____________________________
                    |                            |
                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
              __(  (|____________________________|)  )__
             ((( \  \ >  /_)              ( \  < /  / )))
             (\\\ \  \_/  /                \  \_/  / ///)
              \          /                  \          /
               \      _/                     \_       /
                /    /                         \     \
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself."  I think it’s  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o


Family Stud - 3 (family)
Ed Dippus aka Fast Oeddie

*

- Chapter 3 -


The morning after the night before....
	The night before, Karen blew me, I ate her out and Mom got
home right before we fucked.
	The night before, I slept while Mom gave Karen a lesson in
dildo love and Sappho sucking.
	The morning after, I woke up with my usual hard-on.  I
approached it in the usual way, kicking off the covers and starting
to jack off.  Shortly thereafter, Karen slipped into the room and
out of her robe.  I had been hoping that would happen.
	"Here, let me do that," she whispered. 
	"Why don't you blow me?" I urged.
	"Cause I've got something to tell you that will blow your
mind."
	She then proceeded to relate all the kinky doings between her
and Mom the night before.  I listened incredulously at first, then
I got hotter and hotter as the story progressed.  I climaxed long
before the story did, so Sis paused long enough to swallow my load
before finishing the story.  After that, she snuggled up to me in
bed.
	"What now?" I asked.
	"Are you nuts?" Karen snorted, "this is great.  If we can get
Mom and you together, then the 3 of us, shit!, the sky's the
limit."
	SPROIIINNNGG!!!  My hardon re-asserted itself immediately. 
God, my sister was perverted, and I loved it.  I'd love to get into
Mom's panties, but she seemed to have a decided aversion to male-
female intercourse for young folk like Karen and me.  "Okay, Sis,
how do you propose I get into Mom?  What do I do, walk up and
invite her to fuck?"
	"No, stupid.  Go with what works.  We got into it last night
as a result of the birds and bees shit.  Just talking about sex
gets Mom as randy as me.  If you can get her to give you somewhat
of the same lecture, I GUARANTEE you'll end up in bed with her."
	This sounded logical to me and certainly worth a try.  Hell,
I'd try anything at this point.  As Karen leisurely stroked my rod,
and as I absent-mindedly diddled her clit, we laid our plans for
laying Mom.   I was ready to roll over on Karen at that point, by
the way, but she put me off 'til later.  "'Til you can line me and
Mom both up and fuck us silly together," she said.  God, she was
sick, and I really loved it.
	We made each other come once more (Karen sucked me off, I
diddled her), then she bounded off to a shower.  I rolled back over
and went to sleep again.

When I woke up, it was 10 o'clock.  I heard the shower going and
knew it was Mom.  According to our plan, Karen was long gone, with
the promise to be away until noon.  I hopped out of bed, my latest
boner swaying in front of me, and walked to the bathroom door.
	The door was partway open and clouds of steam were emanating
therefrom.  I knocked on the door, pushing it open a bit more, and
called in.  "Mom, can I come in and use the toilet?"
	"Of course, dear," came the expected reply.  Still naked, I
walked in, shut the door and lifted the seat.  You guys know how
difficult it is to pee with a hard-on.  I had to lean on one hand
on the tank and force my johnson to point down at the bowl.  At
first, little trickles just slipped out, but soon my schlong
relaxed, and with a sigh of relief I cut loose.
	Mom was being very quiet, and I imagined she was listening. 
I glanced up into the mirror to my right (the tub was behind me),
and caught a glimpse of moving shower curtains.  I wondered if she
was watching.  All the better if she was.
	After I flushed the john, I stood there and started jacking
my rod back to hardness.  After a couple minutes of this, the
shower stopped and Mom called out "Are you still in here?"
	"Yeah."
	"What are you doing?"
	"Nothing."
	"That doesn't look like 'nothing' to me."
	"You're not supposed to be looking, Mom."
	"I wasn't, not on purpose, I just noticed, that's all."
	At this point, she pulled back the shower curtain, revealing
herself wrapped in a towel, and met my gaze reflected in the
mirror.  Feigning modesty, I grabbed a hand towel, sat down on the
toilet lid and covered my lap.  I stared at her frankly, letting
my gaze travel from the red hair piled on top of her head, to her
smooth bare shoulders, to the few little freckles sprinkling the
slight bit of cleavage visible above the towel, to the curves
bulging under that towel, to the freshly shaved, gorgeous legs, and
I couldn't see her feet in the tub. (No loss, I think feet are
ugly.)

	"Well?" I said.
	"Well what?"
	"Well, are you going to leave so I can finish?"
	"You mean, you're still going to masturbate after I've caught
you?" she asked.
	"Of course, I've got to do this several times a day or I go
crazy, I get so horny."
	"Several times a day?  That seems excessive.  Why so much?"
	I pretended to get a little irritated at the questions,
although the longer we talked, the better my chances.  "There are
so many stimuli all around me.  The girls at school wear tight
clothes and show lots of skin, but few of them put out, and the
ones that do are ugly.  Then Karen's parading around here half
naked all the time.  A guy just gets turned on.  Oh, and seeing you
in that towel isn't helping matters."
	"Me?!  Well... I...  I'm sorry, I guess.  But I'm worried
about you, Steve.  It can't be healthy to do that all the time."
	""I've never suffered any ill effects, Mom.  No fur on my
palms, no incipient blindness.  About the only bad thing is I
sometimes rub myself raw.  Occupational hazard, I guess."
	At this point, Mom stepped out of the shower and sat on the
edge of the tub, knees primly together.  "Perhaps you're not doing
it right," she said.
	(Hmmm, THAT sounded interesting.)
	"What's so difficult about it, Mom?  You just grab and go."
	"That's not true at all.  There are many techniques to
practice, even in masturbation."
	(Oh, yeah.  Now we're getting somewhere.)
	"Get out," I said in mock naivete, "how many flavors of
vanilla are there?  I can't believe there's all that much variety."
	"Of course, there is.  I can see your sex education is sadly
lacking.  Perhaps I've been remiss in my duties."
	That definitely sounded right on target.  Karen was really
right about this approach. I've got to hand it to her - pun
intended.  With very little prompting I was going to get lucky.
	"What are you going to do, teach me to jack off?"
	"I think that might be in order.  We can't have you rubbing
yourself raw, can we?  Why don't you show me your technique."
	"Are you kidding?" I pretended to be incredulous.  Can't
appear too eager to whack off for Mom.
	"No I'm not."  she said, then snatched off my lap towel.
"Let's get down to business here."
	"Well, okay, I guess, but I feel weird."
	"No need to be embarrassed, dear.  I'm your mother."
	"That's my point," I said glumly, then shrugged my shoulders
and attacked my soldier, almost literally.  I never actually rubbed
myself raw, but I acted as if I were trying to.
	"Oh, my," Mom gasped. "That's all wrong.  Don't grasp so hard,
and don't go so fast.  Here, stop.  Now, loosen your grasp.  More,
okay.  Go ahead.  No slow down.  Slower.  More smoothly.  That's
it. No.  You're speeding up again."
	"Oh, for crying out loud." I said, dropping my dick and
sitting back.  "Suppose you show me how."
	"I probably should.  I'm surprised you still masturbate when
you do it like that," she said leaning forward, "it hardly seems
pleasurable at all."  she paused a bit, eying my schlong
critically. 
	"Come on," I thought, "go for it, go for it."
	"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt anything.  In fact, it's to
keep you from hurting yourself.
	YES!!!  It was all I could do to keep from leaping up and
high-fiving myself.  Without further ado, Mom grasped me in her
cool hand and began to stroke lightly.
	"Fast and hard is okay once in a while," she said as if
addressing a class, "or if you're in a hurry.  But when someone
does this as often as you, you should take it slow, easy and build
up to it.  I guarantee you'll enjoy it a lot more."
	During this lecture, Mom continued to stroke lightly, it
really did feel better, too.  Her technique was definitely
different from mine, but I wondered if it was the stroke or the
stroker which was producing these intense feelings.  Probably both.
	"Sometimes, you don't need to pump, even, you can do this,"
Here she stopped stroking and squeezed me lightly, quickly and
rhythmically.  "Or this," and she tickled the underside with her
nails.  "Or this," and she grabbed my head like the top of a stick
shift, rubbing me against her palm.  Then, to my horror, she
stopped, saying "Now you try."  I almost groaned in disappointment,
but manfully grabbed my rod and followed her instructions.  This
wasn't too bad, jacking off with your Mom sure beat doing it alone.
	"Oh, yes, you're right," I said, "this is much better.  This
is really nice.  Boy, too bad you women can't do this, huh?"
	"What planet are you from?" Mom snorted, "Of course we can."
	"Really?" more bogus wide-eyed innocence "How?"
	"Boy, you've really got a lot to learn.  Women have very
sensitive parts between their legs, which we can stimulate as
easily as you men.  In fact, it's a lot less work."
	Trying to keep that studious look and wondering tone, I looked
down at the floor shyly and asked "Mom, could you show me?"
	"What? Are you kidding.  I don't think so."
	"Fair's fair, Mom.  I've been pretty embarrassed by this
little tutoring session.  Now when it's your turn the lesson's
over."
	"Well, I guess it's okay.  To be honest, all this sex talk has
riled me up a little."
	More than a little, I'd guess.  At this point, Mom sat forward
a little on the tub's edge and parted her knees, spreading her legs
wide and with them the bottom of the towel, until her pussy was
completely exposed to my hungry gaze.  Her pubes were the same
honey red as her hair.  "This is my vagina," she announced, then
pointed out major points of interest, "these lips are called labia. 
There are actually two sets of labia, outer and inner, called
majora and minora."  She spread those labia with her fingers and
the pink nub of her clit appeared.  I noticed that she was
extremely wet as the harsh bathroom lights glistened off her
crotch.  "This little button is called the clitoris, or clit for
short.  It is analogous to your penis, except for function.  It
also becomes engorged with blood and is VERY sensitive.  Female
masturbation is concerned with stimulating the whole area in
general and the clit in particular.  Sometimes insertion of a
finger or an artificial penile object can add to the pleasure."
	Then she began to demonstrate.  She rubbed a finger lightly
back and forth between her lips a while, slipping between them a
little.  Next Mom flattened her hand out and rubbed her whole
crotch with a circular motion.  Each time the tips of her fingers
passed over her clit, she caught her breath in a pleasured gasp.
The circle got smaller and smaller as she concentrated in that
little bud.  Her left hand dropped down to part her lips and diddle
therein while her right homed in on her clit.  Next, she stopped
her circular motion, held her labes apart with her left hand and
vibrated her right middle finger on her clit, pausing every now and
then to slide that finger down and in for more lubrication.
	Needless to say, this was all having a pleasurable effect on
my jacking off.  "Oh, Mom,"  I gasped, "this is really turning me
on.  I love watching you."
	"Me too, honey.  I'm really hot."
	"Show me your tits, Mom.  I really want to see them."
	Frantically frigging herself with one hand, she reached up
with the other and pulled away the towel.  Oh, God! she has great
tits.  That spray of freckles continued down between them,
spreading out between a pair of wide-set, heavy globular mammaries. 
Each was capped by a reddish aureole and extremely erect nipples. 
In fact, her whole aureole was engorged and bulged off her already
bulging titties.  She cupped her breast with her free hand and
rubbed those aureolae with thumb and forefinger.  Then she heaved
it up and dropped her mouth to her own nipple and licked greedily.
	This was getting to be too much for me.  "Look but don't
touch," has never been an integral part of my lexicon, anyway. 
"Can I touch you, Mom?" I asked, "Can I make you come."
	She was way too far gone to say no "Oh, yes, Steve.  Yes,
baby."
	In a flash I was on my knees before her, slipping a finger
into her, hitting her clit with my thumb, using my other hand on
those gorgeous knockers.  I almost knocked her back into the tub
in my enthusiasm.  She grabbed my shoulders for balance, then
groaned heavily in pleasure, "Oooohhhh, STEVE.  That's so nice, so
good. Oooohhhh, YES."
	Mom humped herself against my hand, then lifted one of her
jugs up to her mouth again.  That looked like a good idea, so I
dropped my lips to the other nipple.  Mom groaned around a mouthful
of her own titflesh.  Soon my ministrations began to have their
intended effect.  As her hip motions became more frantic, she
leaned further back and held on to my neck tighter and tighter with
her free hand.  Finally she just used that hand to prop herself on
the far edge of the tub and lean back.  As she assumed that more
horizontal position my mouth dropped down from her tit.  Following
that natural progression, I trailed my tongue down her torso,
through her pubic hair and onto her clit.  As I lashed that little
man in the boat, she let go of her tit and curled her fingers in
my hair, urging my face into her crotch.  She encouraged me with
her now unoccupied mouth, "Come on, Steve.  Oh, yes.  Oh, come on
honey.  That's good.  Lick me.  Oh, lick Mommy.  Oh, lick my
clitty.  Yes, that's it, Son.  Oh do it.  Do me.  Do your Mom!"
	And I did,  I went to town on that sexy cunt and soon she was
shouting as she came, " OH, YES.  I'M CUMMING.  OH, STEVE!  OH,
SON! HERE I CUM.  MOMMY'S CUMMING!  MOMMY'S CREAMING HER LITTLE
SON'S FACE.  OH!  OH!  AAAIIIEEEEE!"
	I looked up at her.  Her eyes were closed as she caught her
breath.  When they opened and looked down at me, I grinned, then
lapped her clit once.  She shuddered.  Then I stood up and pulled
her back to a sitting position.  I kissed the top of her head, then
lifted her chin and kissed her deeply on the lips.  She responded
fully to my tongue in her mouth, wrapping it with hers, and kissing
me hungrily.  She pulled back a bit and licked her juices from my
cheeks and chin.  "Mmmm, I can taste myself," she murmured, "I
taste great."

	"You're telling me," I said.
	"Oh, honey, you haven't cum yet."
	"That's okay," I said equably.
	"No it's not," she insisted (as I knew she would) "Here."
	She reached for may cock and pulled it to her lips as I stood
up.  Did I say "pulled"?  Hell, she inhaled me just like Karen had
the day before.  It was instantaneous deep-throat.  Then she pulled
back and plunged down, pulled back and plunged down, back and
forth, back and forth.  I knew it wouldn't be long before I came,
what with all that had occurred to this point, but I didn't care
and I didn't think Mom would mind, either.
	Sure enough, after about 10 strokes I felt the oncoming rumble
start.  I groaned "Oh, Mom, I'm gonna cum."  She pulled back and
forth a couple more times, then pulled her mouth off me and grabbed
me with her hand.  "This began as a masturbation lesson," she said,
"and that's how it's going to end."	
	She started stroking me, quickly and expertly, as she urged
me to come.  "Come on, Steve.  Come on, Son.  Cum for me.  Come for
Mommy."
	"Oh, MOM," I chorused, "Yes.  I'm gonna cum.  Oh, yes.  Oh,
Mom.  I'm gonna cum."
	"Yes, son, come for Mommy.  Yes, Oh yes.  Come on, son."
	"Oh, MOM!  Oh YEAH!  I'm.. I'm gonna... I'm gonna... gonna...
CUM! (spurt)  I'm CUMMING"
	"YESS!,, CUM for Mommy,  come on, Steve, CUM for Mommy, fuck
it, CUM ON MOMMY.  Yes!  Cum on Mommy!  Cum on Mommy's titties, cum
on Mommy's face!  OH Fuck it. Cum.  CUM!   CUM!!!!"
	And being a dutiful son, I did as I was told, cumming like
crazy.  I spermed her tits, her throat, her chin and face.  Drops
of cum spattered into her hair and hung there like dew on a
spiderweb.  And still I came.  With a little whimper, Mom plunged
her face back onto my cock, all the way in.  Her throat muscles
milked me like a hand and half my load ended up directly down her
throat.  Finally, I stopped cumming.  Mom continued to lick my rod
clean, then let me go and lifted her tits up so she could lick the
cum from them.  God! this oversexed bitch was horny!  And she was
my Mom.  I had to fuck her.  Although my rod had flagged a little,
it was still ready for action.  When her tits were clean she
dropped them and hugged me around my waist, nestling her cheek
against my stomach.
	"Mom, I want to fuck you," I whispered as I stroked that
gorgeous red hair.
	"We can't right now, honey," she whispered back, "your sister
will be back soon."
	I almost fucked up and told her about Karen and me.  But I
caught myself.  According to the plan, I'm not supposed to know
about Mom and her, nor she about Mom and me.  And Mom definitely
wasn't supposed to know about us.  But that's okay,  the best laid
plans of mice and men weren't half as well-laid as the three of us
were going to be.  I could afford to wait for PHASE II.

THE END