0 comments/ 102612 views/ 11 favorites Stacy's Secret Ch. 01 By: Uncle Bert At last, the house was empty, leaving only Mom, my sister Stacy and myself and a great emptiness where, I hoped, my father's spirit lingered. He was only fifty-eight. He didn't smoke, rarely took liquor, exercised regularly with tennis and swimming. But he went into cardiac arrest a week ago on the commuter train from Boston, the victim of a defective heart valve no one knew about. Most of his genes favored me, and I heard it all day at the funeral from long lost (or in the case of a couple, discarded) relatives: "You look just like Warren." "You have your mother's eyes, but everything else looks like your Dad." "Just cut your hair a little closer, no one could tell the difference." It was true. Dad and I had the same wavy brown hair, square jaw, broad shoulders (I swim and play tennis, too), and stood at 5'10". They were right about the eyes; Dad's were a deep, stark blue, like little sapphire chips. But it was my mother's soft, mossy green that blinked away the tears in the mirror. The sight was suddenly painful, and I turned away. "Could you do some of the picking up, dear?" my mother asked. Her eyes, red and wet, glistened with grief. "It's been an exhausting day." "Of course, Mom." Though her body was drained with grief, she was still a striking woman, ten years younger than Dad, with high sculpted cheekbones, long, elegant neck, sharply defined features and smooth white skin; contrasted with her black pearls and simple black funeral dress, she evoked a graceful bird, perhaps an egret. Today, an egret with its wing down. I doffed my suit at last, and spent the next hour and a half washing and drying dishes, straightening up the living room, even cleaning the bathroom. I did not run the vacuum cleaner, due to the late hour, but didn't think a shower would make too much noise. Donning my dark blue terrycloth bathrobe, I made my upstairs to the guest room, and saw light streaming under the door to Stacy's room. I had forgotten all about her; I hadn't seen her in at least three hours. Dad's death hit Stacy the hardest, but that would make sense because not only was she the youngest, she still lived at home. I noticed the sobbing then, the gasps for breath, then the tears, as if she had just heard the news. I lingered, not knowing what to do. Finally, I gently opened the door and stepped in, startling her. "Oh! Oh. Charles. It's you. I'm sorry." Stacy sat up, pulled another tissue from the dispenser on her night table, blew her nose, and tried to fake a smile. She wore a bathrobe over a white satin nightdress. She pulled the soft garment closed, covering the outline of her firm, slightly conical breasts, as if cleavage would somehow be on my mind at that moment. Her light brown hair, soft, short and fine, danced around her red and vulnerable face. Again, Mom's eyes took me in, but Stacy got a little more from Dad than I got from Mom. Stacy patted the spot next to her on the bed. I sat next to her, my hands in my lap, still not knowing what to do. "It's hitting you harder than I thought it would," I said. "I'm sorry," Stacy replied. "You have no idea what we meant to each other." "No one could see this coming, Stacy." "I know, but …" She plucked another tissue and started crying again. I gathered her in my arms and let her tears flow onto my shoulder. "Who will love me now?" she asked. "Who can I tell everything to?" "I love you. I'm here, Stacy. I'm here," I said, and kissed some of her tears away. Stacy crushed my body to hers, and I caressed her hair as the storm passed. She drew away and looked into my eyes, into my face, searching for something, I didn't know what. I had only the most urgent desire to comfort my sad, vulnerable sister and see her smile once more. A slim white hand now lay against my cheek, and began caressing it. Stacy's expression changed. Her face grew a little stern, as if she were making a decision. "You look so like him, Charles," she said tenderly, bringing up her other hand and laying it on my neck. "Do you love me?" "You know I do." "Could you love me like Dad did?" "I don't know what you mean." Stacy pulled my lips to hers, surprising me. Her kiss was gentle, sweet, the scent in her hair like a fresh breeze from a lake. Her arms went around me now, and, not knowing what to do, not wanting to hurt her, reject her, I kissed back, let her draw my tongue to hers. As our tongues blended, I pulled Stacy closer and felt great heat coming from below. I wore only my robe, and unless something changed, my sister, this divine woman I was French kissing as though she were the last of the species, would soon be treated to the sight of an eight-inch crowbar jutting from between my legs. Only when the kiss broke for a moment did I realize the meaning of what Stacy had just said. "You … and Dad?" I was incredulous. She nodded, and said, "Do you see now?" My mind would have been reeling, but Stacy kissed me again, and I felt her hand slide along my thigh, her sharp fingernails tantalizing my balls. I felt a tug at my sash, and my robe parted, allowing my growing cock to snap free, tall, red, and insistent. "My," she said, placing her fingers over my cockhead and cupping the upper shaft in her palm. "It's so hot." "You have no idea," I replied, my throat dry. Stacy grasped my cock now, her sensitive fingers curling around it, squeezing, exploring. I let the robe fall from my shoulders, giving me the room I needed. Gently, I laid her on the bed and let her stroke me to full erection. "My God, Charles," she whispered. "I don't think I've ever felt anything so hard." "Stacy, I--" But I couldn't think of anything to say. My hand glided to Stacy's mound, a soft tuft of kitten's fur. Our eyes met, and then she sighed and closed her eyes when I sank my index finger into her womanly heat. Stacy whispered my name again, pulled my face to the nape of her neck. Understanding, I began to lick and nibble, even as I used my thumb and finger to tease my sister, to guide her to the sky, and now, in the back of my mind, to compete with my father, to be the best lover my beautiful Stacy would ever know. I bit her earlobe gently and massaged her clit. We kissed again, her hand squeezing and pulling on my ravenous red cock, our breathing hurried and hot, when suddenly Stacy's head snapped away from mine and began to thrash from side to side. I felt a gush of warm, sweet juice on my palm as Stacy gave herself over to the orgasm, the orgasm I had given her. On the third wave she held my eyes, staring at me with bliss, a sense of wonder and discovery alive in her face. A final shudder, and it was over. "My God, Charles!" she gasped when her breathing returned to normal. "I had no idea!" I smiled with benevolent satisfaction and kissed her. "Sweet, beautiful sister," I whispered. Stacy stood up now and looked down me in as I lay back, my cock staring at her with its glistening red eye. Never in my life had I ever been so aroused, and though I had just given my sister an orgasm, I felt no shame at all, only a burning lust. Stacy's robe fell to the floor, and the nightdress flew over her head. My exquisite sister, naked and lovely, her slender curves, her breasts tight and proud, loomed above me briefly, giving me a chance to admire the prize I would soon take. She joined me on the bed then, and brought her body close to mine. We kissed again. I dipped my face to her sleek, not quite round, cone-like breast and flicked the stiff nipple with the tip of my tongue. Her sharp intake of breath told me I had done the right thing, and so I continued to stimulate her, and massage her clit again at the same time. But Stacy took the lead, and as I moved back up her lovely torso to those soft, satisfying lips, she maneuvered her body underneath mine. God knows, I was ready. There would be no taking this back, I knew, as my cock lay on her belly, hot and throbbing. We kissed again, and I felt Stacy's gentle caress around my cockhead, and for a moment, panicked, thinking she might have changed her mind. But no. With a gentle smile she let her legs part and slid into position. My cock lay now on her upper lips. I reached down and rubbed it against her clit. "Charles! What are you doing?" Grinning with satisfaction as my sister went back into the contortions of passion, I lay my thumping prick along her belly, not going inside, and masturbated her with a length of hot cock. I kept the stimulation going until she was almost there. Then, with a quick stab, I plunged inside her, where it was moist and wet and hot and tight, and went in all the way. That sent her over the waterfall. I did not move as Stacy writhed and moaned under me, calling my name, almost bouncing off the bed, her pussy gushing on my cock as I concentrated with everything I had not to come, not yet, to make this moment last, for it might never return, except in my feverish dreams at night. Stacy stared at me in wonder when the orgasm subsided, and barked a joyous laugh. Then, it was my turn. I started to move my cock now, drawing out slowly at first, and then going faster and faster as my beautiful, lusty sister moved in concert with me, bringing her hips up to meet my thrusts. "Stacy!" I cried. "I love you! I love you!" "Charles!" she gasped. "More! My God! You--" "Oh, darling!" A surge of voltage ran along my prick as all its power went to the head. My tight balls jerked with force as they fed a fat load of seed deep, deep into my sister, then and forever the center of my love. Stacy cried out inarticulate vowel sounds as the third round of orgasm hit her. Her breasts crushed up against my chest as her pussy squeezed me and milked me. I thrust in one last time, gave her a final spurt, and then it was over. We kissed slowly, tenderly as the storm clouds of passion slowly dissipated, and our bodies separated. We lay on our backs, our fingers idly playing with one another. "Charles!" she sighed at last. "Wherever did you learn to make love like that?" "College," I said. "You?" "Dad." "Oh." In my joy, I had forgotten what sparked this sudden, sensational interlude. "Don't think about that now, Charles," she said, drawing closer. "Don't think about anything but what we found tonight. About what we have now. Think about how you've saved me." "Stacy, this is … overwhelming." "I've never had love like that, darling, never. You had me flying in the stars." "Stacy, Stacy." All I could think of to say was her name. My mind was staggering with confusion now. How long had Dad and Sis been lovers? How did it start? Did Mom know? And where were we going from here? "I know what you're thinking," she said softly, nestling her head on my shoulder, and draping a leg over mine. "You're tired, Charles, and there's so much to say. Rest, Charles. Stay with me and we'll dream of love." She was so right. Stacy drifted off to sleep, eventually rolling off my shoulder and onto her side, presenting the lovely sight of curves, curves that looked like gentle rolling hills. I, too, fell asleep, and dreamed of making love to my darling sister in the meadow on a warm summer's afternoon. Stacy's Secret Ch. 02 I awoke at dawn. Stacy had left the skylight open, so the scent of fresh, cool morning air filled the room. I lay on my side and watched her sleep as the sunlight gradually illuminated her beautiful face, so lovely and so much at peace. I only wished I had felt the same way. The enormous implications of what we had done the night before were just beginning to sink in. Not only had I made love to my sister and broken every societal law I thought I believed in, I was not her first incestuous lover. A chilling thought: was I even the second? What do we do now? Do we pretend it never happened and carry the memory to our graves? Do we have an affair? If so, how? What if one of us meets someone else? But weighed against all the uncertainty was this: it was the most amazing, electric sex I had ever had in my life. If at all possible, I wanted more. I knew Mom would sleep in, so I donned my robe, tiptoed to the bathroom, cleaned up, and returned to my sister, who was just beginning to stir. Seeing me in the doorway, she smiled mischievously and patted the sheet next to her. Already erect, I hung my robe over a chair and snuggled up next to her. "Kiss me, Charles." Stacy's lips were smooth and delectable, and she trailed delicate fingers along my cock, ardent and ready. But she excused herself to freshen up, leaving me to stare at the ceiling and torment myself by not touching my turgid tool before she returned and snuggled up next to me. She lay on her side and gently stroked my cock. "Do you still love me?" she asked. "Do you feel all right about what we did last night?" "I love you," I replied, "and I don't know how to feel about what we did last night." "Seems to me you do," she replied, giving me a playful squeeze. "What are you doing?" I asked. Stacy held my dick so it was poking straight into the air. Her lips parted and took in my cockhead. I cried out, but she silenced me with her free hand. Transfixed, I watched as my sexy sister's head slid slowly down my shaft, stopping halfway down. I nearly swooned. Looking up for a second, she said, "I'm sorry, that's as far as I can take it." "It's okay! Just--" Flashing me a grin, she resumed, coordinating her lips, tongue and left hand to work my dick, while with her right teasing and caressing my tight and bloated balls. I could no longer lie still. I started to move my hips, trying to time my thrusts with Stacy's siphoning mouth. I reached out and tweaked Stacy's nipple so that I could return at least a little bit of the pleasure she was giving me. "Mmmmmhh!" she replied. Lifting her head, she exclaimed, "Oh, I can't stand it!" and climbed on top, stuffed my cock into her drooling snatch, and then sank all the way down, her expression, as well as mine I'm sure, pure erotic bliss. Stacy leaned forward now, our eyes locking. As we moved together, I gathered her smallish tits in my hands and pushed them together so that the nipples bulged. I nibbled and licked as Stacy moaned and writhed atop my pile driver prick. When I placed my thumb on her clit she went off; I picked that moment to do the same. We mashed our mouths together as I filled her with thick, syrupy gobs of sperm. As we slowed down, I could feel rivulets of our mingled juices running from her into my pubic hair. We looked at each other and started to giggle. "Well, I guess we can talk now," she said at last, nestling in my arms. "I think we're lovers." "Uh-huh." "Was it like this for you and Dad?" "Not quite like this. He was so much older. He took his time. I liked that." "You seemed pretty enthusiastic about this." "I wasn't expecting this, Charles. I'm on as uncertain ground as you." "You've had some experience with this, though. Did Mom know?" "I don't think so." "How did you keep it from her?" "Oh, that was easy. You know she works 8:30 to 4:30 editing the entertainment section for the Eagle. Dad sold real estate. We only had to wait until she was out of the house." "That was it? You never took a chance while she was here?" "Sure we did. That was some of the best. One time when Mom was washing dishes I blew Dad on the living room sofa while he was watching the news. He was furious, but he didn't stop me. I had him licked clean and zipped up just about the time Mom finished drying the dishes." "You never felt bad about it? Did you ever try to break it off?" "You want to hear every sordid detail, don't you, Charles?" I did; I was half erect again already. "How did it start?" I asked. *** Stacy said: The thing with Dad started about four years ago, when I was a freshman in college. You'd already moved to the city by then. Like you, I had no choice but to go to the state school because I could save a fortune on room and board living here. "I remember." Well, I was on the cross-country team and running three miles a day for the fall tournament. This was in early October, the sun was out, the foliage was bright and colorful, and I was just letting my mind wander and enjoy the autumn instead of paying attention to where I was going. I hit a tree root, twisted my ankle, and smacked my shoulder against a tree. My ankle couldn't bear any weight, and I was out for the season. You'll also remember that this was the time Mom wanted a trial separation, too, so it was just Dad and me. I was an emotional wreck. I had to get around on crutches, my leg was bound up, I could hardly do anything for myself. But Dad was so sweet about it. He arranged his whole schedule so he could take care of me when I needed him. It was awkward for the first week or so, because I needed to take a shower while sitting on a folding chair and I needed help getting dressed. Dad kept getting these spontaneous erections while helping me with my clothes. It was embarrassing at first, but I began to enjoy teasing him, you know, flirtatious fun. I think the pain killers I had to take had something to do with that. But it was starting to get to Dad, what with the situation with Mom and all. There was one afternoon, I think it was Sunday, when I was having trouble maneuvering myself down to the family room to read for a while. Dad was in his sweats, and I was wearing a sleeveless brown pullover and white shorts. I nearly tumbled down the stairs, so Dad said, "Wait a minute." He tossed my crutches down and picked me up as though I was as light as a butterfly. I gave him a pretty smile and rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me. He took me over to the couch and the back of my hand accidentally brushed his crotch as he put me down. It was as if he had a hot stone in his pants. He blushed beet red. "Am I doing that to you, Dad?" I tried to be coy and innocent. "No, uh, not really ... Are you comfortable, because I haven't had my run today, and--" "It's okay, Dad. I do know something about boys, you know." "With your mother gone ... Well, Stacy, men need sex to keep from going crazy like we need food to stay alive. Do you understand?" "Girls need sex too," I said, shifting a little and hefting my bad leg onto the couch. I now had one leg up and the other trailing toward the floor, so they were a little bit apart. Dad was getting a pretty good view. I remember him swallowing. I could now see the outline of his cock through his sweats. We stared at each other for a few seconds, both thinking the same thing. I'm pretty sure he spent a lot of time fantasizing about me, and I know I wondered, as all girls do, what it would be like to fuck your own father. But if he made a move, would I let him go through with it? Finally, he took a step closer and began to caress my thigh. "You're healing up?" he asked. "Doctor says I can be off the crutches in about a week." "So what I'm doing doesn't hurt?" "No, I like it. Keep going." He did. His fingers slid under the hem of my shorts and just brushed my pussy lips. I was paralyzed with suspense. How far would he go? I wondered. Dad brought his face down and his tongue flicked out. "Dad!" I gasped. "Maybe this game's going a little far." He nibbled the back of my knee, and I couldn't believe the erotic charge that had. He knelt down, got his shoulders between my legs and licked his way up. He slid his hands under my ass. I could feel myself losing control as his hot breath wafted between my legs; the closer he got to my pussy, the hornier I became. The part of my brain that knew what we were doing was wrong became quieter and quieter until it disappeared altogether when Dad got the tip of his tongue under my panties. "Jesus, Dad!" He looked up and started to say something, but I cut him off by popping the button on my shorts and unzipping them. Dad grabbed both my shorts and panties and slid them off me. I was naked from the waist down, and he hadn't taken off a thing. Dad's tongue slithered into me and he tormented me a little by licking all around and just missing my clit. He had me squirming. I dug my fingers into his hair and finally managed to get him onto my sweet spot. That was when he put a couple of fingers in and stopped playing around. I was panting and huffing like the bitch in heat I was when Dad finally hit it and I was off to the moon. "Dad! Dad!" I cried out. "Don't stop!" Dad's head bobbed with more force, and I came for a second time. Dad lapped it all up. I came close to hyperventilating, but eventually I calmed down and Dad got up. "You're not leaving!" I exclaimed. "You can't leave me like this." But Dad just stood there with a big grin on his face and started peeling off clothing. Teasing me again; I wanted to see his cock more than anything, but everything else came off first. I was truly astonished at how fit he was. I'd seen Dad with his shirt off before, of course, but that was always at the beach or when he was mowing the lawn. I never thought that big, broad and hairy chest would soon be covering my own. Not an ounce of fat on him, terrific muscle tone, just enough of a tan. Finally, the sweats came off, and I got my first real look at a real hard-on. It stood out like the prow of a frigate, red and shiny. The head was throbbing, and I could feel the blood rushing to my head at the thought of what that big angry thing might do to me. Dad stepped forward and I felt his hands go under my blouse to remove it. I wore a front-clasp bra, and he snapped it open with a single flick of his finger. My boobs fell free, and my nipples stiffened right away in the cool basement air. "I know they're not much," I said. "They're gorgeous," Dad said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Stacy." Naked now, I lay back on the couch, a little bit nervous, a tiny bit afraid, as my father towered over me, his proud, stiff cock bobbing inches from my face. After a moment, I leaned forward and ran my fingers along the length, the first cock I'd ever had in my hand. "Dad was your first?" First and only until you, Charles. I spent a few minutes getting to know it. I stroked it gently at first, played with Dad's balls, and was amazed when a little drop of liquid formed on the tip. I looked up at Dad for a little help, and he inched his hips forward. I licked the drop off the head. That's when Dad joined me on the couch and took me into his arms. We embraced, his cock radiating heat as it lay pulsating on my inner thigh. For a long, agonizing moment, Dad looked deep into my eyes. "If you're going to stop this, do it now," he said, "while I can still walk away." I gave him a nervous little kiss on the lips in reply. Dad's kiss was much more forceful. I felt his tongue push against my teeth and knew what he wanted me to do. I had never felt a kiss like that. It sent fire down to my fingertips. He pulled me even closer and his naked chest crushed against my tits, flattening them. "Oh, Dad!" I sighed when the kiss broke. "That's so intense!" "I love the way you kiss, Stacy," he replied, and gave me another, but this time he brushed his fingers along the swell of my breasts, making me moan into his throat. Between my legs I could feel his cock almost at the entrance to my pussy. All I would have to do is slide down a little. But Dad kissed his way down to my chest and started to nibble my tits, and at the same time he fingered my clit again. He was driving me crazy. I was beginning to think we were never going to complete our lovemaking. I wondered if there was something holding him back, if the illicit nature of what we were doing was preventing him from going all the way. But Dad brought his lips to mine again. As our tongues danced their tango, I reached down, grasped his cock and held it for a moment, letting it pulsate against my palm for a moment, and then I gave a gentle tug and pulled it right up to my pussy. Dad finally took over, thrusting his hips forward and slipping his cock, the cock that created me, slowly inside. "You've never done this before, have you?" "No, Dad." "I'm going to bust your cherry, and that's going to hurt. But if we give this a little time, it'll be terrific. Trust me, honey." He jammed his prick into me as deep as it would go, and I cried out. Dad held me in his arms for a moment, giving me a chance to get accustomed to the telephone pole lodged in my snatch, feeling it throb and burn inside me. Our mouths ground together again as he began to move inside me at last. "Oh, Dad, I'm seeing stars!" "Sweet Stacy," he whispered as he rammed his cock into me and out again, "my beautiful little girl." The pain slowly faded away and I lost all thought except that of matching my hip thrusts to his, to take that magnificent prong as deep into my snatch as I could, to give Dad my deepest and truest love. We kissed and moaned together, our breath coming in short, hot bursts. I remember clenching my teeth when another orgasm came on. "Dad!" I barked. "Let it go! Let it go!" Dad stared deeply into my eyes as I felt his cock get even harder, and then the strange and wonderful sensation of his orgasm, little hot fireballs going off deep in my pussy. "Dad! Harder! Harder!" "Stacy, Stacy, Stacy," he whispered as he continued thrusting his cock into me, "oh sweet Stacy." I'll never forget the look on his face after it was all over and we pulled apart. We cleaved together on the sofa as our juices mingled together, unable to speak, but sharing kisses and cuddles, not wanting to break the spell. Now we faced the same dilemma you and I do, Charles, but neither of us wanted to talk about it right then. "It's getting late," he said. "That was terrific, Dad," I said, kissing him lightly. "You're the best." "For once, I'm at a loss for words, darling," he said. "We should be getting to bed." "Whose?" He grinned. "Mine." He picked me up and we went upstairs to his and Mom's bedroom. I knew we were going to make love again, and we did, this time much more tenderly. I don't think ever slept so soundly, until last night. *** Needless to say, I had a raging hard-on by the time she finished that story. "I see you enjoyed my little narrative," Stacy said, gently fondling my cock. "I think I'm the horniest man alive right now," I said, lying back and letting my mind go blank as my body responded to Stacy's sweet ministrations. I closed my eyes and just let her fingers play with my cock, tickle my balls and making them tingle. When I was close, my sister's lips closed around the head and I exploded in her mouth. Stacy licked and sucked until I ran dry. My balls had that pleasant sensation of being fully emptied, and to be ready next time. But would there be a next time? I still didn't know. "We'll talk later," Stacy said, rising and donning her robe. "We need time to think about things." Sounds from the kitchen. Mom had gotten up and now I was ravenously hungry. I took the opportunity to take a shower and face a new phase in my life. Little did I know there would be further surprises still to come. Stacy's Secret Ch. 03 The first few days of a new affair are always the most exciting. For the next week, Stacy and I hid out whenever we could, doing everything we could think of with each other's bodies. The fact that we were brother and sister failed to matter; we were both (thoroughly) consenting adults and she was on the pill. When I was with Stacy, I felt as giddy as an astronaut the first time up, gazing with wonder at all the beauty of the world. But on planet Earth, we had more mundane things to deal with, including the depressing task of what to do with Dad's personal effects. Mom sent me to the garage to take inventory, while she, for the first time, set foot in Dad's study. He had never allowed that while he was alive. So, for the next couple of hours I sorted through fishing tackle, power tools, books, boxes, and toys. I went to the study with the results of my findings, only to be shocked by my mother's appearance. She sat on the sofa, sobbing quietly, and uncharacteristically, had put away a few belts of Scotch. On the coffee table were several photographs and a stack of videotape. I looked up at the screen, and watched in shock as my gorgeous little sister sucked merrily away on Dad's cock. A wave of irrational jealousy flooded through me. It's one thing to hear her tell it, but quite another to see it happen. They were in this room; Stacy was on her knees only in bra and panties while Dad's head rolled back against the sofa, his pants open. Despite my anger, I found an erection growing in my pants. Did Stacy know about this? I wondered. I followed the natural camera angle to the mirror behind Dad's desk. As Mom continued to watch the tape, I found that the mirror was on hinges. Pulling it open, we discovered that what we thought was a tool shed was actually a small recording studio. A digital video camera was aimed right at the couch. "That-- that-- bastard!" Mom spat when she saw what I had discovered. Then her delicate, birdlike face softened and she came over to me. "I'm so sorry, Charles," she said after blowing her nose. "I never meant for you to see any of this." I gave her a quick hug. She went back to the sofa, shut off the TV, and drained her glass. I joined her. "That wasn't rape," she told me. "He and Stacy were actually having an affair. Here! In my house! And all this time I thought it was Karen at the country club." Mom poured herself another glass of Scotch while I sorted through the photos. Stacy jacking Dad off, Stacy impaled on his prick, Stacy nude, Stacy in lingerie. My cock was now fully swollen, and bent in half under my zipper, but I was hardly in a position to adjust it. "How did they fool me like this?" she asked the empty air. "How long has it been going on?" She started to cry again. I took her in my arms and, much as I had with Stacy, let her cry it out. I caressed her soft blonde locks, which only now showing a little gray at the roots. I kissed away the tears on her high, proud cheeks, and resisted a powerful urge to keep kissing, to nuzzle her slender swan's neck, part the zipper on her tight black skirt … Mom pulled free, took another sip of Scotch, and got a look at the oversized tennis ball throbbing in my pants. "Oh, my," she said. "Is this turning you on?" I blushed to my toes. "Sorry, Mom, I can't help it." "Straighten it out, Charles, before you hurt yourself." Mom stood up when I did and went to close the door. With great relief, I straightened my difficult dick. Mom was a little shaky on her feet when she came back to the sofa. I took her arm to steady her and try to puzzle out the look in her eyes. I fired a shot in the dark. "You're a little turned on yourself, aren't you?" I said. Mom swallowed and our eyes, our identical green eyes, searched one another as she nodded slowly. "I've never been a passionate person," she said softly. "I knew your father had other women, and, really, I didn't mind. It took the pressure off me. But seeing this … Charles, I don't know what to feel." She did not resist when I pulled her into my embrace, and tilted her chin for our first intimate kiss. Even considering what I had been doing with my sister, the experience of kissing my mother like this was strange and overwhelming. I put my hands on her pert little ass and pulled her close, letting my heat and hardness radiate against her pussy. I probed her mouth with my tongue and she yielded. I ground my cock against her and let my hands roam all over her body. She broke the kiss when I tried to cup her small, perky tits. "I haven't been kissed like that in a long time," she said. "Kiss me again." This time I found the zipper to her skirt, startling her. It slid slowly down her hips and legs to the floor, and I shoved my burning cock against her again. Mom reached between us and gave it a cautious squeeze. "It's so hard, Charles." Mom surprised me by dropping to her knees and unbuckling my belt. She slowly opened my zipper and my pants fell to the floor. She ran her fingernail along the outline in my underwear, fascinated with it, watching it twitch with desire, desire for her. She squeezed my balls, and I began to wonder if she was going to change her mind. I was too far gone to let that happen. I yanked my briefs down and there it was, eight inches of florid, torrid incestuous lust bobbing just under Mom's nose. I dug my fingers into her hair and maneuvered my cockhead just under her lips. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she whispered. "Play with it, Mom," I said in a hoarse whisper. "Get to know it, because it wants more than anything to know you." "Do they still call this a hand job?" she asked as her fingers slid up and down my throbbing meat. As she stroked me with one hand, she was opening her white blouse with the other. I could feel my balls getting tighter when she suddenly stopped. "Don't worry, Charles," she said, shirking the garment to the floor, and was now down to her lacy black bra and panties. She started masturbating me again, only now with a more intense effort. Mom's world had now shrunk to her hand and the pulsating fiery cock in it. Her eyes shone with concentration as, she told me later, the erotic skills she'd acquired as a young girl, long in disuse, came back fresh and new. Her strokes slowed, her free hand came up to tickle and tease my balls, which were getting tighter by the stroke. "Mom," I rasped, "I'm getting pretty close." She just looked up at me, gave me a tight, conspiratorial smile, and went back to the job at hand. How I wanted to thrust my hips forward and get my dick between those thin, elegant lips! I could wait no longer. My balls exploded, sending gobs and gobs of white, hot spunk into the air, raining on Mom's nose, cheekbones, hair, shoulders, cleavage. She laughed and playfully caught a drop on the tip of her tongue, which gave me an extra erotic thrill. Yet her hand never slowed as she milked my prong for every spurt it was worth. When I stopped spewing, she rubbed some of my jism into the skin above her chest, and then went into the small bathroom on the other side of Dad's desk. As I heard the water running, I took the opportunity to remove the rest of my clothing. So did Mom. I stood there and stared, watching my mother reveal more and more of the slender, delicate body she had done so much to keep youthful. I hadn't seen her breasts since I was an infant. They were small, about the size of grapefruits, but her nipples were standing out like cherry pits, and that's when I knew she was sincere about this, that it wasn't just the Scotch making her behave this way. Soon Mom and I were standing naked before one another, hot and ready. My cock was back at attention when we kissed now, our naked bodies writhing together with raw sexual hunger. I pushed Mom back onto the sofa and buried my face in her dark blonde bush. "Charles!" she cried when my tongue slithered into her pussy. "No one's ever-- Uh! Uh!" I replaced my tongue with two fingers and began to lick at her fully distended clit, which poked at me like a little red penis. My finger action and my tongue were having the desired effect: Mom cried out and mashed her thighs together, trapping my head and making it hard to breathe, but I continued licking away. "Coming! Oh, God! Coming!" Mom's thrashing slowed down after the third orgasm. I licked my way up her sleek body, caressing her ass and thighs. She cried out again when I took one of her nipples between my teeth. My cock stood poised at her pussy, just waiting for me to give a thrust. When our lips met again, I felt Mom's hand grasp my cock and pull it forward. That moment of first penetration was sweet and electrifying. Mom's lovely face was a confused mix of lust, drunkenness and a little bit of terror. I slid half way in and stopped. "Oh, Charles," she whispered. "What are you doing?" "Mom, are you sure?" In answer she shifted her pelvis down, drawing me all the way in. There was no stopping it now. To my surprise, Mom's pussy was almost as tight as Stacy's; it was clear no one had been in there for quite some time. Well, that's going to change, I thought as I thrust into her, sinking all the way to my balls. Mom wrapped her legs around mine and I felt her arms slide around my back as we ground our groins together. I could now see another orgasm brewing behind her eyes and redoubled my efforts, my balls bouncing against her taut ass, my insistent cock seeming to gain another inch. "Charles! Charles! I'm going to--" "Let it happen, Mom!" "Oh, Charles! CHARLES!" Mom's head whipped back against the sofa pillow, her eyes closed, her lovely face red and wild. I could hold back no longer. My balls fired a full salvo into Mom's gushing pussy. "Mom! I'm coming! Coming in you!" "Harder, darling!" Another hard thrust, and a deep, soulful kiss as I blasted another jet into her, and then another. We groaned and cried out in inarticulate passion. Then our rhythm slowed and our bodies slipped apart. We lay naked on the sofa, cradling each other in our arms. Mom began to cry again. "Oh, Charles, what have we done?" "Are you all right?" "I-- I think so. This was insane." "I know you enjoyed it, Mom." "I was just so upset about your Dad and Stacy. I thought if he could, then so could I." "Mom, I think the problem you're having is that you loved what we just did together. You loved me coming all over you. You loved me coming inside you. I could tell it's been a long time since you and anyone--" "Until just now, only your father. It had been a couple of months, but for such a long time I only did it because I thought I had to. This was just so … intense." I gave her a gentle kiss. "I love you, Mom." "Oh, Charles. Things will never be the same, will they?" I shook my head. "What about Stacy?" "What about her?" "We can't let her know about this!" "I know." "It will never happen again, Charles. This was a huge mistake. Promise me." "I promise." "We must pretend it never happened." But my cock was beginning to stir again, and Mom felt it brush along her leg. "Oh, no," she whispered when I nibbled her neck. "Charles, we can't." I ignored her pleas as I pushed her gently back on the sofa and opened her legs again. My dick slid smoothly into her, lubricated by our mingled juices. I thrust in short, quick strokes, and massaged Mom's clit as I did so. Once again, she brought her lips to mine, and any pretense that our coupling was going to be a one-time episode drifted away like steam as she called my name again, declared her love, her lust for me. I buried my full length into Mom and stopped, letting my dick throb inside her. "This doesn't feel like a mistake now, does it, Mom?" "N-no." "Doesn't this feel wonderful?" "Yes, dearest, yes," she whispered. "This is only the first of many times, isn't it, Mom?" "Oh, yes, Charles." "All right, then." Mom really put her back into it this time as we went a little slower to savor the experience. Having blown two full wads I could afford to take my time and give her the thorough loving she clearly craved. "Oh, Charles, don't ever stop!" "Mom, I love-- oh! Mom!" "I'm there!" she barked. As Mom came again, I let my jism loose inside her, no doubt now, no hesitancy, just the pure joy of wallowing in our mutual desire. This time, we lay, exhausted, kissing and whispering endearments to each other. But as we came down from our lovers' high, I realized there was a serious problem to be faced. But right then, all I could hear in my head was the refrain of that song about being in love with Stacy's Mom.