges of control slipping through her fingers. But there hadn't been any glow of victory in his eyes, only an expression of satisfaction and self-assurance he'd never had before.
Joyce had tried to tell herself that the beach was only a compromise and that she'd be back in the driver's seat soon. But she knew she was lying to herself. She knew she'd lost. They would continue on the path Jason had set for them, regardless of how she felt. She had intimations of what this would mean, and it frightened her. She felt so totally helpless.
The beach itself had been an experience worth trying. She'd followed Jason's directions to a steep bluff, pulling the car into the makeshift parking area at the end of the dirt road. From the car they'd gone along a narrow path through the scrub. Then, below them, had opened a beautiful secluded cove. The cliff was high enough to make Joyce back away from the edge nervously. Here and there on the sand were towels, and brown bodies, but it was too far to determine the sex of the sunbathers. A few of the more venturesome souls were sampling the surf, and two surfboards bobbed gently beyond the breakers, their pilots waiting for the perfect wave.
Jason led the way down the path that wound precipitously down the bluff to the sand. Joyce kept her eyes resolutely on the path, terrified of falling.
Suddenly they'd arrived on the pale sand and Joyce glanced up cautiously. A few yards away two deeply tanned nude bodies lay soaking up the sun. The girl lay on her stomach, the man on his back. Joyce noted that even the man's cock was tanned. He looked horrifyingly healthy.
Tearing her eyes off the sight, Joyce looked around curiously. "There aren't any bathhouses," she noted apprehensively.
"Why should there be?" Jason asked. "Come on over here."
"Couldn't we go over there?" Joyce asked, pointing at a more isolated stretch of beach.
"Naw, this looks better," Jason insisted.
Joyce followed numbly along, trying to look casual, trying not to stare at the variety of nude bodies. She flushed when she noticed the wide variety of male organs visible, large and small, circumcised and uncircumcised.
"Here's fine," Jason decided, spreading a towel, then undressing. He stripped off his clothes as casually as if he were at home. Joyce fiddled helplessly with her towel, finally getting it spread so smoothly she couldn't pretend to be pulling out wrinkles any longer.
"Get undressed," Jason told her.
Joyce sighed with relief that at least he didn't call her "Mom". She'd felt that wouldn't be wise. Fortunately, he'd agreed. In fact, he seemed eager to pass her off as his date. Joyce found this flattering. Turning her back to the nearest people, Joyce began to undress, then saw a youthful couple only ten feet away watching her curiously. She turned again, only to find an elderly man sitting behind her, staring pensively past her out to sea. She was directly in his line of sight.
Joyce turned again. She wanted to crumple and cry. She was spinning like a dervish, making a total fool of herself. Steeling herself, she concentrated on undressing, studiously ignoring the people around her.
Finally she sank down on the towel, incredibly conscious of her nudity. She curled up so her arms and knees covered her as much as possible, and glanced around nervously.
No one seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to her any more. She felt like a complete klutz. But she still didn't uncurl, and kept herself as covered as possible.
Meanwhile, Jason, as cool as a cucumber, was spreading suntan lotion on himself, paying careful attention to the untanned portions of his anatomy. He'd tossed her the lotion, stretched out on his back, his hands under his head, and promptly dozed off.
His casualness and calmness had only made Joyce feel worse than ever. Fighting her modesy, she'd managed to spread suntan lotion on herself, taking a cue from her son and making sure she had plenty on the pale, sensitive areas that weren't usually exposed to the sun. No one had paid any more attention to her. She'd stretched out on her stomach first, feeling more protected that way; then, after a while, she rolled over on her back. She'd still had to battle to keep from trying to cover herself with her hands. Involuntary shivers had racked her from time to time, but finally they, too, had faded.
Joyce had felt a little disappointed. She tried to figure out why, then shook her head when she did. It was the total unsexuality of the entire scene that disappointed her. Nothing happened! It was just a bunch of naked people soaking up the sun. It was really a bit of a drag. She'd been expecting an orgy, and all there was was a volleyball game.
Feeling much more relaxed after this bit of cleverness, she'd let Jason entice her into the water, where they'd floated and paddled. One of the surfers zoomed past with his girl perched on his shoulders. The two of them looked marvelously free and graceful as they balanced on the board.
And that had been all that had happened. Joyce sighed at the memory. It had been a pleasant, relaxing, comfortable, and totally unexciting day at the beach. The only real difference at the end of the day had been the sting of a mild sunburn on her breasts, ass and hips, and no disgusting sandy bathing suit to rinse out.
Now she was wandering aimlessly around the empty house. It was Monday. Paul was at work. School was finished for the summer. Judy had disappeared early, and Jason not much later. Joyce was bored.
She thought briefly of going shopping, then discarded the idea. She just didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter. She could sunbathe, but the mild burn from the beach didn't make that idea very appealing. She thought of doing some housework, then realized there wasn't anything that really needed doing.
She wanted something, but couldn't decide what. She was too restless to settle down with the newspaper or a book or a magazine. She flipped through the TV schedule only to discover she wasn't even reading it. The whole situation was absolutely infuriating!
Then the back door banged, and Joyce whirled toward it, her spirits lifting.
"Hi, Mom!"
"Jason!" Joyce called, relief flooding through her. "What are you doing home?"
"It's lunch time," Jason answered blandly as she hurried into the kitchen. "You remember Mike, don't you?"
"Hello, Mike," Joyce greeted the boy. She hoped her voice was steady, and tried not to study him too obviously. He was tall, skinny, and had blond hair that was bleached almost white by the sun.
Joyce began to get lunch, keeping her back to the two teen-agers so her nervousness wouldn't show. "Is Judy going to be home for lunch?" Joyce asked. She'd tried to make the question sound casual, but it seemed to echo around the kitchen.
"Nope," Jason answered casually. "She said she wouldn't be home until dinner."
"Oh." Joyce felt a weird mixture of relief and fear at this. "All right."
Joyce knew what was coming, or at least knew how it was going to end up. But she didn't know how it was going to be set up, or when, or where, and the suspense was excruciating. She clattered a plate of sandwiches down on the table, her hand shaking violently. She helped herself to a beer after pouring milk for the boys.
She tried to act casual as she sat down at the table with them. "What are your plans for this afternoon?" she asked nervously.
Jason shrugged. "I thought maybe we could do some sunbathing. You know, like yesterday."
"Jason said I didn't need to worry about a bathing suit," Mike said, his voice cracking nervously.
"That's right," Joyce answered in a whisper when her voice failed her.
"We got a nice private backyard," Jason pointed out. "We can just spread some towels out, or maybe those old camping mattresses that are up in the attic."
"I got one down the other day," Joyce informed him.
"Mike and I'll get the other ones. How many are there?"
"Three more, I think. Be careful on the attic ladder."
"We will be. Come on, Mike. Mom'll get some towels and the suntan lotion out for us."
Joyce was on the verge of tears as she hastily cleaned up the kitchen. She felt so helpless! She knew what was going to happen, and couldn't do a thing about it. Her own nature wouldn't even let her run away. She located the suntan oil and beach towels and took them out to the backyard.
Jason and Mike appeared with the thin foam mattresses and spread them on the ground, In a few seconds Jason had snapped all four mattresses together to form one large pad.
He began to undress, tossing his clothes in a heap. "Come on, get undressed Mike."
"But, uh, a suit?" the boy asked hesitantly.
"I told you, you didn't need one," Jason answered.
"Oh! Like at the beach!"
"Yeah dummy," Jason replied. "What on earth did you think I meant? Mom, why don't you lie between us?"
"Between you," Joyce echoed numbly.
"You gonna sunbathe with us, too?" Mike asked.
"Sure, she is. Come on, Mom, get undressed."
"Yes, Jason," Joyce answered softly, slowly beginning to remove her clothes. She suddenly felt very hot and sticky. She didn't look at the two boys as she removed her blouse and skirt. She half-turned her back on them as she skinned her panties down.
When she turned around, she found that Mike and Jason were watching her. Her eyes went to their groins. They both already had erections, that neither was making any attempt to conceal. Joyce suddenly felt very much like a target.
"Right here, Mom," Jason instructed, patting the mattress next to him. "Lie on your stomach and I'll oil you."
Joyce felt dead and alive all at the same time. Her old shame and modesty were dead, while her new sexuality was more alive than ever. Following Jason's instructions, feeling Mike watching her closely, she stretched out on her stomach between them. Resting her cheek on her hands, she closed her eyes.
She felt a pool of cool oil between her shoulder blades and shuddered. Jason spread the oil slowly and tenderly over her back, and Joyce relaxed. The sun baked the tension out of her muscles, and the touch of Jason's hands on her bare skin was strangely relaxing.
Jason trailed thin driblets of oil down the backs of Joyce's legs. She sighed. The sun was so nice and warm, and she felt so pampered as her son massaged the oil into her skin. A slow, warm bum was developing in her groin and spreading through her body. Feeling loved and spoiled, the last of her tension melting slowly away, Joyce assured herself that Jason loved her and wouldn't do anything to degrade her.
Jason finished her legs and there was a short pause. Then his oil-covered hands were massaging her soft buttocks, and Joyce's excitement burned higher. He kneaded the soft mounds firmly and lovingly, working the oil into her skin. His fingers slid into the crack between the cheeks of her ass, touched bottom, and Joyce convulsed with passion. She was melting inside, softening into a warm pool of lust. She pressed her pussy into the mattress in an effort to increase the wonderful sensations burning through her. Then Jason stopped, sliding his hands slowly off her ass.
Joyce lifted her head, disappointment chilling her, and turned over on her back. She knew she didn't have to say anything to Jason. She posed for Mike. He was sitting right next to her on the mattresses. Joyce smiled up at him, resting her hands at her sides, bending one knee gracefully, sucking in her stomach slightly. She lay on her back, the warm sun flooding her nude body. She closed her eyes and savored the sensuous sexuality flooding through her.
Jason poured a pool of suntan oil between her breasts and started rubbing the oil downward and outward. Then his hands slid over her breasts, spreading the lotion over the soft masses, and Joyce sighed deeply at the feeling. Inside she was blazing hot. Smiling contentedly, she rolled her head slowly from side to side and almost purred with pleasure. She let her leg slide down straight, let her feet point outward, exposing her pussy to the sun, her son, and his friend.
Jason dribbled suntan oil on her belly, and Joyce restrained a giggle from the tickle. She quivered. Jason spread the oil lower, over the wings of her hipbones, then lower, into the bush of her pubic hair. Joyce groaned as her lust boiled up at the pressure of his hand on her pussy. She spread her legs wide, and Jason's fingers pressed into her crotch, but still didn't invade her slit. He put an even pressure on her pussy, and Joyce let lust flame through her. He was cupping her cunt in his warm hand in an incredibly exciting way.
For a brief moment, Joyce wondered how Mike was taking things. She looked at him and he licked his lips tensely, his eyes flickering over her rapidly as if he were trying to see everything at once. He looked fascinated, and a little scared. She smiled at him encouragingly.
Then Jason slid his finger into her cunt, and Joyce's eyes closed as an explosion of pleasure ripped through her. She turned herself completely over to Jason's petting and her own lust. The sun burned through her closed eyelids as her passion soared upward.
Then Jason's lips were at her nipples, teasing them, nibbling them, and Joyce nearly climaxed right then. The pure sexuality of the entire scene was almost too much for her. Her hips began to shift and stir restlessly. Her pussy was seeking something bigger and hotter and harder than the finger that was in it.
Jason suckled at one tit, then the other. She felt his body shifting until he was lying next to her. She blindly sought and found his hard cock and wrapped her fingers around it tightly. She milked it, stroked it and squeezed it. She needed it desperately.
Jason moved over her, covering her body with his, shielding her from the hot rays of the sun. His body felt cool and dry after the hot sun. His skin felt very smooth and slick against hers. He settled between her thighs and his cock slid toward the opening her cunt. Reaching down, she pointed his prick to the opening and felt him push it upward, burying the cockhead in her. Then he began to work it into her in slow, gradual stages. Joyce wrapped her arms around her son as he slowly drove his cock into her with pumping motions of his hips.
It was so welcome, so hot, so hard, so wonderful. Joyce savored every marvelous fraction of an inch of bulk as it slowly bored into her. Her legs were spread wide, her knees bent, her open thighs providing a cradle for her son as he screwed his cock up into her. And she knew that Mike was watching the entire procedure carefully. The knowledge increased Joyce's passion. The exhibitionism of the act was the icing on the cake for Joyce. She roared upward to a climax that went on and on and on as Jason pistoned his staff in her steaming cunt.
Jason pumped his cock in and out of her, and Joyce felt her hips answering him. She was coming like a fouuntain, and her body was twisting, bumping and writhing under him. She tightened her streaming cunt around Jason's cock, feeling the big shaft burn along her slick folds. Reaching down, she cupped his tight, muscular ass, digging her fingers into the crack. She reached deep under him and found his balls and touched them, then pressed upward at the base of the sac holding them. She didn't know what her fingers were doing, but knew her instincts were right. She touched the tight knot of Jason's asshole and felt him drive into her harder and faster. She felt his balls tensing up; then he was pouring cock juice into her, the muscles in his ass jerking and straining.
Joyce hung on and milked every steaming drop out of her son's cock, striving to make the orgasm as wonderful as possible for him. Her own coming was like a river of fire tearing through her.
And, as long as her climax was, it wasn't long enough. She felt Jason's coming declining, and her own orgasm fading along with it, and knew it wasn't enough for her. Jason lay on her for a few moments, then rolled off, sliding his cock out of her, leaving her achingly empty. Blindly, desperately, she reached for Mike and dragged him down on top of her.
He was stunned for a moment, but quickly responded to her passionate kiss. He squirmed his body over hers as she opened hesrelf to him. He pushed and prodded at her awkwardly and ineffectually. Reaching down, Joyce guided his impatient cock into her. He jammed it in anxiously.
"Relax," she told him softly. "Take your time. I'll show you."
Mike shuddered and started to apologize. Joyce shushed him gently.
"It's all right," she assured him. "Just take your time. Feel how hot and slick I am?"
"I can't wait," Mike moaned, not in the mood for small talk. His hips were already beyond his control.
"Then GO!" Joyce said eagerly. "Let yourself go and just do what you want."
Mike responded like a race horse out of the gate. He began to screw Joyce so hard she was fighting for breath. Her excitement soared upward like a volcano until she was coming again, wildly and insanely. She felt Mike ramming at her desperately, then pouring semen into her, shoving at her as if he were trying to push his cock clear through her. His orgasm was harsh, hard, violent, his shots of semen blasting from him in short, sharp bursts to slam against the end of her cunt. Joyce hung on for a long, wonderful time until the youngster's spurtings slowly died away and the strain in his muscles eased.
"That was cool!" Jason exclaimed from beside them. "That really looked wild."
Joyce shook her head slowly. "I didn't even know you were watching."
"Didn't know I was watching! I practically had my head stuffed in your crotch."
At the thought of her son having his head in her crotch, Joyce shuddered. She remembered the wild Lesbian session with Barbara, and a spasm of desire ripped through her.
"Has either of you ever eaten a girl?" she asked the two teen-agers.
"Huh?" they replied in unison.
"Have you ever had oral sex with a girl?" Joyce repeated.
"What's that?" Jason asked.
Joyce felt a surge of power. There were still things she could teach her son, still ways she could control him. "You put your face between my legs and lick me down there," she said bluntly.
"Oh, sort of like we saw with...."
"Like we saw that time in the basement," Joyce interrupted quickly, before Jason inadvertently mentioned his sister and father in the same breath.
"Yeah, that's what I meant," Jason finished. "Only that was the other way around."
"What're you two talking about?" Mike asked, bewildered.
"You gonna do me that way?" Jason asked his mother.
Joyce gulped. She hadn't thought of it that way. She'd been thinking only of having Jason devour her pussy. Her stomach knotted at the thought of sucking her son's cock. "Will you do me that way?" she asked in return.
"Well...." Jason said, hesitatingly. "What does it taste like?"
Joyce batted that hot potato around in her mind. She didn't know if she should admit that she knew. But if she didn't, how would she get Jason to eat her out?
"How would she know?" Mike asked, rescuing her.
"If you do me, I'll do you," Joyce said quickly. "And if it tastes bad, we'll stop."
"Okay," Jason agreed. "You do me first."
Joyce froze. She hadn't figured on that. But she'd agreed. She remembered what it had been like having Barbara's mouth busy on her pussy, and wanted to feel that delicious agony again. But what if she did her son, and then he chickened out because he didn't like the taste? That would leave her high and dry.
"Why don't you both do it at once?" Mike asked.
"Sixty-nine!" Jason exclaimed, understanding flashing across his face.
Joyce felt as if the world had gone slightly mad. She was lying naked in the middle of the backyard with two nude teen-agers, debating oral sex. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Who wants beer?" Jason asked suddenly. "I might want to rinse my mouth out," he explained. He got up and returned from the kitchen in a few moments with three frosty cans. Popping the tops, he handed them out. Joyce half-drained hers immediately. As he settled back down on the mats Joyce felt the alcohol steam into her veins.
Mike took a sip of beer, made a face and set the can aside. Jason poured his down almost as fast as his mother had. In a few seconds his can was empty and he tossed it aside, then belched loudly.
"Sorry," he apologized.
Joyce smothered a burp of her own. "That's all right," she assured him formally. Her eyes kept straying to his cock. It was partially erect, nodding over his balls. She reached over and touched it gently, feeling how it was sort of hard, sort of soft. She licked her lips nervously. She was sitting facing Jason. She bent, bringing her face toward his crotch, her eyes fastened on the pink-purple head of his organ. A shining drop glistened at its tip, right at the pouting slit. Joyce felt her eyes starting to cross as she drew closer and closer; so she shut them and sought his cock blindly with her mouth.
The drop at the tip seemed to sting her lips when they touched it. She felt it clinging to her. Letting her lips open slightly, she pressed the head of the organ against her teeth. The shaft between her fingers began to swell and grow, pushing into her mouth, wedging her lips apart. She allowed the hardening prick to burrow deeper into her mouth. She unclenched her teeth and pressed her tongue against it, tasting the cum that had dried on it. Saliva flooded her mouth. She gulped. The motion made his staff grow faster. She rubbed it with her tongue and felt it respond eagerly. She heard Jason gulp and felt him stretching out on his back, his muscles slackening. Carefully, she let her body extend along his, her feet toward his head.
The sun was very warm on her bare back and ass. She was bracing herself on her elbows, her head hovering over her son's groin as she sucked his cock. The skin at the base of his cock felt very smooth and soft because of the lack of pubic hair.
She pressed his cock against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. She pushed her head downward, driving his tool toward her throat.
She felt him writhing as his excitement grew. Now it was time. Moving slowly and carefully, not lifting her head from his cock, she got to her knees. Then she lifted one leg over his head to straddle him. Her cunt was right over his face. Slowly, so as not to intimidate him, she lowered her pussy toward his mouth, praying he would do it.
She kept stimulating his cock as best as she could as she lowered her pussy toward his mouth. She felt his warm breath on her thighs and knew she was getting close. His breath stirred her pubic hair and she whimpered deep in her throat.
Jason's arms slid around her thighs, his hands gripping her and guiding her. His tongue touched her pussy, pressing between the lips, and lust ripped through her like wildfire. She felt Jason's tongue stroke the length of her slit, and her passion roared like a blowtorch. Encouraged, she drove her head down on Jason's cock until it bruised the back of her throat. She started to gag, but managed to swallow instead. Saliva flooded her mouth. He tasted like her pussy and his cum, and she knew it, and that only made her feel wilder. She sucked, caving her cheeks in.
And Jason rammed his tongue into her cunt, hauling her hips down on him, his chin mashing her clitoris. Joyce was aflame from head to toe as Jason screwed his tongue in and out of her cunt. She felt his lips working, felt him driving his tongue into her as if he were trying to get to the bottom of her channel.
She bobbed her head on his cock, fucking her face on his prick, ramming his hot organ as deeply into her mouth as she could. She angled her head and rammed the head of his cock down her throat, her eyes watering as she gagged. She fondled his balls in their wrinkled sac, poking her fingers behind them to stimulate him even more. She felt something wriggling at her own asshole and suddenly realized Jason was poking a finger at the little bud. The sensation was stupendous, driving Joyce to a streaming orgasm that drenched her son's face in cum.
Joyce felt his balls tightening up, drawing up close to the base of his cock, and knew he was going to come. She wanted to pull her face away and let him shoot his load into empty air, but wouldn't allow herself to chicken out. Some perverted part of her wanted his cum to pour into her mouth and down her throat. She felt the cum ripping down the length of the cock in her mouth and gulped just before it slammed into the back of her throat.
She was coming wildly herself, and struggled to swallow Jason's cum as it poured out of his cock in thick, hard shots. She swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, as wave after wave of semen poured into her mouth. Her stomach knotted at the onslaught, but finally absorbed it without rebelling. And her own orgasm kept going and going and going as Jason chewed happily on her pussy, his jaw working wildly against her clitoris, his tongue reaming out her cunt.
Joyce could never decide afterwards how long the orgasms had lasted. It might've been seconds, minutes, or hours. All she knew was that finally she was swallowing only her own saliva, and that the cock in her mouth was a limp mass. Her own orgasm had faded to a satisfied ache and Jason was pushing her hips up off his face. With an exhausted groan, she rolled away from him and sprawled on her back. Spit and semen dried on her cheeks and chin as she fought for breath. She was exhausted.
She was full.
CHAPTER NINE
Joyce fluttered and twittered nervously over the final arrangements in the playroom, trying desperately to control her nervousness and excitement. Everything seemed to be in place. And she was as ready as she'd ever be. As she arranged a stack of napkins for the fifth time, she tried to remember how the whole thing had gotten started. Actually, it had just sort of developed slowly with her and Jason. A phrase drifted through Joyce's mind, something about brilliant minds and similar paths. She smiled.
One thing was certain. It wouldn't be like any other birthday party for a boy turning fourteen. There would be cake and ice cream. But there wouldn't be any funny hats or noisemakers. And there wouldn't be any Pin The Tail On The Donkey or Blind Man's Buff, either. At least not in the usual sense.
There was going to be only one party favor for the guests. Joyce's stomach tightened at the thought. She wondered when they would arrive, and how many there would be. Her crotch felt suddenly damp and sticky. Along with her building excitement, there was a tiny knot of fear spicing her other feelings.
She heard the back door bang open and her heart skipped a beat. Tensely, she took up a position beside the refreshment table, trying not to let her nervousness show as she heard the babble of voices from the kitchen.
Then there were footsteps on the stairs and the room was flooded with Jason and his friends. Joyce felt a bit dazed as she watched the crowd swirling around the room. She tried to count how many there were, but they were moving too fast. She'd told Jason to limit the party to friends he could trust to be discreet. It looked as if he'd brought the whole baseball team.
The mob descended on the refreshment table like a hoard of locusts, absorbing the plates of ice cream and cake, inhaling the cups of punch. Joyce managed to keep up with the astronomical demand for food and drink, refilling cups and plates as rapidly as they were emptied. She was too busy to be nervous any more.
The record player was hammering out a beat powerful enough to rattle the windows. The voices rose ahove the din in an unintelligible, excited babble.
The demand for food stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and Joyce heaved a sigh of relief, then felt her tenseness returning. She felt the muscles of her stomach knotting up again as she surveyed the remains on the table, then studied the crowd. Now that the mass of guests had settled down, she was able to take a quick count. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or terrified when she came up with eight plus her son. He had brought the equivalent of a baseball team.
As she cleared up some of the drbris, Joyce was aware of being the object of frequent interested, curious, and excited glances. Dumping a handful of paper plates in the trash can, she wondered what Jason had told his friends and just what they were expecting. She'd promised to put herself at Jason's disposal for whatever he wanted to do. Whatever happened, however the party went, it was totally out of her control.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason coming toward her and shivered. She saw the faces turning toward her as featureless white blobs. She was the center of attention.
"Ready, Mom?" Jason asked, his smile confident and excited.
Joyce tried to postpone it by finding something more she had to do, then caved in. She was as ready as she'd ever be. "I guess so," she replied in a whisper.
"Put this on," Jason instructed, handing her a blindfold.
Joyce looked at the strip of black cloth as if it were a snake. She gingerly took it from Jason. She suddenly felt as if she were about to be marched to her own execution. Her hands shook as she put the cloth over her eyes. She finally had to turn her back on Jason so he could knot the blindfold for her. He turned her around and checked that she wasn't able to see anything. Then he guided her to the center of the room.
Joyce stumbled slightly on the invisible floor. The blindfold forced her to rely on her other senses. She heard nervous whispers and shuffling feet surrounding her and felt her heart begin to pound even harder. She had no idea what to expect.
Evidently Jason had laid the groundwork before they'd arrived, as she didn't hear him giving any instructions. He stopped her and she waited obediently. Then he pushed at her and she tried to follow his urging as best she could. He was turning her around, as if it were a game of Blind Man's Buff. In a few seconds she was totally lost, with no idea which way she was facing.
Then there was a gentle push between her shoulder blades and she staggered blindly forward. Trying to keep from blundering into anything, she stuck her arms out in front of her, reaching blindly. For a few steps there was nothing and she thought she was going to fall. She couldn't tell if she was walking in a straight line or not.
Feet shuffled around her and suddenly there were hands on her, holding her. Fingers were fumbling at the buttons of her blouse. She tried not to flinch away. She felt her blouse being opened, then pulled back off her shoulders. Obediently, she let them strip her blouse down her arms and off.
She hadn't known at the time why Jason had instructed her to wear a bra for a change, but was beginning to understand. Hands turned her again and gave her a push and she staggered away, the air cool against her bare stomach above her skirt. Her nipples were hard inside her bra and hurt.
Hands stopped her and someone was working on the fastening of her skirt. She felt it loosen and drop around her ankles. She tried to take a step and her feet got tangled. Surprisingly, gentle hands steadied her and someone guided her feet out of the tangle, removing her high heels at the same time.
Then she was being turned again and sent on her way. She was down to her panties and bra now, and frantically conscious of the amount of naked skin she was showing. When hands touched her this time they were touching bare skin and Joyce began to get excited. Someone worked on the catch of her bra and loosened it easily; then someone else was pulling it off her, baring her breasts.
There were lingering caresses on her bare breasts that sent waves of warmth surging through her. Hands pushed against the soft masses of her boobs and Joyce felt a blush warm her cheeks. Then she was sent on her way again.
This time the blind, staggering walk seemed to take forever. She hadn't counted steps before, but she had the feeling she was taking more than before. Each step seemed to be as if she were walking through thick mud. The floor felt cold under her bare feet and she could feel cool air on her bare breasts.
Then hands were stopping her again and fumbling with her panties. Joyce stood very still as she felt her last garment being stripped off her. She felt cold air dry the excited juices of her pussy and felt her panties sliding down her sleek legs. Someone guided her feet out of them; then she was nude. Hands were brushing over her skin and there was a puff of warm air on her pussy as if someone were studying it closely. Hands cupped her breasts, and she could tell from the size and feel that they belonged to two different people. Her breasts were being weighed and tested for softness by at least two boys, while a third inspected her pussy.
Then she was sent on her way again to stagger blindly across the room. Again hands were roaming boldly over her bare body, stimulating and exploring her. Joyce's lust was soaring higher now. She was flattered to be the center of attention of so many healthy young males. There were admiring whispers and other sounds around her now. She thought she heard the clink of a belt buckle and the rustle of cloth, but wasn't sure.
She was pushed on again, into other seeking, testing hands. Helpless, she let them explore every square inch of her. Hands measured her breasts, tested the texture of the skin on her thighs, patted her buttocks, stroked her back and ribs, brushed her belly. Fingers pried into her pussy, releasing waves of liquid from her excited tissues.
And now some of the bodies she was bumping against were as naked as she was. She felt bare skin against her bare skin as she was handed around the room. Even with the blindfold on Joyce could tell that most, if not all, of the boys were now as naked as she. She felt a hard, hot mass bump against one of her thighs and identified it from the brief contact as a hard cock. She wondered whose.
The hands became bolder now, more impatient and less gentle. Someone pinched one of her nipples almost too hard, bringing tears to her eyes and a rush of desire to her pussy. Fingers spread her labia, poking into her inner folds of tissue, sending another wave of fire through her. Someone dug his fingers between the cheeks of her ass, touched her pussy from behind and Joyce felt her knees sag with passion. Someone nibbled and suckled at one of her tits and Joyce thought she was going to faint. A finger slid deep into her cunt, and Joyce whimpered with hunger.
She wasn't being pushed around any more. Instead, she felt as if she were surrounded by warm bodies all pressing to get close to her. There were hands all over her, poking, prodding and exploring her crevices and recesses. She was burning up with excitement. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Then hands were pushing at her again, pushing on her shoulders, pushing to get her to bend her knees. Hands guided and supported her as she followed instructions. She was being stretched out on the rug. She felt feet moving aside to make room for her. Hands were holding her arms and her legs, spreading her, opening her up totally. Her legs were spread wide-open and her arms were held out straight so that there wasn't a square inch of her that wasn't visible, except her back. She was totally and mercilessly exposed.
Not one intelligible world had been spoken. There had been whispers and sighs, nothing more. The silence was almost reverent. Joyce whimpered deep in her throat, her desire feeling like steam boiling through her veins. Her pussy ached for something to fill it.
A body settled on hers at the same time her hands were released. Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around whoever was on top of her. She couldn't tell who it was, and didn't care. She felt a cock seek and find her pussy. Her hips writhed in response as she welcomed the big rod into her. The hot shaft bored into her cunt and she soared upward toward a clashing orgasm. Her legs were released and she dragged her feet upward, toward her ass, bending her knees. Digging her heels into the rug, she lifted and writhed her hips in an attempt to get the cock even further into her.
The boy on top of her pounded his cock into her, ramming it deep into her steaming tissues. He pumped his hips and Joyce urged him on with her hands. She was the blind, helpless receptacle for his hot cock. She was beginning to come, and knew he wouldn't be far behind. She soared up to her own orgasm just as she felt him pouring semen into her belly, his muscles quivering and straining.
The spurting of the cock in her pussy declined, and Joyce relaxed. But before she could catch her breath, the body on top of her was gone, and another was replacing it. A new cock bored into her pussy, stuffing her full and sending her roaring upward again. She began to climax for a second time and was still coming wildly when she felt a second load of cum pouring into her. She was dazed and almost delirious with pleasure.
And then someone else was screwing his organ into her; a different cock was filling her cunt. A more slender, lighter body was on top of her now. And her orgasm went on and on and on. She didn't even begin to drop back after this load of cum was poured into her. She was an insane knot of pleasure as still another cock was rammed into her glutted cunt. She felt a gush of displaced semen pour down her ass as the cock pistoned into her.
Joyce's world became hazed with lust as the gang-bang went on and on and on. She was only faintly aware of one cock being replaced by another, only dimly aware of wave after wave of semen being poured into her pussy. She was awash in cum. She felt it pouring out of her and streaming down over her ass to pool on the rug under her. She absorbed wave after wave of thick, sperm-filled fluid, and kept right on coming.
The blindfold was stripped away from her eyes and she blinked as she was battered by the harsh glare from the ceiling light. She looked around vaguely at the faces surrounding her, wondering who it was that was pouring his hot fluid into her pussy.
She was so dazed by her own endless orgasm that she couldn't focus on the expressions of the boys surrounding her. Their faces were featureless blobs as they watched her endless degradation.
She'd lost count of the number of cocks that had entered her. The boy on top of her at the moment finished his pumping and heaving, emitted a sigh like an exhausted steam engine and rolled off her.
The sudden emptiness in her cunt was a brutal jolt. She writhed vaguely, trying to gather her senses and understand what had happened. She whimpered, miserable at the sudden emptiness of her vagina. She felt cum oozing slowly out of her as she lay there, the room spinning around her.
Someone knelt beside her and she looked up at him, dazed.
"You okay, Mom?" Jason asked solicitously.
Joyce wanted to assure him she was, but her mouth was too dry. "Drink?" she managed to croak out.
"Here you are, Mrs. Kirkland," one of the boys said, handing her a cup of punch.
Jason helped her sit up and she sipped gratefully. She hadn't told anyone, even Jason, but part of the fizz in the punch came from a cheap sparkling wine, not ginger ale. Joyce felt it flow down into her belly and out into her veins and heaved a long, happy sigh.
"You okay?" Jason asked again.
"I'm fine," Joyce assured him contentedly.
"This is the best party I've ever been to, Mrs. Kirkland," one of the youngsters enthused.
Joyce felt that the situation was a little unreal. All of them were nude, sprawled around on the floor and the couch. She had the cum of God-knew-how-many of them sloshing around in her cunt.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," she replied calmly. They were all incredibly polite, all calling her "Mrs. Kirkland," even though they'd just had intercourse with her.
"Ouch, I ache," Joyce complained mildly. She looked around the room at all the nude bodies surrounding her. Here was her harem! They came in all shapes and sizes: tall and short, chunky and skinny. Every one of them was a succulently beautiful specimen of masculinity. Here and there were the beginnings of pubic hair, sparse and shy, closely hugging the bases of cocks. The organs were large and small; some were hard and some were limp, though the latter were in the minority. None of the boys seemed a bit shy about his body. The sight of so much naked flesh made her mouth water. She was the center of attention and loved it. She felt she was the most desired and desirable woman on earth.
Finishing the punch, she tossed the paper cup away and reached out blindly. Her fingers found one firm young thigh and traced it up to its origin, finding the half-hard organ there. She wrapped her hand around the mass and felt it begin to swell. She didn't even look to see who it was attached to. The growing rod was all that mattered. She squeezed fondly, leaning back against someone else's chest as she did so. Tantalized by the number of pricks available to her, she reached out with her other hand and found a second shaft within reach. In seconds it, too, was growing rapidly to fill her fist, then push beyond it.
The boys converged on her as she petted the two cocks. She pumped them both in her fists, gently and slowly, to draw the pleasure out as long as she possibly could.
No one said a thing, and she could hear the boys breathing, a .subtle note of excitement in the silence. Sometime during her screwing the record player had finished. They didn't need it. They were going to make their own music again soon enough.
She wiggled silently, pleasantly aware of a cock swelling against her back. The boy she was leaning against had his legs spread on either side of her, and he was evidently leaning back against the couch. She felt his arms slide around her from behind to cup the soft, heavy masses of her breasts. He pressed and massaged them, his hands the cups of a truly living bra. Her nipples poked into his palms, begging for attention. He let his fingers spread and capture the hard knots, pinching them. His breath was warm in her ear. She shifted, rolling his hard cock against the upper part of her ass, just above the crack supporting her buttocks.
In front of her a boy was sitting cross-legged, staring straight up between her legs. She slid her heels apart, spreading her thighs so he could see right up into the heart of her cunt. He reached down absent-mindedly and wrapped his hand around his cock, and started pumping his hardening organ.
Joyce let her head sag back as new waves of passion surged through her. She was burning inside as she pumped the organs in her hands and had her breasts caressed by the boy behind her. She rubbed her cheek against his. Surprisingly, he responded by nibbling the side of her neck. The pinch of his teeth sent new shocks of pleasure roaring through her. His hips shifted impatiently and she wiggled, trying to roll his cock between their bodies.
When his arms tightened around her, Joyce thought he was just trying to pull her tighter against him. Then she felt how he was trying to lift her, and understood what he was doing. Drawing her heels up, she tried to help him, lifting herself upward, feeling his cock work its way down between the cheeks of her ass. The head of his shaft slid slowly down into the sweaty crack, lower and lower, and the lower it got, the better it felt.
It felt wonderful, then marvelous, then fantastic! It was almost right THERE!
The shaft's hot tip touched her asshole and Joyce's knees almost gave way. Her feet slipped and the head of the cock rammed at the tight ring of muscle, sending a flash of pain and pleasure through her. He was going to do it up her ass! She scrambled her feet, but they hit a wet spot on the floor and skidded out from under her. She fell on the hard staff and felt it enter her ass. The cum that had oozed from her pussy had dribbled down over her anus and now greased the path of the spear ramming up her butt. Joyce felt her asshole slowly yield to the iron-hard young cock, and gurgled with the delicious agony. She felt the ring of muscle stretching wider and wider as gravity dragged her relentlessly down on the prick. The cock's owner growled softly and pushed his hips upward.
Joyce didn't know whether the boy knew where he was putting his cock or not, and couldn't have cared less. She was still holding onto the two cocks in her hands. She wasn't pumping them now, just gripping them tightly as she fought to assimilate the prick being shoved deeper and deeper into her rectum. She was sitting on the boy now, and hoped her weight wasn't hurting him. But she wasn't about to relieve the pressure that was forcing the marvelously huge hard mass right up into her bowels. She tried to loosen the ring of muscle and let the invader work still deeper.
Joyce looked at the boy in front of her and realized that he could tell where that cock was going. He was watching the procedure avidly, licking his lips, his face filmed with sweat. He was so interested and excited by the process that he'd forgotten about pumping his own cock and was holding it absent-mindedly, his thumb stroking its tip. He licked his lips, and Joyce wiggled to work the cock deeper into her ass. She was feeling more and more full back there. She'd felt the ridge below the head of the hard tool slide past the ring of her anus and knew there wasn't any reason now why she couldn't take that entire staff up her rear. She felt it slide slowly deeper and deeper into her and growled in triumph.
A few more fractions of an inch, and then she had the entire wonderful mass buried in her asshole, right up to the hilt. The throaty sound she made was one of pure pleasure.
But her pussy felt empty. She had a cock up her ass, but nothing up her cunt. She had to have something. She looked hungrily at the staff of the boy in front of her and he started at the sudden intensity of her stare. Then he-caught on and moved toward her. At the same time, Joyce managed to work the boy behind her and herself down, so that instead of leaning against the couch they were stretched out on the floor. She hoped she wasn't too heavy for him as she lay down on top of him, his cock sunk completely in her asshole.
The boy who'd been masturbating crawled between her legs and settled between her thighs and those of the boy under her. Joyce felt like the filling of an obscene sandwich. She felt the boy push his cock at her vagina and almost died from the pleasure. Her cunt was being squeezed shut by the cock in her ass, making it a tight fit for the boy trying to stuff his prick into it. Joyce felt as if two wedges were being driven into her crotch, wedges that threatened to split her wide-open from her crotch upward.
She had to have something in her pussy, and the boy was working it into her. She felt the cock sliding deeper and deeper into her. She still clung grimly to the cocks in her hands. She was going to have more cock than any woman in history ever had. She clenched her fingers more tightly around the staffs in her hands and concentrated on the magnificent pleasure of a cock being rammed up her cramped cunt, squeezing the thin wall against the bulk buried in her butt.
Pressed between the two boys, Joyce hung on to her consciousness as she felt the cunt-boy nearing his goal. An inch more and he was there. His entire cock was buried in Joyce's pussy, pressing hard against the cock in her ass. Joyce was squeezed mercilessly between the boys.
Something bumped against her lips and Joyce opened her eyes to find herself staring at someone's navel. She could see a hand holding the base of the cock, aiming it into her mouth. She couldn't believe it, but her lips opened to admit the shaft. She tried to visualize the tangled mass of naked bodies around her and failed. She was the center of attention for five boys, while four more presumably watched.
She had a cock up her ass, a cock in her cunt, cocks in each hand, and one in her mouth. She was the core of a suffocating cock-cushion of wanton humanity. She thought she was going to die, and couldn't have cared less. Given a choice, she would have chosen this as the way to go, stuffed to overflowing with cocks.
It was almost as if a secret signal were given. Joyce whimpered as the cocks began to move, pumping in and out of her. The ass and pussy boys shifted and worked, sliding their organs out and ramming them back in alternately, twisting the partition of flesh separating them, making Joyce feel as if the wall were being torn apart. The friction from the bulks stretching her open was horrifying, and delicious. She was being burned up in her own pleasure.
Meanwhile, the boy with his cock in her mouth pushed at her, driving his cock to the back of her throat. He showed no mercy and rammed his shaft into her brutally hard, bruising her throat. Joyce hung on, fighting to avoid suffocating, struggling to keep from gagging, and enjoying every extraordinary minute of it. She tried to remember to pump the cocks in her hands as she absorbed the cocks being punishingly rammed into her three openings.
Mercifully, the agony couldn't last too long. The stimulation was too much for all of them. The cocks in Joyce's crotch were working against each other, and the cock in her mouth was being stimulated by her swallowing and her tongue. She fought desperately to keep the cocks in her hands satisfied. She was insane with pleasure. She felt like the receptacle for all the lust in the universe.
Joyce was climaxing endlessly, with one cock and then another taking over to keep her at her peak. Which cock began to come into her first she couldn't tell. It just seemed as if all at once she were being deluged with cum. Cum was pouring into her mouth, into her cunt, into her ass, and over both hands, all at once. She was swallowing and wallowing in semen. She was drowning in semen. She was floating in semen. She felt as if her blood were being replaced with the thick, hot fluid.
The orgasms perpetuated each other, threatening to go on forever. It was almost more than human flesh could withstand. Joyce felt consciousness slipping away from her, and whimpered. Not in fear, but because she didn't want it to end, it was too all-encompassing and marvelous.
The wall of blackness closed over her like the fist of a giant. As her consciousness faded, Joyce felt the cocks buried in her body slowly beginning to shrink and fade away, their full loads having been delivered into her depths. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, she released the cocks in her hands, spat out the one in her mouth and let her consciousness fade away into darkness.
CHAPTER TEN
Joyce smiled when she recalled the ensuing scandal. She glanced again at the clock, wishing Jason would get here with his friend. It had been impossible for the nine youngsters to keep quiet about the party. The whispers had started and flowered. And, as some sort of weird tribute to what had actually happened, the rumors had never caught up with the reality.
All things considered, the separation and divorce from Paul had been surprisingly amicable. They each knew what the other had been doing, so there had been no battle over child custody. Because of the rumors about the birthday party, Joyce and Jason had been the ones to leave town and take up residence halfway across the country. Paul and Judy had stayed, having been more discreet. Property had been divided, a cash settlement arranged and child-support payments for Jason established. Joyce hadn't been financially greedy, since she was getting what she really wanted. She didn't care about anything but Jason any more.
"Hi, Mom," Jason called out from the kitchen, making Joyce whirl around, her memories fading quickly.
"Hi, darling," she called cheerfully, heading out to the kitchen.
"Mom, this is Sam. Sam, this is my mother."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kirkland," the boy said politely, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. "Jason's told me a great deal about you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam," Joyce responded. "Are you going to be able to spend the night?" Her heart was beating very fast at the sight of the youth. He was dark, slender and handsome, with big, dark eyes that seemed to swallow her up.
"I certainly am, Mrs. Kirkland," Sam said enthusiastically.
"Well, why don't you two sit down and have something to eat? I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. I'll be back in a moment."
Joyce saw the knowing glance that passed between Jason and Sam and hurried out of the kitchen. She wasn't slipping into something more comfortable, she was slipping out of what she had on. She returned to the kitchen moments later, stark naked. She was proud of her sleek body.
"Wow!" Sam breathed admiringly, and Joyce flushed with pleasure. "You're beautiful."
"Thank you."
"Can we ... go upstairs right now?" Sam asked hopefully.
"Certainly," Joyce agreed easily.
Jason looked pleased as he herded his mother and Sam out of the kitchen. Joyce's legs were already quivering with suppressed lust. Sam looked deliciously neat, trim, young and eager.
Upstairs, in the master bedroom, there was one huge bed. And this time there was a mirrored ceiling and mirrored walls. Joyce had remembered her frustration at not being able to see the cock being driven into her and had had highly reflective surfaces installed to suit her pleasure. She'd tested them with the workmen.
Sam was tearing his clothes off as soon as he was through the door. She crawled to the center of the bed and stretched out, staring at her reflection in the mirror overhead. She liked what she saw. She was evenly tanned from head to toe, her flesh was firm and there wasn't a spare ounce on her. And she didn't have to deliberately exercise, either. Jason saw to it that she had enough exercise to keep her in shape.
Sam crawled over to her worshipfully, and settled beside her. "Can I touch you, Mrs. Kirkland?"
Joyce nodded happily. She never tried to keep them from calling her Mrs. Kirkland. The formality tickled her. She reached over and held Sam's cock tenderly as he stroked and petted her breasts.
His touch was sure and careful, and Joyce knew he wasn't a virgin. As Jason grew older so did his friends, and it was getting harder and harder to find virgins.
Even though Sam was experienced, he was impatient, and ran through the preliminaries quickly. In a few minutes he was between Joyce's thighs and she was welcoming him into her pussy. She wondered idly what number cock this was that she'd had in her life, and decided it would be too much trouble to try to count them up. Instead, she watched in the mirror as passion twisted her face. Fires leaped higher and higher in her, then blazed through her as she came and came and came. She felt Sam pouring his load of cum into her pussy and tightened the walls of her vagina around his pumping organ.
It was all over in a few minutes, and Sam was off her, his cock trailing an icy string of semen over her thigh.
Jason was ready and willing, and Joyce was able. "I want to put it up your ass, Mom," Jason said bluntly.
Joyce rolled over and got to her knees, feeling the bed sag as he knelt behind her. Then his cock was pushing at her rectum and she was fighting to admit it. This was the way she liked it best. She loved to have a big hot shaft ramming deep into her bowels. She looked in a mirror and watched the trim, hard staff sliding slowly into her. Jason reached around her and sank his fingers into her juicy pussy, and Joyce whimpered with pleasure. She could see Sam watching the process wonderingly, licking his lips. His cock was swelling again, and she knew she was going to get almost all the cock she could want.
Jason pistoned his cock in and out of Joyce's ass, and she let her head sink to the mattress as she began to come again, waves of juice pouring over Jason's fingers. The shaft burned through the tight ring of Joyce's asshole until she felt as if it were going to be blistered.
Jason rammed into her hard and locked his body against hers, pouring his semen into her guts with powerful pulses of his cock.
Joyce sighed, accepting his load as her own climax began to fade. It was good, so good, but nothing could ever compare with that stupendous birthday party.
Joyce felt her son withdraw his shaft from her butt, and rolled over just in time to accept Sam's cock into her dripping pussy. She was their plaything, their toy. It was going to be a long, wonderful night.
The morning might be lousy-they usually were-but that was tomorrow. Joyce refused to think of tomorrow.
