1 comments/ 272699 views/ 12 favorites Mother Fucks By: Willailla ~Naked beneath her summer dress, she stood before the light~ Connie had just finished putting away the last of the groceries and was turning to go into the living room to relax when she felt hands on her waist turning her. It was Jarred, her son's best friend. He pulled her close. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest flex against her breasts beneath the white T-shirt. At first she thought he was playing around with her. Then he kissed her hard on the mouth. For an instant, there was the moist warmth of his tongue in her, then he was gone, out the patio door, yelling back over his shoulder to Deek, her son, down the hall in his bedroom, that he'd see him tomorrow. She wandered into the living room and sat down on the sofa, placing her hands together in her lap and turning her head, unconsciously, from side to side.. Had it happened, she wondered? It seemed unreal. She must have imagined it. Jesus. "Hey, babe, get me another beer, okay?" Her husband Burt, ensconced in his recliner, glanced briefly at her over the sports section, then resumed reading. As she opened the refrigerator door, she heard the sound of Jarred's chopper throttle up and roar off. * "He kissed you?" Ruth asked incredulously. She set a fresh cup of coffee on the coffee table in front of Connie. "You're kidding, right? Jarred?" Ruth had been Connie's best friend for years. A divorcee with two failed marriages under her belt and presently dating a variety of men trying to find her Mr. Right again. Connie nodded. "It was...out of the blue. I still have a hard time believing it actually happened," she said, then added in a perplexed tone, "but I know it did." She added some cream to her coffee from a silver server and took a sip. "Did he give you any tongue?" Ruth teased. "I'm serious," Connie replied. "This is embarrassing. Deek's best friend. How am I going to handle this?" Ruth slowly drew a Tijuana Slim from a teak box on the table and lit it with a heavy, chrome lighter in the shape of an Aladdin's lamp. She peered at her friend, for a moment, through heavily-shadowed lids, letting smoke drift out between her teeth in slow, curling tendrils. What she saw was a fresh-faced woman in her early thirties who looked ten years younger. Shoulder-length blonde hair, cut straight across at the bottom and pulled back at the sides leaving her ears visible. Her eyes were wide and blue and the expression of innocence on her face truly mirrored her soul. She was, Ruth knew, naive about her sexual attractiveness. Raised by strict, God-fearing parents who had forced her to attend church every Sunday morning and evening and every Wednesday night, she had grown up lacking the opportunity to date many men, and, as a result, had not developed a sense of who she really was. She was taught to be the dutiful daughter who waited hand and foot on her father, then, later, on her husband; it was the only role, besides that of being the caring mother, she had ever known. And here she sat in her sleeveless, summer dress with her characteristically calm, demure manner, radiating subtle, sensual allure; her oval face serene, her breasts full and firm above a narrow waist and nicely calved legs. Ruth sighed. What a waste. "I think the best thing you can do is to ignore it," Ruth said. "Pretend it never happened." Ruth knew Jarred very well. Star quarterback, but a bad reputation. Gossip was that he had knocked up a cheerleader after beating her up and raping her. The girl's family had moved rather than bring charges against him and embarrass their daughter by making the affair public. Connie huffed faintly, puffing out her cheeks. "And how is that possible?" she said, with a resigned sigh, raising her hand, then letting it drop back into her lap. "Or you could play it out," Ruth offered, archly. "What do you mean?" She gave her dark-haired friend a quizzical look. "Simple. What I mean is, when he kissed you, did you like it?" Connie sank back into the sofa, crossing her legs, then stared at Ruth, raising a hand slowly to the hollow of her throat. For a moment she stroked the soft, white skin there with her fingernails. "It happened so suddenly...I ...I can't recall feeling anything...really...." "But something, yes?" Ruth prompted. "Maybe a little," she lowered her eyes and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt where it had risen over her knees. "Well, why not go with your feelings--whatever they are. Let your feelings be your guide." "Are you suggesting that I--" Ruth held her hands up, palms toward Connie as if she were fending off an invisible dart. "I'm not suggesting anything. Just that you be in touch with your real feelings, then whatever you do will be right, no?" Connie didn't answer. Her gaze had suddenly taken on an unfocused, far-off look. * The blonde was naked, wrists and ankles taped securely to a straight-backed chair. A red ball gag was buried in her mouth. Leather thong straps cut cruelly into her cheeks. Her blue eyes were wide with terror as they focused on something off-camera. "Man, I'd like to fuck that," Deek said, clicking his mouse to enlarge the picture on his monitor. Jarred, standing behind him, glanced out the window above the monitor to where Deek's mother was hoeing in a small vegetable and herb garden. She was wearing blue shorts, red, sleeveless blouse and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Beyond was a vista of rolling meadows and woods scattered randomly. Fluffy white clouds drifted majestically through the brilliantly blue sky. "You know who she reminds me of?" Jarred said, distractedly. "No, who?" "Your mother." "No." "Oh, yeah. Pretty much so; only Connie's prettier." Jarred motioned out the window with a jerk of his head. "D'you ever think about what it would be like to fuck her?" "Do you with your mother?" Deek answered sarcastically. "I've done more than think about it." Deek turned to look up at his friend half curiously, half cynically. "Have we got a little bullshit piling up around here?" Jarred shrugged. Deek formed a mental image of Peggy Mercer, Jarred's mother. A pretty woman with long, wavy-brown hair. She and Jarred's father had been separated for years. He pictured Jarred on top of her. Both naked. Writhing hungrily. It was an unsettling image. "How did you get her to do it?" Deek asked, he knew his friend too long not to know when he was telling the truth. "Didn't have to do much; she wanted it as bad as I did. One evening, while we were talking about various things, she asked me if I'd ever smoked grass. I told her I had, and she asked me if I had any. Said she had done some in college. She was cool then, I guess. I got out my stash from the bottom drawer of my dresser. After we'd done a couple of joints; I turned the lights down low and the stereo up. It was like she was no longer my mother but just my best girl friend who was willing to do anything with me. Somewhere along the way we got naked and spent the whole night doing it." "Damn," Deek said, under his breath. "Damn." * Connie saw Deek and Jarred come out onto the patio. Jarred climbed on his sleek, black chopper and roared off. Deek waved at her and called out that he was on his way to the drive-in theater were he worked nights. Then he climbed in his Nova and barreled off, much to her annoyance. Gravel for the driveway wasn't cheap. She'd remind him of that tomorrow. She was wet with sweat as she entered the house. She closed the patio door behind her and took off her clothes in the laundry room, off the kitchen, and stuffed them into the washer to do later. She went to the bathroom and filled the tub and turned on the portable stereo sitting on the hamper. She lay with her head against the back of the tub, submerged in the warm, soapy water. She was faintly aroused, yet feeling guilty, remembering Jarred's kiss and the feel of his hard body against hers. What was it that Ruth had said? "Let your feelings be your guide." She moved her hand down her slippery belly to where her pubic hair began. There was a tingling sensation. She touched herself more deeply and trembled from a heady rush. She began to move against herself, closing her eyes, letting her fantasies run wild. The phone was ringing. She let it ring, hoping it would stop, but when it didn't, she realized it might be Burt who was doing a long-haul up to Canada. Reluctantly, she climbed out of the tub and wrapped a cheap, thin towel--one of the many Burt had taken from the anonymous motels he had stayed in--hurriedly around herself. She padded into the living room and glanced at the caller ID. It wasn't Burt's number; it was Jarred's. Why would he be calling when he had just left? "Wanna go for a ride?" Naked on the back of his motorcycle? She put the phone down and went into the dining room. Through the patio door she could see him straddling his motorcycle, parked on the patio. She hadn't heard him returning. When he saw her, he folded his cel-phone and put it in a holder on his monkey bars. She moved closer to the patio door, holding the towel pressed to her breasts. She realized she hadn't placed the Charley bar in the bottom groove of the door. He could come in anytime he wanted. But he made no move to do so. Instead, to her shock, he leaned back casually and unzipped his pants, taking out his cock. He began to masturbate slowly. His cock was big and uncircumcised. As he milked it harder, the foreskin slid back over the swollen, purple head. When he was fully hard, he jerked his cock rapidly until gray squirts of cum shot from the pee hole and onto the flag. When he was finished, he shook his cock off against his thigh and put it back in his pants. He started his bike and roared off. When the sound of the engine was no longer audible, she dropped the towel and stepped out onto the patio feeling a cum spot with her bare foot. Kneeling down on her hands and knees, almost as if she were mesmerized, she began to lap up his cum like a dog. It as still warm with the faint odor of bleach. She came suddenly, without warning. Her head slipped beneath the soapy bath water causing her to awake instantly; she rose up gurgling, her heart racing, her breathing labored; her climax had been so intense that her head throbbed with pain. * Sunday morning she put on her red, linen shirt-dress with a belt of leather tabs linked by colorful glass beads and a spaghetti-straps tie hanging down in the front. Carrying a pair of taupe high-heeled pumps with open toes, she set out across the meadow from the back of her house, as she usually did through the summer when the weather was nice, and walked to church, two miles distant. She hadn't bothered trying to get Deek to go with her. Since he rarely got in from work before 3am. And like his father, he didn't have much use for religion anyway. That always bothered her a little, but not enough to stifle the enjoyment of her solitary walks, listening to the birds chirping, feeling the sun warm on her skin, the fresh air, the breeze gently caressing her hair. These were the days that filled her with exuberance, an unbridled joy of being alive. She waded Miller's stream under a clump of piebald sycamore's and paused in the middle to stare down through the crystal clear water at her red-nailed feet wavering against the multi-hued, sandy bottom. Small minnows darted here and there over golden grains and speckled pebbles, like tiny birds' eggs, for the cover of smooth, mottled rocks the size of softballs. A dragonfly hovered for a moment about her face, sheening iridescently in the light, then zipped off, while long-legged water spiders skied jerkily by her calves. Nearer to the shore larger rocks peered above the water, their surfaces covered with splotches of green and white lichens. Dead, gray, branches of the sycamores--black and shiny where they had sunk into the water--lay nestled among clumps of Queene Anne's Lace, golden rods and dusty, tall grasses She made her way up a familiar path through the trees, brushing away a silvery spider's web, and finally came out into a meadow near an orange tube gate across a narrow, paved road from a brick church. In front, people were milling about socializing. Men in plain, short sleeves; women in colorful summer dresses. After the peace and quiet of her walk, Connie was reluctant to enter this preening gaggle of humanity. Holding onto the gate for balance, she slipped on her pumps, then waved at Peggy Mercer and Ruth, who were standing in the shade of a small maple talking, and joined them. As she did so, she saw Jarred astride his motorcycle, at the edge of the parking lot shaded by the church. The center of attention, it seemed, among a younger group of male and female admirers. Both Peggy and Ruth were with their current male suitors, so Connie separated from them and took a seat near the back when everyone filed into the church. The air conditioner wasn't working very well and several women began fanning themselves with circulars that were always stuck in the racks along with the hymnals. After the Sunday school classes were over and everyone had filed back in for the main service, Jarred startled her by sitting down next to her. They were the only ones seated toward the back. A few rows down, a little boy of four or five, with buck teeth, was standing, next to his mother, on the seat of his pew, staring backwards at Connie, his chubby hands gripping the scrolled top of the back rest. Spittle dribbled from the corner of his mouth and there was a vacant, idiot look in his eyes. It was the Scott boy who had been born retarded. The mother was a fat, pear-shaped woman, with huge breasts and scraggly hair; semi-retarded herself. The father was a drunk who only worked when he needed another bottle. One of the elders got up to announce the page number of a hymn. There was a shuffling sound as people reached for their hymnals and pages were flipped. They remained seated for this one. Someone cleared his throat, and almost as if it had been a signal, the singing began, wavering slightly off key at first, then getting on track. "Precious Jesus..." Connie had sung the familiar words a thousand times. She was no longer even conscious of the words. They had become merely one, long, drawn-out sound. Jarred leaned toward her, pretending to share her hymnal. But the words he sang were not the ones in the hymnal" "Precious Jesus bring me ass / Precious Jesus make it fast." She felt the heat of his thigh against hers. He reached his hand out and touched her knee cap with the tip of his finger and slowly traced a circle. Softly he kneaded the flesh letting his fingertip follow every dip and hollow of the bones. He pressed, creating a white spot, waited, then pressed gently again. The tip of his finger felt unnaturally warm to her. She could get up and leave, but she knew she wouldn't. Besides he might follow her. Was he crazy enough to cause a scene? What had come over him all of a sudden? He moved the hem of her skirt up slightly and stroked his fingers lightly down the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. She pretended not to notice. She sang, keeping her eyes focused on the words, until they became blurred jumbles of nonsense as impossible to decipher as a secret code. Her voice faltered as he released the bottom button of her dress. The widening slit revealed more of her thighs. His fingers played along the tender flesh with a light, almost feathery touch. Her eyelids drooped. It was an effort not to become completely absorbed into the seductive touch of his hand. He squeezed the inside of her thigh and pushed the skirt farther up. Releasing another button. His hand was halfway up her thigh now. She gritted her teeth, without realizing, and trembled with each touch. Were they being watched? She didn't dare open her eyes to see. She heard a giggle. Was the idiot child staring at her? Drooling slobber down his chin? Was he enjoying the show? Was the child possessed by a demon sent to mock her? She pictured idiot eyes leering at her with evil intent. Suddenly, she found herself standing, unsteadily. The congregation was singing the final hymn posted on the escutcheon hanging on the wall next to the dais. There was a concluding prayer by Brother Orin and everyone started shuffling out. She had retreated too far within herself to stay focused on individual faces as people streamed by. In a few minutes she was alone. The sounds of cars starting and muffled voices reached her ears as if she were separated from the real world by a labyrinth of tunnels distorting every sound. * When she got home, Connie put her shoes on top of the washer and began unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. She paused at the doorway. Farther down, on the opposite side of the hall, Deek's door was slightly ajar. For a moment she stood there, then slowly raised her hand to her throat, pressing her palm to it with her thumb on one side of her neck and her fingers on the other. She stroked the delicate skin lightly, then lowered her hand and went to the door, pushing it open gently. Deek was in his bed lying on his back naked. He had kicked the covering sheet to the side in his sleep. His cock was hard and arched up over the hard muscled stomach. Connie took a few hesitant steps into the room. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. Almost without thinking, she unbuttoned her dress and loosened the belt, letting them both drop to the floor. Her breathing became more shallow and rapid as she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. After this had joined the dress on the floor, she resolutely pulled her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. She moved several steps closer to the bed, reaching out to take the large cock in her hand -- then froze. There was the sudden, familiar sound of an air horn giving off it raucous baritone and gears catching as a 500 horsepowered diesel tractor slowed and turned off the highway onto their long, gravel drive. Burt! Connie wheeled around and hurried into her bedroom, hastily throwing on her terry bathrobe. She stepped hesitantly onto the patio barefooted as Burt pulled his rig to a stop about fifty feet from the house in a graveled lot he had made especially for it. After a minute or two, he shut the engine off, opened the door and stepped down off the running board. As he approached, she could tell by his lumbering gait that he was exhausted, and, as he came nearer, she saw that new lines had been etched in at the corners of his eyes. He gave her a weak smile and a quick kiss. "Want something to eat, honey?' she asked. "Naw, hon; right now all I want is a quick shower and hit the sack. Been up for the last twenty hours. I'm done in." He sat down at the dinning room table and emptied his pockets while she got him a beer and sat down adjacent to him, observing him quietly. She had never seen him as rung out as this. His face was pasty, and he looked ten years older. Yet he was only thirty-six, five years older than herself. He'd already lost most of his hair. Only a few, thin wisps remained on top. His jowls were beginning to sag, there were bags under his eyes, and in the last three or four years, he had developed a noticeable paunch. Driving a truck was hard on a man, she knew. Long hours behind the wheel; layovers; the fast food and, above all, the loneliness took their toll. She got up and hugged him from behind. "You take your shower; then I'll give you a good, long massage. Make you feel a whole lot better." He looked around at her and grinned. "Maybe something else make me feel better, too." "Hmm, and maybe you're not as tired as you look, huh?" "Maybe," he grinned. Mother Fucks Son with Dad's Help To say the least I was shocked when Dave told me that our son was checking me out. I wasn't shocked by my son's attention because I was already occasionally teasing him by letting him see me lounging in my bikini beside the back yard pool, or in sexy see-through gowns. What surprised me was that my husband had noticed my son's interest in me. As a fifty-one-year-old mother of three, I was a member of a nearby gym and worked hard to maintain my slim, sexy figure. A lot of people claim that I've retained the same shape I possessed as when I was 40. That is flattering, but nothing is more flattering to me than when I feel my son's eyes flowing over my body, admiring my assets. Doug had just turned twenty-seven and had grown into a very attractive young man. Even though he was my son, I found him extremely arousing and spent time taking inventory of his muscular body as much as he did mine. I especially found the large bulge at the crotch of his pants exciting. But I didn't expect anything to happen between us. After all, we are mother and son. Then Dave told me he'd seen how we teased each other, and everything changed. My husband asked me if I wanted to have sex with Doug and, at first, I was hesitant to answer him. I didn't know how to answer him. On the one hand I found the idea very exciting. On the other, I felt a need to conform to society's ideals regarding my role as a wife and mother. When I asked Dave what he thought, he said he thought the idea of it was hot. He said that if I decided to do it, he wanted to watch. He told me that blondes had a reputation for being extremely sexual, and when he married me he had hoped I would live up to the reputation. He even informed me of several times when he had called plumbers and electricians to the house when nothing was wrong, hoping I would let them seduce me. It seems that his number one fantasy was to watch me make love to another man. "I know you want to do it, so whenever you're ready you can invite Doug to join us in our bed and fulfill both our fantasies," Dave said. He reached between my legs to rub my wet pussy through my panties. "Just look how wet you've gotten from talking about it. Why don't you do it right now?" I bit my lower lip, feeling hotter than I'd ever felt in my life. I couldn't believe my husband was encouraging me to make love to our son. So what do you want to do?" To hell with society, I thought and sent him to go get Doug. While Dave was gone, I removed my large nightgown and put on a sexy black teddy with matching panties. Each item was so sheer he could easily see my pale skin beneath the filmy material. I was so excited by the prospect of what was about to happen that my erect nipples protruded visibly and my panties immediately became soaked with the heavy flow of juices seeping from my bushy pussy. Lying back on the bed, I awaited my husband's return. Dave arrived with a sleepy Doug in tow. When our son saw me lying on the bad in my sexiest lingerie, he immediately snapped awake. He looked from me to his father, then returned his eyes to me, his head moving back and forth as though he was watching a volley in a tennis match. "Your mother and I have noticed the way you've been looking at her. She thinks you want her and I know she wants you. So, if you want, you can have her," his father told him. "Go ahead and take her. She wants you to." Doug hesitated, not really sure what he should do. I could tell by the rising bulge at the front of his pajamas that he was interested, but he remained where he was until I gave him the proper encouragement. "You heard your father. I want you to make love to me. So get over here and show me how strong a man you can be. Tear this teddy off me and give me the type of powerful fucking I know we've both been dreaming of, "I said. He did just that. My son removed his pajamas as he moved toward the bed. When he was naked and I saw the size of his cock, I gasped aloud. It was huge. The fat, monstrous piece of meat was almost twice as long and thick as his father's. I glanced over at Dave and saw that he was equally amazed by the size of our son's equipment. I began to feel a little nervous about taking that thing inside me. Climbing onto the bed, my son snatched open the front of my short top, ripping the fabric and baring my cherry-capped titties. He pulled me to him and kissed me passionately as his hands caressed my breasts. "Oh Mom, I've wanted to do this for a long time," he whispered when our lips separated. "Then what are you waiting for?" I pushed my panties down my legs and kicked them toward Dave. I pulled my son on top of me, spreading my legs for him. "Take what you want. I'm not stopping you," I cried out at the first thrust of his cock. That huge thing only went a fourth of the way into me, but I could feel it stretching my horny blonde haired snatch widely. My son's cock felt like a baseball bat inside me. I continued to cry out, clinging to him, digging my fingernails deep into his shoulders as he shoved that monster into me. For a moment, my son paused to ask me if he was hurting me. I told him that there was a small amount of pain because he was so big, but I let him know I liked feeling him inside me and told him not to stop. My husband later said he couldn't believe it when I took all of our son's cock. He said that from his vantage point my blonde-furred cunt looked as if it was about to split open. I was sure it did because if felt like it was about to split open beneath the forceful fucking of Doug's massive prick. Doug held me tightly, fucking into me with hard deep strokes. Each time he shoved his cock into the depths of my cunt, I could feel it pound against my cervix as though seeking entrance to the womb he came from. I could feel my inner muscles gripping tightly around the length of him, clinging to the hard shaft. "Ugh, Mom, you're so tight and wet," Doug grunted. He began to slam his cock into me harder, faster, and deeper, each thrust making me cry out in intense pleasure. "Oh, Doug," I moaned. "You're hurting me with that big wonderful cock of yours! Don't stop! Oh, that big cock hurts so good!" I lifted my legs and wrapped them around Doug's back, letting him fuck me as hard and deep as he wanted to, taking every stroke he gave me. Glancing towards my husband, I saw that he had his pajama bottoms down around his ankles and was briskly moving his hand up and down around his cock as he watched Doug fuck me. "Mom, Mom. I'm gonna cum," Doug groaned as he continued to wildly plunge his hard thickness into the hungry wet hole between my thighs. Feeling my son's hands gripping my ass, his lips sucking hungrily at my breasts, and his cock moving inside me was filling me with an uncontrollable fire. But it was knowing that it was my son who was fucking me and filling me with such erotic sensations that sent me over the edge. "Me too, Baby. I'm gonna cum, too," I told him. I could feel my body tensing in preparation for an orgasm and my cunt clamped down even tighter on Doug's cock, squeezing it rhythmically. "Fuck me, Honey. Fuck me and cum inside me. Oh, Baby, cum deep inside my hot pussy!" Again Doug did as he was told, pushing deep into me and squirting his hot seed. As soon as I felt the first rush of his semen splatter against the mouth of my womb I joined him in orgasm, shuddering with the intensity of my climax as my pussy juiced heavily over the length of his embedded shaft. When he finished coming, and without softening or withdrawing, Doug began to fuck me again. I lay beneath him, moaning pleasurably as his prick thrust into me again and again. He fucked me two more times before he left that night and returned to his own room. I came so much my wet cunt continued to tingle even after his big cock was no longer within it. After Doug's departure, I stated to get up to take a shower and change the messy sheets. While watching me and our son, Dave had cum three times and I was sure he was satisfied. But he was not through with me yet. I was shocked and thrilled to find that my husband had something special planned for me. Pushing me back upon he bed, my husband knelt on the floor in front of me. He raised and spread my legs so that my cunt was completely exposed to him. Suddenly he moved forward and began to kiss and lick at the sweat-covered sensitive flesh on the insides of my thighs. He licked his way upward to cover my drooling opening with his mouth, making me gasp and writhe in ecstasy as his tongue flicked energetically at my clit. Dave buried his face in the cum-matted blonde hair covering my pussy, and drank the flavorful mixture of his wife and son's sexual juices. He made me cum in his mouth twice before moving to lie on the bed beside me. As we lay there, he told me how much he loved me and enjoyed watching me with our son. He said that he had especially enjoyed eating me afterwards, and hoped that he would be treated to more of the same. We slept spoon fashion and he held me close, his hard cock nestled in the slippery, cum-wet crease between my buttocks. After that first night, my son began to make love to me constantly. I told him he could have me whenever he wanted and he took total advantage of the privilege. As he was a healthy young man with a strong sex drive, that meant daily fuckings that happened up to three times a day. It didn't matter where I was or who was there. Whenever Doug let me know he wanted me, I went to him. His siblings became aware that he was fucking me shortly after we began. We tried to keep it from them, but I guess we didn't try hard enough. They caught us going at it on several occasions and, after a while, we stopped trying to be secretive about it, fucking right out in the open where we were easily seen. I later found out that his brother and sister had been fucking each other long before they found out about us. So after their initial surprise at discovering me and Doug together, they didn't think anything of it. Doug began experimenting with oral and anal sex and I let him do whatever he wanted. Sometimes Dave gave his son pointers, and at others Doug relied on his own imagination. I like best when Doug is left to his own devices. He can be so inventive and possesses a kinky streak, like his father, that drives me crazy and totally releases me from my inhibitions. For example, one night my husband and I had friends over for dinner. While Dave entertained our guests, I went to the kitchen to check on the roast and prepare a salad. As I was placing the salad in the dishes for serving, Doug entered the room. Approaching me from behind, he reached around to cup my breasts, pulling me to him as he nuzzled the back of my neck. He unzipped my dress and I protested weakly, but like the good son he is, he ignored my pleas and removed my clothing. When I was naked, except for my garter belt, stockings, and shoes, he positioned me on my hands and knees in the middle of the floor and began to fuck me doggy style. As usual, Doug pushed into me hard, his big cock stretching my cunt wide and plunging deep. My son is never gentle with me, and I like his forcefulness. That time was no exception. Gripping me by my long blonde hair, he rode me roughly, slamming his horse-sized shaft into me over and over again as I bit my lip to keep from screaming in pleasure. By the time I felt his cock begin to throb in orgasm, I had cum three times and cunt juices covered the insides of my thighs. Although letting Doug fuck me in that situation was kinky and exciting, knowing that somebody could have walked into the kitchen at any time and discovered us there, still, that was nothing compared to what he did next. After coming inside me, my son did something truly wild. Before withdrawing his cock from my cunt, he grabbed one of the dishes of salad and placed it between my legs. He then unplugged his cock from my hole and caught the overflowing mixture of whitish cream as it dribbled in dense dollops from my well-fucked pussy. When he handed the bowl to me, I saw that our cum juices covered the salad in a thick gooey coating. "Here, take this and give it to Dad," he said with a devilish smile. "He'll like it." I did what he said. Cleaning up and getting dressed, I served dinner, watching the expression on my husband's face as he tasted the salad and its special dressing. With the first bite of salad, he looked at me, his eyes wide with astonishment, and I knew he was aware of what he was eating. Then I saw him smile and watched him clean his dish, even going so far as to sop the remaining cream from the bowl with a roll. Three months later my gynecologist told me the good news. I was pregnant. I couldn't wait to tell my husband, so I rushed over to his office. When I told him that I was pregnant with our son's baby, he locked the door and fucked me happily. That was 2 years ago, and instead of being a mother of three I am now a mother of four. My entire life has changed and so has life within my family. My daughter and I are constantly fucked by the men in the family. Also, in addition to having sex with my son, and with my husband's encouragement, I have taken on other lovers as well. I am writing this letter to say that I am so happy to have such a loving, perceptive, and understanding husband. My life has never been more exciting and fulfilling than it is right now. Mother Fucks He got up and made to slap her on the butt, then ambled on down the hall to the bathroom, sipping on his beer. Next to his wallet, keys and some loose change was a black 35mm film container. She popped off the plastic lid. It was half-full of small, white pills. Pep pills to keep him from nodding off on the road. She snapped the lid back on the cylinder and placed it back on the table. * She took off her bathrobe and straddled his buttocks, then moistened the palms of her hands with scented oil from a wooden bowl on the nightstand to began massaging him. He wasn't a tall man, about medium height, but his shouders were broad and muscular. They were also hairy. She moved her hands down the ridge on either side of his spine, spreading her fingers and kneading the fleshy love handles. She moved off his buttocks and continued to knead down the cheeks of his ass, gripping them tightly, then releasing slowly, letting her oiled fingernails scrape lightly over the warm flesh. She knew he was becoming aroused when his asscheeks squeezed taut and he began to move against the matress with a subtle motion. Slowly, he turned onto his back and, gripping her thighs, pulled her up to his hard cock. With one hand he placed the head against her cunt, then placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her resolutely down onto the thick staff. He gave her several quick thrust, then arched his back up off the mattress as he shot off into her. Cum dripped from her pussy as he settled back onto the bed with a sigh of relief. He patted her thigh and closed his eyes. After a moment, Connie went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up, then took a warm, wet washcloth into the bedroom to clean his dick. He was fast asleep and snoring when she finished. * "Let's go cruising," Jarred said. "Get some beer at Gertrude's; see if we can't pick up some bitches; get a little." "Yeah, right; fat chance," Deek replied. "Never know; might get lucky, bato." Jarred was sitting in front of Deek's computer surfing porn sites. Deek lay on his bed, hands behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling. Both youths were barechested, wearing faded jeans and joggers. "Besides ain't got no money," Deek said. "Don't get paid till Friday." "Hell, you gotta have some, workin' at the drive-in and all," Jarred said, peevishly. "Yeah, but I put mine in the bank for college, asshole; I don't have a fucking football scholarship like you," he retorted. Jarred tapped on his mouse, unruffled, and waited for another picture to appear. Well, uh, I'll tell yuh what; why don't we head over to my place, and I'll get some money from Peggy. Deek hadn't seen Jarred's mother since he'd told him about fucking her. He tried to picture her naked and began to be aroused. "OK," he said, finally. "What the hell; beats lying around here." "I gotta take a piss," Jarred said, as they started out. When Deek had gone on out to his Nova to wait, Jarred walked quietly into the living room and saw Connie asleep on the sofa. The TV was on low. She was wearing a pale blue shift with a zippered front; the hem had risen halfway up her thighs. Her shoulders were bare except for thin straps. She lay on her side, knees drawn up, her pink lips slightly parted, her blonde hair fixed into a pony tail. After a moment he went out and told Deek to go on; he would follow. "I gotta get some gas at Pete's; I'll meet you at home." After Deek was gone, Jarred went back into the house. He knew Burt was gone, but he didn't know where or for how long, but that only made him more excited as he thought about what he had decided to do. He went back into the living room and took off his shoes and jeans. Quietly, he pushed the coffee table out of the way and got on his knees before the sofa. His cock was fully hard; so hard that it hurt. He reached up to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face. Her eyelids fluttered, but she remained lost in sweet dreams. His fingers found the zipper tab and tugged at it gently. * Peggy and Ruth were lounging by the rectangular swimming pool when Deek strolled around to the back of the impressive stone and glass house. Both women were wearing thong-backed bikinis with skimpy triangular tops. Oak and maple trees, neatly manicured hedges and a wide-ranging lawn separated them from any would-be prying neighbors. On a round, glass-topped table, between them, sat two old-fashioned glasses full of a golden liquid and ice. "Hi, Deek," Peggy said, giving him a warm smile, her smooth, white teeth brilliant against her tanned face. Ruth gave him a wave, one of her Tijuana Slims caught between her lips. "I thought Jarred was over at your place?" "He's comin'; had to get gas at Pete's." "Want a beer?" "Deek grinned and nodded. Not quite ever being able to get over how Peggy always treated him as if he were an adult and how his mother always treated him like a kid. She would never have offered him a beer. She picked up a cel-phone off the table. "Maria. Una cerveza, por favor." She set the phone down. "I'll tell you something, if you don't repeat it," Peggy said. "What?" Deek asked, taking a seat in a padded chair nearby. The crystal clear water of the pool refracted angular bands of light against its blue-tiled sides and bottom as it sparkled in the sunlight. He stared at the well-formed body of the woman and wondered if Jarred had been bullshitting him. "I think Maria likes you. She told me the other day that you were cute." Deek smiled self-consciously and glanced down for a moment. When he looked back up, Maria was placing a long-necked bottle of dark lager on the table before him. She gave him a shy smile. She wasn't hard to take. Long, dark hair and wide, dark eyes; smooth caramel skin. Lips and nails painted a deep, ripe red. Fresh with the flush of youth. Standing next to him, she smelled faintly of locust blossoms when they bloom in early May. "Thanks, Maria," he murmured. He looked into eyes that spoke back to him better than words could have. She said something softly in Spanish, then was gone. Peggy and Ruth chuckled. "Maybe she'll teach you the horizontal lambada, if you get lucky," Ruth teased. "He's already lucky," Peggy said, leaning toward him and tousling his hair playfully. Her full breasts swelled against the small triangles of yellow cloth covering her nipples and Deek felt his cock becoming stiff as her long fingernails tickled his scalp. Leaning closer she whispered, "Aren't you?" Her eyes were also speaking to him. He could smell Bacardi on her breath and the fragrant scent of vanilla tanning oil baking on her near naked body. * Jarred pulled the tab down to her belly, then pressing gently on her thighs, he moved her legs down until they were straight and finished pulling the tab down to the guide, slipping it off. He separated the front of her shift. She was naked underneath, not even panties. Her cunt hair was as blonde as the hair on her head. The real McCoy. His need to have his cock in her was overwhelming. Lightly, he touched her breasts with trembling hands, pressing his thumbs on the nipples. Her mouth opened a little; she sighed, but her eyes remained closed. Slowly, very carefully, he positioned her onto her back, then spreading her legs, he got on his knees between her thighs. Leaning over he kissed her softly on the mouth, running the tip of his tongue along the furrow of her parted lips until they glistened wetly. He could wait no longer. He placed the head of his cock against her cunt and, as he shoved it in, thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. His cock entered her fully before her blue eyes snapped opened, bewildered, staring into his. He grabbed her wrists, forcing them against the arm of the sofa above her head. He pushed hard into her, pinning her hips down. She was powerless beneath his muscular body. She twisted her face to the side. "No!," she gasped harshly. "No! No!" He ignored her. "Staaaahhpiiit, Jaaarred! Staaahhpiiit! uummeeee! --" Her words broke off into a whine as she tried to wriggled from beneath him. But her struggling only made him more excited. His cock swelled inside her; there was a sucking sound as he moved in and out; his hard belly slapped rhythmically against hers. The rhythm picked up; his body grew taut. Connie stopped struggling. Her body gave beneath him. She closed her eyes, turning her wet lips away from his. His breath was hot and rapid against her cheek. He came hot and fast, thrusting into her roughly, groaning loudly. As he sat up and began putting on his pants, she turned on her side to face the back of the couch and curled up. Minutes later there was the throbbing beat of his chopper, then a diminishing roar. * Jarred and Ruth danced awhile to cumbia coming from a portable stereo. Then Ruth took off her top and dove into the pool. Jarred dove in after her. A moment later she squealed excitedly as Jarred tousled with her from underwater, then surfaced; with a huge grin, he tossed her red thong onto the edge of the pool. Deek was on his fourth beer. He wasn't a big drinker, like Jarred, and he was feeling a little light headed -- and definitely uninhibited. He had a raging hard-on that threatened to bust the seams of his pants. He couldn't take his eyes off Peggy in her skimpy swimsuit. He wanted to fuck her more than anything he had ever wanted. The four beers made him feel heady enough to think it was a definite possibility. And when Peggy sidled up to him and suggested a walk, he was feeling certain. They walked away from the pool and the house over a smooth lawn around hedges and under sheltering maples and oaks. As they walked, she moved closer to him and placed her arm around his waist. Her bare hip moved against his. When they were secluded behind a thick clump of lilacs, she stopped and undid her top, then pushed down her bikini and stepped out of it, balancing herself with one hand on his shoulder. She didn't say anything as she reached out and squeezed the head of his cock with her thumb and forefinger. He hadn't realized until then that the head was sticking up out of his waistband. She unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. He wasn't wearing underwear. There was heat in her glance as she sank to her knees and gripped the base of his cock in one hand while she scraped the foreskin back over the head with her teeth. Her other hand she placed on his asscheek, playing the tips of her fingers up and down the crack, inserting the tip of a finger in his hole. Mesmerized, Deek stared down at the perfect globes of her tits and asscheeks; both quivering firmly as she moved back and forth on him. "Give it to me, baby," she said, taking his cock out of her mouth for a moment. "I want to swallow all of you." It struck him that she kept her eyes on his face while she sucked him, like all those women in the porn flicks he and Jarred had watched. It made him feel tremendously powerful. He no longer felt like a boy; he was a man with a woman, a woman 'doing' him. So. This is what it's like, he thought. He was on top of the world. When he came she swallowed every drop; then, with a dreamy expression on her face, she lay back on the grass, spreading her legs and held her arms up to him. Beckoning wantonly. * "What's the matter, mom," Deek asked. She had just come to his bedroom door and stood, trembling, between the jambs, her face struck and pale, her fingers pressed to her throat. "That was the coroner's office on the phone; your father had a heart attack; the state police found his rig parked on the side of an exit. He's dead." * Many had come to view the body at the funeral home. Fewer had come to the burial service, no doubt due to the incessant drizzle that fell from a mournful sky. "We come into this world with nothing..." the preacher, a tall, broad-shouldered man, was saying, "and we leave again as we came. Life is but the blink of an eyelid. The swift dart of the sparrow. Only the fool covets it. The wise man puts his store in the Lord, who is our only salvation...." Deek stood close to his mother, their hips touching, holding a black umbrella over them. No tent had been set up. The soil was soggy; the grass wet. She had taken her pumps off, holding them in her hand. Some of the women glanced at her with somber disapproval. Before leaving the house that morning he had seen his mother take two shots of whiskey. He had never known her to drink before. He could smell the bourbon on her breath and her perfume and the more pervading smell of fresh cut hay lying wet in the fields all about. . . . Then it was over. People, relatives, passed by, nodding their condolences. Among them, Peggy and Ruth. Then he and Connie were alone, waiting for the others to leave. The Nova wouldn't start. "It all right," she said. "We can walk back over the meadow." They skirted the edge of Miller's field, concealed between the woods and rolls of cylindrical, 600 pound bales of hay that had been left over from last year. Black and gray, they bore no resemblance to the freshly cut green lines of hay lying in the field, needing to be turned and dried before they could be gathered. They had left the umbrella in the car. The rain increased its tempo, plastering their hair against their scalps and clothes against their bodies. Connie's wet summer dress, navy back with small white dots, clung revealingly to every curve. Abruptly, she stopped in her tracks; legs spread, back arched, she raised her face to the sky and brushed the rain from her oval face with the heels of her hands, then wobbled slightly, extending an arm out to her son for balance. A sudden flash of lightning made tributaries across the face of the gray sky. There was a sharp report. A stiff wind gushed in from across the field, lowering the tops of trees. Rain began pelting down mixed with pearl-sized hail. There were several more flashes of lightning followed by the loud booming of thunder. Deek placed his arm around her waist and hurriedly guided her into the woods. He could feel the firmness of her body and its heat through their wet clothes as she leaned tottering against him. They were both thoroughly soaked. They leaned up against the thick trunk of an oak that sheltered them somewhat from the force of the wind and rain. Deek held her close, feeling her soft breasts against his chest. Her mouth was against his neck; her breath warm, moist; her lips brushing. She moved her head back. Her blue eyes stared up into his; her lips bright red with beads of rain; her blonde bangs were flat against the rounded forehead. Vaguely, he remembered waking and, dream-like, seeing her standing naked beside his bed; her clothes lying on the floor; the blonde triangle of hair between her thighs; the thin outline of her slit. She had wanted him then, and she wanted him now. He felt his cock swelling against the clinging fabric of his crotch. He felt her hand touching, stroking, him there. Squeezing gently but firmly; communicating a need that had to be fulfilled. His fingers found the zipper tab and pulled it down to the small of her back. As he undid the hooks of her bra, he heard her sharp intake of breath. She moved closer, grinding her pelvis into him. He pulled the dress down off her shoulders, along with the bra, letting them fall to her feet in the mud. He pulled the panties down her smooth, white hips. She clung to him naked, her face buried against his chest. Then one of her hands reached for his buckle while the other continued to massage his fully erect cock through the cloth of his pants. Quickly, as if she'd performed the action many times, she unzipped and pulled his pants down along with his shorts. He felt the soft palm of her hand move around the swollen staff of his cock, pumping him. She tore open the front of his shirt and eagerly began kissing the muscular chest, murmuring hot, smothered words. Kicking off his shoes, Deek stepped rapidly out of his pants, sweeping them aside with his foot; then, picking his mother up, he carried her to a patch of tall grass and placed her down on her back. She kept her arms around his neck smothering his face with lustful kisses, nipping at his lips with her teeth, sucking on his tongue and moaning hungrily. Wildly, she writhed against him as he kneeled between her thighs. She gripped his cock with both hands and guided him into her. As he slid in, her hands frantically gripped his asscheeks, pulling him deeper. His belly touched hers. He was deep inside. She was tight. Her fingers squeezed his asscheeks; the tips of her nails trailed tantalizingly over his balls, shooting tingling sensations up and down his spine. Then she gasped loudly as he buried his cock deep in her belly with a sharp, quick thrust and emptied his creamy load. They lay together, unmoving, for a long time, oblivious to the rain that washed their flesh; their mouths locked together in a sated kiss, the sounds of thunder receding in the distance. * The phone rang. Connie rolled over on the bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes and picked up the receiver. "Yes?" she murmured sleepily. "Wanna take a ride?" "Yes," she said, after a moments hesitation. "All right. I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't wear anything." Connie hung the phone up and glanced at her son sleeping in the nude next to her. She would be back before he awoke. Naked, she stood in front of the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Turning sideways, she placed her palm against her tummy. She was beginning to show. She wouldn't be able to hide it much longer. Her breasts were becoming larger; the pink nipples were super sensitive. She was sexually aroused all the time. Insatiable. She stood on the patio and waited. Her heart racing. He had been cruel last time. Maybe a bit too? But she had been excited. He would be that way again, she knew. More so, maybe. Her heart beat faster. It was in his nature. She heard the low rumble of his motorcycle approaching in the distance, becoming louder. She felt herself becoming wet. ~ fini ~