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Momma

By: MeetTheHumpers



Starring Chuck Dicker and introducing staid but stacked Sandra Dicker in: "Momma"

Written by Victor C. Nathan and Chantal Lefleur with additional ideas

contributed by Dr. Mojo

Edited by Victor C. Nathan

*

One bright and sunny summer afternoon at the Dicker household..........

"Ohhh, man, my wee wee just won't go down!" Chuck Dicker complained, looking down at the seven-inch erection straining against his khaki pants as he patted his protruding groin. "Fuck, I think I need some help with this shit, and Harriet has cheerleader practice all day, that is if she isn't fucking Henry or some other wee wee bigger than mine. Nah, I don't think she would do that shit to me. Momma!" Chuck called out for his G-cupped big-boobied mother Sandra who was at home at the moment. Chuck's father, the philandering Richard was out of town for the weekend and probably chasing tits and ass to boot. The young Dicker strode down the hallway, a frustrated look on his visage as he pawed childishly at the lump in his trousers.

"What is it, Chuckie?" the 40-year-old Sandra answered her eighteen-year-old son in a pleasant girlish voice from her bedroom. His mother currently wore a light grey cable-knit sweater that contained a high V-neck which didn't show much in the way of cleavage. It was a conservative sweater, but it was very tight and made her oversized boobs stick way out, squeezing hard against the stretching fabric. She sported a very large brassiere beneath it. Sandra wore a string of pearls around her neck and her lower body was covered by a pair of light khaki slacks that accented her round and fulsome ass as she bent to dust the drawers on the front of her dresser. Her gorgeous brunette hair hung nearly to her shoulders and was styled as conservatively as her sartorial selections. June Cleaver would have been fucking proud.

"Momma, the front of my pants are getting so uncomfortable!" Chuck yelled back, opening the door to her room where the busty Sandra was now busily dusting the night table. "Ohhhhh, my wee wee is up again and it won't go down! It smarts, Momma!"

"Chuckie, what do you want Momma to do about, it sweetie?" Sandra asked, momentarily putting down the dust cloth and readjusting her boobies inside the cups of her bra. The fabric of her grey sweater was thin and stretched enough to show a hint of the texture that adorned the bra underneath, which today was a full-coverage white lace number, with a thick padded underwire cup covered at the bottom by a simple but still sexy floral lace pattern that gave way to a few inches of sheer fabric on the upper slope of the garment just above the nipple. The straps, while tapered, were still nearly twice as thick as most bras. The substantial weight of the Dicker matriarch's mammaries necessitated some sturdy clothes engineering to give her adequate support. Sandra was too conservative to have the kind of obscene, stripper-level lingerie collection that the Humper women packed away in their dressers, but she still liked to buy chest supports that had a classic touch of girly daintiness that made her feel sexy even as she did housework. "I'm really pretty busy as you can see, Chuck. I need to get my chores done before I have to go shopping later."

"But Momma," Chuck whined, rubbing the crotch of his pants vigorously with the heel of his hand as he stared hornily at her sweaterly plumpers. "It won't fucking go down and there's no one else available to help me!"

"Charles H. Dicker," his mother said sternly, giving her son 'the look.' "Don't you be using that kind of language around me, young man. It may be alright in the Humper household, but it's not alright here. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sorry, Momma. I hear you," Chuck responded, starting to feel a little desperate, her titties looking so hot inside her sweater and her snazzy underwire bra accenting them so perfectly that all he wanted to do was play with her plump protrusions like a giddy schoolboy pervert. "But I really need you to do something about my hard-on. Really, really bad, Momma."

"Chuck, I understand that you feel an urgency about getting your sexual needs met," Sandra Dicker said softly as she grabbed her large honkers and lifted them up with the palms of both hands before adjusting her extra thick straps. "But my back is killing me from hefting these big breasts of mine around all morning and I have chores to do. I can't just drop everything because you have needs."

"But Momma, I'm so fucking horny I can hardly stand it," Chuck said, beginning to whine like a small child as he now wantonly stroked the crude lump inflating the front of his pants while gaping at her melon-like protrusions. "Please, Momma? Please? I'll even help with some of the chores if you take care of it. Please?"

"Chuck, I asked you not to use such filthy language around me," Sandra said sternly, releasing hold of her motherly knockers and her boulder-holder. "I know that the Humpers use all kinds of nasty words and all kinds of silly baby talk, but I won't have it in my house. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Momma," Chuck said contritely, his eyes lowering to the floor ashamedly, the first time he had taken his gaze from her honkers. "But could you take care of my erection? Please? Pretty please? I'm begging here, Momma. I really need it taken care of." 

"Oh, Chuck, you spoiled boy," Sandra tried to scowl as she touched her large breasts, but a sunny smile shined through her feigned aggravation. "I suppose I could take a little teeny break from chores, but not too long of a break, mind you."

"Oh, gee thanks, Momma!" Chuck burst out, feeling the need inside his cock and balls continue to grow, a desire as big as her boobies and just as uncontrollable. "It won't take that long and I promise to help you with all the laundry afterwards."

"Okay, sweetie," Sandra told him sweetly, her heaving bazoom balloons moving just a smidgen. "I'm going to hold you to that, but if we're going to do this, we might as well do it right. Help me get this sweater off."

"Sure, Momma," the young man eagerly acquiesced as they both reached for the bottom of the grey V-neck sweater and began to ease it up over her big boobs and beautiful head of brown chestnut hair. Sandra then neatly folded the cable-knit and placed it on the night table carefully so as not to stretch or wrinkle it too terribly. This was followed by her pearl necklace, one of the few in Chuck's world that was not made of semen. She laid it carefully beside her top. "Now Chuckie, if you could be a dear and help me get this big bra off too."

Around two minutes later..........

"Oh my goodness, Chuck, that feels really great!" Sandra Dicker cried out loud as her son knelt between her splayed knees and pushed his penis inside her until his bloated nutsack was brushing softly against her rounded buttocks, her G-sized tear-shaped danglers now free of her underwire as they hung above her nearly flat stomach. "Ohhhhhh, yesssssssssss!"

"Ha ha, Momma!" Chuck laughed, beginning to plunge in and out of her now slickly lubricated honeypot while pawing and kneading her oversized feminine chestly assets with gusto and much sexual need. "It's not too often that you really let your hair down and let go for some fun, so this is great."

"Oh, it's so great. It's so great I can hardly stand it. Oh! Oh! " Sandra screamed, reaching down with her left hand to stimulate her clitoris with her index finger, grinning as she closed her brown gimlet eyes, scrunching them to contort to the pleasure inside of her occupied slot. "Oh, Chuckie. Hilda Humper was right. This is making us so much closer, isn't it? I feel like we're really connecting on a new level, don't you?"

"Oh, I do, Momma, I do!" Chuck agreed loudly, his hands working Sandra's big G's in a circular motion upon her chest as he plunged his very hard stalk full throttle in and out of Momma's sweet vagina. "I mean, our relationship at home is better and we are a lot closer than we have ever been. Ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh, it's tight! Plus, what could be closer than a fucking pelvic connection?"

"Chuck, ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh, don't you dare use that dirty language! I don't want to hear it again! Ohhhhhh, yeeeeaaaahh!" Sandra breathed like a locomotive, albeit a stacked busty one as she tossed her pelvis into his, his cock swollen and piercing her silken pussy. "Don't use those cuss words when you are having sex with your Momma, Chuck! Ohhhh, sweetie, this is just what I needed after a day of chores! Ohhhhhh, woooooow, this is working the stress off so nicely!"

"Oh, it sure is," Chuck moaned, grabbing at her breasts roughly and fondling them, tweaking her nipples and occasionally lowering his face to capture one between his teeth to gently tug on as they worked at the art of lustful pelvis collisions. "This is the best stress reducer there is, bar none."

"Oh, sweetiechuckiebaby!" his staid and proper mommy cried out as he continued to plunge his swollen staff between her luscious thighs and into her swimming hole. "I think I'm about to finish. Are you getting close, dear?"

"Oh, fuck, yeah!" Chuck cried out, biting her hard enough on the nipple to elicit a yelp from her. "I can feel it rising up in the tube of my pecker."

"Chuckie, dear," the 40-year-old G-cupped gimcrack goddess of homemaking scolded him again as he probed her and felt her vaginal muscles grab and firmly milk his phallus. "Watch the language, dear. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"I think I'm about to join you!" Chuck screamed, clenching his teeth as he felt the first expulsion of hot and sticky jism leap from the head of his penis and rocket into the deepest folds, the nadir of her matriarchal tunnel.

"Mmmmmmmm, I just love this part, Chuck," his mother moaned, her breath ragged and labored against the side of his face as she gave his cheek a lick. "Your father usually just takes what he wants and never seems to care if I get to this point. He's a selfish man, your father. I decided a long time ago to just let Hilda Humper take care of his needs. Of course, she takes care of all the penises in town, including all of her relatives too. Ohhhhhhh! I am not trying to be too rough here, but to heck with your father. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I.........am..........orgasming, my sweet boooooooyyyyy!"

"Oh, Momma, Momma, Momma Miiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaa!" Chuck belted out like an Italian opera singer as he continued to splash her delicate insides with copious amounts of semen while simultaneously suckling on her left breast like a starving man at a buffet. "Man, this is some good stuff!"

Finally sated, Chuck pulled away from his mother, his penis falling from her body with an audible wet popping noise as he cuddled up beside her with his head on her right breast while he playfully fondled her left.

"That was very sweet, Chuckie," his mother spoke soothingly as Chuck gnawed gingerly on her pillowy hooter hilltop like it was a piece of chewing gum and she ran her fingers admiringly up and down the shrinking shaft between his legs. "Suck, sweet boy. Suck Momma. Mmmmmmm, that is nice. But now we need to get up and get the sheets on this bed changed and get the chores done. I see where some of your semen splashed on the mattress cover and my vaginal juices are making a big pool, and Chuckie, I am lying in the wet spot, dear. Up you get!"

The naked pair of them labored as they changed the stained and disheveled bed, their exposed parts, boobies and wee wees and Sandra's big ass swinging around as they did so. The job was soon complete and Sandra and her son dressed, but Chuck did manage a few lascivious gropes of her twin peaks as they did so.

"Now somebody's got laundry to do, don't they?" Sandra said, winking at him, her highly supportive bra and grey cable-knit sweater back on and her boobs covered for the moment. Yet the lovely Sandra was naked from the waist down, her shaved dent of a cunny exposed as she stood before her son. "I'm not putting my old ones back on cause you got Momma so soaking wet in the crotch, Chuckie bear." Sandra handed her son her white lace panties that contained the same lush floral pattern that adorned her sturdy double reinforced massive G-cupped underwire brassiere. Her lovely underwear was darkened at the pubic area with her sweet natural lubrications. "Now you can put all my underwear in the washer when you go downstairs, Chuckie, can't you? There might even be a little reward for that beautiful penis of yours later if you do."

"Yes, ma'am!" Chuck agreed, touching her bobbling cantaloupe cans and squeezing them before heading for the door. "Now that sounds good to me, and my dick thinks it sounds greeeeaaaaaattt!"

"Okay, Tony the Tiger, get that laundry started then!" Sandra told him with a snicker, placing a hand under each of her jugs and juggling them up and down for him. "And Chuck, don't be sniffing my panties again, okay?"

"Awwwwww, Momma!" Chuck replied with a pout, watching with fascination as her orbs pitched all around inside her massive bra. "Gee whiz! Okay, I won't!"

Several hours later..........

"Laundry's all done, Momma!" Chuck shouted proudly as he came downstairs to where his mother was cleaning the kitchen. "I got it out of the dryer, folded it all and put it all away too."

"Why sweetheart, I'm so proud of you," his mother responded, wiping her wet and detergent covered hands on a nearby towel. "Did you put all my bras away too? I can't believe how many of them I have to wash every week, Chuck. You have got to stop ejaculating into them, sweetie. The other day I was getting dressed and I couldn't even find a clean one to wear. Every single one of them had your dried and caked ejaculate in both cups. My sports bra was the only one that you hadn't stuck your penis into."

"Sorry, Momma," Chuck replied sheepishly, blushing blood red, but grinning in spite of his naughty act. "But those things turn me on so much that I just can't help myself. Plus, I couldn't find your sports bra. I was looking for it yesterday when I had a chubby of a hard-on. Ha ha! And anyway, you just told me not to sniff your panties. You didn't say I couldn't squirt a load into one of those big cups on your boulder-holders."

"Yes, I know, Chuck, but if you keep ejaculating like that in my brassieres, it just makes more work for me, and today, for you. Okay, dear?" Sandra explained, adjusting the straps of the enormous bra she was currently wearing beneath her sweater, her lady humps on the move again.

"Yes, ma'am, whatever you want," Chuck came back with a compliant tone, hoping, praying, but not yet daring to speak aloud of the reward he hoped to receive from his G-cupped hottie of a parent. "I don't mind helping you out though. You are such a great and such a beautiful mother, after all."

"Oh, you little suck-up," Sandra giggled in a way that was out of character for the sexy 40-year-old who carried two magnificent lumps of loveliness atop her chest. "Why Chuckie, you are about the best son a momma could ask for, aren't you? And you are cute too."

"Plus, I threw some of your blouses in the washer afterwards too," the boyish Dicker told her, looking longingly at her chest once again, but still biding his time before he pushed for the 'payment' for his services. "And I cleaned the bathroom and even scrubbed the tub and got that motherfucker as shiny as a pair of waxed up titties!"

"Charles, don't you start that talk again!" Sandra said in such a heated voice that Chuck was almost afraid he might have just blown his chance for some mommerly tittie or pussy or oral stimulus for his wee wee. "It really upsets me when you curse like that, using those dirty mf words like some piece of ghetto trash!"

"I'm sorry, Momma, really I am. It's just a bad habit I picked up from Harriet," he whined, making himself into a victim before he sprung the possibility of more sex. "It's like smoking or drinking or having sex in public. It's hard to break the habit, but I'm sorry. I'll try not to do it again."

"You know, Chuck," his mother started to say, sitting down at one of the kitchen chairs and adjusting her boobage yet again. "Sometimes I have a good mind to forbid you to ever see that Humper girl again. She and her whole family are just white trash who act like common tramps and speak like guttersnipes. I ran into Ms. Humper the other day at the grocery store and saw her performing oral sex on one of the stockers. She was dressed like she's still a teenager. Mutton dressed as lamb, as my mother used to say. She was spilling out of her blouse and her skirt was so short I could almost see her behind when she bent over. I quickly ducked into another aisle so she wouldn't see me and try to initiate a conversation. It's bad enough that your father can't stay away from those two. I don't know what you see in that girl, I really don't."

"Oh, but Momma," Chuck whined, absentmindedly poking his mother in her left tittie. "That girl is smokin' hot with one of the biggest sets of knockers I've ever seen on a girl her age. Plus, she can contort herself quite a bit too. You wouldn't really try to stop me from seeing her, would you?"

"No, sweetie, I wouldn't," Sandra told him wistfully, giving him an affectionate pat on the crotch. "I know you have been seeing her for a long time now and that you care about her. I just wish you wouldn't use that vile language that she's so fond of."

"I know, Momma. I'm sorry," Chuck responded contritely, giving his mother a quick pat on the boobs and a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I will try really hard not to use those words. As a matter of fact, any time you hear me use one, you can take a dollar away from my allowance. How's that?"

"Alright, Chuck, that's a deal. And if you can go a whole week without dropping the F bomb even once in my presence, I'll give you another reward, okay?"

"What reward is that?" Chuck asked hopefully, feeling his dick solidify a bit in his pants after his mother's touch and after touching her undulating twin soldiers.

"Well, Chuckie, let's just say that it's not a monetary reward and that the biggest payback from the reward takes place somewhere right below your belt, okay? And that this reward will make you tickle a lot," Sandra explained, smiling at her boy and smoothing her sweater down over her jubblies. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Chuck almost bellowed, gently poking her other boob in turn. "Gee whiz, Momma, I think that I'll never cuss again is what I think!"

"Oh, now that's my boy," Sandra beamed indulgently and winced in a happy way as her right tittie dimpled. "You're a good boy, Chuckie dear. I just don't like it when my good boy curses and swears and uses that dirty language."

"Um, Momma.....speaking of rewards," Chuck said softly, hope springing eternally on her chest and in his pants. "I finished all the laundry and put it away like you asked. I cleaned the bathroom and scrubbed the tub and all and well......."

"Yes, Chuck, I know you did, dear," Sandra responded cheerily, poking a finger down the front of her blouse to get at an itch between her humongous breasts that was driving her crazy. "And I believe I said 'thank you', didn't I?"

"Um, yes. You thanked me," Chuck responded in the affirmative, nearly salivating as he watched his buxom mother scratching at the huge canyon between her juggernaut jubblies. "But um, you did kind of.......well..you know.......promise me a reward?"

"Sweetie, I believe good deeds are their own reward," Sandra said with a chuckle, finally extracting her index finger from between her chestly charms.

"Yeah, but the good deeds don't exactly bring pleasure to that place right below my belt that you were talking about a minute ago," he continued, placing a hand atop his slowly expanding crotchline for emphasis, not daring to make another grab for her tits at the moment, not desiring to do anything that might totally turn Sandra off to the idea of a sexual sort of reward plan that she had insinuated at earlier in the afternoon. "In fact, other than squirting into that see-through bra of yours, I haven't had another spit since our last little rendezvous."


Momma



"Chuck, dear, is sex all you think about? I know you're young and your hormones are active, but sex is not the only pursuit that is worthwhile in life, regardless of what Hilda and Harriet Humper may try to tell you," Sandra said, this time scratching one of her jugs through her sweater, the prickly summer heat causing her boom booms to itch a little.

"I know it's not the only pursuit, Momma," Chuck said earnestly, watching his mother scratch her breast and wondering if he should offer a finger or two to help her. "But at eighteen years of age it's certainly right up there in the top one or two."

"Chuck, dear," Sandra said, still scratching at her bigguns though the fabric of her sweater. "I just don't want you to get the idea that I am at your total beck and call when it comes to this 'Humper family values' stuff. We are not the Humpers. We won't ever be the Humpers. We are the Dickers and we will behave like Dickers, your father notwithstanding. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Chuck responded gloomily, feeling his wee wee wane for a second as he looked away from her bustline. "But do you think you could pretend we're the Humpers just long enough for me to get my dick sucked?"

"Charles H. Dicker," his mother said ominously, causing Chuck to wish he could recall his words. "If you want me to involve myself in certain acts, you are going to have to learn a little couth and refinement. I do not 'suck dicks.' I give oral gratification. When we have sex, I don't use the nasty vernacular that the Humpers do. I simply call it engaging in coitus or intercourse. Now, do you think you can remember that the next time you want me to reward you? All I ask for is some semblance of manners. I know you can do it."

"You're right, Momma," Chuck said apologetically, visions of possible naked Sandra milkwagons dancing in both his big head and his little one. "I wonder if the two of us might engage in some nice sexual activity this afternoon and maybe possibly even make sweet love together again? What do you think?"

"Oh, now that's more like it, dear!" Sandra almost whooped, hefting her titanic titters way up again with her palms as she then patted him in a motherly way on his wee wee area. "That's saying it the way Sandy likes to hear it, sweetness. Since you put it that way, I think I might be able to oblige you in that regard, my dear son. Just help me off with this sweater again, Chuck. I like it when you help me take it off. That way I can fold it so it doesn't get too wrinkled."

"Sure thing!" he concurred, both of them reaching again for the bottom of the garment, ready to ride it back over her knockers and head.

"Chuck, I don't think it's a good idea to do this here, sweetie," Sandra decided suddenly, pulling her sweater back down over her humongous titsacks. "Don't you think it would be more fun if we went upstairs to my bedroom?"

"Yeah, Momma, I guess you're right," Chuck said, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her eagerly in the direction of the stairs leading to the upper level of the Dicker home. "Harriet and I have done it on the kitchen table a few times and it does get a little uncomfortable, ha ha."

Once the two of them were in the master bedroom of their house, Chuck quickly helped Sandra pull the sweater up over her extra-large knockers and brunette head and then watched impatiently while she folded it and placed it neatly on the top of his father's chest of drawers. "Can I take your bra off again Momma, please?"

"I guess that's okay, Chuck," his mother said sweetly, her cute oversized mountains squeezing pertly from the supportive white cups that provided her much in the way of support. "How can I turn you down when you ask me so sweetly?"

Chuck's hands were shaking with anticipation as he moved closer to his mother, so close that they were almost in a full body clench. He reached around her with his arms to begin to unfasten the hooks of the oversized tit-holder in a calculated move. Having to stretch to reach so far around her globes forced his face to mash against the fullness of her boobage. He took his time, savoring the moment, feeling her soft womanly flesh pressed up against his face. Finally the last hook was undone. Pulling the sheer fabric of the bra gently by the straps, he slowly lowered it on her arms, exposing her naked womanly pillows an inch at a time.

"You are so beautiful, Momma," he moaned sincerely, taking in the spectacular view of her now completely exposed bosom, her tear-shaped massive wobbling whoppers that reached nearly to her navel once they were unsheathed. "You look so good I wish I could just eat you all up."

His words giving him an idea, he suddenly bent low, his face once again level with her chest. Sticking out his tongue, he licked at the tender milky white flesh of her breasts, drawing his tongue slowly across the vast expanse of her womanly assets. Sandra sighed deeply, obviously aroused by his actions and without even consciously forming the intent, she almost reflexively reached down and gave his by now bulging crotch a forceful squeeze. He reached down and rubbed his mother between her legs, feeling her moist nether lips through her slacks and panties, garnering a coo of appreciation.

"Oh, dear, that feels good to my big breasts, Chuck, ohhhhhh, and my vagina too, but I think we need to take your pants off, sweetie," Sandra said softly, feeling an urgency first emanating from her Dicker bazooms, but then centering right in the core of her womanhood where he touched her. "Cause I want thiiiiiiisssss, my lovely boy."

His mother firmly gripped her son's erect shlong through his pants to add emphasis and weight to her words and then moved her topless nude globular girls away from his face, pulling his solid blue t-shirt over his head, touching his bare chest and then going to her knees to indulgently undo his pants, her hilltops of G-cup goodness resounding and ricocheting around throughout their encounter.

"Oh, Momma," Chuck Dicker swooned, looking at his heavily laden mother who was naked to the waist as he was too by this point as she knelt and took her time with his pants, like a good mother would.

Finally, with Chuck's clumsy assistance, Sandra was able to get his pants off. Folding them neatly, she placed them on Richard Dicker's dresser, right on top of her own carefully discarded clothing.

"Oh my goodness," Sandra commented in amazement, sighing deeply as Chuck gave her a nipple pinchy on both bodacious breasts. "You really do have one eager member there, don't you? I don't think I've ever seen him stand so high and proud before. He's going to stretch your underwear all out of shape if we don't get him out of there soon, Chuckie."

Reaching out tentatively with her left hand, Sandra rubbed the gigantic bulge that was causing her son's Fruit of the Looms to form a tent big enough to sleep six.

"Oh, Momma, if you keep that up I'm likely to ejaculate before we even get my underwear off," Chuck moaned, running his fingers through her long gorgeous hair as he surveyed every inch of her outcroppings.

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" Sandra asked rhetorically, grabbing the waistband of his tightie whities and pulling them down, no mean feat considering the size of the bulge impeding their smooth passage off of his body. "Why, that naughty little fellow of yours just sprang up so fast he almost took my eye out. Oh, he's a beautiful boy, isn't he, Chuck? Look at all those veins just throbbing away and that big shiny crown of his. Oh, I think I'm feeling a bit of humidity down south, if you know what I mean."

"Thank you, Momma," Chuck managed to say as he tried very hard not to move too fast and upset her well-mannered sensibilities. "But do you think we could get on with some sexual gratification here because I'm about to explode, I'm so horny."

"I'm sorry, sweet boy," Sandra replied with soft laughter that rattled her rack She licked the palm of her hand before sliding it up and down the shiny sheen of his full-on erection. "I don't mean to be a tease. I just think that sometimes it's best to draw out the anticipation. Makes it so much better when it finally happens, don't you think?"

"I'm going to anticipate myself right into an instant ejaculation if something doesn't happen pretty darn quick," Chuck quipped, flicking at her breasts playfully. "Do you think I could avail myself of some of that oral gratification now?"

"Ohhhh, Chuckie, you want me to put your penis in my mouth and throat!" Sandra told her boy playfully, rubbing the underside of his wee wee with the tip of her thumb right beneath the bulbous head as he tweaked at each of her cantaloupe slopes of hilly hilltops.

"Well, yeah, Momma! I mean, heck, yeah!" Chuck sheepishly sighed in a loud and almost impatient voice as a drip of pre-cum found its way out of the end of his cockhead, eeking onto one of her overhanging middle-aged mammaries. "It feels even better when a momma does it! Ha ha ha! That's what Henry Humper says about sex with his mom!"

"Yeah, that little Humper degenerate would say something like that, wouldn't he?" Sandra spoke disapprovingly of Chuck's best friend, even as she licked the remainder of clear fluid from the hole of his spongy mushroom and then stuck her tongue inside his urethra for a second and flicked it in and out.

"You know, Chuck," his mother admitted earnestly, absentmindedly running her hand along the rigid shaft of his jumbo Johnson, bumping her right boob with her forearm in the process. "I was horrified at first when you told me about the Humpers and their sexcapades. I really thought that Hilda must be totally messed up and that she'd raised a couple of degenerates like herself. And she did. But you know what, baby? She was right about one thing. I mean, what could possibly bring a mother and son closer together than having him squirt his semen in her mouth and down between her legs? It doesn't get more intimate than that, now does it? I think this will give us a really close relationship, Chuckie, and I'll have to write Hilda a note thanking her for giving us such a gift. I can even forgive her for seducing your father all those years."

"Gee, that's a swell idea," Chuck said sweetly, putting his hand on the back of his mother's head to try to steer her mouth closer to his demanding organ.

"Now shove that big hard member on in there, my sweet son!" Sandra exuded horniness, her jugs a-juggling, her nipples hard and sharp with lust. "Cause I'm hungry to suck ya!"

Sandra Dicker slid the head of Chuck's cock into her pursed mouth and in seconds her lips were pressed against his pubic bone while her hands pulled and rubbed on his dangling balls. Her head began a steady up and down sawing on his sex organ that made her heavy bazooms beat against her son's kneecaps. Chuck's jizz-laden testicles almost sloshed against her chin with their cargo. He knew he could barely hold out at all this time and as he began to gently buck his waist, humping his peter down into her velvety throat, the surge of his impending squirt-outs built like a surge of power that heated his bounding nuts and drove itself into his seven-inch staff. And finally he lost it. The noisy slaps of his mother's jugs against his legs and the sight of her brunette head bounding on his stalk and the loud sloppy slurping, the sighing and gurgling coming from her throat and the sight of her motherly slobber adorning his knob all served to shove him unceremoniously over the fucking edge of the orgasmic cliff. He had been waiting two hours for this feeling and here it was.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" Chuck grunted with every shot that escaped his urethra, his phallus coating the back of her throat with the contents of his testes as he reached down to palm her G-cup titmeat, temporarily arresting the kinetic motion of her bloated pair, the same pair he had sucked milk from as an infant. "Momma, Momma, Mooooooooommmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

And it was in this moment that he fully and completely realized the rightness of Humper family values and all they portended for his penis and for Sandra's pussy and breasts. But he realized more than that. He had, in many ways, assimilated. Despite his mother's earlier admonition, he truly had been transformed. He had become a Humper.

THE END



Momma and Me



Author's note: This is a work of fiction. To my knowledge no people ever existed who did these things. While many of my stories have a kernel of fact that I build from, this one does not. It came straight out of my twisted mind, sparked by a comment on another story about liking that my characters were not all young and beautiful. In this story, all characters are over eighteen by the time they have sex. When you read this please comment on any problems you spot and also vote. This is the only reward the authors get for our work. Of course, if you happen to like it, a little pat on the back comment will be accepted.

THIS REVISION OF MOMMA AND ME IS A RESULT OF YOUR VARIOUS COMMENTS. THANKS, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. 

*

I was rummaging through my old storage shed trying to decide what to keep and what to take to the dump. I had finally corralled my fifteen year old son long enough to have him help. With his full schedule of sports and school, that was no small feat.

"What the heck is this, Dad?"

I went to the back corner where he'd uncovered a relic from the past; an old seventeen inch RCA TV.

"Here, I'll load it up and run it to the dump with the rest of the stuff," he said.

"Naw, I don't think we'll get rid of it. It was the first TV my family ever owned. I spent many hours watching ED Sullivan, The Hit Parade, and The Life of Riley on that thing."

"Huh? What were they?"

I had to explain that life didn't start with MTV and Josie and the Pussycats, or any of the other shows that he and his sister thought they couldn't live without watching in living color. I had brought it over from the old place after Momma died and my brother, who'd inherited the house, wanted to remodel.

I'd covered it in plastic and before long enough junk was piled around it, I forgot it was there. I hadn't seen it or even thought about it in years, but now memories flooded back and I was a young boy again.

The year was nineteen fifty four and I waited anxiously for the TV man to deliver the set and install the antenna. In those days the reception in our rural area was spotty at best and the Yagi Array antenna had to be as high as possible; in our case it sat upon a fifty feet extending antenna that was mounted atop the house.

I could hardly wait for them to finish, but when they finished we had the best picture in the area. It was so much better the neighbors gathered at our house to watch Saturday Night Wrestling. Daddy was a grumpy, hard to get along with man, who soon got tired of them keeping him up until midnight every Saturday and despite Momma's best efforts managed to upset all our friends. After that they never visited again, leaving us pretty isolated on our backwoods farm.

Not having anyone around didn't bother Daddy at all. Me and my older brother had each other, but Momma had only Daddy and he was such a tyrant none of us wanted to be around him.

Television and school became my only tie to the civilized world while Momma had only television. Daddy didn't want her to leave the house except to work the fields or when he took her to town shopping for supplies. Momma really enjoyed watching TV in what we called the den, but was really just a little closed in porch room on the opposite end of the house away from the bedrooms. That was her only source of enjoyment in life except for me and my older brother, Tommy.

The three of us were really close. When Daddy was hunting or fishing, Momma would usually bake something we liked. My favorite was Caramel Cake but Tommy always wanted her to make a concoction called Chewies. Tommy got his wish more often since the cake took longer and Momma wanted to get out of the kitchen and spend time with us.

We'd do all kinds of things. Things like seeing who could score twenty one first, while shooting basketball goals, or playing board games while sitting in the shade of our big Chinaberry tree. Sometimes, if it was extremely hot, the three of us would walk the half mile to the creek which ran through our property. It made a great swimming hole and some of my best memories involved our time there. 

I remember once, when Daddy would be gone all day, Momma called us from our horseshoe game.

"Boys," She said, "It's just too hot to do anything. Why don't we pack a picnic basket and go down to the creek?"

"Yeaa!" We rushed to help her get ready. While I got a couple fishing canes ready, Tommy helped Momma get the basket packed. We traveled very light, a couple towels and the food, along with the fishing gear was enough to lug a half mile. We'd all swim in our shorts, and then just let them dry on our bodies. I liked that, for sometimes Momma would wear something that would be almost transparent when wet. 

When she and Tommy came out of the house, I could see this was one of those days. I could also see Tommy had a tent pole pushing at the front of his shorts. He kept it until we were almost to the creek.

The first thing we did was jump in the water to cool off. We laughed and horsed around like wild Indians and Momma joined right in. She grabbed me, trying to duck me under, but I managed to slip away.

"I'm going fishing." I didn't like anybody sticking my head underwater, so I got a cane and moved a ways upstream where their fooling around wouldn't scare the fish. I could still see Momma and Tommy as they wrestled around in the water. They both seemed to really enjoy it. I could see why Tommy did, his hands were all over Momma, not blatant of course, but I was sure he got some really good feels.

Finally Momma had enough. "Come on, Robert," she called, "time to eat."

I could hardly eat. Momma's shirt clung to her body and did nothing to hide her bra and her shorts were almost as revealing. Poor Tommy had a tent pole protruding under his shorts, and from the way he looked at Momma, I was sure he'd rather still be playing instead of eating.

After we got back home that evening, we all had chores to finish. When Momma carried a bucket in the barn to gather the eggs of the few eccentric chickens that refused to lay in the henhouse, I noticed Tommy slip in after her. Curiosity wouldn't allow me not to follow them. After seeing them at the creek, I wondered what was going on. I got there just in time to hear Momma's hand slap him.

"Don't you dare say anything against your Daddy! Yes, I love you boys, but I love him too."

"But he treats you awful, Momma. Why don't we just all leave one day, when he's gone like this, and never come back?"

"And live off what?" Momma asked.

"I could get a job. I could make as much money in one of the North Carolina textile mills as we do here on the farm."

"Boy, you don't know what you're talking about." I saw Momma turn to walk away, and then she turned back toward him. "Just because you managed to feel me up today while we were playing, don't assume you can give me what your daddy does, even if I would let you, which I wouldn't. You're my son, for God's sake."

I slipped away quickly, before they could see me. I really felt sorry for Tommy; Momma had hurt his pride pretty badly, even if he was asking for it. Tommy was never the same after that. Oh, he acted the same when it was just the three of us; it was like the barn incident never happened, and we still went swimming, just there was no horseplay with Momma. It was with Daddy that he changed. They were forever at each other's throat; a few times I thought they would actually fight, but they never did.

I never did learn exactly what happened. I came home from school one day and Momma had a bruise on her face, Daddy had two black eyes and a couple teeth missing and Tommy was gone. Momma told me later, he'd joined the Navy

The next two years seemed to fly for me. I had to take up Tommy's part of the farm work and still make good enough grades to get into college. I intended I was going to make something of my life, and Momma worked like a dog to give me enough time to study. We were actually so busy, the TV was hardly ever turned on.

Finally! I turned eighteen and graduated the same week. Now with the stress of studying gone we had more time. Momma and I could return to our old routine of watching TV. The only thing different was; Tommy was missing. Momma proudly displayed pictures he sent us of the exotic port-of-calls he visited, and she bragged to all the ladies at church about how he's made Petty Officer 3rd class so quickly.

One more thing gave me a sudden dose of reality; it took money to go to college and Daddy claimed he didn't have enough to send me. We all knew he was lying but there was no changing his mind. With this turn of events, Tommy became my shining knight. He had been sending Momma some money every month to keep for him. He now wrote that if I would stay on the farm and try to make things easier for Momma until his enlistment ended, he would increase the money he sent each month until we had enough to pay for my schooling. He had a deal!

Once again Momma and I would watch TV together after Daddy, who went to bed with the chickens, fell asleep. Momma had to get in the bed with him, but he was such a hard sleeper she could get back up and he'd never know the difference. She'd sit beside me on the sofa, dressed in her old nightgown, Daddy wouldn't waste money on such junk as a housecoat, so while she sat there giggling about "I Love Lucy, I'd keep an eye on her hoping to catch a glimpse of bare leg or boob. Sometimes I got lucky. Personally, I hoped she would never get a housecoat.

Month after month we kept to this routine. Then I noticed Momma seemed a little frisker on some night while on other nights she seemed all keyed up. One night I had went to the bathroom when she was walking to the den, mumbling a little loud since she had no idea I wasn't in the den. I could tell she wasn't a happy camper when it came to Daddy, so I decided to snoop around to see what I could find out.

It only took a short time for me to discover something about my parents I'd never even considered; they were sexual beings. To me, at that time, sex ended at the ancient age of thirty—until I listened at Momma and Daddy's bedroom door. They had the old type coil springs on their bed and soon after Momma closed the door those things did some awful squeaking. With my ears glued to the door I could hear just about everything as well as if standing inside the room.

I, of course didn't know enough to properly interpret what I was hearing back then, but now I know a lot about what I was hearing. First, Daddy wasn't big on foreplay; almost as soon as Momma got to the bed I heard conversations along these lines:

"Dammit woman, get your ass out of that thing and get down here and make me hard."

"Honey, why don't you relax and let's just love on each other a bit; you know—kiss and caress each other. Let me rub the inside of your thighs, I'll bet it'll feel as good to you as it does to me, and you know how horny that makes me."

"Shit, you're just too squeamish. You think you're too good to suck my cock. Now get your skinny ass down there and make me hard."

Like I say, those weren't their exact words, but you get the idea. Sometimes I guess Momma got him hard, for I could hear the springs start their song, Momma start to moan and groan about how good it felt, while Daddy would say things like , "take that, bitch; work that ass!"

Sometimes it ended with them climaxing at the same time, judging from the satisfied sounds emanating from behind the bedroom door. Those were the nights Momma would join me to watch TV in a good mood. In other words, like a satisfied woman.

All too often I heard Momma yell, "Nooo—don't go yet. I'm almost there. Nooo—aw shit!" In a few minutes after that I could hear Daddy snoring, and then I had to hurry back to the den, because Momma would be coming out to watch TV with me. These were the days she was all keyed up and even a dumb ass country hick like me knew she was sexually frustrated.

To properly understand what I'm saying you have to keep in mind I was a senior in High School and had never even asked a girl for a date. I was allowed to drive the family car to school and stay for ball practice, and only that because it enabled be to get back home and work in the fields sooner. Dates were out of the question, I didn't have a sister or cousin to sneak a peek at, so all I knew about sex I learned from sneaking behind the school's outer buildings with the other boys to look at dirty magazines, what they said about their exploits, and what I learned from the farm animals. Oh yes, one other thing—from taking a shower after football practice I saw that I was just a little better endowed than most of my teammates. Not by much, you understand, but as I know now a little can make the difference between a Jack and a King.

Anyway, the nights Momma came out frustrated got more and more often while Daddy got harder and harder to live with.

"If your Daddy don't learn to accept his limitations, he either going to have a heart attack or a stroke," she announced one night after I heard Daddy really chewing her out for not being able to get him hard. That night I almost got caught when Momma stormed out the bedroom without waiting for Daddy to go to sleep. I had to scurry to make it to the den and look relaxed before she got there.

"Gosh, Momma," I said when she sat beside me. "You're all keyed up. Why don't you put your feet in my lap and let me rub them while we watch TV?" To my surprise she arranged herself on the sofa so that her head was on the far arm and her feet were in my lap. Her gown was pulled well up on her thighs, giving me the best view of a woman's lower body I'd ever had.

"Oh Robert, that feels so good. I think I'll get you to do it every night." She was joking then, but as it worked out that is just about how things turned out. I was nervous and excited as I massaged her feet and lower legs, but I must have done a good job. Momma fell asleep while I was doing it and turned on her side. In doing so her gown slipped higher showing me more skin. I wished I had nerve enough to rub all the skin I saw, but I was chicken.

Almost every night after that, I'd get to rub her at least sometime before she left to go to sleep. After a month or so of me rubbing her feet she didn't stretch out on the sofa; instead she sat close to me.

"Rub my back, Honey," she requested. We had been hoeing cotton all day and our bodies were protesting to such hard usage. She turned her back toward me and I started massaging it through her gown. "Oh shit," she said, "it just doesn't feel right through my gown." She undid some buttons and slipped her gown off her shoulders and gathered it around her waist, but she kept her back turned so I couldn't see a damn thing except back.

"You don't mind, do you Honey? I know a momma shouldn't let her boy see her half naked, but I'm really tired and your hands feel so good on my naked skin."

"Heck no I don't mind." My big hands would cover most of her back at one time so when I started working on her I could practically see her come unglued.

Maybe I should tell you something about Momma. If this was a fuck story I'd tell you about what a beauty she was, but I'm going to stick with the truth. She was just a forty-year-old farm wife who had worked in both the house and the fields all her life. That kind of life does not make a woman a beauty queen; her skin gets wrinkles and tough, she usually doesn't have time to spend time on makeup or fixing hair or any of the other hundred and one things the average city woman does to remain beautiful. 

That lifestyle does have one plus, it keeps a woman in good shape. Momma had big boobs, shapely legs, not a thin waist but not fat either and, from the back view, she had the shapeliest ass I've seen to this day. When I worked my hands down her back from shoulder to waist, then up each side, letting my fingertips brush the edge of her breast and back down again, I was working in prime real estate.

I expected Momma to make me quit, but instead she just sighed and relaxed against me. Now my hands didn't have free range of her back, but I could still work her shoulder muscles, I just didn't have an excuse to touch her boobs.

We continued watching TV while I rubbed her back until bedtime, then Momma pulled her gown up, fastened it and turned around to kiss me good night and I didn't see a darn thing.

I did get a little bolder; we stood to kiss goodnight and I caught around Momma's waist and pulled her tightly against my body. I had a hard-on and it poked right against her thinly clad body. I could feel her pubic hair rubbing my glans, or at least I imagined I could. 

Momma looked at me funny, then said, "You know better than to do that." Her voice carried very little conviction, so I didn't stop pushing against her or kissing her. I had been kissing her neck and cheeks, but then I saw her breathing quicken. She said, "Stop, we can't do this." Her voice had a high nervous pitch, so I got even bolder and kissed her mouth.

After a moment she returned my kiss, opening her lips and slipping her tongue between mine. My tongue met hers and we explored each other's mouth until Momma finally broke away. She could hardly get enough breath to whisper, "That's enough. I've got to go to your Daddy. He'll be wondering what I'm doing."

It was a weak excuse; I knew Daddy was sound asleep and a stick of dynamite could explode in the room without waking him up. I went along with her excuse anyway, since I didn't have much choice. Besides, I had made major strides toward my goal of making love to Momma.

Yep, you heard me correctly; I wanted to screw my momma. I know it would be incest, and yes, I understood we could both get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out, but I didn't care. I wanted to see how it felt to slip my hard shaft into my wonderful momma's love canal, and I was willing to try anything to find out.

For the next three weeks our life went just about like that; we'd wake up, have breakfast, work the fields all day and then after supper Daddy would insist Momma come to bed with him. They'd close the door and I waited a few minutes before pressing my ear against it. I would sometimes hear the springs start squeaking, but often they didn't. Still I'd hear Daddy make the noise I had come to associate with his cumming. Then then things would get quiet and I'd hear Momma get up and start toward the door. That was my cue to rush back to the den.

On those nights, Momma would almost always be in an awful mood when she joined me on the sofa. I'd give her a good rubdown while we watched TV and by the time we retired for the night she was her jolly old self again, and I'd have had a chance to cop a feel or two. Once I even managed to tweak her nipple with my thumb and forefinger while she pretended she was napping and didn't try to stop me.

Then, one magical day in May my world changed. The night before Momma was even more frustrated than usual when she left the bedroom. She snuggled closer to me than usual and once her hand accidently brushed my cock. I went to bed that night a happy man, and was still on top of the world when I awoke.

When I finished the morning chores and came back into the house for breakfast, Daddy had already left to plow the cotton we'd finished hoeing yesterday. Momma was in an exceptionally good mood. She acted like a school girl when she placed my plate of grits with eggs and three strips of bacon in my place at the table.

When she turned back to the stove to fix her plate I stepped up behind her, slipped my arms around her and cupped her breast, or all of her breast that would fit, in my hands and tweaked her nipples, just like I'd read about in a dirty book.

It had worked out well for the guy in the story, and since Momma had kissed me back last night, I figured I just as well push the envelope and find her limits.




Momma and Me



"Don't," she breathed, catching my hands with hers, but she didn't try to move them. "You...your father will catch us," she stammered, all the while pressing back against me.

"You know daddy's already plowing, Momma. He won't be back until noon." I continued kissing the back of her neck and nibbling on her ears like the guy in the story.

"Now stop! Our breakfast will get cold and I'm hungry." When Momma used that tone, she meant business, so I didn't try to stop her when she twisted out of my arms and fixed her plate. 

As I sat down to eat I was elated. I had gotten further last night and this morning than I ever really expected. Sure, Momma had finally put her foot down, but that didn't mean she wouldn't go further later; especially if Daddy continued with the erection problems I suspected he had.

By the time we had finished breakfast, Momma was back in her jolly mood. 

"Tell you what," she said, "You pick and snap the string beans while I wash clothes, then this afternoon, when the sheets are dry, I'll need you to help make the beds."

I tackled that job with a will. I quickly saw how hovering over the bed with Momma could pay big dividends. By mid-afternoon I had two five gallon buckets of beans picked and snapped, ready for processing next day, Momma had the sheets off the line and Daddy was back plowing in a field about three miles from the house. He wouldn't be interrupting anything Momma and I did.

Since it was hot and Momma was finished with all outside work for the day, she had slipped on a pale yellow sundress made of light material. It was thin, even when it was new, but now, after numerous washings, it was so thin that when Momma stood between me and the light, I could see a clear outline of her body. She was only wearing panties and a bra under that dress. Once, she stood with the sunlight directly behind her and I could see her body almost as clearly as if she was naked.

We started making the bed in their room first. I guess I was so horny I was all thumbs. One side of their bed was against the wall and I couldn't get the sheet fitted just right. Finally, in desperation, Momma told me to get out of the way and let her do it.

I stepped back and Momma crawled on the bed on all fours. When she did, the sundress rode up on her hips and I had a perfect view of her panty covered pussy. Without thinking, I reached over and rubbed my hand from her curly hair up to her cheeks. She jumped like she was shot, but I had the advantage on her.

Using two fingers, I traced the outline of her slit, staying with her as she tried to get away. Not once did she say quit or stop and to tell the truth she wasn't trying all that hard to escape my fingers.

"Oooh, Robert," she moaned and dropped to her stomach. I moved up to a more comfortable position where I could slip my fingers under the leg band of her panties. I really didn't know what I was doing, but I had two fingers as far up her cunt as I could get them, and as I caressed the walls of her canal, she lifted her butt so I had better access to my target. All the time I was stroking her, she was mewing like a kitten, and begging me not to stop.

Believe me stopping was not on my mind. I worked her panties down off her butt and she lifted herself to help me remove them. That way I had greater freedom to massage her as I wanted to, so I added another finger to the two that was already bringing her pleasure.

Quite by accident I discovered, what I now know to be her g-spot, and realized that when rubbed the little peanut feeling place, she went wild. She was moaning and begging and telling me how much she loved me and how good it felt and a bunch of other stuff, while her hips would lift, her butt would clench down on my fingers, and she would work just like she was fucking someone under her. I thought it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

Suddenly she gave a loud moan, shoved her hips down hard on the bed and her inner muscles clamped down on my fingers, held tight for a second, then released and clamped again several times before she groaned and lay perfectly still.

While she was lying still like that I thought it would be a perfect time to relieve my rock hard cock. I slipped my pants and drawers off and straddled her legs, and started slipping my fingers into her puffy red cunt again. She must have been still in la la land because she moaned again about good it felt and lifted her butt to help.

Now's my chance, I thought. I pulled my fingers out, intending to replace them with my cock. It was going good—I touched her labia and tried to push forward.

"No!" she yelled, "we can't do that. God boy, I'm your mother." I knew as soon as I heard the tone of her voice she wouldn't change her mind today.

She did relent just a little. When she saw my cock standing so straight and stiff with its purple head looking like it was going to burst, she took pity on me.

"Here, let mommy help her baby," she said, and then she slid as much of my cock as she could in her mouth and worked back and forth. It didn't take long; just a few minutes and I was filling her mouth with cum. That was the first time I knew a woman would actually swallow that stuff.

After that we cleaned up, put the spare sheets on the bed and by the time Daddy made it home Momma had a hot supper waiting and I had all the chores finished. All during supper Momma giggled like a schoolgirl while we gave each other knowing grins when Daddy wasn't looking.

I got an earful listening at their door that night.

"Damn it Tommy, I need to be fucked long enough to cum!" Was that really my momma talking like that? "I know you can't always get hard, so I don't mind sucking you off, but there's no reason we can't have a little foreplay on the nights you can get it up. That way maybe I could feel like a real woman once in a while."

"Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! That's all you do anymore. If you don't like the way I fuck, maybe you should find some young stud with a big cock to make you feel like a real woman." I couldn't believe Daddy was dumb enough to tell Momma that.

Things got real quiet after that. I stopped listening when I heard him begin to snore, and stopped by the kitchen to pick up a snack before going to the den. It took Momma a lot longer than usual to join me. When she finally did I could tell she had a fresh shower and was really fixed up. Her hair looked like it did when we went to church, her face was made up and she really smelled nice.

I had stretched out on the sofa while waiting and started to sit up but she waved me back down.

"It might be nice to watch TV like this," she said and lay beside me. Of course I had to turn on my left side and she had to lay with her back to me. These days we'd call it spooning, back then I just called it wonderful. I had to use my left arm, which was underneath her to prevent her falling on the floor. That left my right hand free to explore and since I'd decided to see just how pissed off Momma was with Daddy, I started pushing the limits.

I'd had my hand on her pussy this afternoon, so that was my starting point. Lying like we were made it more difficult to get a good feel, but with a little effort I managed to cup my hands between her legs. I could feel her course, curly hair through her panties. Her only reaction was to lift her right leg enough to allow better access. I guess the boys at school were right when they said you could always get a girl again if you got her the first time.

Momma giggled when I kissed her on the earlobe and whispered she was my favorite girl. When I ran my two fingers up and down her slit, she just wiggled and pulled her right leg higher. I assumed she wanted more finger but her panties were getting in the way. Frustrated I hooked my thumb under the leg band and found I could lift it high enough to slip two fingers into her warm juicy slit.

"Awww..." she moaned as I worked them in and out of her love canal. Two fingers worked for short time, but she started saying, "deeper, I need it deeper."

I couldn't get it any deeper if she kept her panties on, so I started tugging them down and to my surprise she tried to help. Between the two of us we soon had her bare assed and I was shoving my fingers in up to my hand and she kept asking for more.

She protested when I quit fingering her long enough to work my dong free, so I slipped two fingers back in. I had her in a frenzied by the time I pulled my fingers out again and pushed my cock against her labia. It was bigger than my fingers and I didn't have I lined up just right, so it slid up her slit, touched her clit and on in her bush. We were lucky the foreskin didn't tangle in her hair. I quickly pulled back, and guiding it with my hand, I hit her hole dead center and felt myself engulfed in the warmest, slickest, silky feeling glove I could imagine.

"Noooooo—we can't. I'm your mother. Playing around was okay, but it's not right for you to screw me." Her protest carried no conviction, especially since she was working her hips in sync with my movements. That's another thing I learned that day that has served me well over the years: any woman, born before the sixties, will probably say no the first time, even if they are helping you strip their clothes off.

She lost all interest in anything except screwing when I started long stroking her. Each time I rammed it home she'd grunt and seem to try to hold it with her inner muscles. Of course she couldn't but the action sure felt good and I knew I wouldn't hold out much longer.

"I'm cumming, Momma." I started a series of short rapid strokes.

"Oh yeah, baby! Give it to me! That feels soooo good." Her movement suddenly stopped and I could hold out no longer. I shoved it in as far as I could and held it there while I emptied my balls into her wonderful cunt. I could still feel her pussy muscles clamping and releasing my cock for probably thirty seconds after we climaxed.

"Let's try it doggy style," I suggested after we caught our breath. My teenage body was ready for seconds. We were sitting side by side and my cock was already standing at a forty-five degree angle.

"Oh to be young again," Momma said, grasping my cock and giving it a few strokes. "Do you see how late it is?" She pointed to the clock atop the TV. "What are you going to do if your daddy wakes up and comes in here?"

I shrugged, I really hadn't given it any consideration, and I said so.

"Well, you better. He might not be able to do anything much, but I assure you, he'll take a dim view of anybody else ploughing in his field."

"I...I," all I could do was stammer. 

"Oh don't look so down hearted. It's not the end of the world, we aren't about to stop now—not when I finally found a man that screws like you do. We just have to be careful, that's all—that and start using rubbers."

In that time and place if you went in a store and asked for condoms they wouldn't know what the hell you were talking about.

Momma went off to sleep in Daddy's bed while I crawled between my sheets with visions of Momma's hairy cunt dancing in my head. I must have been more tired than I thought, for I fell asleep jacking off.

I awoke next morning with Daddy banging on my door yelling for me to rise and shine. I hurriedly dressed and rushed to the table, where Momma had a big plate of grits, fried eggs and sausage links waiting for me. If I tried to eat that stuff now, my wife would have a fit, but in those days we didn't know any better and I really believe we enjoyed life more.

Anyway, while I wolfed down my food Daddy was telling me all the things he expected me to do while he and Uncle Ned went fishing over at the Santee lakes. I was elated and one look at Momma told me she was too. When Daddy and Uncle Ned went fishing over there, they never got home before midnight. No, they didn't claim to fish that long, but an old classmate of theirs owned the bait shop that had a big space in back where beer was sold and girls were available.

If Momma and I hurried and finished our chores, we'd have lots of time to finish what we started last night. It only seemed right—Daddy and Uncle Ned sampling a little extra something and Momma getting her chance too.

It wasn't quite lunch time and I was on my last chore of the day—giving the cows a bale of hay, when Momma walked in the barn looking for eggs. We had a couple of hens that seemed to insist of hiding their eggs among the bales of hay. Back then we used the square bales stacked in tiers so you could climb up and get the top ones. 

I looked around just in time to see Momma trying to climb to the place her favorite hen loved to use; I was staring right at her well rounded bare butt. Apparently she had removed her panties, knowing we would be alone. My cock swelled in a flash and she was still trying to climb when I jumped up behind her, grabbed her hips, and tried to enter her just like a stallion.

Like a stallion I missed several stabs, mostly because she was laughing at my attempts. Finally she reached back, caught my cock and guided it in, just like we'd both seen Daddy do when people brought their mares to be serviced by our stallion. When she rubbed my cock across her lips, I neighed like the horse does and shoved it all the way.

She was laughing so hard she later said she cried. She may have, but she wiggled her ass with my cock planted as deep as I could get it and I didn't last much longer than the stallion. She held still while I pumped shot after shot into her.

"Damn!" she said when I had pulled it out and she felt it running down her thigh. "We forgot about the rubbers again. How am I going to keep your daddy hard long enough to convince him it's his, if you knock me up? Do you think he'll buy a line of crap about doing it when he was drunk?"

"Probably, but that means you'll have to get him drunk and you know he seldom drinks around the house."

"Yeah, well if my belly starts swelling we'll have to do something. From now on we don't touch each other without a rubber on this thing." She kissed its head and stuffed it back in my pants. "Now come on—get up there and find those eggs so we can go in the house and do things right."

Her slightest wish was my command; especially since it meant the sooner I found the eggs the sooner I could search for her eggs. We finished up the work, and since both of us needed a shower we saved water by doing it together. I tell you, you haven't showered until you do it with Momma. 

As soon as we soaped up and rinsed it off, she dropped to her knees, took my cock in her mouth and I swear to you, I think she took the whole thing own her throat. In later years some gal named Linda made a bunch of money doing the same. Heck, if she made a guy feel any better than Momma made me feel, it would kill him.

After Momma sucked all she could get out of me, it was my turn. I knelt down and she pushed her pussy out to help me get to it better with my tongue. She showed me where to lick her clit and while my tongue teased that not so little nub, I worked a finger in her then two. She moaned and screamed about how good it felt until she finally shuddered and quieted down. We finished cleaning up and had a sandwich and potato chips for lunch before we went into my bedroom. She said it just didn't seem right to screw me on their bed. 

That worked out good, since my room has a full wall mirror that Momma put there because she said it made my room look bigger. I don't know about that, but as soon as I glanced over and saw Momma's full reflection stretched out on my bed naked, I knew Momma had spent her money on a worthwhile cause.

Unless you've experienced it, you don't know how sexy it is to see your naked woman flat on her back, her legs spread with you between them, your cocked planted as deep as it will go and the two of you enjoying a long, slow ride. Every so often we'd stop moving entirely and just lay together, still coupled while we'd kiss or I'd hunch over so I could suck her brownish looking nipples until they stood out like marbles. 

I'm not sure how long we screwed like that, but it seemed to last forever. Forever did have an end though and it came right after she wrapped her legs around my back and started hunching me. That was too much for me; I started long stroking her, then as the pressure began to build I shifted to the quick short stroke until she moaned that she was cumming and I soon followed.

We lay there, side by side until we caught our breath. I wanted to go again, but Momma reminded me she wasn't a teenager any more. She assured me we'd have many more times before I graduated and left for college. She knew what she was talking about, but neither of us dreamed or wanted it to work out like it did. 

That night, while Daddy and Uncle Ned were driving home half lit, a log truck, driven by a guy drunker than them, crossed the center line and cured all three of them of alcoholism. The patrolman who investigated the accident was an old school mate of Momma's. He took one look at the truck on Daddy's side of the road and didn't even notice the smell of beer on Daddy and Uncle Ned's clothes.

A good lawyer got Momma enough settlement she could send me to college and still live okay for the rest of her life. She rented out the farm, but still lived in the house. She said it held so many memories; she just couldn't bear to leave. Of course being away from the prying eyes of neighbors didn't hurt.

I did my best to help Momma add to those memories up until the time I left for college. We never did move our stuff out of our rooms, but we still slept together every night. That way my brother Tommy, now stationed at Charleston and close enough to come home regularly never got suspicious. However, after I started college, I stayed on campus during the week and sometimes on weekends, but only if Tommy would be there.



Momma Bear



Once in a while, I write a story that is partially from my own life experience, and this is one of those. It's not a stroke story, although there is sex in it. Mostly, it's a look at two mature people and the reasons why, even with strong mutual attraction, they can't stay together. 

I won't be reading comments written about this story. I quit doing that after getting flamed for some early stories by people hiding behind the "anonymous" mask. I don't care to read indictments of me personally just because someone didn't like what a character in my story did. But I will read and respond to emails about this story or any other. It takes a bit of courage to write to an author, but it takes only a coward to leave anonymous slander.

*****

I've been widowed for a few months now. Some people say you have to wait a year or more to begin dating after your mate dies, but at 64, time is precious. I retired to take care of my wife, and I'd watched her deteriorate for 14 months, so I was ready to get on with life. Besides, she didn't want me to shrivel up and be miserable. 

It's not that I am desperate for a woman, but I do enjoy the company of intelligent women, and my life these days is mostly solitary. I also still like sex, and for various reasons, my wife of nearly 30 years had not been able to have normal intercourse for over 10 years. Oh, we found other things to do, but it had been a long time since I'd felt that unmatched feeling of sliding my full length into a warm wet pussy. As the saying goes, I'm old but I'm not dead.

So, when I met Susan on a dating site, my fantasy life started to ramp up. When I met her in person, I was incredulous that such a person was out there and unattached. No, she wasn't a skinny, ravishing beauty. Actually, she was pretty far from that physical description. A nice face, quite a bit of extra weight, hair that had no hint of gray, and a year older than myself. She had been widowed for five years. 

It turned out that we had quite a few acquaintances in common. She rents a room in the home of a couple. He is someone I've known since the mid 1970s, and she is Susan's best friend. Susan dated at least one man I knew pretty well in years past, and we found all kinds of social connections going back as many as 40 years ago. We may have actually been at the same parties in those days, but we never met. 

She had always been involved in the arts as an actress and playwright, and as everyone should know, that is a recipe for poverty in your old age. Her Social Security check is insultingly small, and she has no savings. Despite that, she gives the impression of self sufficiency, although her life is on the precipice. The art she creates these days is exciting and demonstrates a lot of talent, but it is not being hung in galleries or selling for vast amounts of money. Truth be told, she is really set up for disaster. She needs, as well as deserves, someone to take care of her.

Susan is almost bereft of family. She has lost all her relatives except for the daughter she bore in her late 30's. I knew they were incredibly close, although I didn't realize all the ramifications of that closeness. Susan, I found out too late, is a real Momma Bear. 

Savannah, the daughter, is also in the art world, which in practical terms means she works a variety of waitressing jobs to support herself. Savannah is a 26 year old beauty and talented singer/songwriter/performer. None of that translates to economic security. 

Savannah should be married to a lawyer or banker by now. She is about 5'9", with dark red hair, beautiful skin, and a face so beautiful it would stop you in your tracks. However, she suffers from self-image problems. Her shyness is interpreted by eligible men her age as haughtiness and unapproachability. The only guys with enough courage to pursue her are the ones who hit on every woman. Consequently, she winds up getting hurt, which contributes to her low self-image.

(Let me stop here and tell you that I don't get involved with the daughter in this story. It's the mom I love. If you're looking for that hookup to happen, it won't. After all, this is a story based on reality, not male fantasy.)

Younger folks probably won't appreciate this fact as much as I do, but you have to be mentally in sync with your lover or your relationship will be miserable and probably not last long. Sex is very important, but you only spend a fraction of your time making love to a lover. The rest of the time, you have to talk about something, go places together, watch the same movies, cook and clean together, and do all those other activities together. The best sex in the world is worth very little if you have to spend your life with someone you despise in order to keep the sex going. 

Susan is someone with whom I could happily spend every waking minute. We both hate sports. We have the same political beliefs. We're spiritual but don't subscribe to any religion. We read books on different subjects and teach each other what we learn. We appreciate the same kinds of movies. She had the potential to become my best friend, and we hadn't even kissed.

I didn't push the physical part because the mental part was so good that I was afraid to mess things up. For several weeks we dated, and I never made a move. We were going out up to five nights a week, and I hadn't even tried to give her a peck at the door when I dropped her off. Then one night as I dropped her off, she put her arms around me and gave me a good solid kiss as I opened her front door. My old cock got hard in seconds. We said a few words, and I watched her walk in smiling, and she closed the door.

From then on, we would hug and kiss often. Typically, we'd be sitting on the couch after a movie ended, and I'd hold her and kiss her gently, never making a move to touch her in one of the "danger zones". One night fairly early on in our relationship, we had this conversation:

"Sweetie, if you don't stop me, I'm going to keep going. I love to kiss you, and I want more. Actually, I want all of you. But I love being with you, so I will do whatever it takes to keep seeing you."

"Steve, I want us to have a sexual relationship, too. But I'm scared. I'm scared for you to see my body, and I'm scared to risk my feelings. I think you're a great guy, and I can't believe my luck after all this time. I had given up on finding a guy like you. Just give me some time. I really want us to have a playful sex life together."

That last bit has stuck with me, the bit about being playful. I think I may have finally learned what she meant by it, but the word struck me as odd at the time.

Finally, Susan let me know that she was ready to move our romance to the bedroom. I did things up right. There were flowers, a light meal with candle light and mood music, a romantic movie, and some kissing and cuddling on the couch before I led her by the hand to my bedroom. There, with fresh sheets on the bed and a candle on the bedside table, I undressed her and eased her into bed, with many kisses to her face and shoulders. To be safe, I'd dropped a Viagra an hour earlier, although I was pretty sure it wouldn't be required. 

You know how this goes, I'm sure. Our hands roamed over each other's naked body, I kissed her voluptuous tits, and I began working my way down to the ultimate prize. In my marriage, cunnilingus had always been a part of lovemaking. In later years, it was as close as I got to intercourse. My wife loved how I ate her, and I was sure I could give Susan satisfaction with my mouth. I got as far as her navel before she stopped me. 

"No, please, not that."

There followed a short discussion wherein she told me that oral sex tickled too much, and that she didn't want me to do it. She said she was happy to take me in her mouth, if I liked, but she didn't want the favor returned. I asked for just a taste, thinking I could win her over if I showed her my fantastic technique, but she declined. 

There went that plan. What was I supposed to do now? My tongue was my ace in the hole, so to speak. It was my best shot at making her so horny she would be hooked on me, and now that shot was, well, shot. So, I fell back on a little finger action while she gently stroked me, her hands lubed up and feeling delicious. Soon, there was nothing more to do but put my cock in her.

Susan seemed to be enjoying things as I slid inside her. She moaned softly, closing her eyes and turning her head up and to the side. I moved slowly, mindful of the fact that older women have very tender pussies, and that Susan probably hadn't been with a man for some time. I had the nerve to whisper to her, "What can I do for you, honey?"

Never opening her eyes, she raised her arms above her head and said, "You can just pretty much take me and have your way with me." 

I took that to mean she wanted it harder, and so I stepped it up, although it was a struggle not to come too quickly. I held her wrists down and plowed into her steadily and with some force, trying to wait for a signal that she was close to cumming. She looked beautiful and so sexy under me, and I told her so. She squirmed a little and pulled her knees up to give me deeper penetration. Finally, I could hold out no longer, and I let her know by my groans that I was cumming, hoping to trigger a climax in her, but I could detect none. 

I held myself above her on shaky arms until steady breathing returned, and then I rolled off her and pulled her to me. I asked again what I could do for her, and she said she was fine, which I hopefully took to mean that she had come, too. I really wanted this night to cement us as a couple. I wanted her in my bed from then on, and I wanted her to desire me as much as I did her. She was very sweet and lovable after sex, but I still had nagging doubts about whether I had truly won her affections. 

So, that began our intimacy. 

All during this time, I had been taking her to dinner and events, all at my expense, of course. I was happy to pay. After all, I'm the one who could afford it, and she was such good company always. In fact, I looked for ways to make her life better by doing things for her that she didn't have the money to do for herself. After Savannah had a tire blow out on the highway, stranding her many miles from where we were, I insisted on buying a new set of tires for her old truck. While I was at it, I had the truck inspected and got new brakes for it. I got the special synthetic oil and did an oil change on Susan's car, which was in fair shape otherwise. I bought an expensive telescope because she was interested in astronomy, which I have a bit of knowledge about, and I took her to a hill out in the country where we set it up and watched star clusters, galaxies, and satellites in the night sky. We saw movies and went to nice restaurants several times a week. 

Susan did things for me, too. She brought me lovely paintings she had created. She cooked for me some. She introduced me to interesting people and got us invitations to a couple of great parties. She set up my first encounter with bubble tea, for which I'm grateful. There were lots of other nice things she did for me. We were good together.

Once in awhile, we had sex, and it was always good for me. As smart and eloquent as she is, she was not very helpful when I asked what she wanted me to do for her sexually. I got her a vibrator, which she used some and seemed to like, but she never allowed me to get my mouth close to her vagina. 

A few times, I noticed a urine smell on myself after sex, and I decided that part of her problem with oral sex was that she probably leaked a little and was embarrassed about that. That may gross some people out, but it's just life. It is what it is, as they say. I didn't care about a little urine smell, and I would have eaten her anyway, if she had let me. As you get older, you get these kinds of things. Luckily, I don't have much wrong with me yet, but I will, unless I get hit by a bus tomorrow. 

(Before I tell you the story about Savannah, I should mention that, in addition to the money I was happily spending to have good times with Susan, I had loaned her $150 at one point for art supplies. That is important not for the amount, which is fairly small, but for a situation I will relate later in this tale.)

Then there came a crisis with Savannah, and I stepped in to help again. Now, I wish I hadn't, but I really thought I was strengthening our bond. Susan's daughter was about to be homeless, through no real fault of her own. The economy stinks for young people these days, and housing is expensive in our city. I have a garage apartment that is unoccupied, and so I offered it to Savannah rent free for as long as needed. They gladly accepted. I had a bunch of stuff stored in the apartment, and it took the better part of 2 days to deal with that and clean it up enough to be habitable. 

Savannah moved in, and life went on. At one point, there were problems in the bathroom that caused me to hire a plumber to clean the drain. I put in a new commode at that point, and there was a lot of cleanup. Otherwise, I wasn't in the apartment at all for a couple of months. In that time, Savannah and her 2 cats (I hadn't counted on cats being there) were in and out of there at all hours, but that didn't bother me. She was off-and-on with a boyfriend (another loser), and sometimes she wouldn't be home for several days. She's an adult, so what she does is fine with me. 

One day, after a heavy rain, I found her quilt out on the sidewalk, soaking wet. I don't know why she left if out there. I told Susan about it, and she told me it was an heirloom. I took the quilt and washed and dried it, and then slipped in and lay it on her bed. At that point, I noticed that the apartment was pretty junky, which didn't sit well, but I let it go. It seemed to me that Savannah was certainly not living up to her potential, which is not surprising, given her emotional and economic problems.

Savannah was soon away more than she was home. Apparently, she spent lots of nights at her shit head boyfriend's house. His thing, apparently, was running her down emotionally while screwing her. Not a good situation for her, but not something I could really do anything about.

Thanksgiving was approaching, and my daughter from out of town was visiting with her family. She's not my biological daughter, but I love them all just as if she were. I'm also friends with my wife's first husband and his (3rd) wife, and we all met the Sunday before Thanksgiving at his house for a meal. As often happens in family situations, there arose a shouting match between my daughter and her bio dad, and the result was a lot of tears and a big change in plans. They were all coming to stay at my house for the week instead of his house, which put my plans with Susan on hold. 

In addition, I had tension building up over my mother, who had not spoken to me since my wife's funeral. We were all invited to Thanksgiving dinner at her house, and I was stressed about that. I had to go, even though I knew the old lady hated me and had for years. She blamed me for corrupting her daughter's religious and political beliefs, which is demonstrably untrue. 

So the stage was set, and the first act began with a slow running sink in the kitchen. With so many people in the house, some food had probably gone down the kitchen sink and made it run slowly. This reminded me of the toilet overflow problems I'd had a couple of months previously in the garage apartment, so I went out to check. Savannah had not been home for several days, so I went in to flush the commode and make sure it was running properly. As I opened the door, a cat shit smell hit me. The place was wrecked to the point it almost looked like it had been vandalized. In the bathroom, an entire roll of toilet paper had been destroyed by cat claws. 

As I began to clean things up, my daughter poked her head in to see what I was up to. (Maybe she'd heard me cursing.) She kind of cocked her head and gave me a look that said she thought I might be losing my mind. Was I an idiot for providing a rent free apartment to a woman who returned the favor by trashing it? The obvious answer was yes.

As I cleaned, things got even worse. Empty and half full beer cans, shoes and clothes strewn about, dirty kitty litter, and then the topper. An open can of beans, nearly full, with bugs crawling all over it. I had been humiliated in front of my daughter, too. I finished the clean up and made the call to Savannah's mother that was to end my relationship.

"Susan, I know this may damage our relationship, but the apartment is a wreck, and it was filled with trash. I have just spent half an hour cleaning up. There was an open can of beans attracting vermin. I want you to tell your daughter that she is no longer welcome here."

Susan's reaction was chaotic and emotional, but it boiled down to "don't do this to me" and ended with a hangup. She tried to call back several times, but I let it go, thinking things could only get worse by talking at this point. I won't go into the vicious email attacks on me by the Momma Bear over the next week, and what I considered to be my measured and honest responses. 

I was in no mood to back down. Would Susan even want a guy who was so spineless that he would let a 26 year old woman abuse his generosity and show not the least common courtesy? I had not asked to be repaid for anything I'd done. But I had never even gotten a single thank you from Savannah for any of it. Okay, she's shy. But even a shy person can show some gratitude. I'm kind of shy myself sometimes, but if somebody does me a favor, I say thanks and I don't piss on their shoes.

I won't go into much of what happened in the next few weeks, largely because not much did happen. After the initial emails, I quit hearing from Susan at all. The only notes I got were to tell me she was coming over to get Savannah's stuff, which got postponed a few times. Finally, the only thing left of hers was a bed, and after several false starts, she got a friend with a pickup to come by and take the bed. In all these weeks, I had not seen Susan. I missed her, but I still felt justified in what I'd done, although I regretted the way I'd handled it. I really regretted that I had made that phone call without thinking it through first.

The thing it taught me is not to get in between Momma Bear and her cub, no matter who you are. I could have been really good for Susan. I have the economic stability she desperately needed, and I truly love her, even now. But love is not always enough, as I know well. To come back to me, Susan would have had to take my side, in some sense, against her daughter. I would have made it easy for her. If I had gotten a simple apology from Savannah, I would have forgiven her and even let her move back in, but there was never any word from Savannah to me. And as much as I miss Susan, I have enough self respect to stand firm and not make this out to be my fault. 

She did try to patch things up to a level of friendship. I was invited to her house to watch a TV series we had started together, but on the day of the show, she wrote telling me that she had been so stressed thinking about me coming over that she was backing out of the invitation. So, I suggested that we meet, at a time of her choosing, at some neutral location. I'd buy her dinner, we'd talk, and maybe we would resolve our differences and end as friends, or at least not enemies. 

I walked into the restaurant and found her already seated in a booth. She didn't stand up or look like she expected me to hug her, so I sat down opposite. We both slowly acknowledged the tension between us, but we somehow made it through the meal, although neither of us felt much like eating. I suggested early on that we not try for a serious discussion in the restaurant, but that we talk in my car afterwards. 




Momma Bear



Our "real" conversation consisted mostly of a rehash of events. I told her that all I ultimately wanted was for Savannah to say, "Sorry 'bout that," and we could have resolved the whole issue. Susan said that Savannah had actually written me a letter of apology, but that she'd told her daughter that it wouldn't do any good, and so not to send it. I said I was still open to an apology, but Susan seemed to be more focused on defending her daughter by attacking me for my insensitivity. In the end, there was no way back. Susan thought that I could never love her daughter, and she said Savannah was "terrified" of me. That last bit floored me, since I'm about the most harmless old guy there ever was. We parted that evening with a simple hug and a promise not to be enemies. It was not a promise of friendship, though.

A couple of weeks later, I got an email from Susan in which she mentioned the $150 "loan" that I never expected to be repaid. She insisted that she would pay me back in installments. She was obviously still feeling indebted to me and wanted to square things up, although from my point of view, she owed me nothing. However, a bit of an idea was forming, so I called her instead of replying to her email.

"Susan, I don't consider that you owe me anything. The money was a gift."

"Well, I asked you if I could borrow the money for art supplies, and I consider it a loan. I don't have it now, but I want you to know that I will pay you back. I need to pay you back."

"How about a trade instead. You don't have to pay me in cash."

"...what would, how would that work? What do I have to trade? Do you want me to watch your dogs while you go out of town, or something?"

"I'm not planning any trips. What I'd really like is to enjoy your company once, like I used to."

She paused.

"You mean you want sex? Is that it? You want me to be your whore? Pay ME for sex? You must really be desperate." She chuckled a little.

Susan usually got right to the point, as she did this time.

"Sweetheart, I'll make it easy on you. I'll pick you up, cook for you, and we can cuddle up on the couch. We can kiss a little like we used to do. We don't even have to have sex. I just want to be close to you for awhile."

"And that would cancel my debt? Just a date. Steve, I wouldn't feel right about that. If it's sex you want, $150 will probably buy you a much younger woman. Maybe even twice."

I saw my opening, and I pressed my advantage. I was in no mood to be too generous.

"Okay, fine. We'll have two dates, and we'll have sex. That's a fair trade. You won't be cheating me. That's well worth $150."

She was silent for a few seconds. I could tell she was mulling it over. Maybe the idea excited her a little. I hoped so.

"I'll have to think about it. Wouldn't you just rather have the money? I can get it to you in the next couple of months, probably."

"Susan, I'd rather have you in my bed, twice. But, if it's not worth it to you, I'll wait for you to get the cash. Or, you can keep it and we'll forget the whole thing."

Two days later, I got an email.

"I can come over Friday evening, if that's okay. I'll be there at 7PM, and I expect to leave by 9PM. That's $37.50/hr, which is more than I ever made in my life, so I'm going to give it a try."

Short and to the point. That was Susan. 

I picked Susan up that Friday evening and took her to my home. She was wearing the alpaca shawl I'd bought her for her birthday and wearing a little more makeup than usual. She looked ready. At home, the scene was set. I had prepared a beautiful salad and presented it on a candle lit dining table. A Loreena McKennitt CD was playing in the next room. 

After dinner and small talk, I pulled her chair out and marched her to the living room, where we sat next to each other on the couch. We kissed a while and then I came up on my knees over her to hold her face and kiss her with as much love as I felt. She seemed to flush, and her breathing was deep. 

At last, I stood, took her hand, and led her down the hallway to my bedroom, which was lit by a single scented candle. I kissed her again and began removing her clothes. When we were both naked, I whispered to her, "Tonight, you're mine. I'll do with you whatever I want to do." I thought she melted into me just a bit more when I said that.

She turned toward the bed, but I walked her to the master bathroom and turned on the shower.

"Steve, I'm clean. You don't need to bathe me."

"Hush. You do as I say tonight."

When the water was steaming, I led her into my shower, which is large enough to have a broad seat opposite the shower head. I turned her so the hot water hit her on the shoulders and neck, where I knew she was very sensitive. I rubbed her with my hands, fondling her whole body, head to foot. I avoided her most private parts, but I paid special attention to her boobs and ass cheeks. 

In a few minutes, I seated her on the bench and knelt between her legs. With the shower wand in my hand, I sprayed water from her shoulders down through her spread legs. Susan leaned back against the wall, her eyes closed. Eventually, I worked the shower head lower until it was directly on her pussy, and she seemed to be loving it.

The idea for this shower came to me when I thought about her little urine leakage problem. With water constantly running between her legs, she should be less self conscious about that, so I gently raised her legs over my shoulders and put the wand in her hand, so she could direct it as she wished. Amidst the spray, I began to eat her pussy. I trailed my tongue all over her pussy and anus, and she moaned louder than I'd ever heard her do before. I took my time, poking my tongue as far as I could inside her, then replacing it with a finger while my tongue found her clit. 

When Susan erupted, there was no doubt that she'd really cum hard this time. She was slumped against the wall, and I think if I'd not been holding her up, she would have slid off the bench and onto the floor. 

In a few minutes, I helped her to her feet and out of the shower, drying her off with the fluffy yellow towel I'd picked out for the occasion. She wasn't saying anything as I led her to the bed and lay her down. Crawling in beside her, my cock stiffening, she put her hands down there and gave me that super light touch of hers that was so arousing. 

In a few minutes, I took her hands and moved them above her head, and she opened her eyes, questioning me. 

"Tonight you're mine, and you do what I say," I repeated, stone-faced, as I attached the soft restraints to her wrists, binding her to the iron bed frame. Her eyes widened, but still she didn't speak.

Was this what she meant by a "playful" sexuality all those weeks before? She had been an actress her whole life. Did she crave sex with this kind of drama? I hoped so, and I would find out. 

Kneeling between her knees, I applied a liberal coating of lube to her pussy, my fingers finding their way inside her. I looked up to see the excitement in her eyes as she wondered what was coming next. In a moment of daring, I began applying lube to her anus, and I inserted one finger in her ass. I didn't intend to fuck her ass, but I wanted her to wonder about that and experience the chill of expectation. The loudest moan I had yet heard from her came as my index finger entered her. I looked up, and her head was rolling side to side, her eyes closed. I had thought of making her wear a mask, but now I was glad I could watch her eyes.

With Susan's calves on my forearms, I leaned forward and pushed slowly and deliberately into her pussy. I was so turned on that I had to be careful not to spill my cum in her prematurely. I disguised my attempt at self control by seeming to exert my control over her. I also bit down on my tongue until it was just painful, trying to move concentration away from the impulse in my cock to spray her insides.

Seeing her under me, in the candle light, her face contorted, her hands bound, her torso pushing back against me, was the most erotic image. Never in my married life had I had such an experience. In fact, I'd never tied a woman up. It was a foreign idea to me, but with Susan, I desired it because I felt that she desired to be taken that way. 

At one point, I nearly came, but I pulled out in time. This near-cum diminished my need to explode and allowed me to be more forceful in my penetration. She seemed to be lost in sexual bliss. I don't know what images she was seeing. Maybe it was someone else fucking her in her mind. I don't really care, because it was me feeling what I was feeling, and it was me fueling her fantasies. 

I rolled her onto her right side, her left knee drawn up and resting on a pillow. I worried a little bit that her arms were getting tired, but I thought she was probably okay. I fucked her scissor style, going deeper in her than ever, my hands kneading her ample ass and holding on to her ankle as if in restraint. I fingered her asshole a little. If I'd wanted to, I could have pulled out of her pussy and forced my way into her asshole easily, but I didn't. Maybe that would come some other time, but I wanted to mark her deep in her pussy with my sperm. However, I couldn't resist giving her a potential ass-fucking to think about.

"Tonight, you're mine", I said, as I fingered her asshole. "Tonight, I'll do whatever I want to you. You can't deny me. I own your body, and I will fuck you as I like."

I hardened my thrusts and pushed my cock as far into her as I could. She was grunting now, with her mouth open. I was pretty sure she had cum twice since I put my cock in her, and now was my turn to let go. With a roar that began in my lungs and ran down through my gut, I slammed into her and held as my essence pumped into her womb. As I spurted, I began to hammer into her again until I was completely drained. I fell on the bed beside Susan, reaching up long enough to release her wrists. I pulled her sweaty body to me and dozed. 

When I came back to consciousness, I got a hot wet wash rag and cleaned her up. We didn't talk much as we dressed and I drove her home. I went to open her car door, but she was out already and walking toward the house. She seemed to be sobbing as she opened her front door and went in without saying goodbye.

The next afternoon, I found a letter from Susan in my mailbox. She must have come by that morning and dropped it off. In it was $75 and a short note:

"Steve, I can't do that again. Here's the money I owe you. Goodbye, Susan"

I put the money in my pocket. We were square now.

That was weeks ago, and I've had no further communication. The lessons of all this are clear as glass to me. Don't get between the Momma Bear and her cub, because there is nothing you can do after that to fix things up. And, love is not always enough.



Momma Bird



"Yes honey, I'll wear the black one." Lacey cooed into the phone. She was having a hard time concentrating on getting her make up just so while her husband described in lurid and lewd details exactly how he was going to take her when she got home from her business trip. That wouldn't happen for another three days. "With the heels you got me for Valentines Day." Beast that he was he loved seeing just how worked up he could get her when she was away, the only blessing Lacey had now was she was already off work for the evening. Normally he liked to whisper in her ear while she drove to work and she'd have to sit through her meetings hoping nobody could see how flushed she was. Worse sometimes he'd send her pictures of his glorious body.

"I've got to go. Sara wants go out for a few drinks to unwind. It might the only chance we get while we're here. Boss man has us on a pretty tight schedule over here." Lacey said as she finished getting her make up just right. "Goodnight Love, I'll see you soon." Lacey made a loud smooching noise before hanging up and dropping her phone into her purse. 

Lacey smiled and took one last look in the mirror. She wasn't quite the 'hard body' she'd been in high school but only her husband minded that and he was smart enough to keep it to himself most of the time. She'd never really been comfortable with the body that five years of running track had produced, she'd been the only girl in school who wore a regular bathing suit to cover up her abs instead of her gut. You could only see them when she was wet but getting wet was a normal part of swimming so she always went covered up. 

Now that she was six years out of high school and track was replaced with three times a week in the gym her stomach had softened to a still trim and sexy belly, just not one her husband could trace the lines with his tongue. Her breasts had filled out a little as well. Harold didn't seem to mind that change at all and he was overjoyed that her ass had a little bounce in it now. She was wearing the same little black dress she'd worn when they met but now she filled it out much better stretching the fabric in all the right places.

"You ready yet Lacey?" Julia called from the next room. 

"Yes," Lacey stepped out of the bathroom turning around for Julia, "-how do I look?" 

The older blonde was wearing a smiled. "You look amazing dear." She snatched up the red leather purse to go with the vibrantly red dress she'd chosen. "Come one, I want to get there while drinks are still half off." 

Lacey hoped that she looked as good as Julia did when she was in her fifties. She was the kind of woman that had helped coin the term MILF and she knew it. Unlike a lot of women childbirth had done Julia a lot of favors widening her formerly waifish hips into shapely grippable curves. It had also replaced her just more than a handful breasts with the kind of tits that turned heads, male and female alike. Just to pass the time she lean into through a doorway to ask trivial questions in her low cut blouses. Her blood red knee length dress did a fantastic job of showing off her body. 

Lacey was actually happy that her husband wasn't around to see Julia dressed up. Not because she cared about him looking at other women, she knew he did it and he was usually pretty discreet about it. He wasn't quite as low key when he caught her looking at a woman. A threesome was one of the things Harold had always wanted to experience and never had so he never hesitated to comment when she was obviously slipping back into her curious college mentality. There weren't a lot of people in the world that would say no to an opportunity to kiss Julia and Lacey could not count herself amongst them even if the woman was more than double her age.

The nearest bar was a fifteen minute cab ride from the hotel they were staying at. Fifteen minutes of Julia promising her husband the most mind blowing sex of his life time and putting on a show for the driver at the same time.

Julia insisted on sitting at the bar and Lacey reluctantly allowed herself to be led to the bar. It took less than a half hour before Lacey admitted that sitting at the bar was a better plan than her plan of staking out one of the relaxing corners. It was the first time she'd been at the bar since she got married and during those three years she'd forgotten just how eager men were to buy a pretty lady a drink. 

She and Julia were discussing the job when a handsome young man in a black silk shirt and red tie sat down beside the two of them Julia with a smug smile. "Hello ladies. Would you mind terribly if I got you each a drink, I hate to drink alone." Lacey rolled her eyes, she'd seen his type before dozens of times. He thought he was God's gift women. And not entirely without warrant either. He was a handsome man with a strong square jaw that would have looked perfect on a poster for an action movie, especially with the 'I couldn't bother shaving this morning' stubble he was sporting. His shirt did nothing to conceal his broad shoulders either. Julia crossed her legs towards him and accepted his offer for both of them. He had a slightly South American Accent that made every word he spoke sound exotic and sensual. 

"Thank you, it's a pleasure to have a drink with a two beautiful women. May I ask what brings you and your," he paused slightly looking them over. Lacey couldn't tell if it was rehearsed for dramatic effect or genuine but she couldn't deny the slight flutter he gave her while he spoke, "-sister, here?"

He wasn't the first person to comment that the two ladies bore a certain resemblance to each other. Julia had had the same sporty build as Lacey when before her children had transformed her body. They had matching blue eyes and high cheek bones as well and at the request of her husband Julia had bleached her hair blonde a few weeks back. 

"My daughter actually." Julia replied with a sugary smile. "We're in town on business for a few days."

Daughter? Lacey tilted her head slightly taking a sip from her Long Island Iced Tea. This could turn out to be interesting and even if she was only going to be looking at him Lacey wasn't quite ready to send him on his way yet. "We here with the PR division of Tepestech to film a commercial." It was close enough to true. Lacey was Julia's assistant and Julia was the webmaster for the Tepestech website. 

"Models? I should have guessed." He smiled. "I am very sorry, I completely forgot my manners. I'm Alejandro and you are?" 

"Julia." She extended her hand. Alejandro took it with a flourish and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "And this is my daughter Lacey." 

Alejandro rose from his seat so he could take Lacey's hand and repeat the kiss. "Your perfume is exquisite Lacey. It reminds me of my mother's garden back in Brazil."

Oh, he's good. He's very good. Lacey mused hoping she wasn't blushing too obviously. "Thank you Alejandro." Even his name felt good on her tongue. She had to take a sip from her drink to break away from his gaze. She didn't trust herself not to get lost if she let him continue staring at her. "But we're not the models for the shoot."

"That's a shame. I was hoping I would be able to gaze upon your beauty again in the future instead I shall have to enjoy you both as much as I can before the time comes for us to part." He brought his bourbon to his lips. Lacey casually noticed how closely the drink matched his bronzed skin then making the leap to wonder if tasted that good.

"I guess you will." Julia giggled. 

Losing track of time with the hot blooded Latino was incredibly easy. Lacey stopped trying to keep track of the minutes after a while and instead started measuring the time in drinks. At two Long Island Ice Teas and three shots she had to drag her partner in crime off to the ladies room to freshen up. "Hey mom, I'm headed to the bathroom, would you like to join me?" 

As soon as they were safely out of earshot, "I'm your daughter!" 

Julia beamed her response. "Yes dear, now why don't you behave? My God he's sexy."

Lacey tried to temper her voice but she couldn't quite sound as nonchalant as she wanted to. "Yes he is. I have to get back to the room. A few more drinks and I might do something I'll regret." Lacey wanted to blame it on the drinks but that was just a pleasant excuse. Even without the drinks he would have had her hanging on every word and gesture. With the drinks she was dangerously close to asking him back to the room.

"Well you can go if you want Lacey, but if I don't have a few more drinks with him I might not do something regret it!" The scandal of it lit up Lacey's eyes and scored Julia a light slap on the shoulder. "Don't look at me like that I can't help it that I have a thing for handsome men with smooth tongues." She took a deep breath and dramatically fanned herself.

"But you're married!" Lacey hissed.

"I know. Duncan will love hearing all about it when I get back home." Julia smiled. "Actually give me one second." Julia pulled out her phone and placed it on the sink while she touched up her make up. Duncan picked up after three rings. "Hey honey guess what. . .me and Lacey met the sexist man alive. He looks kinda like that Arabic guy from The Mummy."

"The guy who's on Covert Affairs?" Duncan asked. To Lacey's surprise he didn't sound the least bit jealous. Julia thought for a second then confirmed but pointed out he had longer hair. Hair that she wanted to run her fingers through. "Have fun, I want to hear about it when you get back sexy."

"I might not get to though." Julia said with palpable pout.

"Oh, that's too bad dear. Why not? Your charm isn't fading is it?" Duncan taunted.

"It's not that. Lacey, the new girl, is with me and we're sharing a room!"

"Hey don't blame me! You can get laid if you want!" Lacey retorted a little louder than she'd meant to. It was just the two of them in the bathroom so it didn't really matter but she still meant to whisper. "Don't let me stop you."

"I can't just leave you behind dear. Either we both get laid or neither one of us does." Julia declared. "It just wouldn't be right to leave you all alone. And what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"We're not in Vegas, we're in New York." Lacey replied trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

"Fine, if you're uncomfortable with it I'll send him away and we can finish our drinks in peace. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Julia finished her make up, hung up on her husband and walked back out to the club leaving Lacey alone in the bathroom.

I will not be the stick in the mud with a woman twice my age. Lacey wasn't sure if it was lust, liquor talking but neither of them would let her be outshone by an old lady. Even one who could easily pass for half her age.

When she got back she wasn't sure if Alejandro had moved or if the seats at the bar had just shifted but instead of sitting next to Julia the open seat was right beside him opposite Julia. "I'm sorry Alejandro, we should probably get going." Julia started leaning forward and placing one hand on his thigh.

"What is the problem?" 

"Well nothing Alejandro. I was just telling Mother that it wasn't right for us to keep spending your money here when we have a fully stocked mini-bar back at the hotel." She leaned forward placing her hand on Julia's sliding it up a little just an inch.

Alejandro's lips curled seductively. He finished his drink in a single swallow and placed a couple of bills beneath the glass. Lacey gasped slightly when she noticed that the bills he'd subtly set down were fifty dollar bills. She couldn't remember the last time she went to a bar but there was no way the three of them had racked up a hundred dollars worth of drinks. Lacey quickly found her attention drawn toward something else. Alejandro's black slacks clung perfectly to his firm ass. It was very easy to imagine those muscular thighs pumping back and forth.

Lacey wasn't sure if the ride back to the hotel really took twice as long or if it was just that every second stretched into an eternity crammed into close quarters with Julia and Alejandro. Since she was the smallest one she was stuck in the middle and each of them had a hand on a leg subtly inching her dress up a little higher every time they could. If she hadn't known they had only just met two Long Island Iced Teas and four shots ago Lacey would have sworn the two were working in tandem to get her undressed. The driver seemed to be in on it as well locking his eyes with hers through the rearview mirror. It was impossible to keep her cheeks from lighting up under his scrutiny and their combined lack of decorum and she felt powerless to do anything more than sit perfectly still and let them all assault her body.

When they pulled into up to hotel Lacey was the one who threw a the man a few bills in her rush to scramble out of the cab. She took a few steps before realizing the two hadn't just worked dress up an indecent amount, they had also dragged the top down enough to for the edge of her bra to be visible over the top of her dress and pulling her dress down to cover her grey lace thong just drew more attention to her chest. She picked up the pace to something between a power walk and a trot to get to the relative privacy of the elevator before pulling her dress back up. "You two are beasts." She hissed.

"I am the one to blame Lacey. I could not resist." He brushed his fingers along her cheek tucking her blonde hair behind her ear in the process. You are just so overwhelming."

"Isn't she?" Julia answered slipping behind Lacey pressing her breasts against the younger woman's back. Julia's hands rested on Lacey's hips already working her dress up a few inches before the elevator reached its destination.

It was the first time Lacey had been in the middle of what she could only call a tumble to the room. Two sets of hands eagerly pawing at her body occasionally pinching, squeezing or rubbing was a new experience for her. Two sets of hands were overwhelming yet they were nowhere as tremendous as two sets of mouths working opposite sides of her throat. Lacey's dress was bunched around her waist by the time the door was shut. The only reason the slinky black fabric wasn't on the floor was because Alejandro insisted on pulling it down so his satiny lips could kiss along Lacey's shoulders and Julia was determined to get the dress up high enough that she could side get rid of her Lacey's panties. Calling bunching her dress around her belly like a belt a compromise would imply that Julia or Alejandro had intentionally stopped there instead of that just being the one place it wasn't bothering either of them.

Lacey's legs wobbled beneath her forcing her throw an arm around each of her lovers to keep from toppling over in a heap of entwined limbs. Alejandro's eager mouth found it's way to Lacey's muffling what would have been a scream when Julia's equally rapacious lips made contact with Lacey's nether lips. 

Lacey wrapped her arms around Alejandro's torso crossing over his back and digging her fingers into his firm muscular shoulders. She clutched his unyielding male flesh against her soft submissive female body refusing to let him retreat even an inch from her kiss. Lacey's body contorted into a position she'd regret when she woke up to accommodate Julia's blonde head jammed between her thighs. The older blonde had Lacey on the precipice of an orgasm almost as soon as her tongue made contact with sensitive flesh. 

Alejandro's kiss kept Lacey from crying out in pleasure. It didn't stop her body's expressions. Alejandro didn't' need words to understand what the suddenly savage kiss meant coupled with Lacey clawing at his shoulders. Julia was well enough versed in the human female's various expressions for rapture that Lacey's thighs clamping shut around her head conveyed her desire as clearly as any words. The three remained locked in place until Lacey finally unwound from the two and stared blankly at the ceiling.

The vulgar cacophony of noises emitted by her partners eventually brought Lacey back from her leave of senses. Beside her on the bed Julia was completely nude save for her white lace bra and white strapped heels. She was straddling Alejandro's head. It was impossible to see what she was doing behind the curtain of blonde locks bobbing and down with her head. It wasn't difficult at all to hear her alternating between moaning and slurping noisily and Alejandro's tongue waggling inside her. Lacey watched the two and immediately felt her body warming again. 

Lacey pulled her dress off stripping down to just her heels and slid beneath one of Alejandro's legs so she was staring up at Julia. No invitation was necessary, Lacey wrapped her lips around his scrotum sucking. Lacey clutched one thigh keeping Alejandro's flesh between her pursed lips. Julia's eyes were lit with lust. The sight of Julia's lips stretched taut around Alejandro's pulsing golden member was instantaneously seared onto Lacey's retinas. For week's she bee able to recall every detail of what she witnessed including the supremely satisfied look on Julia's face when she pulled away from Alejandro's cock. It was still twitching a little when it dropped out of sight.

Julia caught Lacey completely off guard when she took the young woman's face and pulled her into a sloppy sperm soaked kiss. Normally she didn't even do this for her husband. Here, with Julia feeding it to her and Alejandro watching, it was a treat to feel the fluid slipping between her tongue and Julia's. The two women finished the kiss and turned toward Alejandro with hungry smiles. 

"Like a mother and baby bird." Alejandro playfully taunted. The women exchanged a smile before crawling up on opposite sides of their swarthy lover for a fresh round of kissing.