4 comments/  45811 views/  8 favorites

The Summer of ‘98

By: BrettK79



I am writing this story because I am obsessed with my cousin. She used to write about us and publish them on the web. Unfortunately, these stories were merely her fantasy and did not reflect what really happened between us. I am going to set the record straight. Julie portrayed herself as a cute, sweet innocent girl. Well she was cute and sweet, but far from innocent. In this story, I will attempt to tell the true story from both my perspective and Julie's, not how she would tell it, but according to what really happened. I do this with the hope that she will read it and rekindle our relationship. It has been thirteen years since we explored each other during the hot summer nights of 1998.

Before I turn the story over to her, allow me to introduce her. When Julie was a baby, her parents were killed in a horrible accident; she was only a year old. Shortly thereafter, she came to live with us. I don't remember that because I was two. We treated each other as brother and sister until after my first year of college. In fact, most of our friends thought we were siblings.

I would describe Julie in one word: passionate. When she decides to do something, she jumps in with her entire being. Nothing she does is half-assed; it is all or nothing. Julie is an athletic girl with shoulder length sun streaked dark blonde hair and a smile that lights up any room. She is a little taller than the average female but height runs in our family. Her boobs are full but not huge; I think she is a C cup but I am not sure. They are quite firm with turned up nipples and light pink areolas. I love to watch her nipples puff out when she gets excited. Her best features are her muscular legs and ass. She could literally smother you when she wraps those legs around you. She played soccer and volleyball in high school and reminds me somewhat of Hope Solo.

What about me, perhaps I should let Julie describe me. Since I am writing both parts, I will only say that I am tall with dark wavy hair. Although I am not as good-looking as my cousin is, I am attractive. I have always been in good shape as I went to college on a soccer scholarship. My physical attributes are normal. I am not huge but quite adequate in that department. Enough about me, let's journey back to the summer of 1998.

Julie's story

******************************************

Where am I? What is this strange feeling? A warm feeling is creeping up my body. It starts at my toes, pauses between my thighs and works its way up to my nipples. My face is flush while I struggle to open my eyes. My brow furrows as I adjust to the dark. I am in my bed lying on my back naked; legs apart and knees bent. Noisy slurping sounds alerted me the source of my pleasure. The scratching of beard stubble against my inner thighs told there was a man down there. Peering down, I saw a shock of wavy brown hair moving slowly up and down. Scooting up, I grab a hand-full of hair and tilt his head back to view his face. My heart was pounding at what I saw.

"Brett, what are you doing here?"

"What does it look like? I'm eating."

"I can see that, but who invited you?"

"You did," he explained. "When we were talking earlier tonight you asked me why I was walking around last night. When I can't sleep, I go looking for something to eat. You told me I should come in and talk."

"I didn't mean that you should eat me. After all, you are my cousin and some things should be between lovers. Nevertheless, you found something to eat and now we're talking. But there is one small inconsistency."

"What's that?"

"You should always finish what you start," I winked.

I let go of his hair and his head dropped back into place. A sigh escaped my lips as his tongue slowly divided my pussy lips. I felt them swell as my juices ran down the crack of my ass. Brett slurped them up as his tongue travelled up to my clit and back down to my ass. Clutching his hair, I pulled him closer. The flat of his tongue lapped at my clit electrifying my nipples. I let go of his hair with one hand and moved it up to squeeze my tits. Massaging my breasts, I tweaked one nipple and then the other. My head rocked side to side gasping for air as Brett's tongue continued its assault on my swollen pussy. The only sounds in the room were my heavy breathing and the squishy sound emanating from below. As Brett increased the pace, my ass lifted off the bed. My body had a mind of its own now and could not help itself.

"Oh god...yes...right there, Brett...please don't stop," I moaned.

He didn't. He rolled his tongue and inserted it into my drenched pussy. My eyes shot open and I humped his tongue involuntarily.

"Fuck me Brett," I screamed. "Fuck me with your tongue."

"Quiet Jules, you'll wake Mom and Dad."

"I don't care," I whimpered. Shut up and make me come. I can't take it anymore."

Brett was insistent now. I shook and flailed about as Brett attacked me with his tongue. A cock couldn't be better, I thought. No time to think now, my virgin pussy would have to wait while I gave myself up to the consuming onslaught of Brett's mouth and tongue. The room dimmed, and I couldn't think at all. Nothing else mattered except the pleasure I received. There were no sights, sounds or smells, just the relentless pounding of my dripping pussy. My pelvis rocked in time to Brett's rhythm.

"You're going to make me cum, Brett. I'm going to cum on your tongue."

He let out a muffled grunt and licked me feverishly up and down pausing to circle my clit. Again, I lost control and humped his face. Grabbing my thighs, Brett regained control of my thrashing body. My pussy and nipples were on fire now. Every time his tongue touched my clit, a bolt of electricity pulsed through by body. I can't take much more, I thought. I was right. Brett latched onto my clit with his mouth while driving two fingers into my pussy. My thighs clamped together smothering Brett. He continued to saw two fingers into my cunt while circling my clit with his tongue. Wide-eyed, I bolted to a sitting position and grabbed Brett by the ears. My toes curled as my pelvis tightened and exploded.

"I'm cumming Brett," I shrieked. "Ohhh...Ohhh...Ohhh," I cried as my whole body shuddered. "I'm cumming on your tongue right now! Oh god, I'm cumming so hard."

My hips jerked as my cunt pulsed and shot several loads of pussy juice onto Brett's face. Gasping for air, I lay back in my bed. When my pussy quit throbbing, I sat up. Where's Brett? Suddenly there was a knock at my door.

"Who is it," I croaked. Brett peeked in.

"Are you OK? I heard a scream."

"Yeah, I'm OK," I managed. I tried to cover up my exposed boobs, but I had to extract my fingers from my pussy first.

"I must have had a bad dream," I said pulling the sheet up to my shoulders. I'm not sure what Brett could see in the dim room. Nevertheless, my twin peaks were still on high beams as my chest rose and fell beneath the drenched sheet.

"Do you want to talk or get something to eat?" Brett offered.

"No, I've had enough talking and eating for one night," I said. "I just want to clean up," I slipped. "I mean get back to sleep."

"Alright," he said. "We can talk in the morning if you want."

Brett gently closed the door and padded down the hall to his room. Geez, if Brett heard me, who else was awake? I couldn't think about that now, my bed was a wreck. I cleaned up and put clean sheets on. What the fuck was that? Never in my eighteen years have I experienced anything like this. I have never had sex, even though I think about it constantly. I'm not counting self-love. I masturbate at least once a day, but I have never cum that hard or ever squirted. My fantasies usually involved a celebrity or one of my cousin's friends. Now I've had sex with my cousin, well sort of.

My mind wandered as I slipped naked between the cool sheets, my fingers roving over the wispy down covering my virgin pussy. What would it be like with Brett? Dare I try something? Well, tomorrow is another day and he did invite me to talk. I slipped a finger into my moist pussy. Hmm, that feels good. How shall I seduce Brett? Just the thought of seducing him made me wetter. But how? Should I walk in naked and say, "Want to suck your little cousin off?" No, I need something more subtle, something that involves a little skin. Sighing, I closed my eyes and drifted off dreaming of ways to make myself irresistible.

Brett's story

******************************************

I'd been away at college for almost a year. I did come home for holidays and some weekends, but I usually partied with friends to relieve some of the stress of engineering majors. My parents must have heard the door shut on my Chevy Blazer, because they came out to greet me. After some small talk, we went inside.

"Julie, your cousin's home," Mom called out. Following a flurry of activity, Julie bounded down the stairs and into my arms. Pressing her body into my chest, she smothered my neck with kisses. Her breasts were noticeably larger than I remembered. Backing away Julie apologized.

"Sorry for the sweat," she said. "I've been working out."

"I feel your efforts have paid off," I said wiping my chest. "You look great, Jules. Maybe we can work out together sometime," I smiled eyeing her heaving chest. I glanced away hoping she hadn't noticed.

"I'd like that," she winked.

Mom broke the tension by suggesting that we get ready for dinner. I grabbed my bags and followed Julie up the stairs. I couldn't keep my eyes off her ass as we walked the 14 steps to the second floor landing. What a tight little package, I thought. Too bad, she's my cousin.

"I'll see you in a few," she said. "I need a quick shower."

I remained motionless watching Julie's ass disappear into her room. Get hold of yourself, I thought. That's exactly what I'd do if this teasing continued. Once in my room, I put my clothes away and sat down on the bed. Still looks the same; doesn't anything ever change? I heard the door open to the bathroom between our rooms. Julie was humming and setting things on the counter. I glanced up to see the door on my side was open a crack and Julie made no effort to close it. We did that a lot when we were kids so the steam wouldn't build up. I never cared before, but now there was a woman on the other side and my carnal instincts took over.

I saw glimpses of flesh pass back and forth with the limited view I had. Was that her boob or an elbow? I needed a closer look. Walking to the dresser, I pretended to change my t-shirt. Through the 2-inch crack, I glimpsed her naked ass and shapely legs before she disappeared into the shower. While she hummed and sang, I stripped and put a towel around my waist so I would be ready for my shower when Julie was done. Suddenly the door flung open to my room giving me a brief flash of her glistening body before wrapping herself in a towel.

"No fair peeking," she announced. "The shower is all yours. It's too bad we can't bathe together like when we were kids."

"That might be a little awkward," I advised.

"I see," she said glancing at my towel. "It's just that I miss those days."

Julie grabbed a hand towel and bent over to dry her hair. I saw some nice cleavage as she vigorously dried her hair. The towel under her arms loosened slightly and threatened to fall down.

"We have new days ahead," I assured her.

"I hope so. Now get in the shower," she said popping the hand towel in my direction.

The force loosened her towel giving me a brief glimpse of her pink areolas but Julie caught it before baring her nipples. I slipped into the shower as Julie left the room. Is Julie flirting with me, I wondered. No, she wouldn't. Looking down, my erection said yes. Why would she flirt with me? Surely, she has boys lining up. I pondered this while stroking my cock. I needed some release soon as my balls were beginning to ache. Maybe I should go to the club tonight and meet a nice girl.

"You'd better hurry up," she called startling me back to reality. "We'll be late for dinner."

I turned off the water and stepped on the bathroom rug. Finding only a small hand towel, I wrapped it around my waist. Turning around I was surprised to see Julie's door open. She was sitting at her makeup table with her back to me.

"Hey. What happened to all the towels?" I barked. I noticed three or four towels strewn about on her bedroom floor, and Julie wasn't wearing one. It wasn't apparent at first because she was sitting in a high-backed chair. However, I got a good look at her tits through the reflection in the mirror. She leaned in close to the mirror to apply mascara and glanced up at me.

"Peeking again?"

"Uh, no," I stammered. "I just thought you would have a towel on."

"It was hot," she replied objectively.

"So am I," I muttered retreating to my room.

I didn't see Julie again until dinnertime. Dressed in a sparkly black hip-length shirt, tight jeans and boots, she was a knockout. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. It must be contagious, because when I looked up; Julie looked into eyes and moistened her lips with her tongue. Is it just my imagination or is something happening between us. My cocked swelled and I had to excuse myself. Once in the bathroom, I adjusted myself and used the blow dryer to get rid of the wet spot on my jeans. I stuffed a wad of toilet paper in my briefs to sop up any future leakage and returned to the table.

"Do you kids want to have a nice evening and play games tonight?" Mom asked. Julie spoke first.

"I thought we'd go to the club with some friends."

"Well, have a nice time, and don't drink too much."

"Oh Mom," Julie whined. "We can only drink 3-2 beer and Brett doesn't drink. He can be the designated driver."

That seemed to satisfy Mom and we escaped into the night laughing all the way to the Blazer. We picked up four of our friends and arrived at the Club Rodeo about 9 pm. The band began playing and the beer was flowing.

"Thanks for covering for me about not drinking; I am not in training right now."

"No sweat Cuz," she assured me taking hand. "Come on cowboy, this girl wants to dance."

Oh, could that girl dance. All eyes, at least mine were on her, when the band sang 'Country Girl / Shake It for me'. I got hard just watching her. The next dance was slow and I drew Julie in close. I felt her hard nipples against my chest and I'm sure she felt my cock as her body melted into mine. By the time we finished the dance, my balls ached and pre-cum was leaking in a steady stream.

When we got back to the table, several more friends had arrived including Brittany my high school sweetheart. We were seeing other people now but old flames die slowly. She sidled up to me and whispered in my ear.

"Can you help me out Brett," she asked. "I want you to pretend that you're with me. I broke up with Steve last week and he has been bothering me."

"No problem," I said sliding my hand on her butt. "What's in it for me?"

"Down boy," she said. "The night is still young."

We grabbed some beer and walked over to a secluded booth. Brittany is a slim raven-haired beauty with a beautiful smile. Even though her tits are small, her nipples are very sensitive. Since our friends were over 21, they were able to buy hard stuff and Julie downed several tequila shots after I left.

"Looks like someone is jealous," Brittany remarked.

"Julie? No, it's just that it's my first night back and we came together."

"She won't have any trouble finding company," Brittany observed seeing several young men milling around her.

"Now, what seems to be bothering you?" she said as she slid her hand under the table between my thighs. "I think I know," she grinned squeezing my cock. "Let's work off some of that energy," she said as pulled me to the dance floor.

I didn't think dancing was a contact sport, until I met Brittany. She wanted to leave no doubt that I was her man. At every opportunity, she groped, fondled and ground herself into me. Julie took notice and tried to outdo Brittany. It was more like dry humping than dancing. Nevertheless, the sexual tension was high when we left the floor. As we slid into the booth, Brittany wrapped her arms around my neck pulling my lips down to hers and kissed me deeply. Her mouth was hungry and sweet as our tongues met. I slowly ran my fingers up her bare arm and tickled her arm on the way down. Her moans told me that her body was responding. After several minutes, I moved slowly to her neck and shoulders and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Slipping a hand in, I gently massaged the swell of her breasts. Her breathing deepened as I travelled down to the underside of her breasts. Slipping a finger under her bra, I lightly circled her nipples.

"Play me Brett," she begged. "Play me like that fiddle thing."

"Stradivarius," I corrected.

"Whatever," she whispered. "Just do it."

I like to warm a girl up before going for the prize and I find light touches work best. Her moans tell me if I am doing it right. The touches are similar to the pressure you would use on a laptop mouse pad. I call it the Stradivarius touch. It sounds sexier than saying 'I am going to touch you like a mouse pad'.

Brittany was definitely responding. She pushed her bra up giving me access while my fingers worked their magic. Brittany's warm breath came in ragged bursts as I lightly caressed her breasts and nipples. Leaving her breasts, my hand travelled down her belly. I rubbed my palm lightly across her stomach while nibbling and flicking my tongue on her lips. I knew she couldn't take much more.

"Feel how wet I am," she said guiding my hand under her skirt between her moist thighs.

I ran my fingers over her silky panties as we devoured each other with our mouths. Her mound swelled with desire as the wetness seeped through her panties. She struggled to catch her breath when I slipped a finger under her panties and into her wet pussy.

"I want you to make me cum," Brittany whispered.

"Here?" I asked.

"Yes," she panted pausing to slip her panties down. "No one can see us, it's dark."

I had diddled Brittany in public places before but not with so many people around. The thought excited me and there was a tablecloth hiding our activities. Angling her body towards me, Brittany curled one leg under her ass while the other leg dangled on the floor. Guiding my hand to her open pussy, I saw the flared pink lips begging me enter. Brittany trembled as I explored the moist outer folds of her swollen labia. When I slipped my middle finger in, she closed her eyes. Glancing around the room, I saw that no one paid us any attention. It must have looked like two friends involved in an intimate conversation. I slipped a second finger and curled it up searching for that little hard spot on the upper wall of her vagina.

"Oh, yes...right there, don't stop," she moaned while unzipping my jeans.

Reaching in, she released my pent-up dick. I heard the squishy noises as she slid her hand up and down my juicy cock. Julie was dancing with some cowboy while her tits jiggled under her blouse. Did she take off her bra I wondered? Watching Julie with my fingers buried in another girl's cunt was turning me on even more. The effect was electric. I pretended that Julie was jerking me off under the table. I didn't think I'd last very long so I got busy pleasing Brittany. Using my fingers like a cock, I slowly sawed them in and out while rubbing her clit with my thumb. When I increased the pace, her moans grew more insistent. I could tell she was getting close. I pressed deeply into her tunnel and flicked her clit on each stroke. With my free hand, I pinched her nipples. That's all it took.

"Oh shit I'm going to cum," She moaned her eyes snapping open. Brittany stopped stroking me and leaned forward burying her face in my chest. As her orgasm approached, she jerked me harder.


The Summer of 98



One of my ex-boyfriends gave me the basis of this story, hence why it's told from a male view point......

My neighbour, Mrs. Smith, became something of an obsession over the hot weeks during the summer of '98. You see, she was in the habit of sunbathing in her garden believing her shrubs, hedges and rather substantial fence protected her from prying eyes. Which they did, unless those eyes were looking from our attic window.

Ironically, it was because of the heat that I needed to open the window. I'd been packing some boxes up there and it was sweltering. The window, having been shut for years, was jammed and so I had climbed onto a chair to give it a good shove. It shot open and of course I looked out of it. That's when I spied the rather delicious Mrs. Smith in the most revealing of bikinis. She might have been a middle-aged lady of size fourteen proportions, but my eighteen-year-old cock certainly appreciated the view.

Well that's how it happened the first day. I ogled her body for a few minutes and then moved away, admonishing myself for being a peeping tom. The next day however, I convinced myself it was harmless fun and dug out my old binoculars. I couldn't resist giving Mrs Smith a more thorough examination. The x50 magnification virtually put her in touching distance.

I could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the bulge of her vulva as the bikini bottoms disappeared between her succulent looking thighs. Such a small thin strip of material protected her modesty.

She reached for her sun oil and poured some onto her chest. I gazed on in amazement as she moved the material to one side and rubbed oil onto her tits. I watched as her nipples became hard, her globes gleamed in the sunlight and I swear her breathing increased. She tweaked one nipple almost lazily. My dick twitched.

Still balanced on the chair and holding the binoculars to my eyes, I lowered my zipper and extracted my cock. Not an easy task while balancing on a chair, I can tell you.

Mrs. Smith meantime, had moved onto her belly. Her fingers swirled in oil and then disappeared under the material of her bikini bottoms. I stroked myself at a steady pace, hardly daring to hope she would lower them. Her hand stayed inside her panties and her hips started to buck, her mouth opened slightly, my own fingers keeping rhythm with her movements. I fucked Mrs. Smith inside my head. My hand pumping my hard dick as I imagined my cock sliding in and out of her hot body. We both reached a crashing orgasm five minutes later.

The same pattern followed for day two, three and four. Mrs. Smith obviously required regular relief and I enjoyed the free show. However, on the fifth day things took a new direction. I took up my vantage point later in the day than normal, which meant the sun was further up the garden and Mrs. Smith had moved her lounger. To my shock, it now faced towards my attic window. I quickly climbed back down off the chair, panicking that she was looking straight at me through those sunglasses. I then castigated myself for being such a coward. 

There was no way she would be scanning rooftops. I watched her for a while, the binoculars proving to be worth their weight in cum. She checked her watch, put on a wrap and disappeared back towards her house. Moments later, she reappeared with Mr. Smith in tow. She sat on the edge of the lounger while he stood in front of her. I could hardly believe my eyes as she reached up, unzipped him and released a respectably large cock. Her tongue swirled around his bell end and then the entire length disappeared into her mouth. Her lips bobbed back and forth along it with enthusiastic vigour. Mr. Smith gripped her by the hair, virtually fucking her face. From there things moved on at quite a pace.

Much to my delight, Mr. Smith went from mauling her oily globes to tugging the nipples and stretching her flesh. He then pushed her back and yanked her panties to one side, allowing me a brief uninterrupted view of her hot open cunt hole, before sinking his meat into his prone and wanton wife.

She welcomed him fully, locking her legs high over his back. With the powerful binoculars, I was able to witness the folds of her cunt cling to his cock on each withdrawal. I could clearly see his dick covered in her juice. I knew as his hairy balls bounced off her tight arsehole he wouldn't be able to keep up such a pace for long. Sure enough, he slumped forward, his body twitching as he emptied those large bollocks into her.

As he rolled clear Mrs Smith stayed legs akimbo, I watched the fresh sperm leak from her hole, I watched her trail a finger through it, collecting the white fluid from her gaping cunt. She then lifted it to her lips and drank it down. I shot my load.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

My mother's words made me jump to such an extent I fell off the chair. Landing with trousers still round ankles, binoculars still round neck and spunk residue on my belly.

She looked down at me, then went and peeked out the window before heading back down stairs.

"I'll deal with you later."

I listened to the phone call in a state of huge embarrassment, as my mother explained to Mrs. Smith I had been spying on her and that I owed her an apology at the very least. Thankfully my mother didn't go into full details and so it was the next day I handed the flowers to Mrs. Smith as I stammered and mumbled my apology.

Mrs Smith looked me up and down saying, "sometimes sorry isn't good enough Adam, I feel I need more, now strip."

"What?"

"You heard the lady Adam." It was Mr. Smith who appeared from no-where. "If you go peeking into other people's lives it's only fair if they peek into yours, now strip." 

He moved to cover my escape and I realised I had better just accept my punishment. If Mrs. Smith phoned my Mum and said I hadn't apologised, I'd be grounded forever. Within a minute, I was naked, my hands covering my manhood, my clothes in an untidy pile.

"Put your hands at your side Adam."

Mrs. Smith was looking right at my cock as she said it. She smacked it gently as she looked down and it jerked. 

"I think you like this game Adam." I watched her breasts heave under the thin wrap she wore. "I think peeping Toms are perverts. Are you a pervert, Adam?"

I found myself quickly saying "yes!"

She grasped me by my cock and led me through into the lounge. Sitting on the sofa, she pulled me forwards, my cock now directly in front of her mouth. Her tongue flicks had me fully erect and then her lips engulfed me.

Although I could hear Mr. Smith undressing behind me, I didn't care because Mrs Smith had opened her wrap and was showing me her welcoming cunt. The one I had been wanking over for the last five days. I reached down, my fingers brushing her hot sticky entrance. My knees seemed to give way, I was so eager to taste her. My own naked rear vulnerable as my tongue entered her. She held my head and I felt rough hands upon my butt cheeks. Rubbing, squeezing, then warm liquid, and then a hand pumping my rock hard cock. A finger trailed back up past my scrotum and onto my arse. More liquid and then pressure. A stubby finger entered my rear. The sensation was unbelievable. Mrs. Smith soothed me, told me to relax and it wouldn't hurt. She held my head firm between her thighs.

Mr. Smith was now comfortably pumping two fingers in and out of my virgin butt hole and I had to admit I was enjoying it. The pain had subsided and pleasure had taken its place. In fact, when he withdrew them completely, I felt empty. I reached back with my own hand, fingering my hole.

Mrs. Smith climbed under me and lay on the floor saying, "I want to watch." Then she put my cock into her mouth and I resumed licking between her open legs. I knew I was going to be mounted and in my lust, I wanted it!

Mr. Smith slapped my butt cheeks. I felt like a bitch, I felt hot, I felt like I needed fucking. His fingers worked my hole a little more and then I felt the head of his cock enter me. Mrs. Smith came in my mouth instantly at the sight of her husband sliding his cock into the neighbour's son's virgin butt hole.

He screwed me hard and I licked his wife's dripping hole harder. His cock pummelled my rear and he called me a slut. He pulled on my hair and told me to take it. Mrs. Smith was doing her best to fuck my mouth with her cunt, her heels pushed down on the floor, her hips bucking upwards. My tongue never left her hole, even as I agreed at Mr. Smith's insistence that "yes, I was a dirty little pervert and yes, I did love his big cock in my arse."

He shot a huge load into me moments later and I shot mine into Mrs Smith's waiting, hot, eager mouth. Mrs. Smith then had me bend over the arm of the settee and spread my butt cheeks. She examined my gaping hole before tonguing her husband's cum from it. I'd never felt so exposed, so used, so vulnerable.

When I eventually stood back up, Mr. Smith was nowhere to be seen. I dressed somewhat sheepishly and Mrs. Smith, still naked, showed me to the door saying, "perhaps I would learn to behave in the future."

She then added with a rather naughty twinkle in her eye, "Adam, Mr. Smith won't be here tomorrow. If you come round about midday, perhaps you could help me in the garden?"

The summer of '98 was a great summer, rain or shine, and my mother never realised she had opened Pandora's box.



The Summer of Discontent



The heat waves shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of Mother Nature's authority. Off to the left, the cicada could be heard, their buzz signaling the fishing village of another hot day. 

It was the summer of '69. It was the summer of discontent.

Rose opened the front door to the cottage, hoping for the hint of a breeze. Usually you could feel a breeze from the ocean, but not today. She leaned against the door, running an ice cube over her throat, letting the cold water run down her chest, between her breasts. She hated this place. She hated the life she had accepted as her own.

It was the same routine for the ten years she had been married to Charlie. When school was out they came to his cottage at the shore, where he ran a fishing charter business. He worked out on the boat all day and she was stuck in this God-forsaken fishing village. No friends, nothing to do, nowhere to go, even if he did allow her to drive the car. At night he complained of being either too tired to take her out or he had already made plans to play poker. If she had only known how her life would turn out, she never would have become involved with him.

Rose was in her final year at the university, with plans to graduate with a teaching degree in 1959. Charlie was one of the science professors there. Rose knew him by sight. All of the girls did. Tall, curly blond hair, and handsome was the proper description. He looked like a movie star. Although many a female student tried to catch the eye of this single mid-thirties professor, he appeared not to notice.

As Rose came out of the post office that spring morning she bumped into him, sending his packages flying. She muttered her apologies and stooped to help him. Instead, her head came into direct contact with Charlie's nose. Rose quickly offered him a white lace handkerchief from her handbag to help stop the bleeding. Charlie looked at this pretty coed, her cheeks red with embarrassment, and became immediately smitten. With her dark hair pulled back in a pony-tail and her blue eyes shining with the start of tears, all Charlie wanted to do was take her in his arms and keep her forever.

That was the start of their relationship. Until graduation, their meetings were "accidental" ones in public venues or in private places, outside of town. Charlie felt young again in the back seat of his Chevy. He felt like a teenager, necking, eventually getting to first base, under Rose's bra then, soon after, sliding his hand up her leg to her wet panties. Rose had not been completely willing on the night she lost her virginity. After dry-humping her, Charlie convinced her to let him just put it in a little and then he would pull it out. Once he moved her panties aside and felt her heat, he drove his cock home and didn't stop until he had cum. Now it was he who handed over a handkerchief, after he wiped her blood off his cock. He left her crying in the back seat while he stood outside and smoked a Lucky Strike.

As luck would have it, a child was conceived, so the day after graduation they were married by the local justice of the peace. Their honeymoon was in his cottage at the shore. Charlie helped Rose send her family a telegram about their nuptials, promising to visit at the end of summer.

At first Rose was excited about being at the ocean. She assumed there would be other couples or families. She didn't understand that the fishing village was just that -- a vacation haven for fishermen. She was also excited about making a home for her handsome husband and their baby. Rose was fortunate that she hadn't suffered from morning sickness. Her breasts and hips became larger while her waist stayed tiny, giving her a real hourglass figure. Charlie was thrilled that his young bride looked like a movie star, and never got tired of mauling her new mature body. It was his daily ritual of coming home from the boat, closing the door, forcibly pulling Rose's clothes off and ravaging her body. Rose hated that his hands smelled like fish and his breath smelled like beer and cigarettes. She hated the bite marks he left on her breasts and the bruises on the rest of her body. She hated it, but was also turned on by Charlie's domination of her.

After dinner when there wasn't a poker game, he made her walk around the cottage naked, slapping her ass when she walked by him. Sometimes he made her sit on the floor next to his chair, so he could reach down and pull on her nipples while he watched television. In bed, it wasn't uncommon for him to tie her wrists to the iron headboard. Rose didn't know any better. After all, Charlie was the only man she had known. She assumed this rough play was normal. Still, she longed to be held and touched gently.

In mid-July, she woke to cramps -- the kind Rose normally got with her period. Charlie was already gone for the day and there was no one around to hear her cries for help. Sitting on the toilet, tears caused by the fear and pain streaming down her cheeks, Rose lost their baby. She stayed sitting there for about an hour afterward, before running a bath and trying to soak away her physical and emotional pain. Even now, the sight of the bloodied water being flushed down was still a very vivid memory.

When Charlie got home that night he was more concerned about dinner not being made, than the loss of their child. He pretty much left Rose alone for the next week except for barking orders about his dinner each night. Alone in her grief, Rose spent her days sobbing and her nights all by herself in their bed. Charlie wouldn't sleep with her or even offer his arms to console her. Rose couldn't recall ever feeling that lonely.

After that, it was back to the same routine. Even though Rose was no longer pregnant, she kept her new womanly figure. Charlie swore she looked like Elizabeth Taylor in "Suddenly Last Summer". In what Rose perceived to be an act of kindness, one rainy day he drove her to a salon and had the hairdresser style Rose's hair the same as Taylor's. He bought her very tight capris and tops that showed off her decolletage. He was proud to have a young sexy wife at his disposal.

Charlie forgot about visiting Rose's family at the end of summer. He simply dropped a check in the mail to them and requested they ship him Rose's belongings. Charlie brought Rose back to his apartment but never did anything to make it feel like her home. When the boxes arrived from her parents, Charlie went through them and decided what she could keep. She had to stand by and watch her childhood be thrown out with the trash.

For ten years, Rose played the "trophy" wife. Charlie didn't allow her to work or join any clubs. The only friends she had were the wives of other professors, but they were more acquaintances than anything. She was his accessory, and dressed and did exactly as she was told. She and Charlie never conceived another child and while Charlie seemed fine with that, it left a huge void in Rose's life. It seemed like everything would remain the same -- cooking, cleaning and always being the wife Charlie expected. 

Back at the cottage for her tenth summer, Rose's frustration was at an all-time high. The world was changing. Flower power, hippies, Viet Nam War protesters were all in the news. While Rose was young enough to still appreciate music, albums like the Beatle's Yellow Submarine and groups like Jethro Tull were forbidden in Charlie's home. A woman jockey rode at Hialeah, Golda Meir was sworn in as Prime Minister of Israel, and "Oh Calcutta" opened in New York City (almost entirely in the nude). The world was changing, but not Charlie's wife.

Charlie allowed Rose to shorten her skirts a little, but in public she had to appear prim and proper. No bell-bottoms and no mini-skirts. Those were for his eyes only. At the cottage he wanted her in two-piece bathing suits, shorts and midi-tops. It was as if he was trying to show the men what a little slut he had. Rose was by herself most of the time, with old magazines the hair salon allowed her to take. She had to hide them from Charlie because they would have never met with his approval. She learned about women becoming powerful and independent. She learned about bra burning and free-love. She learned to satisfy herself. Rose's eyes were being opened to a new, modern world. She tried to share her feelings with Charlie, but that wasn't on his agenda. This summer, as she did every summer, she grieved the anniversary of their baby's death.

On this particular day, Rose decided a swim might do something to lighten her mood. Maybe if she cooled off a bit, she wouldn't feel so unsettled. She put on a white lace cover-up over her yellow two-piece suit. Even though she knew Charlie would prefer her in a one-piece bathing suit when she was out alone, Rose wanted to work on her tan.

It wasn't an official beach. There were no life guards, no chairs and umbrellas. It was just a little secluded area that the few locals used on the weekends. During the week it was all but deserted. Rose left her towel spread out on the sand, put on her bathing cap and walked to the water's edge. Waves splashed up on her painted toes. With no boats anywhere on the horizon, a confidence came over Rose. With a quick look over her shoulder to confirm she was alone, she removed her suit and left the pieces on the shore while she went for a swim.

Rose loved the times she dared to swim naked. The salt water's buoyancy made her feel like a sea nymph. Rose pretended she was a mermaid swimming with the dolphins. She lost herself in the fantasy of being captured by a handsome pirate. While she floated on her back, she ran her hands over her breasts and nipples, not realizing she was being watched.

Jake was Zeb and Martha's son. Born to them late in their lives, he was a well-built, handsome, young man, but with a mind that never grew up. An unfortunate bicycle accident froze his brain in time. Although he looked like Rock Hudson, except for the scar on the side of his head, he acted like a little boy. He wished he knew how to swim like Miss Rose, he thought, pulling up his bathing trunks a little. He liked Miss Rose because she was always nice to him. Not like Mr. Charlie -- he yelled sometimes. He saw her bright yellow suit lying on the sand and sat down next to it. He couldn't understand why her bathing suit was here and she was in the water.

While Jake watched her floating on her back, he picked up her suit and held it to him. Rose was unaware of his presence as she swam towards the shore and finally stood up to walk out of the water. Her body glistened as she took off her cap and shook out her hair. Rose looked to where she thought she left her things and quickly became confused. There Jake sat, a huge smile on his face, stroking his penis over his trunks, with her bathing suit. She lowered her cap to cover her crotch and placed her arm to cover her breasts.

"H....h....hi, Miss Rose," Jake stuttered nervously, staring at her nakedness.

Rose didn't want to panic the simple-minded young man. After all, this was just Jake, and he was always such a good boy. She spoke in soft, soothing tones, "Hi Jake, what are you doing this bright, sunny day?"

He kept staring and stroking. "Nothin', maybe looking for shells for my collection. I got hundreds of them. Hey, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?" Jake asked.

Jake's stare made Rose uneasy, as she glanced around hoping no one would see them. "Jake, may I have my bathing suit?"

"You got titties. That's what my papa calls them when he looks at his magazines," Jake said, as he grin got wider. "Pretty titties, pretty titties, pretty titties. My papa says you can drink from titties. He said they got milk, like a cow."

"Well Jake, that's true," Rose explained. "When a woman has a baby she can feed the baby milk from her breasts."

She was startled when Jake jumped up off the sand, stroking himself a little faster. His red bathing suit trunks were slipping down his hips as he came over to her.

"I like your titties. Let me see them, huh? Please? I'm a good boy," Jake pleaded.

Rose was unsure how to handle this, but decided that treating him like the young boy he was mentally, was the best course of action. At all costs, she did not want to upset him. Slowly, she lowered her arm and exposed herself. Jake leaned right over to take a closer look. Rose could feel his breath against her skin. Goose bumps formed and her nipples became hard and pointy. 

"Whoa, did you see that?" Jake asked excitedly, and then poked a nipple with his finger. "Look! I touched a tittie! I touched a tittie!" He tossed Rose's bathing suit aside and swooped her up by the waist, spinning her around and singing, "I touched titties. I got some titties. Hey! I want a drink!"

With that, Jake picked Rose up higher, captured one of her breasts in his mouth, and began to suck. Rose stifled a scream and wrapped her legs around him, in case he decided to drop her. She tried to push her body away, but Jake held her close. As shocked as she was, the feeling was not at all unpleasant. She didn't remember Charlie ever being so gentle.

"Nothing, there's no milk. Maybe the other one will be chocolate," Jake said excitedly.

Faster than Rose could react, he latched on to her left breast and began sucking again. An intense feeling of pleasure shot through her body. She felt a throbbing between her legs and a wetness start to form. Rose's body was beginning to yearn for something she hadn't found.

Again, she tried to pull back. Her feet got caught in the back of Jake's trunks, pushing them further down Jake's hips. She pushed against his shoulders with her hands, threatening to make him lose his balance and topple over, but he kept on sucking. She tried to fight it, but Rose began to enjoy the sensations her body was experiencing. When Jake pulled her a little closer, she rubbed against his abdomen. She felt her desires growing.

"Wow," Jake said, abruptly putting Rose down. "Look at my peter."

Jake pulled down his bathing suit, showing Rose his growing penis. She had only ever seen Charlie's, if you didn't count the babies she watched while she was in high school. She hadn't thought about covering herself up. She didn't think about whether they were being watched. All she could do was stare at this amazingly good looking man, with a little boy trapped inside of him.

"You don't have a peter, Miss Rose. My papa told me that boys stick out and so they can poke girls and make babies. I never poked a girl before. Why don't you have babies, Miss Rose? Doesn't Mr. Charlie poke you?" Jake asked with the innocence he still retained.

"God decided that my babies would stay in heaven, Jake," Rose answered, blinking back her tears.

"Miss Rose, don't cry. I'll hug you," he offered, pulling her into his arms.

With Jake's bathing suit now around his ankles, his hard penis was obvious. It rested against Rose's belly when he held her, leaving a trail of moisture. He pulled back but stayed within arm's length. Looking down he touched himself, with a long, slow stroke. Without warning, he reached out and cupped Rose's dark-haired mound. She immediately jumped back, falling on the sand.

Oh my God, she thought. Another man had touched her, without hurting. On her back with her legs spread, Jake quickly knelt between them, afraid he had hurt Rose.

"I'm sorry! I.... I.... I didn't mean to push you," Jake said. The poor boy looked like he might cry.

Rose sat up, concerned about Jake, and placed her hand on the side of his face. "It's all right, Jake, I'm fine," she said in a gentle voice. "See? I'm perfectly okay."

Jake took a long look at the beautiful, naked woman in front of him. Miss Rose was a lot prettier than the ladies in his papa's magazines. She was a nice lady, too. He looked at her face, down her body at her voluptuous breasts, to the dark hair between her legs. Nope, no peter, he thought.

Uncomfortable once more, Rose tried to scoot back in the sand, in order to close her legs. Jake's hands immediately went to her knees, pushing them apart.

"But I want to see," he said, leaning down to get a closer look.

She couldn't understand her excitement. Was it because of the unknown? The forbidden? She was someone's wife and this was a simple-minded young man. Still, the feel of his breath on her privates was more than she could take. She was suddenly brought down to earth by the touch of Jake's fingers.

"I want to see more."

Now, she didn't care -- not one bit. She had an itch so deep inside of her that needed to be scratched. Rose remembered when she used to feel this way with Charlie. It was a rare occasion now. If she were at home, she would be using her hairbrush. Instead, here was something else she could use.

"Let me show you, Jake," Rose began, spreading her legs wider. 

She ran her index fingers through the sable-colored down and then opened herself so Jake could look at a real woman. She felt sensual, sexual, and very brazen. She wanted this man to satisfy her thirst.

"It looks like a flower, Miss Rose. It's pink and it looks wet. That's cause you were swimming naked. Why were you swimming naked, Miss Rose?"

Rose only half-heard Jake speaking. She had dipped the middle finger of her right hand into her already wet hole and was now circling the sensitive little nub, sending waves of pleasure sweeping over Rose and causing her to tremble.

"Miss Rose? Miss Rose? What'cha doin'? I don't see nothing," Jake said with complete innocence.

"I'm playing with my button, Jake," she responded in a dreamy voice.

"I don't see no button. Like on a shirt?"

Rose opened herself up a little wider and ran her finger around her prized pearl, one more time. "See Jake? See the little button? When I touch it, it makes me feel really good."

"Hmmm. I don't got no button. I just got a peter. But when I touch it, it makes me feel real good, too," Jake said, sitting back on his knees, stroking his hard cock.

Rose lowered her eyes to watch him. This gorgeous man/child stroked to the same rhythm as she played with herself. She could feel her need grow even more. She moved her hand down and pushed her middle finger deep inside again.

"Hey! What did you do? What is that?" Jake asked, excitedly. "Where did you put your finger?"

Rose just smiled and thought about how she could explain it. She simply asked, "Do you remember that your papa told you that a peter sticks out so he can poke a woman and make babies? This hole is where the man puts his peter."

Jake leaned forward, shaking his head. "No....no, that's not it. That place is too small."

"No, it isn't; it stretches. Look, one finger fits, now two fingers fit." Slowly she slid her index finger in and moved both of them in and out.

"Wow! That is so cool! But why are you doing that? Your finger isn't a peter."

Rose moaned a little as her pleasure increased. "Because it feels so good to have something poked in there, Jake."

"It does? Even if your fingers don't make babies? I don't know about that, Miss Rose." Jake shook his head looking more confused.

Rose removed her fingers and stretched her arms over her head, trying to look seductive. "Jake, honey, sometimes a man pokes a woman just so they both feel good. If you put your peter in my hole, I'll bet it would feel real good."

She licked her lips when she saw pre-cum forming at the end of Jake's cock. She had no idea why she was feeling this way and even more surprised at her boldness. All she knew was that she wanted Jake. She wanted a man who wouldn't hurt her. She wanted a man to make her feel good. Her hands found their way back to her valley.

"Oh no, Miss Rose! I can't do that. My papa told me I should never do that. He said never to poke a girl 'cause I could get into trouble."

"Jake, I promise you it'll be our secret. No one will know and no one will get into trouble. Please Jake, won't you try to poke me? Don't you want me to feel good? Don't you want to feel good too?"




The Summer of Discontent



Jake looked doubtful. His papa told him not to poke any girls, but he also told him he should listen to the grown-ups. "I don't know, Miss Rose. Are you sure?"

"Yes Jake," Rose answered, as she stopped playing with herself and sat up. She didn't want to scare him away, but thought he needed some urging. She reached her hand out and joined him in stroking his penis. Jake's eyes got very wide and his mouth opened in surprise. Not even his mama touched his peter, but Miss Rose was so gentle and boy, did it feel good. Within seconds, Rose's hand was filled with white, sticky semen.

Jake was shocked and afraid. "I'm sorry, Miss Rose. I didn't mean to do that. I'm only supposed to do that in the bathroom. I'm s....s....sorry."

Rose wiped her hand across her belly and smiled, trying to show Jake that everything was all right. "Jake, don't be upset. That's what your peter is supposed to do. Now let's get your peter hard again. We'll just touch it, and stroke it, and get you feeling really good and then you can get me feeling good."

"Ohhhh, I don't know, Miss Rose."

"Please Jake," Rose asked in a hushed tone, feeling him already coming back to life. "Just once? Will you try to poke me just once? I need you to help me with this Jake. Please, will you be a good boy and help me?"

Jake smiled. He was always a good boy and he liked helping Miss Rose. "Okay, Miss Rose. I'll help you. But I don't know how," he said with a small frown on his handsome face.

"Come here, honey," Rose requested, laying back and opening her arms and legs.

It was a clumsy move, but Jake knelt between her legs and tried to lay down on her.

"Just a minute, Jake," she said as she reached between her legs and guided him to the entrance of her hole. "Now just lean in and push."

As soon as the head of Jake's penis met Rose's heat, it was if he had known what to do all along. He pushed, but did not rush. Rose's body had time to adjust to the well-endowed man. Slowly, but not stopping, Jake pushed until he was all the way in, his sack resting against her behind. Propped up on his arms, the innocent was shaken.

"Miss Rose? Miss Rose? It's hot and wet and tight. Um, I'm scared. I don't know if I like this," Jake said looking upset.

"Don't worry, Jake, you will -- I promise. Now we're going to start moving. You need to move in and out of me, but don't pull out completely. Do you understand? Here, let me help you a little."

With that, Rose put her hands on Jake's hips and began to push and pull his body. It took him a bit but eventually he started to move his hips the right way. One of the first times he popped right out, but Rose assured him he could just put his peter back inside. Slowly, in then out, Jake began to move on his own. Only then did a smile cross his face.

Rose wrapped her legs around Jake's waist and moved, meeting him thrust for thrust. Jake tried to talk but could only mutter an occasional "good". Rose needed this. She wanted this. She moved her hands to his young, tight ass and held on, digging her nails into his backside. His penis was touching places that had never been touched by male flesh. 

Sounds -- waves splashing, gulls screeching, flesh slapping, people panting and grunting. Rose's orgasm washed over her like waves, again and again. Jake held onto her shoulders, pushing in deeper and harder. The man who had never been with a woman knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to feel good once more. Rose felt his grip tighten and his legs start to tense. Moments later he was moaning and holding her as tight as he could while he pumped his seed into her, finding its mark deep in her womb. Push, push, push - grinding her into the sand, and then collapsing on top of her.

Rose waited until Jake's breathing slowed to almost normal and he raised his head off her shoulder. He looked dazed but with the most delightful smile on his face. Without speaking, she urged him to get off of her. Jake rolled on his back and began to giggle.

"I poked a girl! I poked a girl!" he sang and then turned to Rose. "Miss Rose that was fun. You were right, it felt good. Did I help you feel good, too?"

Rose leaned over and stroked Jake's cheek. "Oh yes, Jake. You helped me better than anyone. Now let's go in the water and wash off a little."

They played and Rose swam a bit while Jake stayed near shore. Maybe she could teach him to swim real good, he thought. Rose came back to where he was and the two walked out of the water, hand in hand, to where their bathing suits were lying on the beach. Jake and Rose promised not to tell anyone what happened and that it would forever be their secret.

There was a storm brewing but no one knew it. Not the villagers, not Jake and not Rose. There was a storm brewing all right, and it was going to hit hard, thought Charlie as he set his binoculars down and turned his attention to the men fishing in the back of his boat. 

Rose felt young again -- young and free. She also felt guilty for having cheated on Charlie and guilty for having used Jake. She sat on the edge of her bed wondering what she should do. She had done her best to explain to Jake that what happened was their secret. She hoped he was as good at keeping secrets as he promised. She owed it to Charlie to be a better wife. Maybe if she were more willing to participate in the games he wanted to play he would be nicer. She knew she had to stop feeling negatively about her marriage. After all, marriage was supposed to be for better and for worse.

The storm was fast approaching. You could see the darkness. It was the quiet before the storm. Others may have noticed. There was just something different in the air.

Rose heard the door slam when Charlie came home from work. She was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She had brushed her hair until it was soft and shiny, and wore Charlie's favorite purple sundress. He told her that even if she didn't have Liz's violet eyes, he could pretend. Turning away from the tossed salad she made, Rose jumped when she saw Charlie standing in the doorway watching her. She went over to kiss his cheek. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of fish. 

"Charlie! You scared me," she said putting a pretty pout on her face. "I have chicken marinating but if you brought home fish, it will keep."

"There's no fish," Charlie responded, abruptly.

Rose could see he was not in the greatest of moods, but did her best to be cheery. "Well, I have potato salad left from last night, this tossed salad and applesauce. I'll let you deal with the fire and the grill. Now go take a shower, okay?" 

Rose turned away but was stopped by Charlie grabbing hold of her hair and wordlessly pulling her down the hall to the bedroom.

"Charlie, stop!" she pleaded, tripping while being led backwards. "Please, you're hurting me!"

No one had a clue how much havoc the storm would cause. It would destroy everything in its path.

Charlie whipped her around and threw her on the bed. He pulled his fishing knife out of its sheath, took hold of the neckline of Rose's dress and began to slit it down the front. She could do nothing but lie there and whimper. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. She was experienced in what would happen if anyone overheard her.

Charlie cut her dress from neck to hem. He did the same thing to Rose's lace slip. He glanced at her white-knuckled grip on the chenille bedspread and then reached up and slit her bra. Her clothes now lay open on either side of her body. He dropped the knife and reached for the waistband of her panties and ripped them down over her hips and off her legs. Then Charlie cupped his hand around the back of Rose's neck and pulled her to stand in front of him. While what was left of her clothing fell away, he bruised her mouth as he forcibly kissed her and left her lips bleeding. Charlie spun Rose around and pushed her face-down on the bed.

Rose cried silently when she heard Charlie's belt buckle open and then his pants drop to the floor. He grabbed her hips and without any warning, pushed his way into her pussy. God, how she prayed he didn't notice anything different. 

The storm was building. Nothing would be safe. It would take and take, until it moved on out of sight.

Charlie's cock slid in and out of Rose easily. If that's the case, he thought, she's wet enough for anything. Rose knew to stay on her knees until Charlie walked away. She felt him let go of her hips, pull out without cumming and then start pressing against her anus. He had never done that so she didn't know what to expect. What she did know is that she didn't want to do that.

"Charlie, no," she started until he slapped her ass as hard as he could. 

There was no warning; he simply forced his way into her ass using only the bit of moisture on his cock. Rose screamed in pain, burying her face in the bed. Charlie didn't care. He slapped her ass again, grabbed her hips and began pounding as hard as he could. Now he understood why men said they like it. It was tighter than the first night they were together. In and out, moving like a machine now, causing her to stretch and bleed. He didn't care. Within minutes he shot his wad into her. Charlie pulled out, wiped the residue on her backside and then pushed her to lie flat on the bed. Rose was left gaping and dripping.

Rose couldn't remember when she felt that much pain. Charlie had never been that cruel. She was exhausted and lay there crying. She wished he would leave the house and go to the bar near the pier. Be careful what you wish for; it might come true.

Rose must have dropped off to sleep because she was awakened by Charlie rolling her onto her back and pulling her body up toward the headboard. He had taken a pair of her nylons and was securing her arms to the iron posts. She felt his cum oozing out of her ass, smearing the bedspread as he adjusted her body.

Rose was hoping the abuse was over. While Charlie blindfolded her, she tried to prepare for whatever it was he chose to do to her. Nothing could have prepared her for the sound of steel against steel. Rose didn't have to worry anymore.

A few hours later, Charlie walked into the Duck-In Bar and Grill at the pier. Zed was sitting with a couple of guys from their poker group.

"Hey Charlie, what were you burning tonight? It smelled like the whole neighborhood was invited to dinner," Zed asked playfully. 

Charlie smirked and answered, "Well I did cook ribs and chicken on the grill. You should have stopped by. Found out the freezer quit on us so I had to throw out all of the food. Thought the best way would be to throw it in the burn barrel."

The guys agreed with him. It was going to cost a pretty penny to replace all of it.

"Hey Zed," Charlie looked at Jake's dad. "I've got a wild group coming in this weekend. I thought I'd throw out some chum and draw in some tuna and shark. What do you think?"

"Well, how much and when?" Zed asked.

"I thought I'd test it out tomorrow morning and see if it works. I want to head out around five o'clock. I've got some parts in my cooler under ice. Hey, do you think Jake might like to go out there with me? He's a good boy, and I'll bet he'd love to see some real big fish."

Zed was puzzled at first. Charlie had never offered to do anything nice for Jake. He had to admit though; Jake would love to see the big fish up close. "I'll bring him down to the pier. Thanks, Charlie. That's right neighborly of you."

True to his word, Zed brought Jake down to Charlie's boat before the sun was even close to rising. Jake had on his orange life jacket and was skipping down the dock. Charlie had already lifted the heavy cooler into the boat, along with some buckets of blood and fish.

Jake waved excitedly and called out, "Hi, Mr. Charlie! Is Miss Rose going to come with us?" 

"She might join us Jake. Here, take my hand and be careful you don't slip. I don't need you falling overboard," Charlie said.

"How long are you going to be out?" asked Zed.

"I wouldn't imagine too long," Charlie answered. "Maybe we'll be back in time for a big breakfast. It depends if this idea works and we get the fish to come up to the boat."

"I want to see the big fish, Papa. I want to help feed them," Jake exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"You do just what Mr. Charlie tells you, all right Jake? You be a good boy."

"Zed, he'll be fine. We'll see you in a few hours."

The sun was just starting to break the horizon when Charlie figured they were out far enough. He wanted to set the chum before it got too light and other boats started appearing. He cut the engine and moved to the back of the boat where Jake sat.

"Now you see Jake, this blood, fish and meat will attract some very big fish. You have to be very careful when you put it in the water. We also want to be very quiet. No scaring them away, right?"

Jake pretended to take out a key and lock his mouth shut. Then he whispered, "Just like a mouse, Mr. Charlie."

"If this works, it'll be our secret, okay Jake? Can you keep a secret?"

"I sure can, Mr. Charlie. Just ask Miss Rose."

Storms have a way of fooling people, making them think they're over when they're not.

Charlie opened the cooler and threw some large pieces of meat into the water, then emptied a bucket of fish and blood in also. He and Jake sat in the quiet, waiting to see what would happen. It didn't take long to see the first fin slice its way through the surface of the water. A few small sharks were the first to arrive. The larger ones soon followed.

"Wow, Mr. Charlie! Look at the fish coming to eat. I never saw so many live fish this close. My papa never did this before," said Jake, watching Charlie throw some meat to the sharks. "Do you think I can do that? I can throw real good, I promise."

"Sure Jake, just put your hand in there and grab some meat. I think you're big enough to feed the fish."

Sure enough, Jake threw the meat well out into the ocean. Charlie watched him with an amused look on his face. Jake suddenly stopped and started giggling. He held the piece out for Charlie to see.

"Look Mr. Charlie, this looks like a pretty titty."

"So it does, Jake. Let's see if we can get the fish to come right up to the boat. Hold the meat real close to the water."

When the storm was over, its destruction spread over miles. Charlie's boat was found washed ashore about ten miles up the coast about a week later. The engine still worked and the damage to the boat appeared to be from it being brought in by the tides. There was no sign of Charlie or Jake. The coolers and buckets were empty but the blood was smeared everywhere. 

About a month after that morning, what was left of Jake's life jacket was found on the secluded beach, where he used to look for shells.



The Summer of His Life



Authors note: This story was written in juicy collaboration with a friend. I hope all of you enjoy it as much as we did! Happy reading. GEV





Jeremy Pearson never expected he would have the most memorable summer of his life during the few short months his daughter, Hannah, came home for summer break after her first year of college.

He had just celebrated his forty-fourth birthday, alone, and was not-so-happily married to his wife, Claire, of twenty-four years. There had always been something lacking between them, mainly in the bedroom, and it was partially his fault. His position as bank president kept his wife living in the lap of luxury, wearing designer clothes and driving a new Mercedes and now that his daughter was away at college, he had to work even more hours so she wouldn't have to find a job and she could devote all of her time to studying.

He put in so many extra hours at the office that he didn't have the energy to fulfill his wife's needs sexually and he had the sinking feeling that she was going outside of their marriage for sex but he never mentioned anything to her about his suspicions, after all, she always had his dinner on the table when he got home from work. But his suspicions had been confirmed by her behavior over the past year and a half. She was spending more and more time at the country club, or so she said, and at night she would give him a kiss on the cheek, pop a sleeping pill into her mouth, roll over to the far side of the bed and go to sleep.

Even though he sat behind a desk, he was far from out of shape. His doctor told him he needed to get more exercise so he started running again and taking advantage of the pool in the back yard, the whole reason why his wife wanted the two story house in the upscale neighborhood, yet he never saw her go swimming. Between running two miles on the weekends and swimming a hundred and fifty laps twice a week, he kept his six foot frame in shape and for what reason, he had no clue.

His wife wasn't fucking him and he was too tired to even think about having an extra-marital relationship. That thought pretty much came to a screeching halt when Hannah came home from college two weeks ago. It wasn't so much his own daughter that he was having lecherous thoughts about as it was her best friend, Emily, that would come over on a daily basis and hang out with her beside the pool when they were not out shopping or at parties. And this weekend wasn't any different. Or maybe it was.

Jeremy planted his palms on the tiled edge of the pool and hoisted his weight out of the water, feeling the material of his swim shorts instantly adhere to his body as the water sloshed off of him and he padded over to the outdoor dining table where he had tossed his towel over the back of a chair. He briskly dried his full head of thick brown hair with the towel as the hot summer air did very little to dry the water on his skin, and wiped the chlorinated water from his face and shoulders.

He draped the towel around his neck and reached for the pitcher of iced tea that was sitting on the table, sweating in the heat much like him, and poured some into a glass, taking a long refreshing drink. With the needle on the thermometer pushing towards the one hundred degree mark, the tea was more revitalizing than the dip in the pool. With Claire out doing God knows what with her fuck toy and Hannah abusing his credit card at the new boutique at the mall, he thought he had the whole house to himself to relax until he heard a low whistle and a soft, feminine voice behind him that caused him to choke on his tea and spit it back into his glass.

"Looking good, Mr. Pearson, real good."

He sat his glass down on the table and turned around, looking over at Hannah and her friend as they came out of the house clad in their new bikinis and sunglasses, towels in their hands. Hannah's black bikini was more of a halter top that covered her small breasts and boy shorts that hugged her hips and provided a reasonable amount of coverage whereas Emily's bubblegum pink string bikini strained to contain her large breasts and thong bottom left very little to the imagination. Hannah was giggling at her friend's comment and Emily was eyeing him like a rack of beef hanging in the butcher shop. He wasn't self-conscious of his body, his stomach was flat but he was far from having six pack abs and then he suddenly realized what her gaze was focused on and he quickly grabbed the towel from around his neck and wrapped it around his waist.

The drenched material of his shorts was clinging to his groin and clearly outlining the length and girth of his eight inch cock that was starting to throb at the sight of the skimpy clad teenager. He didn't dare stay outside any longer or the girls would be getting more than just an eyeful. He tried to clear his throat as quietly as he could and picked up his glass of tea. "You two ladies have fun and don't stay in the sun too long," he said as he padded across the cement patio and into the privacy of the air-conditioned house. 

"If my dad had a body like that, I would so be fucking him every chance I got," Emily stated as she chewed on her bottom lip, watching with lust-filled eyes as her friend's father disappeared into the house, pulling the sliding glass door shut behind him. She smiled, knowing he had heard everything she had said. Her father had a paunch from drinking too many beers and his hair had gotten scared and ran away several years ago. But not Hannah's dad. At forty-four years of age he still had everything going for him and then some.

"Eww, gross," Hannah said, cringing as she padded barefoot across the patio to where the two cushioned chaises sat beside the shallow end of the pool, sitting down on one. She looked back over towards the house as her dad slid the door shut behind him. She was pretty sure her friend's comment had been a boost to his ego and she turned on the chair, stretching her long legs out along the cushion and settling back against the slanted back. She looked over at her best friend since grade school as she settled down on the chaise beside hers. "That's my father you're ogling."

Jeremy slid the glass door shut behind him, hearing every word of the exchange between the two girls and he smiled as he padded barefooted into the kitchen to get more ice for his tea, dropping several cubes into the glass. He took a long drink as he sauntered over to the sink and sat his half-empty glass down on the counter as he stood there inside the privacy of the house and did some of his own ogling. He had a perfect view of the girls from the paned kitchen window as they lounged by the pool, the backs down on the chairs soaking up the summer rays and too busy talking and laughing to even notice him.

Hannah had turned nineteen last month but Emily was still eighteen, her birthday was three months after his daughter's, and the two of them had been best friend since third or fourth grade, he couldn't quite remember which, all he could remember was that he had watched the two girls grow up together over all the weekends he was home and the summers they spent together hanging out around his pool. Blame it on not getting laid any time during the past twenty months, but as he stood there, he found himself admiring the beautiful young women a little longer than he should be and definitely not in a fatherly way. 

He picked up his glass of tea, taking a long drink as he watched them, his eyes falling first on Emily, taking in every inch of her perfectly toned body clad in the skimpiest string bikini he had ever seen. God have mercy. She had a body that would not quit, shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes that she had momentarily hid behind designer sunglasses. Her huge, firm breasts–they had to be fake, they were not that big the last time he had seen her–were on the verge of spilling out of the very narrow pink triangle cups of her top, her tummy was flat and her hips flared out from a wasp-narrow waist, and as his eyes lingered there on her midsection he could see that the tiny pink triangle was barely big enough to cover her smooth mound and when she rolled over on the chaise, he got a clear view of her bare ass, which just happened to be the finest ass he had ever seen on a woman before in his life.

He let out a quick short breath. Fuck, this was going to be a long, grueling summer.

His gaze shifted to his daughter, his ray of sunshine, his perfect little angel. It seemed just like yesterday he was bouncing her on his knee and kissing her forehead as he tucked her into bed at night, but as he looked at her now, he saw her as a woman. He knew he should just turn on his heel and walk away from the window but he couldn't muster up the strength to move. He just stood there, incestuously eying his own daughter. She wasn't as thin or as busty as her friend, she had soft curves.

Her long strawberry blonde hair was piled atop her head in a sloppy knot and her pale blue eyes that were the same color as his were hiding behind her sunglasses. Her small, firm breasts were completely concealed by her halter top, the little extra weight she carried was around her belly and hips gave her body a nice flattering curve that just screamed "woman" and her bikini bottom was a sexy pair of boy shorts–shorts so short that he would never let her leave the house in them, but this was a bathing suit–and they hugged the curve of her hips and when she shifted around to lay on her side, he could see the bottom of her ass cheeks peeking out from the hem.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of its lewd thoughts, but dammit, they were two sexy teenagers and he couldn't help but stare.

Jeremey absentmindedly tugged the towel from his waist, flinging it to the counter and yanked on the ties of his wet swim shorts, pushing them far enough down his hips so his hard, throbbing cock was free. It bobbed in the air as a clear bead of precum seeped out of the slit and he wrapped his hand around his rigid cock, giving it a firm stroke. Wrong thing to do, he could feel the buildup of hot cum churning in his heavy testicles. He didn't know which girl had done it to him, didn't want to think about it, but one of them, if not both had him harder than he had ever been in years.

He stared at their perfect bodies through the paned window as he stroked his cock, feeling it harden even more, grow even thicker in his fist till the swollen purple head was throbbing and glistening with a fine sheen of clear fluid that trickled down his veiny shaft. His heart was pounding in his chest, half in the need for immediate gratification and half in fear of getting caught. He braced his hand on the edge of the sink, stroking his cock faster, harder and harder until his eyes practically rolled back into his head and a low, animalistic growl tore from his chest as his thick, hot semen spurted hard and fast from his cock, hitting the well-placed towel.

Fuck. This was going to be the worse summer of his life.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jeremy's suspicions were pretty much confirmed as to which young woman gave him the throbbing erection the next morning.

He wasn't expecting anyone else to be up at such and early hour, he liked to run with the morning sunrise when the rest of the neighborhood was sleeping, the brisk morning air revitalizing him as he bounded up the concrete and asphalt hills. He checked to make sure he had his phone and spare house key tucked safely into the cargo pocket on the leg of his shorts before he quietly left the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Claire was still knocked out, hugging her pillow to her chest as she precariously balanced herself on the edge of the bed–she kept as much distance as she could between them even in slumber–and Hannah was still in bed so he walked quietly past her closed door.

Or so he thought.

Jeremy hurried down the stairs and as he rounded the corner to head for the front door, he ran right smack into Hannah, who had her eyes glued to the screen of her iPhone, her thumbs flying over the face as she typed out a message. He quickly reached out and grabbed hold of her upper arms to steady her as she lost her balance, teetering backwards on her bare feet. The phone in her hands clattered to the floor and she let out a harsh explicit. As he looked down at her disheveled state as the first rays of the early morning sun started to filter into the house through the paned windows, he had to wonder just when she stopped wearing footed pajamas to bed.

Her hair was a reddish gold disheveled mess from sleep and her fitted white T-shirt hugged the planes and curves of her body and her small, unconfined breasts. He could clearly see her hard nipples pressing against the soft cotton and the outline of her areolas so well that the shirt might as well just be transparent. He felt his cock twitch in his shorts as his gaze slowly descended her body, skimming over her belly that was exposed beneath the hem of her shirt to her pink stripped cotton bikini panties that covered her vulva, the material slipping up between the lips of her sex, outlining the shape of her labia. He let out a quick, short breath. "It's dangerous to text and walk. You okay, sweetie? And what are you doing up at five-thirty?"

"I'm fine," Hannah said as she smiled up at her father, pushing her wild hair out of her face. She had never known her father to get up before eight on a Sunday morning and as she curiously eyed the T-shirt, cargo shorts and running shoes she suspected he was just about ready to head out of the house for a morning run. He use to exercise every morning but that was when she was younger and way before he had taken the higher position at the bank and now that he had to sit behind a desk every day, he had to do everything he could to fight the middle-age spread. And from what she had seen of him yesterday when he didn't have his shirt on, running and swimming was what kept him in shape, not that she could ever remember him being pudgy. "Guess my body is still on east coast time," she said, bending down to retrieve her phone. She straightened and waved it at him. "All good. And all of my friends are just getting up."

He sucked in his breath when she bent over in front of him to pick up her phone. Aw, fuck! The cotton molded its self to the cheeks of her lovely, perfectly shaped ass, the crotch pulling up tight between her legs, giving him a clear view of her– His body was completely oblivious to the fact that she was his daughter and he swore under his breath when he felt his cock start to throb in his shorts from the very appealing sight before him. It wasn't Emily that had given him the raging hard-on yesterday; it was his own goddamn daughter!

He dropped his hands to his hips, quickly averting his eyes, but what was the use, he had already seen her ass and what a fine, spankable ass it was. When she straightened and waved the phone at him, he looked back down at her, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half-smile. Thank God his shorts were loose enough that they hid the start of his early morning erection. He needed to get out of the house, right now, before he did something he was going to regret. "I'm wasting daylight. Gotta run," he said before dropping a fatherly kiss on her forehead.

"Okay. Bye, Dad," Hannah said, standing on tip-toe to kiss his whisker-stubble cheek. She waved at him as he pulled the front door closed behind him and she smiled, going back to her phone as she padded across the parquet floor to the dining room table where she could watch the sun rise over the mountains as she exchanged messages with her friends from college.

Jeremy pulled the heavy front door closed behind him as he let out a long, exasperated breath and started doing his warm-up stretches. Never in a million years would he ever imagine that he could be sexually attracted to his own daughter. It was wrong on so many levels but he had never had that strong of a physical attraction to another woman since he was a hormonal teenager and just wanted to fuck the first girl that would welcome him between her thighs. He wanted to pull Hannah against him, feel those small breasts pressed to his chest and run his hand over her soft curves as he kissed her like no father should kiss his own daughter, long and hard and deep.

He started jogging down the street, increasing his pace with each block until he was running hard, running the idea of Hannah out of his system, and trying to run far, far away from his incestuous thoughts and feelings that were starting to take over his mind and body. He wanted to ease that T-shirt up her body, expose her small, firm breasts to his gaze, caress them with his fingers and suck on her nipples until they were hard little nubbins of flesh against his tongue. He wanted to ease those panties down, inch by inch, revealing her body to his greedy gaze, taste her with his tongue.

He stopped at his half way point on the top of the hill and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing his hands on his knees as he drew in several deep breaths, the cool morning air burning his lungs, but it was nothing compared to the burning need he had in his loins to fuck his own daughter.

He couldn't do that, would never do that, so then why was he having such wicked thoughts about his own flesh and blood? He had no fuckin' idea how he was going to make it through the summer months with his own daughter living under the same roof, her bedroom two doors down the hall, tormenting him each and every night. Why did she have to come home for the summer? Why couldn't she just stay in Massachusetts?

He let out a long breath. He knew his daughter wasn't a virgin, she'd had a boyfriend her senior year in high school at she had been away at college and out from under her mother's criticizing eye and stern thumb to be wild and party. But still he had to wonder just how much experience she actually had, if she knew what it was like to fuck a man and not a boy. He felt that stirring once again in his loins. "Fuck," he swore and started running down the hill, running hard in the morning sun, the sweat-soaked material of his T-shirt adhering to his back and chest, running an extra mile and then running straight back to the one temptation that was going to be the death of him.

Hannah.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you going to spend all of your summer with your nose glued to your phone?"

"Huh?" Hannah said, looking up from the screen of her phone, her spoon clattering back into her bowl of cereal as her mother came into the kitchen dressed in her tennis whites. At forty years of age her mother was still a beautiful woman. Her shoulder length red hair was pulled back into a pony tail, her tank top was molded to her surgically enhanced breasts and her white skort showed off the length of her slender thighs as she walked. She was the same height as her mother but her mother was so concerned about her weight that she exercised more than she ate so she could stay thin. She caught a whiff of sunscreen as her mother walked past her, her skin was even fairer than hers, and she couldn't help but notice that her makeup was flawlessly applied. Who wore cosmetics when they worked out? She was just going to sweat it all off so what was the point. Unless...

"And you know the rules in this house," Claire said, tsking her tongue as she eyed her daughter's lack of clothing at the dining room table. When she was in her own apartment she could do as she pleased but when she was at home a T-shirt and panties were completely uncalled for at the table where everyone ate. She walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and grabbed a straw from the drawer, dropping it into the bottle. The last thing she wanted to do was smudge her lipstick. She took a sip, watching her daughter from across the expanse of the kitchen with scornful green eyes.




The Summer of His Life



Even though she was against it, her father was paying for her off-campus apartment even during the summer months, so she saw no reason why she had to come home in the first place. She had been so out of touch with her own daughter over the past couple of years that she still didn't know how to talk to her without fighting and she was more than happy when she got accepted to an out of state college, it meant she wouldn't be hanging out around the house so much. But now that summer was here, she had to deal with her daughter and her friends coming over to mess up the house and take advantage of the pool.

"I was done eating anyway," Hannah retorted as she picked up her bowl and padded into the kitchen to put it in the dishwasher. She retrieved her phone from the table and glared at her mother as she walked out of the kitchen, she had forgotten how much of a bitch she could really be. She leaned her shoulder against the wall, pretending to be looking at her phone, instead watching from the security of the staircase as her mother left the house with her purse and keys in her hand but not her bag that held her racket or a change of clothes for that matter. She huffed. She doubted that her mother even played tennis. Let her go hang out with her snotty friends, at least she wouldn't be bothering her for the rest of the day. She was probably having an affair with some young stud at the country club.

She turned on her heel and marched up the stairs, practically slamming her bedroom door shut behind her and throwing herself down on her bed. She had been so ecstatic when she got accepted to an out of state college, more so because of her mother. She'd never had a good relationship with her, she had always been daddy's little girl, getting whatever she wanted from him with a bat of her eyelashes and her mother hated her for it.

She could never really even remember her mother showing any affection towards her when she had been growing up, her father was always the one that tucked her into bed and kissed her goodnight. She had always felt that her mother resented her presence in the house, she took all of her father's attention away from her, and now that she was home again, she felt it even more. And now they were once again right back where they had started all those years ago, hating each other.

She should have just stayed on the other side of the country because this was going to end up being the worst summer of her life.

When she was certain her mother had left, Hannah slid off of her bed and pushed her wild hair out of her eyes as she slowly walked down the hall to the bathroom. She reached out and wrapped her hand around the doorknob, pushing the door open and coming face to towel covered face with her buck ass naked father–she didn't even know he was back from his morning run–who just happened to be standing in the middle of her bathroom drying his hair. She knew she should leave, pull the door shut behind her and run back to her room but she couldn't help but stand there and stare at her own father.

She'd seen a naked man before, she lost her virginity to her high school boyfriend when she was seventeen, and she'd been having an on-again-off-again relationship with a guy in her English Lit class but neither of those boys had a physique like her father. He didn't have the defined muscles that all the gym rats strived to have, his toned muscles were developed from running and swimming, and as her gaze drifted down his chest and flat abdomen to his groin, she sucked in her breath.

She never expected him, her father of all people...had never seen one quite...she just stood there, awe struck. His long, thick cock was dangling between his strong legs, his smooth testicles heavy and both slightly swaying as he vigorously dried his hair with the towel. She knew she should at least advert her eyes but she felt a sudden ache in the pit of her stomach and a tiny cry escaped her when her father moved the towel down to start drying his chest.

Jeremy heard a soft, feminine cry and he casually lowered the towel to his chest, drying the beads of water from his skin as he looked at his daughter standing there in the doorway, her hand wrapped around the doorknob and her gaze fixated on his groin. He half expected her to run, he was standing in front of her completely naked, but she wasn't budging an inch so he made no move to cover himself up, after all she had walked in on him. She had yet to get dressed, she was still wearing that tight little T-shirt and panties and he watched insolently as her nipples started to harden. "My shower is broken. Is there something you need?"

Hannah couldn't take her eyes off of her father's cock. Neither one of her boyfriend's had a cock that was that thick or that long. Her father had to be at least seven or eight inches in length and thick, God he was thick, so thick that... She felt her breasts swell and her nipples harden, pressing against the soft cotton of her T-shirt and a sudden wetness emanate between her thighs. Her heart slammed hard into her ribcage and she nervously licked her lips. This was her father standing before her, for Christ's sake. She shouldn't be staring at him, staring at his naked, perfect body glistening with beads of water and smelling all fresh and clean from his shower. "I... I just– I... I was–" Hannah stammered, unable to find the right words and forgetting why she had even come into the room in the first place.

Jeremy couldn't help but notice his own daughter staring at him and he tossed the towel aside as his eyes followed hers down to his groin. He had no power over his own body's natural instincts and he knew he should wrap the towel around his waist and obstruct her view but he rather loved that his cock was being noticed by another woman even if it was his daughter. He was unable to control his own cock as it started to harden before her very eyes, twitching slightly.

There was no way he could now deny the fact that she was the one that had gotten his cock hard, his wife had failed to for the past year, and as his gaze traveled over her body, there was no denying that he had the same effect on her. Her small breasts were swollen, her nipples hard and straining against the soft cotton stretched over them and as his hot gaze drifted lower he could clearly see her own arousal soaking into the front of her cotton panties, the striped material adhering to her swollen labia. With the way she was staring at his cock, he had to wonder when the last time was she had gotten fucked. "Or maybe you had something else in mind," Jeremy said, intentionally reaching down and wrapping his hand around his thick cock, stroking it before her eyes, watching the expression on her beautiful face as his cock started to throb and harden even more, grow even thicker.

"Daddy," Hannah croaked, her voice catching in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a jackhammer and she was unable to move, let alone breathe, all she could do was watch him stroke his glorious cock. Her boyfriends had been just that, boys, but her father was a man, a man that she shouldn't be having wicked thoughts about. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly let it slid back out, her eyes glued to his rapidly thickening cock that she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have in her mouth, in her aching pussy. But he was her father. "We can't..."

The last time she had called him Daddy was when she had given him a hug and a kiss on the cheek at the airport before she flew off to the east coast to spread her wings and start college. His parental instincts caught onto the sheer panic in her voice and he released his hold on his half-erect cock and grabbed the towel on the counter, wrapping it around his hips and tucking the end of the towel in tight. His cock was throbbing but Hannah was his daughter and as much as he wanted to fuck her, she had to be a willing participant and a scared little girl was the last thing he wanted her to be.

"Figures. Your mother sure as hell isn't fuckin' me anymore. Why would you be any different?" He stepped closer to her and reached out to take hold of her chin and tip her head up, looking down into her pale blue eyes. "Some of the most fun comes from doing things you shouldn't be doing and you sure as hell shouldn't be making my cock hard. Just remember, Hannah, I'm a man first, your father second, so quit parading around the damn house in your fuckin' underwear or you're going to get my cock shoved so far up that pussy that–" He saw her eyes widen and he swore under his breath. He shouldn't be so damn hard on her but she had to realize that her body aroused him more than it should and he wouldn't be held responsible for his own actions. "Just keep yourself covered the best you can when I'm home."

Hannah felt her heart skip a beat at her father's blatant confession that he wanted to fuck her and she sank back against the door as her father brushed past her. She had no intention of arousing her father but like he had said, he was a man first and what a mighty fine man he was. And his cock! She'd never seen a cock that big before other than in the porn videos she would watch late at night on her laptop. She pressed her shoulders back against the door and slowly slid her hand down her abdomen, her fingers slipping under the waistband of her panties, and watched as he strode down the hall to the master bedroom, her eyes glued to the sculpted muscles of his back.

She sucked in her breath when her fingers came in contact with the swollen, wet lips of her pussy, her dripping, aching pussy that hadn't had the pleasure of a cock filling it in over two months. She jerked her hand out of her panties when her father turned around, looking her direction right before he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him.

Maybe this was going to be a fun summer after all.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jeremy pulled his T-shirt down over his head as he padded barefooted out of his bedroom. He knew he shouldn't have been so harsh on Hannah, but she had no idea as to how much of a strain she was putting on him, physically and mentally with her supple young body. He was her father and as taboo and exciting as an incestuous relationship sounded, it was definitely out of the question. Maybe he should just have that affair already, get all of that pent up need out of his system, his marriage was already strained with his wife fucking her way around the country club that he was paying way too much for in yearly dues and fees. There were a lot of young beautiful women that came into the bank on a daily basis, he had even seen some of them checking him out when he was on the main floor, and he could have his choice of any one of them if he just made the first move but when they caught sight of his wedding ring they just smiled and looked the other direction. All he would have to do was put the ring in his pocket...

He let out a long breath as he ran his fingers through his damp hair, walking down the hall. Hannah's door was shut and he thought about knocking on it and apologizing to her but he didn't know what he would be apologizing for, admitting that he wanted to fuck her or letting it slip that her mother was cheating on him. He stood outside her door, raised his hand to knock, thought twice about it and dropped his hand. He would just be wasting his breath. He started to walk away when he heard a muffled sob and a cry coming from her room. He must have upset her more than he thought he had and he pushed her door open, bursting across the threshold and coming to an instant stop. Hannah wasn't crying in sadness, she was crying out in pure pleasure. And he couldn't do anything but stare at his own daughter like a deer caught in the headlights.

Hannah was stark naked, her strawberry blonde hair spread out on her pillow, her eyes closed as she took pleasure in her own body. Her small, firm breasts were proudly on display, coral pink nipples the size of pencil erasers hard and jutting out from her puckered areolas. She had her knees pulled up high and spread wide, little tufts of reddish-blonde hair at the top of her mound, the swollen lips of her labia glistening with her juices. He knew he should quietly turn around and leave her room but he couldn't, his daughter's moans, seeing her fingers touching herself the very way he's been dying to touch her–

He felt his cock go from partially erect to rock hard with a sudden rush of blood, straining against the front of his shorts and he unconsciously reached down to stroke himself through the confining material, his cock throbbing, as he stood there and watched his daughter pleasuring herself, watching as his once little girl's hand fervently played with her dripping pussy, her moans growing louder, her hips arching, fingers glistening wet...

Jeremy jerked his hand away from his throbbing cock and uncomfortably cleared his throat.

Hannah's eyes shot open at the unexpected sound to see her father standing just over the threshold of her bedroom. "Dad," she squeaked as she frantically reached for the pillow at the head of the bed. She hugged it to her torso lengthwise with trembling arms and legs, trying to shield her naked body from her father's intense gaze, but it was too late, he had already seen too much. Her gaze locked with her father's as she pushed her hair out of her face with a trembling hand and she felt her face redden even more. She didn't know what was more embarrassing, getting caught touching herself by her father or getting caught by the man she was thinking about while frantically rubbing her swollen clitoris.

He was still staring at her, his pale blue gaze burning pure lust and she felt her heart slam into her ribcage when she caught sight of the considerable bulge his cock had formed in the front of his cargo shorts. She remembered all too well what he had said to her in the bathroom several minutes ago and fucking her own father was so wrong, which was why she had disappeared into her room and shut the door, so she could finger herself to ease the ache she shouldn't be having for him, for his cock. She tucked her chin against the edge of the pillow and turned her gaze away from her father. "Please leave," she whispered.

"I thought I had upset you and then when I heard you crying–" Jeremy said in his own defense, dropping his hands on his hips and making no move to cover his raging hard-on or leave her bedroom. "But you seem to be quite the opposite! There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself. I do it more often than I care to admit, which is more than I can say for your mother and I. We haven't had..." His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted down the length of his daughter's thighs wrapped around the pillow she was using to shield her naked body from his gaze. Her legs were so smooth, so supple and would feel so good wrapped around his hips.

Hannah squeezed the pillow tighter with her arms and legs, staring at her father across the expanse of her bedroom. She had been grossed out by her friend's comment yesterday about her father's body, but when she had stood there staring at him standing naked in her bathroom it had stirred up feelings inside her she didn't know existed, forbidden intense feelings that had her looking twice at her father and seeing him as a man, a hot older man that oozed sex out of every pore. And now that he was standing in her bedroom and she was the naked one, the unquenched ache between her legs was screaming at her to go against her better judgment and just go after what it was she wanted, fuck the consequences.

There was no denying that he wanted her, he had said so himself, she was the one that had the initial qualms about it. She knew her father would never force her into a situation she wasn't comfortable with or allow her to do something she wasn't a willing participant in, and seeing that they were both aroused by each other... She drew in a deep breath, swallowed the lump in her throat and tossed the pillow aside, once again baring her naked body to her father's gaze. She slowly slid off the bed, their matching blue gazes locked on each other as she slowly padded across the floor in her bare feet. "Daddy..."

"Yes, baby," Jeremy croaked, unable to tear his gaze off of his daughter's perfect body as she slowly walked towards him, a lock of strawberry blonde hair curling around one small pert breast, her nipples hard and jutting out from the swollen peaks. He knew he shouldn't be looking at his daughter like a sexual creature, knew he shouldn't be standing in her bedroom to begin with when he had such impure, wicked thoughts running rampant through his mind. His gaze drifted down the curves and planes of her soft body to the blood-swollen lips of her labia, glistening with her juices and he felt his cock throb in anticipation of being buried deep inside her hot, young body.

And he was the last man that shouldn't be getting hard at the sight of her, but yet... He felt his Adam's apple bob in this throat when he swallowed. When she stepped closer to him, he totally expected her to shove him out of her bedroom and slam the door shut in his face but what he certainly didn't expect was the next six words that flowed so comfortably out of her mouth.

"I want to suck your cock," Hannah professed as she reached out and cupped her hand around the solid girth of her father's cock through the material of his shorts. She looked up at him as she gave his shaft a firm squeeze, caressing him through his shorts, watching as his eyes started to darken with forbidden desire. He was so hot, so hard.

Thank you, God, Jeremy swore under his breath as he struggled with the button and zipper on his shorts like a horny teenager that couldn't get out of his pants fast enough. His cock was rock hard and throbbing and his hands that never trembled before in his life were having a little bit of difficulty getting his zipper down. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a blowjob and he groaned at the feel of her soft hands brushing his aside to manipulate the zipper. He yanked his T-shirt over his head in one quick motion and dropped it to the floor just as his shorts hit his ankles. He drew in a shaky breath when he felt her fingers curl into the waistband of his boxer briefs and he looked down at his daughter as she eased his underwear down over his hips, over the throbbing head of his cock as it popped free of its confines, down the length of his hair-dusted muscled thighs as she slowly sank to her knees in front of him. He hissed when he felt the first touch of her tongue against his cock. "Hannah–"

Hannah dropped to her knees in front of her father, getting an up close and personal view of his very intimidating cock. He was fully erect and thick, so thick she didn't think she was going to be able to take him into her mouth, let alone her pussy and she swallowed the lump of nervousness that welled up in her throat and slowly drew the tip of her tongue up the length of her father's veiny cock.

She heard her father groan in pleasure as she slid her tongue higher and higher, so expertly, so perfectly, feeling his cock throb and pulse against the forbidden touch of her soft, wet tongue. Almost instantly, a drop of precum started to leak from the glans and she slowly swirled her tongue all around the smooth skin, licking up the trickle of clear fluid as she sucked lightly on the tip. She reached up and wrapped her hand around the base of his pulsing cock, her fingers nowhere near touching, holding him in place as she struggled at first to take him into her mouth. 

"Look at me," Jeremy ordered and she obeyed, her pale blue eyes filled with lust gazing up at him. He looked down at her, watching as his daughter practically inhaled his cock, slowly taking him deeper and deeper as she adjusted to his girth until he was touching the back of her throat. And then she started to bob her head and he watched as his thick, saliva-coated cock slowly slid in and out of his daughter's mouth, watched as her lips that were the same shade of coral pink as her areolas glided along the length of his shaft, watched as she took his cock better than her mother ever did.




The Summer of His Life



Part of his brain was wondering how on earth she got so good at this, the other part didn't give a shit and he just enjoyed the incredible feeling of his own daughter's mouth on his throbbing, aching cock. God, it felt so incredible as she took him deep, her tongue sliding along his hard, throbbing length, and he groaned as she slowly let him slide out of her hot, wet mouth till just the swollen head of his cock was hovering there on her tongue, caressing him. He swore under his breath when he popped out of her mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting his cock to her lips.

"How bad do you want to cum, Daddy," Hannah asked, looking up at her father as she teasingly slid her hand up and down the length of his saliva coated cock with slow strokes. She could see the tension in his face, tension that was there not because she was giving him a blow job but tense from not having had oral pleasure in a long, long time. She slowly drew her thumb over the smooth, sensitive head of his cock and she smiled when he groaned.

"Hannah, baby, I need to cum so fuckin' bad," he managed, his breathing labored. God, her soft hand felt so good on his cock, better than his wife's ever had. His daughter had pushed him way past the point of no return yet again. His heart was pounding in his chest, slamming against his ribcage with the overwhelming need to fuck his own daughter and there was nothing that could stop him from doing that very act. He was so aroused, so turned on by his own flesh and blood kneeling before him like a whore that another drop of precum started to leak from the tip, trickling down the side of his cock only to be caught by her hand, lubricating his thick shaft even more as she continued to stroke him.

She looked down at her father's thick, hard shaft right in front of her face. Her fantasies had been just that, naughty fantasies about sucking her father's cock while she had been rubbing her swollen clit, but now here she was, on her knees before her father, her eyes fixated on his pulsing cock in her hand, watching as it throbbed in the air, bobbing up and down slightly. She wanted nothing more, at this moment, then to feel her father's cum in her mouth, to taste him, to bring him to the peak of pleasure. She drew her eyes upward and smiled. "Brace yourself, Daddy," she said right before she wrapped her mouth around his cock. She sucked hard, bobbing her head up and down as she took him as far as she could into her mouth, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn't contain. She wanted it all in her mouth and she started sucking even harder, gagging slightly when he hit the back of her throat, looking up at her father's face, tense with unrestrained lust.

Jeremy reached down, pushed her hair back from her face and grabbed hold of the back of her head, holding it and moving it up and down on his cock as his hips started bucking back and forth, gently pushing his rock hard cock deep into his daughter's mouth. He could feel himself getting harder, thicker, the throbbing more intense as precum started to coat her tongue and drip down her throat. He looked down into his daughter's eyes; eyes that use to look at him all innocent like but now were the eyes of a wanton cock slut who couldn't get enough of sucking her own father's cock, the cock that use to fuck her mother, and the cock that had conceived her. But she was no longer his little girl; she was now his fuck toy, his to take pleasure in whenever he chose.

He groaned as her moans sent vibrations through his cock, her hand pumping his saliva coated shaft even harder and he could feel his cum building rapidly, threatening to explode down her throat. Fuck, she could suck cock. She took it so willingly into her mouth, pumping it with her fist and encouraging her own father to pour his hot cum down her throat as so many guys had before. Thank God no one was home to hear them as he moaned and grunted in pleasure as she sucked even harder, her hand jacking him faster.

"Suck it harder, baby. Take me completely into your mouth– Much as you can– Fuck," he grunted as he fisted his fingers into her unruly hair and started to fuck his daughter's face with wild abandon, pushing his big, hard throbbing cock into her mouth as his orgasm started to tighten around the base of his spine. He couldn't believe how fast his own daughter's hot, wet mouth was pushing him closer to the edge. "I'm... gonna... cum... get... re–"

Hannah moaned around her father's cock, taking him deep into her mouth, feeling the smooth head press against the back of her throat with every strong push forward. She heard him call out that he was going to cum and she reached up and grabbed hold of his ass, her fingers digging into the taut, clenching muscles, looking up at him as she sucked him as hard as she could. The last word escaped him on a growl and with one last push of his cock; she felt his body tremble and his cock throb violently as he exploded in her mouth, stream after stream of thick, hot milky white cum shooting into her mouth and down her throat.

She never expected him to have that much cum and she choked just slightly, swallowed, and slurped and sucked, taking everything he had to give her. He seemed to have and endless supply of cum or she just couldn't keep up with his heavy spurts and it started to dribble out of her mouth and onto her breast. She felt his orgasm start to subside and she swallowed the last trickle of cum, slowly let her father's cock slid out of her mouth as she licked his twitching cock clean, making sure she got every last drop. She let the smooth, swollen head pop free of her mouth, a thin string of cum and saliva keeping them joined together, and she licked her lips, catching it and slowly drew her finger across her chin, scooping up the trickle of semen and stuck her finger in her mouth, licking it clean. "Mmmm, you taste so good, Daddy."

Jeremy staggered backwards, completely spent, leaning his hips against her dresser for support, his well-sucked cock no longer hard but still surprisingly long. Stunned and completely entranced, his eyes locked onto his daughter's greedy mouth glistening wet with his semen, watching as she scooped up his cum from her breast and slipped her finger into her mouth, sucking it clean. The daughter he once thought of as demure, shy, inhibited was now the equivalent of a porn star living in his own house.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he drew in several ragged breaths, feeling his heart rate starting to slow and he had a feeling that it was never going to quite return to normal as long as she was around. He reached up and ran a shaky hand over his sweaty face. He had just gotten the best blowjob of his life by his own daughter. "Hannah, where on earth– I mean, how did you... how did you learn how to suck cock like that?"

She looked up at her father as she licked the last of his milky white cum from her finger and sat back on her heels, shrugging her shoulders. Her gaze drifted from his cock to his face. She couldn't believe that she had just sucked her father to orgasm and enjoyed every second of it, more than she should. "I don't know. I sucked boys' cocks before but they were nothing like yours. Yours is so much bigger, so much thicker and I– I couldn't help myself, I just had to suck it so hard and..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted back down to her father's cock, staring at it in all of its magnificent glory.

She could feel that ache again in the pit of her stomach, in her pussy and she slowly let her right hand drift down her belly and between her wide spread legs, her fingers gliding over the swollen lips of her labia, slippery wet with her own arousal, wetter than she had been when she'd fingered her clit. She couldn't believe how wet, how swollen she was and she slipped her fingers between her puffy lips, her creaminess coating her fingers. "Daddy, oh God, Daddy, I'm so fucking wet," she proclaimed, feeling her face start to redden as the f-word slipped out of her mouth.

Jeremy stepped out of his shorts and boxer briefs, kicking them to the side, a pleasing growl escaping him as he watched his daughter's hand once again slip down between her legs to caress her dripping flesh, the reddish-blonde curls at the top of her sex saturated. He stepped closer to her, his cock inches from her face, and reached down to touch her like his lover not his daughter, caressing her swollen breast with his long fingers and pinching her hard nipple. He heard her moan and he paid the same attention to her other breast, tugging on her nipple till it jutted out from her puckered areola before he gently took hold of her arm, easing her to her feet and ushering her over to her bed. "Show me, Hannah, show me how fucking wet you are," he said, stressing the word that he knew brought embarrassment to her when she said it in front of him. His wife never talked like that, but his daughter did and he loved it. "Now sit back, spread your legs and show me how wet you really are."

Hannah sat down on the edge of her bed, scooting back far enough so she could bring her feet up to the edge of the mattress and let her knees fall apart. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she gazed up at her father standing over her and slowly, shyly ran her fingers over her swollen, slippery wet flesh of her labia, parting herself further to her father's gaze. No one had ever watched her play with herself before and the thought excited and embarrassed her at the same time. She could feel how wet she was, wetter than she had ever been for another guy, as her fingers slipped all along her folds, her creamy fluids coating her fingers. She watched as her father knelt in front of her, putting his face right between her thighs, breathing in her scent and she cried out as he stuck his tongue out and lapped up her juices, moaning in pure masculine pleasure as he tasted her, savored her. Her hips jerked at the sudden feel of her father's tongue on her hot, wet flesh. "Daddy! Don't do that. No one's done that before."

Jeremy planted his hands firmly on her hips, holding his daughter to the bed, gazing up at her beautiful face from between her wide-spread thighs. She was so vulnerable in this position, so stunning and he wanted to give her the most pleasure imaginable. And knowing that another guy had never experienced the joy of tasting her sweet pussy only made him want to give her the most amazing orgasm ever. "Trust me, baby girl. Trust your Daddy," he said, his gaze shifting back to the loveliness before him. Her blood-swollen labia and tight little pussy was glistening with her own juices and he stuck his tongue back out, sliding it up and down her pussy lips, lapping up her delicious juices, his lips and tongue working their way up and down the lips of her sex, the inside of her thighs, tasting her everywhere. She tasted better than he could've ever imagined and her taste went straight to his head.

Hannah cried out, fisting her fingers into the bedspread, resting her weight on her forearms as she gazed down at the top of her father's head between her legs as his tongue touched her in places only her fingers had been, where only a couple guys' puny cocks had been. Her pussy was soaked from sucking her own father's massive cock and now his tongue was lapping up those juices, savoring her taste like she had done with him. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she tried to suppress the moans that started to escape her. "Daddy, oh God, Daddy..." she moaned, her smooth legs falling even further apart as his tongue and mouth moved even faster, rhythmically, tasting her, teasing her, pleasing her. She reached down and fisted her fingers into his hair as her hips started to lift off the bed, pressing her throbbing, aching pussy harder against her father's wicked, wicked mouth and tongue. "Daddy... make me cum... make me cum!"

"Mmmm," Jeremy moaned in acknowledgment. There was nothing more he wanted than to make his daughter cum, taste her on his tongue, and he pressed his face tight against her pussy, moaning so she could feel the vibrations through her clit, her pussy lips as he pushed his tongue inside her. He could taste her juices as they started to flow and he clamped his arm over her hips, holding her in place as her hips started to writhe. He worked her tight little pussy over and over again and again with his experienced tongue, touching her in places and ways she'd never felt, eager to make his own horny daughter cum all over his face. He could hear her cries as they got louder and louder and he tightened his grip on her hip, holding her still the best he could as she started to shake and buck uncontrollably.

"Fuck, Daddy, oh fuck," she cried, digging her heels into the edge of the mattress as her muscles started to tighten and her body started to shake. Her orgasm was hitting her harder, faster than she expected but then she never expected her father to be the one bringing her to that orgasm, to have his tongue buried so deep inside her wet pussy, or his lips tugging on her swollen clitoris as he flicked the tip of his tongue over it, licking her creamy juices from her most private parts. She fisted her fingers into the bedspread, her hips writing under her father's strong hold as he clamped his mouth down onto her vulva and fucked her with his tongue, slurping and sucking as he devoured her pussy, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Daddy... Daddy.... fuck... fuck... I'm gonna... cummmm..." Her whole body started to shake and she felt her juices gush from her pussy so fast that she didn't even realize it was happening and she screamed. "Daaadeee!" Her heels slipped from the edge of the bed as her legs gave out under her but still he continued, his tongue pushing deep inside her sopping wet pussy, stroking her, tasting her, making her gush in his mouth over and over again, his strong hands holding her in place even as her body bucked and strained against them as she tried to get free, tried to break away from the unbearable pleasure he was inflicting on her. "Oh, fuck! I can't believe you just did that!"

Jeremy slowly licked the last of her creamy nectar from her dripping pussy as the last wave of her orgasm rolled through her trembling body. He raised his head from between her thighs and released his hold on her hips and softly caressed her quivering thighs as she lay panting and gasping for air, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He drew his tongue over his lips, savoring the taste of her as he slowly got to his feet. His cock was semi-hard, bobbing in the air as he straightened. He looked down at his daughter, splayed out on the bed like a whore needing to be fucked; her legs spread wide, the bedspread wet under her, her hair spilled out around her head, her pale blue eyes full of untamed lust looking up at him. Her mother hadn't looked at him like that in a long, long time. His daughter was so much more arousing, so much hotter and more beautiful than her mother ever could be.

Hannah raised herself up onto her elbows, pushed her damp hair back from her face and gazed up at the man standing over her, the man that had just given her the most amazing orgasm in her life. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body and she could see her juices that dampened his chin. She slowly drew her bottom lip into her mouth, her legs lazily rubbing together. He looked so fuckin' hot standing there. Her father was gone, now he was just a man, a man with a huge cock that she wanted to feel inside her again and again and her gaze drifted down to that cock. "Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me with that huge cock," she begged, not believing the words that had just come out of her mouth. She never talked like that, never used the f-word so freely, but then she never thought she'd be lying here on her bed naked with her own father standing over her and the lingering taste of his semen on her tongue. "Fuck me hard until I scream."

He reached down and wrapped his hand around his semi-hard cock and gave it a firm stroke, feeling it pulse in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to bury his cock deep in his daughter's tight, wet pussy but he wanted her to beg him for it, beg him like the cum slut he was going to turn her into. "Talk to me, Hannah, like you talk to the boys. Tell me what you tell them, beg me like you beg them, act with me like you act with them, but be prepared for a much better time. When you can get daddy's cock completely hard, then you'll get fucked. One rule, though. No touching it."

She shifted her gaze up to his face, her pale blue eyes locking with his. She shifted her weight to her left forearm as she slowly started caressing her body with her right hand. She cupped her breast in her hand, squeezing it and molding it for his visual inspection, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, tugging on it until it was hard and standing out from her breast for him. "Do you want to play with my breasts and suck on my nipples, Daddy?" she asked, watching the expression change on his face, watching as his eyes started to darken with lust. 

Her hand drifted down her body, caressing her soft skin. "Do you want to kiss my body, Daddy? Lick my skin, touch me like no father should touch his daughter?" She once again drew her feet up to the edge of the bed as her fingers drifted down the swell of her belly and she let her legs fall even further apart so he could see how wet she was, her skin glistening with her fluids. She reached down and parted her swollen lips further with her fingers, opening herself to him, feeling her slippery juices coat her fingers.

Her gaze drifted down to his cock, watching as it bobbed in the air, slowly getting harder, thicker. She ran the tip of her finger around her tight entrance. "Do you want to fuck my tight little pussy, Daddy? Do you want to stretch me open, feel my hot, tight cunt grabbing at your cock?" She moaned as she pushed one finger, slick with her own juices, inside her pussy, clamping her pelvic muscles down around it. "Ooooo, so tight, Daddy. So wet. So hot." She watched as her father's cock throbbed, semi-erect now. She wanted him completely erect, rock hard and dripping precum. She looked up and him as she pushed her finger in deeper slowly drawing it out of her dripping pussy and brought it, glistening wet up to her mouth, and slowly licked it clean. "Taste so good, Daddy."

Jeremy groaned. He wanted to do all of that to her and then some. He was unable to tear his eyes off of his own daughter as she behaved like a wanton slut, begging him to fuck her, watching as she licked her own essence off her finger. His cock was throbbing but she didn't have him fully erect.

Hannah stared at her father's cock. She wanted, needed it deep inside her aching pussy. "Oh, God, Daddy," she moaned, her voice trailing off as she quickly jammed her hand between her legs again. This time she use two fingers to part her blood-swollen labia, her middle finger zeroing in on her well sucked, sensitive clit, rubbing herself, her fingers slippery with her own juices. She was so tender down there that her hips jerked under the touch of her own fingers but she rubbed anyway. "Fuck, Daddy...I want your cock...I need your cock...Fuck me..." she panted, her glistening fingers moving even faster, her hips arching off the mattress.

Her eyes were focused on his hardening cock as it raised rapidly, its girth and length increasing before her eyes, the veins pulsing and skin tightening around it as it got harder and harder. She wanted it inside her so bad that she started rubbing her clit even harder, her hips starting to buck as her orgasm started to rip through her. "Oh, fuck, Daddy...fuck...I'm cumming..." she panted. "Oh...gawd...fuck me..." Her whole body quivered and shook as her juices gushed from her cunt, running down the crack of her ass to soak into the bedspread, the stain growing in size as her pussy spasmed, pushing out another heavy flood.




The Summer of My Pregnancy



This scene takes place at a beachfront vacation. A husband sits on the beach with his family and right nearby is a beautiful woman: incredibly pregnant. His secret desire is right next to him. His obsessive thoughts of sexy pregnant women he's kept hidden from everyone are running rampant. He puts on his sunglasses so he can gaze in her direction without being noticed. Little does he know but "Heather" is very aware of his attentions. 

I've used the name "John" for you (the client). 

Substitute your name and the name of your favorite pregnant sweetheart by cutting and pasting as you wish. This story is written exclusively by use by the wayward phone-sex girl for her client's pregnancy obsession. But it's for anyone with a pregnant fetish. The title.....

The Summer of My Pregnancy....written by Heather in her eighth month

It has been a long hot summer.

I've been invited to spend the week at the shore with my girlfriends. 

Today we have decided to go shopping.

But really, in my condition, I've decided to stay behind and sit out on the beach instead.

So I've walked out on our crowded beach to sit in my chair with my beach towel and a book: all by myself.

It is a beautiful sunny day.

There were times when a pregnant woman would never be seen in a two-piece but times have changed haven't they?

I'm wearing a pretty pink bikini that allows my exposed pregnant belly to tan with the rest of my body.

I love the sun so much that even my blonde hair has been getting even blonder.

It doesn't take long for me to notice the family next to me sitting on the sand.

And that is when I notice you looking at me.

In my sunglasses it might look like I'm reading my book but actually I'm observing you from the corner of my eye.

You and your family are right next to where I'm sitting.

It becomes very obvious that you, in particular, have been looking at me John; not just once or twice by every chance you get.

I'm in such a strange mood.

I'm feeling playful.

I'm in a mood for teasing.

I know you are watching me.

You've caught me at the right moment because John, I am craving attention right now.

I decide to test your attention.

I lower my book and look at my baby bump.

I run my hand slowly over my pregnant belly pretending I felt the baby move.

I allow my hand to linger there exploring it with my hand.

And there you are, sure enough, watching me the whole time.

Most men ignore me John.

I am a woman in her latest stage of pregnancy.

I know I'm pretty. 

Men used to stare and flirt with me constantly.

But after eight months of pregnancy things like flirtatious looks from other men don't happen like they used to.

It makes me sad that men don't think I'm beautiful.

Because being pregnant like this, I have been feeling more sexy than I ever have in my whole life!

I have always hoped somewhere there are men who find pregnant women desirable.

And here on this beach, quite unexpectedly, it seems as if I've discovered that man.

But you are surrounded by your family.

What am I to do?

I feel your eyes on me and an indescribable feeling comes over me.

It's like a switch has been turned on inside.

In just seconds: I desire sex.

My husband wants nothing to do with me.

Don't ask me why.

Oh, he's nice and everything but the more I have grown pregnant the less he wants sex.

My pregnancy is so advanced, my belly is so big and tight its belly button is popping out.

My breasts are enormous.

My areolas have gotten darker and my nipples have become thick and toughened becoming ready for the baby when she comes.

They are sensitive and respond immediately to every touch.

Everything I have is there for my husband whenever he wants me.

But he doesn't want me.

I've tried to talk with him about it.

He doesn't realize how much I think about it: how much I need it.

In a matter of seconds I can change from the perfectly conservative expectant mother to a woman who craves the way it used to be.

It happens all the time for me.

One moment I am fine.

And the next I am craving a cock that is massaging the thick walls of my vagina, sliding up inside me, massaging, satisfying my hunger for it and it takes over all my thoughts!

My husband even knows just how far I would debase myself for him if only he would fuck me long and hard and yet he does nothing about it. 

He ignores me!

I used to feel ashamed lusting after his cock so often.

I have gotten on my knees and sucked him so good praying he would give it to me a long hard pussy fucking me until I come so good: just once.

And he won't do it.

I become so hungry for that kind of sex I can spend hours in my bed alone pleasing myself with my fingers playing with my clit, putting them inside my own pussy until I make myself come.

It's so frustrating because it doesn't satisfy me completely.

But that is all I have.

I deserve more that, John.

And here you suddenly are surrounded by your family giving me looks that are driving me wild.

I don't care about what anyone thinks.

I will do everything I can to enhance and develop that attention in any way I can.

I have been deprived for far too long to let this chance pass me by.

I need to make you really see me.

I'm taking off my sunglasses and pretending I don't notice you.

I reach in my bag for suntan lotion.

I squeeze it onto the palm of my hand and slip my bikini straps so they drape down my arms and apply lotion lovingly to my bare shoulders.

More, thick creamy white sunblock is applied carefully to the slope of my chest.

My fingertips go just beneath my bikini top seam carefully finding places which just might become sunburned if I don't protect myself.

I re-arrange my bikini straps on my shoulders again.

I adjust my pink top adjusting it so my oversized breasts settle into their cups more comfortably.

I am slow and obvious to you yet I pretend you aren't watching.

I can't lean over this pregnant belly like other girls

In this higher style lawn chair and one ankle across my knee there is no missing my parted legs, my bikini bottoms and the way they hug my crotch.

I apply sunblock onto each one of my legs very deliberately.

Another woman would excuse that display due to my condition.

But spending all that time positioned this way allows you to see the bulge of my pregnant pussy straining against the material right there before your eyes.

That view of me was for your eyes John.

I can feel you watching me intently.

I use my hands slowly on my inner thighs framing the obvious space between my legs.

The sun is warm. I shake back my silky blonde hair.

I stand up from my chair.

I squeeze more sunblock into my palm.

I apply that sunblock lovingly onto my pregnant belly as if I am completely alone on this beach.

I smooth its protection slowly and deliberately: all over its sides, its heavy bulge, even testing my popped out belly button.

Ten feet away you are sitting there with your friends and family staring at this private sensual ritual I have provided for just you.

Watch as my hands apply it all about the abundance of my protruding belly until I have made sure every bit has been absorbed by its upper bulge, its swollen sides and by working two hands beneath its underside carefully every inch of this eighth month fullness of my pregnancy has been lovingly attended to.

There is more John.

I turn away and try to reach my back with sun block ; moving from one hip to the other.

You can see the fullness of my buttocks in my pink bikini bottoms.

There is no missing my wide hips or my waistline and the protrusion of my belly on both sides.

I will bend forward to put sunblock on the backs of my legs so you can't miss this ass of mine and 

a peek at my pussy from behind.

It bulges tight and firm against the offered crotch of my bikini bottoms for you.

You haven't missed any of it.

How to separate you from your family is my only thought.

I decide maybe it's time to visit the waters' edge to cool my feet.

This way I can walk carefully past where you are sitting.

No one is paying any attention to me but you.

As I pass I look into your eyes and smile at you for the first time and you smile back..

At the waters' edge I look back over my shoulder to where you are sitting and hold my stare for a moment.

I see you talk to your family as they begin picking up their belongings and leave the beach for lunch as you linger behind.

I'm hoping we can finally talk when I see you come to where I'm standing.

I am so filled with anticipation.

You are beside me.

We make small talk.

You are handsome, friendly, attentive and so nice 

We talk about my baby coming.

You compliment me.

I move the conversation to my girlfriends and my beach house.

It's right nearby, I tell you, only a walk away.

I mention how comfortable it is compared to this hot beach.

I tell you I'm thinking of going up there.

Would you mind helping me with my chair?

My mind is racing.

My friends will be gone from the beach house for hours.

You agree.

There is no sign of your friends or family.

Do you see what I mean?

In no time at all my thoughts are overwhelmed by sinful, illicit thoughts focusing on you being alone with me inside those doors.

You carry my chair as we walk across the sand.

I pretend to lose my balance so I can take your arm.

It stays there.

I've brushed against you.

I'm in this little cover-up. 

It barely hides my pregnant belly.

It's obvious where your eyes are looking.

I've wanted to get your complete attention.

I tried not to be obvious about it but now I am and you know it.

The sand is hot.

We get to the house and stand by the outdoor shower where you hose off our feet for us both before we go inside.

You are so cute John.

You offer to dry my feet for me.

We close the sliding doors behind us.

I explain again that my girlfriends won't be back for hours.

Would you like to sit down and have a drink with me?

It's so hot outside and it's so comfortable in here isn't it?

John I saw how you were watching me on the beach.

You are so different about pregnant women than other men.

I think I know how you feel about them..

You see pregnant women all the time.

You stare at their pregnant bellies, their breasts bulging out of their tops,

You see them in stores, at the mall, walking with their girlfriends, in restaurants, in the office, you see them every day and they seem so reserved, private and content going about their lives and waiting for the birth of their child.

But you have no idea what we are going through inside.

If men who are excited by a pregnant woman knew that about us: oh my god.

It doesn't matter if we are single, living with someone or happily married: we yearn for attention from a man every minute of the day.

And it's not conversation we want.

We've worked at our jobs for as long as we could.

Now we are so pregnant that we are at home, we can't sleep, our backs hurt, our feet are sore and our maternity leave is so boring we are going crazy.

There is nothing to do but wait. Our husbands are at work. Our friends aren't around.

There is TV and magazines and we can go shopping or take a walk but everywhere we go and everything we think about goes back to wanting to just feel good like we used to, wanting to feel pleasure again, and always, always, always: wanting sex. 

It is much more than our emotions.

No matter how prudent we think we are, there are hormones and feelings raging inside us that would make us abandon everything waiting faithfully at home.

I am going to make an admission to you.

Every other pregnant woman you've seen is no different than I am John.

We have the same urges, the same desires and the same wants.

Eventually we yearn to be satisfied in a man's arms.

Something as simple as a hello can make us all into your sweet lovely pregnant Heather: sensual, aroused and so very willing.

It's every pregnant woman's obsession.

They would happily be in the same predicament that I am in with you right now.

We have what you love.

You watching me on the beach made me feel so sexy.

It made me feel desired John and I need that right now. 

I can't be blamed if I like feeling desired and here we are alone.

"Oh!"

I can feel the baby move.

Here: feel my belly. 

Can you feel it? 

Can you feel her movement inside me?

Put your hands here like that. 

Oh My! She's very active today!

I can see the excitement in your eyes. 

You've wanted to and now I've finally gotten you to touch me.

I need your touch so bad John.

It's so soothing, so comforting and I don't want you to stop.

No one will ever know about this.

Why are you hesitating?

You are standing right in front of me.

No one will ever find out.

Will it convince you if I remove my cover-up?

What if I exposed my breasts to you?

Supposed I took off my top?

I'm doing it, John: slipping out of my cover-up, reaching behind to unhook the catch of my bikini top, slipping it over my shoulders and tossing it to the sofa behind me.

Look at them John.

See how full they are, how swollen they are, how filled with milk they are becoming?

See how thick my areolas are.

Look how thick and stiffened my nipples have become?

Why are you hesitating?

Aren't they everything you want?

Please: no one will ever know.

Here: let me take your wrists and pull your hands to them. Will that convince you?

There: John, yes.

Your hands are so forceful on my breasts!

Yes, that's it.

Feel how hard my nipples are against your palms.

You are squeezing them John.

You have no idea how much I need to be touched this way.

My husband won't even kiss me.

He doesn't care how badly I need to be touched.

Kiss me please John.

Just let me feel your lips against mine.

Kiss me while you lift my breasts and feel their weight in your hands.

My nipples are like stiff cones. Pinch them for me.

Kiss me again John: yes.

Will this convince you?

I will sit on this sofa in front of you.

I am unlacing your swimsuit and undoing the velcro and sliding them down.

Don't stop playing with my titties.

Oh my god, John!

Look how hard you've become for me!

I'm releasing your manhood; that cock of yours.

Oh god, John, your beautiful cock is in my face.

I want it in my hands so it can't escape.

I'm kissing it John.

I'm kissing the head of your engorged cock, John.

I'm licking it.

I'm holding your wonderful hard cock and putting my tongue all over it like a delicious vanilla cone.

Don't stop me John.

I want to do this.

I want your cock in my mouth.

I don't care anymore.

I have your balls in one hand while my other is grasping the thick shaft of your cock.

My lips are wet on the head of your cock.

Play with me John.

Play with my titties, work them with your hands and pinch my nipples.

Twist them, god yes, while I suck your hard cock.

I want to suck it deep like I never have sucked another man's cock before.

I love it.

I'm slobbering all over it and its' become wet with my saliva.

It's bulging so strong for me.

I will take it deep into my throat if you want.

I feel it pushing my tongue out of the way. 

I feel it against the back of my throat.

It's choking me and I don't care.

Test me with it.

Hold my head in your hands.

Fuck my mouth with your cock until I'm gagging on it.

Fuck my mouth until your cock is forcing me to salivate all over it.

Use me like your cock-sucking little pregnant whore.

Look into my eyes while my lips surround its head.

Look at my pretty blue eyes staring at you while your cock enters my mouth over and over again.

Make my eyes water.

Look at the concern in my face.

Look at my disbelief.

I could have had no idea the size of it, the girth, the thickness of it widening my mouth filling it completely with hot cock flesh.

Going down my throat this way I have to hold onto your hips.

My mouth is clamped about its thick shaft John!

Look down at your pretty pregnant slut now.

Her eyes are wet.

Her mascara is running and she doesn't care.

Hold her long hair.

Pull that hair out of its tie-back so it hangs around her face.

She is your very own pretty cock-hungry pregnant Heather.

My pregnancy has been so ordinary, so reserved and normal.

But that is over forever.

Fuck my mouth with your cock John.

I've never been handled with such humiliating sexual passion in my life.

My humiliation has become irresistible, god help me.

It excites me beyond belief.

Can it only be because I am pregnant?

Or will I always be this way from now on?

What have I been missing?

My heart is pounding.

I could have never imagined being used this way!

Never: ever have I hungered for something like this until now.

Not like this John.

The noises I'm making sucking your cock, slurping licking gasping: they fill the room with their oral sounds.

I can hear myself moan for it, god help me, like a shameful slutty whore.

I don't care.

My groaning is only proof of my debasement.

The unmistakable aroma of cock mixed with my saliva fills the air around us.

The smell of sex: so good and so missing from my life for so long.

I am so fucking wet sitting on the edge of this couch.

I pull away from your massive cock and my saliva streams between your cock and my lips.

I am beside myself with arousal.

I grasp your wet shaft and smear it against my face.

I smear it against my neck, my chin, my cheeks, my eyes, my lips until my tongue is all loving and desperate on your cock again.

I have become such a dirty girl: your dirty pregnant whore.

God help me, it excites me so much to be that for you.

How long will I continue to do this?!

Would I do this until your cock comes all over my face?!?

I would do that willingly: gladly John.

You pull away from my mouth and lips with a slurp.

That wet sucking slurp echoes in the empty room.

Your wet slippery cock goes right to my breasts.

You ask me to hold my own titties in front of you.

I obey.

I manipulate them the way you demand.

I press them together.

I knead my own breasts until my nipples pop erect.

I allow you to grind and press your cock all over my pregnant titties.

The way you want.

Your cockhead is sloppy against my hard nipples, John, all slippery with my own saliva and your pre-come.

The sexy smell of it fills my nostrils: the sex-smell of sucked cock and leaking come all over my wet breasts.

The smell of sex is all over me.

My nostrils are flared with the aroma of sex

Rubbing that wet cockhead over my nipples you start smearing it against my pregnant belly.

Cock all over my pregnancy.

Your demanding insistent engorged cock is rubbing itself all over my pregnant belly.

This beautiful massive cock has me in its control.

I am so aroused arousing I can almost feel your testosterone seeping into my flesh.

Look at me.

Look at my pleading blue eyes staring at you!

Look how I've pulled my breasts out to make my nipples find your cockhead.

Listen to my sighs.

You can hear me groan for your cock can't you?

Why won't my husband fuck me?

He knows how much I need it.

But you are different John.

You love me for my condition.

Just listen to the shameful admissions I'm making to you!

Like the cock-hungry slut I know I've become.

Oh!

You are lowering yourself to your knees between my legs!

I'm moving my hips to the edge of this sofa.

There is my wet pussy there for whatever you want to do to it.

My cunt is all warm wet and soft hidden beneath the bulge of my pregnant belly.




The Summer of My Pregnancy



Its wide open waiting for whatever you want from it John.

You're licking it.

You have your lips all over my pregnant pussy kissing it: adoring it.

John how could any woman deny me this?

Your amazing tongue is circling my clitoris and making it stiff.

You're sucking on it.

Oh fuck: that feels so good.

John for god's sake I need to be fucked so bad.

Please take my hand John.

Help me up.

Standing here face to face: your hands are all over me.

My huge pregnant belly is pressing against you.

I feel your erection trying to open my legs.

My breasts, large full against your chest, have hardened nipples so ready to be sucked.

Kiss me this way.

Hold me.

Kiss me.

Let me taste my own pussy.

Take my hand and let me take you to my bedroom.

I know it's a mess. My things are everywhere. My clothes are all over the place. The bed is unmade. I never expected this when I woke up this morning.

The sun is shining across my bedclothes and I shove them out of the way.

The bed is already warm.

John everyone who knows us is busy.

They don't know what we are doing.

They don't care where we are.

We can fuck all day if we want to.

Come to me on my bed.

Let me lay down while you lay beside me.

Hold your pregnant Heather.

Hold me.

Let your hands stroke my pregnant belly.

Caress my breasts.

Your touch makes me crazy for you.

Squeeze my titties so forcefully that my nipples pop out so you can suck them John.

Suck them John.

Lick them.

Suck on them hard for me.

Take my whole breast into your mouth.

Suck them hard John.

I'm opening my legs for you while you do it.

Stroke your hand over my warm pregnant belly all the way to its underside all the way to my pussy.

My swollen wet cunt is so thick and swollen.

Your fingers are in my labia.

My clit is so wet and stiffened.

Finger my hungry clit for me.

I am so fucking wet for you.

Your fingers are up inside me!

Deep up into my warm wet babyhole as far as you can and fuck me with them.

I want your fingers deep up inside me.

Fuck me with them John.

Fuck me hard with them: as hard and as fast as you can.

I can hardly reach down to your cock but I want to hold it while you do this to me.

Turn around on my bed for me.

I'm rolling on my side for you.

Lay on your side facing me.

Your face is against my pregnant belly.

Your cock is so fucking hard in my hand

I can't resist sucking your beautiful sticky cock again.

I've got it all wet with my saliva so fast

Your pre-come is leaking out and I'm licking it out of your slit tasting it.

Fuck my pussyhole with your fingers some more.

Stretch to reach my pussy and lick me John.

Tongue my pregnant pussy.

Suck on my swollen clit.

I can't keep my hands away from your hard cock while I'm sucking it.

I'm squeezing, holding your balls stroking it with every suck.

My friends are all out shopping.

Your family won't know you are gone.

We are alone and all I want is to be fucked by you.

I want you to fuck me.

I want your stiff throbbing cock deep up inside my wet pussy.

I want you to take your fuck-hungry pregnant Heather and fuck her until she screams John.

I'm rolling over on my belly and grabbing these pillows

You are moving behind me.

I'm on my knees for you now.

My ass is up in the air for you waiting.

I'm looking back at you waiting.

I'm reaching for your hips behind me moving in close.

Oh fuck .

Work that cockhead between my opened pussylips.

Make that huge cockhead split my labia open wide.

Press that cock into the opening of my babyhole.

Its going in me further.

Its going up inside me deeper.

You're starting to shove that cock deep inside me now.

Oh fuck!

Its so fucking big!

Oh fuck me John.

Keep fucking me like that.

You're going in and out of my hungry pussy over and over.

I can feel it inside me.

I can feel how my pussy walls are grasping at it when you enter me.

I'm gripping your hard cock with my pregnant pussy.

You're shoving it all the way to my cervix.

You're pounding me with your hard cock again and again.

I can feel it being pulled out when all I want is you cock shoved deep inside me again.

And then it does!

And it feels more wonderful each time.

See how my blonde hair is all over my pillows.

My back is arched upwards to you.

My hands are filled with fistfuls of the sheets.

I'm holding on while the thrill of your rock-hard erection works itself into me time and time again.

You make me moan like I'm begging for it.

And I am.

Fuck me John.

Fuck me hard and deep.

Plunge that hot cock into my pregnant pussy.

Fill my babyhole with it.

In and out John: fucking me so good.

My breasts are engorged.

On my hands and knees they are swinging forward and backwards with each of your thrusts.

My baby, my pregnancy, my huge pregnant belly is resting protected beneath me while my pussy gets all the cock it needs.

Reach down. Reach around my sides and hold it while you fuck me.

Your cock is massaging the whole length of my cock-hungry vagina.

My babyhole is cradling and squeezing on it.

I'm shoving my ass against it.

Hold my shoulders while you slam that cock into me.

Reach around and grab these huge tits of mine.

Hold my pregnant belly and fuck me John.

What you are doing to me is exactly what every pregnant woman wants.

It's what we think of every minute of every day.

It's what we lust for. It's what we long for. It's what we deserve.

I tried to keep my orgasm a secret.

I really did.

But you heard me groan then tense underneath you and felt my pussy clutching on your cock and there was no hiding it.

I fucking came all over your cock, John.

I did.

But you kept on fucking me and I came a second time for you.

Now I want you to come inside me yourself.

I pull away and roll on my back.

Now you can see me and everything I have.

It seems difficult but if you get on your knees and sit between my legs I can work my ass up against you so you can fuck me this way.

You can enter me again.

Arch your back and shove that hard cock into me.

Hold my hips up onto you.

Fuck my pregnant pussy baby.

You can see all of me now while you do it.

You can reach down and hold my pregnant belly.

You can reach forward and manipulate my breasts.

You can twist and pull my swollen nipples.

You can watch my pretty face.

You can see the desire in my eyes as I hold your arms waiting for you to come inside me.

Just fuck me the way you want.

Look down at that thick hard cock enter my drenched pussy.

My juices are dripping down my thighs and my ass.

My babyhole is milking your cock like I've never fucked anyone in my life.

Come inside me if that is what you want.

Oh, it's coming now isn't it John.

It's coming inside me! 

All of your thick hot sperm is gushing.

You're pulling it out!

Oh: my god.

It's spilling out of my pussy!

I can feel it spurting up the slope of my pregnant belly!

Hot jets of your white come loaded with your sperm its laying in thick streams all over it.

Oh my sweet baby.

Oh sweetheart its

It's so fucking good.

Please let me do something quickly.

Bring your cock up to my lips.

Bring it to my mouth.

Let me suck the rest of your come from your beautiful cock.

Let me clean it all off with my tongue.

Let it slip back into my mouth until every drop is gone.

It's still warm as it deflates.

Let it do all its final pulses this way. 

I want to keep it there and feel all its hardness relax.

Until I've had every drop of your come.

John, I would do this for you every day if you wanted.

You can come back to me whenever you want.



The Summer of Nora



Nora. Red-haired, round-bottomed, small-breasted. Thin, lithe and angular. Shaved her pubic hair into patterns, depending on her mood. Tattoo of a treble clef on her ankle. Her relationship before me had been with a woman. After me, she moved in with a couple. Sometimes I led my girlfriends (later, my wife) to the dark side. Nora had a steady table there long before I got to her.

We met through an increasingly graphic bit of mutual flirtation one night at a bar where she was waiting tables. It began with a clumsy comment of mine about her red lipstick. It ended with her briefly lifting her skirt to flash a single candle-like flame outlined in fine auburn hair above her pussy.

It turned out we were both musicians. She came to my next show, I went to hers, and about the time she dragged me into the woman's room, pressed me back against the wall with her hand and sucked me off without locking the door, I knew we were going to be friends. An innocent-looking blonde passed us on our way out. I caught Nora looking at her ass. "Where was she a minute ago?" she said, then pushed me back out to the bar in front of the stage.

Over the next few months, we left bits of clothing and a trail of disbelieving stares all over town. She'd ride topless in my car. Blow me in traffic jams. One night she pulled me out of the car, bent herself against a parking-lot wall, hiked her skirt up and had me fuck her in the ass right there. She came, then turned around, got on her knees, and cupped her hands in front of me for me to jerk off into. When I did, she looked me in eye and licked my come slowly out of her hands, never breaking eye contact as she swallowed it until it was gone.

She was a bad one.

On nights we weren't together, she'd call me as she was about to come. Let me listen to those short shallow breaths that preceded the soul-deep sigh of her orgasm. Say my name as she came.

The "other woman" thing was ever present in our sex. She'd flirt with girls when we were together, make out with one every once in a while. When she blew me, she'd nibble one side of my cock and rub her fingertips over the other side, saying "This is her." When we fucked, she'd lick a finger and flick it over my balls or against my asshole. "That's her tongue."

She'd had a threesome before, with her husband at the time. She liked the woman, thought her husband was a clod throughout it. All penis and no soul. She finished with the woman alone the next weekend. Still jonesed for the real thing.

There were certainly nights it looked like we were headed that way, intentionally or otherwise. She hit it off with a short-haired, boyish woman in a gay bar one night. They disappeared into the woman's room together, came back out fifteen minutes later, sat next to me. Nora squeezed my leg and nodded, indicating that what I thought might be happening later would indeed be happening later. But not long after that, her new friend kissed her on the cheek, squeezed her hand, and headed out.

Another night her ex-roommate Gin confessed to us, in an off-hand comment, that if she were ever to be with another woman, she'd want it to be Nora. Nora walked over, gave her a deep, soulful kiss, then left the room to get changed for the night. Gin looked at me in flushed amazement, looked down at her own erect nipples poking against her white-silk top, and fanned herself with dramatic flourish.

I adored Gin. She was dark and feminine. Black hair, green eyes. No sharp angles, the anti-Nora, pure sensual economy. And an impossible pair of tits, all perfect circles and subtle swells, complete with a freshly pierced nipple she'd proudly shown off several weeks before.

Gin often spent the night at one or another of our houses after an evening out together. None of us was ever shy about walking around naked. She'd presumably heard us having sex more than once, since it was rarely a quiet affair. She'd even seen the polaroids (remember those?) Nora had taken of my cock, Nora's pussy, us fucking—a bit of knowledge that turned me on, my proclivity for being watched being what it is.

But it was not to be. Nora said she felt like she knew Gin too well after living with her, that the window had probably passed. I said that that that was 20 pounds and two hairstyles ago. By most objective measures, Gin was hot, windows or no. "Then fuck her," Nora said, nonchalantly.

So we continued as a platonic threesome, albeit one with undertones.

One night the three of us--Nora, Gin and I--were getting ready to go out. Nora's place was a funky little pad over a garage, with a bar just up the street, where we were headed. Gin had showered, was wearing a tight pair of thin black pants and a lacy little black bra, nipple ring occasionally glinting through the tight fabric. She was looking through Nora's closet for shirts to wear. Nora herself was in a ratted pink t-shirt she'd bought for change at the salvation army, a pair of boxer shorts. Ironing. I was lying on the bed, my own shirt not yet on, enjoying the eye candy.

Phone rang. I answered. Hesitation. Then, "...Hello? Did I get Nora's house?"

I brought the phone to Nora. Gin headed out to the living room to try on her bounty. I joined her there to get a beer. Gin tapped me on my back and nodded toward Nora, who was flushed, smiling, posture slackened. Leaning against the door frame, funnelling a section of her soul into the phone receiver.

Cass. Clearly.

Cass was Nora's ex-girlfriend, for whom it was safe to say the window was still open. They'd had prodigious and explosive sex, the details of which Nora often used as adult bedtime stories. "So, you want to hear about the time Cass came for eight minutes straight?" "Want to hear about the night Cass used a strap-on on my ass?" And so on. But never a threesome—Cass wouldn't have it. In the end, they only broke it off only because Cass had moved away.

Silhouetted against the bedroom doorway, Nora had begun absent-mindedly circling a thumb around one of her nipples through her salvation army shirt as she spoke, Gina looked at her and back at me and squeezed my shoulder. "Sorry, big guy," she said. I told her I didn't mind, which was true.

Neither Nora nor I had any illusions that we were a permanent thing. It was temporary insanity. Skydiving. In a way, that's what freed us to do the things we did.

"Here, check this out," Gin said, still trying to change the subject for me. She lowered the front of her pants just far enough to show me a new tattoo, a tiny yellow rose, right at her bikini line. Just far enough down to make evident that she'd waxed clean the neatly trimmed bush I'd caught sight of during our sleepovers.

"Very nice," I said. "Did it hurt?" "Oh, yes," she said, with no indication in her twinkling green eyes that that bothered her.

Nora came back in, uncharacteristically flushed.

"Cass?" Gin asked.

Nora nodded. "Guess where?"

Gin looked down, not wanting to intrude on what she assumed was an uncomfortable moment for Nora and me. She turned around to try another top on.

"You want to head down there first, or should we all still go together?" I said.

"I thought I'd run down first, if that's..." Nora was quieter than I'd usually heard her. Her nipples were hard. Her mind was elsewhere.

"We'll see you there. Enjoy," I said, heading to the couch with my beer. Nora was in a different time zone, ambling back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. Gin was looking at me, what--impressed? Confused? Compassionate? Something.

Gin sashayed back to the bedroom herself to look for more shirts. Nora reappeared from there there moments later in her "bad girl" outfit--a short plaid skirt, long boots, a gauzy top, red-red lipstick. Blew a kiss and wiggled her panty-less ass for me on the way out the door. The door shut and clicked and Gin and I were alone.

She was in Nora's bedroom, checking herself out in Nora's full-length mirror. Front, side view, rear end--the patented self-examination procedure of women the world over. She'd settled on a silky, tapered, button-down deep-green shirt, which she'd left strategically open to reveal the lacy trim of the black bra and the stunning swell of her breasts. A little make-up, some scattered glitter on her chest. A soft-focus wet-dream. Jesus.

I stood in the doorway and watched. She looked over, smiled softly, turned to face me. "Good?" she asked.

"Jesus," I said.

She walked over to me, pressed her hands against my chest, then pinched both my nipples--hard. She lifted herself on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear.

"Glad you like it," she said. She tugged forcefully on my nipples, made a look like she was trying to find the right place to take a bite--ear, neck, shoulder, lip--then let go and continued into the living room.

"Let's go, big guy. We're wanted elsewhere."

I was stuck to the wall, stunned. Turned on.

She showed no signs of coming back, so I grabbed my shirt from my gym bag, pulled it on, and joined Gin at the front door. She looked me up and down, lingered a moment on what must have been clear evidence of my arousal against my jeans, shook her head once to herself and headed out the door. I followed. Of course.

The bar was called Maggie's, owned by, of all things, a man named Maggie. Short for Dimaggio. Regular place, not a joint, not a club. No bikers, no bankers. Something in between. Bands on weekends, I'd played there myself way back.

Small crowd tonight, straighter types. People in khaki pants. Older.

No sign of Nora or Cass.

Gin and I took a quick circuit, looking for the girls. And closing in on each other. I'd stand next to her, she'd linger a moment, find a reason to move, brush against me as she did. I faced the bar ordering drinks, she backed against me gently. As we stood and took our first sips, she played with her shirt collar to flash a deeper view of the exquisite swell of her breasts. And when she turned again to scan the place for our two compatriots, she grazed the front of my pants with her graceful hips.

I closed in behind her.

"I think you might be a bad girl, Gin."

She made no effort to move this time. "Mmt-mm, Nora's the bad girl. I'm a good girl." Then she turned her head back so her mouth was next to mine. She looked me straight in the eye. "Or don't you fuck good girls?"

She slipped her hand between us and ran her thumb down the underside of my cock, which was pressed uncomfortably against the front of my jeans. Gave me a single squeeze.

The middle-aged woman sitting closest to us tisked disapprovingly and turned away. Taking a page from Nora's book, I took Gin's hand and led her back to the woman's room. Pushed the door open and pressed her against the wall to kiss her. She stiffened, stopped me, pointed to the sink across from us.

On which Nora was sitting, legs apart, head back, mouth open, heaving, while Cass, a short, soft, honey-haired blond in upscale-hippie clothes, crouched with one arm around Nora's waist and the other pistoning forcefully under her skirt, presumably pushing a finger or three into Nora with each thrust.

I'll say that differently. There, in the bathroom, was a beautiful woman with her hand inside my girlfriend.

Stunning.

I backed against the wall next to Gin, she reached over and placed her palm flat against the front of my jeans, squeezing me rhythmically, running her other fingers lightly across her own lips. She was transfixed. Sidled her ass back in front of my cock, keeping her hand on me. Pressed back. Rested her head on my chest. I cupped her breasts, she held my hands there with her free arm and writhed a bit. I pinched her nipples through her shirt and she grunted, stroking me faster through my jeans.

Cass heard this and turned around, stopped moving her arm for a second. She was lovely. Fair-skinned, natural, wearing a flowing skirt of some sexily disorganized material, a suede vest with apparently nothing underneath, a complicated necklace. Long honeyed hair that kept moving after she'd stopped.

Nora looked up, saw that it was us, and shook her head no--don't stop. Grabbed Nora's hand rode it a bit with her pussy. Cass looked at her. "It's OK, that's D____ and Gin," she said, pulling Cass's arm back into her.

I smiled by way of introduction, was about to say something when the bartender opened the door, saw Gin and me there, and said, "OK, the two of you out of here. You're out."

Nora and Cass were dead quiet, watching. Waiting for him to turn to them. But he didn't come in any further. Just stood there at the door to supervise as we composed ourselves and left. Behind the bartender, looking in, was the middle-aged woman from the bar. She'd seen us head to the woman's room. Gotten him, I guessed.

None of them knew that three feet away from them, on the other side of the bathroom wall, was a big-eyed blonde woman with her hand buried in the cunt of a red-lipped redhead with the newly shaven pattern of a sunset carved into the fine hair above her pussy and a treble clef tattoo inked onto her trembling ankle.

So Gin and I left Maggie's Bar and returned to Nora's apartment. We walked in the door and hell broke loose.

I pushed her back against the wall, pressed against her, kissed her--finally. Pulled her shirt open without unbuttoning it. "I'll get her a new one," I said. Cupped her breasts, held her face, ran the backs of my fingers down from her shoulders and caught her nipples between the second and third fingers of each hand, pinched down and tugged.

She wriggled against me, one hand squeezing my ass to pull me tighter against her, the other between us, holding my cock through my jeans, tugging on it from the base.

She reached up, grabbed the back of my hair, pulled my head down to her, then back, face to the sky. She ran her tongue straight up the underside of my neck to my chin, which she bit. I turned her around, pushed her hair up, bit the back of her neck, her earlobe. Ran my tongue straight up her spine. She turned around again, pulled my mouth to hers, kissed me, softer suddenly. A kiss that felt like Gin looked, all feminine round edges. As it ended, she ran her fingernails straight down my back from my neck, back up again, grabbed my hair once more, pulled my head back and bit my neck.

We edged our way toward the couch, still standing. I unhooked her bra, slid it off her shoulders, followed its path with my tongue. Took her nipple and ring into my mouth, pulled it with my teeth, sucked it in and flicked my tongue over it, moved my head from side to side. She unbuttoned my pants, opened them, wrapped her hand around my cock. I slid my palm down over her belly and pressed it against her pussy from the outside of her pants. Squeezed against the heat, feeling her work her smooth lips against me. Pressed her clit with my middle finger, rubbed, teased, tickled two fingertips against it. Then moved my hand farther between her legs, still on the outside of her thin pants, my palm pressing against her asshole, her riding my forearm.

She still had one hand pulling at my cock, tapping it, grasping it, tugging. I looked up at her with her nipple ring between my teeth and mouthed the words "Bad. Girl."

She cupped my head with her hand, pushed her nipple back into my mouth, ground faster against my forearm. I pressed her back onto the couch, kissed down her belly, squeezed her pussy with my lips through her pants. Raised her legs together and gently pulled her pants over her hips and off of her. There was the new yellow rose tattoo and an absolutely smooth pussy that was just like the rest of Gin, all round edges and feminine curves. My cock ached to sink into her.

I pressed my mouth against her pussy lips, ran the flat of my tongue over her, then quickly sucked her clit into my mouth and went to work. She was vocal and physical, grabbing my hair, squeezing my head with her thighs, lifting her ass off the couch. Then somehow running her hand up my back to the back of my neck, rubbing it and pressing my mouth harder against her, and it was a good twenty seconds before I figured out that that was not her hand, could not be, but was Nora's, Nora who was home and naked already and stroking my neck as I ate out her friend.

Cass was there too, perching herself softly on the couch, legs curled in front of her, and kissing Gin lightly. Cass's skirt had fallen open to reveal a downy coating of light blond hair up and down her legs. Gin ran a thumbnail along Cass's calf as they kissed. I turned up the heat between Gin's legs. Nora licked spiral lines up Gin's thigh, over her hip, up her belly, and sucked her nipple, the unpierced one, into her mouth. After a moment she worked her way higher, first kissing Cass, a lovely, deep kiss, then cradling Gin's face and making out like a teenager. Gin stroked Nora's back, kissed the back of her neck, ran her hand down to her ass. I gave Gina an extended bit of pointed flutter directly on her clit, had her sucked in hard to my mouth, and, with a muffled, throaty release, she pulled both women to her and came, came, came.

Cass took Nora's hand and pulled her to her, laying back as she did. Nora negotiated her way over Gin, who took a couple of nibbles of Nora's lithe body as she passed, cupping a small breast and studying her lean body. I bit Nora's ass, then kissed Gin, who wrapped herself immediately around me, pressing her wetness against my cock. She pushed my pants the rest of the way down with her feet, cupped my ass with her hands, kissed me intimately and intensely.

Then slapped my ass hard--HARD--with her hand. Cracked up. As did Nora and Cass, who were now both naked and tangled together, alternating honey and alabastar limbs, pussies pressed against each other as they kissed.

Nora slapped Cass's ass. Cass slapped Nora's. Nora reached over and slapped mine.

Gin loved it. Laughed, green eyes twinkling. I said "Ok, that's it," in mock sternness, turned Gin over, slapped her once, pressed my cock against her from behind. She wiggled her ass, pushed up to meet me. I pushed down into her, and she exhaled, pushed her head down into the cushion, fucked back up against me. I licked the back of her neck, reached beneath her, tickled her clit. She pushed her hand down between her legs and let my balls hit her fingers as I fucked into her.

I looked up and saw that Cass had gotten up, left the couch. Nora got on her knees, waddled closer to us, and kissed me.

Cass returned. Only now she had a cock. She'd strapped on a prodigious dick and was positioning Nora to fuck her from behind. I lifted Gin's head so she could see what was happening. She watched, took it all in, as Cass pushed the fake dick into Nora. Cass began to sway her round hips in a familiar rhythm that made it clear that she was now doing to Nora what I was doing to Gin.

Gin and Nora moved closer to each other, kissed, kissed again, tangled their arms together, pinched each other's nipples, got lost behind each other's hair. Cass looked at me, and we exchanged a certain look of shared experience as we fucked our respective partners.

Nora started biting the air as she did when she was about to come, and was increasingly vocal--"fuck yeah, there it is, take it from me, oh fuck." Gin started throwing herself back against me, swallowing me up inside her pussy. I met her each time, pushing her back against Nora, whose nipples she was now grasping in a two-finger vice grip.

Nora came, a shaking, scratching, groaning affair. Gin was fucking the daylights out of my cock. I gritted my teeth, and Nora could tell I was close. She quickly extricated herself from Cass's equipment and moved behind me. Stuck her tongue in my asshole, flicked it over my balls, became the "other woman" we'd gotten off talking about so many nights before now.

Cass moved forward and lowered Gin's head onto the strap-on cock, which rose sexily from her downy-haired legs. Gin licked Nora's come and other juices off the cock as I pushed hard into her, all the way in, then hard in again, then, with Nora looking over my shoulder, warm palm cupping my tightening balls, one more deep thrust and I came in profound spasms and countless bursts of heat into Gin's beautiful pussy.




The Summer of Our Content Ch. 01



This is a story about my mother and I and several events that occurred over the course of a few weeks in the summer of 1993. My mother recently passed away, and I felt compelled to put my memories of her down on paper.

After my mother and father divorced in 1989, she moved back to Germany. She was born several years after the end of World War II in the Berlin suburb of Charlottenburg. She had been over there for four years, and I only saw her during the summer months of each year.

I stayed in the United States as I was enrolled in the architecture school at Harvard University. I was 23 years old and just a year from graduation. My father was a prominent Boston attorney who had decided to have his mid-life crisis and entered into a long-term affair with his younger paralegal assistant. I loved my father very much, but was also bitterly disappointed in him for what he had done to our family, particularly to my mother.

My mother, Petra, is 43, tall, dark-haired, classy and culturally sophisticated, in that kind of old European fashion. She was always 'dressed to the nines,' had her hair done well, face made up, and stayed in great shape through exercise and diet. She was an accomplished musician, loved to read books, but her real passion was travel.

My mother had taken me on some of the greatest trips and excursions throughout my childhood and young adult years. It seemed like every summer we were off to some part of the globe in pursuit of adventure. I remember that my father probably only accompanied us about 25% of the time. He was always too busy with work, which was probably just as well as my mother's adventures can't have been cheap.

By the end of my spring semester I was ready for the school year to finish, and I was ready for a trip to see my mother and her family. She had called earlier in the week and told me that a plane ticket was in the mail, and that she had a wonderful summer planned for us. I told her how excited was to see her, and that I had missed her desperately these past few months. I could tell that hearing that from me made her feel happy and needed.

The next couple of weeks flew by, and the next thing I knew I was packing my bags the night before I was to leave. I went out and had a few celebratory beers with friends in honor of the end of the semester and the grades we'd received.

***

The next morning as the sun rose, my 747 was lifting off from Logan International Airport and striking out over the Atlantic for my eight hour flight into Tempelhof Airport in Berlin. I spent much of the time reading fiction and the travel guide to the Greek islands that my mother had included in the package with my plane ticket.

***

Early the next morning I cleared German customs and stepped out into the main concourse of the terminal, and there she was, waving her arms madly. She ran up to me and threw her arms around me and hugged me fiercely, kissing my face non-stop. I dropped my bags and picked her up and held her closely, telling her how much I'd missed her, and loved her.

Finally, I set her down gently and we began to collect my luggage. She held my arm tightly, as though she was afraid I'd get back on a plane and leave.

Mother looked beautiful. She was dressed in a simple, but elegant, dark-blue skirt and long-sleeved white blouse. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and fastened with a cream-colored ribbon. As she was nearly six feet, she had a pair of simple black mules on her feet. 

I held her at arms length, and said, "Mother, my god, you look absolutely radiant!"

She smiled, "Oh, you, it's seeing you that's done it. I have been so looking forward to seeing you ever since after Christmas when you left to go back to school."

"Well, I am back, and we have the whole summer to catch up and get tired of each other," I grinned.

She giggled, "Silly boy, I could never get tired of my baby boy. Maybe you'll get tired of your mother, but I'll never get tired of you."

As we walked out of the terminal, my luggage in tow, I put my arm around her waist and said, "Mother, please believe me, I could never, ever get tired of you. You have always been the bright spot in my life. You were always there for me, and still are. I am so lucky to have you as my mother. Especially when I compare our relationship with some of the horror stories I hear from my friends."

We arrived at her car, an older Mercedes, she opened the trunk and we loaded my gear. She tossed me the keys, "Do you remember how to get to my flat, Eric?" she laughed.

"I think so, mom. Just help me get out of the airport." I replied.

***

The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of activity. We went to museums, art galleries, day trips into East Berlin, picnics in the forested lakes region outside of Berlin. 

The summer weather in Berlin was lovely, mid-70s during the day, but wonderfully cool at night. In July, the sun stays up until nearly 10:00 p.m., a function of the location of Berlin at such a northern latitude.

We went out at night and ate in some of the grandest restaurants in the city, and brunched in the mid-morning in the quaint outdoor cafes in the Charlottenburg district.

Mother's flat was on the second floor of an old multi-family residence constructed at the turn of the century, and had somehow survived the terrible bombing in the closing years of the war. It had remained in her family all of these years, and she had lovingly restored it to its original condition. She had refinished all of the hardwood floors, hung new wallpaper, and filled the rooms with beautiful furniture, bookcases, and plants. Her artistic flair was evident in the paintings on the wall and sculptures on shelves.

She had set me up in one of the spare bedrooms and had given it a masculine flair with the forest green paint and oak paneled wainscoting. A large queen-sized bed occupied the room. It was well lit with a beautiful large window that opened out over the courtyard of her building.

I shared a bathroom with her, with a door from each of our rooms opening into it. Looking back, I realize that it was this situation that changed my life, our lives irrevocably.

***

A couple of days before we were to leave on holiday to the Greek islands, we had gone out for dinner at one of the little outdoor cafes in the neighborhood. We had several after-dinner drinks, espresso, and then strolled around the neighborhood, arm in arm, as twilight passed into night.

We returned to Mother's flat and spread out the maps and guide books, while Mother excitedly shared her plans for our three-week holiday. Most of the time would be spent on the island of Santorini. We pored over the books and planned several interesting day-trips and excursions. 

Mother leaned over my shoulder as I sat in a chair at the dining room table, her large breasts pressing against my back, her long dark hair flicking against my neck as her head moved. I realized that I could smell her clean hair and the light scent of her perfume. I also realized that I was getting an erection!

I looked up at her and said, "Mother, it's been a wonderful day, but I'm tired and I'm going to hit the rack."

"Okay, Baby, I'm tired too, and we have a big day ahead of tomorrow getting ready for our trip. I'm so glad you're here with me, honey, I love you so much!" and with that she leaned over me again and kissed me gently on the lips as she mussed my hair with her hand.

I undressed in my room and headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. After I finished I turned out the lights and crawled into bed and lay there in the dark. I could see the light from mother's bedroom under the closed door separating her room from the bathroom.

The bathroom light snapped on again several minutes later and my mother entered. What I saw took my breath away. She was dressed in a light creamy-colored nightie that was rather diaphanous in the soft light. I could also see her heavy, pendulous, unconfined breasts swaying as she washed her face in front of the mirror. She turned for a towel and I could see the dark, hazy outline of her pubic hair through the nightgown. She brushed her hair several times and then pulled it back into a loose ponytail and held it with an elastic scrunchie.

Mother padded over to my doorway in bare feet, her long legs and body silhouetted in the bathroom light behind her, "Goodnight, honey bear. I love you, Baby. Sleep tight." She said softly.

I didn't respond, letting her think I was asleep. She continued to look at me in the darkened room for a moment and then turned back and went into her room, turning off the light and closing me in darkness.

I couldn't help myself; I flipped the covers back and quickly drew my boxer shorts down my legs and began to stroke my hard cock. All I could think about was the sexy, sensuous body of my mother. God, I felt completely crazy having these kinds of feelings for her, but I couldn't help myself and masturbated furiously. I came in a matter of minutes and squirted several thick spurts of sperm and semen onto my belly and hairy chest. I groaned as I imagined cumming on my mother's big boobs, or inside her wet pussy.

I fell almost instantly into a deep sleep with my sperm drying on my chest.

***

Early the next morning I was awakened by mother sitting on the edge of my bed gently telling me to wake up. She reached over and caressed my unshaven cheek and said, "Wake up, sleepyhead. We have a lot to do today."

I lay in bed with the sheets and blankets covering my waist, but my upper body was exposed to her view. She laid her hand on my hairy chest. All of the sudden I realized that she was feeling the dried cum in my chest hair. I noticed her glancing down to see what was adhered to my hair. She looked at the floor and saw my boxer shorts balled up next to the nightstand.

Not a word passed between us, but I knew that she knew what I had done last night. I began to blush. She leaned over and kissed me and said softly, "Eric, I can't tell you what a handsome young man you've become. Now get up, before I roll you out onto the floor."

After a hot shower and a shave, I felt ready for the day and met mother in the kitchen where we shared some breakfast and coffee.

She took me out and bought me several nice summer suits for our trip, indicating that I needed to look a little classier than blue jeans and golf shirts. We both bought swim suits and other beach togs. I helped mother choose a very simple, but beautiful, one piece turquoise-colored swimsuit. She had been adamant that she'd not be wearing a two-piece, after she'd tried on a couple in the changing room. I told her she was 'nuts,' that she was a gorgeous woman and would look good in a burlap sack.

She playfully punched my arm, "Eric, you just want to see your old mother hanging out all over the place on the beach. Well, it's not gonna happen, my dear!"

"Mom, number one, you're not old; and number two, you are very beautiful, and always will be." I retorted laughingly.

I could tell that she was very pleased with my comments as she took my arm in hers as we made our way to the cashier station and paid for all of our purchases.

***

The next day found us winging south on a flight into Athens and then a small commuter hop out to the island of Santorini in the Aegean Sea. We were met at the airport by a van and staff from our resort hotel. The driver loaded our baggage and we set off for the hotel.

The hotel was located next to the beach, and as we climbed out of the van I could see the clear blue water in sharp contrast to the sandy beach. The hotel grounds were covered with trees and gardens of flowering bushes and plants. It was truly lovely. I looked at mother and could tell that she was excited too.

We checked in and were assigned one of the beach bungalow units. They told us that we were literally yards from the beach and would have all the privacy in the world. It was kind of cute; I could tell that the desk staff thought that we were a married couple. Interestingly, neither mother, nor I, dissuaded them of this notion. We took our keys and followed the bellman down the flagstone path to our unit.

After unpacking our clothes and settling in, I opened a bottle of wine that was in the complimentary fruit basket, poured us each a glass and carried it over to mother.

"Mom, here's to you! For all that you have done for me. I want you to know that I plan on pampering you for the next two weeks. My way of giving back to you," I toasted her.

We clinked glasses, and mother stepped closer to me and bussed me softly on the lips, "Sweetheart, just being here with you is gift enough. We are here to have a good time and spend some time together, just the two of us."

As I looked around our room it suddenly dawned on me, "Mother, we need to contact the staff and have a rollaway bed brought in for me, or get some sheets and blankets for the sofa. There's just the one bed, and that's for you."

"Nonsense, Eric, we'll just have to share, it's a king-sized bed anyhow," she countered.

Mother suggested that we get into our swim suits and head out to the beach and spend the afternoon getting some sun. We changed and grabbed our books, bottled water, and two beach chairs from the bungalow porch and headed off down the beach.

We found a secluded section of beach several hundred yards from our bungalow and set up camp. I noticed that there were just a few other couples scattered up and down the beach, some under umbrellas, others simply lying on towels or blankets.

Mother took off her wrap and stood in front of me in her new suit, and handed me the suntan lotion, "Here, butter me up, otherwise I'll fry."

I squirted the lotion into my hand, rubbed them together and applied it to mother's back, shoulders, neck, and arms. I scooped her hair out of the way and rubbed her upper neck. I dabbed more on my fingertip and carefully spread it on her forehead and face as she tilted her head back with her eyes closed.

I spread the large beach towels out and set our chairs up next to them. Mother sat down on one of the towels and put lotion on her legs, as I sat next to her in one of the chairs.

I looked around, getting the lay of the land, realizing just how beautiful and tranquil the setting was. Behind us was the backdrop of the hotel grounds and trees, the placid ocean in front of us, and the wide, bright sandy beach all about us. It was so quiet, just the sound of the waves breaking on the beach.

As I looked at our closest neighbors, a couple of hundred feet down from us, I noticed that they seemed to be completely nude. Looking more closely at other couples, I realized that everyone was either topless or naked. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'It is Europe, after all.'

I looked down at mother lying next to me on her towel. She had her sunglasses on, but I could tell her eyes were shut as she lay under the sun's rays. Her long legs were lying flat and were slightly parted, her large breasts kind of pillowed out over her chest inside the blue suit. Thinking to myself, 'She is all woman, wonderful, sexy, smart, and I am ever so lucky to have her as my mother.'

I began to develop a seriously hard dick sitting there looking at my mother's sexy body, so I decided to go 'cool off' with a swim in the water. I got up and ambled down to the surf's edge and waded out. When it was at my waist, I leaned forward and plunged in. The water was cool, but certainly not cold. It felt so refreshing that I ended up spending about twenty minutes swimming and floating about.

As I emerged from the waves, I noticed that the current had carried me down a few hundred feet. I walked back up the beach along the strand, the warm air drying the salt water on my body. I passed a few couples stretched out soaking up the sun. I noticed one nude couple as I drew closer, the woman was lying next to her man and lazily stroking his erect cock. She was lying on her side and slowly stroking his large penis and periodically fondling his balls. She smiled at me as I passed. The man was flat on his back and had his eyes closed as he enjoyed the caresses of his woman.

By the time I reached mother I was sporting another hardon. Mother looked up at me as I reached her.

"My God, Eric, whatever caused that?" she giggled and pointed at my crotch.

"Oh, mother, stop it. I can't help it, there are naked people all over out here," I sighed.

"Well, honey, get used to it. The Greek islands are well known for their nude beaches, and anything goes behavior," she told me.

I thought for a moment and then replied, "I know, but it means that I'll be spending a hell of a lot of time in the water cooling my ardor."

She rolled over on her side and propped her head in her hand and looking up at me she laughed at my innuendo, and used some of her own, "Oh, baby, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

I laughed hard and reached down and gave her playful push. She fell back on her back giggling hysterically.

What she did surprised the hell out of me. She reached up and brought the straps of her suit down and rolled the top half of suit down to her belly and exposed her large, full breasts to me.

"There," she said, "is that better? Now you don't have to look so far to steal a peek!" she laughed.

"Mom, what are doing? You can't do that in front of me, or all of these people!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, honey, just relax. Its no big deal, I'm just getting some sun." she laughed.

I looked down at her and took in the sight of my mother's pale-skinned boobs and dark brown, large nipples. I told her, "You better get some lotion on those," pointing at her breasts, "before they get burned. It doesn't look like they get out in the sun all that much, mom."

Tipping up her sunglasses, she boldly looked up at me, "Yep, you're right. You sure you don't want to do it for me?"

"Yeah, right!" I replied sotto voce.

All of the sudden the tube of lotion bounced off of my bare chest and fell into my lap and mother looked up at me expectantly, with a sly, sardonic grin on her face.

She leaned back on her elbows, "Okay, big boy, you said that you'd take care of mother for two weeks. So, start taking care of me. Come on, I don't bite." 

I knelt on the towel next to mother, unscrewed the lotion cap and squeezed some into my hand. I looked at her tentatively.

"Go ahead, darling. Its alright, you won't hurt me," she said softly.

I looked into her eyes, "I know, Mom, I know, but..."

I reached down and began spreading the lotion across her breasts. It felt so incredible to be touching my mother's flesh like this. Somehow it felt so much different than when I had rubbed the lotion on her back or shoulders. I was touching my mother's breasts, the large, full and soft breasts that fed me so many years ago as a baby.

I rubbed the lotion into her skin, feeling her nipples harden as I rubbed them. I rubbed under her breasts finding the creases where her breasts joined her chest. Her breasts jiggled under my touch. I could barely stand to let go of them as I finished applying the lotion.

Mother softly sighed as I completed my task and leaned back on my heels next to her. She dropped her sunglasses back down over her eyes and cocked her head at me, "Eric, make yourself comfortable. Take off your shorts and enjoy the sun with me."

"Oh, mother, that's probably not such a good idea right now." I replied.

She laughed, "Oh, I see. Okay, I have an idea; go up to the cabana and get us a couple of cold 'punchy-type' drinks. You should be calmed down by the time you get back, Baby."

I could tell that mom was getting a lot of pleasure out of my obvious discomfort at the whole situation.

I grabbed my wallet, tank-top and sandals and headed off for the booze.

***

I returned in twenty minutes and found that mother had rolled over on her back and had completely removed her bathing suit. My mother was completely nude on her towel.




The Summer of Our Content Ch. 01



She rose up on her elbows as I walked up, her breasts hanging down, the dark nipples obscured in the toweling.

I squatted down and gave her the rum punch drink. She took a sip through the straw, "Mmmm, that's good! Thanks, honey!"

I set my drink in the shade of my chair and stood up next to her. I untied the drawstring of my shorts and slid them down my legs.

She watched me as I hooked the shorts up off of the sand with my foot and folded them neatly and placed them on top of her suit.

"My, my," she said softly, "aren't you a good-looking young man." Even behind the glasses I could tell that she was gazing at my body in a distinctly un-motherly fashion.

I stood in front of my mother naked, my tumescent penis swinging back and forth as I moved. My hairy balls hanging low in my scrotum because of the heat. I am uncircumcised, but the head of my dick was half-exposed, the foreskin slipped back.

I lay down on my side on my towel next to her and sipped my drink. We didn't say anything, but clinked the plastic drink glasses together, "Well, here's to nudism with my mom!" I said with a grin.

After I finished my drink I rubbed lotion on my hips and crotch area, as I certainly not ever had that part of my body exposed before. Mom watched me as I rubbed the cream in. I told her that I sure as hell didn't want to get burned in certain spots.

We lay there and talked for a while. We talked about school, what my plans were after school, and my social life. I told mom that at the time I did not have a girl friend, and that I was just sort of playing the field.

Mom reached over and encircled my flaccid penis with her hand and gently squeezed it, saying, with a twinkle in her eye, "Well, Eric, with this thing you surely will not be hard pressed keeping a woman happy when you finally do find her."

She didn't let go and my dick began to harden in her hand. Her index finger moved up and she gently skinned back a portion of my foreskin and ran the tip of her finger over the head of my cock. Her other fingers were squeezing and kneading my hardening column of cock-flesh. 

She moved her hand down and took my hairy scrotum and balls in her hand. She rolled each testicle back and forth in her fingers. 

She looked at me and said in a husky voice, "Baby, you have a beautiful sex organ. You are very well endowed. You know that don't you?"

"Mmmm, Mom, I don't know. I never really thought about it before." I replied with a touch of trepidation as my mother continued to fondle and caress my completely erect cock.

"Eric, is this okay? Can I touch your penis like this? Are you uncomfortable with me doing this?" she asked.

"Mmmm, no, Mother...its just that I'm afraid..." I mumbled.

"Of what, baby?" 

"Ohh, god, that feels so good, mom! Mmmm, but we're out here in front of other people...Mmmm, mother...I'm gonna cum...oh, mom, ohh, god!" I cried.

With that I began to ejaculate strong spurts of sperm and semen onto the towel between us. Some of my cum spattered my mother's belly and chest. The creamy opalescent sperm left long linear streaks on the dark toweling. She jacked the shaft of my cock vigorously as my hips bucked back and forth with my orgasm. 

Her hand was covered with cum as she masturbated my slick, still oozing cock. She ran her slippery hands up and down the shaft and onto my hair covered balls. Finally, she released my shaft and reached up and smeared the sperm I'd shot onto her belly and breasts into her skin.

My entire body was quivering at what had just happened. My mother, my own mother had just masturbated me to an orgasm on the beach, in broad daylight! Oh, god, my heart was racing; my thoughts were all jumbled as I tried to figure out how I was supposed to feel.

As I lay back on the towel panting, mother just leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. As my lips responded her kiss became more urgent and she pressed harder, her tongue sliding into my mouth. I raised my hand and captured the back of her head and pulled her to me and kissed her passionately.

I knew it then! I knew that my relationship with my mother – Petra - would never, ever be the same. We were embarking on something completely new, completely unknown. But we were sailing this vessel together, we would explore our new life together, every step of the way.

I groaned into her mouth as she continued to kiss me, "Mother, I love you!"

She rose up for a moment, "I know, Baby, I know. I love you too!"

Her breasts were squashed up against my rib cage and hairy chest as she moved closer to me and we resumed kissing. She was lying on top of the sperm-soaked section of towel that I had just finished ejaculating on. The thought of my mother lying on my sperm and semen made me nearly crazy with lust.

I ran my hands up and down my mother's oily back, caressing her waist and ass cheeks as we continued to kiss. She responded my running her fingers down through my chest hair and into my sweaty crotch and finding my stiffening organ. She palmed and manipulated my cock between our bodies, squeezing and pulling my balls.

"Eric, my darling, my darling lover, I want to taste you. I want to suck your cock. Will you let your mother suck your beautiful cock, Baby?" she moaned.

"Oh, god, yes, Mother, yes, mother, suck me, suck my cock!" I groaned.

She kissed her way down my chest her fingers fluttering and exploring every inch of my hot, sweaty body until her head and face reached my belly. She rested her head on my quivering belly and began to stroke the shaft of my penis in her hand, the foreskin slipping up and down over the purple head of my cock.

I rose up on my elbows so that I could watch her ministrations. She squeezed the shaft, letting her fingertips explore the ridges and veins. She skinned back the foreskin and ran her fingers over the head and corona, ran a finger around the flange of the swollen glans.

Then, in front of my eyes, my mother leaned forward and slowly began to suck my cock into her mouth. I watched one, then two, then three inches of my cock disappear into her mouth. 

Mother moaned as she swallowed my cock. Her lips moved and stretched as she took more of the shaft deeply into her throat. She began to move her mouth up and down, taking more of my organ into her mouth and throat with each downstroke.

I groaned loudly, and fell back onto my towel as my mother skillfully fellated me. As she sucked me, her left hand cupped my balls and scrotum and lower shaft, while her right hand stroked and rubbed my hairy belly and chest. I could hear the sound of her wet mouth and lips sucking as she moved up and down my cock.

My loins were afire with the feel of her warm, slick mouth sucking and licking me. She began licking and tonguing the shaft of my cock and kissing the purple swollen head. She rubbed the erect shaft against her sweaty, saliva-covered face, as she lowered her head into my crotch and took my entire ball-sack into her mouth. I could feel her tongue exploring my testicles as her lips tugged and pulled on my scrotum.

"Mmmm, mother, that feels so good! Suck my balls, mom." I moaned.

She sucked and rolled my balls around in her hot, wet mouth, my erect cock throbbing in her hand as she slowly jacked the shaft up and down.

She let my balls fall out of her mouth and she kissed her way up from the root of my shaft until she could maneuver the stiff cock back into her mouth and throat. She swallowed me completely into her throat until her lips were pressed into my spit-soaked pubic hair at the base of dick. I reached down and held her head and hair gently as she began to move slowly up and down the penis in her throat.

After a couple more minutes of my mother's talented deep-throating, I groaned that I was going to cum again.

"She raised up, turned her head slightly and looked at me. I knew what she was 'telling' me. My mother was telling me to flood her mouth with my seed, with her son's sperm and semen.

I couldn't help it; I couldn't have stopped anymore than I could stop a run-away train. My cock throbbed, my balls tightened up, and I felt the orgasm deep in my loins. The sperm shot out of my cock into her mouth in several strong pulses. She groaned as the first jet filled her mouth, and if anything, she sucked harder. I watched as her mouth and lips trapped the cum and she began swallowing repeatedly. 

I almost passed out at the sheer sensuousness of the scene – My mother had sucked me to an orgasm and swallowed every drop of my cum!

She sucked and nursed on my spasming cock until there was nothing left. She ran her lips and tongue up and down the shaft, licking up the last traces of my sperm and semen. She then gently laid my reddened and still swollen cock onto my thigh and lay back next to me with a sigh and dreamy look on her face. 

I leaned over my mother, blocking the sun from her eyes, and told her that I loved her so much. Then I leaned in and kissed her deeply, my tongue exploring her mouth tasting the rich flavor of my sperm in her mouth and on her lips. It was deeply erotic to kiss my mother like this, knowing that it was my seed in her mouth that I was tasting.

***

I kissed her again, and then moved down until I could take each of her large breasts in my hands and began to lick and suck her swollen and erect nipples. Mom moaned as her suckled at her breasts and teased her nipples with my tongue, while pinching the other gently between my fingers. I marveled at the beauty and sexuality of this woman – my mother.

I kissed my way down her oily and sweaty belly, licking the salty sweat from her skin, flicking my tongue in and out of her belly button, causing her to giggle, her tummy flexing and rippling with the effort.

By now my nostrils were assailed with the heady, sexy aroma of my mother's cunt. For the first time I was now able to really study my mother's sex. Mom had lots of hair covering her mound, dark, nearly black hair. She made no effort to trim or shave her bush and it covered the junction of her thighs and crotch. But the memory that stands out to this day was the smell of her wet pussy.

I could tell that she was very aroused, her belly rolled and bucked under my kisses as I moved down to her crotch. I dragged my lips across her hairy mound, tasting the slightly salty sweat of her juices. Mother moaned as I brought my fingers up to her crotch and gently explored her hair covered slit and labia.

I separated her slit and ran the tip of my forefinger up and down each side of her pussy lips, feeling the soft slick skin. I ran the tip of my finger in a circle around her clitoris, causing Mother to groan in a low husky voice. I continued circling her partial hidden clit until it began to erect and protrude from the top of her wet slit.

I leaned forward and captured her clitoris in my lips and gently massaged it with the tip of my tongue and lips. She squealed and bucked her pelvis under me. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that she was clenching the towel on either side of her body in her hands.

I moved down between mother's spread legs, and lowered my head between her thighs. I leaned forward and kissed my mother's sex and looking up at her, across her tummy, told her that I loved her ever so much. In response, she reached down with one hand and caressed my cheek and ran her fingers through my hair.

I lowered my face into her crotch again and began to lick and suck her pussy. I slowly pushed my tongue deeper into her slick hole, swirling the tip from side-to-side, and up and down. I licked up to her clitoris, circling it and then back down into her slit. God, she tasted so good! Her juices were flowing, mixed with my saliva, coating my chin, lips, and cheeks. I pushed my face deeper into her wetness, separating her cunt lips with my mouth as I fucked her pussy with my tongue and lips.

Mother was continuously writhing and moaning as I ate her pussy. Even as I licked and tongued my mother's sex, I was running my hands up and down her belly, cupping and squeezing her boobs, squeezing and kneading the sides of her beautiful ass. I completely lost track of where we were. All I knew was that I was consumed with an overpowering incestuous lust for this woman's cunt! I wanted to make her cum. I wanted to feel her orgasm from my mouth in her pussy.

All of the sudden I could tell that she was close to cumming. Her entire body began to tense up. Her belly quivered and spasmed under my hands. Both of her hands were now clutching the side of my head and forcing my face and mouth deeper into her spread cunt lips as I licked her up and down. 

She hissed, "Yes, darling, suck me! Lick me!"

At that she began to cum. She arched her back and thrust her pelvis up into my face, and at the same time she pressed my face deep into her crotch as I licked and sucked her clitoris. She began to groan more loudly, interspersed with gasps of, "Oh, yes!"

"Oh, god, yes! Ohh, yes, yes, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Ohhh, god, yes! Mmmm, make me cum, Mmmm..."

I reached up and captured each of her heaving breasts and squeezed and pinched her swollen nipples in my fingers as she orgasmed. She just thrashed and moaned as I continued sucking her cunt and pulling her nipples.

Finally, she relaxed and her shuddering body dropped back flat on to the towel. She held my head still in her crotch, and softly told me, "Mmmm, easy, darling, I'm so sensitive, Mmmm..."

I turned my head and gave the inside of each of her thighs a loving kiss, then kissed the top of her hairy mons, and then slid up next to her on the towel and kissed her full on the lips. I knew that she could taste her sweet juices on my lips as she kissed me back.

I lay back in the warm sun next to my nude mother and basked in the joy of the moment. I think both of us were overcome with emotion at what had just occurred in the span of fifteen minutes. 

I said softly, "Mom, I don't feel bad about what just happened. I really don't. I think that it was inevitable; it was bound to happen sooner or later between us. I have always loved you, and have tried for so many years to reconcile the feelings and emotions that always sprang up inside of me when I was around you. All I can say is that I Love You, Mother."

She rolled over, facing me, and put a finger to my lips, "I know, me too. I think you are right, this was fated to be. I want you to know that I don't regret anything either. This has been the most fantastic and loving sex I've ever experienced, and that's because of our love for one another; your love for me, and mine for you, honey."

She continued, "Darling, I want you inside me now. But...but, I don't want to do it out here on the beach. I want you to take me back to our bungalow and make proper love to your mother. I want to scream as I feel my son's hard cock slip inside my pussy."

She looked at me, her dark eyes flashing and filling with tears of happiness, as she leaned down and kissed me.

***

I closed the door behind us and dropped all of beach stuff in the corner; all I could think about was what Mother had said to me moments ago. She wanted to make love to me.

She turned and faced me as she brought the straps to her suit down off of her shoulders and slowly rolled the spandex down her beautiful body. I watched her as she stepped out of the suit and moved toward the bathroom.

"Give me a moment, dearest," she said, "I'm going to take a shower, and then you are too. We don't want our first to be all sandy and oily."

"You don't want me to join you, Mom?" I asked.

"Nope, because if you did, we'd never make it to the bed, and I want this to be very memorable for both of us – Very memorable," she said with a twinkle in her eye as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

I heard the shower start, as I opened the small refrigerator and removed the bottle of wine that I'd opened earlier. I poured two glasses and left them on the nightstand next to the bed. 

I took off my shorts and looked at myself nude in the full length mirror hanging on the wall next to the bed. I'd never really done this before, but I realized I was shaping up to be a good looking young man. I was tall, dark-skinned, moderate body hair, and a nice-sized dick, I guessed. But somehow I thought I looked different. 

I think it was then that I realized that I was a very, very special young man. Here I was; a young man that was experiencing a loving sexual relationship with his mother. This wasn't the 'incest' of the internet; this was a love that only a very special mother and son could feel.

"Eric," she said softly.

I hadn't even heard her come out of the shower. I turned and faced her. Mom was wrapped in a big white fuzzy towel and had a smaller one turbaned on her head. God, she was gorgeous, I thought to myself.

I smiled at her and followed her finger with my eyes as she pointed to the bathroom. I went over and picked up her wineglass, handed it to her, and headed off without saying a word, still lost in my own introspection.

***

After the quickest shower in human history, I toweled off and rejoined mom in the suite. She had turned the covers back on the bed and was leaning against a pile of pillows at the head of the bed. She was naked, her hair pulled back in her typically careless ponytail. She was sipping her wine as she watched me walk across the room.

"Lose the towel, big fella," she giggled.

I took a drink of my wine, set the glass down, and did a little twirl for her. I turned my back to her and unfastened the towel, holding it closed with my hand. I turned around to face her and walked over next to her side of the bed. I looked down at her smiling, and then dropped the towel.

Mother made a little sound as she gazed at my stiffening cock as it began to erect. She patted the bed next to her and said mischievously, "Come here, darling. Come here, my beautiful man." 

I leaned forward putting my hands on the bed next to her as I climbed on, my rock-hard cock bobbing and balls swinging as I moved onto the bed. I lay on my side looking at my beautiful sexy mother. I couldn't believe what was happening to both of us, and how natural it felt. I had no qualms or guilt over what I was about to do.

I kissed mother tenderly on the lips and ran my hand up and down her flank and waist. She cooed at my touch, and reached over and rubbed my chest, her fingers in my hair. We were like a couple of teenagers, lying on a bed and exploring each other's bodies for the first time.

She reached down and grasped my hard dick in her hand, "Mmmm, honey, you have such a beautiful, big dick!" She jacked the skin back and forth, sliding my foreskin up and down over the head.

"I am so glad that I didn't have you circumcised, Eric. I have always loved an uncut dick, they are so sexy looking!" she said as she pulled and played with the foreskin.

She continued, "You know your father wanted to have you circumcised, but I just couldn't." 

She paused for a moment, "You know I think I fell in love with uncut dicks when I saw my father's one time when I was a girl."

She fondled my balls and lightly scratched the shaft of my cock with her nails, "But, baby, you need to know that his cock wasn't as big as this one," as she waggled my hard column of flesh back and forth.

She reached down again and felt my balls, rolling them in her fingers, squeezing and tugging on the hairy scrotum. "You have nice big balls, sweetie. Are they full of cum for me," she giggled as she fondled my nuts.

"Mmmm, mother, yes, my balls are so full of cum for you. Mmmm, that feels so good, you touching my cock and balls, Mom." I groaned as she continued caressing my sex.

I reached over and began to feel my mother's breasts and nipples. Her nipples erected at my touch, standing up from the dark brown areoles. I took each nipple in my fingers; squeezing and rolling the stiff flesh, making her squirm and moan with pleasure.




The Summer of Our Content Ch. 01



She purred, "Oh, honey, I love it when you touch me like that. I love having my boobs and nipples played with and touched."

I loved the feel and weight of her large breasts. As she lay on her back next to me, her breasts were so large that they spilled over the side of her ribs. Looking at her chest, I realized that it was these breasts that had nourished and nurtured me as an infant. I leaned down and kissed each nipple, before sucking them into my mouth, circling the nipples with my tongue. Mom held my face to her chest as I sucked and kissed her nipples and boobs.

At the same time I ran my hand down her belly and into the forest of her thick pubic hair. I slid my fingers into her wet slit and stroked her clitoris and labia. Mom was wet, slick and oily with her juices of desire. I rubbed and stroked her hairy mound, slit, and clitoris. She rotated and bucked her crotch against my hand and fingers.

"Get on top of me, Eric," she said softly into my ear.

We looked each other in the eye for a moment, and then I leaned down and kissed my mother on the mouth, our tongues coming together. We moaned into each other's mouths as we kissed.

I moved over on top of her nude body, my hard dick coming to rest on top of her belly throbbed as it contacted her skin.

She reached down between us and grasped my erect organ and stroked the skin of the shaft up and down a few times. I moved further down between her legs until Mom was able to position the head of my cock into her cunt slit. She rubbed the rubbery head of my dick against her clit and labia. I could feel her wet juices coating the head making it move slickly back and forth against her lips.

She reached up with her right hand and pulled my head to her face. She kissed me, her tongue licking my lips and chin as she whispered, "Fuck me, Eric. Push your cock into me. Fuck me, Eric. I want to feel you inside me now! Look at me, into my eyes as you slide into me, lover!"

I pushed my pelvis forward and felt the head of my cock slide into my mother's wet sex. 

Oh, God, what a feeling, being enveloped by her slick, wet velvet hole. Her warmth and wetness surrounded my shaft as it sank, inch by inch, deeper into my mother's womanhood, my mother's cunt. Time stopped for me at that moment.

I slowly pushed another inch of my cock into her as she groaned deeply. I couldn't believe how tight and wonderful she felt as I entered her. I pulled back an inch or so, and then sank back into my mother's wetness. My cock was now fully buried inside mom's pussy; our pubic hair was meshed, my swollen balls resting against her ass cheeks. I was completely inside my mother's cunt.

We were both groaning from the experience. I leaned down and kissed her, even as I pushed myself more fully into her, grinding my pubic bone against her hairy mound and clitoris. I began to move my penis in and out of her very slowly at first.

Mom pushed her pelvis up to meet me as I sank into her wet, tight depths. She slid her hands down my back and clutched my ass cheeks and pulled me more fully into her crotch. Her legs rose up and she wrapped them around my buttocks and thighs.

I began to screw her more passionately, "Oh, my god, mom, you feel so good. I am fucking you! I am fucking you, mom!"

"Yes, yes, honey, fuck me, fuck me!" she moaned.

I looked over to the side and viewed us in the large closet door mirror. We were so beautiful to watch. It was like being a voyeur and seeing a son fucking his mother through a window. It was the incest that inflamed me the most; I was balls-deep inside my mother's cunt and making sweet love to the woman I loved the most.

After a few minutes we found our mutual rhythm and began to move with one another. My hips and pelvis moved up and down, sliding my cock in and out of mom's cunt slit. She responded by tilting her pelvis up to meet my down-stroke. She gasped each time my pubic bone and pubic hair pressed up against her mons.

We never said a word as we fucked, just groaning, moaning, and gasping as we completely surrendered ourselves to our incestuous lust and passion. All I could think about, all I could feel, was my long, hard cock sliding in and out of the same female passage that gave birth to me twenty-four years ago. 

My cock throbbed with pleasure as I slid in and out of her cunt, the foreskin rolling back on the down-stroke, and sheathing the head of my dick as I pulled out. I felt my balls tightening up around the hairy root of my cock.

I rested my weight on one hand, and took the slippery, wet shaft of my cock in my other hand and rubbed the swollen purple head of my dick back and forth across mom's clit. She groaned with pleasure and clutched my hips to her tightly.

"Oh, Eric, yes, god, yes, that feels so good, honey. Put your dick back inside me, honey. Fuck me, honey, fuck me hard now!" she moaned.

I slipped the tip of my dick between her labia, rubbing it up and down her slit, and then slowly sank back into her hot, wet pussy. I began to move in and out more rapidly. Mom bucked and writhed below me as I hammered my cock in and out her cunt. She reached around below my ass and grabbed my scrotum, squeezing and massaging my cum-filled balls.

I knew that I wasn't going to last much longer, and neither was mom. She began to gasp and moan almost continuously. She clutched and squeezed my balls as I drove my dick into her time and time again. The wet sounds of our joined sex organs, the slapping of my belly against her, the pounding of my thighs into her ass cheeks as we fucked each other ferociously.

I groaned, "Mom, I'm going to cum soon! Can I cum inside you? Do you want me to pull out, Mom?"

"Mmmm, no, darling, no, no, stay inside me! Cum in me, cum in me, Eric!" she screamed.

All of the sudden she began to shake and shudder. Her eyes closed as she pulled me tightly to her body. Her heels dug into my thighs and she began to kick me like she had spurs on. The headboard of our bed began to tap gently against the wall reflecting the rhythm of my thrusts into her body.

"Oh, my god, baby, yes, oh, god, I'm cumming, Eric! I'm cumming! Oh, yes, fuck me harder, faster, Mmmm," she cried.

Even as mom began to cum, I felt the crescendo of my orgasm beginning. The sperm and semen leapt into my thrusting cock and squirted deep into the very depths of my mother's womb. It felt as though my entire heart and soul was being transported the length of my spurting cock and planted back in the warm, wet womb of the woman that bore me.

I could feel the wetness and slipperiness of my seed surrounding my throbbing cock as I hammered her cunt. The sweat poured off of my face and chest, dripping down onto my mom's face and breasts. Her face and chest were flushed a deep red with her sexual exertions, her dark hair fanned out on the below in rippling waves as she threw her head back and forth with her orgasm.

My cum was leaking out her cunt and bathing our pubic hair and running down my balls. I could hear the squishing wet sound of my organ sliding in and out her spasming pussy.

As our orgasms subsided, I lowered my sweaty body down on top of mother's and kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, and then her wet lips. My dick thumped and throbbed, still lodged deep inside her wetness.

I looked again into the mirror and saw two well-satiated lovers melded together as one, our skin shining in the late afternoon light from the sweat that covered us from head to toe.

I nuzzled her sweaty neck and breathed, "Mom, I love you! I love you so much! Thank you, my dearest, Mother, thank you!"

She just replied, "Mmmm..." before she cuddled up to me more closely.

***

After a nap of several hours, and a hot shower, Mom and I decided to dress up and have a nice dinner in the hotel restaurant. I wore my new light-colored summer suit and Mother wore a beautifully simple white sleeveless dress and sandals. She looked absolutely gorgeous and I told her so.

She kissed me on the lips; we linked arms and headed out the door. It was nearly dark outside, with a reddish glow on the western horizon marking the setting sun. I could smell the blossoming flowers mixed with the light scent of my mother's perfume as we walked.

We were seated at a table by the large picture window overlooking the beach. I ordered a bottle of wine for us as we looked at the menu. We ordered our food when the waiter returned with the wine and glasses.

I raised my glass, "Mother, my heart, my soul, I love you!" I leaned forward and clinked my glass to hers as she smiled at me.

We enjoyed the meal and wine and made small talk. I told her that I was giving serious thought to permanently relocating to Berlin and finishing my architecture degree at one of the good schools near her. She told me to think about it some more, and not make a hasty decision.

"However, darling, I would be so thrilled to have you with me day in and day out," she added with a twinkle in her eye.

We enjoyed a cognac and coffee and just relaxed in each other's company. I heard music coming from next door in the resort's lounge. I asked mom if she'd like to hear some music for a bit. We finished the coffee and took the cognac with us.

It was much darker and more intimate in the lounge. A small jazz band was playing on a small stage. Several couples were dancing on the hardwood floor. Double French-doors leading from the lounge out to the patio were wide open letting in a nice cooling breeze off of the ocean.

We sat in one of the booths listening to the music. Mom sat next to me, her warm thigh pressed up against mine, her hand held mine under the table. We sipped our drinks and watched the couples dancing.

I noticed one couple, who looked to be in their late-forties or early-fifties. He was nearly as tall as I, salt and pepper hair, and a mustache. His companion was strikingly beautiful. She had dark hair but with a broad white streak of hair on the left side. She was also quite tall, nearly as tall as he. She had a large bosom that was half-exposed and jiggled in the low cut dress that she wore. They moved well together on the dance floor. 

I nodded toward them, and asked Mom, "They really dance well, don't they? It looks to me like they have been together for a long time."

"Mmmm, I see what you mean. They move together so well," she replied.

The band started another song and I grabbed mom's hand, "Come on, Mom, let's have some fun." 

I pulled her to her feet and we moved out onto the floor. I took her into my arms and held her close as we danced. I smelled her clean hair and perfume as we moved to and fro across the floor. Feeling her warm sensual body next to mine, and remembering all that had happened to us earlier in the day, I began to develop a serious erection.

Mom must have felt my hardon because she looked up into my eyes and asked, "Honey, is that for me, or are you thinking about some other woman out here?"

I chuckled, "You know better than that, Mom. There isn't any woman who could hold a candle to you. This is all because of you, and because I am holding you in my arms right now."

After several more dances, we were hot and tired. Mom asked that we go out on the patio and rest for a while. We went out and the couple we'd noticed earlier was sitting at the large table on the patio.

I asked if we could join them. The man waved his hand and indicated that they'd be delighted if we joined them.

Mom and I introduced ourselves. The man introduced the woman as Sophie, and that he was Martin. He stated that they were from a small town outside of Bucharest, Romania.

I told him that he spoke excellent English. He replied that he'd been educated in both the United States and England. Sophie's English was a bit more stilted, but she was talkative and interesting to listen to.

We found out that they were on holiday, like us, and were exploring some of the older historic sites on the island during day trips.

"That sounds like fun. Can you recommend some good trips for us? We just arrived this morning and have two weeks to look around," I asked.

Martin responded, "Of course. In fact, if you'd like; why don't you accompany us tomorrow. We have rented a small minibus and are planning to drive to the north side of the island."

I looked at mom and queried her with my eyes.

She smiled and said, "Thank you, Martin, Sophie; we'd be delighted to join you if you don't mind. I'll tell you what; I will call the kitchen tonight and have them pack a picnic lunch for us all. My treat!"

Sophie clapped her hands and said, "Wonderful!"

With our plans made and meeting time agreed upon, we stood and bid them both good night and walked back to our bungalow.

***

I made slow sweet love to my mother for nearly an hour before we fell asleep in each other's arms, with my cock still embedded deep inside my mother's cunt.

*** Just after sunup we met Martin and Sophie in the parking lot. The resort staff brought out a picnic basket and large cooler of cold drinks for us. We loaded up the Range Rover, climbed in, and headed off on our tour.

We drove for an hour or so, climbing up on the rim of the collapsed caldera that ringed Santorini and stopped and took some 'turista' pictures. It was turning out to be a gorgeous morning; the bright blue cloudless sky contrasting wonderfully with the small whitewashed buildings in the little hamlets we passed through. The place fairly reeked of history as there were old ruins all about. Small terraced vineyards and gardens dotted the hillsides.

Mother and I rode in the back seat, holding hands and sharing our unrequited passion with gentle squeezes and caresses. She had on a beautiful flowery summer dress, with leather sandals. She had pulled her hair back into a bun so that she could wear her white straw hat. God, she looked so beautiful sitting there next to me.

I was dressed in a white t-shirt, baggy cargo shorts, and Teva sandals. I had my Boston Red Sox cap on with a pair of Vuarnet sunglasses. Occasionally mother would rest her hand on my thigh, close to my crotch, and my cock would stiffen under her touch. She surreptitiously rubbed the shaft with her fingers, or scratched it with her nails. Once she even traced her fingertips around the swollen corona and glans as my dick hardened down one leg of my shorts. We were careful that Martin and Sophie were not able to see her movements though.

During the course of the drive we found out that Sophie was actually Martin's older sister, and that her husband had passed away several years ago. Martin had never married and was now providing his sister and her children with a place to live and financial security. Apparently, he had done very well with businesses in investments and banking in Romania and throughout Eastern Europe. Still we did not tell them that we were mother and son

Finally, about mid-morning we stopped at a very isolated stretch of beach separated from the road by a large series of tall sand dunes. We pulled off the road and unloaded the gear. Martin and I made a couple of trips back and forth to get the umbrellas, blankets, towels, and food and drinks down to the beach where we decided to spend the day.

I stood next to the water's edge and looked up and down the beach noticing that there was no one in sight in either direction. We had this place completely to ourselves. My heart quickened at the thought of what might occur. It just depended on Mom, Martin, and Sophie.

I went back up to our campsite and helped mom lay out the blanket. Martin had planted an umbrella above each of the blankets to provide some shade from the hot, bright sun. We placed the foodstuffs and cold drinks in the shade and set up the beach chairs too.

"Hey, does anyone want a glass of wine?" I asked.

Sophie and mom both responded that that sounded nice, and Martin asked for a beer. I made the drinks and passed them around.

Martin raised his bottle, "Here's to our new friends, and to a wonderful new day!"

With that Martin set his bottle down on the cooler top and undid his shorts and dropped them to his ankles. He stood in front of the three of us bottomless. Martin penis was large and very thick. He too, was uncut, the head completely covered by his foreskin. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and was now nude. His chest was covered with dark hair interspersed with gray. He really was a handsome middle-aged man. I could tell that mom was giving him little sideways glances.

Sophie was next and casually stripped off her clothes. Sophie was a beautiful woman, perhaps ten years older than mother. Her boobs, not as large as mom's, but still full, sagged on her chest. She had spectacular thick long nipples. Her hairy bush was thick, curly, and black, unlike the salt and peppered hair on her head.

I looked at mom, shrugged my shoulders – 'when in Rome, do as the Romans' – and peeled off my clothes too. Mom was not far behind me, as she simply pulled her sundress up and over her head and stood before us nude except for her bra, which she quickly reached behind and unsnapped. Her beautiful large breasts swung and jiggled as she bent over and neatly folded her dress.

Several seconds passed as we all kind of looked at each other's bodies, and then we took our drinks and reclined next to one another on the blanket enjoying the sun and warm air.

Sophie took a tube of sunscreen and began applying it to Martin's shoulders, chest and thighs. When she was done, he took the cream and did the same for her. It was incredibly erotic to watch him gently massage the cream into his sister's skin. He slowly rubbed her boobs and belly, his oily fingers glided down and through her hairy pubic patch. She leaned back and spread her legs a little wider, allowing Martin to oil her thighs.

Mom didn't say a word, but took the sunscreen from Sophie and begin to put it on me. Her hands roamed up and down my hairy chest. She tweaked my nipples with her greasy fingers, bringing a low groan from me. She put more oil in her hands, rubbed them together briefly, and then took my cock and balls in her hands and oiled them up. By now I had a throbbing erection. Much of my hardness was a direct result of mother's touches, but also was due to looking at Sophie's naked, sexy body next to me, glistening in the sun.

Mom lay next to me and began to slowly masturbate my cock with her hand. The sensation of mom jacking me off next to Martin and Sophie was almost indescribable. I looked over at them; they were eagerly watching as mom fondled my cock and balls.

Sophie softly asked, "Petra, he is your son, isn't he? You are stroking your son's cock aren't you?"

Mom froze for a moment, and then raising her eyes to meet Sophie and Martin's she replied, "Yes, Eric is my son. Do you think me a terrible mother?"

"No, Petra, we don't. We thought that this was the case after we met you in the bar last night. He looks like you, and we could tell that you both love each other so much," Sophie said understandingly.

Sophie continued, "We want you to know that Martin and I understand your love for Eric intimately. Although I was married for nearly 20 years, Martin and I have been lovers always. We first started the summer he left for college. I had been married for a year at the time and he came and spent the summer with my husband and me."

"My husband was not a nice man; he never was, and Martin was there for me when I really needed a shoulder to cry on. One thing led to another, and after a couple of months I became pregnant with my brother's child. At the time we weren't sure if it was Martin's baby, but several years later we found out that my husband was sterile and couldn't father children. Of course, he accused me of sleeping around, but he wouldn't grant me a divorce."

"So for seventeen long years I lived in the same house with my husband, but only took my brother into my bed. Martin and I have a son and a daughter, both of whom are now grown and married. Finally, with my husband's death two years ago, we have moved and re-established our life together as man and woman, as husband and wife."




The Summer of Sheila



The summer after my sophomore year at college, I got a job in a medium-sized city 1000 miles from my school. I spent three months doing the 8:30 to 5 Big Office routine during the day and the Footloose-And-Fancy Free at night. I rented a room in a large house that served as an adjunct frat house rental during the school year, though during the summer the students were gone and the house was just half-filled with twenty-something guys who took advantage of cheap housing. Life was good!

One Thursday a housemate suggested we drive a half hour across the river to a dance club he knew about, and on Friday evening we made the trek. The cover charge was small, the bartender didn't look too closely at my fake ID (being six months shy of 21), and the dance floor was crowded – who could ask for more? An hour later I spotted her, standing out in a huddle of three girls. I studied her from 30 feet away - an absolutely gorgeous face, and a slim frame with generous breasts. I was entranced.

I had nothing to lose. I approached, made eye contact, and asked her to dance. We stayed on the dance floor for an hour, gyrating to the driving beat of rock & roll, mostly fast but some slow. We talked when the volume permitted; otherwise we just fed off each other's presence as we moved together in sync. I was enamored with her, and she gave me every indication she felt the same.

At the end of the evening I had her name – Sheila – her phone number, and her encouragement to get together "real soon." I called her on Saturday, and on Tuesday I was driving from work to her house. It was her mother's house, although during the week her mother (who was divorced) worked a couple of hours away in another city, renting an apartment there and only coming home on weekends. Otherwise, Sheila lived with her older brother and his girlfriend and their infant son.

Our relationship progressed quickly. Sheila told me she'd recently broken up with her boyfriend Billy, and I accepted my role as The Rebound without complaint. Sheila was, without exaggeration, simply the most beautiful girl I'd ever been with. Sexually, she was timid. She told me she'd only had sex with one guy – not Billy -- and it hadn't gone well. She never told me exactly what happened, though she hints she dropped hints that he had forced himself on her in a way that was borderline rape. She dumped him and got together with Billy, the recently departed boyfriend. They were together for almost a year until something happened between them and they broke up. I figured it had something to do with sex, since she told me she never had sex with Billy, as she was too traumatized by the earlier encounter.

With me as The Out-Of-Town Rebound, however, Sheila was curious about sex. At first we'd hang out around her neighborhood and in her house. We'd make out on the couch in the darkened living room while her mother (on the weekends) and brother were in their own bedrooms. By the fourth date in two weeks, we were hot and heavy on the couch. My hands were up her shirt on her spectacular breasts and down her pants diddling her swollen, creamy pussy. Thankfully, Sheila kept her orgasms quiet, with her moist gasps aimed directly into my ear.

I was in love! Okay, maybe not "love," but I was definitely in lust!

My first two lovers were nonorgasmic, despite my best (albeit inexperienced) efforts. Nothing worked with either of them – not fingering, not oral, and not (of course) from fucking. Number One was on the Pill, and we had sex whenever we got the chance. She was my introduction to bareback sex, and that spoiled me forever. Number Two was a very reluctant virgin. After weeks of gentle seduction, she eventually allowed me to slip my cock inside her tantalizing pussy for all-too-brief, partial insertions, finishing with "coitus interruptus" eruptions on her tummy. She wouldn't use birth control beyond a Rhythm Method eye on the calendar, doubling-down with defensive use of contraceptive foam. "I'm still a virgin," she asserted one evening after our usual rub-and-spurt, "because you've never cum inside me." A few minutes later I settled that particular issue. Long story short, we broke up shortly thereafter.

Number Three was a charm, however regrettably brief our relationship turned out to be. She was delightfully orgasmic and on the Pill – and orgasmic during intercourse, which got me addicted to that, as well as to bareback. I enthusiastically enjoy the female orgasm, regardless of how it arrives, though there is something profoundly satisfying to bring your lover to a climax with your cock stretching her open and buried deep. It's a primal thing, an instinctual dominant-submissive penetration of your masculine hardened flesh into her soft, slickly welcoming feminine flesh, and then being able to thrust and grind and bring her to a breathtaking, writhing moaning orgasm as you pump rivers of your juice into her body.

And so with Sheila, I was flooded with testosterone and horny as hell, and I was looking for more than simply fingering her to an orgasm. The next weekend I brought her back to my house in the early afternoon. There in the relaxed privacy of my room, out of earshot of her mother and brother, we got naked and we wrinkled the sheets in my double bed. Sheila was a goddess, and my mouth worshipped at the altar of her pussy. Her scent and her taste got me rock-hard, and in my bed she allowed herself to be more vocal. She was still somewhat shy, though that soon passed. Her breathy, guttural grunts ramped up to announce her orgasm, complete with a final few seconds of muscle-stiffening silence followed by several sharp, high-pitched squeaks as she rocked her hips to slash her raw, open pussy against my mouth and slathering tongue.

The only catch was that I didn't have a condom, and Sheila wasn't on the Pill. When I mounted her, I kept my cock outside. "Be careful," she warned, and I caressed her pussylips and clit with my erection until I couldn't stand it any longer and carefully (and reluctantly) unloaded onto her belly as her right fist clutched my pulsing shaft. It wasn't my ideal, but it was a start.

Afterwards, I asked Sheila about her menstrual cycle. I'm regular, she said, and told me she expected her period to begin in a couple of days. In my horny optimism, that meant she was still probably safe – "probably" being the operative word, of course. You've heard the old saying, "What do you call people who use the rhythm method? Parents!" Still, in my current state of mine – and Sheila's – "probably" seemed adequate enough.

We began to make out again, and soon my erection returned. My mouth returned to her sweet, musky pussy, and before long her nectar was flowing again, her pussylips were fattened with arousal, and her clit hardened as stiffly as my cock. This time when I mounted her, we both knew where things were headed. Sheila's legs opened wide, and she angled her hips to give me a target that I didn't really need.

I nudged my cockhead inside her, just beyond a tight ring at the entrance that snugged around my shaft. "Be gentle," she breathed, and I was. Sheila's eyes were wide open and glued to my face, and I slipped my cock in, a fraction of an inch at a time, each incremental forward progress well-lubricated by her glorious, snug silky sheath.

Finally I bottomed out. My pubic bone pressed against her inflamed pussylips. My cock was captured inside her succulent embrace. The sensations were intense. Overwhelming. I hadn't been inside a woman in months, and now here I was, my cock beginning those telltale involuntary twitches, and none of that was helped by Sheila's breathy panting and moans and sighs.

Uh oh, I thought. This isn't going to last long.

I slowly pulled out. Sheila sighed and wiggled her hips beneath me. "Don't go," she murmured. I diddled her clit with my shaft until I felt I'd regained enough control to try another dip in the pool. "Oh," she gasped, "Oh... Oh" as I recaptured lost territory so recently abandoned. This time it was better. Just barely better. Sheila was breathing even quicker, her moans now almost continual, her body writhing underneath me. Maybe she was close, too? I couldn't tell for sure.

Even in this flood of sensations and flurries of scattered thoughts, I was rational enough to understand that I needed to slow down my onwardly rushing orgasm and speed Sheila's up. "Put your legs together," I told her, and then showed her what I meant, ending up with my legs outside hers, and her legs straight and flat on the mattress. My cock was buried deep, and her pussy felt tighter than ever, but past experience with my orgasmic girlfriend gave me hope that this might be a more effective position to get Sheila to climax.

Now my rhythmic thrusts were more like rhythmic pushing pressure against her pussylips and clit, and there was almost none of the old in-out-in-out that was certain to bring me to an immediate finish. It seemed to work. Sheila's eyes got wide, and her mouth pursed opened and her breaths were punctuated by throat-catching grunts. Her fingernails dug sharp dents into my back. Her body squirmed under my weight, her hips struggled to press upward to meet my muscled, inward pushes.

Sheila seemed right on the edge, but I was closer and got there first. I gave up trying to fight it off. My primal instincts took over my hips, and I allowed myself three or four (who could count?) two-inch (who could measure?) solid thrusts, complete with all-in deep-as-I-could-get moaning-groaning full-pressure pushes that ended with my cock hardened to its max and buried, my body rigid, and my juices spurting again and again and again into Sheila's hot little snatch. Her own voice was a steady, primal moan. And her fingernails. To this day I remember those fingernails digging into my back.

Sheila's orgasms were reliable and predictable. Two days after that first time she was back in my bed, and two or three times a week after that for the next two months. My mouth would warm her up, repeatedly getting her to the edge before backing off, until she demanded that I get inside her. Sometimes she'd climb on top of me and grind away. Other times she'd lie on her back and spread wide and hold my face as I fucked her. Invariably, what brought her to orgasm was our original my-legs-outside-her-legs position, with my cock buried deep and giving her strong, rhythmic pressure-pushes.

If Sheila was mid-cycle and fertile (and there's nothing more fertile than a 19-year-old woman), I'd pull out at the last second and spurt on her belly. But if she was close to her period, either before or after, or even during her period, I'd bring her to orgasm, and then we'd adjust to a regular Missionary position and I'd pump away until I unloaded my full measure of juices inside her sweet vagina. As I pulsed white liquid jets into her, Sheila's eyes would lock onto mine and her legs would hold me close, and her hips would rock and rock and rock until my throbbing cock weakened and body stopped shuddering.

The unspoken reality was that I was leaving my summer job and returning to school at the end of August. Oh, we'd had half-formed conversations about how to maintain our relationship, even raising the notion of her moving to my college town, finding a job, and seeing where the relationship was when I graduated. But all that came to a crashing halt in mid August. "I'm late," she announced when I picked her up at her house one Wednesday evening. Late? How late? "Two weeks," she said. "I think I'm pregnant. My body feels weird."

The following Saturday I was at her front door. She stepped outside. "I don't want to see you anymore," she said, firmly. "I got back together with Billy." Her old boyfriend? What about her maybe being pregnant? "I don't want to see you anymore," she repeated. "You need to go back to school."

I was stunned. My emotions were in turmoil. She didn't want to talk further about anything. "Go," she repeated. "I'm going back inside. Please don't call me." And then she went back into the house and shut the door behind her. I stood there paralyzed for a minute, then walked slowly to my car. What just happened? Why did it happen? Nothing was clear to me. My anxiety about her possible pregnancy and what we were going to do about it had now suddenly turned into a chaos of emotions – including, I confess, a degree of relief that was colored by a patina of guilt.

A few days later I phoned Sheila. She was curt and blunt. "I don't want to talk to you," and she hung up. And that was that. I returned to school and to my otherwise normal life, and I never knew what happened to Sheila. Years passed before I tried to use Internet tools to find her, and by then it was too late for an amateur to accomplish. I couldn't find anything about her or her family using her maiden name, and she was probably using a married name now. Was she pregnant? Did she give birth? If so, where was the child now? I never knew. All I had was the memory of her gorgeous face and sexy body and the sensory memories of those sharp fingernails dug into my flesh as I pumped my seed into her hot slickness.



The Summer of the Garden Boys



I met Brad six years ago when my family moved to a house in the country near a small farming community. He rode up one day on a Honda ATV. I had never lived in the country and I had never ridden an ATV and here was a perfect stranger showing up and offering me a chance to ride his. A few quick instructions and away I went. It was a great icebreaker and the beginning of a lifelong friendship. 

Before long we were rippin' and runnin' all around the country. Fishing, hunting, trapping, lying about all the things we'd done with girls and bragging about what we wanted to do with them next. I worked for Brad's dad, Earl, in the spring, summer and fall, as did most of the country boys we knew. 

There was always something to do. Moving pipe in the green bean fields, spraying strawberries, planting corn, threshing wheat, hauling hay, working cattle and a thousand other tasks. Brad and I worked together all the time. 

When we were finally split up, it was to run separate crews. Brad got the irrigation moved, I got the fences fixed, gates built and cattle fed and watered. Life was simple; work hard, play harder. 

When we goofed off, we'd do the normal stuff that older boys becoming young men would do. Dirt clod fights, water wars, wrestling matches, all the stuff that turned boys into men. There was a hierarchy on the farm that wasn't dictated by age or blood. It had more to do with ability and experience. Though we had several young men older than us working with us, Brad and I were the undisputed leaders. 

This was in part because Earl owned the entire operation, and in part because I was Brad's best friend, but mostly because neither one of us had ever failed to get a crop in or a herd moved. The harder the task the better. We were young and bulletproof. Because we spent a good bit of our down time at the country store in Garden, Oregon, we became The Garden Boys. 

From time to time one of the new guys, college students and such, thought they'd grown enough summer muscle to challenge either my authority or Brad's. We couldn't just fight a crewman, that wouldn't be fair. On the outside chance that the challenger could beat one of us, he'd have to take on the other too. No, it wasn't fair, but Brad and I never really concerned ourselves with fair. 

Instead we'd arrange for a contest of some sort that we'd put the crews through to come up with a worthy challenger to take on either Brad or me. If the challenger came from my crew, Brad would finish him off. If it came from his crew, it would be my turn to put him in his place. That way the loser could continue to work for his crew boss without any hard feelings and we wouldn't be short a guy at crunch time. 

The guys that had been around us for more than one summer would find a way to lose in the earlier rounds and let the new guys have a chance to take us on. The older guys knew from experience that as much fun as we liked to have, neither Brad nor I would ever quit challenge. We might seem like we were easy going, but he and I had our own contest going. If either of the Garden Boys were to ever lose, we both knew that the other would spend the rest of our lives rubbing it in. That was a big incentive to keep our undefeated records going.

By the time I was 19 and Brad was 18, we had a long standing and hard-earned reputation for our skills in a scrap and our talents for trouble, but I was more proud of our ability to solve any problem. Brad could build anything you could think of, and I could think up a special contraption or machine to solve any problem. It wasn't uncommon for neighbors to wave us down and ask for advice on getting something done or solved. That was pretty cool for a couple of teenagers.

But the best part was that we were closer than brothers. We were and remain best friends. We even moved in together. Earl had offered the use of a mobile home on his property by the country store. We jumped at the chance. We got to come and go like we were adults and we were still close enough to home to always have a hot meal and clean clothes. For all of our apparent maturity, we were basically beginners when it came to matters of the heart.

One night I happened to notice something I had never seen before. It was a warm summer evening, the crickets and tree frogs just beginning to sing for night to come. I was sitting on our deck outside the trailer and happened to notice one of the neighbors working in the yard. 

Delinda Zeller was 18, a year younger than me, and until that moment she was just a pain-in-the-neck tomboy I had grown used to ignoring. That perfect summer evening she became something else in my eyes. 

Long, lean legs, narrow waist, perky breasts, and curly brown hair down the middle of her back; tied behind her ears with a baby blue ribbon. She was wearing a brown summer dress with tiny spots that I later I found out were little blue flowers the same color as her ribbon. Gone was the tomboy. Delinda had become a woman. 

So there I was drinking iced tea and finally having a sexual epiphany. I nudged Brad and jerked my head in Delinda's direction. "Waddaya think?"

"Lisa's better." He was talking about Delinda's older sister by ten months. 

I will agree that Lisa Zeller was pretty, no doubt about it. But she wore a lot of makeup and acted like she knew she was pretty, both turn-offs for me. I liked them pretty without makeup and I prefer that they not be stuck up. Yes indeed, Delinda was more my style.

"I think it's a good night for a camp out," I declared, knowing by just declaring it, Brad would agree.

"Tonight? You think so? We have a long day tomorrow," he was just stalling while he did a mental list of everything we would need.

"I think the Zeller's should come with us. Maybe do a little catfishing, maybe look for some falling stars, maybe taste your mom's blackberry wine......" I left off right there.

Up until then Brad and I always went camping alone, if for no other reason than we had always preferred our own company than dealing with the camp habits of others. That and we liked to try to stink the other guy out with our flatulence, a habit we were perfectly certain wouldn't be funny to anyone else.

"Maybe you're right." He paused as if thinking about it. "I'll meet you down at the lake." 

Brad jumped to his feet, climbed into his Ford 4 x 4 and took off for his folks' house. That left me to do the inviting. Not a problem. I chose the direct approach. 

"Delinda!" I called out. She turned, almost done taking down the sun-dried sheets. "Wanna go on a camp out?" 

She reached up and pushed a stray strand of curly brown hair that the breeze had pushed across her face. She looked at me strangely for a moment, as if trying to divine my intentions. She didn't seem at all confident but she answered.

"I guess so. Let me get the laundry in the house," she hollered back.

"See if Lisa wants to come too. Brad will meet us by the lake," I shouted. That seemed to reassure her, safety in numbers. Maybe she had thought I was asking her to come with just me. Too late now, I blew that chance.

"OK. When?" she asked. 

"Twenty minutes. I'll get my stuff." 

She just nodded and carried the basket of laundry into the house. I gathered up my fishing tackle, a couple of sleeping bags, a bag of food and some pans. I tossed it all into the back of my truck and drove the fifty yards to the Zellers.

"You should have showered," said Delinda, scrunching up her nose as she slid in beside me. Lisa took the seat by the door. Good. 

"I'll just take a swim later in the trout stream and cool off. It's a nice night for it. Have Lisa roll her window down if it's too much man for you."

"It's not that bad. I kind of like the way a man smells." To prove it, she settled in a little closer to me, even though there was plenty of room next to her sister. Even better.

Brad was already at the lake when we got there. He had a couple of rods out and was busy getting the fire going. Even though there was plenty of deadfall around, Brad and I always made certain there were a couple of ricks of dry cottonwood and oak stacked up at the campsite. 

This lake wasn't that big, less than 200 acres and it was surrounded on all shores by fifty or sixty yards of woods and around that by a few thousand acres of his father's fields. This was as private as you could get in the central Willamette Valley. 

The lake water was used for irrigation and there were several spring-fed creeks that kept it full. At the end farthest away from us was a small creek that emptied it out and drained into the Willamette River, a couple of miles away. It was full of crappie, bass, blue gill and in the spring creeks, small rainbow trout. Pan fried rainbow trout was always a treat, no matter the season.

I got my tackle out and set out a couple lines of my own. Brad had the fire going good in just that short time. "Let's go catch some trout and have some supper," he said, not getting any dissent from me. 

We guided the girls down a quarter-mile trail through the cool woods, the summer evening beginning in earnest. We arrived at our favorite pool and set to the task of catching a few fish. Just throwing pink Rooster-Tails was enough. The trout were hungry and we had a fine mess in just a few minutes. The girls wanted to catch more, but we didn't want to take any more than we planned on eating. 

"Let's swim instead," I suggested. "You said I stink and it's a perfect evening for it." 

"We didn't bring suits," complained Lisa. She was really complaining that she didn't bring makeup but that didn't matter to Brad.

"You don't need one," he assured her. "There's no one around but us roosters. Cockadoodle doo!" 

With that he skinned out of his shirt and pants, kicking off his cowboy boots and pulled off his socks. There he was in his navy blue briefs with a gray band. I had to admit, Brad was a good looking guy.

"Last one in has to do the dishes!" I shouted, shedding my own clothes.

I stood there in my white skivvies, having long given up briefs so that my cock wasn't confined all day. Briefs are uncomfortable when your cock is as long and thick as mine is. I kept my back to Delinda, suddenly a little unsure of how she would react if she saw my horse cock. I dove in and swam to where Brad was treading water. 

"Come on in, the water's fine!" Brad lied. Spring-fed water is cold as hell. I was glad of it, I could use a little shrinkage. 

The Zeller's conferred with each other, took their time looking for signs of any other human beings, then reluctantly removed their summer dresses, both standing there in just their white bras and panties, shivering against nonexistent cold. 

"Run and jump in, that's the best way," I coached. Brad and I kept to ourselves, a long way from where they were, hoping that we'd give them enough confidence to just run and jump in. It worked. 

"One-----two-----THREEEEE!" they shouted together as they ran toward the creek pool, hands linked. Into the air they leapt and then into the cold water where their joy turned to utter shock!

"Oh shit this is cold!" screamed Lisa. Brad and I were shocked that she knew that kind of language. She immediately turned to shore, desperate to get out. 

"All yours," I whispered to Brad, who suddenly decided it was time to get out himself. Delinda was swimming confidently to me, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Serves her right," she said to me as she arrived. "This is nice. Do you and Brad come here a lot?"

"Yes," I replied honestly. About every chance we get. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. "But this is the first time we've asked anyone else to come."

Half a lie, but half a truth was good enough. She seemed buoyed by the idea that she and Lisa were the first girls allowed into our inner sanctum. 

"We're going back," Brad called from the shore. "I'll get the fish cleaned and get started on supper. Lisa is cold and wants to sit by the fire." 

We both knew that the walk back would have her warmer than the fire would. Brad walked back in just his briefs, knowing that by the time he reached camp he'd be dry enough to get dressed again. Lisa put her green summer dress on over her wet clothes, which Brad cautioned against but was ignored.

Delinda and I splashed around, taking turns trying to dunk each other. I accidentally on purpose let my hand slip and brush against her breast. She decided to tickle me in retaliation and despite the cold water, my manhood begin to flood with blood, poking through my boxers. 

It felt so good, I just let it go, not caring if Delinda could see. I wanted her to see. The back of her hand smacked the top of my cock and I jerked back. This was the first time a girl had touched me there, ever. It sprang to life and remained that way for the rest of the day. I was harder than Chinese arithmetic. So hard a cat couldn't scratch it. It shocked Delinda a little too.

"I'm cold," she lied. "Let's get out." 

"You go ahead, I want to swim a while longer. You know, get that man-smell off of me."

She looked at me funny and then headed for the small area where it was safe to climb out. She didn't rush right into her clothes as her sister had. Instead she sat there on a rock, knees under her chin, arms hugging them close, waiting for the summer night to dry her off. 

When my cock finally subsided slightly, I swam over to her and climbed out. This time I didn't try to hide my family pride. If she was going to be put off by a well-developed cock, now was the time to find out. I stood up on the shore and stretched out, letting my muscles loosen up, giving her ample opportunity to ogle my package, well defined by my clinging cotton boxers.

"Let's head back," I said, intending to scoop up my clothes but pull on my cowboy boots.

"Wait a second," she interrupted. "I need to do something first." She walked over to me and tilted her face up to mine. She pulled my neck until our lips met. Her kiss was sweet. Sweeter than honeysuckle blossoms in August. "That's for inviting us up here." 

She let her hands drop down my arms, until they came to my waist. I pulled her closer and kissed her again. I could feel my cock pressing into her stomach and I knew should could too. I could feel her breasts pressing into my chest. Without the cold spring water to keep things temperate, my cock threatened to separate us. "You are certainly well hung, aren't you?" she laughed, rubbing her belly where my cock had pressed into her.

"Is that a problem?" I asked. I knew for a fact that some girls were intimidated by a cock the size of mine.

"We'll see later," she flirted. She picked up her dress and retied her hair behind her ears with that baby blue ribbon. Her breasts jutted out, more than a handful but not quite melons. Her nipples pressed hard against the lining of her bra. I snuck a peek farther south and could clearly see the outline and shadow of her pubic hair. 

"God I hope so!" I answered, finishing what I had started with my clothes.

We walked back to the campfire, our hands clasped together and swinging. I knew she was my girl and she knew I was her man without any formal declaration. In that short walk in the summer twilight we became a couple.

Back at the fire, Lisa seemed shocked to see us still in our underwear. She was the only one dressed. Brad was hunched over the fire, a pan of potatoes and a pan of trout both sizzling on the metal grate we leave there for such things. 

On the corner of the grill was a can of Bush's baked beans. We probably should have skipped those, but tradition is tradition. I could see a little lust in Lisa's eyes as she watched his broad back and rippling muscles while he worked on dinner. Brad's hair was long, straight and blonde enough that you might have thought he was a surfer. He chest was well tanned, but he was white as snow from the waist down. Farm hands don't work with their pants off.

"Lisa, you look over dressed. Why don't you slip out of that dress and let your underthings dry out. Otherwise you'll chafe tonight." Lisa looked at Delinda still in her bra and panties and shrugged. She slipped out of her dress and laid it on a nearby bush.

"Supper's ready," said Brad, standing up with a pan of trout.

"I'll help," said Delinda. "Where are the plates?" 

Brad and I both laughed. I reached into the bag of supplies and took out four forks. "We doan' need no steenkeen plates" I did in my best Tony Montana voice.

I handed them each a fork and grabbed the hot pan of fried potatoes and onions. "Dig in." 

Brad and I had long ago given up the finer dining styles of human beings for the hunched over the fire caveman-ism we had come to call our own. Fewer dishes to wash. The girls were good sports, taking turns with us at ripping apart the trout and spuds and shoveling them into their ravenous mouths.

They were pointing and giggling at each other, occasionally getting into fork fights over a bit of trout. Brad grabbed the beans while I moved the potatoes to one side of the pan. He poured the beans in and that started a fresh round of feeding. In no time we had the whole mess eaten. We were laughing and bumping and generally enjoying the moment. Brad and I realized that we should have had these girls come camping with us for years. Boy, were we glad they were here now. 

"You two were the last one's in, you have to do the dishes." They found that hysterical. 

They took the pans and flipped them upside down on the fire, letting the flames do the work. Clearly they'd been camping before. Night was now fully on us. The lake was alive with the melodic chirping of frogs and toads. The fireflies were twitting about in the underbrush, trying to attract a mate. Now that my shorts were dry, I pulled my pants on, just be safe. Brad did the same. Surprisingly, the Zeller's kept their dresses off, ignoring the high-pitched whine of the mosquitoes.

"Let's go look for falling stars," suggested Brad. 

Hearing no objection, he and I each grabbed a sleeping bag and a bottle of homemade blackberry wine and headed for the adjacent ryegrass field. I chose a spot where the stand of grass was thick and lush. I spread out the sleeping bag and indicated that Delinda should lay down. She did and I flopped down next to her. The tall grass around us formed a barrier against the rest of the world.

"This spot isn't very good, Lisa" observed Brad. "Let's go over here a ways and see if we can see better." 

Delinda started to protest, this spot was perfectly fine, but one look from me and she realized that this meant we could be alone. She smiled. Lisa followed Brad and they moved about a hundred feet away. I had to get up on my knees to watch him spread out his sleeping bag and sit down on it with Lisa. Then they laid back and were gone from sight. I did the same. 

I remember thinking how perfect my life was at that moment. It was a warm summer night and I was laying in the grass with a beautiful brunette who was only wearing her bra and panties. I felt like the luckiest man alive.

I didn't know how to start anything with Delinda. She had taken the initiative at the trout pool. So instead we lay on our backs, staring at the stars, and we talked. We talked about our families, school, farming, 4-H, the county fair, how much we liked barbecue, everything. We opened the bottle of wine and passed it back and forth. It was delicious and potent. I had a healthy buzz going.

"David, can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure you can Delinda, anything." I rolled up on my elbow, head on my hand.

"Are you going to kiss me?" 

She smiled and waited, fingertips lightly tracing the outlines of her bra on her breasts. I took that as a sign of encouragement and leaned in to kiss her. We started slow, like a trickle from a small spring high on the mountain. 

In a few minutes we had raised the stakes, first to a creek, then a small river, now to a raging torrent of passion. The wine made me brave and I let my hands finally wander, feeling the warmth and firmness of her breasts. She rubbed my bare chest and reached around and dug her nails into my back.