0 comments/ 137363 views/ 29 favorites Incidental Indiscretions By: Barb36D This story is a prequel to "New Years Kisses." Mirrors are not our friends +++++ Stepping out of the shower and drying off on that cool December night back in 1988, I stood at my mirrored vanity. As a 38-year-old mother of two grown kids, I was about to secretly perform perhaps the sickest of self-confirming rituals. SELF: "Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?" I silently asked with raised eyebrow eager for a positive reaffirming sign. MIRROR: "Hmm, well if we're talking fair as in "average," then I'd say you're hanging in there." SELF: "Okay, the "girls" had slipped a bit lately, but they're still nice, big and round, C'MON!" I pleaded, handily hoisting my double-d's up for a perkier pose. MIRROR: "Time for a reality check, Chubby. Sure your tits are admirable; but we're talking fairest of them ALL...right? In which case, I fear MJ has you covered in spades -- HA!" SELF: "Stupid fucking mirror!" I covered the undeniable evidence with my towel and gave the mirror one last disgruntled sneer. MIRROR: "Hey, let's talk again, once you've dropped say 20 or 25 pounds!" The unforgiving magical monster chided, as my bruised ego and chubby rest-of-me made our getaway. Whipping open the bathroom door, I immediately crashed into a six-foot tall masculine frame. My towel unhinged itself from between my jugs, which I'm sure offered my son a brief yet revealing view of my mature goodies. "JOSH, what the hell?" I shrieked, doing my best to pull the white terrycloth towel close enough to prevent a full frontal exposure. "Sorry Mom; didn't mean to startle you," he calmly assured me, letting his hand cautiously rest on my bare shoulder. His innocent touch sent an unexpected tingle clean through me. [God, I haven't been touched by a man in damn near a month, and it has to be my SON!] Quickly shifting my trusty towel from vertical back to horizontal I slid from under the warmth of his harmless yet inappropriate touch. Still tingling, I tightly wrapped and secured the towel as before. "So what's the big urgency, and why are you whispering?" With his wide eyes glued on my deep cleavage, he surely must be in awe of my expertise in towel management--right! Raising both arms to finger-comb my wet locks, I let him ogle to his heart's content. [I mean hell, he is a man and I haven't flirted in such a long time.] When he remained silent to my question, I tossed my hair back and did a one-eighty. Playfully backing my 5-foot, 4-inch frame into him, I leaned back against his chest to make eye contact. "Earth to Josh!" I exclaimed; watching his focus make its way from my chest to my inquiring eyes. [What can I say; my son is a boob man. I love it!] He gulp/coughed before I felt both hands on my shoulders. This was typically a sign that a massage was soon to follow. He's diligently performed many a shoulder kneading to relieve my recent tension. He knows I love it. Feeling those talented fingers starting to work my bare shoulders, I realized this was his first message with me nearly naked. "Just wanted to let ya know, I'm on Bastard Patrol tonight; gotta hot lead," he whispered in my ear like an undercover agent (no pun intended). I never wanted to know where he got his hot leads, but I was glad he kept his voice down. With 14-year-old Megan just down the hall, this was information I was ashamed to share with Josh, never mind with his younger sister. This was more than your normal 'Where's Waldo' case of incidental deception. Josh thought of spying on his old man as cloak and dagger work -- a dark Ninja-type adventure. Fact was I had known for months that Donny had been up to no good with his secretary from work. After several late nights of work-related excuses, I figured the 25-year-old vixen had her hooks out for fresh hubby flesh. Donny, the unsuspecting sap he is, was no doubt having another mid-life meandering. For Mary Jane Karwell ("MJ" to nearly everybody), I didn't honestly believe she was fishing for the perfect catch to save her from a less-than-adequate life. She was just a trampy ball-buster that required plenty of male attention. Hey, I was once twenty-five and burning candles at both ends. I know how the attention of older guys can be a real turn on. I got a preview of what she was capable of at last year's company Bar-B-Que. After virtually dumping her boy-toy husband upon arrival, she soon had three horny married guys sniffing around her. I kind of got a kick from watching her juggle all that testosterone, at least until Donny started sniffing. Since the sniffing never amounted to any substantial fooling around, I let it slide; never once confronting him about the party or MJ. In retrospect, I probably should have questioned him at the time. [Don't ya hate shouldas and couldas?] "Well, just make sure YOU don't get into trouble. That's all we need," I warned Josh, as I retreated from under his fluent fingers to dress for bed. Slipping my thin-strapped cotton nightgown overhead I let the towel drop and slid under the covers. [Now, get out of here handsome, before I throw a net over you and drag your tight, ripe body in next to me.] Josh was such a calm and collected character; not at all like his once wild and unrestrained mother at that age. His raging teenage hormones never surfaced as far as I knew -- low metabolism or some chemical imbalance. Who knows? I always sensed a transcendent twinkle behind his eyes and an occasional red-faced blush whenever the question of sex was discussed, so I was sure he wasn't queer. Hearing his refurbished late 60's Cadillac rumbling out of the drive, I fingered through a few pages of my latest romance novel before dozing off. Whether it was that cold gust of December chill or Josh's gloved hand on my shoulder, I was startled awake at 12:17 A.M. A blurred glance at the time and unruffled bed told me Donny still wasn't home. "Get up Mom. Get up! I found him. He's at the Family Inn and he's not alone. C'mon, get up!" "Jesus Chr--- JOSH! What the hell?" "Bastard Patrol, ya know. C'mon, I found him!" Josh insisted, like he'd just discovered John Dillinger's hideout. Pulling me up to a slump, he was so tickled with his news. My brain (no doubt still floating in some evaporated dream) was slow to react, while I let him shake my body awake. "Okay, OKAY! Let ME do this," I yelled, pulling my jeans up over my gown. "Here, you'll need this." Josh impatiently shoved my arms into Donny's floor-length trench coat. "That's not my c---," I started, when he twirled me around to cinch the belt around me. "There's no time. We've got to hurry; he'll get away." Undercover Amazon +++++ Here I am dressed in my nightgown, jeans, booties, and Donny's trench coat looking like some twisted female version of Sam Spade. "Gosh, maybe I ought to pack some heat; whatdya think, Rocco?" I smirked, as my son plopped a knit cap on top of my disheveled coif. A quick dash into the December cold, Ma Bonny and her Clyde were soon in the warm Caddie winding our way to Donny's designated rendezvous -- a real den of inequity -- the midtown Family Inn. Now I was awake and wondering even more just what the hell I was expected to do. Josh wasn't real exact about how to deal with a fox in the hen house. After a speedy race across town, Josh silently backed into a secure, well-hidden parking space at the less-than-posh Family Inn. He let me know the room number and that it was halfway across the outside balcony on the second level. "Well Josh, just so you know, I have no plans on confronting your father. I mean it's good to know what he's up to... and with whom, but there's no way I'm going to make a big scene. Do you understand?" I stated, gathering the too long trench coat around me. "Hey, whatever you say. But if anything DOES go wrong, just let me know, Okay?" I detected a sigh of indignation in his voice, but I knew there was no way he wanted to see me physically hurt. The emotional damage would be severe enough for any jilted spouse. I quietly opened the car door and proceeded to the stairway. The cold wind gave me a jolt, as it swirled under and up my long coat. Reaching the second level I lightly strode down the open walkway. At 12:45 most of the lights were out, except for room 232. Lowering myself at the window, I saw a crack in the pulled drapes. Not a big crack, but certainly large enough to peer into the lit room. Squatting down to perch myself at the window, I nearly slipped on a patch of ice. It was my daring Donny alright. Lying butt-naked on a king-sized bed with an equally naked Mary Jane Karwell free-riding him for all he was worth. The initial sight of my hubby's obvious carnal betrayal was at once disgusting and detestable. Jealousy burned inside my gut, as I continued to validate his indiscretion. Allowing the seedy vision to seep into my conscious, the sight of MJ's bared body parts and art of seduction somehow captivated me. With her extra-long wavy brunette hair and heavy laden dark makeup, she was truly a slut whore by anybody's definition. Her marvelously proportioned booty and 25-year-old boobs seemed even larger in reality. Funny thing is, compared to 5'10" Donny, she was a virtual giant. Watching the 6-foot tall amazon forcibly bouncing up and down like a jack hammer on my hubby's lower half, I couldn't help but snicker. My lips loosened from an intense pout and curled into a half-witted smile. The more I watched their hyper-charged lust, the more comical the whole scene became. "Good Lord Donny, she'll ruin you for sure!" I chided to myself. Feeling the patch of ice taking its toll on my poor booties, I shifted my weight as the comedy played on. "Oops, must be the end of Act 1," I assumed, as the mismatched couple switched positions. Now my view of MJ was completely unobstructed, as Donny slid down her long torso and legs to have at her snatch. "God, what a fucking slut," I nearly verbalized, as my hubby's mouth and tongue went to work on her pussy. "What a... an incredible fucking slut!" I reissued to myself, as my breath started to fog the window. Her spread thighs and uncommonly long legs twitched and danced, as my hubby continued to pleasure her. All the time, the drama in her facial expressions rapidly morphed from fear and pain to ecstasy; from ecstatic joy to insatiable wickedness. With Donny's face buried in her bushy vagina, he must be missing all of this. I became increasingly enamored with her and helpless to avert my eyes. [My God, she can't actually SEE me, can she?] Paranoia set in, along with my increasing infatuation. My answer came soon enough. She wasn't playing to an audience of one. Two hairy stocky legs bent at the knees joined her. [Damn drapes!] I couldn't make him out from his posterior. Clearly MJ was making out just fine, as she greedily jacked and sucked the second man's hard cock. By now my jealousy had switched from MJ to whomever was doing her, and I'm sure my breath wasn't the only thing steaming up the window. Feeling bolder, I came out of my crouch and stood up. Curiosity had gotten the best of me. Rubbing my fingers ever-so-lightly over the frosted glass for a better look at Mister Hairy Butt Man; I was getting good at all this stealth stuff. Unfortunately that last thought was simply a conjecture on my part, as I heard the squeak. [Just a tiny little squeak. They couldn't have heard...] "Oh SHIT!" Heads jerked/turned and three sets of eyes shot to where they each thought the noise come from. That's when my pink bootie froze to the ice patch and my head hit the window trying to salvage it. "My God, it's Kenny!" My heightened senses and half-frozen body somehow got their shit together enough to get me running and skidding back down the icy walkway and metal stairwell. Nearly out of breath by the time I got to the Caddy, I figured there must be three naked people hot on my heels. Grabbing the back door handle, I whipped it open and virtually dove into the back seat. "DRIVE!" "What's the deal? Are you okay?" Josh cranked over the ignition. "DRIVE DAMN IT!" I shouted, slowly peering out the rear window. "Okay, okay; we're outta here," Josh shifted into gear and within minutes we were out of the neighborhood and on the interstate. "Did anybody see you? What happened?" Josh scanned his rearview mirror. Still out of breath and shaken from my perilous escape, I had no idea if they had seen me. Finally sitting up, holding on to my ice-soaked bootie, I tried to collect myself. Noticing the approaching exit sign for our subdivision, I blurted out. "No, I don't want to go home. I need to get to a bar. Take me to a bar... the closest one!" I demanded. "Okay, but..." "But WHAT? How hard is it to figure out? I need a God damn drink, Josh -- okay!" I emphasized, starring out into the dark nothingness. "It's like 1 o'clock. The bars are closed. Besides, I can't..." Josh reasoned. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You couldn't get in, even if they WERE open! DAMN IT!" Josh kept the car headed out of town, as we silently considered other options. After he suggested we could stop at a truck stop or rest area to talk, I offered no response. More miles peeled by, as I tried to shake the images clouding my head. "Well, I just hope you're not too upset with me. I sure didn't mean any harm," Josh repented, saying anything to get me to respond. "I'm not upset with you, Honey. I'm not one to shoot the messenger--just really need a nice stiff drink right about now, ya know," I sniffled. Josh & Jack don't mix +++++ Another mile marker later, Josh broke through the deafening silence. "If you promise not to get too pissed at me, maybe I could find you a drink." "What the hell does THAT mean? I mean okay, I promise I won't get pissed," I added in a restrained voice. Josh bent down and under the rider's side. Bringing out a small bottle from under the seat, he passed it back to me. "Ah, holding out on me huh?" "Remember, you won't get pissed -- right? And NO questions!" He added, as I unscrewed the cap. "Jack Daniels, Wow! Now that takes me back a few years," I quipped and gulped down a nice, long shot. "WHEW, good ole Jack still kicks ass! Thanks Sweetheart," I smiled into the rearview mirror and took another long dose. [It's kind of a nice revelation to find out your kid has taste, when it comes to his whiskey. Even if he's too young to... never mind.] "Hey take it easy there, Lady," Josh warned, as I downed yet another long stiff shot. Ignoring his cautions, I leaned back on the long warm leather seat and opened my trench coat. "God is it hot in here, or is it me?" I giggled and doffed my remaining bootie. "Man, that stuff will go straight to your brain. You better slow down a little." "Straight to my brain. Straight to the fat lady's brain; that's just where I need it--HA!" I think he was at first amused at seeing his Mom getting a little loopy. At first, that is. "Here, let's take a break for a while. How's that?" Josh said, reaching back to take the bottle. "Hey Sailor, you're too young for this stuff. So you just k-keep your hands to yourself." [only a slight slur]. "C'mon now, just a little break okay?" He pleaded. "A break huh? Okay, I'll make you deal. You get us off this road and all these stupid lights, and I'll give ya a sip." [Here I am trying to strike a drunkard's bargain with my own son.] "No bright lights, is THAT it?" He asked, pulling off the next exit. "Yeah, this fat ole lady needs a nice dark hole to crawl off to... or is it INto?" Pulling off on an outer road and then onto a dark service road to who-the-hell-knows where, he stopped, shifted into park, and turned around. "There ya go--nice and dark; now what's this nonsense about an old fat lady? I see no such person in THIS car!" His smile nearly melted me. "No fair! I know how you guys work," I winked and teased him with the bottle. "Us guys?" "Yeah, you're all alike. Get a girl drunk, steal her bottle of hooch, and then leave her in the ditch," taking another short swig. "Well it ain't gonna happen; not with this Mrs. Chubbybuns." Josh must have realized at this point that trying to reason with me could be impractical. Switching off the car, he got out and opened the back door. By this time I had discarded the trench coat and edged myself against the opposite door, keeping a firm grip on the whiskey. Josh slid into the backseat, took a long look and rolled his eyes. "C'mon now Mom and tell me what happened back there," he pleaded. "You mean back at the motel? Well, g-guess it was just another case of an unhappy married man getting his rocks off with some sweet young thing." A few tears and sniffles confirmed my accusation. "I'm sorry; should of never put you through that," Josh apologized and reassured me with a glancing touch on my knee. "Hey, it's not your fault. After the last three months I suspected something was going on. It's no real mystery. I mean how many guys want to have anything to do with an old, fat woman?" I opened up. "Okay, enough of this old and fat stuff. Good Lord you're not even 40 and the guys I know think you're in good shape," he said rubbing my knee. I capped the bottle and moved closer to face him. "Here look at this," I said, pulling my long ash blonde hair back. "See that--crow's feet!" I noted, forcing him to look at my eyes. "Come on Mom. A little makeup and no one can see that!" He smiled. "Okay, OKAY then; I'll show you 'fat'!" I added. Backing up in the seat, I squirmed out of my jeans and pulled up my gown. "See, you can't ignore THAT!" I yelled, holding the gown high enough to cover my face and head. No comment. Finally after more than a minute of exposing myself, I uncovered enough of my eyes to check his expression. His eyes were firmly locked on my bared chest. "Geez Josh, I don't mean those; I'm talking about THIS," I stated and pinched a bit more than a few inches around my tummy. "Incredible; simply incredible!" Was his robotic response. "Yes Dear, I know. I've never had a problem THERE," I said with an air of pride. Releasing my grip on the gown, I shut down my son's personal peep show. Shaking back to reality, his eyes shifted to meet mine. "Problem? I don't see a problem. Dad is just a frigging IDIOT!" "You don't get it do you? Here, now pay attention," I said. Hiking the gown up [just a little this time], I raised my pelvis and yanked down my cotton panties. "There, see the problem!" I asked, spreading my chunky thighs wide for his inspection. Judging from Josh's second failure to respond, I can only assume I was embarrassing him. "I'm sorry Honey. This must be really grossing you out. [GOD, what a sorry excuse for a mother.] Please forgive me," I shook my head and reached down for my jeans to cover up. As I leaned forward to conceal my strange behavior, I felt Josh's hand on my face. When he lifted my chin and motioned my face close to his the jeans fell from my grip. "Mom, can I be perfectly honest with you?" With eyes still ashamed to face him, I nodded. "There isn't a man alive that could resist you and your charms. Maybe we all see ourselves as less than desirable at certain times. Trust me on this; this is definitely NOT one of those times. You are undeniably beautiful and I believe in your heart you know it," he added and kissed my forehead. The fact that my 18-year-old son could conjure up such a caring and inspirational remark, and deliver it with such confidence, took my breath away. I virtually melted into his arms. Grabbing the scruff of his neck, I pulled him until his lips barely touched mine. "Tell me you love me," I whispered into his mouth. "You know I do," he whispered innocently. Our lips were poised mere microns from touching. Pulling my gown up with one hand, I prodded his hand to my chest. "Tell me," I urged and slid my hand down his chest to his lap. Incidental Indiscretions "I love you," He whispered not so innocently and grabbed a hold of my weighty boob. Prolonging a prelude to the inevitable would be futile. Opening my mouth wide, I forced my tongue inside and gave up any pretense. In my present state of inebriation Josh represented a man who desired me. Good ole Jack Daniels had twisted my brain back some twenty years to crazier times when sex was new, raw and free of alteration. It wasn't until our first passionate kiss subsided that I took note of just whom I was kissing. Running my fingers through his long blond locks our eyes locked. His immediate reaction to my assault was unexpected. I must have unlocked a latent desire, as he quickly returned my kiss with an even deeper one. The whole mother/son sinful thing flashed through my head like a warped afterthought. Our mutual desire kindled an unquenchable thirst for more and more of each other. Ripping off my gown with one hand, he buried his face between my jugs, while I scurried to unbuckle his jeans. Lying down on the leather seat, my arms reached out to beckon him to me. Our shared lust at that moment was suddenly a monstrous yet silent beast. Watching him tear away his jeans and shirt, the subdued reflective light from the snow-caked roads allowed him to see me fondling my boobs and fingering my wet pussy. Pulling down his boxers, I got my first look at his imposing hunk of manhood. My little boy had definitely grown up--and out! [must take after my side of the family] "Hmm, come to Momma," was all I could invoke, as I smiled up at him. Slowly lowering his long body over me, he inexplicably stopped in mid-flight. Supported by his strong arms, he suddenly froze. Tossing his head back, staring at the blank headliner, he must have had a come-to-Jesus moment. "We can't DO this," he hovered and shook his head while I reached to stroke his rock-hard nine-inch erection. "Oh God Josh! You can't stop NOW! Please Baby, just this once. I need..." I pleaded and firmed up my grip on his thick cock. "You need... you need WHAT? You need somebody, anybody to fuck you, right?" He started to fade. "Well, problem is; I'm not just ANYbody! Sorry, I can't do this," he sighed and leaned back to sort things out. He was slipping away from me and his timing couldn't be worse. All my addled brain could suspect was yet another rejection. "Look here now, it's like taking your date to the prom and not dancing!" I lamely tried to reason, as I scrambled up to implore him. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had a really good dance, do you!" I emphasized, pulling his face to mine. "I'm SORRY, okay! I thought I could... take you--oh, how easy it would be. Shit, I guess something snapped; must be all those morals you raised me with -- HA!" "Here Josh, Baby you just need a drink," I uncapped the Jack. Pushing the bottle away, he joked again, "Geez Mom, you think getting me wasted will make it all right? Even I'M smart enough to realize that won't do the trick." "DAMN IT JOSH! Now you're really trying to make me feel like a fat, sloppy sleazebag," I pouted, sensing I was about to give up the fight. "Oh please, don't start with THAT crap again," he replied, putting his shirt back on. "Okay, I'm sorry Baby. I really DO appreciate all of your help tonight," I switched my tone and stopped him from dressing. The Accidental Voyeur? +++++ "Well, that's better." "Can't you do me just one little favor? It's not much to ask and it won't take long," I batted my eyes and helped pull his shirt back down. "I think it would REALLY help... I mean to feel you next to me. Just for a moment or so," I begged with my best puppy-dog eyes. My son must have thought I was nuts, but when I promised not to do anything tricky. He relented. "Only for a few seconds, and that's it," he reminded me. "It's a deal," I smiled, leaned back and again spread my naked self before him. "You don't need these, do you?" I stated tugging at his boxers. "Oh, I think I DO, thank you," he said and leaned down to technically embrace me. Even in my semi-sober state I began to sense the elements, as he slid down on top of me. Almost at once his body warmth not only sheltered me from the cold night air, but (on a completely different level) sent a chill through me. He slowly nestled in close. The sinful pleasure of our nearly naked bodies touching was remarkable. Maybe that's all I needed. I sensed Josh was having similar sensations, until I felt his erection reform. Urging him to settle in deeper, my fingers pulled against his long muscular torso. Stroking his broad back and trim sides, I spread my legs. "Hmm, that's it Baby; now doesn't that feel better?" I whispered and felt his hardon against my mons. A few muffled grunts later, he relaxed enough to reach and pull aside a few locks of my hair. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" "No Baby; not in the slightest. Actually here, try and relax," I said, now able to wrap my legs around him. Wiggling my pelvis against his fully formed cock, I felt his boxers open, ever-so-slightly. I rocked the two of us just enough to gain an advantage and plied a diversion. "I am relaxed--well, most of me is... relaxed," he admitted, while I lifted his head to tease his lips with my tongue. "Guess I'd be a bit offended if you were TOTALLY relaxed, Josh," I smiled and licked his lower lip. "Hey, you didn't say anything about kissing," he stated making a pseudo frown. By this time, I had wiggled and maneuvered his manhood out through the barn door. Feeling the length of his exposed cock against me, I locked my legs at the ankles around his waist and raised my pelvis up and back toward me. With his thick man-muscle parting my well-lubricated slit, I pressed my pussy hard against him. It seemed so natural for him to start his engine as well. "I'm sorry. Guess if you don't like kissing, I shouldn't really force..." he stopped me in mid pout with a full-on, full-mouth osculation that took my breath away. Scraping my embedded nails slowly from the center of his back to the sides, I lost myself in his lust-filled kiss. Something had re-lit his fire and I was fairly certain of its source--between my thighs. Sustaining our kiss, he rose to his knees and slid the entire length of his perfect cock smack dab against my pussy. Tearing our mouths apart, I gasped for air. "That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to get you off, right?" He demanded. "Oh God, YES! J-Josh, don't stop Baby--d-don't SSTOP!" I screamed, as I felt my clit jockey from one side of his hot cock to the other. Shaking my head wildly, I reached down to help the process along. Rubbing and slapping my pussy between his long, fast strokes, I soon had myself on the verge of an orgasm. "Oh God, OH GODD!" I screamed, while my eyes frantically locked on his expression. Grabbing his hand, I forced it to my heaving chest, while the palm of my other hand forced his thick rod hard against my saturated lips. When he roughly took hold on one big melon and then the other I felt the damn burst. Not since my early dating days had I rode a dry-mounted fuck to completion. I suppose dry mount is probably stretching the meaning here. However "dry" by definition, what happened next was anything but dry. Unlocking my ankles, my hips and thighs slowly shuddered and jerked their way down his hips, as my splendid orgasm took its sweet time subsiding. Rubbing my blond bush to savor the afterglow, I still had my son's hand attached to my boob. Amid my own selfish desires I had somehow avoided my lover's needs. Still kneeling as in some suspended animation, he was obviously trying to counter and subdue his need to complete his own climax. It was all he could do NOT to take hold of his throbbing monster and finish the job. "Let me do it, Baby," I said taking his engorged cock in my hand. Without a response, he watched like an accidental voyeur as I gripped it harder and slowly jerked it back and forth. With my hand locked around his ultimate hardon, I got to my knees. Leaning back and forth to accentuate my hand job, I contemplated taking such a tempting meaty treat in my mouth. "Yeah Baby, just let it go. You make me feel SO good. Let me help, Darlin'" I pleaded. Using both hands on him, I leaned down to take it in my mouth. "NO... NO!" He yelled, grabbing my head with one hand and the end of his erection with the other. I could only surmise that the idea of his own mother sucking him off was too much to realize. "SH—iTT!" He roared, as stream after glorious stream of white gooey cum shot from his pecker like Chinese fireworks. I was at once in awe and proud, as my boy's thick canon unloaded another barrage, bathing my boobs in homemade mayonnaise. After squeezing out a few parting rounds he re-parked his power tool back in his boxers and made an unwelcomed apology. "You silly goose! This is one mess I LOVE cleaning up -- HA!" I grinned and scooped up a few fingers full of his cum to lick clean. "Here, I think we better head back," Josh said, handing me a small box of Kleenex from under the front seat. The brisk winter wind slapped at us like a frozen shovel, as we got dressed and climbed back in to front seat. Back-tracking our way to the interstate and then a short drive home, I leaned over to silent Josh. Lightly brushing his cheek, I remarked "Why Josh, if I didn't know you better, I would think you didn't enjoy yourself." Pulling into his allotted space to the side of the garage, he shut the Caddy off, turned toward me and gave me a cautious yet brilliant smile. Nothing more was said. Let's Get Physical +++++ The next few weeks drifted by with little dialog between Donny and myself, or Josh for that matter. The holidays came and went, again without mention of that particular night at the Family Inn. The only outward change in my hubby's behavior was his being home nights. I assumed he either found out about our spying on him, or MJ was too busy to bother with 40-year-old married men. Either way, I had already made up my mind to push myself kicking and screaming into self-improvement. I determined it was definitely time for me to shape up. Call it a New Year's resolution or too much back talking from the mirror; I was ready for an overhaul. After cutting out anything in my diet that slightly resembled food I liked, I blew the dust off of our trusty treadmill in the basement and invested in a few Jane Fonda workout VHS tapes. [Personally, I always considered Hanoi-Jane no more than some goofy un-American pretentious hack, but she did hit on something worthwhile with the whole new fitness rage.] It was closing in on March, when I finally noticed the dial on my bathroom scale had stopped bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. I was effectively holding the needle at 128 lbs. and decided to add light weight lifting to my regimen. By April, the leftover flab around my tummy, arms and thighs actually began to disappear. In reality, everything was becoming toned and tight. That's when I knew I was positively on the right track. Needless to say, I felt fantastic with each workout. My predetermined goals changed weekly, until I was maintaining 125 lbs. with about 8% body fat. No longer a chunky middle-aged frump, I delighted in my new sexy self and even took to laughing back at the mirror. The memory of witnessing my husband and our neighbor doing the nasty with MJ, the young amazon slut, still hung in my brain like a wart that wouldn't go away. However, with my readjusted attitude and self-confidence, I didn't dwell on such things. I was too busy picking out new clothes, getting my hair styled, treating myself to frequent sun bathing and relishing the latest cat calls. [One particular construction site on 12th Street became my favorite promenade--mostly younger studs with louder-than-average whistles.] There Goes the Neighborhood +++++ I referred to our neighbor, Kenny earlier (actually his hairy ass). He was the third musketeer on duty that night at the Family Inn with dear 'ole Donny and MJ, the 25-year-old glamazon. Kenny is actually married to Marjorie "Marge" and they have a son, George, affectionately referred to as "Porgy or Porge" [I'll explain later]. Not merely our neighbors, Kenny also worked with my hubby, Donny in home remodeling. Low-achiever, pudgy Kenny's sole claim to fame is that he married Marge. She is a gregarious bundle of riddles. A short, trim brunette who over-dresses for most any occasion, drowns herself in cheap perfume and dime-store jewelry, and boasts a vast knowledge of virtually every tabloid magazine. She could best be described as a poor man's socialite. I spent a fair amount of time with Marge, but still knew very little about what makes her tick. Since the parts that I was aware of are frequently laced with huge doses of impropriety, conjecture and just plain gossip, it's probably just as well. I learned long ago that gossips are not good people to share secrets. As ambivalent as he is and as gushing as she is; Kenny and Marge are our neighbors and, except for Kenny's hairy ass, are comparatively attractive. Their son, George "Porgy", Josh's age is a living doll. The kind of cuddly teddy bear you just want to smother with kisses. Only a bit taller than me, at 5' 6" he carries just enough weight to be considered solid. One can easily see with those deep-set dark eyes and sandy hair, he's destined to be a lady killer. [Of course I often fantasized about volunteering to be his first victim.] In retrospect, it was likely a poor idea to share any of the events that transpired at the Family Inn with Marge. She must have caught me in a weak moment when I admitted observing my hubby's infidelity. I was discreet enough NOT to mention her husband was also part of the three-ring circus. What seemed to equally tantalize her lust for scandal was my account of Josh's part in the sordid episode. Although I refrained from sharing any juicy details I could tell from her wide-eyed expression, the idea of my son having the hots for an older woman appealed to a devious tendency I hadn't noticed earlier. After shrugging off my concerns about Donny and MJ as middle-aged crisis-crap, she was much more intent on knowing about Josh. "So Barb, do you think he has a thing for mature women, or just for you? No, of course, all boys have crushes on attractive, experienced women," she was prone to answering her own assumptions. I was once again rendered speechless, as she prattled on about how... "He just needs to be exposed to the right woman; in the right circumstance; it's all about timing..." she was no doubt concocting a scenario with herself playing the role of seductress. I chalked up the conversation as pointless, and had to giggle a little at the idea of Josh having anything to do with crazy Marge. Pole Position +++++ That May was a special month for high school seniors. It meant: senior prom, final exams, graduation, summer break, and preparing for college--a busy time for sure. Amid all the hoopla and hubbub some kids found themselves suffering from separation anxiety. It was most notable with Josh and his two close friends, Porge and Lurch. Each boy enrolled in a different college, so a parting of ways was inevitable. Being studs-in-training, the macho thing was not to discuss or outwardly show how their eventual separation would affect their relationship. Instead they had become inseparable, with each one knowing exactly where the other two were at all times--and this was before the proliferation of cell phones. For years the boys used our place as one of their preferred hangouts--actually our walkout basement to be specific. Donny had splurged a few years back and purchased a full-size arcade game, a pool table, along with weightlifting and exercise equipment. "If they're gonna hang out here, they might as well entertain themselves in the process," his exact words. In reality, I always thought that was a sorry excuse to get more boy toys for him. However, this was one time when he was right. Unless we had company over, the boys were the only ones making use of the stuff. At least until I started exercising and weightlifting. Over the years we added a long couch, a television and a few chairs, so the area finally resembled an actual rec room. The boys seemed to love it and it was a mixed blessing having them around. There was one particular Friday that May that holds a special memory for me. I had just arrived home from work. After collecting the mail, I found a pair of notes on the kitchen counter. Meg had gone off to "hang" with her girl friends at the mall and was going to a movie, while Donny noted that he would be working late. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief at not having to make dinner, I peeled off my light suit jacket. In hopes of playing up to my boss for a raise, I'd been dressing to the nines lately. Unzipping my short skirt at the hip, I glanced outside to see Porge coming up the backyard walk--alone. Seeing the boys in my backyard was nothing out of the ordinary. The fact that he was flying solo was news. I suspended the normal response of zipping up and making myself respectable. Porge was my personal favorite, when it came to teasing, prodding and issuing sexy double entendres. This seemed like the perfect time to have some fun with him. Leaving the zipper down, I pulled my white satin blouse out and quickly unbuttoned. Grabbing the mail to use as a prop, I strode across the kitchen tile to open the door. "Hey Porge, how's it hangin'?" I welcomed him, seemingly engrossed in the mail. "Oh Hi Mrs. B; you surprised me!" He answered, as I swung the door open. Letting my focus shift from the junk mail up to his eyes and back down again, his double-take on my open blouse was substantial. For once he was struck speechless. My white lace Victoria Secret uplift bra was clearly visible and his young wide eyes drank in each full cup. "Uh, hanging just fine and how are you hang..." He stopped short of repeating his normal return line. "Hmm; cat got your tongue, Porge?" I smiled, before feigning to be amazed at my exposed attributes. "Oops, sorry about that; just trying to get a raise from my cheap-ass boss. I don't think it's working," I said clamping the lapels together. "The guy must be a fool. If I were him..." Porge thought. "Yes?" "Actually Missus B, I don't think I've seen you looking more... beautiful!" He said, quickly shifting his gaze from my chest to my eyes. Reacting to Porgy's over-complimentary appraisal, "Why Porge, how very Eddie Haskell of you," I laughed. "Let's just say, you sure enough got a rise from me," he nervously shifted in his tight basketball shorts. [Yep, in '88, guys' basketball shorts were truly shorts--not knee-length skirts.] I tossed my Linda Evans [from TV's Dynasty fame]-ratted ash blonde locks to one side and laughed, "I said RAISE silly, but thanks for the compliment." His face turned a shade redder, as my hand brushed over his package in passing. Stopping at the counter, I turned toward him and leaned down to rest my elbows. "So where's the other two musketeers; on a mission to deflower some unsuspecting damsel, I'm sure." Seating himself at one of our large bar stools, Porge attempted conversation. In spite of the two nearly over-flowing goblets taunting him, he gave it a try. "Well Lurch, I mean Larry had to work on his Cougar; said he'd catch up with us later. And J-Man (Josh) is busy..." "Josh is busy? Busy with what?" I asked, balancing my heel to and fro in three-inch pumps. "To be honest Mrs. B, I'm not sure," he said, casually rotating on the stool. "C'mon Porge, you must have a good idea. You guys know when each of you took your last dump--for God's sake!" I rolled my eyes and unbuttoned the cuffs on my blouse. In undoing the cuffs, I "accidentally" shoved a letter off the counter. Turning my ass toward Porge, I leaned down to the floor to pick it up. Hearing a distinctive clearing of the throat told me he appreciated my rear view as well. Incidental Indiscretions "Okay, but I'm not sure, I think he might be helping my mom with something," he said, with a concealing tone. I gave him a raised eyebrow and waited. One has to be patient with eighteen-year-old boys. Finally he took a big inhale and finished his conclusion. "See, the old man bought this new 35mm camera. She (Marge) knows that J-Man is into photography and stuff, and so I heard her ask him to help her figure out how to work it. I guess the old man said it was busted and she thought Josh could look at it for her." "Hmm, sounds innocent enough to me, how about you?" I asked rhetorically. "Me? What the heck do I know about... anything?" He sounded a bit reticent about being left out of the loop. "Gosh Porge, don't feel dejected. I was just going to work out, if you wanna join me?" I asked. "Ah nah, but maybe I could wait downstairs, play some pole or something," he decided. "Pole?" I asked "Pole Position...the game, ya know." "Oh sure, I'll be down in a jiffy to work out," I answered, recalling how the boys like to play Pole Position. Porge left for the basement, while I finished undressing and dressed for the treadmill. Pulling up a pair of tiny grey sweat short-shorts, I opted not to wear my usual sports bra. Instead I shoved my melons into a skin-tight deep-cut tank top. A pair of white ankle socks, head band and tennies, and I was ready. Touching up my big hair and makeup [one must look their best when exercising.] I grabbed one of Donny's long white starched shirts for a cover up. I rolled up the too-long cuffs and tied the tails around my midriff. [Not abs of steel quite yet, but definitely tanned and toned.] Before heading to the treadmill I decided to give Marge a quick call and check on Josh. "Oh yeah Barb, he's over here working on this stupid camera. Apparently we hadn't checked this one thingy; it works fine now. I'm trying to talk him into taking me to the park to take some shots. Did you know he broke up with his girl friend? This might be a real good time to... you don't mind if I hit on your son, do you?" She laughed. "Huh? I don't think..." She stopped me and halfway assured me that was not her true intention. I knew enough about Marge not to completely believe anything she said. Neither Josh nor I had discussed anything except graduation-related stuff since that wild December night. I was concerned to hear he and his girlfriend had parted ways without mentioning it to me, but I suppose it's time for him to handle his own affairs. Filing that one away for another time, I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and headed for the basement. I was about midway down the stairs when I caught sight of Porge playing the arcade game, Pole Position. [Current gamers might recognize the name, but not realize it was first an arcade game in the early '80's]. Those unfamiliar with it should know it's a fairly simple game, where the driver is confronted with several racing courses that he/she had to maneuver as fast as possible without wrecking. The boys played it for hours on end. After several months, all of them could easily kick its ass. So, to make it more competitive they added diversions. I spied one particular "diversion" when cleaning the basement last year. Pulling the game from against the wall, I discovered three girly magazines... Playboy, Penthouse, and Gent. It wasn't until I eavesdropped later that I found one of the guys playing/driving while the others taunted him with a centerfold from one of the mags. The diverter would hold up the picture in front of them and say the nastiest things, trying to avert or otherwise distract the driver to the point where he ultimately laughed himself into the ditch. It was entertaining, watching how they feigned female voices and made the crudest gestures to achieve the diversions. The game was also popular with females, since it didn't involve blowing up something or killing somebody. I actually got pretty good at it, in my spare time. However, since such games were considered a guy-thing, I never let on that I could even play it. [Any degree of hand/eye coordination in women should be reserved for knitting or some shit -- RIGHT!] Anyway, there Porge was with his tight little ass in those short-shorts bumping and grinding against the arcade for every last bonus point. Coming up from behind him, I planted my hands firmly on his swaying hips. Ignoring me, Porge continued his assault on the digital race track. I leaned in close to his ear. "Hey, you're pretty good at this; I had no idea..." I whispered. "Oh well, ya know, we play it a lot," was his delayed response. Holding his focus on the track, I tried a more loaded observation. "Awfully good at those curves, aren't you?" I asked rhetorically, as he downshifted to blast through another hairpin turn. "WELL, guess I'd better get on my horse. I'm just being a distraction for you," I surmised, judging from his lack of response. "No, I mean you don't distract me." Flooring the accelerator, he added, "What were you saying about a horse?" After a series of long leg and arm stretches I stepped up on the treadmill. Flipping the key, I punched in my program and was off and jogging. The noisy motor drowned out any other sounds within a 20-foot radius, so I was surprised with a tap on my shoulder. "Just wanted to let you know, you weren't distracting me," he mouthed. I shook my head and shrugged. "DISTRACTING ME!" He yelled like I was deaf. Pulling back my long hair, I removed two earplugs. "What's that Porge?" "Sorry, I just meant you weren't dis-TRACTING!" His voice still surged, as I powered down the treadmill. "Gosh Porge, I heard ya the second time!" I said, climbing off the horse. "What is it anyway? Do you need a distraction, is that it? Because, when it comes to distractions, I'm your girl!" I winked. Red-faced again, Porge's eyes scanned my white shirt, before rewording his point. "No, no you've got me all wrong. It's like sometimes when we play the game, we do different things to throw each other off, ya know." He nodded for me to accept his interpretation. "And, you would call these things you do distractions--right?" I asked, as I sauntered to the rear of the arcade. "Yeah, we call them distractions... you know like making faces, funny voices... stuff like that." "And these... what would you call these?" I smiled holding up a recent copy of Playboy. "Uh." "Hmm, I would think THIS would surely be considered a distraction," I said, paging through the contents. Stopping at the centerfold, I unfolded a perfectly air-brushed blond-haired honey and held it up in front of me. "Aren't I a suitable distraction, kind Sir?" I said in my best air-headed bimbo voice. "UH." "Now Porge, that's simply not an acceptable comeback. Maybe blondes don't trip your trigger. Is that it?" I said, tossing that magazine to the floor. Flipping through Penthouse, I found a dark-headed brunette with similar attributes. Unfolding the centerfold like before, I held it high and feigned a dark smoky voice. "What about me Dahling, can't I be your favorite distraction, hmm?" Lowering the centerfold to just below my eyes, I watched his embarrassment turn into amusement. [You too-cute Koala bear, I could force feed you my pussy in a heartbeat!] "Hey, you do that pretty good, Missus B," he said with an emerging smile that lit up his entire face. "But how do YOU know about...THAT?" "Don't you know by now Porge; mothers know EVERYthing!" I remarked from the other side of the centerfold. "And you're not upset?" "Oh hell no, I think it's funny. I'm just glad you boys like to play with paper dolls, as opposed to having real ones over here... saying some of those naughty things you guys come up with." "Well it IS interesting to hear an actual feminine voice coming from the pictures," Porge added, glancing down below the centerfold. "You think?" "Especially one with legs like yours--sorry." "No need to apologize Porgy. I should be so lucky to have legs like this one," I said turning the magazine to observe her gams and then mine. "In fact your legs work even better with the blonde," Porge further noted. "See, I KNEW you were into blondes," I said, tossing the brunette to the floor in favor of the top-heavy blonde. "Say, whatever happened to that little Cindy Lou Who? She always looked like she'd be good girly magazine material." "Oh Cindy Lewis... she's history. Besides she'd never pose or even qualify to be in one of those," he said, adjusting the standing centerfold's legs to match up where mine were. "See, you're nearly a perfect match -- WOW!" Craning my head to see what he saw, I caught him adjusting his package. "Not qualified, how so?" "No tits, oops I mean she's not very... endowed, shall we say." Porge stated in a more relaxed tone. "Ah, I see. Well, that could be a problem." "Not a problem for some women," he said with a wink. "Why Porge, are you intimating that I have big tits?" I asked with a smidge of scolding in my voice. "Hey, I never said that, Mrs. B! I would NEVER be so rude," the boy backed off, as I lowered the centerfold. "Hmm, maybe you'd better go back to your game," I urged and bent down to collect the magazines. Returning them to their hideout, I suddenly felt a silent sexual tension settling in. "Geez, I'm sorry Mrs. B., I never meant to make you upset. Please forgive me?" Porge put his hand to my shoulder to show his concern. He had broken the invisible barrier. That barrier between an attractive older woman and a vital young man dissolved like curtain of sand. Letting his hand keep me from moving any further, I stopped and turned to face him. "Porgy, do you know how you got your nickname?" I asked, completely changing the subject. His hand slid down my arm. "I don't know. I'd always figured it was from that comedy group, the Firesign Theatre that Lurch listens to all the time. That record they made about Porgy Tirebiter... he's a student like you," he sang. "Uh actually no. It's not nearly as complicated. Boy, that Lurch is a real stoner, isn't he?" "Yep, 'fraid so," Porge nodded, letting his hand drop to his side. I replaced his hand with mine on his shoulder. "Remember the old nursery rhyme... "Georgy Porgy, puddin' and pie?" I asked leaning in close. "Oh yeah..."kissed the girls and made them cry"--right?" he finished the refrain. "You were so damn cute when we first met you, I just couldn't help myself. That's when everybody started referring to you as Porgy," I said pulling him close to whisper. "Hmm, I had no idea," he returned with a whisper. "Only problem is... being 14 years old, you had no desire what-so-ever in kissing girls." "Thank God that didn't last long. I've kissed plenty of girls since then," he smiled proudly. "And made them cry?" I asked, lightly licking his earlobe. "Gosh, I don't think... I never meant to...," I felt his knees buckle just a bit, as my hand lowered down to rest in the small of his back. "There's one girl you've never kissed, Porge. Are you afraid I might cry, hmm?" I said, shifting my face to lip-lock with him. "I-I'm not in the habit of kissing married girls," his lips formed the words brushing against my lips as he murmured. "Why not let me worry about that." I said and finally raised my painted eyes to meet his. The anxious silence that followed was overwhelming. I knew on some level he wanted me, but being suddenly confused with his allegiance to my son and respect for whatever hubby and I had was too heavy a consequence. [This was surely a Jack Daniels moment, and I wasn't holding.] Leaning back to better visualize his perplexed expression, I patted his chest, smiled reluctantly, and turned around to remount the treadmill. The deep exhaled sigh at my backside was tangible. Turning the key, I resumed my program, as Porge gripped the game's steering wheel and reached for the gear shift. I curiously watched as he blankly froze at the qualifying screen. After a good five minutes, I knew a myriad of contradictions must be rolling around in his teenage brain. Suddenly his hands dropped from the wheel and gear shift. Pulling his foot off the accelerator, he turned and moved toward me. He had made a decision. "Can I ask you a question, Barb?" He stood, hands on hips, directly in front of me. "I... I suppose," I started not knowing what to expect. He no longer referred to me as Mrs. B. and I reckoned from his dominant behavior, I'd better shut down the horse and give him my complete attention. "Have you ever played that game?" He asked with all sincerity. "That game?" "Yes, 'Pole Position', have you ever actually played it?" "No, I just watch you guys, you know," I lied. "I know, and you probably think we're just wasting our time, when we could be exercising and getting into great shape like you." "Well..." "Well nothing. I think it's time YOU played it. You need to see what it feels like. Come on over here now," Porge demanded, pointing his finger to the exact spot. "Okay, whatever you say. I will give it a shot." I smiled to be included in their man games. "You WILL be patient with me, won't you? I'm just a girl, you know," I said, rolling up my sleeves. "Just grab the wheel with your left hand. Grab the gear shift with your right and step on the gas." "Okay, here goes nothing," I said and promptly drove off the digital road. "Shit, I mean SHUTE! You may have to show me how to steer this dumb thing," I added, batting an eyelid or two. "Here, the least I can do is get you on the road, I guess," Porge said. I rested my hand on his, before speed-shifting and gassing the pedal. "No, not like that," he warned and put my other hand on the gear shift. "Now slowly give it some gas." Feeling his torso against my back, I stepped on the pedal. He kept us on the road, as I fed it more gas. After steering us through several turns and curves, I acted like maybe I could get the hang of it. He eased off and let me handle things myself. Soon I was keeping my car on the road and speeding up on straight-aways. [Gosh, what a great teacher he was -- HA!] He applauded my every shift and turn like I was his prized pupil. "Are you sure you've never played this before?" He asked, as I maneuvered the pixilated car through another rough turn. "No, it's my first time; you must be a great teacher! This is FUN... and kind of exciting," I added, lying my ass off. "Really? Yeah, I guess the first time can be exciting," he agreed and perhaps amused by the innuendo. "Gosh yes, my heart is pounding! Here, feel it," I said, pulling his hand from behind me. I placed his hand on my left boob, and quickly reached for the gear shift. "There, can you feel it?" "Ah yeah, I see what you mean," he said, barely touching me. Shifting back into third gear, I returned my fingers to undo two buttons on my white shirt. "Here Silly, you can't feel anything; give me your hand," I said and forced his hand inside my shirt, neatly resting it under my weighty boob. "THERE, can you feel it now? It's beating like crazy." "Oh YEAH, it IS thumpin' for sure!" He exclaimed, letting his fingers nestle under my weighty boob for a nice long feel. "Watch out, think you can handle this big turn?" He warned and let his hand slide up to cup my d-sized melon. Running his fingers over my hard nipple, I let him keep fondling me, while I executed the turn. "I think the real question is can YOU handle it?" I leaned back into his chest. "God it's getting hot in here! Aren't you hot?" He asked, as his hand slowly retreated from under my shirt. "Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing." Keeping my focus on the road, I remarked, "The damn A/C in this house is terrible, ya know. Feel free to take off your shirt if you want. It won't bother me," I nonchalantly added, as I undid hubby's dress shirt and tossed it to the couch. Tugging the elastic on my tight tube top did little to fix a slight boob sagging, but I never expected it to. "I might just take you up on that. It DOES get hot in here," Porge said crossing his arms to lift and pull off his t-shirt. "You know I'm sorry about coming on to you before. You know I was just playing with you Porge, don't you?" I said, passing a few digital cars. "Oh yeah, Mrs. B. I knew you were fooling with me..." I heard him answer, as he casually tossed his t-shirt on the couch. "Whew! It IS friggin' hot down here!" I said, sliding through another oil slick. "Here, it's your turn. I'm gonna check that damn thermostat," I stated and moved away from the game. Taking a nice long gander at the boy's delightfully compact V-frame, perfectly formed six-pack abs, and muscular thighs, I let out an audible sigh. He began playing the game, as I went upstairs to check the thermostat. [At least that was my excuse.] Instead, I changed from the tank top. Guessing my white, deep cut halter top would be more appealing for the task at hand; I also retouched my makeup and returned to the basement. "The thermostat seems to be working okay. Must just be really hot outside. Hope you don't mind me changing?" I asked. Porge gave me a noticeable double-take before continuing his game. "Sure, that looks cooler," he agreed, as I liberally displayed my curves by reaching up to adjust my headband. Standing across from him, maybe a foot or two, in the designated diversion area, I offered him a cool drink. His double-take soon changed to a triple-take at seeing my large half-moons prominently aching to bust through the halter top. "I thought you said I wasn't a distraction," I laughed, shaking my boobs ever-so-gently. "Okay, okay, that may have been a premature statement," he admitted. "Two iced-cold waters to cool us down, how's that?" I smiled and handed him one of the glasses. [Hope that's the only thing he's premature about.] "So, do ya think you can make it past qualifying?" He asked, taking a long swig. "Oh, I think so... with your help," I sublimated, lowering my face, yet returning an upward glance and batting an eye. "Sounds like a deal to me," he shot me that damn sexy smile of his again. I stepped in to take my spot behind the wheel and felt his bare chest press against my mostly bare back. Revving the gas, I grabbed the wheel and felt the distinct signs of his emerging hardon against my ass. "Now I know why they call it Pole Position, or is that supposed to be MY distraction?" I whispered, leaning back to one side of his face. "You're the damn distraction," he whispered and slid his young cock up and down my crack. "God, you smell good, Mrs. B." "I taste even better. And I like it when you called me Barb," I said, raising my bare shoulder to his face. Puddin' & Pie +++++ He boldly started peppering my shoulder with tiny temping kisses. Moving my ratted hair aside, his kisses soon beat a path up my neck. Leaning my head back against his shoulder, I sensed his breath in my ear; then his tongue. My knees promptly buckled, as his tongue stabbed inside. Reaching behind to tug at his shorts, a severe case of the moans took over. He grabbed both of my slender wrists in one hand and held them behind me, while he continued to French-kiss my ear. "You DO taste even better," he whispered and swiveled me around on the heels of my sneakers. "I need more," he uttered and suddenly opened and forced his mouth on mine. My moans grew intense as his swift, agile tongue swam inside my mouth. Running my hands up his broad tight shoulders I let the kiss envelope me. Jerking my head back to catch my breath, I pushed to keep him at arm's length. "Damn Porge, you are one HELL of a kisser!" I exclaimed, as his hot hands slid down my back. "You have NO idea how long I wanted to kiss you... like that!" He said, pulling me close for more. Rolling my head to one side, his lips and tongue went to work on my neck and chest. "I think I've always loved..." Incidental Indiscretions "NO! STOP!" I shrieked and scrambled to shove him away. Turning my back to him, I folded my arms defiantly. "What? What did I SAY?" Glancing back at him over my shoulder, I issued a caveat. "Porge, you know I've always LIKED you and well, even been pretty attracted to you. Hell, we might even mess around if you want..." "Oh Yeah--I WANT!" He piped up. "Yeah well, nothing will EVER happen, if you continue to use words like that!" I scolded. I felt that naked chest of his against my back and his hands surrounding my middle. "Oh, you mean the 'L' word? I think I can agree to that," he confirmed and returned to more shoulder nibbling. "Good--now maybe we can have a fun time," I said, twirling around to face him. "Maybe?" He asked, as I threw my arms around his neck. "Hmm, that depends," I led him playfully. "Okay, depends on what?" He asked, brushing back my hair to take another lick at my ear. Running my hands inside and around the waistband of his tight silky shorts, I whispered. "Just how good a kisser are you... in different... areas?" Taking my cue, he hesitantly slid his fingers inside my loose gray workout sweats. "You mean like on a couch or say a pool table?" He innocently missed my meaning. "Sure, let's see how you kiss on say that couch," I cajoled, took his hand and led him to the couch. With the couch behind me I motioned him to stand while I sat on the edge. His lovely young hardon stood at full attention even inside his shorts. I thought for sure it would pop the top at any moment. "No Porge, let me try something first. Okay?" I asked politely, before running my hands up and down on both sides of his erect pole. "Okay," he answered, nearly shuttering at my touch. Nervously trying to find something to do with his hands, he tried to relax. I slowly pulled his shorts down. Pulling them down further over his tanned, well-toned stocky, hairy legs, I went immediately back to do the same with his white jockey shorts. "Oh my, what a nice surprise Porge! You've been holdin' out on me, you devil you," I admonished him, before taking hold of his 8-inch boner. [Being the same size as my hubby -- he offered a perfect cock for deep-throating.] "I certainly never expected such a big beautiful cock," I smiled up at him, as I slowly but deliberately stroked. His young eyes rolled in anticipation, as I fisted his hard, smooth erection faster and faster. Once I felt his wet precum from the tip of his finely cut cockhead, I stopped. "Here, hold on to this a second. I want your opinion about something," I smiled and brought his hand to replace mine. A look of suspended amazement swept across his face, as he took hold of his weeping hardon. "You need MY opinion about anything? Are you serious? I mean, Barb... I'm standing here about to explode!" He exclaimed, as I quickly undid and discarded the white halter top. "Holy SHIT!" He further exclaimed, as I kicked off my tennis shoes and rolled back on the couch. Keeping my tanned legs together, I folded them back to my face, to grab hold of my gray shorts. "Sure, I don't get many chances for a male perspective.... well, at least not lately," I mused and slowly shimmied out of my shorts. Locking my legs, I firmly grasped my tight calves and pulled them to one side of my head. Now Porge had a nice unobstructed view of my ass, thighs and pouty slit. "You know, twenty-five pounds ago I could have never attempted this," I casually chuckled, as my son's best friend got a tempting eyeful. Frozen in his tracks with a firm grip on his ready honker, his slack-jawed expression was priceless. "Well, what do you think, Porge?" "Incredible... simply incredible!" He numbly answered, as his eyes locked on my pouty pussy. Still holding tight to my calves with one hand, I slid a few fingers from my other hand to spread my lips. "You were saying something about pool tables and couches. Actually, I thought we might get more intimate than that." "Yes Ma'am!" "Why don't you try these out for size, hmm?" I suggested, parting my lower lips with two fingers to insert a third finger. Releasing the vise grip hold on his reddening tool, he lowered on all fours and was licking my thighs in a heartbeat. Taking a few, long tantalizing swipes at my pussy with his tongue, he inched his hands between my thighs. "Do I taste good, Baby?" I asked, spreading my legs fully apart. "Oh God yes! Umm, you taste incredible!" he quickly replied, between muff dives. If I had any reservations about his youth and inexperience, they were pleasantly unfounded. The boy was a true pussy connoisseur. When merely licking my slit brought tiny moans; lapping and penetrating my hole with his tongue had me cooing with an occasional shriek; full-mouth sucking with deep fingering simply floored my senses. When he gently hoisted my ass cheeks with both hands to revel in the feast I completely lost it. Sucking my entire clit in his mouth, my outstretched legs shook uncontrollably until they fell neatly on either side of his head. "OH GODDD! That's IT!" I gritted through clenched teeth as my orgasm suddenly speed-shifted from first to third gear. "Don't stop... OH GOD, Porge--don't stop!" I demanded, as the suction coupled with his probing fingers to drive me totally bonkers. Any brief lull in aggression was probably due to catching his breath, before shamelessly re-attacking my pussy. "HOLY SHIT...CHRIST! OH GOD, YES!" I screamed from the top of my roller-coasting orgasm all the way down and back up again. Grabbing hold of his head, I tried in vain to gain some control over the next surge. Already gushing from three major climaxes, I quivered as he used two hands to penetrate me with a flurry of fingers. Now I was coming and riding his face for all I was worth. The roller-coaster had evened out into one, long, unyielding seismic ride, leaving me thrashing, growling; yet begging for more and more. After several long minutes of ultimate passion, I slowed to regain some sort of normal breathing. "Wow Barb, you are ONE SEXY fuc—WOMAN!" "It's okay Porge, you can s-say fucking," I smiled at the tender young face peering through my thighs. "Okay, I WILL! You are ONE SEXY FUCKING WOMAN." He returned a smile of his own, before letting my legs slide over each shoulder and down his arms. "But what about you? Now that you've kissed THIS girl and definitely made her cry, isn't there something she could do... for you?" I grinned and gathered myself back up to a sitting position. Rolling his eyes and brushing back lines of perspiration from his brow, he shot me the tiniest of winks. Running both hands up under my hair, I ripped off the headband. Snaking my fingers down my face and neck, I proceeded down my chest to lightly prop up my tanned melons as an offering. "Perhaps these might help you decide," I eyed him rhetorically. "OH YE-AH! You must be reading my mind! They-they're fucking beautiful!" He exclaimed with pupils fully dilated. "So, you approve?" I asked, proudly thrusting my chest forward before generously shaking my full, round, meaty mounds. "Approve isn't the word! I mean, you know there are guys that would pay big money just for a look at one of those! "Honored" that's the only word I can think of." "Oh yeah, which guys? HA!" "WOW!" His one-word exclamation followed by a generous sigh was all the positive feedback required. "So, you just gonna stare at them all day, or wh..." I started, when he interrupted. Like a lapdog leaping at a bowl of fresh gravy, his mouth quickly attached itself to first one of my boulders--then the other. As he leaned in to further consume my tits, I reached to grab hold of his rigid boner. I slowly but deliberately jacked it long and hard until his breathing became sporadic. Once again feeling a thin glaze of precum on his smooth pecker head, I knew there would be no holding back this time. Young Porgy came up for air and shyly posed a familiar request. Climbing to his feet, I moved to the edge of the couch. Gazing up past his hand-held hardon, I fixed my eyes on his, as my hands cupped and spread my succulent globes. Once he slid his sturdy, eight-inch manhood between my tits, I pushed them tight to secure for fucking. Within seconds he was tit-fucking me with a vengeance. Within a minute or so, he was ready to blow. Young guys [God love 'em] have such short fuses. I hardly had time to emote the essential "oohs and aahs" before he unloaded a healthy dose of white guy gravy in boob valley. "God Barb, I-I'm sorry... didn't mean to make a mess," he apologized. "Here, let me get something..." I stopped him and grabbed his forearm. Keeping him at arm's length, I made him watch my third finger scoop up an ample glob of fresh jism for a taste test. "Umm, good! Got any more where that came from?" I asked rhetorically. Taking hold of his fading erection, I gave it a few hard tugs before quickly taking it in my mouth for the first time. Sucking, stroking and taking his semi-hard cock completely inside, I continued the process. "Oh, God DAMN!" He declared. His eyes rolled back, as I deep-throated more of his returning erection. A chorus of expletives followed as his weapon jutted to full strength. With no further need to hand-hold his energized pole, I reached around to firmly grip that most perfect young ass. Letting my fingernails scrape and dig into his dimpled cheeks, I relaxed enough to take hold of Sir Rigid with my throat muscles. Considering it payback for taking me to Orgasmland, I rewarded his cock with my personalized version. "I NEVER! I CAN'T....HOLY SHIT, DON'T EVER STOP! GOD DAMN!" Porge nearly screamed, as my throat treated his cockhead to a guided tour of Climax City. Once I sensed his meat starting to throb, I slid my finger just inside his asshole, while my other hand swept around to fondle his balls. Grabbing my ratted locks tight with both hands, he thrust his pelvis forward again and again, until the momentum shoved me off the couch. A sudden gush of warmth filled my throat, while his cock powered deeper. Holding on for dear life, his pelvis shook like crazy. I gagged hard when his cock spewed forth a larger, unexpected volley. Jerking my head back, I was surprised by yet another full gush of cum. I think that one amazed both of us, as it shot from East to West across my face. "DAMN, where'd THAT come from?" Porge noted, as his still-hard cock continued to drip. "My my Porge, I'd say you have amazing hidden resources!" I laughed, wiped and tasted the extra cum from my cheeks and around my lips. "If I thought you had any more, I'd say maybe you ought to fuck me," I noted in passing. "Hey, I'll make more! Look, I'm ready if you are!" He stated, not in the form of a question. I got up from the floor to head for the bathroom, when he grabbed my wrist. "Porge, what is it? I really should..." I began, when he suddenly turned into a horny octopus. Arms, hands, and his tongue were all over me. Somehow he twisted me around until his perpendicular appendage was wedged tight in my ass crack. "C'mon Baby, I wanna fuck that sweet pussy of yours, SO bad," he whispered and grabbed hold of my jugs from behind. "You're sure about this?" I returned, grasping his hand to tighten his grip. "OH YEAH! I won't tell if you won't," he said. I took his hand from mine and turned him to sit on the couch. Kneeling down with a knee on either side of him I lowered myself to accept his ready weapon. Parting my lips I eased down on it. "There now; does that feel good?" I asked, while his young pole filled my mature hole. "God YES! It feels fanTAStic!" "In case you wondered, it feels good to me too," I cooed, rolling my pelvis back and forth. Taking hold of my jugs in both hands, his tongue took an equal turn at each nipple. "Suck 'em hard, Porge. Yeah, like that!" I urged him, as I started riding his cock harder and faster. "Damn, I love your fucking boobs!" He said, between sucks. I stopped in mid-fuck and pulled back. "What? What'd I say?" He asked, realizing he'd done something in error. Going back over his previous statement, his eyes locked on mine. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I promise!" He begged, upon discovering he had inadvertently used the only four-letter "L" word I would not tolerate. "That's better," I accepted his apology. "Now, let's try something different, shall we?" I said and climbed off his lap. "Okay, I guess...whatever you say?" He watched as I got up, spun around, and spread my legs to have him dick me from behind. "I need you to fuck me hard, Baby," I admonished, and came down roughly on his cock. "Hey, no problem!" Porge kept repeating "no problem" as I slammed myself harder and faster into his crotch. Grabbing my hefty hangers for leverage, I must admit he gave it his best. We must have hard-fucked like this for over ten minutes or so, when I noticed an imposing shadow at the windowed door of our walk-out. I dare not slip a stroke, as I leaned a bit from side to side for a better look at our eavesdropper. I recognized it was definitely a male but not my hubby and too tall to be my son. The stranger seemed comfortable enough, standing and blocking the window's glare to gain a better view. Even as it became clearer who the intruder was, I opted not to share it with Porge. Besides the fact that my little fuck-buddy was busy building up to another hot climax, I knew his view was obstructed--and being watched by Lurch was kind of a turn on. Actually I suppose it was a real turn on, getting fucked by Josh's buddy while his other friend watched. As Porge's stiff cock raced in and out of my saturated pussy, I threw my head back and let my boobs fly wildly for Lurch's viewing pleasure. The whole erotic scene would have played out perfectly, complete with a juicy cum-filled climax, if it hadn't been for Lurch. Whether he dropped something or pressed too hard against the door, he made a loud enough noise to catch Porge's attention. Once I felt the boy stiffen, I knew it wasn't like before. "Oh my God, Porge... it's Lurch!" I artificially exclaimed and nearly jumped off Porge's lap. "Oh SHIT!" Porge yelled and grabbed up a few discarded clothes before racing to the bathroom. Realizing I had no time to dress, I slipped into Donny's long-sleeved white shirt. It covered all the important parts. I was working on the middle buttons as Lurch opened the sliding glass door. "Well now, what do we have here?" He asked a bit nervously. "Oh, hi Larry -- not much, just doing some cleanup. How you doin'?" I asked, bending to pick up a discarded halter top and workout shorts. He's Creepy and He's Kooky +++++ "Just a little cleanup you say?" He asked suspiciously. "Yeah, gosh isn't it just blistering hot out there today?" I asked, trying to nonchalantly shove Porgy's shorts under the couch. "Yeah it's hot. Not NEAR as hot as it is in here, I'd say," Lurch surmised, as he approached me. The super-tall 6'5" 20-year-old boney kid bent over to retrieve the pair of silk basketball shorts. "Ya know I was just saying how uncommonly warm it is inside; must be bad A/C or something," I lamely suggested, as Lurch closed in on me. "And you were saying that to... who?" He stated before shoving Porge's shorts in my face. "Hmm, I wonder who those are?" I said with furrowed brow. "I don't know. Let's see; they look like Porge's... interesting. Also interesting that you're pretty much as I always imagined," he said, fiddling with the top button of my shirt. "Oh really Larry, and what is it you always imagined?" I frowned and brushed his boney fingers away. "That, when it comes down to it, you ARE a total slut," he said with confidence. With that comment I turned away from him and headed toward the stairway. "Well, I suppose you can have your opinion--free country and all of that. But now Larry, I think you should leave," I said turning toward him one last time to show my disdain. In one of his giant steps he was next to me before I could reach the staircase. "I'm not going anywhere, Slut!" He shouted and ripped open my shirt, tearing the top three buttons off. "Stop it Larry; leave me alone!" I shouted back, grabbing my collar. "Sure, I'll leave you alone; just admit you are a fucking slut," he demanded and took hold of my wrist. "I'll do no such thing! Let GO!" I yelled, trying to wrist-twist out of his grip. Struggling to break free from the imposing kid only seemed to make it easier for him to gain more control. Gripping my other arm, he cross-armed me from behind. This produced the undesired effect of forcing my chest forward, exposing more than just my cleavage. I was reduced to hurling expletives and trying to stomp on his feet. However, there was no eluding the mismatch in our sizes. "You really must think I'm not only blind but a complete idiot, Mrs. B!" Lurch chuckled, as my tits swung to and fro, barely secure in the shirt thanks to one remaining button. "I don't know what you THOUGHT you saw, but I/WE were just working out, you asshole!" I half-shouted between labored breaths. "The two of you...working out... naked?" "YES!" "Oh really... with his little prick buried in your old pussy?" "FUCK YOU!" I shot back and finally nailed his instep with my heel. "OW!" He yelled and broke his one-handed grip on my wrists. There was a split-second at that point when I noticed I was free from his clutches. As he lifted his foot to rub away the pain, I quickly turned again toward the stairs. Somehow, in that split-second, his other arm shot out like a frog's tongue to grab hold of my/Donny's shirt. Rubbing his foot with one hand, the other tugged and further ripped the shirt. Screeching to high-heaven, I felt myself falling, as both hands pulled and tore away the decimated shirt. Within seconds, I was virtually naked, flat on my back, and drumming my fists on his chest. Straddling my tummy, he soon had my arms and fists under control and had forced them to the floor on either side of my head. "You really are quite a spark plug for a slut; what a bodacious set of ta-tas!" Lurch guffawed, as my chest heaved. Trying to catch my breath was now imperative, as my mind raced for a logical solution. "FUCK YOU, Lurch!" Was all I could get out, trapped underneath him. "You really should save your energy for something meaningful," he chided, pulling my wrists together again to grasp them in one of his long, boney paws. With his other hand free, he tugged on his t-shirt until he was able to yank it overhead. Switching from one grip to another, he was able to toss it aside. "Something meaningful ...and just what would THAT be?" I asked, expecting some twisted connotation. "Hmm, now what could an old slut possibly do that might be meaningful to me? I KNOW! You could suck my cock, how's that for starters?" He pleasantly suggested, while he undid his belt and jean shorts. "Fuck you," I replied, saving my strength for an impending rape. "Sure, I guess if you'd rather get fucked first..." He said, and then got off of me to lose his jeans. Still tightly gripping my wrists, he somehow contorted his long frame and legs to undress with one hand. It occurred to me then I could possibly try another escape or disable him using the tried-n-true, ever-popular kick to the groin. I strongly considered just that, until I caught sight of his more-than-adequate-sized erection. He must have noticed my fleeting glance at his 9"-plus pecker, before I turned away. "What's wrong, Mrs. B? I thought all you slut moms like big cocks?" He stated, climbing back on top. Now straddling my tits, he slapped my turned cheek with his swollen stick. When I remained unfazed he forced my head to the other side with the big ole slinky. After a few more insidious minutes, he gave up on face-fucking me and slithered down my torso. Incidental Indiscretions Forcibly shoving his long fingers between my clenched thighs, it became clear to him where this woman's strength lied. My rigid leg and thigh muscles had all the strength of a 20-year-old gymnast. There was no way he could gain entry without my permission. "WOW, I AM impressed; you really HAVE been working out!" He actually complimented. I proudly broke a half-smile before resuming my abused, disgruntled look. As I watched him take a few moments for a visual inspection, I concocted the glimmer of an escape plan. "You know, for a fucking old slut, you ain't half-bad! Actually, you're kind of a fox," He remarked, taking a rough grab or two at my melons. "You're just full of compliments, aren't you, ASSHOLE!" I shot back, while he continued fondling me. "Look, we both know I saw you fucking Porge; personally I believe you were doing it for my benefit." "Oh really?" I replied through clenched teeth. "Yes, really. And, the way I figure it, you were pretty damn close to getting off, weren't you?" He half-whispered in my ear. "That's none of YOUR fucking business!" "Hey Slut, I'm making it my business! Or maybe you'd rather explain all of this to Josh or that limp-dick husband of yours, hmm?" His grip on my wrists loosened, as my eyes locked onto his sunken, deceiving eyes. "You wouldn't dare..." I pleaded. "Larry, you can't DO that. Josh must NEVER know!" I grabbed his bare shoulders to make my point. "Well, I don't know. You ARE quite attractive; but you're hardly being persuasive," he suggested, shaking his head in fake dismay. Let's Make A Deal, Asshole! +++++ It was painfully obvious. There was only one form of payment that could possibly buy his silence. "Okay Lurch; what is it? You want to fuck me? Will that do the trick?" My eyes glanced aside at the mere thought. "Sure, that'd be sweet. Actually I was kinda thinking YOU would do the honors," he further suggested and climbed off of me. Climbing to my feet, I finally relaxed enough to catch my breath and assess the task at hand. Without a word, I stepped toward him and reached to undo his belt and jean shorts. "Remember, not a word of any of this to Josh, you promise!" I spelled out the terms of our unholy contract, as I yanked down his shorts and briefs. Dropping to my knees, I took hold of his imposing hardon. Just before I took his cock in my mouth Larry brushed my hair to one side. Entangling his long fingers in my feathered locks, he raised my face to his. "You really ARE a slut, aren't you, Mrs. B?" My silent response was to wink and suddenly impale my mouth with about half of his 9-inch cock. I immersed myself for the following five-minutes in treating my son's second closest friend to the epitome of my oral talents. Lurch's foul mouth poured out every degrading expletive he could conjure up, as I complied and took more and more of his full erection down my gullet. Sometime during the same five minutes, a petulant Porge emerged from the bathroom. "Hey Man, what the fuck are you doing? You'll smother her!" Porge barked, as he worked up enough courage to confront his too-tall friend. "Fuck you Porge! Can't you see the slut loves cock. That's it Baby, suck that big cock all the way -- YEAH! See, she fucking loves it!" Lurch spouted, as I eagerly twisted and deep-throated his entire thick boner. Long, white ribbons of precum-laced saliva tumbled out and down my chin. Rubbing the decadent cream over my tits, I reached with my other hand to fondle Porge's package. It wasn't long before I had a strangle hold on both of them. Porge seemed amazed at first with my obvious change of persona. No longer the middle-aged seductress, I had morphed into every healthy teenaged boy's ideal of a mature cum-loving nymphomaniac. After slobbering over each of their sturdy young cocks for about five minutes, Lurch pulled his boner away. He had his sights set on my ass, and was quick to line up for some rear-entry action. Falling to his knees behind me, he smacked my ass hard. "The bitch wants it doggy-style," he ridiculed, spreading my cheeks. Ignoring his vulgarity, I doubled my efforts on Porge's dick, while shaking my ass for their entertainment. Lurch's greased long cock met with virtually no friction, as he forcefully buried it deep in my pussy. "Oh YEAH, you fucking whore; take ALL of that fucking cock!" He bellowed, as he gripped my hips. The full length of his sizable tool pounding my snatch made it harder for me to concentrate on Porge's slippery hose. When I endeavored to trap it in my mouth, Lurch's power tool delivered one bone-jarring jolt after another. Dropping my head from any further attempts, I shifted my sole intent to letting Lurch machine-gun fuck me. My full jugs hung and swung into each other like two huge fleshy cogs rotating in perfect harmony, as his cock raced in and out of me. "Oh GOD YES! Fuck ME! Fuck me HARD! HARDER!" I shouted, as I glared back into his sweaty face. "God DAMN, this is ONE CRAZY bitch we've got here, Porge!" Lurch cackled, as he reamed me out. "Uh yeah, I g-guess so," Porgy replied in utter astonishment. "I DO believe she could handle BOTH of us, Man," Lurch added, slowing down the pace. "You think?" Porge asked as if his friend could possibly be serious. "EASY Man!" The tall, gangly boy stopped abruptly, pulled out and took a seat on the couch. "How 'bout it Bitch; you up for a little DP?" He asked massaging his weapon. "You guys are NUTS! I think we are quite done!" I insisted and climbed to my feet. Glancing at both of their ready hardons, I wondered if that statement would hold any water. Besides, the idea of doing both of them did intrigue me a little [okay, a lot]. Folding my arms across my boobs, I feigned boredom. Lurch leaned back on the couch, while Porge slowly edged close to me. "Hell Man, she's not going anywhere; bring that sweet ass over here," Lurch commanded, sat up, and lunged his lower half forward. "That's it Porge, let me at that ASS!" He instructed and took hold of my cheeks. Bending down to take Porge's cock in my mouth again, I felt two big hands spread my cheeks. Straight-legged, I swept my hand between my thighs to finger my saturated pussy. That's when I felt Lurch's tongue circling my asshole, then his finger--no, two fingers sliding inside. Who would have EVER thought my son's friends could be THAT filthy--certainly not me! However, I knew from experience to never trust the shy, quiet types. So I wasn't entirely amazed when Lurch's large hands maneuvered my legs and thighs and lowered my ass slowly onto his waiting erection. "Oh my God, no!" I objected half-heartedly, as his hands on my hips pressed the issue further. "Man, she doesn't want it like that, can't you see?" Porge warned with all the sincerity of a belated rubbernecker at a train wreck. Obviously he'd only seen such things in some porn magazine. "Oh really, Man? Look Porge, NO HANDS!" Lurch replied. Completely letting go of my hips, I continued to lower myself and fill my ass with his long cock. Feeling myself falling backwards, I readjusted slightly when Lurch reached to grab my thighs. "WHOA, talk about TIGHT! Come here Man and nail that sweet pussy." Lurch ordered and I was no position to object. Porge on the other hand was at first reluctant to add his meat to the mix. Facing us, holding on to his boner, he was dumb-struck at what to do next. "Well, what's the problem, Porge?" Lurch wondered, as I took more and more of his honker up my ass. "God Man, it's not a Vag-O-Matic--it won't chew up your wiener and spit it out in chunks; go ahead!" I broke a half-smile at Lurch's curious comparison and returned another knowing wink at the young lad before me. Porge took a giant step forward and slid the length of my pussy with his average sized tool. "Yeah Baby, put it in me. Oh YEAH, just like that!" I implored, as he split my lips. With both cocks neatly imbedded inside my pussy and ass, it wasn't long before the guys got in gear, so to speak. Actually it amazed me how well they worked in tandem. I was old enough to have already experienced and appreciated mind-numbing sex. However, these young lads were merely at the threshold, as they humped and generally hard-fucked their friend's mother to a series of full-blown orgasms. Trying to sustain one of those sweet orgasms, I threw my arms around Porge's neck. Latching on to Porgy's muscular frame for dear life, he pulled me up and off the couch. This disengaged me from Lurch, at least temporarily. Locking my arms around the shorter boy's neck, I rode his pogo stick high and tight. "OH GAWD! f-FUCK ME!" I screamed, while his strong arms and hands held me aloft. Pressing my jugs tight against his chest, I felt Lurch's demanding weapon crease my crack from behind. When the taller boy raised me even higher to reinsert his slick stinky cock I felt my whole spine lengthen. "G-G-GOD DAMN SHIT!" I cried, as Lurch powered his beast deep in my rectum. Tidal waves of pain and pleasure raced through me for the next several sadistic minutes. I was especially taken with their strength and endurance, as they held my 120-lb. body up for so long. "You guys are fucking a-MAZing!" I voiced, as they pulled out. "Here Slut, I'll show you amazing," Lurch said, pulling my head to its appointed task. "Okay, OKAY; I've seen enough porn movies. I GET the fucking idea!" I scowled, but went to my knees in front of them. "Good, then you know what we want, Slut," his sense of urgency and death-grip on my hair meant any further discussion was pointless. "What the hell, Man? Why are you treating her like that?" Porge commiserated but hardly deterred him from quickly jacking his own cock to the point of no return. Deep guttural moans and grunts started, followed soon with creamy white cum shots to my face. Yanking my head back to force my mouth open, Lurch unloaded several short blasts of globular icing. "Mmm, mmmm," I lapped up and savored every starchy spill. "That's it Slut, suck it ALL down!" Lurch shouted and forced his raging hose in my cum-rich mouth. As I accomplished the obligatory suck-n-clean on Lurch's sausage, Porge escalated his final barrage of yummy stuff. A long, white band crossed my nose and cheeks. Gripping the taller boy's cock, I whipped it from my mouth and switched to Porge's spewing tool. [I still contend, "The shorter the cock, the greater the load."] One, last suck-n-clean for both dicks and I reissued my terms. "Remember what you promised...not a word about this to ANYONE! If I hear even a hint about this, I'll swear you're a couple of lying queers, and that I can prove it!" I seriously remarked in no uncertain terms, as I pulled my clothes back on. "Hey, no problem here, Mrs. B. But ya better watch out for that one--he has some weird tendencies, ya know," Lurch laughed. "Hey, FUCK YOU, Man," Porge shot back in defense. "It's okay Sweetheart, your secret is safe with me," I mocked, hoping to lighten the moment. "Fuck you both...geeze," Porgy blushed and pulled his t-shirt on. Fit To Be Tied +++++ Some may wonder what happened to Donny and any further attempts at achieving marital bliss, following his cheating on me and I on him. As many a married woman once quoted, "One does what one must do for hearth and home." [or some such garbage] Anyway, yes. Just as Donny's deception was a cruel blow to my ego, my double-dose of guilt about nearly raping my son and succumbing to my wanton desires with his buddies was equally crushing. I pretty much considered both indiscretions a wash. The subsequent sex with Donny may have been less amorous and less intense due to the recent strain on our relationship, but Donny and I have always been mostly compatible between the sheets. It was one of those compatible early Saturday early mornings in August, when my hubby surprised me. Catching the smell of a fresh-cut lawn, I was able to deduce two things behind my lazy eyelids. Donny must be working on the lawn and it must be after 10 A.M. Flipping the sheet off with my toes, I rolled to pull myself out of bed. That's when he hit me with the first surprise. "Hey, where are you going? I was about to have breakfast," Donny whispered and shucked one of my legs aside. Diving head-first between my thighs, he started yanking on my panties. "Well now, I thought sure you were already up and about," I said, long-stretching from head to toe. "Ooh Baby, I'm definitely UP and I'm ALL about you and that hot snatch!" His jokes are always so endearing--not funny--just endearing. I was sans panties in a heartbeat. In another heartbeat his mouth and tongue were buried in my less-than-savory morning pussy. [That particular nuance never seemed to dissuade him, once his morning wood dictated the itinerary.] "Goodness, you're full of surprises aren't you?" I schmoozed rhetorically, while he attacked my labia with a vengeance. Shoving a few fingers inside my hole he stepped up his award-winning tongue work. "I'm just getting started on you, Baby," he answered between long licks. "Hmm, what's the instant fascination--not that I'm complaining," I stretched and combed my fingers through his graying temples. "You never cease to fascinate me, Baby. I thought I should show my appreciation and celebrate the "new you", he added. "The new me, huh. It's been months now and you've finally noticed?" I quizzed and spread my legs for better access. "You always look good, but now you look REAL good, Baby!" He added, lightly nipping my clit with his teeth. "GOD, I LOVE THAT--don't stop," I urged and bore down on his mouth. Plunging his fingers deeper, he locked my clit between his lips and tongued the very tip of it. This particular procedure, as he well knows, literally sends me to the fucking moon on gossamer wings. "Oh GOD, don't STOP!" I screamed and ran my calves up and down his torso like crazy. I was so close to Nirvana, when the asshole suddenly stopped! "You know how we've talked about trying different things and stuff," he started. "Right, sure, whatever. Couldn't you just finish... I mean can't we just..." I begged like a bitch-in-heat. "Soon enough, Baby. Here let's try this," he said, reaching under the bed for four long nylon ropes of varying lengths. "Are you serious? I really need you to finish what you started," I tried to reason, as he tied my wrists from one bed post and then the other. "Besides, you know we've tried this before, Honey." [the old fantasy fuck scenario.] "I know, I know; it will be different THIS time--much better," he figured, as he bound and stretched each of my ankles to their prearranged posts. "Now for the "fun" part," he whispered and pulled out a long, red bandanna. "And what's that for?" I knew all too well, as he adeptly found each bandanna end and twist-rolled it into a neat blindfold. "You really think this is necessary?" I asked as he tied it around my head and fixed it to cover my eyes. It's funny how being deprived of one sense for even a few seconds can have such an immediate effect on the other senses. Suddenly my hearing became acute. I heard a distant lawnmower stop. I hadn't even dawned on me until that moment that someone had been mowing. I heard birds chirping, a distant dog barking, and the distinctive sound of the lens cap of a handycam. A light breeze from an open window slowly bathed my spread-eagled nakedness. "Are you cold or anything?" Donny asked. "Anything? Well yes, you've got me horny as hell," I admitted. "Anything special you can do for that, hmm?" I added, twisting myself and shaking my tits in his general direction. "Damn you look so helpless and sexy like that!" Donny said, as I heard his voice trail away. The next sound I heard was the unique squeak of the second drawer of my nightstand table. Turning my head sharply toward the sound, I tried my best to conceal a smile. Burrowing my ass into the mattress and shaking my upper body to best effect, I resigned myself to playing his little game. "So, you like me helpless, Baby?" I pouted. "You know anyone could just do anything to me right now; is that what you want?" The next sensation was somewhat expected, as I felt trusty old Hank's Crank sliding up my inner thigh. The upper half of the mattress sagged. Almost simultaneously I felt Hank nestling itself just inside my slick lower lips. "Anyone?" Donny whispered. I nodded and felt his cockhead on my cheek. Turning my face, I opened my mouth. Running my tongue over my lips was an open invitation. "ANYthing?" He inquired and suddenly shoved Hank's 10" rubber replica about halfway into my well-lubed vagina. My mouth flew open in surprise. "Yes, YES they could do ANYTHING! Oh my G.." He muffled my response, shoving his 8" woody deep in my mouth. I fought off the urge to gag, as my hubby shifted his knees to lean over and fill my throat with his full erection. "Guess who I found the other day, Baby?" He asked rhetorically, as my throat relaxed and then contracted around his pole. "MMmm," was my hummed reply. When he shoved the dildo deeper I felt my entire pelvis quiver and tried hard to catch my breath through my nose. The bonds on my wrists and ankles tightened as my limbs shook involuntarily. Suddenly a gust of wind swept over me, with a renewed whiff of freshly mowed grass. In my heightened sensual state, I had to assume it had to be a stiff breeze coming from the window, since I knew the kids were both away on sleepovers. "Old friends are the best, don't you agree?" Donny mentioned with a degree of aroused anticipation in his voice, as he started fucking me with Hank's long, thick Crank. "Mm, MMM!" I fully agreed, which prompted him to give equal time to fucking my mouth. After several more erotic minutes of forced screwing, he must have calculated by my obviously depraved reactions he had tapped into my lust for a good fantasy fuck. As usual, he was correct in his assertion. The blindfold helped immensely! Anyone? Anything? +++++ I believe hubby's diabolic plan worked even better than he expected, as I felt myself transported to another physiological plane. Like being adrift or suspended in some hyper-erotic sea, my brain filled with visions of past lovers. Each particular lover took me to his/her peculiar pinnacle of sensual orgasm. Securely bound as I was, I still felt safe, yet totally at his mercy. I was in no position to deny him, nor did I want to. I began to hallucinate I guess: hands tugging at my boobs, more hands roaming and caressing my legs, thighs and hips, tongues licking and teasing my hard nipples gave way to a full-mouth tit sucking. All of which quickly sent me to my third orgasm. The whole time I remained keenly aware of the meaty cock in my throat and the much larger fake one in my cunt. However I must admit, I lost a clear sense of whose probe(s) they were attached to. The ever-fucking cock in my love hole, totally saturated with my juices, suddenly fell out. "What had I done wrong?" My subconscious wondered, when the throbbing one in my mouth expanded and exploded a torrent of hot cum. Trying my best to suck and swallow every bit of its morning nectar, I felt my favorite fucking toy now rimming my asshole. "Oh God YES! Fuck my ass!" I was finally able to annunciate. "Ask and you shall receive," I heard a voice say--Donny's voice? Yeah, it had to be Donny. That new-mown grass smell became more pronounced, as I felt Hank's Crank filling my posterior. I thought I felt the mattress give way, first at my feet then at my head, but decided I must be dreaming. My immediate concentration was on that glorious rubber honker making its way up my poop shoot. Being more than a little familiar with that particular tool's length and girth, I stretched and maneuvered to take it all. Mission accomplished, I let out a lusty sigh of contentment.