For "incest," The American College Dictionary offers the following definition: "The crime of sexual intercourse between persons related by blood or marriage within the degrees in which marriage is prohibited."
In the section on "Normal and Abnormal Sexual Behavior" in The Handbook of Psychiatry by Philip Solomon and Vernon D. Patch, the authors explain:
"Incest refers to sexual activity or coitus between members of the same family. It usually refers to coitus between father and daughter, mother and son, or between siblings, but it may involve other close relatives such as stepchildren or uncles. The ban against incest is one of the most stringent of sexual prohibitions in all cultures."
"Normally, oedipal incestuous strivings of childhood are gradually resolved and replaced by adult sexuality. If they remain dominant in adulthood, neurotic conflicts manifested by psychosexual disturbances and deviations may result. Owing to the social taboo against incest, an individual who actually carries out the incestuous wish is usually suffering from an ego defect and is often psychotic."
Mother and son sexual relationships are not uncommonly uncovered in clinical practice.
Mild incestuous behavior in siblings is common in preadolescence as sex play, and is harmless; if it occurs later, it may be an indication of serious neurotic conflict.
The future of the son in these mother-son cases is variable, but severe psychopathology is not as frequent as used to be thought.
In this, Erika Norman's newest novel, she again turns to the theme of mother and son incest. Her fictionalized account of this commonplace taboo-breaking sexual expression of love follows the slow degeneration of Honey Jacobson's moral inhibitions until she finds herself victim to her own young son's burgeoning physical presense.
That her young son Harold reminds her of her deceased husband in every respect, especially anatomical, only drives her more headlong into the free-flowing life of shame, sin and hedonistic pleasures.
How her wantonness, with the help of a patient, gentle, understanding-while still thoroughly masculine-professional man finally is brought under control is the climax of this powerful novel.
A deeper understanding of the incest taboo against mother and son sexual relations could only benefit us all.
THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Hard, his cock was enormous. It was almost too big, and it was virile and capable-looking and roped with heavy veins through which fresh hot blood surged, making it fill to even larger dimensions and throb with a vital life all its own.
Despite how morally shocking the sight was to her. Honey Jacobson could hardly draw her eyes away from the degrading scene brought to sharp focus in living color in the monitors of her hidden-camera television surveillance security system. Almost involuntarily, Honey found herself reaching down, her hesitant fingertips slipping far up under her dress and into the legband of her suddenly too-tight panties and touching her moist secret flesh.
They didn't call her Hot-Box Honey for nothing, thought the people who gave her the nickname were people in the customizing trade. In reality it meant a hot gear box, for ease of shifting in racers or in off-road vehicles. At thirty-five, Honey Jacobson was the undisputed queen of off-road vehicles in Southern California. Her extensive shop, Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis, was known to car buffs all over the world, and it was one of the largest operations of its kind anywhere.
The elaborate television security system hadn't been installed for any voyeuristic purpose and, originally, Honey had objected to hiding a camera there, in the men's toilet, of all places. She felt the men who worked in her shop were entitled to a little privacy.
It was the insurance company, directing the installation, who insisted, finally convincing Honey that the men would least expect one to be there and would, thereby, let down their guards. If they were involved in ripping the shop off, it would be first discovered in the secrecy of the men's crapper.
Hot-Box Honey's finger touched moisture where the freshly minted juices of her cunt were pushing out through the lips of it and gathering in the crack of her ass and making a damp spot grow steadily across the seat of her passion-pink bikini panties.
Her fingertip grazed the lips of her cuntal mouth and they fluttered noticeably to her touch, gaping slightly as if begging for her to slip her finger right on inside and stroke her palpitating clit.
She did. Touching the delicately sensitive passion flesh of her blood-engorged clitoris delicately at first, then more brazenly as the ecstatic sensations she was causing by the fleshy contact were transmitted to Honey's brain.
She gasped and reached for the television control knob with her free hand, unable to release the pleasant pressure on her clit with the other, and brought the zoom lens into play, centering the object of her fascination on the television screen and bringing it, again, into sharp, living flesh focus.
Horse Zumwalt's horse-like cock!
The arrogant young blond, Wilhelm Zumwalt, was almost a typical Nazi as far as Honey could determine ... and he was young. Anyone ten years younger than Honey was just a kid to her most of the time. That Horse Zumwalt was 6'3" and a solid 180 pounds, mostly muscle, didn't register as anything desirable to Honey. Not at all. His longish blond hair and sky-blue eyes didn't help any, either.
He was just too much man for her. Again, looking at the size of his enormously distended cockflesh confirmed her position. Too gross for words. Why, that revolting looking thing was at least ten inches long! The television lenses could be enlarging the size of his cock a bit for her, she couldn't be sure. But whatever its length, it was certainly more than any normal woman chould ever be expected to accommodate.
Hot-Box Honey preferred smaller built men. She wanted someone to be gentle with her and hold her warmly in their arms, naked and pulse-pounding and ready to make gentle, soothing love to her all night long. Someone whose cockflesh wasn't so rough looking or huge. Whose dick wasn't garlanded with veins of blood but was, still, almost boyish and virginal.
A man whose balls were there and big enough to please and pleasure her, but certainly not testicles as huge as Horse's. Each of them, separately, looked to her to be about as big as a turkey eggs, hanging full and heavy inside his coarsely haired ballsac. She suddcred at the thought of those huge manfuck balls banging relentlessly up against her asshole as Horse pounded his impossibly huge fuckshaft into her feverish cunt again and again.
Her finger deserted her clit and slid deep into the soft velvety depths of her cunt, worming around and stroking all of the walls, moving over the varying planes pf her secret inner flesh like passion's very own blowtorch, heating her already overheated fuck box to white hot intensity.
She gasped aloud and sighed, working her finger in and out of her cunt hole furiously, her eyes riveted to Horse Zumwalt's cock on the television monitor.
Horse was alone in the men's washroom, that was obvious. Honey had already been watching him for almost fifteen minutes. First he had opened his pants and uncoiled the limp length of his dick so he could let it hang down over his hand as he held it before the closest urinal. Horse grunted as the stream of his piss began slowly to appear, forcing open the cocklips at the head of his big wide dick with a sharp yellow stream that struck solidly against the back of the white porcelain urinal.
When he had finished pissing and forced out three sharp, short final splurts of yellow fluid, Horse, instead of putting his dick back inside his pants, opened them and pulled them down to his knees, and his soil-streaked white cotton briefs, too.
For just a minute Honey Jacobson thought that Horse might be actually posing for the camera, though no one but Honey and the man from the insurance company knew where it was for sure. Still, Horse never once took a position that blocked his dick flesh off from Hot-Box Honey's hot view. It was always right there in full sight, unfolding and unreeling like some fisherman's telescoping rod.
A rod of flesh pink manfuck.
Horse's cockhead was bigger and wider than anything Honey had ever seen before. It looked something like a huge apricot, only pinker, almost angry red in fact, where it blossomed out broadly at the end of his fuckshaft.
Honey could clearly see how it was almost divided, segmented into two halves of apricot and the single eye in the head of his huge dick, gaping and gasping now and then like the mouth of a big fish out of water, looked like the very end of the apricot.
Almost.
His cock looked like one of her favorite fruits, but Honey gagged at the comparison of thought. The very idea of getting her face close to that horrid appendage was revolting to her. She coughed and sputtered, gasping for air ... she was having another orgasm.
Her finger was buried solidly inside her cunt. She had paused with it right there, her hand firmly rubbing against her clit and the funky juices of her fuck flesh pouring out around her finger liberally, making the seat of her sweet little panties actually soggy and soiled beyond recovery. But what did the panties matter, compared to a cum as glorious as the one her talented finger was giving her tortured clitoris, all inspired by the sight of Horse Zumwalt's really fantastic fuck stick.
It wasn't that Horse was beating off. Not at all. It didn't seem that fist fucking was his objective. All he seemed to be doing was examing his massive genitalia, again and again.
He'd bend far back, hunched down so the camera could catch every wrinkle, every freckle of his secret sex flesh, and put his hand tightly up under his cock and balls, lifting all three of them out of the way. The camera could actually zoom in under Horse's hand.
Under Horse's cock and balls.
And slip almost right inside Horse's revolting old asshole.
Then Horse released one ball. Just one; his lowest testicle. Still holding his fuckshaft out of the way with the first hand, he turned his ball around and around, pointing it at the camera from every possible angle, running his fingers through his coarse, wiry red prick hairs, then letting his ball fall down, bouncing heavily under its own weight until it came to rest, finally.
Horse took his other ball, the higher one, and gave it the same treatment, still holding the huge bulk of his cock out of camera's way, until he was satisfied that his second ball was just as perfect as his first, then he released it also, allowing it to bob to a relaxed position there between his firm-fleshed, coarse haired thighs.
His cock!
His enormous horse cock!
How aptly he's named. Honey thought, forgetting completely that her own handle was Hot-Box Honey.
Horse took his overly enlarged cock and pointed it straight at the camera, hunching his hips forward fuck-fashion a couple of times. then turning to the profile and hip-hunching again, forcing his dick to extend itself out farther for yet another quarter inch of rigid, blood-filled manfuck flesh.
He turned his cock around slowly and lovingly, until the underside of it was pointed toward the camera, the gentle ridge line of darker flesh traceable from the root of his cock, there between his heavy balls, all the way out to the incredible apricot cockhead, before it disappeared and merged into pinker, hot-reder flesh that ended, finally, some three inches further out, in the form of a single one-eyed blush of masculine pride. The gaping mouth of his fuck stick.
Honey had another orgasm, just looking at the head of Horse's cock and watching as it, holding motionless, winked at her. The tiny slit just on the end of it seemed to grin and split wide and one huge heavy drop of pearly pre-cum oozed out and dribbled down the bottom side of his broad cockhead, leaving a glistening, snail-like trail of cum in its wake.
"Oh, God," Honey said, gasping and moaning aloud, her sounds growing completely inaudible and dribbling off into faint murmurings of uncontrollable passion.
Her finger came to rigid awakening inside her cunt and, even though it ached and pained from the unaccustomed bend and rigidity, she began moving it around again, massaging the soft, buttery depths of her cuntal mouth with her digit, swirling up the copious fluids and forcing more of them out, around her finger, to run down her hand to her wrist.
"Oh, nunnngh!" Honey hummed, hunching against her hand.
Her finger slipped easily in and out of the slippery cunt hole, each move striking against her clit that was standing out in rigid outline, rubbed so much it was becoming super-sensitized to the touch and just the merest pressure of her finger, sliding across it, would make her knees grow weaker and the shuddering start all over again.
"Oh, God," she said, her knees almost ready to give way beneath her, forcing her fucked-out body to fall, limp, to the floor.
Almost but not quite.
Slowly Horse began turning around on the television screen. He did it very slowly so it took a long time for the whole long length of his cock, now shown in profile, to turn away from Hot-Box Honey's hot gaze. Finally it was all gone from her sight, the big cock and the big balls and all. the tangled mass of almost red pubic hairs.
And Horse's ass was centered, perfectly, on Honey Jacobson's television screen.
Horse bent forward, awkwardly because of his pants and underwear binding his ankles together, forcing his ass up toward the camera. When it was pointed dead center toward the lens, Horse put a hand on either of his cheeks and slowly began pulling the hunky chunks of buttocks apart, opening the crack of his ass to the camera as easily as pulling the skin off a banana.
The whole feverish crack of his ass opened up before Honey's astonished gaze until the puckered brown rosette of his asshole was dead center of the screen.
Then his asshole winked at her.
She was sure she saw it. The whole clenched tight ring of his ass seemed to unpucker, like a camera shutter opening, until the hole of his anus opened wide and Honey was staring down into a dark tunnel of forbidden funkiness. She could almost smell the horrible, fetid odor of him.
Her mouth went suddenly dry and gaped open in astonishment. Somehow Honey had never even thought of anyone winking with their asshole. Certainly she had never thought of anyone being able to open their anus at will, or to hold it open as if posing for still cameras.
As she continued to watch, her fascinated gaze held fast to Horse's gaping asshole, he bent farther forward with his head until his face appeared betwen his wide-spread thighs, right beside his double mounded balls and big thick fuckshaft.
Horse winked at the camera in synchronization with the fluttering of his asshole.
Honey found herself having another orgasm. The tightly clenching muscles deep inside her cunt were clamped against her finger as if they would never let it go. Her juices were boiling inside her and reaching higher cum levels than ever before.
She was too weak from all the nervous sexual tension of the previous several minutes. Unconsciously she began wavering and her vision blurred. Honey put out her hand to steady herself against the edge of her desk.
Don't fall, she told herself, pulling her finger free of her still spasming cuntal mouth and wiping some of the funkiness off onto her already ruined bikinis.
She began a deep breathing exercise, trying to force herself back to what passed for normal to her, as she watched Horse straighten up and turn around again, facing the camera once more. His big cock had begun to weaken and grow limp, but it was still larger than any man's dick had any right to be.
Honey shuddered and dragged in a heavier breath, fighting back the nausea that accompanied the sight of Horse's shrinking sexflesh.
Finally his dick reached a size he felt might pass for normal so he, slowly and reluctantly, began pulling up his underwear. He snuggled the tell-tale gray cotton briefs up around his hips and, as a final gesture, carefully scooped his balls down under the tight elastic waistband, leaving his heavy, fleshy prick hanging out over the top of the elastic.
He bounced up and down, causing his cockshaft to flop around wildly, then he scooped it carefully down inside, reaching into his underwear to arrange the way it hung so it couldn't conflict too much with his two heavy balls, then Horse bent down and pulled up his pants, bringing them into position and zipping them up.
All of his fuck flesh was finally hidden from her.
Honey sighed deeply and began, finally, to relax, her deep breaths working now that his cock was hidden from view.
Without once looking back at the camera, Horse walked to the door of the men's crapper, his trim ass, buttock undulating, drawing her eyes to it like a sex magnet, until he went out of the door and the television screen showed her only the empty men's room.
Honey reached out and flipped the switch that turned the screen off. Exhausted, she fell forward, too, cradling her head on her arms. Her fuck finger was right under her nose and she inhaled the heady perfumes of her own pussy and could feel the moisture of her crotch against her cheek.
Oh, God, she thought. This is so awful. I need a man of my own so very much. A cock to have and hold and pleasure....
Honey had had her own man, once. Some sixteen years earlier. She'd just been a kid herself, almost, when she married Harold Jacobson, older than her by eight years but, as they said at the time, "a good catch."
A good catch, hell, she thought. He had been the single most disappointing experience of her entire lifetime, the way he ripped into her crudely, tearing into her flesh without the slightest regard for her feelings, her desires.
It was that way every day of their life, even after it was determined that she was pregnant, even her menstrual flow or her pregnancy didn't deter horny Harold from his fucking.
And their baby had been born and, before she left the hospital, her husband had filed for divorce, naming their landlord as her lover and calling her an unfit mother.
Harold won his lawsuit, of course. He knew the judge. He won their baby, too, and had him removed before Honey was released from the hospital. She never saw either of them again.
Fortunately there had been all that money settled on her and, investing it wisely, she was finally able to open the one little shop that specialized in upholstery and carpets for vans, only her business was so good it pyramided and she kept moving, changing locations, growing larger, until Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis came into being, a fantastically successful shop that was bringing in money faster than Honey could spend it, but she only had herself and the business to take care of.
No man. No cock. No love of her own.
Even her apartment, just an extension of her office, really, at the top of the main showroom, was built there so she could act as her own night watchman. Her insurance company had heartily approved of the physical plan of her living, working space, and the half city block the Oasis dominated.
If she had a man to share her success with, to share her body with, everything would be absolutely perfect for Hot-Box Honey Jacobson. As it was, her brief experience with Harold Jacobson when she had been but a teenager herself had all but spoiled her for anything but the most superficial male-female relationship.
She was afraid that every man she met was like her ex-husband, interested in only one thing, sinking his big hard cock into her sweet young body and emptying his cum out into her, quickly and cruelly, not even giving her time for her love juices to flow, to lubricate her violated cunt for love's own sweet passage of flesh within flesh.
A classic "wham bam, thank you, ma'am" male chauvinistic pig fuck.
Since the birth of the son she had never seen, no male had felt the pleasurable firepit of Hot-Box Honey's cuntal cavern. She had come close that time with the gentleman from the insurance company, when he had come out and inspected her apartment on the corner of the building over the off-road vehicle showroom, walking through the two-bedroom, two-bath unit from the living room to the fully functional kitchen with the big double doors opening directly into Honey's private Oasis office where her desk and her files and all the television equipment was located ... that time Honey had been tempted.
She had thought so often of having a man, the right man, to share her humble home with that she was almost willing to grasp at straws. But the solid fleshed insurance investigator had been nothing like straw at all. The minute it was obvious to him that Honey was receptive of a little roll in the hay, he turned on.
He became all male, hard-on and horny and hot to fuck. Just like that. Harold Sr. all over again. Honey had a little difficulty getting him out of the apartment without fucking her, too.
If anything, she had a slight fondness for her attorney, Rogers M. Dalton. He had always been so kind to her, taking care of all her legal matters and keeping her out of trouble with the authorities. Too bad she hadn't had him on her side way back then, when Harold was divorcing her and bringing in all those ridiculous lies before the court and actually making them stick.
Honey was sure, deep in her heart of hearts, that Rogers Dalton would be a man among men in bed. A lover of the very first order. A real man who would put her needs and her desires ahead of his hateful lusts and bring her to, at least arousal if not orgasm, before tearing into her to take his fill of her sensuous flesh.
But even in her fantasy of fucking with her attorney, Honey never allowed herself the slightest thought that he would tear into her cunt with his hot, hard cock. No indeed, he always slipped it to her very gently, until she was ready for it to begin the in-out rhythms as old and familiar as time itself.
Honey tried to shake the thoughts of her sexless condition out of her mind and get back to the present. She peeled her panties off and tossed them into the wastepaper basket. They were so soiled it would be useles attempting to clean them so she could use them again.
She sat back in her office chair, relaxing against the cool leather caress of her body, enjoying the way the seat seemed to cup he fragile buttocks lovingly. She squirmed around in the chair, examining the peculiar new sensations of her body and dress, without panties, against the fine glove leather upholstery.
Deciding that she couldn't keep her head in her crotch all the day, Honey reached out and turned some of the knobs operating the television security system. The one she just happened to turn on was the camera over the loading dock, where Horse Zumwalt worked.
Staring at his gross, hunky body brought the sharp clear image of his cock roaring back into her already exhausted fuck fantasies.
CHAPTER TWO
It was almost as if his pants were down around his ankles again. Once she had seen Horse Zumwalt's incredibly huge cock and balls, it was impossible for her not to see them stuck on him every time she looked at him after that. Regardless of what he happened to be wearing or not wearing at the time.
His cock stretched out in front of his flat belly well over half a foot. Actually her mind kept telling her it was more like a foot, but reason prevailed. No man had that much cock. Certainly no normal man did; why there wasn't a woman alive who could handle that much hot. hard manfuck pole jammed tightly into her unprepared pussy.
Honey Jacobson looked at Wilhelm Zumwalt closely on the television serene. Actually, in a piggish way, he wasn't really bad looking, but when you put his gross, overwhelming physical presence together with the mental attitude about life, and especially about the place of women, Horse Zumwalt received an instantaneous rejection from Honey.
He was the best shipping clerk she had ever had, though. More is the pity. Honey desperately wanted to fire the arrogant, crotch-fondling, overbearing male.
She tore her eyes away from him and looked at the driver of the Triad Trucking Company vehicle that was already loaded and ready to pull out, taking six of her very best custom outfitted vans off to a new-car dealer in Tucson.
The driver was somewhat shorter than Horse, and not nearly as heavy. Honey preferred the leaner look on her males. The perfect image of the perfect cock, in her estimation, was one of trimness, rather than girth.
She had never seen him before, even though the Arizona based Triad firm did lots of hauling to and from the Oasis. Still it was just as well. Honey could tell from the heavy comradeship that seemed to radiate outward from the two men. Horse put his arm warmly around the strange driver's shoulder and they both broke into laughter.
It was obviously something about fucking, Honey correctly surmised, judging from the gross way Horse began rubbing his crotch, stroking down in long movements, caressing his own fuckflesh.
The other driver climbed into the big Kenworth car hauler and closed the door, leaning out over the TRIAD sign to wave goodbye to Horse.
Honey watched Horse watch the big truck purr into life and move easily out onto Groveton Boulevard, heading for the cross-town freeway then out across the desert all the way to Arizona. , Horse turned back toward the hidden security camera and stroked his dick again. Honey was almost positive she could see the whole long length of the man's horsecock stretching out and taking definite shape along his well-muscled thigh.
"Goddamnit," Honey said aloud, the frustration of her too many unfucked nights catching up with her again.
Involuntarily, her unpantied bottom began moving around on the soft leather upholstery. Her skirt moved gently upward because of her hip movement until the bare skin of her naked buttocks came into contact with the caressing leather.
Honey sighed and moved her legs apart as wide as she could, stopped only by the arms of the big executive chair. Her cunt was still moist and oozie from the vision she had been forced to watch before of Horse's careless examination of his fuck flesh in the safety of the men's washroom.
She bent her head as far forward as she could without it becoming uncomfortable and looked down at her crotch. The pretty pink tissues of her pussy were passionately aroused and poking through the opening of her cuntal lips. The spread position of her legs seemed to force the lips to open further, exposing more and more of her secret inner flesh. From the angle of her vision, her clitoris stretched out like a tiny flesh shrouded finger, already filled with blood and tensing with anticipation.
Down lower she could see her fuck hole. The almost unused passion passageway of her pussy that so yearned for the right cock to fill it to overflowing with hot hard manflesh at first then oh, God, then, with sizzling hot freshly ejected mancum. The ultimate essence of lovemaking.
As she watched, the walls of her cunt contracted involuntarily and all her exposed flesh moved around, living its own involuntary life. It was hot-pink and moist and radiating a fever and an aroma that was designed to attract males, not Honey's solitary inspection.
The tiny trickle of fuck juices oozed outward from her pussy hole and trinkled down over her super-hot cuntal tissues to disappear under the crack of her ass where she was grinding it, surely, into the grain of the leather seat.
Already the little puddle beneath her was making her buttocks move around more rapidly, slipping and sliding on the slippery upholstery.
She could stand it no longer, the going without a cum. It was impossible to ignore the clarion call of her clitoris as it screamed volumes of unreleased agony inside her listening brain.
Honey sobbed audibly and let her eyes slip out of focus. They were still watching the television set where Horse was now leaving through some bills of lading on a clipboard. She hardly even saw his brutely masculine form any more, her attention was so urgently needed elsewhere.
Her cunt!
Her fuck-starved, cockless cunt!
As she blinked her eyes, closing Horse's last image out of her consciousness, Honey slipped her right hand forward, finger poised, and stroked it just once, feather-lightly, over the mouth of her exposed clitoris.
Her pussy spasmed violently in the first orgasm of the session and more cuntjuice dribbled out onto the expensive leather chair.
Honey gasped aloud at the pleasure, "Oh, God!" and began making little circles around her clitoris, massaging her cuntal flesh in earnest now, making her hips jerk and jump on the seat and her buttocks clinch together then release, together then release.
The little string of nonstop cums rocked her from side to side, both physically and mentally, and she discovered that she was humming deep inside her throat, a low-pitched purring like a contented cat.
A pussy cat.
Finally the feelings begn to get to be too good for her so she hunched her hips forward just to the edge of the chair. In that position her legs could open wider, further stretching apart the cuntal lips that usually closed protectively over the pulsating flesh of her fuck hole.
With plenty of room to operate, Honey let her finger ease inside her cunt and work up the lather just a bit.
Then a second finger moved all the way up into her fuck hole beside its mate.
A third finger moved into her widening cuntal crevice.
Then, much to her surprise, she moved the fourth finger all the way into her drooling snatch.
Can I get the thumb in, too? she asked herself mentally, folding her hand in upon itself and making room for her thumb between her fingers.
Gritting her teeth in pleasure pain. Honey slowly forced her hand back into her cunt, her thumb and all four fingers disappearing up inside her pretty pink pussy all the way to the last joints.
Try as she could, she couldn't move more of her hand into her fuck hole. Tiring of the attempt, it wasn't significantly more pleasurable than what she had been doing anyway, Honey pulled her hand out and raised it to her face, looking at the slick streaks of cunt juice glistening on it.
She smelled of her secret fluids, sniffing of the juices that were generated deeply inside her cuntal walls, then inhaling the heady fragrance gleefully, as if intoxicated in her own fuck smell.
Wonder what it tastes like? Hot-Box Honey thought, smelling her pussy scent.
To have some ardent lover eating out her cunt had long been one of her favorite fantasies. She could almost feel the touch of his tongue laving her clit repeatedly then slipping down lower to move, full-length, into her cunt until his nose banged again and again against her clitoris, bringing her more cums than she could handle all at once.
She tentatively reached out her tongue and touched the tip of it to her thumb, where the most of her pussy juice seemed to be gathered. Wow, that's good, she thought, and began licking at her hand, trying to gather up and savor all her fuck fluid she could. Each drop of it, going down her throat, seemed to signal the need for more to be manufactured inside her sheltered snatch.
The smell, combined withthe flavorings of her pussy juices, seemed to force Honey to rush into yet another orgasm. She tore her hand away from her face and hunched forward again, making room for her finger against her clit.
She was playing ring-around-the-rosy-nubbin when the telephone at her side begin to ring shrilly. For just a moment Honey though it was the sound of ecstasy going off inside her head, along with going off inside her spasming cuntal chamber because just at that frozen moment of time, her next orgasm began shifting into full speed.
Sobbing slightly, annoyed at the disturbance, Hot-Box Honey pulled her right hand out of her pussy and picked up the telephone with it. The odors of her fuck, now grown even headier, assailed her nostrils anew as she held the receiver up against her fragile little ear.
"Yes-s-s," she said, stuttering slightly, gasping for breath from all her exhaustive sexual activity.
"Miss Jacobson?" a voice said into her ear, 'is that you?"
"Yes, who is this, please?" Honey said, forcing her voice to try to sound normal.
"This is Rogers Dalton, Miss Jacobson," he said. "Are you all right?"
"Why of course. Why shouldn't I be all right?" Honey asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Attorney Dalton said. "Something about your voice made me ask. You sound ... well, perhaps a bit under the weather."
"It's nothing, really," Honey said. "Perhaps just the trace of a head cold."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "I dc hope-it clears up shortly. Colds can be really bad this time of the year."
"I'll be extra careful," Honey said, turning her head aside to sniff directly against her hand holding the phone, dragging the funky sex scents of her deep into her lungs.
"I telephoned you with hesitation, Miss Jacobson.." he began, allowing his words to grow faint and trail off into nothingness.
"Yes," Honey Jacobson said, her mind detecting something amiss with her attorney, "do go on...."
"I've spent over half an hour rehearsing what I've got to say to you, Miss Jacobson," he said, "but there just doesn't seem to be an easy way to begin."
"Okay, Mr. Dalton," Honey said, the scent of her snatch suddenly gone from her nostril, her attention devoted completely to the man at the other end of the telephone line, "just jump into it and let me have it squarely."
"Yes, perhaps that's the best way," he said, but he still paused for a bit before continuing.
"Do you have a son, Miss Jacobson?" he asked.
"Well, yes," Honey said, but even she had to think for a moment before saying those two words, "only I've never seen him. Funny, but he's almost entirely out of my mind.
"Yes," he said, "that would support the data I have."
"Why do you ask?' Honey said, her curiousity teased alarmingly.
"I hope it doesn't become too inconvenient for you, Misser, perhaps I should say Mrs. Jacobson?" he said.
"Yes, yes, go on," she said, "only, surely by now, Mr. Dalton, you could risk trying to call me Honey."
"In that case, it's Rogers here, Honey," he said, but rushed right on with his story. "Your ex-husband has just recently been killed in a hunting accident up in Canada. Your son, Harold Jr. was with him at the time, though he's not harmed. Nothing that is beyond a little shock at seeing his father dead from a gunshot wound, a bit messy, I suspect."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Honey said, still wondering what Rogers Dalton's comments could really have to do with her.
"Of course, as the only living relative, even though the original court decision, as I understand, took the child away from you, you are still the natural mother and, regrettably, will now have to resume guardianship of your son."
"What?" Honey said, the words, rather than being disappointments to her, were filling her with a new hope, a fresh purpose in life. At last she might have the chance to be a real mother.
"Yes, he'll be arriving here in my office on Tuesday afternoon around 3:30. It'd be best if you could be here then. There are a few routine forms to be signed, nothing too difficult, then Harold Jr. can go home with you."
"Oh, my God," Honey said, hardly believing her ears. "This isn't some kind of cruel joke, is it?"
"No, I'm afraid it's all too true. As of next Tuesday afternoon, you will have resumed full responsibility for your fifteen-year-old son."
"Oh, but what'll I do?" Honey asked. "I've never been a mother before. I don't know the first thing about it. How to help him with his schooling, what clothes to buy for him, how to feed him...?"
Rogers began laughing, then stopped to say, "Hey, Honey, don't get too excited about all this. The boy's fifteen years old already. In some places, that's already well into manhood. I don't think you'll have too much trouble coping. Chances are, he'll tell you how he wants most things. If I remember correctly, fifteen year olds are not only pretty demanding but they're also doing a lot of rapid growing."
"Oh, but there's hardly anything on hand here to eat," Honey said.
"Then I suggest you make a trip to the grocery and stock up, Honey," Rogers said.
"Growing boys can eat everything they get close to."
Just as he said those words, Honey's hot-box spasmed, all by itself, and a little chain of spontaneous cums fluttered along the fuck channel of her well-lubricated cuntal walls.
Eat anything? The words flashed through Honey's mind in a depraved, lecherous way. Oh, God, not that. Don't let me start having sexual fantasies about a little child I've never even seen. Especially about my very own little boy. My son. Christ, that's incest.
The final degradation, the foulest of sins.
INCEST! A mother fucking her own son, the flesh of her flesh, the blood of her blood. ' The little cums stopped tormenting her pussy and the rippling pleasures subsided quickly.
Rogers Dalton hadn't even noticed she'd been away from their conversation for the length of a cum.
"Then it's settled?" he asked. "You'll be here Tuesday afternoon to make the necessary arrangements and pick your son up?"
"Oh, yes, Rogers," Honey said. "Right now I can't think of anything that could stop me."
"It'll be a pleasure to see your anyway, Honey," Rogers said, trying to prolong their conversation. "I've been looking around for an excuse for some time now, but you just seem to never need your attorney's attention."
Honey was flattered, of course. If she only had nerve enough to tell her handsome attorney just exactly how much of his attention she'd like to have. He was, after all, one of the very few men who inspired kindly thoughts in Honey Jacobson's otherwise fucked-up head.
She had always seen him as being extraordinarily kind and gentle. She had even spent some time wondering what he looked like, his body, naked, Surely his genitalia would not be anything like the debased appendages attached to Horse Zumwalt. No, it just wasn't possible, Honey was sure that Rogers Dalton's cock would be just right for her, alwasy ready to please her, to do whatever it was Honey wanted her man's dick to do for or to her ... but gently.
There's no way he could try to just jam it up inside her, dry and harsh and ripping, tearing into her fragile and unprepared cuntal tissues.
The little throbbings began anew, starting at her clit-tip and vibrating down the length of it to her mons then spiraling around in little circles, moving around and around the soft buttery tissues of her cuntal wall to reach the very mouth of her womb, and she spasmed into wild new orgasms. They were so strong that for a moment she lost control and began mumbling incoherently, making audible sounds.
"Honey," Rogers said, "are you sure you're all right?'
"Oh ... yes, yes," she said, falteringly. "Just a momentary chill, it'll pass."
"Well, do take care of your cold," he said. "I'd hate to think of anything marring the perfection of your charming being."
"Oh, Rogers," she said, her voice trilling and her clit zinging, "you say the nicest things."
"Perhaps we can get together soon, Honey," he said, "for dinner. But in any case, I'll see you on Tuesday."
The days seemed to fly by for Honey, knowing something exciting and world altering was going to happen to her on Tuesday afternoon. She had almost ignored her business, cleaning and rearranging things in the apartment. She wanted to make absolutely sure that eveything was perfect for little Harold.
She had even painted the smaller bedroom, the one the child would use. She hesitated about sticking some cute decals of birds and animals around for him to look at, rightly assuming that the boy was already way beyond that stage in his development. Then she went to the big Safeway supermarket down the street from her home-business-combination and stocked up on everything she thought the boy might like to eat. It cost her a fortune, too, what with today's grocery prices. She made a mental note to check into raising some of her own prices at the Oasis to help offset her additional living expenses. Inflation everywhere.
As time grew closer for her appointment at Rogers Dalton's downtown attorney's office, Honey began to be nervous and apprehensive. She took a long, relaxing bath in her tub, leaning back against the almost cold porcelain and letting the foamy lather soak into her skin until she felt squeaky clean all over.
She only had fleeting and momentary sex thoughts, which was very uncharacteristic of Honey Jacobson. Surely it was becuase the excitement of her approaching motherhood was throwing her entire system out of whack with its normal routines.
Still, she was thankful. Her bath was almost more relaxing without the usual chain of self-induced orgasms, getting her all funky way up inside her cunt where the juices gathered. After a beat-off bath, it was customary for Honey to take a cleansing bath and a lingering, faintly lemon-scented douche to make sure her pussy wasn't offensive to all the people who were not going to get within sniffing distance of it.
But her bath was finished, finally, and she checked the time on her dressing table clock: plenty of time left to dress and drive to Roger's office, she thought.
Nevertheless, she rushed through her drying, leaving the thick fluffy turkish towel draped over the shower door to dry out a bit before being dumped into the dirty laundry. She turned her high speed, professional quality hair dryer on full force and worked it through her hair, taking care of the few strands that had soaked up some of the water from her tub.
Playfully, she turned the nozzle of the hair dryer down until it pointed at her pussy, making the delicate blonde-to-red strands of her cunt hair writhe around like trees in a hurricane. The hot jet of air, blasting against her cuntal lips, stirred a faint rise of passion in her so, recognizing the telltale signs of arousal, Honey quickly diverted the airflow away from her cunt before the mouth could gape open enough for the hot air to caress her clitoris.
She shuddered playfully and turned her hair dryer off, preferring to finish the job with her large silver-handled brush. She watched the gentle rise and fall of her breasts in her dressing table mirror as she worked the brush through her long, casually styled blonde hair.
They're pretty fine looking tits, she thought, admiring the gentle curve of them that uplifted the bulk of her breasts and pointing the areolas and fingertip-sized nipples outward at slight angles to the center line. The dark circles of her areolas weren't brown at all, but were rather a very dark rose, in keeping with her extremely delicate complexion. The hard pointy nipples were just slightly redder than their rosette backgrounds.
Red and sensitive and very eager to have someone kissing them. To, Oh, God, have someone nursing on them like a baby, giving to Hot-Box Honey the sensation of motherhood she had been deprived of sixteen years earlier.
With her hair finished, Honey began selecting the clothes she would wear to Dalton's office. It was no simple task. Everything she took out of her closet underwent close examination.
Will he like me in this? Perhaps this dress would be better....
Finally she settled on a casual-cut silk shirt of a blue paisley design and a darker blue Guatemala-cotton skirt. The two went very well together. She definitely set aside underwear for the ocasion, even a bra. Sometimes she liked to go out without one and feel the free movement of her breasts; they were particularly sensitive rubbing up against the silk shirt she'd selected. Then, at other times, especially when she was feeling particularly vulnerable, she wouldn't go outside her apartment without a bra on, offering some mental security at least.
All that and her new brushed leather walking Earthshoes, and Honey felt ready to face the world.
She quickly put them all on, the black lace bikini panties with the provocative embrodiery star pattern and black lace matching bra. The blue satin half slip followed by the shirt and skirt. When she decided all her seams were straight, her shirt tucked in just so and open at the neck so the tops of her pale breasts would show, Honey was-almost satisfied with her reflected image.
Selecting a pair of neutral Peds that would just cover her feet inside the walking shoes, Honey put them on, then the shoes, lacing them securely and tying off the bows.
Finished at last, she took one final glance into her mirror.
Some make-up? she asked herself, then decided against it. Honey seldom wore anything of a cosmetic nature, not even cologne. Certainly no lipstick or nail polish. She had lots of problems thinking of herself as something other than a natural person.
Still, there was something missing, some final adornment. What?
Of course, my necklace should do it, she thought, reaching into her jewelry case and selecting a gold chain that was neither too delicate nor too bulky for her physical characteristics, holding as a pendant a five-dollar USA gold piece dated 1854. It had been a gift from her father, many years before.
With it around her neck and hanging down to where the gold coin would just graze the tops of her breasts, she finally approved of her reflection. The gold coin, glittering in the light, added the perfect accent. Not only did it draw attention-to her flawless breasts and creamy white skin, but it added just a subtle touch of richness; the gold never failed to impress, somehow.
Honey smiled at herself and brushed aside one derelict strand of blonde hair before reaching for her purse and walking away from her dressing table.
She checked the time again. 2:45. Christ, I've wasted over half an hour messing around with my clothes. I better get a move on or I'll be late.
Walking through her kitchen, Honey opened the connecting door into her private office, making sure it was locked behind her. She fumbled with a few papers for a couple of minutes and flicked the row of switches that ran the television monitor through the array of hidden cameras, briefly checking the activity being covered by each of them.
Wilhelm Zumwalt was standing inside the main work area and looking directly into the television camera, as if through some uncanny sixth sense he could tell that Hot-Box Honey was looking directly at him. Just to make sure, he reached down and slowly, but definitely noticeably, began stroking the long length of his limber cock.
Angrily, Honey flicked the switch, cutting Horse off from her view.
She cursed him and her fate that forced her to come into contact with him as she picked up the final bills of lading for the day and left the office, pushing the door closed behind her. She seldom checked to see if the office door was locked, unlike her unfailing routine with the apartment whenever she was out of the building.
With the bills of lading in her hand, Honey moved down the stairway, holding onto the open-sided railing and looking down across the hum of workers below her. The vast warehouse-type structure was alive with big fancy vans and off-road vehicles, each of them being somehow altered, bringing in large sums of money to the Oasis every day.
Horse Zumwalt saw her coming down the stairs and moved toward her, reaching the bottom step just as Honey did herself. He saw the bills of lading in her hand and knew she would have to see him anyway. He was just making things easier for her.
Or was he?
Scarcely had Honey's foot touched the cement floor of the work area when Horse was right there, against her.
He was actually pushing himself against her. The fatty flesh bulge of his cock and balls was grinding into her hip, from the side, and she could feel the feverish heat of it and a gentle pulsebeat that seemed to be throbbing against her sensitive flesh.
Perhaps it was her very own heartbeat, but Honey doubted that. She stuck out her arm, the hand holding the bills of lading, and pushed them into his hands, pushing his body back and away from hers at the same time.
"Oh come on, baby," Horse said, his free hand already stroking the bulging length of his cock, clearly visible through his thin khaki wash pants that were almost threadbare around his crotch from so much heavy self-caressing, "you know I got somethin' good for you."
Honey fought back a heavy wave of nausea that surged through her stomach and started upward, threatening to force its way out of her throat in the form of vomit at any moment.
"How dare you!" she said, indignantly, her clear sky blue eyes glaring defiance at the brute.
"Get off your high horse, baby," Wilhelm said. "You know what I got, and you know it's exactly what you want."
"Why-why.." Honey began sputtering, unable to make a coherent sentence.
"So stop fighting it. What you need is a little of this, like every day. Say tonight, when I get off work, you and me, we can just slip up to your place and have us a real orgy.
Honey slapped him hard, right across the face, and ran away from him. Several of the nearby workers looked up at her, astonished that she would do anything so radical. Fortunately, especially for Horse, they had been standing completely out of ear-shot from any of the workers, so no one knew what they had been talking about.
Horse broke into a broad smile and began laughing loudly to further cement his position, causing the workers to think that it had all been a joke.
Honey could hear his laughter ringing after her as she walked out of the building and into the parking lot. Her car was the one closest to the door, in her special marked-off and designated parking spot.
It wasn't much, but it was exactly what Honey Jacobson wanted for personal transportation, besides that, it was a tax writeoff for the Oasis, as it doubled for an emergency delivery vehicle.
It was a Datsun pick-up truck, a king cab, with a 5-speed gear box and a special low-rider camper shell. Naturally the whole truck had been worked over by the crew at the Oasis. Knowing it was the boss's pet, they took special attention to fit the boot in that joined the back window of the cab to the front window of the camper shell, so she could just crawl straight through to the back whenever she wanted to.
There was special carpeting, too, throught he whole cab area and all the way back through the truck bed to the rear door, and two lush. luxurious leather bucket seats. All in all, including the special three-toned brown paint job, Honey's Datsun was one honey of a Lil' Hustler.
She jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door closed behind her, still seething from Horse's outrageous proposition. As she jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, firing the 2000 cc engine to life, she was sure she could still fell the touch of his cock there against her where it had seared its imprint indelibly into the flesh of her right side.
"Oh, how could he?" Honey said aloud, then lapsed into reverie. That was the filthiest thing I've ever had to endure. Oh, why can't I get up enough nerve to fire him? I wish he wasn't such a good shipping clerk. Though I'll have to fire him after this. There's no way I can tolerate his having actually pushed that disgusting cock of his right up against me.
Honey shifted into reverse and zoomed out of her spot, without even looking behind to see if the way was clear. Fortunately for her it was, and she made the maneuver without incident. She ground the gears into first and, peeling rubber, flew out of the parking lot and into the traffic flow of Groveton Boulevard.
Three blocks down the street she took the on-ramp up to the cross-town freeway.
The digital clock mounted into her dashboard said 3:05.
There's still plenty of time to get to Rogers', she thought, trying to shake all remnants of Horse's outrageous actions out of her memory.
But they wouldn't budge. The more she fought to eliminate them, the more solidly they seemed to appear to her. Especially the solid imprint of the whole long length of his cock against her legflesh.
Oh, God, she said, sighing and surrendering herself to the inevitable session that was to follow.
Many times she had driven down the freeways, masturbating. Jerking off, as she thought of it, pulling the tweaking of her tender clitoris as the Datsun truck hummed down the highway.
She shifted forward and, using her left hand only, managed to work her black panties down and off her feet. It just wouldn't do to have them tangled up when she needed to hit the clutch or the brake for any reason.
With the clingy black lace fabric off her, her pussy seemed to begin breathing and taking in gulps of air until the lips of it started moving slowly apart, all by themself, and the juicy flow of her cuntal fluids began gathering just at the edge of the lips and making her clit moist and ready, moving on down through the crack of her ass to make it slimy and slick, hunching slightly against the soft leather upholstery of the ass-grabbing bucket seat.
Honey checked her distance from front to back, using the rearview mirror, gauging where she stood with the other vehicles on the freeway. Fortunately traffic was quite light, the rush hour not yet upon the city, and Honey had few indeed cars to worry about.
Once a big truck had pulled up beside her and the driver, seated much higher than Honey, had a perfect view through her window and right into her crotch where her finger-fucking was easily visible as her digit worked frantically in and out of her slickly gaping cuntal mouth.
She had finally recognized what was happening and had become very embarrassed, zooming away from the truck and not even finishing the much-needed masturbation. That time. She checked for trucks to make sure nothing would interrupt this crosstown sex drive.
The coast was clear. Honey lifted her skirt up and bunched it around her waist, not wanting to soil it by wrinkling it or getting it all cum streaked with her pussy juice. The slip, too, was tucked up out of the way.
The juice was flowing quite freely and the clit becoming more and more blood engorged, just like a tiny covered up cock, and she continued to toy with it as long as she could bear the pleasure-pain. Her orgasm grew mightily around her.
Just at the peak of the muscle-rippling sensation, Honey allowed her finger to desert her clit and slide, full length, down into the searing depths of her fuck hole.
"Oh, God," she said, moaning aloud and hunching her hips forward against the slick sex-wet leather. Her foot accidentally pushed down on the accelerator and the truck jetted forward rapidly until she could bring it back under control.
Only she couldn't bring her orgasm back under control. It kept spasming around her finger, cunt-milking it in violent little eruptions of cum juice and pussy passion, until Honey began to feel decidedly week in the knees.
Then she saw the sign overhead: Downtown exit-I mile.
Reluctantly Honey pulled her finger clear of her cunt and grabbed for some tissues. She always had a handy box of white Kleenex nearby. In no time at all she had wiped her finger, her cunt, and, as well as she could from her awkward position, the seat under her, free of the copious flow of her cuntal juices. Satisfied that all was almost in order-Honey knew she could down her panties at the very last moment before leaving the car at Dalton's office-she tried to breathe normally and took the Downtown Exit ramp, almost catching the light at the corner of West Broadway where she had to turn left.
By the time she had covered the final six blocks to Attorney-in-Law Rogers M. Dalton's fancy, expensive office, Honey was breathing regularly and part of the high flush of her complexion was receding.
As she pulled to the curb in front of Rogers' office building and brought the little Datsun truck to an easy parked position, she reached simultaneously for her tiny little black lace bikini panties. She hardly even smelled her cunt at all as she left the truck.
CHAPTER FOUR
In the hallway right outside Rogers Dalton's office was large reception area containing, among other things, a ladies' room. Honey remembered it with thanks and rushed inside, using a paper towel, wet with hot water, to surface douche her juiced-up pussy. When she had it as clean as she could get it using the disintegrating paper towel, she tossed the used waste aside and washed her hands thoroughly, finally sniffing at her dried hand for telltale signs of her recent finger fucking.
She couldn't detect a trace of her cuntal juices still lingering on her anywhere.
A last minute adjustment of her silk shirt, opening just one more button at the top to show more breast flesh, Honey Jacobson was ready to face her attorney and her unknown son. She could hardly wait to see the little boy who was flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood.
She fluffed at the long strands of her pale blonde hair then smiled, practicing her reaction at seeing little Harold, and left the public ladies' room in slightly better condition than she had first entered it.
Amelia, Rogers' receptionist, had been expecting Honey.
"Good afternoon, Miss Jacobson," she said, smiling in a much-practiced fashion. "Mr. Dalton is expecting you. You're to go right into his office."
"Thank you, Amelia," Honey said, returning the receptionist's smile with one that was a bit more genuine. Perhaps it was that Amelia detected a rival in Honey, someone who could score with Rogers before she had a chance to get her gold-digging hooks into him and lock up his fortune along with his fine gentle masculine frame, all for herself.
Well, Honey knew she was definitely no competition, especially for someone as glamorous as the sexy Amelia Roper.
Honey shrugged off her thoughts about the attractive brunette and pushed at Rogers' private office door, not bothering to knock. As she stepped inside the room, Rogers saw her and looked up from his desk.
"Honey," he said, as if he hadn't even been expecting her. "My, but you're looking particularly beautiful this afternoon."
"Ohhh, Rogers," Honey said, genuinely thrilled at her attorney's flattery.
"No, I really mean it. Honey," he said. "Perhaps it's the anticipation of meeting your son Harold that's doing it for you. Whatever the case, it should happen every day. You're positively radiant."
Honey blushed and sat down in the chair across from Rogers' desk, the one he indicated for her to take with a smooth motion of his left hand. "Just a few minutes more. Honey," he said. "There is the formality of signing these forms."
"What are they?" she asked, picking up the first of several sheets of paper he had placed before her.
"Oh, just routine," he said. "You can trust me in this matter completely. There's no need even to read them over. Just sign each where I've placed the little red X's.
"Here?" she asked, pointing to one of his marks.
"Yes, that's right," he said, "but be sure to press down hard, the form's in triplicate."
"I'll do my best, Rogers," Honey said, pressing down firmly with the ballpoint pen Rogers had given her along with the sheaf of papers.
"That's just fine," he said, checking the carbon copies then, without her knowing what he was doing, leaning far forward to peer down her shirt top, past the shining five-dollar gold piece and right down into the lush valley between her fine firm breasts.
He could feel a throbbing deep within his loins right at the base of his cock where the root of it was buried deep within his warmly passionate manflesh. Honey never failed to bring about that reaction in him. He knew that, if he didn't resist with all his might, his dick would soon begin lengthening, stretching out and growing more firmer until he had a rip-roaring hard-on. An erection that would not leave his pulse-pounding prick until he had, at least within a mental fantasy, sunk the entire long hard length of his blood-filled manfuck stick into the very depths of her soft buttery cunt, forcing the lips of it back and open and letting her clit just bump up against the big hard bone of his pubic mound.
Honey finsihed with the last signature and passed the final sheet of triplicate forms back to Rogers. He started to stand up to take them from her but changed his mind, certain that she could see the rigid outline of his hard cock poking a tent out in the front of his pants. He wasn't quite ready for her to know how completely just her close physical presence turned him on and enflamed his lustful desires.
Honey smiled at Rogers as he took the papers from her. His long, firm masculine fingers touched against hers gently and lingered there for a moment as their hands made contact. She could feel the warmth of his strong maleness all the way down into her crotch. Where she had just recently washed away the stickiness that had gathered there matting the blonde pubic hairs with funkiness, she could feel the first new flush of reawakened vitality cause the cuntal juices to begin seeping out anew.
Oh, he's such a fine, gentle person, she thought. I wonder if he could ever turn on to me. How thrilling it would be if I could just get him all flustered and excited. Maybe even give him an erection.
Honey giggled inside her head at the thought, and the one that followed it: I wonder how big his cock is. Surely it's nothing like that disgusting horse dick hung on Wilhelm Zumwalt.
Oh, Christ, Rogers, be soft and gentle and understanding with me. I really need someone to love, really make love with me.
Please, Rogers, be the man, the cock for me....
If he had the power to read her mind, he would definitely not be doing what he was, trying to force thoughts of her lustful looking body out of his head so his roaring cock would relax a little, at least enough so as not to embarrass him when he stood up.
Finally he thought he had it under control and, cautiously, under the desk so she couldn't see, he angled it down at a more comfortable direction and, smoothing the tent out in his pants, he stood up, finally daring to let his crotch face her head-on inspection.
Honey looked him over very good, standing there in front of her, and she liked everything she saw. His brown hair had just the faintest traces of gray at the temples. It made him look very distinguished but, as he was only forty years old, he was probably touching it up with gray to gain the confidence of his clients. At five foot ten, his one hundred seventy pounds was very nicely distributed indeed. Trying as hard as she could, she was just barely able to make out the faintest trace of the outline of his cock, and what she could see of it, she approved enthusiastically.
His brown eyes seemed to be probing into her, perhaps into her breasts, she couldn't tell for sure. Or maybe they were trying to hide a secret lustful desire from her.
Oh, Rogers, what do I have to do to get you into bed with me? she thought, standing up to face him squarely.
"Uh-uh," she began, struggling for words, "about, uh-Harold?"
"Oh, of course," Rogers said, blushing slightly. Thoughts of fucking Hot-Box Honey hanging heavily in his thoughts. "I'd almost forgotten why you're here."
"That's all right, Rogers," she said, "but I would like to see him, if it's convenient."
"Convenient?" he said, and laughed. "Of course it is. He's right next door, in my inner office, waiting."
"Oh," Honey Jacobson said, now that the moment was at hand, reservations by the truck load seemed to descend upon her. She felt weak and unsteady and clutched at the back of her chair for support. "He's ... that close?"
"Yes, right in there, waiting," Rogers said. "Would you like to go in alone and introduce yourself? Or would you prefer to have me do it for you?"
Honey thought for a moment, trying to regain her strength. "Well, perhaps it would be easier if I just went in by myself and talked to him," she said.
"Just as you want it, Honey," Rogers said, smiling, trying to give her confidence for the unusual ordeal she was certainly facing.
"Do you think I should knock first?" she asked.
"Perhaps," Rogers said. "You know, it's no more easier for the boy than it is for you. He'd probably like a moment's warning."
"I suppose you're right," Honey said, walking reluctantly to the connecting door, then pausing again.
After several silent minutes had passed, Rogers smiled encuragingly. "Go ahead, knock," he said, "you've got to do it some time, you know?"
"Of course," Honey said, forcing a smile that she didn't really feel, then, before she could change her mind again, she knocked three times on the door and, without further hesitation, opened it and walked right into the connecting office.
Honey closed the door behind her, staring in fascination across the room.
He was standing there looking at her.
Her son. Hot-Box Honey's little boy, and he was afraid.
At fifteen years of age, Harold E. (for Edward) Jacobson, Jr., was already one hellofa little man. Actually, Honey found it difficult to use the word "little" even in her mind, in association with her son. Certainly he was not the child she had somehow expected to find waiting in the office for her. Not by any means.
Young Harold was already taller than his mother by at least half an inch and he was nowhere near through growing. He outweighed her, too, by a couple of pounds, rounding out at one hundred fifteen ... this week.
He had his father's jet black hair, although it was fuller and cut longer than she had ever seen Harold Senior's hair, almost but not quite reaching her son's already broad shoulders. He had deep green eyes, too, also like his dad's.
Actually, there was little or nothing of him that reminded Honey of herself. He was almost totally his father's son.
Oh, God, don't let that be so, Honey thought, crying out inside her head an anguish. He can't be just like his father. If nothing inherited from me shows, please, God, let it be inside my son. He can't be the same rough, uncaring, overbearing monster his father was.
Please, God, she prayed, let him be slow and gentle and considerate of whatever woman he's making love to ... with....
His shoulder were broad already, showing the promise of the man yet to come, narrowing down to a fine, trim waist. His hips were narrow and masculine already and, Honey was sure, his pants only covered a near perfect frame of forming muscles and solid masculine flesh.
Her mind allowed her a faint speculation as to the size and shape of his genitalia. How would his sweet young virginal cock look to her? His innocent, as-yet-untested balls?
Oh, God, will I ever actually see them?
Touch them?"
Honey shuddered at the thought and, uncertain as to what to do or say, she slowly raised her arms up and out, as if reaching for him, or providing shelter within her arms.
The mother's arms that had never held her son.
"Harold...." she said, tentatively, "I'm your mother."
He had been standing, all the time she had been examining and undressing him with her eyes, fondling his virginal cock and balls, doing nothing, staring back at her in complete consternation.
Somehow he had expected someone much older and more ... well, more matronly looking. Why, Honey wasn't even old enough to be anyone's mother, much less his. She looked like some of the chicks in his junior high school class, not like a full grown woman.
True, her breasts did look a bit fuller than the girls at school did, and she was more sure of herself, which was obvious from the way she carried herself.
For months now, Harold had been fighting off growing sensations that seemed to radiate outwardly from his testicles, or somwhere deeper, beneath them, buried in his groin. The sensations came back to plague him again as he looked at his youngish mother. Any minute, he knew, the blood would start to flow into the heavy hanging tube of his boycock and fill it up, make it hard and throbbing and uptilting.
Oh, no, not that, he thought, fighting his natural instincts, his inbred desire to mate, to take his unused cock and do with it what Nature wanted him to do with it.
To fuck, and fuck and fuck and fuck some more.
All the wonderful sex things he had never done-yet-but had begun to originate, spontaneously, inside his fertile brain.
The moment she opened her arms and offered herself to him, the warmth and security his feverish head, he cast all caution to the winds.
"Mother," he said, the word forming on his tongue with difficulty. It was a word he had never yet had a chance to use in all of his fifteen young years of boyhood.
"Yes, dear," Honey said, "but that sounds so strange to me, somehow."
Harold had rushed across the room, but so had Honey, and they met not quite halfway, crushed into each other's arms, grasping and hugging and kissing frantically. Tears poured freely from both of them, intermingling on their cheeks, their lips.
"You're really my mother," Harold said, unbelieving.
"I think you'd better try calling me Honey, dear," she said, "just like everyone else." She deliberately tried to ignore her nickname of Hot-Box, certain that little Harold would discover the abomination soon enough for himself.
"Honey," he repeated after her, savoring the taste of the word in his mouth. "Yes, it seems to fit you."
"Funny," she said, somewhat pensively, "your father said that exact thing to me, once, before everything went bad with us."
"I don't know anything about that, Honey," he said, "and I don't think I want to-not yet, at any rate, so let's just start all over again...."
"No, dear," she said, "we can't do that. You see, we never started ever before. There is no 'again'."
"Yes, I see," young Harold said, hardly even aware that he was deliberately pushing his cheek tightly against her right breast and breathing in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of her feverish titties.
"So this is the real beginning, without recriminations, without hostilities...." she said.
But he interrupted, " ... and without silly old restrictions."
"Of course, dear," Honey said, ruffling her hand through his fine black hair and pushing him, gently, back away from her body that was growing almost too warm from their physical contact.
She was laughing when the door opened behind her and Rogers Dalton joined them.
"Well," he said, "I see the both of you're getting along just fine."
"We certainly are, Rogers," Honey said, straightening up Harold's hair for him while the boy just beamed, rapturously, into her fondly smiling face.
"She's great," Harold said, turning toward Dalton.
"I thought I told you that," Rogers said.
"Well, you did," Harold said, smiling, "but I didn't think you meant great when you said it."
"Then you know now that I meant it when I said it," he said.
"I'll never doubt you again, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, the proper tone of respect in his voice for his mother's friend and attorney.
"Glad to see you two getting on so well," Honey said, interrupting their conversation. "Perhaps this means we'll be seeing a great deal more of you, Rogers?"
Momentarily, thinking of Honey minutely examining his naked body, his hefty cock and balls, Rogers blushed. Stammering, he found his way back into the conversation.
"That'd be my pleasure, Honey," he said, relaxing slightly.
"You're always welcome at my house. You know that, Rogers," she said.
"Oh, yes," young Harold put in, "please come see us."
"Well, I certainly don't need more of an invitation than that," he said, leaning over and looking, again, down into the crevice between Honey's deliciously edible looking breasts, trying to sniff out her secret, hidden sexual fragrance.
Honey detected the area of his gaze and blushed, unconsciously toying with the collar of the silk shirt as if trying to close it protectively over her breasts that were, for some reason, beginning to heave and tingle, the nipples becoming erect and poking against the delicate black lace ridges of her frail little bra.
"You've been real swell to me, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, sticking his hand out, very grownup-like, to grasp Rogers' hand in a firm handshake. "Thank you very much."
Rogers almost wanted to blush again, the gratitude and genuine warmth radiating out from the little boy was almost overwhelming. It was almost as if the child had transferred the affection he had felt for his head father to the virile attorney-at-law.
Whatever, it felt good to Rogers Dalton, and what felt good to him, he was determined to hold on to.
"Any time at all, Harold," he said, returning the boy's frank approval and solid, man-like handshake. "Don't hesitate to phone me for anything, day or night."
"Gee," he said, lapsing into being just a kid again, "that's really swell. A guy's got to know he has someone he can depend on."
"That's me," Rogers said, "Johnny on the spot."
Honey smiled and reached out her hand as she had seen her son do. "Yes, Rogers," she said, clasping his hand warmly in hers, then covering it over with her other hand. "I want to thank you, too. I couldn't have gotten through this ordeal without you."
"I think we've got a mutual admiration society going here," Rogers said, loving the feel of her gentle warmth surrounding his hand, instantly transferring the thought to where it was no longer her hands but her tightly clenching cunt wrapped solidly around his firm-fleshed cock which was buried to the root and beyond into her softly sensual fuck hole.
Honey blushed and, reluctantly, released his hand. For just a moment she was thinking of it in terms of his cock, as if she were holding it tightly with her flexing muscles, milking along the whole long hard length of it.
But not so. The flesh of his hand, the gently hairs on it, the warmth of their touch, all registered solidly inside her head as being his hand. It was her fantasy that it be his cock, already fully engorged and hard, ready to give her pleasure beyond the limits of her knowledge.
"Well," she said, blushing, sure Rogers had looked inside her head and seen her mentally fondling his proud, up-standing prick, "we really do have to be going now. It's getting late."
"Yes," Rogers said, "Amelia's already left for the day. Trying to avoid the rush hour, I suppose."
"I hate it," Honey said, "but, to be able to take Harold home with me, makes the ordeal well worth while."
"I'm sure," Rogers said, walking with them to his big front door and holding it open.
Little Harold rushed on through, eager, looking back over his shoulder to smile again at Rogers. "Good-bye, now," he said.
"Good-bye, Harold," Rogers said, "hope to see you soon.
"Of course," Hot-Box Honey said, touching Rogers' hand again, letting her fingertips trace lightly through his fine man-hairs, "do come by."
"I will, for sure," Rogers said, watching Honey and Harold walk down the corridor and turn, out of his view. He walked back inside his office and closed the door behind him, leaning up against it and, unconsciously, cupping his warm cock and balls as if in definite promise for pleasures yet to come to surround his prick with passions's own fuck juices, manufactured in Hot-Box Honey's extremely hot-box, just for him.
At the curb, young Harold stopped beside Honey's customized Datsun pick-up, admiring the three-tone brown paint job that was streaked from the nose up over the low-rise fiber glass camper shell and down to the back bumper.
Honey could tell that he was admiring the car.
"Yes," she said, "that's the right one."
"This truck?" Harold said. "No kidding? You mean it's really yours?"
"Yes, dear," Honey said, "or perhaps I should say it's ours now. I'll have to do a whole heavy mental trip on changing my vocabulary, it seems."
"Geez," the youth said, excited at finding a new toy and it not even being Christmas, "I never thought I'd get close to one of these. Dad was strictly a big-car man. He had a Dodge...."
"That's all right, dear," Honey said, trying to divert the boy's thoughts. She wasn't too sure, yet, where areas of pain were hidden for him and she had no desire at all to uncover sore spots. "Get in and look around."
Harold eagerly opened the passenger door and slid inside, feeling of the gentle caress of his ass as the leather cupped it sensuously, offering security for any ride. The special dashboard attracted his attention right away, with all the extra switches and dials, the electronic digital clock and tachometer.
"Wow," he said, genuinely amazed at the amount of luxury crammed into such a little truck, then he turned around to look through the connecting boot, past the behind-the-seat storage area, and into the softly comfortable luxurious truck bed itself.
"Christ," he said, "you could do almost anything with this truck, couldn't you?"
"I suppose you could," Honey said, pleased that he approved of her truck. She closed the driver's door and inserted the key in the ignition, firing off the 2000 cc Japanese engine. It purred to life and throbbed gently, thanks to the special exhaust system, pulsating with mini-power.
"Do you think," Harold began, hesitantly, "that I might could ... Well, someday, learn to drive."
"You mean your father never taught you...?" Honey began, then remembered the youngster beside her was, after all, only fifteen years old.
"Well, you might be just a little too young," she said, "but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give you a few lessons. That way you'd be ahead of your class in Driver's Ed at school."
"Wow," he said, "that's fantastic. I can hardly wait."
"Now just watch me, Harold," Honey said, "as I shift into reverse and back up, then forward into low."
She moved the Datsun truck back then forward, slowly edging it into the traffic flow and continued demonstrating to young Harold how to shift, how and when to use the clutch, until she was onto the freeway and cruising, in 5-speed high, down the wide expanse of cement, trying to dodge the worst part of the afternoon's rush hour.
Harold had been leaning over, spanning the gap between their bucket seats, watching the way her feet worked the pedals and her hand the shift.
And looking down her soft silk shirt to gaze longingly at her lush, bounding breasts.
Honey wasn't even aware of the angle of his gaze, so caught up was she in her own mind-game. It was brought on by the heat of the youngster, being so close to her. She could feel his breath as he exhaled, it seemed to strike her neck and roll gently down into her silk shirt. His sweet young breath smelled good, too. She deliberately pulled in gasps of air to drag his expelled breath into her lungs and savor it.
Mine, all mine, she thought, and her mind instantly began undressing her son, right there inside the pick-up truck.
She pulled his rugby shirt up over his head and tossed it into the back of the truck, along with his T-shirt that had come off the boy at the same time.
His boyish biceps and wide shoulders were particularly inviting to her gaze and she allowed her eyes to search him minutely, inch by inch, to seek out nonexistent flaws with his fine young boyish skin. She looked under his arms into his softly rounded armpits where, amid the hint of youthful sweat, a just forming tangle of armpit hair was visible to excite her gaze.
She just knew his cock hair would be the same, the same color and the same fledgling thickness, mounded up over his fine young cock and, more sparsely, down over his scrotum that contained his precious little boy balls.
Honey sobbed aloud at the thought and Harold looked at her questioningly. Honey made a sweeping-hand gesture to indicate the heavy traffic flow and let her sob pass by that way.
But she knew it was her son's fine little body that had pulled that sob of passion from the depths of her unfucked soul. Already in her mind's eye she had the sweet youth standing up so she could unfasten his pants and let them fall down around his shoes. He was wearing clean white cotton briefs in her imagination, that just clung dearly to his sweet young genitalia. She could hardly wait for her mental hands to, especially gently, ease the clingy fabric back off his precious prick and, slowly, tormentingly, move it down his legs until she could actually-SEE IT!
There it was, mentally pictured in all his youthful glory.
HER SON'S COCK!
It was the most precious little cock Hot-Box Honey Jacobson had ever seen in her entire life. The vision of her boy's cock and balls that she conjured up, from whole cloth, in the living color television screen of her mind.
She desperately hoped that the real flesh and blood cock and balls of her little boy matched her mental promise, because if they did, he would be one fortunate youngster indeed, because the cock and balls Honey had mentally assigned to him were especially big and firm looking, especially virile and filled with gallons and gallons of fresh hot boycum.
Honey's Hot-Box spasmed and the moisture that had been collecting just beneath the fluttering lips of her attention-starved cunt began to slowly trickle out past the lips, making them spread farther apart, well lubricated, to make room for her annoying clit that was already becoming blood-filled and sensitive.
She squirmed around on the seat, trying to do it without attracting little Harold attention, and enjoying the way her juiced-up clit felt rubbing against the coarser lace trim of her black panties.
She gasped aloud as her clit rolled over a ridge of her bucket seat, but Harold didn't think anything was wrong this time.
She tried to close her eyes, to relax back into the subtle security other cum that offered her the only genuine pleasure and relaxation she had known for several years, but the knowledge that her son was with her, might even suspect what she was up to-but surely not, he was, after all, just a child himself. There would be no way for the child to know about sex.
Yet.
Now why in the hell did I say 'yet' in my thoughts?
She looked back at her naked son, in her mind, never leaving the busy freeway with her eyes where the heavy traffic darted past her precariously as her pussy fluttered and spasmed against the black bikinis and the soft leather seat. Thank God for the ridges in the upholstery, they seem to be made just for my juicy old cunt.
She rocked back and forth, as carefully as she could, savoring each sensation, each nerve-wracking ripple as cum after cum assailed her senses then, before she was nearly finished, in the growing darkness of evening, she saw the Groveton Boulevard exit looming just ahead on the freeway.
"Well, here goes nothing," Honey said, pointing to the exit sign.
Harold looked ahead, silently, the final few blocks to the Oasis, absorbing everything that passed his vision and recording it as if with a slow-motion camera. It was, after all, going to be his new home.
Had he but of known the extent of the joys he would find there, both mental and physical, he would have been howling aloud with absolute ecstasy.
As it was, he gritted his teeth and fought back the burgeoning blood-filled cock that he was deliberately holding down between his legs, forcing it to be inconspicuous and not embarrass him in front of his fine new mother.
Still, there was a particularly exciting scent coming from somewhere, teasing his already overwrought boycock.
CHAPTER FIVE
Honey Jacobson drove all the way around the block once, pointing out the extent of Jacobson Custom Body and 4WD Oasis to her new son Harold. In all his fifteen young years, the boy had never seen anything quite so exciting. It was like having a full-size erector set, and not like the erection he had, finally, managed to suppress in all the excitement of looking at his new home from the outside. Or like a giant tinker toy that he could change around and make out of it what he wanted as each moment's thought changed within his head.
"Do you mean you really own this whole big plant?" Harold asked incredulously.
"I suppose I do, dear," Honey said. "At least I'm making payments on all of it, and I've managed to pay all the tax bills and keep the wolf from the door."
"Oh, it's fascinating," Harold said. "Can we go inside now?"
"We have to, dear," she said, "we live inside. See, there on the second floor, just on the corner...." Honey was pointing out the window.
"Yes, I see," Harold said. "Is that your house?"
"We live up there, over everything. Originally, it was going to be a night watchman's quarters, but I decided I'd rather live there than just about anywhere I could think of," Honey said.
"Oh, me, too," Harold said, fresh awe creeping into his voice.
Honey pushed a secret button on the dash and an electronically operated overhead gate slowly swung upward, out of the way, and she drove the Datsun pickup through the gate and parked it in her special spot.
Harold jumped out of the car before Honey had completely stopped, so eager was he to see his new home. He bounced around the front of the truck and was opening her door before she killed the engine. She turned the key and, picking up her purse, turned to move out the door.
Her skirt hiked up, pulling against the leather of the seat, and the lace edge of her black lace decorated panties come into view. Several blonde to red strands of her lush pubic hair poked out the leg-hole at the side of her panties, the crotch was wet from her copious cuntal flow and the aroma, heady from her need, trickled through her nostrils.
Harold saw it all. He stood there gazing down directly into her crotch, his nose twitching faintly and a red flush creeping upward over his face as he realized, for certain, that he was looking almost right at his own mother's cunt! He didn't know the significance of the moisture which had gathered in a vertical slit along the crotch piece of her panties, but he sure suspected he was looking at his very first real grownup pussy hair.
The pounding beat of his pulse began anew in the depths of his crotch and kept signaling out messages of his need until they were picked up by the root of his boycock and, slowly, the blood began creeping back into the fleshy appendage, making it threaten to jerk upright, poking out an embarrassing tent in the front of his pants.
Honey, embarrassed at having accidentally flashed her cunt at her young son, pulled annoyed at her skirt and moved out of the truck, pulling her skirt down over her crotch, hiding her cunt hair and fuck fluid stains from her obviously embarrassed young son. She coughed nervously, trying to hide her shame.
"Just leave your things in the truck, Harold," Honey said, quickly moving and turning away, shaking her skirt downward. "We can get them later."
"Oh, yes, uh-uh.. Mo ... ," the youngster paused, lost in his thoughts. "I can't do it," he said.
Honey laughed, following the boy's thought processes in her mind. "It's okay, Harold," she said, "I understand. It's a problem for me, too. Do you think you could just concentrate on 'Honey'? That's what the guys all call me here, anyway."
"Even that's strange," Harold said. "I never called anyone Honey in my whole life."
"It's a name, dear," she said, "not a term of affection. A label, nothing more or less. But, here, look at the work we're doing on this VW, stripping it down and building it back up, only different."
"Oh, wow, I bet it'll be something," Harold said, glad to be away from the sticky subject of what to call his mother.
"And there, in the next room, we do the painting. The body shop's over to your right," Honey said, watching the boy run around in a daze, like a starving youngster suddenly turned loose in a candy shop, trying to absorb everything, touching things, memorizing them, making sure they were real and what was happening to him was real.
"Careful of the grease rack, Harold," she called, "it's pretty messy most of the time."
"What?" Where?" The boy looked around, higher, continuing to walk in circles, only Honey's warning had come just a bit too late.
Harold tumbled over the edge of the grease rack, falling head over heels into the pit, kicking aside catch-pans and oil-change gear, landing with a loud plop on his little ass, narrowly missing a large greasy stain on the hard cement floor.
Gasping, Honey quickly ran down the steps to the boy's side, looking down at his twisted form. "God!" she said. "Are you hurt? Where? How bad is it?"
Harold groaned more in embarrassment than in pain, ashamed that he had been so clumsy as to actually trip in her presence, soiling his clothes and hurting himself. He gave a quick check and couldn't find anything he thought was seriously injured, though some sharp pains did run up and down his back, from the base of his spine.
"Oh, it hurts back here," he said, rubbing his lower back. "But I think it's going to be okay. I do lots of tumbling in the gym at school, so I should know how to fall."
"We can't be too sure, Harold," Honey said, taking the boy's hand and trying to lift him carefully. "Here, let me help you. Don't make any sudden moves, just see if you can stand up slow and gently. Don't jar yourself any."
Groaning some more, moaning slightly, Harold twisted his legs around beneath him and, slowly, started rising, being pulled gently upward by Honey's strong, soothing hands. The pain at the base of his-,spine shot through him again and he gasped sharply.
"You could be in shock, Harold," she said, "so you really can't feel the actual extent of the injury. It could be much worse later."
"Oh, God, I hope not," Harold said, nor almost completely upright, shifting his weight from foot to foot, testing the reaction along his spinal column. There didn't seem to be any other injury. There was a minor scrape along his left wrist, where he had tumbled over the metal rack in the first place, but it was only a surface wound, not hardly bleeding at all.
He hobbled toward the narrow stairway and started going up it, with Honey just behind, still holding his arm and encouraging him upward.
"Slowly, walk carefully, Harold," she said.
Raising his foot up the next step brought new agony to the boy, and he cringed from the pain.
"Oh, Harold," his mother said, "I feel so helpless."
Forcing back his agony, the strong young boy moved slowly up the stairway until he reached the top, knowing it would feel better not climbing but walking on the flat. He sighed and relaxed visibly.
"Maybe you should just stand still for a bit, Harold," Honey said. "Don't walk just yet. There's still the flight of stairs up to the apartment."
"Oh, God," the boy groaned, thinking of more climbing.
"But if you could just walk to those stairs, they're wider than the grease pit," Honey said, "perhaps I could carry you up them."
"I don't think that's necessary, mo ... Honey," Harold said, walking toward the stairs that led up to the office and, behind it, Honey's private apartment. But at the bottom of the steps he stopped again.
Honey quickly grabbed him up in her arms, trying to lift him. At one hundred fifteen pounds, he outweighed his trim little mother by two pounds, stripped naked. All she could do was raise him up off the ground, then quickly put him back down again, but not before the solid fleshiness of his body registered in her brain, turning her on because of his boyish warmth, the promise of his fledgling body.
"Well, I guess that shoots that idea," Harold said, trying to laugh. "Maybe if I just leaned on you, we could do it together."
"Sure, Harold," she said, wanting to do it together. And to get him up the stairs. Honey gripped him firmly around his waist, pulling him in tightly until his firm hip was solidly pressing against hers.
When Harold reached around her shoulders, holding her, they began moving up the stairs with most of his weight leaning on her. They made it to the top without too much pain. Actually Harold thought it was diminishing entirely, but it felt good to him, being so close to the exciting blonde whose blue eyes kept making vague promises to him about something incredibly exciting.
Once they were inside the office, Honey tried to turn loose of Harold's waist, but he moaned and clung tighter to her shoulder.
"Oh, you poor thing," she said, "we'd better get you right to bed."
Leading the way, Honey walked Harold through the doorway into her private apartment, being sure to close it behind them, and across the big living room. Harold's bedroom, the smaller one, opened right into the kitchen. That was convenient, if he was hungry, he thought. His bedroom had its own small bathroom, just a shower, but he hated tub baths anyway, so that worked out just right. But it was the big double bed that captured his imagination. He had never slept in one in his whole life, and it looked immense and luxurious to the boy.
Honey carefully laid him back on the bed, looking down at him with genuine concern for his welfare in her bright blue eyes. She fluffed up the pillows and angled them so his head would be raised high, looking around the room that was to be his very own, seeing it for his first time.
"Now just be still, Harold," she said, "I've got to get some of your clothes off." Honey bent down beside the bed and untied the boy's best black shoes, his only pair, in fact, and slipped them off his feet, and his socks, too.
It felt so funny to the boy, having her do it for him. His feet seemed to tingle with excitement where her warm flesh touched them, like little caresses. Then Honey straightened up and pulled Harold's shirt out of his pants, opening it and tugging if off his shoulders, down his arms. He was wearing a V-necked white T-shirt beneath it an through the dipping neckline Honey could see that his chest, though perfectly smooth and hairless, nevertheless had sculptured pectorals already plating across it. She skinned the T-shirt up and helped him raise his arms in order to pull it over his head. As he fell back against the pillows, Honey paused, taking in the sight of his perfection, reigniting the tingling that had earlier plagued her loins.
At first, when Honey's hands touched his waist and began fumbling with his belt buckle, young Harold froze. He wasn't sure he should protest. In fact, he wasn't sure what he should do, but it was sure funny, watching a full grown woman tugging at his belt, unhooking it, opening it, working at the catch at the top of his pants and opening it, too.
Taking the tab of the zipper and slowly pulling it down, opening his fly.
"It's okay, Harold," she said, "after all, I am your mother. There's nothing to worry about, to be ashamed of."
And his pants were open, the halves of the fly pushed back, exposing his slightly faded white knit Jockeys that mounded up high and full from his groin, the feverish heat of his youthful genitalia radiating upward like a furnace to caress Honey's loving hands.
Gasping audibly, she raised his hips enough to tug his pants down under him, then off his legs, freeing the smooth, flawless columns, his nearly hairless thighs, his heavily boy haired calves and lower legs, the stark black hair looking, somehow, strong and youthful, hardly any of it being worn away from contact with chafing pants.
But it was the huge mound beneath the white Jockeys that drew her eyes back to it, solidly locking them in place until she could trace over every sculptured flow of the curving boy flesh, clearly inspecting the outline of his fine young cock, curving gently inside the too tight confines of the stretching fabric ... clearly inspecting both of his already heavy, ovoid balls, inside their crinkly fleshed ballsac.
For just a moment, as her eyes caressed the sex flesh of her very own son, Honey would have sworn that that same flesh moved. It seemed to twist around slightly, beneath the fabric, and stretch it out a bit, causing it to mound out even heavier, though she couldn't be sure about that.
"I really have to examine your injury, Harold," Honey said, gently trying to turn the boy over, face down. He rolled with her urging hands, loving the way they felt touching against his naked flesh, his shoulder, his narrow, dipped-in waist.
Flat on the mattress, his head off the fluffed up pillows and to the side of them, Harold moaned into the mattress growing suddenly feverish as Honey's hands dipped beneath the waistband of his Jockeys and abruptly pulled them downward. His cock caught and snagged the briefs briefly, then it pulled free of the hefty flesh, his ballsac, and slipped straight down his legs and off.
He was starkly baresass naked on the bed before his mother. Before his first woman. Nothing stood between his hot flesh and her view of it. He rolled to the side quickly, making sure that his cock, which had been pulled out into the open, was again covered, hoping she hadn't seen the brief flash of it, or noticed how it was extending, filling out, growing harder. As it was, he imagined that she had a clear view of his healthy balls, bulging up between his slightly spread legs. He tried to close them but her hand prevented it, grasping one thigh firmly and holding it in place.
"I'm just going to press you here and there, Harold, to see what kind of pain you get," Honey said. "Please let me know where it hurts. If it's not too bad, we won't get the doctor this time. Now, feel this, and this...."
She began prodding around his spinal column, growing lower and lower, poking and pounding at him. There was no real pain, but there was great excitement, especially when she finished with the base of his spine and moved on down into the crack of his boyish ass, carefully pushing his sweet white buttocks apart and probing betwen them. Her fingers toyed with the tiny brown pucker of his anus, probing even it, the sweet frangrance of his sweaty anus growing heady over the bed as she worked at it.
Then lower, her fingers actually touching his ballsac from the rear toying with its nearly hairless perfection, caressing the balls and lifting them gently, testing their weight, their potential, then gripping his thighs, massaging solidly into his firm youthful muscles.
"Everything seems to be okay, Harold," she said, stopping her feather caresses of his naked butt. "Just a bit bruised. You'll be okay in a day or so, though tomorrow'll be the worst. The pain'll go away. You can turn over now."
Turn over!? My God! the boy thought. There was no way he could face her with his erection, no way.
"Come on, silly," she said, "I've seen you naked before. I've seen men naked, there's nothing to be ashamed of, I'm sure."
"Oh, God," Harold said, moaning, but he slowly obeyed his mother, rolling hesitantly to his back. When he did, his fully erect cock snapped solidly against his belly, filling the room with the sharp flesh on flesh sound.
"Jesus!" Honey said, looking down on her little boy. He wasn't little at all, there. His cock was enormous, it seemed, indicating that, once he was grown up, it would be monumental in size. It was strong and straight with just the first veins visible, filling it with blood and roping around the precious shaft. A growing nest of starkly black hairs were behind it, on his pubic mound, making the stark white flesh of his cock just that much more irresistible, leading down to his precious, perfect boyballs in their crinkly little sac that bobbed and bounced as she looked at them.
But most of all it was his cockhead, peeping partially from within the foreskin that, still, tightly clung around it, protecting it, keeping it forever soft and sensitive and perfect. Unconsciously she touched it, pulling downward, watching his cockhead grow out of it to full measure before her very eyes, blooming like a virginal flower of boyfuck flesh.
The shaft of her son's cock was so hard it was sharply upright and flat against his trim, slim belly. She actually had to pull at it to pry it upward so she could get her hand around the steel-like shaft, pulling down at the delicate foreskin. As she did, the foreskin stretched out down along the shaft and it filled out even more, becoming longer, using that extra skin and trapping it rigidly back along the column.
Freeing all of Harold's incredible cockhead. It was fantastic, incredible, far beyond her imagination. It was bigger than she had supposed, seeing it captured beneath the tight foreskin, no wonder she had to peel it back cautiously, and broad, and much darker in color than the rest of his cock, almost purplish and glowing with moisture and youth and innocence and untouchability and all things attractive to her. Just beneath the back of the head where the two segments fluted together was a slight accumulation of off-white funkiness ... stuff that had been sheltered beneath his foreskin and against his cockhead.
Turning it slightly, she tilted her head to look at the top of it, at the broad, mushroom-like flare of his coronal ridge, now fully engorged with fresh hot blood and looking slickly smooth, like the skin of a giant plum, and just as delicious.
"Oh, God," she said, "it's beautiful." And she fell forward, right against it, her other hand scooping up his balls and cuddling them warmly. "I've just got to ... I've got to...."
Watching her, his head propped on the pillow in stark fright, wondering what the hell was happening to him, Harold was filled with joy and delight and a really funny fear.
No, Honey said in her brain. I can't do this, not to my own son. It's-it's INCEST, the most horrendous crime of all. I just can't! God!
Gasping, crying aloud, Honey jumped up and ran from the room, leaving him alone, his painfully hard cock falling noisily back against his belly.
CHAPTER SIX
For Hot-Box Honey Jacobson, it was a long, lonely night. Her mind was plagued by not only the sight, the feel, the smell of her son's hard cock, his balls, and sweet little asshole, but he overall thought of Harold was enough to make her crotch twitch and her cuntal lips to begin unfolding, juicing up for the attention she knew she was not going to have. No, much worse than that, for the attention she knew she must not have.
The threat of committing incest with her very own young son, to violate his perfect flesh with her woman's body, to take his sweetly extended erection, nurturing it, and slip it firmly up inside that spasming, flexing, snapping cunt of hers and grind it down to a pulpy boycum, squeezing it dry, plagued her entire night, torturing her emotions and wringing them out, hanging them up to dry from her moistly sticky cunt hairs.
She awoke with her three fingers jammed up inside her pussy, forcing the lips wide, her thumb grinding down against her clitoral nubbin and bringing about her fourth orgasm.
Honey struggled out of bed, out of her sexual lethargy, forcing her thougth to leave the hunky flesh of her young son that she had, so lovingly, fondled the night before. She staggered into her shower and quickly douched herself, trying to wash away the muscle-straining tensions of the lonely night.
When she went into the kitchen, Harold was already there, waiting for her, drinking a glass of orange juice he had found in the refrigerator.
Neither of them knew how to act, so they both seemed to pretend nothing had happened the day before, except for Harold's injury, that is.
"Are you feeling better this morning?" Honey asked, busying herself at the stove, making a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits from a pop-out can.
"Oh, just a little sore," Harold said. "My butt hurts when I move crooked."
"Here, sit down," Honey said, putting eggs on the table. "Start eating. You'll feel much better tomorrow."
Harold, famished for more things than just food, his loins still ablaze from the night's erection, the hard-on that plagued his fine young boyflesh, sat down sideways on the chair and began eating hungrily. When they had finished, Honey left him to unload the rest of his things from the pick-up truck and to rearrange his room as he wanted it to be, while she closed herself into her office and began the day's business.
As usual, there were stacks of papers waiting for her, material to order, invoices to check, payments to be made-always that, some bill always due.
She had just begun sorting the work, making her play for the day, when she decided, for some unknown reason, to check the close-circuit television scanners. Seated at the viewing console, three miniature television screens facing her, Honey began switching the cameras on one by one. Almost immediately one of the cameras picked up Wilhelm Zumwalt and the arrogant beauty, his incredibly heavy genitalia poking out the front of his pants, paused facing the camera to fondle and caress his lengthy cockshaft.
Honey thought he looked particularly excited about something, the way he was leering in anticipation, stroking his cock, so she decided to watch him. Horse went directly to the back of one of the large Chevrolet vans that was being customized, turned into a movable lovenest for some very rich young man. The whole interior was one softly lush bed;
Quickly switching to another camera, Honey was delighted to discover that it was aimed directly into the back of the van and she had a clear view of the whole interior.
And the naked little girl who was grabbing at Horse, pulling at his clothes in an effort to get to his body.
My God! Hot-box Honey thought, Why, she's just a child. She recognized the little girl as one of the neighborhood children, young Denise Wilson who lived down the street-only little Denise had done a streak of growing up since Honey had last paid any attention to her. For a kid, she sure did have nice breasts, and just a hint of pubic hairs flowering out around her little pink pussy.
Both the child and the massive German man were completely oblivious to where they were, to the fact that any of the employees could spot them at any moment, the television cameras even. It was obvious to Honey that the only thing the naked, rutting couple could think of was the other's body. Denise was frantic to get at Horse's pendulous cock and Horse couldn't wait to dig into her kiddie cunt.
The child, acting like the most brazen of professional streetwalkers, dived head first down onto Horse's cock, holding it upright in both her tiny hands that seemed to be dwarfed beside the massive column, and kissing it all over, waiting for it to erect fully and become the most massive hard-on Honey had ever seen. The child's little mouth could barely open wide enough to take in the whole broad cockhead, that she was laving lovingly with her lips and tongue, sucking on it and soaking it in her own spit, smearing the pre-cum that was oozing copiously out of the mouth of Horse's horsecock to slick it up, preparing it to slide into anything.
Only it wasn't her anything that Horse was examining minutely. It was almost as if he had never seen a child's cunt before, he was so engrossed in it, checking it out for color and odor, licking at it for taste, watching the child squirm in anticipation as he did. Then he slowly began prying at the sides of the cuntal mouth, trying to spread it wide and guess at how much cock it could handle, caressing little Denise's fledgling clitoris and making it throb noticeably.
Finally the child flopped back on the padded cushions and spread her legs wide, using her own hands to pull at the lips of her little girl pussy, opening it until Honey could see up inside it. The fuck hole of the child actually gaped open and Honey could see into the dark hot interior of the youngster.
The television security system was silent and Honey cursed herself for not being able to hear what was going on inside the Chevy van, but her imagination did wonders for her. Denise was begging Horse to fuck her, that much was obvious from the way she kept elevating her hips and hunching her little pussy up at the big beautiful blond man's face.
Horse dived down into her kiddie cunt, laving it with his tongue. From Honey's angle of vision, the camera was looking down directly on Horse's upraised buttocks and they flexed rhythmically as he mouthed the child's cunt, spreading until Honey could actually see the brown pucker of the man's asshole, surrounded by soft blond hairs. Then Horse moved sideways and Honey could see his face, buried in the child's groin, his tongue flicking in and out betwen Denise's tiny cuntlips, laving over her childish clitoris while the kid writhed against his cunt-licking face. Horse was dragging in heavy breaths of the child's pussy odor, and he was tasting the soothing freshness of her cock hole for the first time, though the child had been after his body for many weeks already.
"Now, now," Denise seemed to be saying, and Horse stopped eating her cunt and -edged tighter between her legs, taking his horsecock in his hand and positioning it against the child's tiny little pussy lips.
As she watched, Honey was oblivious to the fact that she had skinned down her slacks to her ankles and had peeled her panties off her hips, pushing them down as far as she could so she could get to her own woman's cunt, her hot-box already juicing up and snapping at her fondling fingers.
Honey saw Horse pushing against the child's body, trying to drive his impossibly huge horsecock into the virgin cunt. He couldn't get it in. Honey actually thought she saw the child's sweet flesh pulling back around Horse's cockhead, trying to spread wide enough to accept the massive intruder inside the sweetly insistent virgin fuck hole.
Horse's buttocks flexed and his cheeks squeezed tight from his efforts, his hip-driving muscle tension working, centering just on the broad, mushroom-like head of his oversized man's cock, drilling tightly against the child's unused pussy, pushing aside the tiny lips and disturbing the child's just growing black pubic hairs.
In frustration, Horse backed away from Denise's pussy, figuring he would never be able to fuck the child.
"No," Denise said, "you can't stop now. Here, let me suck it for you, get it slicked up again."
Horse scrambled forward on his knees, stradling the child's tiny belly and sitting on her budding breasts, her tits digging into the hunky, hairy mounds of his arrogantly grown up buttocks and his fat hard cock shaft, bigger than her forearms, angled heavily out across the child's sweet young face.
She grabbed at Wilhelm's cock and pulled, twisting it until it pointed at her mouth so she could start laving the frustrated, pulsating glands with her sweet young tongue, making it shine with her spit and his drooling pre-cum, shinging pearly white on the lips of his cock.
Honey's fingers were making honey inside her hot-box, twirling and plunging in and out, toying with her clit, pulling at it, stroking it, grinding against it, making a froth of the fluids that gathered just inside her cuntal mouth to, slowly, dribble out and trickle down her smooth thighs. Honey was groaning audibly, rocking on the edge of her seat, throwing her hips sharply forward so her cuntal mouth opened and closed rhythmically against her plunging fingers, the side of her hand, finger fucking herself in a special pattern she had learned as a teenager much younger than Denise Wilson, but then, Hot-box Honey Jacobson had never had a horse-cocked Wilhelm Zumwalt to play with, either, when she needed him the most.
Horse reached behind his back and used both of his hands to fumble until he found Denise's sweet young crotch, still spread wide open and waiting for the man. He slicked his hands, both of them, through her cuntal slit, working at it furiously, frictioning lengthwise through it and forcing his fingers deeper into it each time he passed by her child's clit, pulling, tugging at the sides of her cuntal walls as if, through power of his will alone, he was determined to make it stretch wide enough to accommodate his incredibly huge fuck staff.
Denis continued to whimper and mouth the big broad head of this man's cock, taking as much of it into her throat as she could handle before choking, and suctioning on it hard. Her sweet lips were tightly sucked in around the cockhead, moving inside her mouth, her tongue drilling deeply down into Wilhelm's pisshole to taste the honeyed nectar of his balls, of his groin, his heady pre-cum flavor of lubrication juices.
Wilhelm threw his head backward, lost in his ecstasy of having his cock sucked so sweetly by such an inexperienced young child while his big, brutalizing hands probed again and again into the secret hot-box of her satiny smooth cuntal lips, her pussy walls, trying to get them ready for something as big as his massive prong.
Honey's fingers slid and slipped through her pussy, working at her clit, increasing the friction by varying the angles of penetration slightly and making slurping, plunging sounds that whipped up her own familiar odor until it hung just around her head, her nostrils, further inflaming her sexual desires that the sight of Horse with a full hard-on had already begun ... that the sight of the child's virgin pussy, snapping open and begging for her first fuck had kindled to a blue-white flame.
Suddenly Denise cried out and jerked her head off of Horse's bulbous glans, his coronal ridge standing out sharply in the light because of the child's slicked-up spittle. "Oh, God hurry," she said. "You've got to get it in me. I can't wait.
Put your big fat cock in me. I don't care if it rips my pussy wide open, I've got to have your prick in me."
"Oh, yeah," Horse said, sliding down over her body, his heavy hanging balls briefly bouncing on her tiny tits, the nipples digging into the crinkly fleshed ballsac and poking through Horse's blond ball hairs. His sweaty buttocks parted across her trim flat belly, his feverish asshole dipping, smashing, pressing against her sweet little belly button in a butt-to navel kiss of fiery passion. Then, groaning, he scraped his ballsac through her just forming black pubic hairs, sighing with pleasure as the fevered contact of her cuntal flesh against the sensitve flesh of his asshole as it scraped across her throbbing clitoris and then his balls did, the coarse hairs on his ballsac making her twitch in pleasure and her cuntal lips to open yet wider, waiting for him.
Horse dragged the whole long length of his cockshaft through the open slit of her little pussy lips, parted wide in anticipation. The contact of his cock flesh with her cunt flesh making both of them gasp and rush headlong into their unavoidable rutting, totally oblivious to anyone else, anything else, or any physical damage they might cause themselves.
Groaning, grunting, Horse's buttocks flexed again and he stilled himself, readying for a long hard drive straight ahead. Horse pushed his hips forward with a heavy, determined effort while Denise gasped, tears filling her eyes, then she screamed aloud as Horse's whole broad cockhead tore into the child, ripping through her spreading cuntal lips to find a safe harbor inside the too tight cuntal walls, forcing them ever wider to make room for his impossibly huge man-sized cock, all of it, right down to his extra heavy, hairy balls.
After pausing for just a moment, obviously grossly overheated from all his attempts to penetrate the sweet child's fragile little cunny, letting his huge cock spak in her sweet virginal juices, letting her sore cunt accommodate his bulk, adjust to his enormous size that, after all, hadn't torn her flesh, Horse was finally ready to fuck the sweet child. Raising her up slightly by slipping his hands beneath her tiny buttocks, Wilhelm adjusted the angle of her crotch to better line up with his cockshaft then, in rapid rhythm, he began a tattoo of cock-sinking plunges that sent the child rocketing over the edge of her orgasm, too long delayed, longdicking the kid with his incredible cock, pulling it almost all the way out each time until Honey could actually see the sweet flesh of her virginal cuntal walls pulling outward, folding out around his massive cock shaft as it pulled out each time, even his broad coronal ridge relentlessly stretching the cunt lips of the kid with each stroke, threatening to come all the way out.
And then he was having his cum. Honey could tell from the pace of his prick-plunges, a loud, flesh-on-flesh slapping sound that drilled again and again into her ears.
But wasn't her sounds at all! Startled, Honey turned around, looking behind her. Her mouth open in awe, her fingers milking her clit for the last sensation of her chain-like orgasm, and saw....
Beautiful little Harold Jacobson, his virgin cock fully hard and outstanding in his fist, his heavy boyballs swaying beneath it in their hairless ballsac, Harold's dear little fist, cupped tight around his cock, his hips hunched forward, knees bent, fist-fucking at" a furious pace, watching his mother masturbate watching Horse fuck the little girl in the back of the Chevy van.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Oh, God, Harold!" Hot-box Honey Jacobson said, standing up and facing her young son. Her slacks were caught around her ankles, making her movement difficult, and her black-lace panties were there, too, up against the slacks. Honey's fingers were still inside her cuntal mouth and her juices, whipped up from her fingerfucking, slowly trickled down her smooth, satiny thighs.
The heady aroma of her arousal cleanly stroked the boy's nostrils, making them flare wide, horse-like, dragging in large helpings of her inflamed cuntal smell, savoring the scent and using it to enhance his own abundant arousal.
"Mother!" he said, managing to gasp out the one word, watching her turn to face him, her lower torso naked and clearly open to his view, her trim, flat tummy, the intoxicating bush of reddish blonde pussy hairs spreading arrowhead-like atop her slit, held open by her fingers to where he could see the sweet pink inner flesh of her pussy, the glistening labia, wet with her juices, and the trail of dampness down both her thighs. The odor of her sex alone, enough to give the boy instantaneous hard-on, had his boycock not already been overly extended.
Still, the sight of it caused his cock to throb visibly in his fist and jerk outward yet harder. The pounding, flesh-on-flesh slapping sound of his fist-fucking slowly ebbed to a stop, but he didn't release the tight grip he had around his cockshaft as he stood there, pointing the head of it directly at his mother, his youthful boyballs swaying in agitation beneath the heavy shaft of his cock.
"It's all right, dear," Honey said, her lust-inflamed mind taking over direction of her body, of her will, determined with, and nothing more. "Don't worry, let me take care of everything."
And while the boy watched, Honey kicked aside her shoes and peeled both her pants and her panties off her feet at the same time, standing again to face the youngster, brazenly and openly, deliberately moving her legs wide apart so her agitated, friction-rubbed red pussy lips could gape open and the boy could see the hot inner flesh glowing feverishly with deep pink fuck tissues.
"Just watch, dear," Honey said, slowly unbuttoning the silk print blouse down the front and pulling the sides apart, revealing the soft white cotton bra she had thought she had better wear around Harold, that she probably would never wear again in all the rest of her life. Honey shrugged her shoulder and the fabric of the silk slid noisily down her back and fluttered to the floor. Then, slowly, reaching behind her back, Honey unfastened the bra and dropped it. It fell directly to the floor, baring all her flesh to the boy's rivited gaze.
Jesus! young Harold thought, looking at his naked mother. Nothing had ever been so provocative, not even the pictures in Hustler he had seen once or twice before. Honey was definitely smaller than the boy, and she weighed less, but it was her clear blue eyes, only slightly glazed with her passionate lust, and her starkly blonde hair that made her all the more appealing to the youngster, like a sweet, virginal fairy queen, he thought.
"Now you, dear," Honey said, standing in place and motioning for her son to strip. "It's okay. Go ahead."
Fumbling with his loafers, finally getting them off, young Harold pulled his pants off his feet, then his tight Jockeys. As he stood up, he suddenly felt embarrassed, realizing that his cock was hard and that his loins were flushed with a fever he had never before experienced. He thought of trying to cover his sex flesh, to hide it from her view, but abandoned the effort. After all, she had not only seen it the night before but she had actually touched it, caressed it longingly, possessively.
Maybe she'll do it again, he thought in his boyish naivety.
All he was wearing then was a red and white striped Rugby shirt and he pulled it over his head, quickly skinning out of it and dropping the shirt to the side.
Suddenly, young Harold was as naked as his mother, and just as sexually aroused, though in his case his need to fuck was clearly more visible than in hers. You couldn't really see how excited she was, like you could from looking at the boy's sweet cock and balls.
Just the sight of her son's cock made her throat catch in her body and her breath quicken, it was that spectacular, long and heavy hanging and flawless, with nothing to mar it's flawless beauty.
As the boy had been undressing, his cock had slowly started relaxing, shrinking slightly, though still quite tumescent and elongated, only the angle had slipped slightly and it was sticking out at a heavy arc, angling just slightly downward over his heavy, hairless ballsac, the sweet, protective foreskin of it just rolled back slightly, covering more than half of the streamlines, laid-back cockhead, the heavy ridge of his corona easily visible, because of the engorgement of his cockhead, beneath the prepuce.
Just the tip end of the boy's cockhead, the sweet mouth of it, the lips holding tight to a shiny white globule of pearly pre-cum, peeked out from beneath the prepuce. His boyish balls, almost as attractive as the shaft of his cock, as the head of it, hung gently below the shaft, already drawn up more than halfway toward the base of it, getting ready to turn loose a hot, heavy load of boycum.
"Christ, Harold," Honey said, walking toward him, her arms spread wide, "you're so beautiful. I just want to kiss you all over."
She took him in her arms and pulled him into her chest, crushing his pectorals against the uptilted areola of her breasts, the nipples digging savagely into his firm boy's flesh, though not quite so savagely as did his cock, springing to instant full erection and poking solidly into Honey's deeply inset navel. His youthful balls slapped noisily against her mons, brushing through her red-blonde pubic hairs and nestling solidly into them.
Harold's arms closed around his mother's back instinctively, pulling her to him, crushing her with his youthful strength and enthusiasm. The fever in his loins had suddenly spread throughout him, inflaming all of his senses and he was weak in the knees. He knew he would surely pass out from excitement at any moment.
"Oh, yes, yes, baby," Honey said, crooning to him, rocking him gently, rolling him from side to side so her breasts smeared around on his chest, leaving twin trials of fire in their wake, so his cock smeared around on her belly, poking at her warm flesh, depositing a snail-trail of his slick lubricating pre-cum wherever it moved. "Hurry, come to bed with me!"
"She jumped up onto her bed and it bounced and vibrated while she turned, facing the appraoching boy, her arms spread wide to accept him, her legs spread even wider, in more brazen, more open invitation, the moist pink inner flesh of her cuntal walls seeming to sparkle with allure.
With his cock bobbing wildly in front of him, his balls bouncing up and down with his movement, young Harold climbed awkwardly up into the bed beside his mother, radiating heat from every pore of his overexcited boy's body.
"Forgive me, dear," Hot-box Honey said, "I'm not sure this is the right time or the right place, but I've just got to ... got to ... make love to you."
Looking at his mother in shocked amazement, young Harold gasped. He wanted just that more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, and there was no way he wanted to do anything to delay his mother from her stated goal. Actually, he didn't know what to do, how to react, or what was expected of him.
"I don't know how, Mo-" he began, but she quickly cut him off.
"Honey, remember?" she said, taking his cockshaft, in her fingers gently and pulling downward, peeling back the rest of his foreskin and watching closely as it firmed up along the shaft and the shining, satiny smooth skin of his glans fleshed out wider and harder in all its super-sensitive glory.
"I don't know what to do," little Harold said, looking at his mother's frail hand caressing his huge hard-on. "I feel so dumb...."
"Shhh," Honey said, shushing him. "Just relax, dear. I'll show you what to do, how to do it. Everything."
"Everything," Harold groaned in anticipation. "Oh, God...!"
Still holding his cock by the base, pushing heavily down into his flesh, against his belly, his groin, capturing even his drawn-up boyballs against the base of his dick, she held it rigidly upright, hard and steely, completely engorged, fully erect, and breathed on the head of it, watching it pulsate and throb with his heartbeat, watching the pearly pre-cum appear quicker at his cuntal lips and hang there, heavily, smelling feverish and boyfunky, his sweet sex flesh drawing her on like a magnet.
Honey's tongue flicked out between her lips like a snake and fluttered just over the boy's cockhead and she heard him gasp, watching her and trying to anticipate her movements. Without further delay, she licked the head of her son's hard cock, slurping up the globule of his nectary pre-cum and tasting of it, rolling it around in her mouth to savor the heady flavor of her boy's fuck juice that was like passion's nectar to her, urging her on to greater excesses.
Opening her lips wide enough to take in all of his huge swelling cockhead, the wide flaring coronal ridge and all, Honey moved her head forward, sinking down over his fuck flesh and letting her tongue, hot and moist, slick down over his cockhead until it bottomed out in her throat, unable to take more of its bulk into her.
Harold gasped and groaned, his hips flying upwardly sharply in an involuntary movement at the feel of her sweet lips softly enfolding his fuck shaft, her tongue teasing the usually protected, foreskin-free, super-sensitive head of his cock. His balls drew up tighter, close to the base of his dick and it was all he could do t o keep from cumming, right then, right there, in his mother's sweet, cock-pleasuring mouth.
Honey's hands began kneading his flesh at the base of his cock, and digging into his balls, cupping them, squeezing them, encouraging them to give up the ghost, to turn loose the load, to go ahead and have his long pent-up orgasm.
Her head began bobbing wildly, moving up and down on his knob inside her mouth, twisting around on it in corkscrew fashion, touching it from every angle, laving it lovingly with her tongue, working on it with a passion she had never unleashed before, even with Harold Senior, young Harold's well-hung father.
The boy started hunching against her mouth, fucking it as best he could using the instinctive movements originating within his loins, his hot-flushed groin, driving his hard-on as far down into her throat as he could as she continued the suctioning, twisting, cockhead-torturing movements of her mouth, her lips, and her tongue.
"Oh, God, God," the boy said, gasping, spittle drooling out the sides of his mouth, his bright green eyes coated with lust and filmed over. His hands unconsciously closing over her head and digging into her bright blond strands, forcing her down onto his cock harder, faster, fucking her head up and down on his cock that was fucking up and down to meet it, drilling it into her as hot and as hard as he could, oblivious to anything like pain, like the rasping, torturous tricks her tongue was doing to his overly sensitive cockhead, his widespread pisslips.
"It's the best thing I ever felt in my whole life," he said, knowing the end was near for him. "I'm almost there, Honey. I'm going to cum. You better stop, or it'll be too late. I'm gonna ... I'm gonna...."
Rather than stopping, his words were like a sweet symphony to Hot-box Honey, so she redoubled her efforts at his cockhead, at torturing it pleasantly, at digging into his pisshole and trying to scoop his cum out from it, of whirling around from side to side, suctioning harder and harder.
"Christ, I'm going to cum!" the boy said. "I FEEL IT ALL THE WAY UP MY COCKSHAFT, MOVING LIKE FIRE. MY CUM ... IT'S ... OH, GOD, NOW, IT'S HAPPENING. ITS-ITS-MY CUM IS RIPPING OUT OF MY COCKHEAD! CAN YOU FEEL IT? CAN YOU? JESUS CHRIST, ARE YOU DRINKING MY CUM RIGHT OUT OF MY COCKHEAD?"
Gurgling, gasping, swallowing as fast as she could, Honey drank from the fuck fountain of her very own son's sweet hot cockflesh, pulling in heavy swallows of his freshly manufactured virgin's cum and savoring the flavor as long as she could before she had to swallow to try to take in the next jetting splurt as it jetted from his cockhead right into her greedy throat. Even long after he had finished cumming, after his balls and his cockshaft and his groin had been suctioned dry, each drop of it deposited deeply inside Hot-box Honey's stomach, did she continue sucking on his cockhead. Even after all the pleasure was used up and it started to feel different, not so good, did she continue sucking on it.
Twisting to his side, pulling his cock out of his mother's mouth, looking down and noticing how sparkling clean it was, not even a trace of his cum anywhere to be seen, his fuck flesh almost raw and red like from all her devoted attention, Harold sighed contentedly and flopped back against the pillows of his mother's big wide bed.
"Shit, Honey," he said, "that was the most fantastic thing that's ever happened to me. It was really wonderful. I liked it a lot, but there's one thing I've always dreamed of, and you've just got to let me do it, now, after that. Please, Honey, please, let me fuck you. Just let me put it inside you ... there ... and see what it feels like."
"Oh, God, Harold," Honey said, looking up into her son's sweet clean innocent face. "What have I done? OH, WHAT HAVE I DONE?"
She was suddenly flooded with remorse, with shame, for the inexcusable crime against God and nature that she had just committed by actually having sex with her very own flesh and blood.
"It's awful, Harold," she said. "Don't you know it's wrong, what we did? It's-it's incest, Harold. That's a crime. Oh, God, what'll we do? What'll we do?"
Puzzled, Harold had difficulty following his-mother's words. "I don't know. Honey," he said. "All I know is that it was great, and I want a lot more of it, as often as I can stand it. Just look, my dick's getting hard again. Watch it stretch out and shape up. I like to watch it move all by itself. Please, Honey ... Mother ... you've just got to let me fuck you. I can't stand it if you won't let me put my cock in your-in your-there, your thing...."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Standing in her big shower stall alone, Hot-box Honey Jacobson let all her thirty-five years flash before her eyes in a few brief mintues. She was gloriously naked, her long blonde hair down to her shoulders and getting wetter by the second, her deep blue eyes flashing as she caressed her one hundred and thirteen pounds all over, loving the way the hot water opened her pores and began getting her ready to face the day.
Then, just as her hand slid through her cuntal lips and touched briefly just inside the soft buttery depths of it, coming into direct contact with her super-sensitive clitoris, the horrible thing she had done the night before came abruptly to her mind.
Oh, my God! she thought, the shame of it all washing over her like hot molten boycum, melting sweetly in her mouth and trickling down her cock-squeezing throat.
I did it! I actually did. I-I raped my own dear sweet son. I took his sweet sex flesh and manipulated it and caressed it and aroused the child until his cock was hard. And I massaged his dear little halls, cupping them together and squeezing them gently. Then I-I actually....
Christ! I went down on him. I took his dear sweet cockhead into my mouth and I sucked on it. I licked it with my tongue and felt of it all over, top, bottom, and sides, even into the tiny pisshole that tasted so precious, so delicious.
I squeezed at it, caressed it, sucking on it until my little Harold's big-boy cock shot off into my mouth. My own dear son's honey-sweet cum.
Incest!
Oh, God! I actually made him cum in my mouth and, like the most wanton whore that ever existed, I literally ate it all, swallowing it, taking my son's cum into my stomach, digesting it, making it a part of me, like he is a part of me. Even his precious cock and balls, they came from me, out of my old pussy.
My very own flesh and blood. Oh, Jesus, how can I ever repair the damage I've done? The shame of it all ... the sin....
And while Honey Jacobson's thoughts tortured her for seducing her son Harold, her hands did something entirely different. They took the big bar of green and white striped Irish Spring and worked up a frothing lather in her palms, then began laving the slick foam into her labia, working at her cuntal lips, spreading them gently, prying them apart to reach deeper inside the soft, fiery depths of her pussy with her fingers, stroking again and again the slick, pulsating length of her clit, her knees sagging with weakness, her hips hunching gently forward, fucking against her cunt-pleasing strokes.
While her mind ripped her apart, her hands soothed the pain in the quickest, most thorough fashion possible.
Even without knowing it, Honey began a humming, sing-song of pleasure pain that echoed, audibly, the faint ripples of the cycling miniature orgasms she was having, the tiny string of little cums that fluttered through her spasming vagina to tease her brain, to make her want something much more effective up inside her fuck hole, something very much like the hot hard cock she had nursed to overflowing cum the night before.
Young Harold Jacobson had also spent a tormented night, though his thoughts were far from sin and centered almost entirely around pleasure. Not that the boy was totally devoted to hedonism, no way, it was just that he had never had the sinful aspects of an incestuous relationship drilled into him, consequently he could see nothing wrong with taking his pleasure wherever it appeared.
After all. Honey was considerably less than a mother to him than she was a strikingly beautiful female. He had never really known her in the mother role, why should he, suddenly, he expected to accept her as just that when, looking at her, all his eyes could see was a fantastic body and two incredible tits, some pubic hair and a....
A CUNT! Yes, by God, a cunt, he thought, saying the word to himself freely, without conscience pains, for the very first time.
Harold's cock twitched and jerked heavily. He could feel it beginning to squirm in response to his thoughts and lengthen. Only too soon, he knew, it would begin to fill out, growing fatter and harder, until it reached its full length and the foreskin would peel clear of his cockhead, leaving the otherwise protected flesh vulnerable to every pleasant sensation that direct contact with it would register in his never-endings, in his fuck-feverish brain.
Unconsciously, Harold reached down and stroked his balls, pulling them free of the confinement where they had been caught between his smooth hairless thighs and letting them flop heavily as he swung his legs off the side of his bed and sat up, his slightly tumescent cock lifting slowly out over his balls, angling heavily in a downward drooping arch as it jerked more and more upright, filling out fuller and fatter.
Harold couldn't even remember getting into his bed the night before, his mind was so flooded with the sweet remembrances of his mother's dear mouth, tightly suctioning around the knob of his cock, siphoning out all the pleasure the boy could stand, draining his balls of his sweet virginal cum as she swallowed it right down.
Standing, his cock, now at right angles to his body, moved violently from side to side and his balls bounced heavily, bottoming out in their nearly hairless ballsac, the crinkly flesh of it looking precious and very boy-like, even vulnerable beneath the very heavy, rapidly rising fuck column.
Hating the feeling of frustration, his mind totally occupied with his need, finally, to fuck. To sink his big hard-on into the willing pussy of some willing woman. To find out for the very first time exactly what the thing his cock, his balls, had been created to do, their prime function.
FUCKING!!!!
Harold started walking toward his bathroom, needing to urinate, the sharp pain of his morning piss-hard-on making his bladder ache, only he knew his cock would have to get much softer than it was in order for him to be able to piss in the first place.
Even that pleasure was to be denied him for the moment.
He was. standing just inside his half-open doorway when he heard the sounds. There was lots of running water, only that wasn't it. It was the moaning, groaning sounds that captured his attention, like someone in pain. Harold wasn't familiar enough with the noises to identify them as pleasure, that would come in time, with experience, listening to fuck sounds close up at first hand.
Momentarily ignoring his painful bladder, his agonizingly hard boy cock, Harold rushed toward the other bathroom, the big one in his mother's room. As he moved, his balls bounced from side to side because of the action of his legs and his cock pointed first this way and then the other, angling sharply upward, almost flat against his trim young belly.
Just inside the doorway of Honey's bathroom, he stopped and looked around. He could see his mother inside the big shower stall. Her fuzzy outlines were clearly revealed to him through the amber-colored plastic shower door.
She was radiantly naked and Harold could see her long flowing hair, the flashes of shell-pink-brown areola capped by deeper brown nipples that were her irresistible breasts. Then, between billows of white foam and her moving hands, he saw it again.
Her cunt. Her pretty red-blonde pussy hairs. The hot pink inner lips inside her cuntal mouth.
Harold's hard-on snapped rigidly upright, flat against his belly, with an audible flesh-on-flesh sound. His balls twisted slightly and began to draw up tighter against the base of his fat hard boycock.
Oh, God, he thought, she's so beautiful. If only the amber color wasn't in the way and I could see her naked flesh again, with nothing between her body and mine.
His fist closed tight around his cockshaft and he began milking the column, pounding up and down on the shaft making it, if anything, grow fatter and fuller while taking on friction marks and the imprint of his fingers, making the big broad cockhead swell tightly and turn darker pink as it throbbed and pulsated.
Gone completely was the pain of his bladder, of his urgent need to piss. Something much more important was much closer at hand. His cock. His mother's completely unknown pussy.
Unable to control himself any longer, Harold sobbed and gasped aloud, reaching out with his free hand to pull the shower door open so he could look at the naked flesh of his dear mother.
Honey's back was to the boy and she did not hear the door open, so intent was she upon her fingerfucking, her hands sliding furiously through her cuntal lips and across her clit, again and again.
Blind with his need, moving totally upon masculine instinct alone, Harold stepped inside the huge shower stall and closed the door behind himself. He wasn't even trying not to make noise. In fact, he didn't hear anything, not even the sound of running water.
Harold moved right up against his mother's slick, wet back, his hard cock nestling rightly in the crack of her ass and his arms snaking right around her, capturing a breast in each palm, squeezing and massaging them while the rigid nipples poked out between his fingers.
Shuddering, momentarily caught up by fright. Honey finally realized who the strong man was behind her, his desperately needed cock poking rigidly into the crack of her ass, was ... her own dear sweet little boy ... so she cast all her moral reservations to the winds and surrendered back against him, weakly melting against his flesh.
Her buttocks merged with his groin and her cheeks seemed to snap tightly together, capturing all of his hot hard cock, squeezing it in the fire-grip of her backside. His sweet young black pubic hairs dug into her lower waist, further inflaming her desires.
Her tongue entered his mouth just as her belly crushed against his cockshaft, grinding it into her flesh and mashing his boyballs tight against his thighs.
Harold close his arms around her back, sliding them down low, and cupping her buttocks. As their kiss continued, he began massaging her asscheeks, grinding them inward to push her body closer, tighter against his feverish groin, finally separating the tight cheeks with his fingers and letting them run up and down in her wet crack, toying with her tiny puchered anal ring, turning her on like crazy.
Her juiced-up cunt was already so overheated she could hardly stand it and she could tell from the firmness of his erection, pressed against her belly, the broad head of it nestled against her belly button, that the boy was as ready as he would ever be for the next step in his sexual education.
"Honey," he said, gasping at her, "I'm going to fuck you, regardless of what you say about it. I've just got to know what it feels like, with my cock up inside you. You're driving me crazy, I want you so much."
"Oh, Harold," Honey said, melting against him, surrendering completely to his dominant will, glad that he was, through his superior strength, taking the decision-making completely out of her hands, absolving her of the guilt of her sinful compulsions.
"I-I really don't know how, Honey," he said, "but I'm going to find out. I know the basics, but you'll have to show me the refinements."
"Anything, Harold," Honey said. "Just anything you want, my little lover."
"Little!" Harold said, butting his belly against her. "Does that feel little to you?"
"Oh, God, no," Honey said. "Hurry, Harold. I can't wait either, put it in me. Oh, Harold, give me your cock. PUT YOUR COCK IN MY OLD PUSSY! HURRY! DO IT!"
Harold lifted his mother up like she was a toy, still holding her by her buttocks, while her thighs parted and slipped around his hips and her arms locked tightly around his head. Then he released her buttocks with one hand and fumbled around between their bellies, taking the shaft of his cock and bending it down, angling it beneath her until it slid in to the tight crack of her cuntal mouth, becoming soaked with her pussy juices and ignited by the completely unexpected heat of her there.
"Oh yes, yes, Harold," Honey said, moaning, her head against his strong shoulder, "that's it, honey. Now, do it. PUT IT IN ME! PUT YOUR COCK IN MY PUSSY, HAROLD!"
Hunching forward, causing her to bob up and down quickly, he was surprised to find that the whole head of his cock had slipped effortlessly into her tight hot pussy. The feeling was so good, so completely unexpected to the young unfucked boy, that he lost control.
Recognizing that the first taste of her cunt was pushing her son right over the edge of his orgasm. Honey began bobbing up and down rapidly on his fat cockshaft, bottoming out on it each time she moved down, pushing tightly against his drawn-up boyballs, feeling him hip-hunching into her and his pubic mound grinding again and again into her delicate, sensitive clitoris as the broad bulbous head of his boycock, far up inside her fevered belly, began releasing a heavy stream of pure white boycum. It flowed out of his cockmouth in torrents, it seemed, of fire-hot boyfuck fluid, bathing her cuntal walls in soothing balm as they rippled along the length of his shaft, snapping and flexing tightly around it, milking it of all the boy juice her talented pussy could claim.
Screaming in a whining hum of passion, Harold pushed his cock as far up into his mother's soft buttery cuntal depths as he could, ecstatic at the feel of his cum, rushing through his cock and splashing free inside her pussy. His very first fuck. His very first orgasm with his whole cock up inside a woman.
Harold Jacobson was a virgin no more, thanks to the talented twat of his incestuous mother, Hot-box Honey and her very, very hot box.
CHAPTER NINE
Wilhelm Zumwalt was hornier than usual that morning. His horse-cock hanging heavily inside his pants, throbbing, nagging at him. For a while he thought it might have been because of that tight-cunted little kid from down the street, little Denise Wilson, who had been after him for so long to fuck her that he had finally given in the day before.
The kid had a real natural talent, Horse knew, once she was juiced up enough to take his enormous cock inside her little cunny. She literally fucked him ragged, leaving him a cummed-out wreck, weak-kneed and shaking for the rest of the day.
Horse's cock was so raw, frictioned as it was inside her too tight twat, that it felt like fresh meat to him most of the night, and he thought it would never lose some of that raw-red swelling. Only it had; his cock finally shrank down to its usual enormous size, and the swelling went away with most of the rubbed-raw redness.
And, driving to Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis that morning, Wilhelm's lusts had become fixated on Hot-box Honey again. Once he had fucked the little kid, young Denise Wilson quickly faded from his memory and the one he wanted but couldn't get his cock into returned, again, to prominent, fore-front position. Hot-box Honey Jacobson, the cunt he had wanted for so very long. The only cunt he had ever wanted who didn't literally fall at his feet, her thighs widespread, her pussy open and waiting for his rampant hard-on.
Goddamn you, Honey, he thought, parking in his spot inside the compound and getting out of his car. He had come early, as usual, to open the shop and get things ready for the day. In earlier days, when he had been heavily after Honey's box, he had had coffee with her in the mornings, talking sweet seductions to her until she had turned off of him completely, almost ignoring him outside their necessary business relationship.
His heavy cock throbbed again, walking across the yard, and his balls bulged out heavily, pushing against the fabric of his pants.
I should just go right up those stairs and jump into her bed, he thought. Wake her cunt up good to what she's been missing. He stroked his slightly swelling cock through his pants.
I ought to ram this pole up into her fuck hole before she knew what was happening and fuck the shit out of her. Goddamn uppity bitch, she wants my cock as much as I want to slip it to her.
As if giving way to his desired, Wilhelm walked right up the stairs and into the office, looking around. Still early, he thought. She's still sleeping, her pretty little body naked in bed, I bet.
He pushed at the door leading to Honey's private apartment and was very surprised at finding it open. It was almost locked, when he tried it before. Opening the door quietly, Horse slipped inside, stopping with his back to the door and listening carefully.
She's in the shower, he thought, hearing the running water. Then he heard the rest of it.
Jesus Christ! The bitch! The groaning, whining sounds of fucking were well known to Horse, who above all people had worked at perfecting the art, sharing his enormous genitalia with anyone who would stand still long enough to partake of it.
Wilhelm walked right through Honey's bedroom and into her bathroom, coming up starkly still, staring at the big shower stall. They were both in it, together, naked, fucking, Honey and her kid.
Jesus Christ! She's fucking her own kid. She'll fuck that little bastard but she won't let me get mine in her. Goddamn that bitch!
Through the fuzzy amber-colored plastic shower door. Horse could see their two bodies mashed together and rutting in the feverishness of their joined passions.
He could clearly see the boy put his hands beneath her buttocks and raise her up so her thighs could split around him, grabbing him tight and her hot fuck box nudge up against the kid's cock and balls. He watched her cling to the kid's neck while he fumbled down between them with his hand, taking his cock and rubbing it all around her fuck hole, juicing it up good and playing with her old clit with the head of his boycock.
Goddamn you. kid. Horse thought. It should be my dick rubbing her juicy old cunt that war.
Listening, Horse heard Honey's words: "Oh yes, yes, Harold, that's it, honey. Now, do it. PUT IT IN ME! PUT YOUR COCK IN MY PUSSY, HAROLD!"
He saw it all. Honey swinging down hard on the kid's pole, taking all of it up inside her hot fuck hole before the little boy knew what was happening to him. She bottomed out on it. riding the kid like he was a rocking horse, all set up for little-girl fucking, using his cock for her own satisfaction alone, totally ignoring the boy it was growing out of.
I'll teach that bitch what fucking's all about, Horse thought, quickly taking off his shoes and his socks, starting to undress. Let's see her keep my cock out of her now, after I've caught her red-handed in the act of fucking her own kid. Why, that's, that's incest. She could go to prison for this crime.
Wilhelm began chortling under his breath as he finished undressing, finally standing tall and naked in Honey's bathroom, his clothes kicked to the side, his hot hard cock sticking out in front of him for miles, it seemed, long and gnarled like a horse's cock, and roped with heavy blood-filled veins. The burgeoning head of his cock itself was like the end of a battering ram, much used and thoroughly fucked, and all red and dripping pearly juice off the cocklips, drooling in anticipation of sinking all the way up inside hot-box Honey Jacobson's pretty little blonde-haired cunny.
Picking up a large heavy bath towel, Horse opened the shower door and turned off the flowing water.
"Here," he said, handing the towel to Honey, "use this, I don't want to fuck you while you're all wet. Hurry, get in bed as soon as you dry."
"Jesus Christ," Honey said, staring at Horse in amazement. Slowly her legs slipped down from around Harold's hips, his thighs, and her cunt, still tightly clamped around Harold's full erection, pulled heavily at it, her weight now being supported completely by just his hard-on alone.
Gulp! Harold swallowed hard, recognizing that he was caught in a very poor position indeed, except for the fine feeling surrounding his cock, that is, where it soaked in his heavy boycum, deep inside his mother's hot buttery cuntal mouth.
"Okay, kid," Horse said, "you can pull it out now. It's time for a man to take over and show you what fuckin's really all about."
Listening to Horse's words had a peculiar effect on Harold, or maybe it was just the sudden, unexpected sight of the big blond giant of a man, totally naked, his cock so big and hard it defied imagination. Whatever it was, Harold's cock, finished completely with his cumming, began to rapidly shrink, curling up into itself there inside Honey's cunny until, finally, it plopped free of her pussy lips, a heavy string of his cum flowing out with it, keeping the head of his cock and her cuntal lips connected with his fuck fluids and her pussy juices.
"Not bad, for a beginner, kid," Horse said, looking down at Harold's still slightly tumescent genitalia, friction red and cum-streaked. He grabbed at a second towel and handed it to Harold.
"Here," he said, "wipe the pussy juice off your dick and watch closely, if you're going to be a fucker, you better learn from the best."
"Get out of here right this instant, Wilhelm Zumwalt," Honey said, trying her best to appear indignant, standing in front of the big blond man naked, wiping the cum off her cunt lips that was drooling out of it from where her young son had just ejaculated inside her, filling her fuck hole to overflowing with virgin boyfuck fluid.
Horse laughed and gripped his cock, shaking it at her like a pointer and grinning broadly. "Hurry up, you bitch," he said, "and get down on my fuck stick. I caught you red-handed having ... what is it they say? ... carnal knowledge of your own little boy. Disgusting. Why, you could go to jail for a crime like that ... if I said the right thing to the right person, that is...."
"Oh, God," Honey said, turning suddenly pale and weak-kneed. "You wouldn't. You couldn't be that cruel, that heartless...."
"I don't know, Honey," Horse said, "you been bad to me for a long time. You know how much I want to ball you, but you keep turning me down like some kind of filth. I guess it depends on how good you can be to me now, to this...." He shook his cockshaft at her again, rubbing the head of it up against her hip, leaving a snail streak of his oozing pre-cum across her pale pink skin.
"Oh, God," Honey said, "Oh God!"
"Hurry up, bitch," Horse said, "and get into the bedroom. Can't you see my cock needs you right now?"
"Hey, you can't do that," Harold said, suddenly finding his voice.
"Shut up, kid," Horse said, "and listen good. I got you by the balls now, see, and the quicker you learn that, both of you, the better we'll all get along. Now you just stand still and watch. Who knows, I might even let you have some of it. Don't leave and don't put on any clothes. I've never had a naked audience before, while I fuck. It'll be interesting, watching your reaction to watching me ream out your old lady."
When they reached the bed. Horse moved up onto it, into the center, fluffing up the pillows and leaning back against them like a kind in his harem, looking down over his belly, his hot hard cock, to the foot of the bed. "Now you, kid," Horse said, "stand up close. I want you to see everything, to hear everything, to even smell everything. I want you to do everything but put your face right in it while we do it, you hear me?"
Gulp! Harold swallowed hard, the sound rang clear in the big bedroom. "Yeah," he said, "I hear good."
Horse laughed and winked conspiratorily at the boy, then turned his full attention to Honey Jacobson.
"Let's see what a little taste of this does for you, baby," Horse said, picking his cock up again and aiming it at her, pointing the battering-ram head of it at her face. "Come on, baby, climb up here and slide down on this pole. Eat it. Eat my cock raw."
"Oh, God, oh, God," Honey said, moaning, knowing that she was helpless to do anything except whatever the depraved, arrogant German directed her to do. Slowly, reluctantly, she moved up onto the bed from the foot of it, crawling between Horse's widespread legs, feeling the coarse blond hairs teasing along her hips, the sides of her body, torturing her with lustful depravities.
"Eat my cock, you bitch," Horse said, watching her slow movements, wanting to hurry her along.
"Oh, God," Honey said, reaching down slowly and taking the huge shaft of his gnarled dick in her two hands, hefting, trying to reach around it. It was too large to believe, really, even though it was right there in front of her face. She could even smell it, it was that strongly male. A faint hint of foulness creeped up from below Horse's balls, from the dank darkness of his ass crack, and his balls were sweat-shiny with a film of his perspiration. There was also the odor of stale piss that assailed her nostrils, but still she forced herself to remain there, staring down into the single eye of Wilhelm's incredibly big cockhead, looking at his pearly pre-cum and smelling of his fuck flesh at close range, the very same flesh she had seen countless times before, on her television screen or around her business establishment, the coarse man stroking it and fondling it himself ... only now it was for her to do as he commanded.
Young Harold, too, could smell the funky scents of Horse's cock and balls, as the bedroom grew headier and headier with fuck smells. He watched, amazed, as his mother's dear mouth opened wide and she moved down over the knob of Horse's horse-cock, taking all of it into her tiny little mouth and nursing "on it, her cheeks suctioning in tightly around the man's huge coronal ridge, drawing at it heavily.
"See, kid," Horse said, "ain't it something? Look at it good, and remember it."
Slowly, Harold began walking around the bed, checking it out from every angle. From the rear he looked right up into the crack of his mother's ass. Her buttocks were spread wide because of her bent over position, going down on Horse's cock, and her cunt gaped slightly open so the boy could actually see up into it, there, below her pink-brown asshole, to where his cock had just minutes before been soaking in his fresh hot cum, her fresh hotter pussy juices. The mingled flow of his fuck fluid and her juice dribbled slowly out of her open-mouthed cunny and trickled slowly down her thighs as she worked on the man's big hard cock.
When Harold reached the other side of the bed and moved in for a closer look, Horse was hip-hunching upward, driving more and more of his long hard cock shaft into his mother's mouth. She, her eyes closed so she could not see the fuck flesh before her, was sucking away at his cockhead as ordered to do. Harold bent down, looking closely at her lips where they closed around Horse's big fat cockshaft.
Horse laughed and pulled Honey off his cock.
Horse gave a horse laugh, watching Honey scramble around and poise right over the set knob of his rigidly upstanding horsecock.
Then, moaning in agony. Honey slowly lowered herself until the slightly parted lips of her cunny just nestled around the lips of Horse's incredibly big cock.
"God ahead, get down on it. Honey," Horse said, "we all know you want it. We can tell."
"You bastard!" Honey said, glaring at the big hunky German.
"Take it, you bitch," Horse said, putting his hands on Honey's shoulders and pushing her down, hip-hunching upward at the same time.
There was a sibilant sound of flesh sliding against flesh and all of Horse's bulbous cockhead disappeared up inside Honey's widespread cuntal mouth, leaving what looked like a foot of hot hard cock standing between their two hot, naked bodies.
Horse laughed and looked at Harold, his little boy face close in, looking at Horse's cock as it slowly disappeared up inside his mother's pussy. "Ain't it a bitch, boy?" Horse said. "But, Christ, you must have put a gallon of cum up in there, my cock's never moved so slick, so smooth before, in any old fuck hole."
Gulp! Harold swallowed, realizing that Horse's cock was actually being lubricated, inside his mother's hot tight cunt, by his own semen, a situation he had never even fantasized about before. And, as he watched, his mother took all of Horse's cock inside her and then began bouncing up and down on it, bobbing her body, swinging her head from side to side in her shame, in her ecstasy, bottoming out solidly down against Horse's hunky body, grinding into his big heavy balls, fucking him beautifully.
Harold's cock swelled to full erection and he peeled back the foreskin by holding it tightly in his fist, wanting to pump it but wanting to save it, too, for the fuck he was sure was yet to come, as he watched Honey and Horse cum together, splurting juice all over the bed, and some of it was Harold's the boy knew.
CHAPTER TEN
By the next morning, Wilhelm Zumwalt knew he had the world by the balls, at least Hot-box Honey Jacobson and her incestuous lover-son Harold ... and all of Jacobson's Custom Body and 4WD Oasis. That was enough of the world for Horse Zumwalt. Especially if it carried with it Honey's sweet cunt, and almost all the hot-cocked fuck action Horse could get it up frequently enough to handle.
It had been incredible, the day before, bursting into Honey's shower and finding the kid's cock, balls deep, buried up into her cunny, pouring the prick to her in a stand-up, beneath-the-shower fuck. Maybe it had been the kid's first time to pop his nuts off inside a pussy, or maybe not, it really didn't matter to Horse. He knew that Honey's hot box was big enough for any two cocks, and could siphon off more cum in a day than a bilge pump inside a sinking barge. There was plenty of her pussy to go around for both little Harold and big Horse to plug it regularly, there was no need for him to be a pig about it, especially since he had finally found the key to unlock the portals of her pussy and let him get his big horse cock into it.
Incest, just the thought of it was almost laughable to Wilhelm. Yet the sinful crime had both Honey and her son exactly where he wanted them to be, in the grip of his palm. There was no way Horse was going to let them slip through his fingers either, or the shop, that had, over the many months he had worked there, lusting after Honey's sweet body, grown to major prominence in his life. It was a great job, a really sweet operation, and one that Horse would be proud to be a real part of, not just a flunky employee. With the incriminating knowledge he had about Honey, holding her in his benevolently sexy grasp, he realized that he could expand it to include a piece of her business. After all, he had worked hard for the company, it was only right that the company should work for him for a change. Honey could hardly refuse to cut him in for a piece of her pussy, regularly, every erection he had.
The arrogant German's plan was fully developed in his head as a viable one by the time he left his apartment the next morning, driving to Jacobson's Body shop. For the. first time in ages, he felt like singing, breaking out into a guttural German song he remembered his mother singing to him when he was just an infant, tooling down the streets, driving effortlessly, his head light and giddy.
Again, for the second day in a row, Horse Zumwalt wanted to arrive at the shop compound early, before the day's business got under way. Maybe he could be lucky enough to catch Honey fucking the kid again. That'd be a real turn on, just watching them. Horse figured the sight of the heavy-hung youngster balling his mother would give him a king-sized hard-on.
He unlocked the big shop gates and threw them open for the day's business, then drove his car into his private parking spot and parked it, making sure everything was ready for the employees, expected within a few minutes, to begin working on the cars parked around the lot.
Then, knowing his time could easily be spared for a while, he went straight upstairs and into the office. It was as empty as it had been the day beforehand quiet, the television monitors not even turned on.
He tried the door into Honey's apartment and found it open. She's following her instructions, he thought, having told her not to lock it or try to keep him out in any way.
Walking into the living room, Horse looked around, noticing the comfortable surroundings, the clean, neat kitchen. It wouldn't be difficult living here at all, he thought, instantly expanding his plan for moving in on Honey and Harold.
There was no sound coming from anywhere, no water running in the shower.
Horse paused briefly at the open door of Harold's bedroom, seeing the boy peacefully sleeping. Horse could tell that Harold had a huge morning piss hard-on, because the boy's cock was rigidly upstanding, poking up at the sheet and making it tent up high over the boy's crotch. Chuckling amusedly to himself, Horse gently pulled the door closed and moved onto Honey's big master bedroom.
Hot-box Honey Jacobson wasn't asleep. She had spent much of the night agonizing through her dilemma of being caught committing her horridly incestuous crime, of actually being discovered with her young son's sweet hard boycock raming out her woman's fuck hole, cumming inside her even, to overflowing, his sweet boyfuck fluids trickling out the lips of her cunt and dribbling down her smooth thighs.
Oh, God, she thought, what a night it's been. Then she heard someone sneaking around the apartment. It wasn't young Harold, he had no reason to sneak. It had to be the arrogant German Horse Zumwalt, back for seconds.
Back for seconds. At her thought, Honey's cunt spasmed and the walls of it snapped tightly together. Instantly the juices began flowing just from thinking about Horse's proud horse cock plunging within her vagina again. God, how she hated that monster. His cock, and how she loved to feel it inside her.
She was sitting up in bed, fully awake, looking toward her door as Horse entered the room unannounced.
"Good morning, baby," he said sweetly, holding in reserve all the things he was going to demand of her, just as soon as he fucked her and dropped a load, taking some of the tension out of his heavy-hanging, cum-making balls. "All ready for me, I see."
"You sonofabitch," Honey said, loathing in her voice. But still her old pussy spasmed again and a warmer, heavier flow began gathering just inside the lips of her cunt, making it grow moist and slack, getting ready to receive the heavy-hanging man meat she could see clearly outlined and growing, stretching long inside Horse's tight pants leg.
Horse growled animal-like and started caressing the length of his cock, while opening his pants at the same time. "No, don't get up, dear," Horse said, "I'll be right with you, just as soon as I can get naked."
Honey watched the whole disgusting spectacle as Horse hobbled around on one shoe, taking the other off, then both of them, his socks, finally letting his open pants fall to the floor, standing there in only a pair of faded blue boxer shorts, his whole cock and balls poking heavily out through the gaping fly, and a light blue T-shirt.
Horse pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it, standing in front of Honey with only his boxers on, his genitalia clearly, proudly exposed to her already lust-glazed blue eyes.
Chortling gently, Horse unsnapped the bottom of his boxers and let them fall around his feet, standing completely naked in front of Honey, his long, gnarled-looking cock slowly rising to a full stand, arching out heavily over his sagging, ball-twisting ballsac, covered with coarse blond man hairs.
Horse picked up his cock shaft and stretched it out, pulling at it and watching it shape up more firmly in front of him, rising to a full right angle then, slowly, tilting its broad head upward even further.
"See," he said, "how my cock wants you, Honey. You're the very best it's ever known. You do such wonderful things to my old cock, baby. Are you ready to do some more?"
Honey seemed to cringe and try to pull the sheet up higher over her naked body, to hide her uptilting breasts and already rigid nipples, but to no avail. Horse rudely jerked the sheet down, baring all her body to his starkly blue eyes, looking down upon her naked flesh with runaway desire in his eyes.
"A little head, baby," Horse said, "to start with." And he moved onto the bed until his cock was pushed right against Honey's sweet pouty lips, the drooling cocklips smearing pre-cum in a pearly dab just on the edge of her mouth.
"Just a little, we don't rush these things," he said, talking while she slowly parted her lips and took his "cockhead inside. "Yes, just like that, just the head of my cock. Honey, no more. Don't rush things, make this fuck last ... Oh, God, you do my dick so good....
"Yes, yes, that way, with your tongue, poke it down inside my piss hole. Yes, God, that's wonderful. I've never been so hot. so hard, in my whole life. God, you suck cock best of all."
Honey leaned into her enforced task, chewing down hard on Horse's cockhead, deliberately trying to hurt him to cut into the bulbous flesh, poking her tongue deep into his cockmouth, trying to tear the skin apart. Only she couldn't, and all her frantic efforts to harm him only gave the big hunky blond stud deeper pleasure.
"Yeah, baby, yeah," Horse said, loving the way Honey's tongue laved his much-fucked knob, "only ease back a just a little, I've got something new in mind to try out. It's never happened to me before, until now. I've never found the right chick to do it for me, baby, but you're it."
"What, you disgusting monster?" Honey asked, glaring into Horse's evilly excited eyes.
"You're going to eat out my asshole, baby," Horse said, laughing. "Hot-box Honey's going to eat bung, and she's going to love it." Horse twisted around on the bed until he was face down and up on his knees, his head buried in the mattress and his buttocks mounding high and wide, starkly white in the big bedroom. He reached back with both of his hands and pulled his buttocks apart, as far as he could tug them, and his sweat-wetted ass crack opened before Honey's horrified eyes, the dark brown pucker of his anus almost lost in a small forest of coarse blond man hairs.
"Eat it, baby," Horse said again. "Eat my asshole out until it's clean and sweet."
The strongly pungent smell of Wilhelm's anus assailed Honey's nostrils, along with the heady scent of his sex itself, his balls, right before her nose and, past it, hanging down heavy in almost complete erection, his cock itself.
"Oh, God," she said, breathing in the strongly funky smells of Horse's upturned backside.
"Eat it, I said," he repeated, "eat my asshole, baby. NOW!"
Gasping, sobbing, Honey bent her head forward, presing it between the man's hairy, widespread buttocks, the feverish heat of his asscrack making her face, tight against it, grow flushed and sweaty. She could feel his anus, just under her lips, the tight, smooth ring of it flexing gently, encouragingly, the scent turning sweeter, somehow, in her nostrils. Slowly, groaning inwardly, Honey opened her lips and let them circle around Horse's asshole, kissing him sweetly on his other mouth. Then, knowing she could prolong her agony only so long, Honey slowly let her tongue flick out of her lips to touch the skin of his puckered sphincter, to lick at it, tasting his funkiness, the gritty smoothness of his asshole.
His bung seemed to unfold beneath her touch, gently opening itself to her prying tongue that dug deeper, deeper, into his bowel, licking the sides of his asshole, stretching them out, making them smooth and clean and kissing sweet while the big hunkyman, like a helpless infant, moaned and gasped his pleasure into the mattress, his buttocks gently swaying from side to side as Honey's sweet mouth continued plaguing his bung.
Young Harold Jacobson hadn't been asleep when Horse looked in on him, but he had a real morning piss hard-on, that was for sure. It tented out his sheet alarmingly and Harold's bladder hurt like he had never emptied it at all.
Grabbing at his pants and tugging them on without any underwear, Harold eased out of his room and looked into Honey's through a small crack in the door, seeing her and Horse together on the bed, naked. Honey's dear mouth closed over Horse's incredibly broad cockhead, sucking on it.
Cursing inwardly, Harold went into the living room then the office, flicking the switches on the television monitor until he found the right camera, the one in Honey's bedroom that had a clear focus right onto her bed, onto her cocksucking mouth that wasn't closed around his boyish prick, the dick he wanted her to be sucking at that very moment.
Then, to his stunned amazement, as he began fumbling with the other television controls on the console, he saw Horse move onto all fours, upending his ass and pointing his buttocks toward Honey's face.
Then, hardly realizing what he was actually watching, Harold saw Honey kiss the man's funky old asshole. She actually kissed it, circling it with her lips and closing tight on his asslips like they were on his face, instead of on his crapper. And as the boy watched, he could see she was mouthing it, suctioning, her tongue obviously moving into play, digging down into the man's anus itself, stretching his shitter walls and licking them clean, making them smooth and slick and pliable as they flexed against her tongue caress.
The depravity of it all was almost overwhelming to the fine youngster, but he still knew he had to do exactly what he had thought out during the long, thought-filled night, of how he could get rid of Horse Zumwalt once and for all, and have his loving mother, again, to himself, almost exactly the way he wanted it.
Now if Horse had been a better father image, someone young Harold could really look up to, not just another big dick that needed to be admired, to be used, to be fucked, that would have been different. Harold even tried to reconcile himself to a life of three-way fucking with Horse and his mother, only that just didn't jell in his mind. What Harold thought he needed, what Harold though Honey needed in the way of a live-in grownup lover, was someone much more considerate, more gentle, more mature and refined. Someone much like Rogers M. Dalton, handsome hunky attorney-at-law who, at forty, was five feet ten inches of brown haired, muscular perfection, all one hundred seventy athletic pounds of his healthy frame.
Yes, definitely. Rogers is the man, Harold thought, again confirming his middle-of-the-night decision.
Keeping one eye on the television screen, watching Honey's sweet mouth kissing Horse Zumwalt's arrogantly German asshole, her tongue reaming out his crapper for all she was worth, Harold picked up the telephone and, quietly, began dialing the home number Rogers Dalton had given him for use in any emergency ... "Don't hesitate to call me if you need me," he had said.
Harold had never needed anyone quite so much.
He listened to the ringing of the telephone,-fearful that Mr. Dalton might not be at home and that the boy couldn't reach him, then, finally, he heard his powerful voice on the other end. "Hello," he said, "Rogers Dalton speaking...."
"Oh, thank God I caught you at home," Harold said. "You've just got to help me, we're in ... well, we're in an awful mess, and we need you right now...."
"Harold?" Rogers said, "is that you? What's the trouble, son?"
"There's this horrible man, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, "and I'm ashamed to say he has some awful information about me, a secret, and he's ... well, he's blackmailing me ... and mother. Right now, he's forcing himself on her ... you know ... that way, in bed."
"Oh, God, Harold," Rogers said, "of course I'll help. Do you have something in mind?"
"Yes, I do," the boy said, "so listen carefully...."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Wilhelm Zumwalt's round, fleshy buttocks stuck up into the air and twitched from side to side, his hands firmly pulling his cheeks wide to make room between them. Hot-box Honey Jacobson's hot mouth was locked against his arrogantly German asshole, kissing it, sucking at it, her sweet tongue laving it forcefully, prying, pushing deeply, cleansing it and making it slick and pliable as it gaped slightly in mindless passion.
Never in all her thirty-five years had she been forced to submit to anything quite so disgusting, so nauseating. Yet, were she to admit it to herself, there was something about it that made her pulse beat just a little faster, the juice flowing inside her soft buttery cuntal walls a little faster, the juice flowing inside her soft buttery cuntal walls a little hotter, the spasming clenching of her loins a bit more frantic paced. It wasn't because it was an asshole she was kissing, or that it was Horse's, but rather than she was being forced to do it and nothing she could do about that could change one second of the passing time to anything different.
Because it was completely beyond her control, she was free for the first time in her life to submit completely to the demands, however depraved, of a thoroughly sexual, thoroughly male being. For months she had watched Wilhelm convertly as he stroked his cock, even revealing it completely to her through the secret television camera in the men's washroom, on more than one occasion.
His incredible horse-like cock. Almost too big and gnarled and irresistible-looking to hang from the loins of any mere man, topped off by incongruously subtle blond pubic hairs that should have been on an angel, not a fuck-devil.
But it wasn't his huge, vein-roped cock that Honey was pleasuring, it was his asshole, funky and crinkled and curled up inside her mouth, the sphincter relaxed and throbbing, pulsating, flexing open and closed against her laving tongue like a being alive, not just Wilhelm's neither lips, the funky, gritty exit of his bowel, the strongly fragrant man essence heavy indeed as it surrounded Honey's sweet blonde head, nestled tightly inside the sweat-slick crack of Horse's ass.
"Yeah, baby," Horse said, "eat my asshole good. Shit! I've never had this done for me before, never. It feels ... well, it's different, slickingand slidingaround, your tongue driving me crazy."
Honey could hardly hear what he was saying, so confused was her mind with a mixture of being forced to do the horrible thing and, somehow, being thrilled by it at the same time, secretly. A secret she knew she could never share with another living soul for fear of being thought altogether too wicked.
"Okay, baby," Horse said, '-'that's about enough, my asshole's twitching like a cat's crapper already. It's so good I feel like cumming, and I don't want to yet."
He deliberately pulled his hairy ass away from Honey's sweet blonde head, but not before a powerful rush of air, outwardly propelled, fluttered out directly into her face.
She paled and he began laughing, flopping back over onto his back, his hot hard cock rigidly upangled in front of him and waving in the air. "Now, Honey," he said, "give me some more head. Grease up my knob good so I can fuck you smooth and easy, only make sure you don't make me cum in your mouth. That can happen the next time, or the next. Right now I just want to put it in your pretty little pussy and fuck you all day long. Slick it up good. Go ahead, suck my cock."
Gasping for breath that didn't stink strongly of Horse's foulness and hot, pent-up gasses, Honey stuck out her tongue and began licking all over Horse's cockhead, unknowingly teasing the man as she pleasured his glans thoroughly. She had even poked the tip of her tongue deep into his pisshole, suctioning up his pre-cum, before he groaned in ecstasy, pushing his hips up toward her face, trying to put the head of his cock inside her mouth.
Honey wouldn't take it, she just continued caressing his dickhead with feather-light tongue touches, laving all around the knob including under the bottom, teasing the juncture of the bottom of his glans and the raggedly cut skin of his butchered-up circumcision, then around to the front, moving just along the broad, flaring rim of his coronal ridge.
Only then did she part her lips and sink her head down over the big fat cockhead, taking the whole wide, much-fucked knob into the back of her throat and suctioning strongly, compressing her lips and cheeks tight against his fuck flesh and pulling at it, reaching deep into the very pit of his groin with her strenuous cum-sucking movements.
Writhing in pleasure, tossing his head one way and his hips another, Horse took Honey's head in his hands and bobbed it up and down, fucking himself with it as he, in turn, fucked his hips upward, driving part of his fat cock shaft into Honey's mouth along with the big fat knob of his dick. His balls pounced wildly, rising up and falling down with a slapping sound against his thighs, the spit-slicked crack of his thoroughly clean ass, and they started drawing up tighter against the root of his cock, getting ready for the fountaining of his fuck fluids.
"Christ, Honey," Horse said, "no one sucks my cock quite like you do. It feels like you're trying to pull all of it right down into your belly. You're like a cum vampire who hasn't eaten in a year. Shit, you're going to make me cum, and I told you I'm not ready yet. Stop it. Goddamnit! Stop sucking my cock."
Horse pulled her head abruptly up off of his knob and it bobbed right in her face, striking her nose and her cheeks, leaving heavy marks of her spit and his pearly pre-cum streaking across her face.
"Now," he said, "it's time to fuck. My cock's never been readier than it is right now. Your cunt's going to love it, baby, just love it. Only how? Which way should I fuck you this time, Honey? You cockloving bitch you...."
Horse mused for just a moment then his expression changed and he broke out into a wide grin.
"Yeah," he said, "that's it. Honey, we're going to stand-up dog fuck. You'll love it. That way I can really long-dick you, make you feel all of my cock and beg for more of it. Go on, get off the bed and bend over."
"Oh, God," Honey said, quickly moving to obey the big blond brute, standing beside the bed and bending over, upturning her sweet blonde buttocks until the crack of her ass parted and, between her slightly spread legs, the drooling lips of her juiced-up cunt parted sibilantly.
Laughing, Horse jumped off the bed beside her, his heavy hard cock moving caressingly over her back and down her buttocks, the fat spit-wet head of it nestling in the sweaty crack of her ass, the lips of his cockhead kissing the lips of her anus. For just a moment she thought he intended to put it in her there, only they both knew it was much too huge for that. It would rip her flesh cruelly should he try to force his enormous cock up into her tiny asshole.
Then Horse took the shaft of his cock in his hands and used it like a pointer, dragging it again and again through the parted lips of her cuntal mouth, intermingling Honey's spit, Horse's pre-cum and Honey's pussy juice, again and again dragging the bump of his coronal ridge over her tingling clitoris, making it stand out and throb, wanting more and more of his dick-prods.
Then, without any warning, Horse dipped is knees slightly to line up the angle of penetration better and jammed the whole head of his cock tightly inside Honey's cuntal mouth.
She gasped and sagged forward from the force of his cock entry, though the sensations that rushed through her were like pure ecstasy itself, bathing her cunt, her entire groin in passionate pulsations.
"Okay, bitch," Horse said, "brace yourself. I'm going to give you the full treatment in a hurry so you can get used to the feel of my cock, to the size of it, before I start fucking. Here ... it ... comes...."
And as he said the words, he pushed his hips forward, sinking his cockshaft up inside Honey' hot box.
Watching through the television monitor, young Harold Jacobson couldn't really believe what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Horse and Honey were standing in perfect profile to the television camera and the videotaping attachment relentlesly recorded every move they made and young Harold could see in flawless detail.
No one had a cock that big, that long, to begin with, young Harold knew. It had to be some trick of the televison set-up, and while it looked like Horse was pushing it into his sweet mother's sweeter cunt, he just had to be pulling some of it out, to make it look as long as it did, then pushing it back in again.
Only he wasn't. It was all cock, and it was all moving in only one direction. IN! Into Honey's incredible pussy, pushing deeper into the soft buttery depths of it inch by incredibly long hard fat inch.
To young Harold, it looked as if it took ten minutes for Horse to put all of it up inside his mother's cunt, though in reality it was but half that long. It was Horse's cock that was twice that long, and all of it was finally buried inside Honey.
She was bent over from her hips, her body hanging limp and lifeless as it was skewered by the biggest cock in the world. After it was all buried up inside her, she began moving, twisting her torso first one way then another, bending back, flexing her muscles, pulling, straining against Horse's horse cock, feeling of it inside her from every angle, pushing against her rippling, overstuffed cuntal walls from every side at the same time. Finally she tried to stand up, pulling it along with her body, only there was too much to his cock for that, and it was far too hard to bend with her body, ,she had to slump back over to accommodate it at the best angle for her own comfort and pleasure.
Somehow, with Horse's cock inside her, she didn't give a single thought to his comfort and pleasure, it felt that good to her to have it, to possess it, to clasp it tightly and possessively, knowing that at that moment it was without question exclusively all hers, every hard, fat inch of it.
Laughing, Horse flexed his muscles and caused a ripple to move along the length of his cock and the head, deep inside Honey's cunt, to expand slightly and throb strongly. When Honey felt the movements inside her, she gasped in surprise and pushed back harder against Horse's blond pubic hairs, wanting to take even more of his fascinating horse cock into her greedy fuck hole, but there was nothing left but his balls, solidly pressed against her clit, his coarse pubic hairs making her sensitive love button blush with pride and pulsate feverishly.
"I guess you're about as ready as you'll ever be, bitch," Horse said. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, this way, baby. You're going to be eating my cock from the inside, 'cause I'm going to ram it all the way up into your fuckin' throat. Get ready, because here it comes...."
Horse made a few tentative hunching motions, moving his cockshaft in and out of Honey's hot box for just a few inches, making sure of the slick lubrication and the line up of the angles. Sure that everything was all right and that his cock would move smoothly inside her clasping flesh, judging just where to stop pulling at it to keep at least half of his fat cockhead still inside her cuntal lips, not wanting to break the fiery fleshy contact of cock-in-cunt. Horse began double timing her instantly, pulling all of his fat long hard cock shaft out at once then ramming all of it solidly back up inside her instantly, causing the sweetest. tightest, hottest friction either of them had ever known to zero in on their sex flesh.
Only the tingling, blood-filled head of Horse's cock seemed to exist to him. It was the single pleasure-point of the whole wide world. Only her clit, brutally assaulted again and again by his flopping, flesh slapping ballsac with its coarse pubic hairs, seemed to exist for Honey, and that sliding, flesh expanding ramrod that rippled through her clasping cuntal walls like a piston in a big machine.
Her mind cut off to everything but the fuck of the moment. His mind cut off to everything but the fuck of the moment. They were just a big machine. A big fuck machine, the single-minded piston of which drilled relentlesly, producing the single product of the machine, pleasure.
And cum.
What would probably turn out to be gallons of cum, once the floodgates opened and the machine started pouring out the fruits that were being pumped to the surface inside it, just on the verge of being released to spill over the overflow of cock-in-cunt, of balls-to-clit, of his hairy belly bent over her sweet buttocks, fucking her like a dog, drilling out her hole like never before, really long-dicking her by pulling his whole cock out again and again, just leavingthc lips of his cockhead maintaining contact with the lips of her cuntal mouth.
Young Harold thought it was terribly exciting, watching the man fuck his mother that way, and his cock had been hard inside his pants for a long time already. It was almost all he could do to keep from taking it out and caressing it, to soothe away the pain he felt, to cum, to relieve the sweet tension building up inside his young groin, his feverish loins.
Harold also wonderd if it would be as exciting to fuck his mother that way, from the back, like a dog, as it looked like it was. And, more than that, if it would look as exciting to someone else watching young Harold fuck his mother dog-style. Someone good, like Rogers Dalton, not someone bad, like Wilhelm Zumwalt.
As the thought came to young Harold, he began wondering how much time had passed since his phone call to the attorney, and how long it would take Dalton to get there.
He could hardly tear is eyes away from the furious fucking going on inside his mother's bedroom, by way of the television monitor, but his thoughts of Dalton drove him to do it.
Harold went to the office door and started down into the yard where the employees were going on about their day's business completely oblivious to the sultry, exciting orgy going on over their heads. Walking around several cars being customized, nodding to an occasional mechanic, a body man, Harold went through the large open double gates and stood out in the street, looking for the attorney's car.
At last he saw it, coming down the street fast enough to get two speeding tickets at least, then Rogers Dalton saw the boy waiting for him and waved out of his window as he pulled into the gates and abruptly parked in the first open spot he could find.
Harold was right beside the car as Rogers opened the door and stpped out. "I got here as quick as I could, Harold," he said, gripping the boy strongly by his shoulder, reassuring him that everything would be taken care of, finally, by a man who knew what he was doing.
"Thank God you got here, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, "they're still at it, upstairs. Come on, hurry, this way."
Harold bolted up the stairs two at a time, with Rogers right behind him but once they entered the office, Harold motioned for him to be quiet as they checked the television monitor and. briefly, watched the frantic fucking going on, Horse's enormous cock drilling in and out of Honey's upturned cunny at a furious pace, the videotaper recording every long-dick stroke of the dog-style fuck.
"I've been recording it for a long time," Harold said, pointing out the tape casette.
"Good, Harold," Rogers said, "you did the right thing." Efficiently, thoroughly in charge, Rogers took over. He turned off the recorder and took the tape cassette in his hand, holding it securely because it contained all the evidence he needed to free Honey from her depraved bondage, to free the young boy from having to be a party to it.
"Okay, son," Rogers said, "how do I get into that room?"
"Just follow me, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, opening the door into the living room.
The two of them went straight into Honey's big bedroom and walked up behind Horse without him even knowing there was anyone in the apartment, so intent was he upon his own pleasure, upon the incredible sensations surrounding the head of his cock, drilling into Honey's hot box.
She, of course, did not know they were there.
Her head was bent far forward and her eyes closed, her concentration devoted exclusively to the burgeoning, flesh pumping sensations of her cuntal walls, her battered, lust-pleasured clitoris.
"All right, you sonofabitch!" Rogers said, striking Wilhelm resoundingly across his flexing, pumping buttocks ... "you've had it."
Startled, his eyes glazed over with lust, Horse pulled his cock free of Honey's cunt and spun around ... it pulsated and flexed, so close was he to his cumming, but Rogers had forced him to stop his fucking prematurely and Horse's cum was not to flow.
"Get your things on and leave, you bastard," Rogers said, showing him the tape casette. "And don't you ever come back or I'll have your ass locked up forever. I've got your red-handed, right here on this tape, and there's not a judge in the county who wouldn't like to deal with you, you depraved monster."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rogers M. Dalton, at forty, thought he had seen everything, but he had been wrong. Nothing he had ever witnessed came close to being as intensely exciting as the sight of Wilhelm Zumwalt's incredibly used cock, plunging full length into the upturned cunt of Hot-box Honey Jacobson, her ass upended, the arrogant German fucking her dog-style, leaning into her standing body, reaming her cock hole out for all it was worth.
It had been bad enough that the hunky shop foreman had forced his sexual appetites upon the petite blue eyed blond, but to actually do it in front of her impressionable son Harold was too much to bear, especially as the young boy witnessed the entire depraved event, from start to finish, on more than one occasion.
Little wonder the boy sought help from the handsome older man, his mother's attorney, after he decided that the web he had become entangled in did, indeed, hold him helpless captive, all because Horse had discovered the boy with his mother, engaging in innocent sex play, or so Harold wanted to think of it.
That one event, caught redhanded by the swaggering German, had been enough to ensnare both the young boy and his mother in Zumwalt's crazy scheme of conquest. It wasn't enough that he wanted to use Honey's body in one disgusting sexual fashion after another, but he also expected the boy to watch, and to participate in, actually becoming a part of the man's multi-fleshed orgies.
Little Harold thanked the day he thought of Rogers Dalton, and remembered the man's sincere offer to assist the boy, whenever it was needed.
Watching Horse force himself upon his mother, having her eat out his filthy asshole and then making her suck his big fat cock made Harold realize that the time had never been more perfect for Dalton to come, like a white knight on a charger, rushing to the rescue. As the boy telephoned Dalton at his home, asking him to rush over before going to his office to rescue both his mother and himself, he hoped against hope that Zumwalt would still be at it when Dalton arrived, so he could see for himself the filthy way he was treating his mother. Harold wasn't sure the videotape casette of the forced fucking would be enough, and he wanted Dalton to see it for himself, at first hand, so he could become properly enraged at Honey's debasement and degradation.
It had worked like a charm, from the moment Dalton parked his car in the yard and rushed upstairs with Harold to check out he television monitor, to see the horrible way Horse was forcing Honey to accept his huge cock, long-dicking her with it, plowing it into her poor pussy, the entire length all at once, again and again.
Dalton had become instantly furious at the blond giant and attacked him physically with the tape casette, pounding him over his buttocks with it, his back, startling him and aborting his dog-style fuck, forcing Horse to pull his cock out of Honey's box before he finished, before he had his cum, the pleasure denied him at the final moment, just literally seconds away from his massive, copious orgasm.
In shock, Horse's cock had withered, shrinking rapidly and curling up into itself, still glistening with his pre-cum and Honey's pungent pussy juice and, in almost stunned silence, the big, tall German had done as Dalton directed, putting on his clothes and leaving as rapidly as he could, obeying Dalton's commands to leave and never return, or else he would find himself locked into prison for many years yet to come.
With him finally gone, both Harold and Dalton checking, watching him leave the compound and then locking both the office door and the door into the Jacobson apartment, they went back into Honey's big master bedroom, finding her in the shower, washing away the evidence of Horse's forced fucking, trying to remove all traces of his hunky body, his strong male fragrance, from her delicate body, the sensitive tissues of her soft flower-like cunt. It had been a very quick shower, but something she thought of as being absolutely necessary. She was toweling herself dry, standing in the middle of the bathroom floor, when Rogers and Harold entered it.
"Oh, Rogers," Honey said, holding the towel coyly before her, trying to hide the shell-pink nipples of her breasts, the perfect hear of her blonde pubic hair, "I'm so ashamed for what I've done, and for your seeing me that way. I had hopes that ... someday ... you and I...."
"Hush, woman," Dalton said, still feeling very much the man in charge, his adrenalin pounding through his veins and his cock well on the rise. "He's gone now, and I don't think he'll ever be back. Whatever happened between the two of you ... well, the three of you ... is in the past. I think we can handle it, don't you?"
"I know I can, Mr. Dalton," Harold said, grinning up at the handsome attorney.
"And, Harold," Dalton said, "since I'm about to ball your mother, don't you think it's about time you started calling me Rogers? After all, I'm not your father, just your friend."
"Wow, you sure move fast, Mr. D ... uh, Rogers," Harold said, watching the man rip away the towel from in front of Honey, who just stood there smiling, her eyes beginning to glaze over in anticipation.
"Oh, hurry, Rogers," Honey said. "I can't wait to see you, to look at you naked."
Rogers laughed and looked down at himself. The bulge beneath his tight white briefs radiated heat heavily and seemed to stretch, elongating while the three of them looked at it. "You mean this thing?" Rogers said, quickly snaking his shorts down his legs and standing proudly upright, letting them look at his exposed sex flesh for the very first time, his heavy hanging cock already strongly tumescent and angling outward, arching over his lush-looking ballsac.
"Oh, God, Rogers," Honey said, seeing that his cock, like her son's was uncircumcized, it's ... it's beautiful. Just imagine, my two fine men both have foreskins. Two super-sensitive cockheads that I can play with and give pleasure to to my heart's content."
"Not unless you start pretty quickly, Honey," Rogers said. "I told you, I'm so hot already my nuts are about to pop off all by themselves, just from looking at your body like this, and wanting you so much I can't stand it."
Oh, yes, yes, Rogers," Honey said, reaching out and taking his hard cock in her hand and peeling back the foreskin, baring his broad, man-sized cockhead completely, looking at it for the first time in her life close up, and liking what she saw.
With her other hand she grabbed Harold by the cock shaft, pulling back his foreskin and baring it completely, though she had already seen it before, tasted it, known it.
"Oh, God," she said, "they're both so wonderful." Using the two cocks like handles, she pulled the two men forward, close to each other, and butted their cockheads up against each other, mashing their cocklips together in a cock-to-cock kiss, intermingling the man's copious pre-cum and the boy's pearly white young juices.
Gasping, sobbing, Honey fell to her knees before the two hansome men and opened her mouth wide, taking into it both their mashed-together cockheads, sucking furiously, tonguing them from side to side until they both grew bigger, filling her mouth to overflowing, and forcing her to back off of the double hard double cockhead.
"Oh, Rogers," Honey said, standing up again. "I've just got to have it inside me. Please. Do it quickly. You can cum right away, I know it'll make you feel better, then we can have all the time in the world to get it up again, so I can really please you."
She fell back on the bed, opening her arms wide, her arms and her legs, beckoning to the older man. Quickly Rogers clambered up between her legs, hesitantly, cautiously, wondering how it would feel to him to actually stick his cock up inside her, after wanting to do so for several years, then his thinking ceased, because his cock, all by itself, nestled between Honey's hot cuntal lips and butted against her clitoris in a fiery kiss before bobbing once, and submerging inside her soft butter fuck flesh, going straight to the cock-milking depths of her snapping, meat-filled fuck hole.
Rogers gasped aloud and began plunging his hot hard dick into her pussy again and again, pulling it almost all the way out then sinking it back into the fire-like furnace that rippled tightly along the whole long length of his cock shaft. Nothing had ever felt so good to him in all his life.
"Oh, God, Rogers," Honey said, "your cock feels huge inside me, even better than Horse's big whopper! I know the difference, too, it's because you're sincere and considerate, you don't just think of me as a cunt, but as a whole woman. I can tell, just from the way you're fucking me, and I've never been so thrilled before, not ever.
"Come here, Harold," she said, "there's plenty of room for you, too."
"Christ," the boy said, loudly, as Honey's lips closed around his boycock head and her tongue began laving the knob, slipping down into his pisshole and nursing there strongly. "It feels so good, your mouth on my cock."
"And my cock in your cunt," Rogers said, gasping for breath, his face pushing against Harold's buttocks and forcing more of the boy's cock into his mother's mouth as Rogers forced more of his cock into her spasming, cum-siphoning cunt mouth.
Honey pulled off of Harold's cockhead and twisted her head to the side so she could speak and be heard. "I'm willing, lover," Honey said, "as long as there's room for the three of us, and nothing can come between us to make it turn bad."
"Oh, yes, Honey," Rogers said, still plunging his hard prick into her pussy to the very depths of it, his balls solidly pounding against her asshole, "it excites me in some strange way just watching you with Harold, knowing he's watching me with you."
"Yes, yes, that's right, Rogers," Harold said. "I know it, I feel it, too."
"Then, there's just one thing left to do," Honey said, "we've got to cum together, to seal the bargain, the three of us all at the same time, gallons and gallons of fresh hot cum."
"God, you better hurry, then, Honey," Rogers said, "I'm almost there already."
"Well, I am, too," she said, "so it's up to you, Harold. Your cum is the thing. When you get off, Rogers and I will, too. So get ready for the cum of your life!"
And saying that, Honey took his cockhead back into her mouth, way down in her throat, and began bobbing at it as the boy mouthfucked her, using an almost exact counterpart of Roger's cock-plunging cuntfucking and as the three of them, together, began sighing and gasping and moaning, the flesh-on-flesh sounds of cock in mouth and cock in cunt filling the air and penetrating the heady scents of three-way fucking, they all began spasming, having the first of many three-way orgasms.
Mother was in the middle, right where she always wanted to be. A honey sandwich filled with Honey and sweet, sweet cum, and two of the biggest, fuckingest cocks in the whole world!
Both of their dicks were hers, at last, and Honey knew that somehow, even if one of them was momentarily emptied, there would always be enough hard man-meat to fill her emptiness. There would always be enough cum to lubricate the everyday anxieties enough so Honey, sliding through the rest of her days, would move easily and comfortably upon a pathway slicked down with Rogers' semen and with her own dear son's deliciously irresistible ejaculations.
