Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   "Raffaela is coming for dinner, tonight, Jim," my mother said to me as I
walked into the kitchen.  "She"ll be here about 7:00."

   "What are we having?"

   "Stew."

   Raffaela is my aunt.  She's also my mother's twin sister.  They're
identical.  That is a problem for me because they are both beautiful.  My
aunt got a divorce a short time ago.  She's living alone.  The divorce was
difficult and bitter and she often talks about it.

   My mom's name is Gabriella.  She's a nurse at the biggest hospital in
the city, and works different shifts.  It's unpredictable when she will be
home.  Raffaela has an apartment close by.  It's on the way to the park
where she jogs so, sometimes, when Raffaela stops by and I'm home it's just
the two of us.  We've become good friends.

   I'll be going to college in the fall, leaving home for the first time.
Mom will be alone for the first time, too, since dad died two years ago. 
Since that sad time we've grown much closer.

   Our relationship changed, it seems to me, when I was 16 or 17, when she
started treating me more as an adult.  She is interested in lots of things
and talks to me about them.  Our conversation is never boring.  And, of
course, she has also talked to me about sex, how she said she needed to
have this conversation with me, how I am becoming a young man now, and how
she understands (not!) what is going on with me, and, firmly, about the
need to show respect for girls, and about how to avoid getting one of them
pregnant.

   I can't take my eyes off her when she is talking, her eyes looking at me
and then down and to the side, then moving around, as she follows her
ideas, her full lips forming the words, her bright teeth, her clear
sincerity I listen although I almost can't hear her.

   I'm grateful for her being so open with me.  These conversations changed
everything.  Gradually, my mother seemed less a mother than a friend, one
grown-up talking to another.  I was thankful for the compliment.

   The kitchen opens to the living room There's a circular table at one
corner where we eat, some couches and chairs, a fireplace, the television
set and stereo, windows looking out at the lake, the mountains in the
background.

   "Good, " I said.  I patted her on the back, a stroke, actually, from her
neck down her back, and then went to the couch and turned on the TV.

   "She should be here soon," my mother said, brightly, over a clatter of
dishes and pans.  She wanted her sister and me to be friends.  "She likes
you, Jim, I know she does, and she needs a friend."

   I was thinking of my hand on her back.  It was just casual, but I was
conscious of the stroke, and the wide band of the bra strap when my hand
crossed it on its way down, my thumb tracing the little nubs on her
backbone.  I'd stopped at her waist.  But I knew I'd wanted to go further,
to keep going down, more or less by accident.  She was wearing a blouse and
a short skirt.  No panty hose.  Her lovely legs bare.  The thought of my
hands sliding down to her ass, holding her cheeks, pulling her to me.  But
I banished the thought.

   "I know, mom.  I like her too," I said staring at the moving pictures on
the screen, thinking about the touch of my mother, thinking about her
perfume, about how easy we are with each other, about how easy it is to
talk to her, and how she looks at me, her face alight with love, interest,
attention.  About how she touches me, my arm, my back, how we hug and how I
feel her breath on my neck, her breasts, feeling their fullness against me,
and my hands on the curve of her back, pulling her to me, and how she moves
into me, with no resistance, melting into me, pulling me to her, and the
kisses, on her cheek and, lately, short kisses on her mouth, on her soft
lips, and how they yield and open slightly.  And we have been this way for
months, the kisses getting longer, gradually getting more intense.  She
doesn't seem to notice that I get hard when this happens.  I know we have
thought about it.  About what it might be like.

   "Jim?"

   "Yes?" I look at her.  She has full auburn hair almost to her shoulders.
She's about 5'7", slender, with an athlete's body, square shoulders,
breasts that she is proud of, probably a c or d cup, a slender waist, and
the beautiful bottom I can't help noticing.  And terrific legs.  To my eye,
she is beautiful, with clear skin, lively brown eyes full of humor and
intelligence that look directly at me when she wants me to understand that
she wants me to understand.  She has a lovely mouth, not too wide, with
full lips and good teeth that I'm lucky enough to have inherited.  This
sounds too good to be true, I say to myself, but it is.  My mother really
is this good-looking.

   "Would you set the table, please?" she asks me.

   "Sure" She was looking at me, her face smiling its radiant smile.  I
felt such an attraction to her, to her person, and I walked over to her and
took her in my arms and kissed her on the cheek and then on the mouth, just
a short kiss, but I was getting used to kissing her and it felt very good.
She didn't seem to mind, and kissed me back.

   While I took out the silverware she poured us each a glass of wine. 
"Raffaela feels bad, Jim."

   "She always feels bad, she's always singing the blues," I said, and
regretted it because I sympathize with Raffaela.  I was setting the table
slowly, taking my time, taking sips of wine, talking to mom about work and
my new school term coming up, and then stopped and walked back into the
kitchen.  Mom was at the stove, stirring the stew.  I don't know why but I
walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck.

   She craned it to me and said, "Jim, don't do that to your poor mother."

   "You're just too nice.  I like you," I said to her.  "And you look
great."

   She turned to me and put her arms around my neck.  "And you're my fine
son in whom I am well pleased." She grinned and I kissed her again, but
this time a little longer, her wonderful mouth on mine, open a little, our
tongues just touching barely, and she again melted in my arms and her
breasts pressed against me.

   She pulled her head back, looked at me and smiled, but she didn't pull
her body back.  I was hard and she felt it.  "Jimmy!" she said.  My hands
went down her sides and I could feel the sides of her breasts on my way
down.  "Jimmy!" The wine had gone a little to my head and I moved my hands
up to her breasts, cupping them, feeling their fullness.  "Jimmy, stop
that!" she said.

   I was surprised at my boldness and passion.  I was rock hard, pressing
against her.  "What are you doing, you naughty boy?" she said but said it
in a loud whisper and I heard the tension in her voice and I knew she liked
it, liked the touch of me against her, my hands on her breasts.  She pushed
away from me, her face flushed.  "Jimmy.  I'm your mother." I moved back,
embarrassed.  I was hard, my cock jutting against my pants and I saw her
notice.

   "Sorry mom, the wine, I guess."

   She looked at me, a frown on her face.  "Maybe you should pour me
another glass." I moved away from her, grateful to break the spell and
re-filled her glass and mine.  When I turned around again she was back at
the stove, stirring the stew.  I brought the wine glass to her and set it
on the counter.

   "I'm sorry, mom, I don't know what came over me."

   "That's alright, Jimmy," she said, but she didn't look at me and I was
afraid to say anything more.  "Raffaela should be here soon."

   "Look mom, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have touched you." I blurted it out.
I was embarrassed and felt terrible that I might have offended her.

   But she turned to me and said, "Don't worry, honey." She looked down,
then said "You know, sometimes I do have to remember who you are.  You are
a very good looking young man and I admit sometimes I look at you like a
woman would look at a handsome man and maybe I led you on."

   I blushed.  "I look at you the same way.  The wine let me act on it." We
looked at each other, a little startled at the candidness of what we had
just said, that we had both been thinking about this for a while, not just
tonight.  Something had been acknowledged that wouldn't have been
ordinarily, and now it was out in the open.  "I'm glad you're not mad."

   "No, honey, I'm not mad." But she still looked concerned, thoughtful, as
if she were considering something serious she hadn't thought of before.

   She turned back to the stove and pretended to stir the stew and then
started on a salad.  Her back was to me and her shoulders were a little
slumped, turned inward, like her thoughts, and I felt another wave of
remorse coupled with another wave of desire.  I stepped over to her and put
my hands on her shoulders.  "I'm so sorry, mom." But she turned to me and
put her arms around me and pulled me to her.

   "That's alright honey," she said, and then I was kissing her again.  But
it was different, as though we both knew a line had been crossed and
something had changed.  I kissed her again, my mouth open, tongue probing a
little, like a lover.  And she didn't pull away.  I moved my hands to her
breasts again and this time she just moaned and leaned into me.  Our kiss
went on, my tongue probing, her tongue meeting mine.  Her breasts were so
soft and I was cupping and squeezing them.  She pushed her front against me
and I pushed back, my hard cock now uncomfortably at an angle.  I reached
down to push it up and the back of my hand was against her front, against
her pussy, and I turned it and rubbed her mound.

   "Oh, Jimmy," she said.  "We can't." But her breath was coming short and
hard, and she wasn't pulling away.  "Jimmy, Jimmy," she was saying.  I
pulled her blouse free of her skirt and felt the coolness of her back, the
smoothness of her skin, moving up to her bra and unhooking it.  I will
never forget the release of her breasts, their heaviness against me when
freed and for the first time touched them and felt her nipples hard and
pointed.

   We were kissing again and I heard her moans as I cupped and kneaded
them. My cock was as hard as it's ever been.  "I want you to see it," I
said, and I unzipped my pants and pulled it out.  I had measured before. 
It was seven inches of thick, hot, hard muscle straining toward her.  I
grabbed her hand and pushed it down.  She gasped at first touch and then
grabbed it and held it.

   My hands were on her breasts, feeling their marvelous soft denseness,
our mouths exploring each other, my other hand moving down to her pussy,
rubbing it.  "Oh Jimmy," she said to me.  "Hurry, please hurry.  Right
here." She sank down to the floor, the kitchen vinyl floor, and I sank down
with her.  Like something folding down.  We were on the floor.  I opened my
belt and pushed my pants and underwear down.  I moved up, over her, on my
knees, my cock standing up, looking down at her, then pushed her skirt up
and pulled her panties down and off.  She raised her hips to help me.

   I opened her blouse up past her breasts, leaving them free, and looked
at her, "Hurry, Jimmy, don't talk.  Just hurry.  I don't want to think,"
she said.  And I looked down at her, at her full breasts with their dark
nipples, erect and standing, and down to her pussy with its thick brown
soft hair, a little crinkly, and I kissed her, her mouth now completely
open to me, her tongue probing.  "Jimmy, Jimmy, hurry, please!" she said.

   I had my cock in my hand, rubbing it on her pussy, up and down on her
slit, probing a little ...  She opened her legs wider.  "Yes, yes, hurry."
She reached down and grabbed my cock and put the head in her opening and I
pushed in and felt myself engulfed in her warmth and heat.  And we both
groaned.  "Oh, yes, Jimmy honey, fuck me, baby" she said.  She had her arms
around my neck, pulling me to her to kiss her, my cock completely inside
her, and just beginning to stroke her.  "Faster honey, hurry.  Fuck me
harder, baby".

   I started pumping, slow and then a little faster.  "Yes, yes, that's it,
honey.  You feel so good." I started to fuck her faster, harder, pushing my
cock all the way in on each stroke, pushing hard and fast.  "That's it,
baby." Breathing hard, "That's how." Her hands were rubbing my back, her
legs around me.  "Mmmm, You're so good." Fucking her faster.  "Jimmy,
baby!"

   Just then the door bell rang.  "Shit!" she said.  I was shocked.  I had
never heard her say that word.  "It's Raffaela!  Jesus!  Shit!" she said.
"Stop!  We have to stop!"

   I pulled out of her and stood up.  She got up too, put her breasts back
in the bra and reached around to clip it, then got her panties and put them
on, pulling them up, me staring at her, wordless, in shock over what had
almost happened, my cock sticking out, still hard and wet from her.  She
smoothed her skirt and blouse, preoccupied, then looked at me and down at
my cock.  "Jimmy, fix yourself.  Raffaela is here.  We have to open the
door.  Act normal," she said, as if I wouldn't.  "Hurry!  Go in the
bathroom and fix yourself, Jimmy." She looked at me.  "Hurry baby." She
reached down and squeezed my cock.  "Later.  How do I look?  Am I smeared?"

   "You're fine," I said.  She smiled at me as I left for the bathroom and
she turned to go to the door.

   I went into the bathroom and thought of illegal fish kills and homeless
people to get the my goddamn cock down.  "Hi all," I heard Raffaela say. 
"What a wonderful evening!" I checked my face, still all blotchy, and wiped
mom's lipstick off my mouth.  Smoothed my hair.  Jesus!  I couldn't believe
what had just happened!  I stood by the toilet peeing, thinking, trying to
calm down.  Time to go out.

   I went into the kitchen.  Mom and Raffaela were talking.  "Hi, Jim,"
Raffaela greeted me, her face all smiles.

   "Hi, Raffaela.  Nice to see you," I said.

   Raffaela was in a black sweater and short black skirt, almost like mom.
She had the same wonderful figure, of course.  Mom looked at me.  Her
earlier smile had been modified by anxiety and strain.  I wondered what was
on her mind.

   Dinner was uneventful.  Raffaela told us about her adjustment problems.
Mom and I listened, exchanging glances every now and then.  I couldn't read
her face, but Raffaela didn't seem to notice anything.

   The stew was wonderful.  We had some more wine after dinner, at the
table, talking and laughing some more.  Mom seemed to relax gradually and
was almost her usual self when Raffaela announced she was tired and needed
to go home and get to bed early.  It was only about 8:30.

   "Good idea," mom said.  "I'm tired too." She looked at me.  "Jimmy, why
don't you walk Raffaela home?"

   "Sure," I said.  We carried our dishes into the kitchen and put them in
the sink, running some water over them.

   "I don't know why I'm so tired," mom said.  "I think I'll leave these
for tomorrow."

   "Can I help?" Raffaela asked.

   "No, no," mom said.  She put the leftover stew in the refrigerator while
Raffaela and I walked to the door.

   "Goodnight Gabriella," Raffaela called.  "Thanks for the wonderful
dinner.  See you soon."

   I opened the door for Raffaela and she stepped out.  I looked over at
mom and she was looking back at me, the mixture of anxiety and strain back
on her face.  "See you soon," I said and I was out the door.

   Raffaela and I fell into an easy pace, matching each other's steps.  The
evening was just right, still in the mid-60's, quiet and with the warm air
still fragrant with spring in the fading light.  I looked over at Raffaela,
admiring how lovely she looked and noticing her breasts moving a little as
she walked.  I put my arm around her waist and she moved closer to me so we
were almost touching.  And then she put her arm around my waist, and we
were touching, I could feel the gentle touch of her breast against my side
and her hip against mine.

   "Your mom seemed a little quiet tonight," she said.  "Everything OK?"

   "Sure," I said.

   "I think she's just tired.  She's been working a lot lately.  She loves
you so much," she said.  "I don't think she is looking forward to you
leaving."

   "I'm not either," I said.

   Raffaela looked up at me.  "Spend as much time with her as you can, Jim.
I hope you can do that."

   "Yes, I will," I said.

   "You're a great kid, Jimmy," Raffaela said, and smiled up at me, pulling
me a little closer to her and pressing her breast against my side.  I
smiled back at her and almost bent to kiss her.  I was still riled up.  We
walked along in silence, listening to each other and the evening, until we
reached her door.  She took her keys from her pocket and opened her door.
She turned to me.  "Would you like to come in?" she asked.

   "I should be going home," I said.

   "OK, " she said.  Then she moved forward and put her hand on the back of
my neck and kissed me, her mouth open a little, feeling her breath and her
fingers on my neck, smelling her perfume.

   She leaned against me.  "Mmmm Jimmy," she said, as she turned toward the
door.  "That was nice." She smiled at me.  "Well, goodnight.  By the way,
can you help me with some shelving I just got?  In the next few days?"

   "Sure," I said.  "Let me know when."

   "OK," she said.  "Goodnight, Jim." And the door closed.

   Jimmy had been replaced by Jim, I thought, as I was walking back home,
my cock semi-hard from the kiss.  And now.  What now.  I started to walk
faster, hurrying toward my mom, toward completing what we had started.  The
thought of her face full of desire, her skin, my belly against hers, her
soft breasts and my hard cock in her warm pussy.  My god!

   When I got home the house was dark.  I went up to my room without
turning anything on, took off my clothes and walked naked into the
bathroom. I turned on the shower, waiting for the hot water, and looked at
myself in the mirror.  Six feet.  About 175.  A good athletic body, I
thought, the result of a couple of years of training in the weight room and
just the rigors of high school football and track.  I was in good shape.

   I looked down at my cock, my guy so eager all the time.  I was about 3
inches soft and 7 hard.  Cut and nicely shaped.  Medium size balls, now
filled and heavy with cum as I held them in my hand, the package surrounded
by thick but soft brown hair.

   I stepped into the shower and gave myself a good scrubbing, then dried
off and put on just a little lotion here and there.  Some deodorant. 
Kidding myself about making myself smell nice but I wanted to be clean, and
I was nervous.  Then, lights off, padding down the hall to her room, naked,
my cock about 1/3 hard swaying in front of me as I walked.

   I didn't knock.  I just walked in and went over to her bed, my cock
getting harder with each step.  Mom was on her side, away from me.  I
pulled back the sheet and slid in beside her.  Her pale blue nightie was
sheer and I could see there was no bra strap but she was wearing panties,
the same shade of light blue.  I just reached out to her shoulder and
turned her toward me.

   Her eyes opened.  "Jimmy!  What are you doing?" I kissed her and moved
my hand to her breast, its warm, fullness in my hand and feeling her nipple
get hard.  I tweaked it between my thumb and forefinger.  My cock was now
full and hard, and pressing against her leg.  She shook her head away from
my mouth.  "Jimmy!  Stop!" she said.  "I've been thinking.  We can't do
this!  It's wrong!"

   "Oh yes we can," I said.  I felt like a train and nothing was going to
stop me.  I kissed her again, squeezing her breast, making her moan.

   "Jimmy!  Please stop!" she said, and I could hear her anxiety.  I moved
my hand up under her nightie and under her panties to her pussy, her legs
tight together, my fingers rubbing her full bush, the same soft brown hair
I had, my finger slipping between her lips.  "Oh Jimmy!  Please honey! 
Don't!"

   But I thought I heard a slight weakening of her resistance.  "Mom, you
know we want it" I was breathing hard but still calm and focused.  "Mom, it
is time." I was whispering, talking fast.  "We came so close earlier.  It's
all I can think of.  I have to have you.""

   Oh, Jimmy," she said.  "Jimmy!" I kissed her again.  And she relaxed and
kissed me back.  I moved my hand away from her pussy back to her breast,
pulling her nightie up, and cupped her other breast, squeezing and rubbing
her nipple.  She was breathing so much faster!  "Oh Jimmy, Oh Jimmy!" she
said.  I kissed her again, this time pushing my tongue in her mouth, and
she responded, kissing me back, a full lovers' kiss.

   Her hands went around my neck and down my back and then up again.  I
pulled her nightie up and off and slid her panties down.  For the second
time she lifted a little to help me.  If the panties had snagged I would
have ripped them off.

   I moved over her, my cock on her pussy, and let my weight down on her
lightly, feeling her soft flesh, her warm belly, her pussy hair against me,
her breasts against my chest.  I kissed her again, and her resistance was
gone.  "Oh Jimmy," she said.  I was rubbing my body on hers, sort of up and
down and back and forth, in a kind of circle, feeling my cock massaging her
pussy lips.  I kissed her again and she kissed me back hard, her hands now
on my back and neck, pulling me to her.  She opened her legs.  "Baby, yes,
hurry, fuck me, baby!"

   "Oh, mom, you feel so good!"

   "You too, baby, but hurry!" She opened her legs wider, then brought them
up and moved her middle so she was pushing up against my cock.  She brought
her hands down to my bottom and pulled me against her, then moved one hand
under me and took my cock.  I lifted a little and she guided it to her
opening.  Up and down.  A little in and then back out.

   "That's it honey," she said.  "Push." And I did, and I was in, again!  I
slid in so nice and easy, she was so ready for me.  "That's it baby," she
said.  Her soft wet warmth enveloping my hard cock, and I started to stroke
her.  "Oh yes, baby, yes, that's it." I was stroking nice and easy and
slow. "Yes, that's it, just like that.  Oh honey it feels so good." She was
holding me so tight, and her breath against my neck and ear and saying in
my ear,"Yes, that's it baby," and I knew I was her lover and no longer just
her son.  I started to fuck her faster.  "Yes, baby, faster.  Fuck me
faster honey!" She moved her legs over my back around my waist, moving in
rhythm with me.  "Oh honey, I'm going to cum!" she said.  I was almost
there too, feeling the heat rise in me and knowing I was just about at the
point of no return.  "Oh baby," She was moaning.  "Oh baby faster!. 
Faster!" I was fucking her as fast as I could, and fucking her with hard,
long strokes, our bodies moving together in complete sync, and then I felt
my cum rising and I knew I couldn't stop.

   "I'm cumming, mom."

   And she said, "Me too baby." And I felt the rush of seed rising and then
with a thrust the first hot jet squirting into her and squirting more cum
with each thrust, the pleasure almost too intense to bear, and she yelled
"OHHHHH!  OHHHHHHHH!  OHHHHHHH!" She was scatching my back and tossing her
head from side to side.  "OHHHHHHHHHH!!!." I was so happy.  Still thrusting
but slower now.  "Oh my god, Jimmy!" She was rubbing my back and kissing me
as I was stroking her, just gradually slowing.  "Mmmmmmmmm," she said. 
"Honey."

   "Don't talk," I said ...  I was still stroking her, all the way in and
all the way out until finally I relaxed and let myself lay on her, on my
elbows a little.  I kissed her.  She was smiling at me, a lovely sleepy
smile.

   "That was wonderful, Thomas," she said, her voice quiet and serious. 
"The best fuck I have ever had.  Thank you.  I love you."

   "You are my woman, now," I said to her.

   "I damn well better be!" she said, and we both laughed.

   "How do you feel?" she asked.

   "Like I've never felt before.  Wonderful.  A man," I said.

   "Yes, you certainly are," she said.  "Do you feel bad?

   "No," I said.

   "Neither do I," she said.

   "We're going to have to do this again," I said.

   "Yes," she said, "again and again." She paused, "and again and again."

   "And more after that," I said.

   And she said, "Yes, and more after that."

   We were looking at each other as if we had just seen each other for the
first time, not smiling, just looking in each other's eyes.  "I love you so
much, Jim"

   "I love you so much, too, Gabriella, my beautiful woman," I said.  I
pulled out and lay beside her, then pulled her over on top of me, with her
legs outside of mine, feeling her wonderful weight on me.  I was still
hard, rubbing my cock at her opening and she lifted a little to help me
push it back inside her.

   "I'm tired, Jim.  Do you mind if we sleep like this for a bit?" she
asked.

   "No, that's fine," I said.

   "I'm do happy, Jim," she said.  "My wonderful lover." She lay her head
on my chest against my neck.  My cock felt so good inside her.  I was
completely comfortable and relaxed, rubbing her back and bottom slowly and
I could feel her breathing become more regular until finally we drifted
off.

   About an hour later we woke up and fucked again, and then again, and
once more before morning.  She taught me how to make love to her pussy with
my mouth, and she took my cock in hers.  I must have made her cum seven or
eight times.  By morning we were like new people and it has been the same
ever since, going on a year now.

   I'm in college, of course, but I transferred to the local university so
I could stay at home.  I didn't leave after all.  The other school had a
better reputation, but this school is less expensive and the books are the
same.  If I can understand the ideas it doesn't matter much to me where I
read them.  And, of course, you have just read about the attractions at
home.  As for Raffaela, well, that's another story for another time.

   (My first story ended after my mother and I became lovers.  This is part
of what happened the next day.)

   I woke up late that next morning, a Saturday.  I looked over at mom,
Gabriella.  She was fast asleep.  I got out of bed quietly and walked down
the hall to the second bathroom.  I was still half hard and had to bend a
little to hit the toilet.  I must have peed for 30 seconds.  The night had
been full of passion and pleasure but what would be her reaction this
morning, when we looked at each other?  I brushed my teeth and walked back
down the hall to see how she was doing.  She had moved but was still
asleep, on her back, her hair spread out against the pillow, her arms up,
her head to the side, the sheet just covering her breasts.  Her mouth was
open a little.  She looked wonderful, calm, at peace, but I felt a stab of
fear that she would regret last night and say we could not do this again. I
went downstairs, still naked, to make coffee.  It was 10:30.  Outside the
sun shone brightly, another beautiful, bright spring day well underway.  I
walked over to the window by the breakfast table, looking outside at the
robins, jays and finches jumping from tree to tree, chirping, sounding
happy.  Hard to think of them as ex-dinosaurs.  I felt calm and confident,
comfortable in my nakedness, proud of my well-used cock.  I would wait for
the coffee, then take a couple of cups upstairs to her bed.  I wanted to
fuck her again.

   When the coffee was ready I poured myself a cup and returned to the
window, one foot on the sill, sipping with one hand, absently fondling my
cock and balls with the other, sort of prepping them, getting them ready. I
was thinking of her last night, seeing her as I had never seen her before,
lost in passion and pleasure, her body open to me, straining toward me,
welcoming me inside her, her whole being responding to me without
reservation or inhibition, her hands on me pulling me to her, her moans of
pleasure.  And I thought I had known her before!  No more jerking off for
me, I thought.  The real thing is so incomparably much better.

   I turned away from the window and walked back into the kitchen.  I went
to the phone and dialed Raffaela's number.

   "Hey, Raffaela," I said, when she answered.

   "Jim ...  Hi," she said.  She sounded sleepy, still in bed.

   "Need help with the shelves?" I asked.  "I could come over this
afternoon."

   "Oh ...  yes, " she said.  "When?"

   "About 4?  Too late?"

   "No, that's fine," she said.  "Where's Gabriella."

   "Asleep," I said.

   There was a pause.  "It might take a couple of hours," she said.

   "Fine," I said.

   "It will be hot today," she said, and paused again.  "I'll put some beer
on ice for you, Jimmy." She sounded wide awake now and I could hear the
smile on her face.

   I skipped a beat, too, before I said, "See you at 4."

   Another short pause.  "See you then," she said.

   "Looking forward to it, Raffaela."

   "Me, too.  Jimmy." Another pause.  "Bye."

   I had gone back to stroking my cock while talking to her and I was half
hard when I hung up.  The pauses-- there seemed to be some tension between
us.  I thought of the kiss when I left her, and how soft her lips were.

   I went back to the kitchen, re-filled my cup and got a tray for mom,
filled a carafe from the pot, got a cup and saucer and a spoon and napkin,
some cream and sugar, and went back to her room.  I set the tray by her
night stand, walked around to the other side of the bed, putting my cup
down on the other night stand.  She stirred as I settled in, and the aroma
of the coffee woke her up.  She opened her eyes, stretched her arms, then
looked over at me, a big smile spreading over her lovely face.  "Darling!"
she said.  I felt a wave of relief.

   "Good morning, mom," I said, and kissed her, her wonderful soft lips
opening to me, her arms around my neck.  I pulled her to me, feeling her
breasts against my chest.  I was hard again.

   "Jim," she said, breaking the kiss and pulling back.  She brushed her
hair away from her eyes and then put her hand with her cool fingertips on
my chest.  She looked straight at me.  "So ...  about last night," she said
slowly, searching my eyes.  "Any regrets?  About what we did?"

   "No." I said.  "No regrets, none."

   "Oh darling, what a relief!" I could see the tension leave her shoulders
and she kissed me again.  "I thought you might feel bad." She slipped her
hand down to cup my balls and stroke my cock.

   "I was worried about you, too" I said.  "I just feel liberated."

   "I feel the same way.  Wait, honey."

   She got up.  I watched her, her strong, straight back tapering to her
narrow waist then flaring out to her lovely bottom, as she skipped into the
bathroom, her flesh shaking a little.  I reached over and poured her a cup
of coffee and listened to her strong stream in the bowl.  Just like being
married, I thought.  The toilet flushed and then I heard water in the sink.
She emerged a couple of minutes later looking refreshed.  She walked over
to the bed, her full breasts swaying, her eyes full of amusement.  She was
something!  Those breasts!  That pussy!  What a woman!

   "Like what you see?" she asked.

   "Yes," I said, staring at her as if she were an apparition.

   She got into bed, sitting up, reached for her coffee and sipped.  "Thank
you," she said.  "This is wonderful!"

   The phone rang.  She put the cup down and picked up the receiver. 
"Hello," she said, and then there was silence.  I heard the quacky sound of
a female voice and then she said, "When?" Then, "OK." She put the receiver
down.  "One of the nurses is sick.  I have to fill in."

   "When?"
"1:00."

   "How long?"

   "I'm not sure.  At least until 9:00, I think."

   "Damn," I said.

   "Yes," she said ...  She picked up her cup and sipped some more coffee.

   "We have some time," I said.

   She held the cup in both hands, taking rapid sips, then set the cup
down, sliding back down on the bed, facing me.  "Yes," she said.

   "All I want to do is fuck you." I looked at her to see if she would
wince when I used the f word and we were just talking, but she didn't.

   "Mmmm.  My nice young man," she said.  She brushed my cheek with her
hand.  "Last night was the best night of my life.  You were wonderful."

   Her hand slipped back down to my cock and balls, stroking and cupping,
her fingernails on the underside of my shaft.  I shifted a little and
opened my legs for her, my cock hard and ready.

   "Such wonderful equipment you have, darling, I love to play with it."

   I reached out to her, running my finger across her lips, down to her
throat, then my hand to her breasts, alternating between them, marveling at
their fullness and dense softness, my finger back and forth across her
nipples.  I kissed her mouth then moved down to her neck and to her breast,
taking her nipple in my mouth.

   She was watching me, a smile on her face.  "Hold on Jimmy.  I want to do
you for a while."

   I lay back, waiting, one hand in her hair.  She kissed me and then
started working her mouth down to my neck, to my nipples, pulling each one
into her mouth, sucking and biting a little, one hand still stroking my
cock and balls.

   "Oh, mom," I said.

   "Like that, baby?" she asked, without looking up at me.  Down to my
belly, her tongue in my navel.  Then lower to my hard cock.  I strained up
to meet her.

   "Mama wants to suck her baby's cock," she said, looking up at me.  Then
she put her mouth on the head, making her lips a little tight, as if I was
pushing into her pussy.  I reached down to her and lifted up as my cock
parted her lips and entered her mouth.  Her tongue swirled around the head
and shaft and then took me all the way.  My hands were in her hair, rubbing
her ears.  I opened my legs wider and lifted myself to her, fucking her
mouth.  She stroked me up and down, sucking on my cock, swirling her tongue
on the bulb.  I was getting close.

   "Mom, please, I'll cum," I said.  "Get up here."

   "Mmm.  If you insist," she said.  She moved up and lay on top of me, her
breasts against mine, her pussy rubbing my cock.  She said, her voice low
and throaty, "You should know, Jimmy, my darling, that I love it in my
mouth.  I love sucking it."

   I rolled over until I was on top of her.  "Now I'm going to do you. 
You'll beg me to stop before I'm through," I said, and kissed her hard, my
hands to her breasts and sides, rubbing my cock back and forth on her
pussy. Then I started down, to her neck, kissing and licking, down to her
breasts.

   "Yes, Jimmy," she sighed, "suck my breasts, baby." I was licking and
sucking her hard nipple, nibbling a little at it, running my tongue over
it. It made her twitch and move her chest from side to side.  I wanted to
fuck her right then but I moved my head further down, her hands on my
shoulders, pushing me lower, kissing her belly, then down to her pussy,
licking and kissing as I went.  She shifted her weight and opened her legs
wider.

   I ran my fingers through her soft fur, then put my thumb in her pussy
and rubbed her small hole with my middle finger.

   "Oh, honey, yes," she said.  She opened her legs even wider for me,
shifting her weight, lifting up so she was up and offered to me.  My mouth
was over her hood and I licked it, pushing down with my tongue.

   "Oh, god, Jimmy, yes." I put my thumb inside her as deep as I could and
rubbed her small hole with my middle finger and then pushed it in.  My
tongue was inside her lips, up around her clit.  It was hard and I licked
all around it but not on it.

   "Please, Jimmy, please," she said.  I was rocking her with my thumb and
finger, back and forth, and kissing her pussy.  She was moving her hips
this way and that, twitching.

   "Please, please, Jimmy, please touch it.  I'm so close!"

   I moved to her clit and flicked it with my tongue, and then kissed it, a
full kiss, sucking her clit in my mouth, and she exploded, shuddering then
thrashing on the bed.

   "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Jimmy!!" She was holding my head, pushing me against
her pussy, lifting herself to me.  "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.  Yesssssssss. 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." I kept licking and sucking, tasting her cum as she
rocked her hips from side to side, her fingers in my hair.

   "Oh Jesus, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy!" she said, turning her head from side to
side, lost in pleasure.  I moved back up, kissing her body as I went, until
I was lying on top of her, my weight not quite fully on her, kissing her
mouth, moving my belly against hers, back and forth, then slowing down, and
we stayed like that, quiet, for a few moments.

   "You taste so nice, mom ...  Gabriella," I said, finally breaking the
silence.

   "Jimmy, honey, call me Gabriella, call me mom, call me mommy, call me
what you like."

   "I'm your motherfucker," I said.

   "Yes, you are." she said, "Do you like that word?  Do you like to call
yourself that?" she asked ...  She was looking at me, her eyebrows knitted
a little.

   "Not really," I said.  "I'm your lover." Funny how you learn sometimes.
You say something that isn't right and realize why and know you will never
do that again.  I would never think of myself as a motherfucker again.

   "Yes," she said.  She smiled at me.  "That's much better."

   She smelled like fresh bread.  I rimmed her ear with my tongue and she
shivered.  Then I kissed her soft, full mouth, looking at her, her eyes all
smoky with love and desire.

   She took my cock and rubbed it on her opening.  She moved her hips a
little and opened her legs wider and I pushed into her hot, wet pussy in
one stroke.  I began fucking her slowly, looking in her eyes, kissing her.
I reached down and hooked my arms under her legs, lifting them to my
shoulders, and began fucking her faster with full strokes, penetrating as
deep as I could.

   "Oh yes, that's it, baby," she said.  "Your cock feels so good.  Give it
to me hard, honey.  Fuck me hard, baby."

   Her arms were around my neck, her lips at my neck and ear, whispering to
me.  I felt her heat holding my cock, sliding all the way in, all the way
out.  I was concentrating on her pussy, how it held and caressed my cock,
every tiny fraction of an inch of it, it seemed to me, stroked by her hot
wet cunt.  My cock felt like it was a foot long as I fucked her in an easy,
steady rhythm, in and out, a nice rocking motion, our bodies moving
together so nicely, smoothly, like I had been riding her all my life.

   She moved her legs off my shoulders and down on the bed, then moved them
together, under me.  I moved my legs outside hers and pressed them
together, my cock still stroking her.

   "Yes, that's it, baby," she said.  "Pin me, honey.  I love it when I
can't move.  When I am all yours," she said.

   I looked down at her eyes, alive with love and deep pleasure, looking in
my eyes as if she could see inside me, at my mouth, her lips moving, her
hands on my sides and back, up and down, stroking me, to my bottom, pulling
me to her, her soft breasts against my chest, pulling my mouth to hers,
kissing me, her skin blotchy with blood, her body alive and moving under
me, pinned but wanting to move, and the tension making her orgasm begin to
build.

   "Fuck me faster, Jimmy, baby," she said.  "Faster, honey."

   I started stroking faster, harder, plunging all the way in on each
stroke, concentrating on my cock and how good her pussy felt, and her body
as it moved under me.  Her legs together made her even tighter and holding
her, pinning her made me fuck her harder.  I was getting close.  She opened
her legs again and wrapped them around my waist.

   "Oh, lover, this is so good," she said.

   "I'm close, mom," I said.

   "Cum in me, baby!  Hurry," she said.

   I started fucking even faster until my cumming took over and I felt it
rising past the time of stopping and I just fucked faster and faster until
I rammed hard into her, spurting my cum into her, jamming my cock hard into
her, feeling my cum jet into her, the intense pleasure of orgasm spreading
over my body.

   "Baby, I'm almost there," she said, as I plunged into her over and over,
her hands on my back rubbing up and down until she yelled, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!  Ohhhhhhhhhhh!

   I kept stroking her, but slowed a little, feeling her body begin to
relax but still moving under me, her face and skin flushed from her climax,
slowly coming down, breathing slower, her face full of pleasure, still
inward looking, caught up in her afterglow.

   "Thank you, Jimmy, baby," she said, finally.  And I told her she was
welcome.  Seeing the satisfaction on her face was almost as good as the
pleasure I was feeling.  I felt so comfortable with her.  The anxiety about
the first time now seemed a whole mental life removed.  I had become
someone else.  We stayed connected like that for a few minutes until my
exhausted cock slipped out and I moved off her, laying side by side,
touching, kissing, but quiet, just being together, close and comfortable.

   After a few minutes she asked, "What are you going to do today?"

   "Raffaela asked me to come over to help her put up some bookshelves. 
This afternoon."

   She absorbed that news and was quiet for a few moments.  "Jimmy," she
said, "I have a suggestion."

   I waited for her.  She was thinking and I loved watching her put her
thoughts together.  She had a hand on her forehead, a couple of fingers
touching it, and she was looking away.  Then she turned to me, smiling. 
"Darling, I know I can't keep you forever, although I'm going to try.  But,
listen, Raffaela likes you.  I don't mind.  She needs someone, a man. 
Someone like you.  Why don't you do her?" She inched a little closer to me
and slid her hand down my chest to my wet cock.  "She would love this, like
I do.  I know.  I know what she is thinking.  Being twins, we always know
what the other is thinking."

   I didn't know what to say.  "You're joking.  Do you think she knows
about us."

   "She might suspect.  She thinks like me.  Why not?  She needs someone, a
good man, and you are certainly that.  I would love it if you would do
her."

   "What about you?"

   "Don't worry about me.  I want you to.  And you will be in my bed at
night.  A woman needs it, Jimmy.  I know she does.  She needs a man.  She
needs sex, a man's hard cock in her.  She loves it, like I do."

   "She wouldn't want me to."

   "Yes, she would.  I've seen her look at you.  Just try.  Flirt with her
and see what happens.  You might be surprised." She paused.  "But then you
will be doing another woman just like me," she said, smiling shyly at me.

   "You mean it."

   "Yes, I do." She looked at me and laughed again.  "You are pretty easily
convinced.  Don't tell me you haven't thought about it." She gave my cock a
tug.  "I like the idea of it.  I'd like to watch, as a very interested
bystander."

   We lay that way, close to each other for a few more minutes, not
talking, stroking each other, kissing, and then she said, "I have to get
ready.  Damn!" She swung a leg over me, straddling me, leaning forward,
moving her breasts back and forth over my mouth, her nipples standing out
hard.  "Why don't you think about it, darling.  Do that, honey."

   "Alright," I said.

   She got up and went into the bathroom.

   "I'll make us something to eat, " I called after her.

   "Wonderful," she said, and I heard the water start for her shower.

   I went downstairs and started breakfast.  Bacon and eggs, The coffee in
the pot I had made earlier was still hot.  I was naked but put on an apron
to cook the bacon.

   Mom came down in a few minutes, wearing a plain dress and little
make-up, her hair pinned back in a bun.  She looked almost prim.

   "I hope you're not wearing that apron to eat." she said.  "I like
looking at you."

   I took it off and served us both the eggs, bacon, toast and some coffee.
We sat down, she right beside me.  We were both very hungry after all that
sex.  The food was wonderful.

   "You see her at 4:00?" she asked me, after we had cleared the table and
put the dishes in the washer.

   "Yes," I said.

   "I'd better be going or I'll be late.  I'll be thinking of you.  Really,
Jimmy, flirt with her and see what happens."

   "I will," I said.

   I walked with her over to the door.  "I'll see you this evening," she
said.  "Thank you again for a wonderful morning," she said, and kissed me.
She pressed against me and ran her hands up and down my back and bottom. 
"You can use me, you know, Jimmy.  I want you to.  You can do whatever you
want, whenever you want it."

   I started to get hard again and she noticed.  "I hope you will save that
for Raffaela," she said, smiling, kissing me again and giving my cock a
last squeeze.  "Bye honey.  See you later." And she was out the door and
gone.

   I watched her get into the car from the kitchen window, waving to her as
she backed out, then walked back over to the window by the table.  I
thought I would take a nap, get some sleep, before going over to
Raffaela's.

   I went upstairs and got in mom's bed, now our bed.  I could smell her in
the rumpled sheets.  I fell asleep almost immediately, thinking about mom
and her pussy and her tits and her wonderful body, her unrestrained passion
and how good we were together.  And now the possibility of Raffaela, too.
It was almost too much and yet, I knew, it was just beginning.

   Gabriella, my mom, on the bed, on her hands and knees.  I, behind her,
kneeling, my cock stiff as steel and balls deep in her hot pussy, fucking
her as hard as I can, holding her hips and slamming deep, loving the
sucking sound and the slap slap slap as my belly hits her ass, her butt
flesh quivering.

   Mom groaning, throwing her head up and down and from side to side, her
hands gripping the headboard, her breasts swinging back and forth, pushing
her hips back to meet my thrusts.

   I look down at my cock, feeling every inch caressed and enveloped by her
tight pussy, and see with amazement how it is growing, already the size of
a salami but ribbed like an ear of corn, about 10 inches long and swelling.

   Mom moaning yes yes yes, don't stop.  Then, God I can't take any more.

   It is still getting bigger and thicker, almost 4 inches across and 12
inches long.  Ommmmmmmmmmmm, she is saying, please Jimmy, it's too big!! 
But I keep ramming it home harder.

   Then, oddly, for the first time, I notice Raffaela, standing in the
corner by the bed, naked, one hand on her full breasts, kneading them, the
other on her pussy, stroking it, rubbing her thighs together, licking her
lips, staring at us, at me, her face flushed.

   My cock gets even bigger.Raffaela doesn't take her eyes off me.  Mom is
moving her ass back and forth, her tits swinging under her.  I am too close
to cumming to stop.

   Raffaela is now staring just at me, her red tongue wetting her full
lips, her brown eyes smoky and hot, one hand with her red-painted
fingernails still rubbing her pussy, her thick, brown pubic hair wet and
glistening, her other hand on her beautiful milky breasts with their tiny
blue veins, their whiteness framed by her tan.  She's tugging and pinching
her nipples.  Her thighs, tight together, rubbing back and forth.

   I am still pumping away at mom, almost there, almost cumming.  Mom is
moaning, swaying her butt back and forth and pushing back at me, saying yes
yes yes, sounding like she is close, too.  I hear a phone ring.  No one
reacts.  The phone rings again.  Still no reaction.  The phone nobody has
rings a third time.  A fourth ring.  Someone says answer the goddamn phone
and someone else says what phone...

   I opened my eyes after the fifth ring and reached over, quick, to pick
up before the answering machine kicked in.  I managed a distracted,
"Hello."

   "Hi, Jimmy," said Raffaela, brightly.  "It's almost 4:30.  Are you
coming over?"

   Wow!  I fell back on the bed.  "Yes," I said.  "I feel asleep." What a
dream!  I was still trying to clear my head.  "Sorry.  I'll be right over."

   "Is Gabriella there?"

   "She's been called in to cover for someone.  She'll have to work late."

   "Oh, too bad.  I was going to invite her for dinner.  Can you stay? 
After the shelves?"

   "Sounds great," I said.  "I'll be right over."

   "See you soon," she said, and we hung up.

   I turned over, the dream not quite faded, then got out of bed, my cock
still half hard, hurrying into the bathroom for a quick shower.  I was
shocked at how real it seemed.

   It must have been about 85 degrees and I started sweating as I hurried
over to Raffaela's, arriving just after 5:00.

   "Hi," I called out from the entry way, walking in the open door of her
ground-floor condo.  "Sorry, Raffaela, I was asleep." I shut the door.

   She was bending down to pick up some books she had been piling at the
base of the wall, below where the shelves were going to go.

   She had a two bedroom unit on the ground floor.  A small but adequate
living room in coordinated tans and browns, with the back wall where the
shelves would go a darker brown.  There was a propane fireplace,
impressionist prints on the walls and some flowers, a stereo and television
combo, a couch, a coffee table and a couple of chairs.  An open slider off
the eating area led to a patio that had a table, chairs, barbecue and two
lounges.  Beyond the patio was a small lawn with a few feet of garden
planted with more flowers that were in full bloom and a high gray cedar
fence behind that.  It was all quite cozy and comfortable.

   "Woof!" she said, straightening up and looking at me.  "That's OK,
Jimmy, I need a break.  It's so hot!" She was wearing a red and white
checked blouse with the top buttons opened and white shorts.  I could see a
little sweat staining the shirt under her arms and on the back of her neck.
"I'll get us a beer." She started into the kitchen, her hands tucking
strands of her brown hair that had fallen free back into the red bandana
she wore on her head, saying "I'm just about ready.  I measured everything.
I've been moving books out of the boxes I've been keeping them in from the
garage.  God, books are heavy!" I heard the refrigerator door close and the
sound of the bottles on the counter, then a fizz as she opened them and the
hollow taps of caps falling on the vinyl countertop, the clink as she set
the opener down.  She came back into the living room, her face lit up in a
smile, looking directly at me, a beer for herself in one hand and extending
a tanned arm holding another bottle for me in her red-tipped fingers,
condensation clinging to the surface of the bottles.  "Here," she said, and
plopped down on the sofa.  I sat down next to her.  She was pulling her
blouse away from her chest in and out, using it as fan.

   "God, it's hot.  This bra is so uncomfortable.  You took a nap?"

   "Take it off," I said.  "Yeah, I didn't get much sleep last night."

   "You wouldn't mind?"

   "Raffaela, get comfortable.  Of course I don't mind."

   "Okay," she said, "I'll be right back."

   She skipped into her bedroom and emerged a minute later in a different
blouse, white, not tucked in, the top two buttons undone, her full breasts
moving as she came back over to the couch and sat down.

   She turned toward me with her elbow on the sofa back, her head resting
on her hand.  She had to move her legs some and they opened.  I was looking
at the smooth skin of her inner thighs, then looked up to her breasts
filling her blouse, then up to see her looking at me with an affectionate
smile.  She took a drink of her beer.

   "It's fun to have you here.  I need the help."

   "At your service," I said.

   She took another long drink.  "It shouldn't take long."

   I found myself looking at her breasts again.  She noticed.  "I'm glad
you like them," she said, and we both laughed.

   She got up and showed me where she wanted the shelves.  We finished our
beer and got to work.  The shelves didn't take long.  We had them up in an
hour, thanks to the prep work she had already done.  Then we started
putting her books away and I was impressed by the scope of her reading,
everything from contemporary history and books on current culture to
general history, to poetry and serious and some not-so-serious literature
and the usual smattering of self-help books.  One caught my eye called
"Surviving Divorce."

   "Ever hear from Roger?" I asked.

   "Too often," she said.  "He says he is so terribly sorry and sometimes I
feel sorry for him.  But I'm not going back." She kicked one of the boxes
out of the way for emphasis.  "He says he knows he has control problems. 
Whatever that means." She looked at me.  "Whenever someone says that I know
he doesn't have any idea what he is talking about.  People have to live in
Roger's world, be characters in his movie, be who he wants them to be." She
was bending down, picking up a few books at a time and wiping the dust off
before putting them in their new digs.  "Lets him live in the world.  Lets
him think he's making sense of it."

   "Do you still like him?"

   "Some," she said.  "But I don't love him anymore and I know I never
will. We had a lot of memories together.  Almost ten years of them.  But
the last two were hell.  Pretty much like your mom there." She smiled at
me. "But, you know, Jimmy, some things about marriage are very nice."

   "Like?" I was putting books on the shelves, four or five at a time,
wiping them off first, like her.

   "The sex, for one.  But don't get married for it.  You can get that
anywhere," she said, as she slid her set of Raffaela Austen in place.

   "That's what you think."

   "Oh I know.  You're impatient.  But a handsome young man like you. 
You'll have lots of pretty girls.  The campus will be crawling with them
and a lot of them are going to like you." She stooped down to pick up D.H.
Lawrence and the blouse with its two buttons undone exposed her breasts
almost completely.  I was staring at them, transfixed, imagining how they
would feel in my hands, then quickly looked away as she straightened up and
slid him in next to Raffaela.

   "We won't let you marry a bimbo just because she looks good," she
continued.  "Your mom and me.  We will stop you.  We have to give her our
stamp of approval.  Otherwise, it's no go for you."

   "Yes, ma'am," I said.

   The job was finished.  We took the boxes the books had been in back out
to the garage and tore them flat, then stacked the cardboard for recycling.

   "Hungry?  Let's eat.  We can grill hamburgers."

   "Sounds great," I said.  I was very, very hungry.

   I finished with the boxes while Raffaela went to the patio to start the
charcoal.  When I came inside she was in the kitchen opening a bottle of
wine.  She poured glasses for us both and we went out to the patio, sitting
down on her lounges, waiting for the charcoal to get hot enough.

   We chatted back and forth for a few minutes, sipping our wine, then put
the meat on the grill.  We sat back down and talked and drank and listened
to the meat sizzling and spitting.  She had a device that turned the
patties automatically.  It was still warm but beginning to cool.  A light
breeze had started up and the late afternoon light had softened and was
beginning to fade.

   Raffaela went into the kitchen and came back with a green salad.  We
built our hamburgers and ate them with the salad and the wine, sitting at
the patio table.  It all tasted great and I was surprised how at home I
felt, how comfortable it was being with her.  Raffaela tried to refill her
glass but the bottle was empty.  She got up and went into the kitchen,
returning with a full bottle and refilled our glasses.  I had moved from
the table back to the lounge chair and she sat down next to me on the other
one.  We were quiet for a while, talking a bit now and then.  She had
stretched her legs out.  I was admiring her smooth silky skin.  I wanted to
touch it, reach out and stroke her thigh.  I pulled my chaise closer to
hers.  She was drinking a lot.  I wondered why, and found myself hoping
that she was trying to get a little drunk.  I was feeling very relaxed
myself and very very conscious of Raffaela.

   "I love evenings like this, Jimmy, but sometimes it gets a little lonely
living here.  Not that I want to give that up, but, sometimes, you know..."

   "What about guys?  I would think they would be after you."

   "Yes, some are but I haven't met anyone special, or anyone I really want
to go out with.  I feel guilty letting some guy wine and dine me when I
know he's after sex and I know I'm not going to give it to him." She took
another sip of her wine.

   "I think you look terrific, Raffaela.  You'll find someone you like,"
and I reached out and stroked that silken thigh.  The touch was electric,
her skin so smooth and warm.  I was startled by the spark between us.

   She turned on the lounge toward me and put her hand over my hand on her
thigh.  "I hope you're right, Jimmy.  And soon." One creamy breast was
trying to get out of the top of the blouse where she had opened the
buttons.

   "Do you like them?"

   "What..."

   "My breasts.  You keep looking at them.  Do you like them?"

   "Yes."

   "Would you like to see them?"

   "Raffaela ...  I don't know ...  You're my aunt..."

   "Would you like to see them?"

   "Yes.  I guess I would."

   "Come inside" she said.  She got up and walked into the kitchen.  I
followed.

   She turned to me at the wall at the back of the kitchen.  "Will you do
as I tell you?" She was smiling at me again, her eyes taking me in, open
and warm.

   "Yes," I said.

   "Take my blouse off." she said.  "Unbutton it and take it off, Jimmy. 
But don't touch them."

   She was looking directly at me.  She backed against the wall.  I took a
step toward her.

   "Unbutton it," she said.

   I reached out and undid the remaining buttons of her blouse.  She turned
around, her back to me.

   "Take it off," she said.

   I slipped it off and tossed it behind me.  She raised her arms over her
head and turned to me, her full, slightly pendulous breasts moving as she
turned, her brown eyes bright with excitement, her skin flushed, her
nipples hard.  "Do you like them?"

   "Jesus, Raffaela, they're beautiful."

   "Can you pour me some more wine?"

   I filled her glass and mine.  She dropped her arms and clasped her hands
behind her back.  She was right against the wall.  She moved her chest back
and forth, making her breasts move.

   "Can you give me a sip?"

   I put the glass to her lips and tipped it some.  She drank but some of
the wine ran down her mouth, to her chin, and then dribbled onto her
breasts.  She was still looking straight into my eyes, smiling, her full
lips red from the wine.

   "Take my shorts off, Jimmy."

   "Are you serious?"

   "Yes."

   I put her glass down and reached out to unbutton them.  She shook off
her sandals, then got the glass and drank while I pushed them down to her
ankles, lifting one leg at a time, helping me get them off.  She was
standing there, naked except for her white cotton panties.  The panties
puffed out some from her full patch and a little blotch of moisture showed
by her opening.

   "May I see you?"

   "I don't know, Raffaela."

   "Jimmy, please.  You said you would do what I told you to do.  Take
everything off.  I want to see you."

   I lost the sweatshirt in one motion, then my shoes and socks.  The jeans
were next.  The kitchen floor was littered with our clothes.

   "Now your underwear, Jimmy."

   I pushed my underwear down and stepped free.  My hard cock sprang up,
pointing at her, straining toward her.

   Her eyes dropped.  "Mmmm.  Very nice, Jimmy."

   She reached for her glass and took a sip.  "Take my panties off, Jimmy,
but don't touch."

   I pushed her panties down very slowly from the sides, hearing the soft
hiss of the fabric on her skin, feeling her smooth thighs, watching her
pussy appear with its full bush of soft curly hair, smelling her musk.  She
lifted one foot and when it was free flipped the panties off her other
foot. She set the glass down and put her arms over her head again taking
the bandana off on the way and tossing it on the counter.  She shook her
brown hair then turned all the way around once more, giving me a full view
of her marvelous body.

   "Do you like?"

   "Jesus, Raffaela."

   "Would you like to fuck me?"

   "Jesus, Raffaela."

   "Is that a 'Yes'?"

   "Yes, it's a yes."

   "That's much better.  I thought you would."

   She stepped toward me and put her arms around me, pressing her body
against mine and kissed me, her lips soft and full, parted, her warm breath
on my mouth.

   "You may touch me now, Jimmy.  As a matter of fact I want you to fuck
me. Right here, right now."

   My hands went to her breasts, feeling their fullness, her hard, jutting
nipples, then down to her bottom and I picked her up and sat her on the
counter, right at the edge, then hooked my arms under her knees.  Her head
was down, looking at my cock, its head nestled in her bush.

   She looked at me, her eyes cloudy with desire.  "Yes, Jimmy, right here.
Hurry."

   She reached down and took the head of my cock, rubbing it up and down at
her opening.

   "Push, Jimmy.  I need you inside me."

   I pushed all the way in in one stroke, her warm wetness engulfing me.

   She started.  "Oh!" she said.  "Oh, yes," and her arms went around my
neck and she kissed me.

   I began fucking her with long steady strokes, then picked her off the
counter, her legs around my waist, and started unsteadily out the kitchen
toward the living room, stopping on the way, pushing her against the hall
wall, fucking up into her harder, faster, then out to the living room.  I
managed to get her down on the rug without leaving her till she was on her
back with her legs up and open, her arms around my neck then rubbing my
back and bottom, saying yes yes yes as I plunged my cock into her hot wet
heaven over and over.

   "Oh lover, I'm going to cum," she whispered in my ear.  "Do it faster,
honey, harder," her breath hot and warm on my neck.  I could feel my own
cum rising.  It felt so good and I didn't want to cum but I couldn't stop
it and we were in an accelerating rhythm and she began to cum, saying oh oh
oh please yes oh oh yes yes.  Then thrashing and pounding my back with her
fists as she climaxed, saying Oh Jimmy yessssssssssssss.  And I felt my own
cum rising, thrusting into her harder with each stroke and then feeling it
jetting into her in hot heavy spurts, three four five times.  I kept
thrusting, slowing down gradually until we settled into a long slow gentle
fucking, making the glow last as long as possible.  Finally I rolled over
on my back with her on top of me and my cock still in her, and we lay that
way for several minutes on the rug, my hands up and down on her back and
bottom and her head and mouth against my neck, feeling her warm breath and
her breathing gradually becoming more regular until we both arrived back in
the world.

   "Jesus, Jimmy'" she said.

   "Yes, Raffaela, that's the word" I said.  "How do you feel?"

   "Wonderful," she said.  "I'm so happy this happened."

   "Me too.  You are sensational."

   "I'm so happy I could please you.  You were amazing," she said.  "You
can make me cum and I needed to so badly." We lay there just being aware of
each other's body.  After a minute or so she lifted her head, looking at
me. "I'm thirsty, do you want some more wine?"

   I said yes and she got up and went into the kitchen, returning with our
glasses.  I was still lying on the rug, too spent to move but still
comfortable.  It was probably 75 degrees in the house even now.  She lay
back down on the rug, her lush body facing me, our glasses to one side. 
She reached out to touch me, running her hand up and down my chest, teasing
my nipples with her finger nails, then down to my cock and balls.  I did
the same, tracing some pattern on her eyes and lips, her neck and breasts
and belly, her pussy and thighs.

   "I feel sorry for Gabriella," she said.

   "Why?"

   "She needs a man."

   I took a sip of my wine.

   "Jimmy, when you were doing me did you think of her?"

   I looked at her.  Did she suspect?  "No.  But I can see why you might
think I would.  Being twins."

   She smiled at me.  "Jimmy, have you ever thought about it with her?"

   "You mean fucking her?"

   "Yes.

   "She's my mother."

   "Oh, Jimmy, you are both adults.  She might want to.  I see how she
looks at you and it isn't just a mother's look.  Just imagine what it might
be like.  I mean, you really cut loose with me and I loved it.  I bet she
would, too.  It would be good for both of you." She took a sip of her wine
and then ran her hand down to my cock, holding it in her hand, running her
fingers over it lightly.  I could feel it start to swell.

   "Hmm," she said.  "Maybe the idea appeals to you." She smiled.  "Give it
some thought, Jim, really.  And don't worry about all that Freudian stuff.
Think of her as a lonely woman you love.  You have so much of your own love
in you and you could give her some.  If she is like me, and she is, I know
she will love it.  Fucking your mother.  Fucking Gabriella.  I love that
idea."

   She started stroking my cock, then bent down and took me in her mouth,
swirling her tongue around the head, stroking me up and down with her hand
and sucking me until I was hard.  Then she kissed her way up my belly, to
my chest, to my mouth.

   "Love the feel of your cock, Jimmy," she said.  She swung her leg over
me, straddling me, her pussy right over my cock, then took the head with
her thumb and forefinger, rubbing the head at her opening and then lowered
herself down slowly, the expression on her face as if she was saying
"Ahhhhh" as my cock disappeared inside her.

   "Oh, Jimmy, it feels so good," she said, and began rising up and down
and back and forth, rubbing her pussy against me, leaning over me so her
heavy breasts with their erect nipples were swaying right in front of my
eyes, then lowering herself further till they touched my face.  I cupped
them with my hands, sucking on her nipples, nibbling a little.  I kissed
her, our tongues playing lightly, then pulled her to me and rolled over
until I was on top and we began a nice slow fucking, sliding all the way in
and all the way out in a steady motion, just like with mom.

   "Oh, Jimmy," she said.  "So nice." Her hands were on my sides and back,
rubbing up and down, her eyes on me, full of desire, and knowledge.  I
hadn't rejected the idea.  And how could I be fucking her and NOT think of
my mother.  She knew.  Raffaela knew.  I began thrusting harder.  And then
I pulled out.  "Turn over," I said.

   "Jimmy, you naughty boy," she said, smiling, and turned over.

   "Lift up," I said, and she raised her bottom up, getting up on her knees
to do it.  I was kneeling behind her.  I grabbed her hips and pulled her
toward my cock, then reached down and rubbed the head on her pussy lips and
pushed in.  I began pumping in and out, feeling the coolness of her bottom
against my belly, holding her hips, fucking her harder and harder.  She was
groaning, moving her hips to meet my thrusts, swaying her bottom back and
forth.

   "Harder, Jimmy," she said.

   I reached around to cup her breasts, squeezing and pulling at her
nipples.

   "Yes, that's it, Jimmy.  Harder.  Hurt me a little." She was pushing
back at me, tossing her head and groaning, just like mom in my dream.  I
slapped her cheeks and she pushed back harder.  I was holding her hips
again, her breasts hanging down, moving from side to side, my cock hard as
a rock and we fucked like that for several minutes but I wanted to see her
face so I pulled out and turned her over on her back again and plunged back
in in one hard stroke.  She gasped and wrapped her legs around my waist and
her arms around my neck, her eyes at the same time looking at me but in a
dreamy world of her own pleasure and we both started the climb toward
orgasm.

   "Oh, lover, this is so good," she said.

   "Mom," I said, my eyes half closed, my lips at her neck.

   "Yes, I'm just like your mom," she said.  "Fuck your mother, Jimmy.  I
need it.  Fuck me, baby.  Fuck me hard..."

   And that's what we were doing, hard and hot, my cock gripped by every
inch of her tight pussy, she responding to me completely, twisting under
me, moaning, both of us nearing our climax, her hands on my back, pulling
me tighter to her, feeling her breasts against my chest, kissing her,
squeezing her breasts and her nipples.

   "I'm cumming, Jimmy.  Harder."

   I felt the wave of orgasm building in me and knew I couldn't stop it and
just rode it up until I felt the cum rising and I was pumping it into her
in hot spurts and she came too, yelling yes yes yes just like she did
before.

   Jesus!  What a woman!  We came back down the same way as before,
gradually, until we lay side by side, surprised by our passion and the
pleasure we had just given each other.

   I rolled off her on my back and then pulled her on top of me and we lay
like that for several minutes, not talking, just being together.

   "I want to do this all the time," I said.

   "Yes," she said.  "That's what I want too.  That was wonderful." She
paused, then said, "I meant it about Gabriella, Will you think about it?"

   "OK, yes, I will think about it."

   We talked some more.  Her body felt so good against mine, so
comfortable. I wanted to stay that way but it was getting late.  We lay
quietly together for a few minutes, then got up and put the glasses in the
sink and did what other dinner dishes there were and straightened up the
place a little, talking and pausing for kisses and hugs along the way. 
Finally it was time to put my clothes on.  I was completely comfortable
being naked around her and it felt a little funny when I pulled my
underwear up and she watched as my cock disappeared into my shorts.  I felt
a pang when she put her panties back on, drawing them up her legs, moving
her knees back and forth a little until her pretty pussy disappeared behind
the white cotton.  She smiled at me.

   "You can have it anytime you want, Jim."

   Her blouse was next, hiding those incredible breasts and I put on my
jeans and sweatshirt and my socks and shoes.  It was time to go home.

   "I will see you soon," I said.

   "Yes," she said.  "Thank you for a wonderful evening."

   "Raffaela," I said, "I love you.  I want you to know."

   "Yes, I know, Jimmy.  I love you too."

   I kissed her again, a soft sweet lovers' kiss, her body relaxing into
mine.

   "Goodnight, Jim.  Say hello to Gabriella for me."

   "I will," I said.  "Goodnight, Raffaela."

   I walked out into the warm night air, my mind full of images of
Raffaela, of her body and her passion, her scent on my clothes.  When I got
home Gabriella's car was there but the lights were off.  I went up to the
bedroom.  She was asleep.  I got undressed and slid in beside her.  She was
naked, on her side, her back to me.  I pulled myself against her, feeling
her bottom against my cock and my hand on her thigh.  She stirred.

   "You're home," she said, turning toward me.  "Hmm.  I can smell her on
you." She looked up at me, her hand stroking my side.  "Did you take my
advice?" She was smiling at me.

   "Yes.  Can I tell you about it tomorrow?"

   "OK.  Did it go OK?"

   "Yes," I said.

   She smiled again and put her arm around me, pressing her breasts to my
chest.  "I'll bet it did." She slipped her hand down to my cock and balls,
cupping them, stroking me.  "Makes me want you right now but I bet Sir
Galahad here is too tired," she said.  "I like her perfume."

   "Same as yours."

   "It's almost the same but not quite." She looked at me.  "Ok.  Get some
rest.  Goodnight honey.  Tell me in the morning.  Kiss me."

   I kissed her, pressing myself against her, and then she turned over with
her back to me but pushing against me.  I was starting to get hard and
snuggled closer to her, my cock resting just outside her pussy.  I put my
arm around her waist pulling her against me.

   "Mmmm, Honey, you feel so good" she said.

   "I love you, mom."

   "I love you too, my darling," she said back to me.

   We drifted off that way, the last thing I remember being the refrain
from an oldies song I had heard the other day on the radio and couldn't get
out of my mind:

   "Oooowee,

   Oh baby what you do to me.

   Aw shucks,

   Wouldn't stop for a million bucks."

   And I can't wait to get my dream of having threesome with Gabriella and
Raffaela come true.