21 comments/ 193597 views/ 29 favorites Mother is My Sexy Valentine By: SuperHeroRalph This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote. * Mother tricks son-in-law into having sex on Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day was the first time I had sex with my mother, Camille. I admit, at the time, a way to get back at my wife, Susan, I was excited doing my mother-in-law, after she told me that my wife had been unfaithful to me. Brought up in a wholesome household, incest was forbidden, but I was lonely and my mother-in-law was there, available, willing, and ready. Besides, with my mother-in-law not a blood relative, sounding good to me, she told me that it was more taboo than incest. Yet, at the time, it didn't matter if having sex with Camille was incest or just a taboo. I was horny. I was bored. I wanted to get even, after finding out that Susan had cheated on me not once, not twice, but numerous times. She had been having a long-term affair. After having teased me, before seducing me, my mother caught me at a weak moment, when she told me about Susan's extramarital affair. I was crushed. I was devastated. I was ready for sexual comfort. Now on the rebound, wanting to turn the tables on my wife to see how she liked me being unfaithful, just the thought of having sex with her mother was deliciously exciting and my perfect revenge. Then, as an unanticipated bonus, the actual sex that I had with my mother was much hotter than I had imagined. More sexual than her daughter, the woman was insatiable. That first time with my mother, I ejaculated three times. She gave me the blowjob that I always hoped my wife, Susan, her daughter, would give me, one where she allowed me to cum in her mouth and one where she'd swallow. Only, my wife never allowed me to cum in her mouth. Not nearly the same, instead, she'd only allow me to cum on her tits. It took her mother, an older woman, to show me lustful love and to make me feel like a teenaged lover, instead of a neglected husband. In my justification in having sex with my mother, a lot of guys fantasize about doing their mothers and mother-in-laws and, admittedly, I was never one of them, that is, until now. Going back to the days of the Roman Empire, insatiably depraved and feeling they had the right to seduce any female, because they were Gods, so many of the Roman Emperors had sex with their mothers. Only, they didn't stop there, they had sex with their sisters, too, along with any and every female relative that was within close proximity of them. A time before the Internet dating sites and pickup bars, before cars even, I imagine it was difficult for the Emperors to find suitable bedmates, while driving the rough countryside in their chariots, ergo the possible reason why they had sex with their relatives, since they were already there in the palace. Homer's Greek tragedy, the Iliad, and his Greek comedy, the Odyssey, were filled with suggestive incestuous lust. Shakespeare's Hamlet overtly suggests Hamlet's incestuous lust for his mother, Gertrude. Oedipus Rex, the Oedipus complex, was in full bloom with Hamlet's impure thoughts in his forbidden love for his mother. The Achilles heel for all these mythical heroes and high profile characters in literature was the insanely incestuous and forbidden love they had for their mothers. Franz Kafka's novella, Metamorphosis is filled with incestuous overtones. In the book of Genesis, even the Bible contains stories of incestuous lust. Falkner's The Sound and the Fury, for which he won a Nobel Prize in Literature in 1949, reveals his character, Quentin's idea of incest. Nearly all of the erotic literature of the Marquis De Sade was filled with as much incestuous references, as it was rape, torture, and debauchery, some of which he was imprisoned by his cousin, Louie XV, not only for his writings but also for his sexual escapades and erotic exploits. D. H. Lawrence's, The Rocking-Horse Winner and Edgar Allen Poe's, The Fall of the House of Usher have incestuous overtones. Incest, the forbidden lust and wanton desire, is the greatest taboo in literature. According to some, a man born of incest will become Satan. Surrounded by incestuous lust from the time we are old enough to want to suckle our mother's nipple again, to discover that wanting to have sex with our maternal figures is more of a Freudian, male thing. Who would have figured that we'd all want to show our mothers and mothers how much better in bed we are than our fathers and father-in-laws? Granted, technically not incest, since my mother-in-law is not related by blood, but sex with my wife's mother is still considered a taboo. Knowing that throughout history and recorded in literature, nearly every guy wanted to have sex with their mothers, that revelation made me feel better about having had sex with my mother-in-law. Besides, I couldn't have gotten an erection if I wasn't sexually attracted to my mother-in-law that's for sure and, without a doubt, I was. In the category of they could have been twins, a body double and a spitting image of her daughter, Susan and Camille did one of those Ivory soap mother and daughter commercials some years back and viewers wrote in that they couldn't tell one from the other. Genetically blessed, athletically inclined, like mother like daughter, always working out jogging and swimming, at fifty-something-years-old, my mother still had a smoking hot, hard body. She didn't look a day over forty and felt more like a 30-year-old. I hate to admit it, but much more sexual than her daughter, maybe because she was just as neglected by her husband as I had been by my wife, she was a wildcat and a voracious lover in bed. On her knees begging for my cock, she couldn't get enough of my big, hard prick. Never have I been sucked and fucked as much. Never have I had such hot sex with Susan, as I've had with her mother, Camille. "Oh, my God, Camille. I'm gonna cum...again." "Fuck me until it hurts," she said. My mother wants me to call her Mom and, a turn on for her, she likes it when I call her Mommy in bed. At first calling her Mommy was a total turn off but, because of the way she gets aroused, when I call her Mommy, I've grown to enjoy calling her Mommy, while having hot sex with her. Anyway, when Mom and I got together that first time, my wife was away with her Dad. What else is new? She's always gone with Daddy and I'm always left alone with Mommy. Not such a bad tradeoff, especially now, after having had hot sex with her mother that first time. Only, this time, before we had become sexually intimate, was different. This time, Camille confessed to me that Daddy was doing his beloved daughter. I was shocked. I was hurt. I was angry. I felt betrayed. This is our story. A man free of Freud's despicable and sexually perverted Oedipus Complex, had it not been for that one tidbit of information, had it not been for my mother telling me that my wife, her daughter, was having sex with her husband, my father-in-law and offering to comfort me in my time of woe and consternation by taking me to her bed, never would I have started down that incestuous road with my mother-in-law. When I think of it now, so many years later, I was such a fool. If it wasn't so funny, I'd cringe at how I was manipulated, emotionally used, and sexually abused by my wife's conniving and sexually depraved mother. "Oh, the shame of it all." I'm Ralph, a golf widower and I'm fine with that. Most men would feel emasculated being supported by their wife, but I'm not. I do my share to help her and to make her life easier. My wife, Susan, is a professional golfer on the LPGA tour, Ladies Professional Golf Association and, with a top Rolex ranking, she's never home. She travels the globe playing tournaments, giving lessons to wealthy individuals, making interactive videos for video games, doing photo shoots for sponsor print ad endorsements and television commercials, attending charity events, and making public appearances. Her agent, Hal Rosenbloom, wants to make her a star by plastering her sexy cheesecake image everywhere. If only her public knew what a dud she was in bed. Without doubt, her mother should be the sexy diva that everyone lusts over and not her daughter. In the way that Susan is such a jock, Camille is the one who can make my toes curl. "Always smile and never turn away from the Paparazzi," her agent tells her. "The Paparazzi is your friend. They can make or break your career by showing you in a good light or in a bad light. As long as you give them nothing to use against you, as long as you give them what they want, poses and photos, use them to make you a star. You won't be playing golf forever," he enjoyed saying to her. "And when you stop playing games, that's when we'll make real money. If you were a man, if you had testicles, I'd advise you to play golf, until you can no longer swing a club, but God forbid you should have an injury. With your good looks and fabulous body, movies are your next, best venue." I have to give Hal credit, he knows how to make money and he's done alright by my wife. She's gone from a professional athlete, to a super star, and to a money in the bank personality. She receives deals for books, public appearances, speaking events, and receives movie offers every day. Only, she's so busy with her career that I never get to see her and to be with her. She's always on the road, or in the air, or at the airport waiting to catch a plane or waiting to get off a plane. Then, she makes herself available to the general public for signing autographs and posing for pictures. Always smiling and appearing happy, golf's ray of sunshine is how they refer to my wife, Susan. A few years ago, in the year that this all began, she actually scheduled me in her book for us to have a romantic evening on Valentine's Day. Only, she wasn't going to be here that day either. Hal had booked her for another commitment, a moneymaking engagement. Instead I was home alone with her mother. Because we have this huge house and because Susan is so close to her Dad, her parents live with us. Hal booked her for a gig that netted her a high five figure appearance fee and one that led to a seven figure commercial spokesperson endorsement later. Without doubt, she gets more attention than most of the other lady golfers and many of the men because, of course, her golfing talent but also because of her looks. Looking more like a beauty queen, she looks more like a swimsuit model than she does a golfer. Always horny, always alone, and always lonely, but for her mother, during that time, I couldn't remember the last time I had sex with Susan. It had been quite a while. At first I was angry that she was away so much. I traveled with her in the beginning, but I felt like a third wheel. Her Dad is her everything. He's her instructor, her trainer, her manager, her caddy, and her mentor. He accompanies her everywhere, except to the ladies room. She's really close to her Dad and they have a great father and daughter relationship. I envy their closeness, as I never knew my Dad. He took off, when I was born and my Mom never remarried. Only, I had no idea Susan and her Dad were having incestuous sexual relations, that is, until her mother told me. It all makes sense to me now. Played for the sucker that I am, I was such a dope. Well, two can play at that game. What's good for Susan having sex with her is good for me having sex with her mother. Only, I love my wife. For me to cheat on her with her mother was something that I can never take back. Certainly, it'd be a violation to sleep with Susan's best friend, but she didn't have a best friend. Too busy traveling the world with her Dad playing golf and making money, she didn't have time for friends, not then anyway. Maybe after her rollercoaster ride of fame and fortune ends, she'd have more time for something other than golf. It'd be a serious violation of trust to sleep with her sister but, she didn't have a sister. She was an only child. It didn't get any worse for me to sleep with her mother but, with her sleeping with her Dad, instead of me, my justification was that I wanted to get back at her for humiliating me. When Camille told me that Susan was having sex with her Dad, I couldn't help but wonder if she was blowing him, allowing him to cum in her mouth, and swallowing him. Was that why she wouldn't allow me, her husband, to cum in her mouth? Partially because her last name was Forest and she was racking up big money in endorsements, the sportswriters referred to her as the female Tiger Woods. When we were first married, I traveled with her, but all we did was argue. I was bored and maybe a little jealous of the attention that she received. Sitting in the hotel room waiting for her to return from this or from that, she was the star and I was a nobody. The man behind the scenes and behind the camera, I was just her husband. Always late and always tired, when she finally returned to the room, she was too worn out for sex. She'd fall asleep in the chair and I'd pick her up and put her to bed. When no longer traveling with her, as if I was one of her gallery fans, instead of her husband, the only time I really saw her was to watch her play golf in person or on TV. Ripe for her advances, requiring some sexual attention, and ready for the intimate affection, it all started innocently enough with my mother teasing me. At the time, I didn't know she was teasing me. I thought all of those wardrobe malfunctions she routinely had were accidental and not on purpose. I thought she was just oblivious to my stares. I can't tell you how many down blouses and up skirts she gave me, but she gave me enough to give me nightly erections that required that I masturbate for a bit of sexual relief, while imagining having sex with her. I'm only human and with my wife gone all the time and her mother looking like a carbon copy of her, albeit older, with the lights off in the bedroom, especially after a couple of drinks, even I couldn't tell the difference between them. If I had to pick between the two, I'd pick her mother because she was so much more sexual than Susan. Damn, her mother was so hot and was so much more fun than Susan. We'd laugh, while having a hot time in bed and her mother loved talking dirty, something that Susan didn't enjoy doing. Susan was more a prude. Every time I sat in the living room across from Camille, she'd part her knees just enough to give me a constant view of her panties. With the sudden view making me horny, I couldn't help but look. I was mesmerized by her exposed panties. She made me hunger for her pussy. Also, Camille had a rack, a full C cup, that she had a plastic surgeon enhance and lift the abundance she had to make them not sag a bit. She enjoyed wearing low cut blouses that opened, whenever she leaned forward, and it seemed that she always had an excuse to lean forward in front of me. Sometimes she didn't wear a bra. When she got up in the morning and we had breakfast, she didn't even bother with a robe. She had an entire collection of shear, low cut, short nightgowns that gave me plenty of opportunities to see all that God gave her and all that plastic surgery improved and preserved. When she walked through the brightly lit foyer with the massive thirty foot windows, the sun lit her up, as if she was naked. An odd place to have my second cup of morning coffee, I'd sit on the foyer staircase on the hopes that she'd walk by, while wearing her nightgown that the sun made virtually transparent. Oh, my God, that was so hot and all the while, she pretended that she didn't know that I could see every curve and indentation of her beautiful body. Horny enough and lonely enough, I started returning the favor by playing Camille's teasing game of exhibitionism. I started walking around wearing just my pajama bottoms and a tee shirt or no shirt at all. With my morning wood sticking out straight, I always had an erection in the morning, once in a while, I'd catch her looking. A voyeur, just as I loved to look, when she was showing, I didn't mind playing the part of the exhibitionist and showing, whenever she was looking. With her husband gone, just as much as my wife, I wondered if she was as horny as I was. As I was happy to discover, she was, only, even more so. It was a natural progression from her walking around in her shear nightgown and me sporting an erection, with all the juvenile horseplay we did, that we'd start touching. Acting more like two horny teenagers than responsible adults that were related by marriage, she was very ticklish and I was always tickling her. My ulterior motive for tickling her, when she was in her sexy nightgown, was not only because I'd see more, when she'd lift her leg rolling around the couch trying to get away from me, but also it allowed me to accidentally on purpose touch her where no son should ever touch his mother-in-law. Oh, my God it was so exciting for my fingers to brush by her breast or my hand to accidentally on purpose feel her ass. There were lots of times, with her legs spread, where she'd roll around laughing so hard, that her nightgown would nearly climb up to her waist, giving me a full frontal view of her neatly trimmed, blonde pussy. I was so tempted to put my hand between her legs and finger fuck her but I was so afraid of crossing that line. My wife's mother, she was my mother, after all. Nonetheless, the sight of my mother's pussy always gave me something to masturbate over later. Then, she'd return the favor and tickle me and always her hand would brush by my cock. Did she do that on purpose or by accident? I couldn't tell. If I didn't have an erection, I soon had one with my mother-in-law tickling me, while accidentally touching my cock. We continued our sexy antics in the pool. It felt so good to grab her around the waist and to lean against her, while she took me for a ride around the pool. I so wanted to reach my hands up to cup her big, full breasts and finger her nipples through her bikini top, but I never did. Always, with my cock planted between her Spandex covered ass cheeks, I had an instant erection and it was enough to touch her arms, back, shoulders and legs. She had such soft skin. The fun part was when she asked me to put suntan lotion on her. Imagining that I was about to eat her pussy, I loved rubbing the warm lotion on her shapely legs and inner thighs. When she undid her bikini top, I had a clear and continually view of the sides of her breasts. It took all the control I had not to touch them and caress them. I used the excuse of rubbing suntan lotion on her to give her a back, butt, and leg massages later. It took me a while to work up enough courage to massage her butt through her bikini bottom and she never protested, and/or stopped me, when I did. Just like her daughter, she had a perfect ass. I loved my mother's ass, almost as much as I loved her tits. Being the teaser and practical joker that I am, one day, she was out sunning and I snuck up behind her. Taking a leaf, I ever so lightly ran the leaf down her back, while making a buzzing sound. Well, she jumped up off the chaise lounge so fast that she forgot to take her top with her. My eyes nearly fell out of my head, when I saw my mother's big boobs. "Well, two can play that game," she said making no attempt to cover her breasts with her hands. Instead, she took a step forward and, while squatting down, in one quick swipe, she pulled down my bathing trunks. My cock sprang to life. Embarrassed, I pulled them up and dove in the pool and, still topless, she jumped in after me. We fooled around in the pool a little bit with some touchy feely, but nothing sexual and nothing came of it. Still, I couldn't believe my mother saw my cock. I couldn't believe she was looking, staring at it, actually. I'll be jerking off over seeing her tits and her seeing my cock, no doubt, later, that's for sure and I did many times. Mother is My Sexy Valentine Still, even with all her flashing, the up skirts, the down blouses, the teasing, the tickling, and after having her flash me her tits and after she forced me to flash her my cock, still nothing sexual ever happened between us. There was a line that, even though I constantly thought about it, I couldn't cross it. That is, until one evening, when we were sitting on the couch together watching a movie. I don't even remember which movie it was, but it was a good one. We had finished a bottle of wine and were working on our second bottle. More preoccupied watching her nightgown climb higher than I was with the movie, when she leaned into me, I put my arm around her back. I had always been close to my mother but never this close and I was about to get even closer. As soon as she leaned to the side, I had a clear view down her open nightgown. She had beautiful Loni Anderson type cleavage. "Do you mind, if I use you as a pillow," she said with a little laugh. "My back is stiffening up." "No, not at all," I said. "Would you like a massage?" "No, this is good like this," she said resting her hand on my thigh. I so wished she'd move her hand a little higher and rest it on my cock. With my fingertips in contact with the side of her big breast, the warmth of her hand gave me an erection. I don't remember if she kissed me or I kissed her or if we kissed one another at the same time, but it was Valentine's Day and, in the mood for love and romance, I missed Susan. Right there sitting beside me was her carbon copy, my surrogate lover, my mother. When I kissed Camille, I felt lust that I have never felt before. My hand immediately found her breast and her hand fingered the bulge that soon became an erection in my pajama bottom. We started French kissing and as soon as we did, I reached my hand down the top of her nightgown and felt and caressed her big breasts, while fingering her nipples. I had a raging erection and I couldn't believe it when my mother pulled my cock out of my pajama bottoms and started slowly stroking me. Oh, my God, my cock felt so good in her hand. This woman was not sexually shy or incestuously inhibited, at all. If anything, she was just as horny as I was. French kissing her, while feeling her up and with her stroking my cock, I couldn't believe I was making out with my mother, instead of making love to my wife on of all days, Valentine's Day. I couldn't believe I had her big tit in my horny hand, while fingering her nipple. I couldn't believe she was giving me a slow hand job. It was surreal. "Make love to me," she said. As if a needle went across a record, the reality that I was with my mother, my wife's mother, and not my wife, Susan, shook me from my alcoholic drugged brain. Make love to her? She's my mother-in-law. I can't do that. "No," I said without even thinking, while pulling my hand out of her nightgown and sitting up straight. "I can't do that." She was still holding onto my cock and I watched her fingering it, while slowly stroking it. "Why not?" She started stroking me faster. She knew just what to do, which buttons to push, and when to push them. Even though my cock was the hardest it's ever been, I was putty in her hand. "Gees, Camille, you're Susan's mother. You're my mother. It would be incest." My cock felt so good in her hand, especially with what she was doing. I really could use a hand job right now. "Incest is between blood related relatives," she said, "and I'm not related to you by blood." She continued stroking me and I was getting breathlessly excited. "It's still considered a taboo," I said. "Moreover, I'd be cheating on my wife and I can't do that, especially not with her mother." Oh, my God, I so wanted to have hot sex with Camille. If she was anyone else sitting beside me on the couch stroking my cock, Susan's friend, her sister, her cousin, anyone, the maid, the housekeeper, or the cook, I would have. "Not tonight. Having sex with me tonight wouldn't be considered incest, a taboo, or cheating," she said still slowly stroking me. "Why not?" I couldn't stop watching her stroking me. She had me squirming. If she continued stroking me like this, I'd cum all over her hand. "It's Valentine's Day. It's a lover's holiday and everything is permissible today, even incest, or something that is a taboo and forbidden, such as having an extramarital affair with your wife's mother." I didn't have an answer for her because I wanted to have sex with her, but I knew it would be a mistake and so terribly wrong. Then, she did something totally unexpected. She leaned forward and took my cock in her mouth. Oh, my God. I couldn't believe it. My mother was giving me a blowjob. My wife's mother was blowing me. Camille was sucking my cock. I was shocked. I was excited. I was so horny that I was frozen into inaction. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop her from having her way with me and my hard prick. Boy, could she suck cock. Never in my life have I had such a blowjob. Camille was giving me the best blowjob of my life. If only Susan could suck my cock like this, I'd never cheat on her. "No! Wait. Stop! Camille. Don't. Please," I said finally coming to my senses and pulling away from her to dislodge my cock from my mouth, as if it was a cork pulled from a bottle. Oh, my God, that felt so incredibly good to have her sucking on me like that. I so wanted to put a hand to the back of her head and fuck her face. I so wanted to cum in her mouth. I so wanted to watch her swallow my cum, before pushing her to the floor and fucking her. "Make love to me, Ralph," she said again. "It's Valentine's Day and we're both lonely. We're both horny. It will do us both the world of good to have some sexy intimacy," she said kissing and kissing me, while still stroking my cock. The fact that she just had my cock in her mouth and was kissing me, sticking her tongue in my mouth, was such a total turn on for me. I could taste myself on her. Susan would actually stop to brush her teeth and gargle. "No, that's so wrong on so many levels. That's incest. I can't have sex with you, my mother. I can't do that to Susan. I can't be unfaithful to my wife and I can't do that to your husband." "Unfaithful to your wife?" She stopped stroking me to look at me. There was a long, uncomfortable pause, before she ruined my world. "What do you think Susan is doing with her father?" As if she hit me with a bucket of cold water, her words confirmed and echoed my suspicions through my mind. Still, I couldn't believe it. Even though I thought it, I never verbalized it. I figured I was just being jealous that her father was hogging my wife. Besides, how could she have sex with her father? How could she do that? Why would she do that? I was at a loss to understand. "What? What do you mean? What are you saying? How dare you? That's so gross. You're her mother, what's wrong with you to even suggest that?" I was angry. I was hurt that it could be truth, but I didn't want to believe it, not for a minute. I sat up and leaned away from her with my arms folded. I didn't want her touching me. I didn't want her kissing me. "Henry told me. They have sex. They've always had sex. Every time they travel they have sex. He's been fucking your wife, my daughter, for years." "No way! He has not. You're just making that up so--" "I'm not," she said making eye contact, while putting her hand on my thigh, and nodding her head. "It's true, Ralph. I'm sorry." "Are you serious?" "I am." I couldn't help myself. In my raw emotion of learning about my unfaithful wife on Valentine's Day, I just burst out crying. Even though I had just been sitting there making out with her mother, feeling her up, while she was stroking and blowing me, that was different. Besides, I stopped it from going further. The big reveal here was that the love of my life was having incestuous sex with her father for years, without me knowing and with me chastising myself for suspecting. Now, I understood. I was such a dope. Of course, it all made sense to me now. How long did Camille know about it? If she knew about it, why didn't she put a stop to it? Why did she allow it to continue? Why wasn't she as upset as I was? How could she so coolly tell me that her husband and daughter were having an incestuous relationship. I'd be livid. With Susan supporting everyone in the family, was it all because of money? Camille comforted me, until I got up from the couch and went in my bedroom. I wanted to be alone. I needed time alone to understand why and how Susan could do this to me. Only, concerned for my welfare, no doubt, suspecting, I'd do something foolish, she followed behind me. Only, instead of giving me space to assimilate the ramifications of my wife having sex with her father, the woman wouldn't take no for an answer. She kept touching me, hugging me, and kissing me, until I relented and returned her kisses. Then, when she resumed blowing me, I was so weak and she was so strong, she had her way with me. She whipped off her nightgown, pulled off my pajama bottoms, climbed on top of me, and fucked me, as if she was a sailor on shore leave, after being away at sea for too long. Screaming, sweaty sex, never have I had sex like that before. The sex I had with Susan was almost polite and always planned and determined by her never ending commitments and full schedule. I rolled her over and slammed by big, hard cock in my mother's pussy. If only I had sex with Susan like that, if only Susan was as sexual as her mother, I'd never look at another woman. We fucked with her on top. We fucked with her on the bottom. We fucked doggie style, until I exploded inside of her, when she had a screaming orgasm. Then, after resting for a few minutes, she started sucking my cock again, really sucking my cock, this time. She was so hungry for my prick. She sucked my cock so long and so well, that I unloaded all I had in her mouth and she swallowed every drop, before licking me clean. Finally, after we dozed and woke up, we had anal sex. She had another orgasm and I ejaculated for the third time. I had a lot of first that night. The first time having incestuous sex. The first time cumming three times in one night, since I was a teenager jerking off in bed. The first time having sex with my mother and the first time having anal sex. We spent the next few weeks, until Susan arrived home, sleeping together and having sex every night, every morning, and in every position. The woman was an insatiable nymphomaniac. Not even on my Honeymoon did I have so much sex with Susan, as I was now having with her mother. She knew how to push all my buttons. She loved talking dirty. It's one thing to talk dirty with your wife or your girlfriend, but to talk dirty with your mother, while naked in bed with her is something else and something that I highly recommend, so long as your mother-in-law looks as good as Camille. Without doubt, I should have married the mother, instead of the daughter. Finally, it was the day that Susan was coming home. I was sick to my stomach with worry and guilt. Reality made me feel the guilt now that I didn't feel before. I had sex dozens of times and ejaculated in every hole of her mother. What is wrong with me? In that short time, I had more sex with her mother than I've had with Susan in a year. We were lovers. "Hi, I'm home," said Susan from the downstairs reception hall. "Hi Susan. I'll be right down," I said looking at her mother. "What do I say to her? What are we going to do?" "Don't worry about anything," said her mother. "She'll never know. She won't even suspect a thing. Just relax and stay calm." Only, when we came walking downstairs together, Susan took one look at us and knew. "Mother! Did you tell Ralph that I was having sex with Daddy?" "I did," said her mother with a shit eating grin in the way that Endora used to look, when pulling a fast one over Samantha's husband, Darrin, on Bewitched. "Mother! How could you? Ralph, I'm so sorry. I'm not having sex with my father. She did the same thing to my fiancée and that's the reason why we broke off our engagement, after Mommy fucked and sucked him silly. I should have warned you about her," she said giving her mother an angry look and me a loving look. "You must be so angry with me and I wouldn't blame you one bit, if you are." Are you kidding me? By just feigning that I'm hurt and angry, I'm going to really get away with having sex with my mother? "I am very angry with you, Susan," I said going along with her suggestion of anger by feigning it. "I'm hurt. I feel so used and abused," I said putting the back of my hand to my forehead and acting, as if I was about to cry. "I'm so sorry, Ralph, so very sorry to have left you alone with my mother for so long without warning you. Only, she promised she wouldn't have sex with you. She promised she wouldn't seduce you. Mother! You promise!" "Sorry," said Camille shrugging. "It's okay, Susan. Only, it was a horrible ordeal. You're mother is such a brute. She forced me. She got me drunk. She wouldn't take no for an answer. She wouldn't be denied," I said putting my face in my hands and acting the part of the hurt husband. "She practically raped me." "I know. You poor baby. You poor man. There, there, sweetie. It's okay. I'm home now," she said give me a hug and a kiss. "Mother, how could you? Bad Mommy, bad," she said pointing a finger of acrimony at her mother. "I'm sorry, Susan," said Camille. "I really am. Now that it's out of my system, I promise that I won't do it again. I cross my heart and hope to die," said her mother crossing her heart with one hand, while holding her other hand behind her back with crossed fingers. "I forgive you, Mom," said Susan hugging her mother, while hugging me. "I understand, I do. I really do. I'm on the road too much. It's my fault." God, I just love this woman. First she blames her mother for seducing me, and rightfully so, and now she takes the responsibility that it was all her fault. When I felt Camille's hand on my ass, I knew she wasn't sorry and I knew she'd fuck me silly again, as soon as Susan hit the road again next week. "Just don't say anything to father," said Camille. "He's not as understanding as you are about such indiscretions, especially sexual indiscretions. He's the real prude in the family." Like father, like daughter, I thought. Yet, no matter, everything was fine and we were a happy family, once again, that is, until Susan left for her next trip. Camille and I fucked every day, multiple times a day, like rabbits. When I think back on how it all began with my mother, that was the best Valentine's Day I ever had. * Please don't forget to vote, make a comment, and/or add me and this story to your favorite lists. Thank you for reading my story.