1 comments/  287791 views/  17 favorites

Mother-In-Law Sex

By: kelvin-hall



My mother, Ellen is now in her late fifties but still gives the impression of being a very sexual woman. She has put on some weight around the waist and thighs since I first met her, some ten years ago, but she is tall and carries it well. Ellen is very open with Yvonne, my wife, and has told her that she has had affairs in the past due to the fact that Yvonne's dad has a low libido. She even admitted that she had fucked one of Yvonne's teenage ex-boyfriends soon after they had split up. These admissions stimulated my fantasies and soon after meeting her I was dreaming of fucking her. She did not help the situation by running her hand up and down my thigh quite a few times, one hot summers day, while I was wearing shorts, while commenting on what hairy legs I had. She also seems to end up often sitting cross legged, or worse with her legs splayed wide, on the floor opposite me when wearing very tight leggings, making it difficult for me to avoid staring at her crotch but maybe that was just coincidence?

* * * * *

Yvonne and I were living together, in a flat with no garden so one hot day we decided to go to her mum and dad's to sunbathe in their sheltered back garden. When we arrived we found her mother was about to do the same thing. Yvonne was wearing her swimming costume beneath her clothes and I had some very short flimsy running shorts on so we quickly stripped down to these and went out, put down our towels on the grass beside each other and lay down on our backs with our feet towards the door and the sun. After about five minutes Ellen emerged wearing a skimpy, tight, yellow, floral patterned bikini and walked slowly right past me as I gazed, from behind half shut eyes, at her body and in particular at her crotch. After walking along the side of me she disappeared from my field of view and I heard her lying down somewhere above my head.

I thought no more about it till Yvonne's dad came out and told her one of her favourite films was on TV. Yvonne jumped up and headed inside with her dad. As I had been out a while I decided it was time to turn over. I did so to find Ellen lying on her front, her bare feet towards me, only a yard away from my head. Unfortunately her legs were together but when I put my head on my hands as I lay down again I got a great view of her butt rising at the top of her long smooth thighs and the intriguing dark valley that ran upwards between them. I could feel my dick start to thicken as I thought about massaging those soft mounds, so near and yet so far. I lay there enjoying the view at least, staring quite blatantly as I knew that from the house my eyes could not be seen. Better was to come.

Ellen soon decided to turn over also and I closed my eyes as she started to move lest she see the direction of my gaze. When she had settled I cautiously opened my eyes and was stunned to find her legs were now slightly apart, affording me a view right up between them to her crotch. Here I was with my head no more than five feet away from my mothers cunt staring straight at it and with only a thin veil of bikini fabric wrapped tightly about it. My cock was now firm and I had to shuffle about to get it to a comfortable position. I was now beginning to worry about what would happen if Yvonne came back out, or worse, if I had to get up as my aroused state would be obvious for all to see. I forced myself to shut my eyes and turned my head to face the other way. After a few minutes my problem receded a bit and I heard some more movement from Ellen's position so I turned back towards her. What had happened however was that she had now pulled her knees up and spread her legs so I now had an unfettered view of her crotch from where her buttocks pressed the ground up to the prominent curving mound of her cunt. My cock sprang to attention as I realised that to give that smooth a profile beneath the sheer bikini bottoms she must be either shaven or very lightly haired. I tried but I could not wrest my gaze away from her. I was lying there in shock. 

Was she deliberately teasing me...? Or was she just making herself comfortable as she dozed in the sun?

I had now way of knowing. After a couple of minutes trying to soak up the sight and embed it in my memory I realised I it could not go on, so I started to get up to make a rapid journey to the safety of the toilet to recover. However as I was halfway up Ellen lifted her head and looking at me said, "be an angel Kelvin and bring me out a drink, there's Coke in the fridge." I don't know if she saw the prominence in my shorts but I thought I saw a smile playing around her lips as she lowered her head to the grass.

I mumbled my consent and beat a hasty retreat to the house. As I stood behind the locked door of the bathroom I could not stop myself from freeing my rigid cock and beginning to stroke it as I imagined the soft wet cunt and tight wrinkled arsehole that nestled below the thin band of material I had so recently been gazing at. I was just getting into my stroke when I heard movement in the rest of the house and realised this was not the time or the place to be jerking off. As I was willing my stiffness away Yvonne knocked gently on the door and asked if it was OK for her and her dad to nip into town to the shops. I said, "sure" and she said they would be back in an hour or two.

I heard the door shut as I emerged, deflated (literally) from the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen. Through the kitchen window I could see Ellen in the same pose and I tried not to look as I poured some coke into a glass of ice for her. My willpower failed, however, as I stepped out the door, and as I walked towards her I could not stop myself glancing between her spread thighs. In response I again felt the thickening of my member which I tried to conceal by holding the glass in both hands in front of it. Just before I reached her side and after a particularly long glance at her cunt, I look up at her to find her looking straight at me...!

Rather than wilting through embarrassment though, the idea that my mother knew I had been staring at her cunt, excited me tremendously and my penis jerked up to full size instantly as I arrived at her side.

She was now looking straight up at me past what was unmistakably an erect penis. I could do nothing to hide my arousal as we looked into each others eyes. As she reached up for her drink, she deliberately allowed the side of her hand to graze the taught material where it stretched over the inflated head of my cock and I could not stop my hips from twitching forward, pushing my prick against it. She smiled confidently at me as she took her drink from my hands at my waist and as she brought it downwards stopped and rested the cool glass on top of my red hot dick with the palm of her hand cupping the head of my stiffness. Again I could not restrain my self and started thrusting gently against her hand. Ellen's face had taken on a more serious look now and as I watched I saw her free hand snake down her body and she started to rub her mound through the bikini. This was driving me wild and I was desperate for her to grasp my cock properly. I started to thrust more insistently and she pulled down on my dick causing me to bend my knees and squat just about her shoulder height. 

"I want to see it Kelvin," she said huskily and as I looked around me worried we might be seen, she put down her drink and pulled the elastic waist of my shorts out and down enough to allow my straining member to spring free. She lay back and again moved her hand to her crotch but this time her fingers snaked under the material as she stared intently at my twitching penis. Her hand soon took up a regular rhythm on her cunt, rubbing up and down and she started to breath more deeply. I grasped my dick and started to wank it then grabbed her free hand and wrapped her relaxed fingers around it and she started to move her hand back and forth. It was an incredible feeling. Having my mothers warm hand jerking my penis, only inches away from her face as she stared at it and masturbated herself urgently before me.

I would have loved to touched her pussy but as her breathing became more ragged she was concentrating on her own pleasure and loosing the rhythm of her hand as she wanked me, so I put my hand on top of hers and started to pull it up and down faster as I neared my climax. I had never given a woman a facial before, although I had fantasised about it many times, but the opportunity was to good to miss and as I felt the rush coming I leant over her, putting my free hand on the ground, on the far side of her head and as her eyes widened and she stared at the tip of my knob, it let loose a long spurt of thick hot cum that jetted into her open mouth then up over her cheek and into her hair. She let out a low moan as another pulse hit her on the side of the nose and up over her forehead. I turned to look at her hand grinding into her soaking cunt as she spasmed with orgasm, then back as the spurts subsided and the last of my cum dripped down onto her chin as she moaned and gasped before slowly relaxing. She pulled my still firm dick towards her, kissed the tip and licked the last ooze of cream from it and then said gently, "I think we should go and get cleaned up now."

I helped her up and we walked into the house, my cum still covering her face and now dripping down onto her breasts and my still hard prick sticking out above the waist band of my shorts. When in the house she went into the bathroom and by the time she came out my stiffness had subsided and I had tucked myself back into my shorts.

I was unsure of what to say but she saved me the trouble by saying, "I think we should just pretend this never happened, Kelvin."

Mother-In-Law Sex Pt. 01



Mother-in-Law Sex, Pt 1

Whenever I had any minor aches and pains, it was my mother, Mae, to whom I, and the whole family, turned to: she was an ex-nurse after all.

We all lived in the one house (the one I had bought as part of my wedding payment): me, my wife, Mae and younger sister of my wife. Funny I guess, but I am older than my mother, though yes: I call her Mae (mother) – only 2 years mind! My wife and sister-in-law, Nui, both worked every day; Mae had recently resigned after a dispute at her hospital, and I had been retrenched – but comfortable enough on my savings and superannuation to live well and support the family.

One morning a few months back I woke with a crinked neck when my wife pecked my cheek 'bye' as she and Nui headed off to work; I couldn't relax, so after making the bed and ready to head downstairs, decided to have a shower and massage my neck to see if that would help. But my bathroom downstairs only had cold water, so instead I opted for the upstairs bathroom hot water, stripped off my shorts (all I needed to wear in the house) and soaped up and massaged my neck under the shower. 

Neck seemed a little better as I rubbed the soap all over, then down my body elsewhere, all over, and then up and lingering on my dick and balls as I dreamed. My wife had enjoyed sex before we married, but seemed suddenly to turn off after that, so it was stressful to push myself to her against her wishes, and her desires were few and far between. Think 'frustrated' is the word!

I had taken, as an alternative, to reading sex stories on the web when I was alone at home, stroking myself sometimes to a spurting climax, sometimes just getting hard and enjoying the feeling as well as some good stories. One site had all sorts of themes, including naturally Incest, but also Large Women, and I found myself increasingly drawn to this area after an early story drew images of my mother as I read it; she was large: Asian, so short-ish height, but a big loved-her-food eater and now not working, she had developed a thickening girth and buttocks, matching her always big breasts which, of course, I had noticed for some time! Yet, together with her large size, and nice, big boobs, she had beautiful, slim legs, and slim wrists and arms to her shoulders. Her face was also very, very pretty. Say it in three words: Big & Sexy!

This day, (deciding that rubbing my neck was no substitute to..) rubbing my prick, dreaming of long-ago sex – honestly, a nice dog in our street had begun entering my thoughts about how to get some sex – actually still does enter my thoughts! –these thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Mae burst in to the bathroom (I thought she was asleep still), exclaiming on seeing me "Sorry son, must go to the toilet very fast! Sorry!!" as she hiked her nightie (the purple silk one I had bought her on one trip overseas I noticed, one which showed her large, pointy nipples very well), sat and let out a fire-hose sounding amount of piss into the toilet bowl, her knees virtually rubbing my calves - as the toilet was just to the left of the main shower area in the all-Tiled Asian-style bathroom.

I had stopped rubbing my cock after a few seconds shock and just tried to turn my rear towards Mae's bent over head as she strained to release the last few drops of urine, but then I felt hands on my buttocks!

Now, I was the lightweight in the family; all of 52kgs when heavy, bones and not much more since childhood. Mae used her slim hands to knead my slim buttocks, saying "I have seen these when you weren't aware, but never had the chance to feel such small buns. Wow, they are so cute!"

My hands over my cock in front, my rear exposed to probing hands and fingers...what to do?

I let her play with my arse, that's what I did, while I sucked in a breath and floated into a dream situation – which naturally led me to re-commence stroking myself. 

"Here, let me take care of that" my mother said, as she leaned forward, keeping one hand on my rear (noticeably closer to my crack I vaguely realized) and grasping my lengthened cock with her right hand, naturally having to encircle my waist, and thus pulling me a step backwards, closer to her.

"Mae...!" I began to say, but no, not really, this is a fantasy story, so to tell the truth (!): I just sighed and let her do what she wanted, and basked in the feelings.

She removed her hand from my bottom, stood up, flushed the toilet, closed the lid, then sat me on the toilet seat, turned herself away from me and, with my cock still held by her right hand, held it pointing straight up as she lowered herself on IT!

Now, I am not a huge cock person, truly I have never measured myself, but in Asia I am aware that I am pretty much bigger than normal. Mae gasped as she reached only half-way down my prick, letting me slip slowly through her fingers as she came down. Her vagina, (ok: her pussy), was tight but still had vestiges of urine I guess which helped lubricate her a little, along with my wet cock, as she continued to strive for the bottom.

No, by now this wasn't all mother raping son-in-law: I was feeling very nice thank you; inside a pussy for first time in a long time, incestuously inside that of my wife's mother! And she had a nice pussy, let me tell you. I could feel the walls and the juice now beginning to pour forth, and her large arse starting to bounce on my knees and thighs as she came lower.

My hands now moved where they had yearned to go for quite some time: lifting her now sodden nightie up, forcing her to release hold of my cock for a few seconds, as I raised it over her arms and head and threw it away somewhere.

Mae couldn't hold herself up like that, so down she fell on the remaining few inches of a prick she had never known before: she squealed as I bottomed out, my wet pubic hair up against her buttocks, and my hands grabbing for those tits I had dreamed of! Oh, they were so full, so heavy, the nipples so big and pointy...now we were both turned on more, as she relaxed back against me, my prick fully inside her, my hands caressing her mounds and my fingers her nipples, my mouth starting to gently kiss her exposed back and neck to me, nibble an ear, and begin exploring for the first time.

For a moment then, I paused, my fingers lightly tweaking nipples, my lips just resting on her earlobe, my prick throbbing of its own accord, her hands smoothing up and down my thighs and calves..."I know what you are thinking" she said, "you are married to my daughter, and this is wrong. Right? Well, it has been so long for me, with my husband long since gone [he died young from drinking/smoking], and I know also that my daughter is not taking care of you this way, so let me say this: better to keep it in the family, right?"

I agreed silently, and showed her as I snuggled my face closer to her neck, my hands picking up their rubbing movements over her sumptuous breasts, her nipples rising again into my fingers, her pelvis and mine beginning to undulate, then find the rhythm which pushed her down as my cock rose inside her.

Mae knew she was a bit heavy sitting on me like that, and also desiring more, she began rising and lowering herself, breathing out in bursts as my rod filled her. In fact, her bigger-sized body was so warmly enveloping that it was a turn on, not off. 

I moved one hand and lightly brushed my nails down the side of her neck, across her shoulder, inducing a shudder, while my mouth continued lightly kissing and now suckling on the other side, and my free hand dropping from her breast to stroke downwards to her belly-button (feeling the folds of fat across her abdomen, already deciding they were erotic!) and on to the pubic hair now rubbing against my own when she sat all the way down, as my prick sensuously stroked up and in.

I found her clit: she jumped!

I circled and rubbed, hard and soft, tweezed it in 2 fingers, pulled it out and softly released. It was a beautiful size I thought, showed her sexiness, and felt wonderful as I massaged it, and felt even more so when a gush of fluid poured out, and Mae fell back onto me even further while bouncing her hips and clenching around my cock so tightly! I got her to cum, and I was so pleased to have pleased her!

I removed my hand from her pussy after she had calmed somewhat, brought it to my mouth and sucked the juice, rolling it on my tongue because it tasted so nice. I moved my mouth around her neck, across her earlobe, her cheek, found her turning towards me and shared my mouth with her for the first time. She sucked into my mouth, tongue finding the taste of herself, and sighed languidly.

Amazingly, after my own months of no sex, I hadn't yet exploded, but I was incredibly happy to see Mae feeling satisfied – truthfully, to give a woman happiness in sex has always been my objective.

But now Mae clearly thought more was on offer, and she abruptly raised off me, swung a leg around in a pirouette (almost) and straddled my dick facing me, jabbing herself down once again on my cock before it had even had time to move it seemed. Waiting there for her: straight up (though mine does have a left-leaning bend to it).

She was re-invigorated, it seemed, and facing me she commenced to grind up and down and around on me; this position also put her tits straight in front of my face – who could resist? Not me, as I cradled one in my hand, tweaked the nipple, and then buried my face into its fold, my tongue lapping that nipple before my mouth engulfed it and its surrounds. Heaven! I am a breast man, and my mother and her daughter, and in fact grandmother, were all blessed with very sizeable tits. (How do I know this about grandmother? Tell you next time!)

Mae began writhing as I feasted on that tit, as my prick bottomed out inside her, as her need and my need began coinciding, and she couldn't hold it back – she came like a rocket shooting off, but instead she shot down, her juice again flowing to me, as she lowered her head and bit into my neck, then kissed and licked, grabbing my mouth from her breast and slamming hers against mine, tongue straight into my throat it seemed and grinding, and grinding...

I let her come down a little, retrieved my mouth and bent down again, changing to the other side breast, sucking and slurping, like a baby perhaps, hoping to get some milk, and holding her buttocks pressed in/up/down on my prick, which now felt the need to release the months-long build-up of semen in my balls, and Mae's pussy was now too much to withhold for any longer.

Mae slowed, aware maybe it was coming close for me, and she sooo slowly wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me there, while flexing her pelvic muscles around my cock – god, I have never felt that before so good! Then lifting and lowering as far as possible, and doing it again, and again....I said:"Mae, this is it, right now!" Her answer told me, and we burst together in Bliss.

As is normal, we then collapsed, bodies joined in the eternal ritual, thoughts swirling as to what we had done – and for me: when could we do this again! Mae answered that unspoken question by lifting one hand to hold my neck and draw my head down, where our mouths could also join in the answer: Soon. 

End of Part 1, Part 2 underway...we don't live together now, but younger sister's new house for her and Mae is just around the corner....I go there often...


Mother-in-Law Sex, Pt2: Grandmother Love

After our first encounter, that very pleasant sex together in the bathroom, I guess both of us were unsure how to behave in the days after, especially when my wife and sister were there to again make us into a Family of 4.

I decided to try and be as natural as possible, though perhaps my wife wondered why I didn't attempt love-making as often as previously, her rebuffs so constant these days and nights that I truly did promise myself I would become celibate!

Well, celibate with my wife, but to be natural with Mae, my mother, meant the very next morning, with the girls gone to work, I walked up behind her as she faced the stove cooking breakfast, encircled her nightie-clad waist and lightly nuzzled the back of her neck through her freshly-washed hair. She shivered and gave a sigh, and my cock jumped in my shorts towards her voluptuous behind. See: all natural so far!

I didn't push matters, though my prick did as she leaned back into me; I eased back and just told her what we had done yesterday wasn't wrong – not if we had both felt pleasure, and I had. She sighed and agreed.

I allowed my hands to lightly brush over her raised nipples, kissed her neck again, then eased away to let her continue cooking, while I went up the street to buy my newspaper.

Mae was upstairs in her own room, eating and watching her TV series when I returned, so routine took over as I opened a beer and settled down to read my paper.

By the end of the news and sports section, before turning to the business, my mind had begun to wander, reliving moments from yesterday, and this morning's feel of big, sensual breasts under the silky nightie. They were beautiful breasts, almost the mother clone of my wife's/her daughter's – perhaps not so strangely.

In turn, Mae's were a smaller clone of her own mother's, and my thoughts led to the memories of feeling those big melon-sized smooth breasts some months before....and ...doing other things remembered so well, re-awakening yearnings best left in the countryside..................

(6 months ago...) My grandmother, Pai, was about 66 years old, her husband long since passed away. She lived in the countryside, and we, the city family, took infrequent weekend trips there. I love the countryside, always have, and one time we visited, my wife, knowing I wanted to move from the city one day, insisted I stay on for a week extra while the 3 of them went home to work (my mother-in-law was still working at this time).

I happily agreed, as I had no pressing need to go home, unemployed as I was, and eager to embrace the country life for a few days. Grandmother seemed also keen to have me stay there; she often had one or other of her daughters come and stay, but this week she would have been alone, so perhaps I could help her and be useful. In more ways than one it transpired!

In one's own home in much of Asia, not wearing a shirt is ok, but not acceptable when go out in public. Pai insisted I didn't need my shirt in her house, just shorts as she knew I wore in my own home. In turn, she always wore a wrap-around skirt, and a loose shirt, her very large breasts jiggling with every move – ah, yes, I had noticed previously. They sagged a little, well they did appear pretty heavy to have carried around for so many years, but actually quite upright for her age I thought. (Must be a family trait, as her daughter's and her granddaughter's were also well upright). Pai's nipples must be large, as they were always poking out the material of her shirts.

We ate dinner outside in the cool of the evening, after the others had left for the drive home. Pai washed the dishes while I tidied, then I showered and watched a little TV while Pai, in turn, took her shower.

She came out from the bathroom, just a thin towel wrapped around, her long hair let down, almost waist length, ready for sleep – country-style: early to bed, early to rise.

I said I would close the doors, clean my teeth, and turn off everything, and also go to bed. Pai smiled, gave me a very un-Asian, totally unexpected, peck on the cheek, and headed up the stairs to the bedrooms. She was only half-way to the first landing, with me watching her go, admiring her hair, her shapely legs, tall and still-sensuous body swaying under the towel, when that towel fell off and dropped down backwards a few stairs!

A frozen few seconds as my eyes stared at what had been a towel-covered rear end suddenly turned into a really sexy bottom, the crack leading down and then opening as she rather slowly bent over, thinking the towel would be at her feet; in spreading her legs and bending, she succeeded (if that was her objective) in showing me a pair of protruding pussy lips, and her pink rosebud. My cock reacted and jumped into hardness in my shorts.

This made me jump also, jump up and run (slowly) to get her towel; as I stooped, picked it up to reach and hand to her, eyes trying and failing to avert their direction, I found she had turned around, descended 2 steps waiting for me. This meant my face, when I rose back up, was staring right at her pussy! A full thatch of brown/grey hair faced me, tantalizingly rather hiding the lips behind, but such a sexy sight.

She leaned down allowing those pendulous boobs to loll in front of my face, as she reached a hand out for her towel. "Sorry..." I mumbled, "I didn't mean to stare Pai..."

"It's ok, we're family in this house, and you're just like a son" she softly cooed, as she retrieved her towel from my hand, trailing her fingertips across my fingers in doing so. I shivered, mesmerized by guilty thoughts and sights, and marveling still at the most beautiful, 66y.o. female body I had ever seen, a body capable of turning me into a drooling, cock-throbbing, speechless teenager!

Pai seductively (it seemed to me) wrapped the towel around herself, smiled so sexily, whispered a "good night son" as she caressed a hand across my cheek, and resumed that fluid sway of her body as she continued up the stairs.

Like an automaton, I turned off the TV as I picked up speed, heading for the bathroom, where I poured some liquid soap into my hand and just had to jack off to the pictures in my head before they disappeared. I came with such intense feelings I had to sit on the toilet seat to compose myself, to stop the erotic words emanating from my mouth as I relived Pai's body open –inviting? – right there in front of me minutes ago.

Somewhat dazed, I stood, cleaned my dick and my teeth, made sure lights off and doors locked, then climbed the stairs to my bedroom.

Country nights are cool and I could only find a thin sheet as covering as I stripped off my shorts and laid on the bed, thoughts and images crowding my mind as I told myself to go to sleep. But the cold was invasive – until Pai appeared in the doorway, said "You're cold, come with me" and reached down for my hand, pulling the sheet off at the same time..."Wait Pai! I don't have any clothe..." She ignored my warning, pulled me up and led me straight across the hallway to her room, where she pushed me down and onto her bed, climbed in beside me, pulled her warm covers up, then cuddled and gently kissed me as a mother/grandmother to a child.

Except I am not a child, and the warmth and eroticism of it all soon roused my body all over, including my dick. Pai must have felt it, she rolled over and reached back to pull my body into a spooning position against her back, holding my right hand and then draping it across her chest to grasp her left breast.

I was in shock, she must have known that; she snuggled in and whispered "It has been so long since I had a man cuddle me, and it feels so nice to have you here. Don't worry, we're family, and families can share: everything." Within a moment, any bad thoughts I might have been having dissolved, replaced by a sense of bonding with this wonderful, sensuous older lady lying with her sexy body here in my arms. I changed my draping hand into a caressing one on her breast, and slid my left hand under her neck, crossing her chest from that side to caress also her right breast. Both of us sighed, both her nipples responded, and my growing cock probed between her opening legs of its own accord.

I had no idea how many years it might have been since Pai had had sex, but I knew it had been months since I had; my wife dropped her craving for sex soon after our marriage, and my attempts at forcing the issue resulted only in frustration and sadness.




Mother-In-Law Sexily Seduces Me



I started screwing my mother–in-law when I was 25 and a part time university student. I was then studying to be a psychotherapist. My mother, Yvonne was then 49 yet she looked a lot like Gillian Anderson (X-files!) but with Dolly Parton's boobs. Small in stature but she also had beautiful shapely legs which I was always sneaking a look at. My father-in-law had died a few years before in an airplane accident and she still had not tried to have another relationship, even though I could tell she was a hot-blooded woman. However since I have known her we had been best of friends and often spent a lot of time together and share many of the same interests.

I lived in a small bungalow with her daughter who had just had our first child. It was near my school, which was also not far from Yvonne’s house. Anyway I started to take a class on hypnotism. To properly learn it however I felt I needed to practice on a subject. My wife was always busy with our child and it was then that I thought of asking Yvonne. Now I had always lusted after my mother yet I never let on of my fantasy. Yet this was not what made me go to my mother-in-law to learn hypnotism... at least not consciously.

Of course my mother was happy and even excited to help. My first session with her proved a great success. She turned out to be one of those people that took almost no effort to hypnotize. Yet I found that by the end of our session that I was extremely horny and that I had a huge hard on. That night I had to masturbate three times before I could go to sleep.

The next week I tried again and because of an earlier command it was even easier to put my mother "down" than it was before. Yet this time I was curious about what I could hypnotize Yvonne to do. Could I make her do something she would not normally do "as the experts say". So this time I started by asking my mother-in-law personal questions. However I told her that it was not me she was talking to but an imaginary counsellor she was going to.

I asked her if she missed my father and she told me she did. I then asked her if she missed having sex with him? She told me she did very much. I asked her what she missed most and she told me having her pussy sucked by him. She also told me how he would squeeze her nipples whilst licking her cunt. I asked her what she did to satisfy her sexual urges now? She said that she spent a lot of time masturbating with a dildo.

I asked her why she didn't date anyone? She told me that she just didn't feel right about this and that no man interested her. I then asked her the question I was dying to ask. Did she lust after her son? She had trouble answering this question and I had to put her in a deeper state of hypnosis yet she finally did. She told me that she did sometimes but was ashamed of herself for this, as it would be cheating on her daughter. I could tell this was making her uncomfortable so I stopped questioning her about this for now. However I left the suggestion she would stop feeling guilty about this desire. I also told her that whenever she started using her dildo she would start pretending it was me who was fucking her. Of course I told her that when she woke up she would remember nothing of the latter part of our session.

To my surprise and relief it worked. She remembered nothing about what happened. When I came back a few days later however I could tell she was a little uncomfortable with me. She also found it hard to look at me without blushing. This time when I put her "down" I asked her if she had been fantasying about having her son as a lover? She admitted she did. I asked her how she felt about this and she told me that it made her hornier than she had ever been with her husband. She told me how when she thought about it she couldn't seem to get over being horny even when she masturbated till her pussy was sore. I asked her if she knew if her son-in-law also lusted for her? She told me how she had often caught me looking at her with a glint in my eye, peeking views up her skirt when she was sitting, or staring at her breasts, especially when she wore a low cut top with a Wonderbra. Yet she felt how it was unlikely that I felt that way now with marriage to her daughter. This time when I ended the session I left her with the suggestion of relaxing her guilt over her feelings even more. I also told her to start fantasying that I might also masturbate to fantasies of screwing her. I finally told her how she would fantasize that how I would fulfil all her sexual fantasies that even her husband would not do. Along this line I also told her to let her sexual imagination run wild.

When she woke up she was even more uncomfortable than before yet now she seemed to be able to look me in the eye. However her lips seem fuller, her cheeks rosier, and her breasts straighter. When next I came my mother was dressed in the sexiest clothes that I had seen her in since my father-in-law had died. She wore a tight black skirt, high-heeled sandals and a cream silk short sleeve blouse that was low cut and exposed the top edges of a lacy bra. Her legs were encased in a glowing sheen from her tan coloured stockings, and I could just make out the tell-tale bumps of suspender clips under her skirt.

Over the course of these events I had also been getting hornier and hornier and I was always restless. I could think of nothing except my next session with Yvonne.

This time when she was under I asked her to tell me what she had been dreaming of sexually. With much less hesitation than the first time, she told me how she had been lusting for her son. How she dreamed of me sucking her nipples till they were raw. How she envisioned me masturbating between her breasts and coming in her face. How she imagined me playing with her dildo in her pussy while I licked her tits.... and more. I was shocked yet unimaginably horny. I couldn't believe how wild a woman my mother-in-law had become in only a few short weeks of hypnosis.

I then decided to take a risk. I told her to pretend she was alone and horny. I then told her to describe for me what she would do. She then told me how she would get her dildo and without a thought to what I was doing. I told her that when I snapped my fingers how she would awake and not be able to see or hear me. She would then find herself incredibly horny lusting for her son to the point where she would have to masturbate until she could relinquish her fire... and then she would go back into hypnosis.

When I snapped my fingers she awoke. My heart stopped afraid that I had gone to far yet I soon saw she was looking through me. I then saw how her breathing was getting heavier and heavier. She then closed her eyes and started squeezing her breasts through her blouse. Soon she had pulled up her skirt and had one hand going down inside her pants and she started to moan. Then she was saying "Oh baby suck your mummy’s titties. That’s a good hungry baby suck them. MMMMMMM..."

Then she got up and rapidly went to her room shedding off her clothes as she went. She enticingly kept on her stockings and suspenders. When she got there she took a 7 or 8 inch dildo out of her dresser drawer along with some lubricant she had. She quickly dabbed the dildo with the cream and went to her bed. In bed she took off her bra and started playing with her large tits with her hands and using the dildo on her nipples. As she did this she was purring things like "baby, lick your mummy’s boobies" or "darling play with mummy’s juggs". Then she was soon playing with the dildo around her pussy and ass. She was rubbing so vigorously that she even had to get up to get more cream which she liberally applied to her whole bottom and cunt. Again she would moan things like "baby play with your cock along mummy’s hot ass" or "sweetheart slap your hot cock on mummy's wet pussy". She also loved watching the dildo play around her cunt as if she were watching my real cock. Soon she started playing with the dildo around her cunt pushing the dildo in a short way then letting it slide back out along her swollen sex. First tickling her clit then letting it slip into her folds a little bit. Each time going a little deeper and deeper until soon she jammed the whole rod deep into her self as she let out an animal moan.

I was found myself shaken with excitement and my cock was harder than it had ever been. I was still afraid to play with it in front of my mother but that didn't keep it from pulsing with heat and spilling pits of cum into my underwear.

Soon my mother was jamming the dildo in and out of her like a steam engine begging her baby soon to fuck his mother-in-law until she came in a series of orgasms that seem to shake her to her roots. Then she was under hypnosis again. I told Yvonne to get dressed, yet I let her remember her masturbation although I told her she had done it before I had come over. I also suggested that she lose her inhibitions about her sexual feelings towards her son-in-law plus that she would start considering seducing me. When she woke up she seem to have a fire in her eyes and she looked at me in a way that I had never seen before. It was then that I thought that maybe I had gone to far and thought about stopping this dangerous game. Yet I left and told her that I would see her the next day.

The next day I came over and she had a wonderful dinner set up for me with candles and a couple bottles of expensive red wine. She kissed me when I came in, in a way that did not seem very motherly. Over dinner I told her that I thought I no longer need to use her to practice my hypnotism. She smile over her wine and asked me if I accomplished all that I had wanted with my "homework" and for a second I thought that maybe I had been caught. My nervousness however made me drink more than I ever had. After dinner, as it was a warm summer evening, we sat out in her porch in her large swing hearing the night sounds and watching the stars. Then she surprised me by lighting up a joint and passing it to me. I never imagined my demure mother smoking pot yet she told me that occasionally it loosened her up and opened up her mind.

I was soon fairly stoned. I was lusting for my mother again with all my past vigour but with my guilt drifting away. When she told me she was hot and opened up her blouse, I stared at her huge soft tits hanging down her chest just waiting to be touched and played with. She asked me if I liked them and I think the way my eyes were bulging and the sausage in my pants answered her question. She then started talking to me about if I thought it was wrong for a mother-in-law and son-in-law to be lovers as her hands played over my crotch. I told her that I thought that as long as two adults wanted the same thing, and it didn't hurt others, that I thought it would be beautiful. She told me how much she needed a man but that since my father-in-law died she could find no interest in other men except her son-in-law and if I hated her for that? She also wanted to know if I could take my father-in-law's place? 

In answer I started to play with her tits. She soon pushed me head down unto them moaning as she did. "Mummy wants to fuck her little boy", she said. "Mummy wants to be dirty and bad with her son". As I sucked and licked and pressed her tits all over my face I found her hands stripping me of my clothes. When my bulging cock jumped out of my pants she grabbed it and held it in her hands as if it pulsed her whole system with pleasure. She then hiked her skirt above her hips and I was mesmerised by her black stocking tops and black lace suspenders. She then drove me into her pussy and howled with pleasure as she rubbed her pussy vigorously up and down my shaft. Within minutes she was trembling and shaking as she moaned, "I'm coming. Your horny mother is coming. My baby’s big dick is making me commmmmmmmmmmme.

She then collapsed on top of me and started crying. Through her tears she asked me to forgive her. She told me she didn't know what had come over her. Yet the last few weeks she couldn't stop lusting over me and dreaming about fucking me. She asked me to please not hate her. Yet in reply I kissed her tears. Then I kissed her. Yet my kiss conveyed my hunger to her and my mouth opened hers while my tongue searched for her. I also started rocking my still hard cock against the lace material of her knickers, then I pulled the material to one side exposing her dripping cunt until she was soon rocking with me. I then grabbed her tits and rolled her erect nipples with my fingers, which made her start to moan again. She then looked and me and smiled. She said, "My horny son wants to fuck his old lady doesn't he?" I smiled and squeezed her gorgeous tits even harder. Then a thought came to her and she asked, "Did my dirty son hypnotize his horny mother-in-law into screwing him?" When she saw my guilty look she squeezed my cock inside her and said she was glad because she had gone without a good man to long. She also told me this was the best sex she had ever had and now that I had ruined her I would always have to be her wild lover.

With that we led each other into an evening of the hottest sex I had ever had. It also got better and better every time we did it. We have now been fucking for over 10 years now and even though Yvonne is over 60, she is still the sexiest woman I have ever seen and the sight of her in her high heels, stockings and suspenders and push-up bra can make me almost cum in my pants. Yvonne has recently hinted on letting her daughter ‘join us’ but I’m not convinced that hypnosis would work so well twice – although I may one day just chance my luck!!



Mother-in-Law Stays for a Week



The burgeoning sexual relationship between my mother and I, as highlighted in my two previous submissions, was about to rise to even dizzier heights. 

About a month after the first intitial sexual encounter with my mother, my wife informed me after work one day, that her dad was going out of town for work for about a week and that maybe it would be a good idea if we invited her mother Marilyn to stay with us while he was gone. She explained that she and her mom hadn't gotten to spend much time together lately and this would give them a chance to do just that. Of course, I heartily agreed with her that this was a good idea, trying to hide my arousal at her suggestion.

A whole week of secret glances, touches, kisses, gropes and undoubtedly, a whole lot more. I thought life couldn't possibly get any better.

Day 1

Marilyn arrived at our house at around 10:00 Monday morning. I was the first to greet her at the door. The unseasonably warm weather allowed Marilyn to dress in a pair of shorts which showed off her tan legs. Unlike her daughter, whose skin was fair as porcelain, Marilyn's skin was always a sexy, olive brown. Immediately, upon seeing Marilyn, I took her suitcases and hearing Linzie's approaching voice, contained myself to a polite peck on the cheek.

"Hi, mom, it's so good to have you here," Linzie greeted with a hug.

"It really is, Marilyn," I smiled at her looking her directly in the eye and gave her my own big hug, feeling her chest press up against me.

Other pleasantries were exchanged. I took Marilyn's suitcases to the guest bedroom while Linzie readied breakfast.

Other than a few knowing glances and some footsie while Linzie was busy preparing the meal, it was a rather uneventful morning. After breakfast, Marilyn and I did manage to steal a moment alone. She had went to her room to unpack, while Linzie was busy with the laundry, I snuck into the extra bedroom with Marilyn and shut the door.

Upon seeing each other, we giggled like two teenagers in love for the first time. I caressed her cheek and moved my lips towards hers. As my hand rested upon her hip, our tongues swam in unison as if our mouths were always supposed to have been connected. Just as my hand moved up her shirt, I heard my wife's voice call out, "Honey, can you help me with something!" Alas, the passion between us momentarily halted, I kissed Marilyn deeply just a bit longer, and then headed off to help my wife.

The afternoon ended up being quite disappointing as Linzie had suggested a girls shopping trip with her mother. Marilyn feigned excitement, her mind, like mine was elsewhere. So while the girls went out for a few hours shopping, I sat in my recliner watching to TV, trying to think of something else besides the rock hard cock in my pants that was dying to be inside my mother again. 

The women got back around 5 and soon it was dinner time. Once again, just a little footsie. My efforts to get some alone time with Marilyn, always seeming to be thwarted unintentionally by my wife. 

After dinner, the three of us sat down to watch some TV. Linzie and I sat on the love seat and Marilyn in the recliner a few feet away. As we talked and watched television, I could feel the pre-cum leaking from me in anticipation. After Linzie goes to bed, we should be able to sneak in a quickie I hoped. But could we be quiet enough?

As Linzie rested her head on my shoulder, my arm around her, I got a naughty idea. What would Marilyn do if I started fondling her daughter right now? What would Linzie do? Slowly, but surely, I moved my hand from rubbing Linzie's shoulder, down her arm, letting my pinky finger graze her nipple ever time my hand came down. Her nipple began to get harder with ever graze. Pretty soon the grazes were turning to letting all my fingers run across her breast, and soon their was cuppage. 

Meanwhile, I looked over at Marilyn, waiting for her to look over at what I was doing to her daughter. Eventually, her eyes caught what I was doing, and she quickly turned away out of nervousness...or maybe jealousy.

I took my hand and stuck it inside my wife's shirt, which was a little to far for my wife's tastes with her mother sitting next to us. She pushed my hand away, and I new the fun was over, at least momentarily. 

At about 10:00, Linzie said she was getting pretty tired and wanted to get to work early, so she was heading to bed. Yes! I thought silently, now is my chance. But when my wife said, "Ben, you look pretty tired too, you better come to bed," I knew my wife had something up her own sleeve. Of all nights she had to pick to be horny! Well, if I can get out of their quick enough, I can still have something left for Marilyn. 

"Need anything before we go to bed mom?"

"No," but I knew in her eyes she needed the very thing that her daughter was about to be getting. 

As my wife led me by the hand to the bedroom, I turned to Marilyn and mouthed, "I'll be back."

Of course sex with the wife wasn't immediate. There was the inevitable brushing of the teeth, getting the next day's clothes ready, and chit chat.

When we finally got into bed, my wife laid down upon her back, and I immediately climbed on top of her. "Hey, not so fast!" come here she said, pulling my lips towards hers. We kissed. My wife wasn't a bad kisser, but she was no match for her mother. I kissed her a few more times and then again tried to put my cock inside her, hoping to fuck her hard and fast and be done as quickly as possible. But once again she stopped me. "Kiss my breasts." I reluctanltly complied and brought my lip to her nipple, flicking it across and circling it with my tongue, messaging her other tit with my hand.

I kissed Linzie's neck a few times and once again made my move to begin to fuck her. This time she let me enter her. I think the fondling out in the living room had turned her on because she was sopping wet. My cock slid easily into her big pussy. I started out with a few short thrusts, but it didn't take me long to start to get into full-fledge fucking. I watched my wife's tits bounce with ever thrust getting turned on by her moans which seemed to be louder than ever before. Was she trying to make her mother hear her? It sure seemed that way. Our bedroom wasn't that far away from the living room and it wouldn't be that hard to hear us as loud as Linzie was moaning. The idea Marilyn was sitting out in that chair listening to me fuck her daughter was starting to really turn me on also. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me baby!" Whoa! It wasn't like my wife to talk dirty to me, something really had her going tonight. At the pace I was going, thrusting hard, fast and deep, I knew I couldn't last long. With a final deep thrust, I couldn't help but let out a loud, "Oh fuck!" as I came deep in my wife's pussy. As several loads of semen shot inside her, my wife sighed, "Oh baby. Oh baby. You're so good."

I collapsed on top of her, drained. Come on Ben, I thought to myself, you gotta have something left for 57-year-old piece of ass waiting for you in the other room. "Stay inside me. Stay inside me as long as you can," my wife said as she ran her fingers up and down my back. I lay there in her arms, waiting for my chance to get off of her and make my way to Marilyn. But I waited, and waited, hoping my wife would fall asleep, and as I waited my eyes grew heavier and heavier until I could keep them open no longer. As I drifted off to sleep, all I could think about was the disappointment of Marilyn waiting and waiting for me. 

When my eyes finally opened again, it was 7 the next morning. I was going to have to make it up to my mother.



Mother in Law Submits Again



When Fiona arrived home from work we acted as nothing had happened this morning mainly because Alan was at home from another heavy session down the boozer. He as normal gave Fiona a load of shit before eventually stumbling up the stairs where we listened to him crash into a few things before bombing out on his and Fiona's bed.

After about five minutes Alan was snoring so loudly we could both hear him downstairs, it was at this point I noticed the atmosphere change a little in an uncomfortable way. We were now alone again and the tension could of easily been cut with a knife.

Fiona left the front room and went into the kitchen and I could hear her rummaging around in the cupboards for no reason other than to stay out of the same room as me. I got up and went into the kitchen as I had one thing on my mind and that was to see if this morning was more than a one off.

I walked up behind Fiona and I felt her tense up as I placed both my hands on her bum over her tight skirt.

"We can't," she whispered "This morning was...." I cut her off mid-sentence.

"Ssssh Fiona," I said hooking my fingers under the bottom of her skirt and eventually raising it up her thighs until it was in a bunched heap around her waist. My hands were now rubbing over her knickers and buttocks and down the outside of her stocking covered legs.

"Stop this can't happen again," she again whispered but with very little conviction in her voice.

I continued caressing Fiona but was now reaching round her ample chest to unbutton her blouse. Once this was done and every button was open I pulled the front of her bra down and let her huge tits fall free. I took a nipple in each finger and thumb and pulled them and rolled them until both her nipples were hard and standing erect.

Next I rolled her knickers down away from her pussy and down her thighs until they were around her knees like this morning. The smell of this morning's sex was now lingering in the air as Fiona's pussy was now uncovered again. 

"Open your legs," I whispered in to her right ear and she shuffled her feet apart just like this morning until her knickers could stretch no more. I slid my hand between her legs and was pleased to find her already moist to touch so two fingers disappeared in to her hole with ease. "Your mouth tells me one thing Fiona but your body tells me another, you're soaking for my cock again aren't you?" I asked with a smile on my face.

"We can't," she said.

Again I cut her off mid-sentence "We can Fiona and we will," I said a little louder in her ear with a little bit more of a meaningful tone.

And I pushed myself back and a little and pulled my joggers and boxers down. My cock sprung out and hit Fiona on her bare arse. She gasped as she felt my dick her naked flesh. 

"Step back from the side a little Fiona and bend forward," I instructed her.

Fiona shuffled back a little, maybe a foot and bent forward resting her head on the kitchen counter leaving her tits swinging below her. I stroked my shaft a few times and when it was fully erect I positioned it at the entrance to Fiona's pussy and prepared to enter her again. 

I pushed inside her opening her cunt like I had this morning and filling her completely, she stifled her squeal and groan by biting on her own hand.

"Alan wont wake Fiona he's long gone," I said before pulling out and driving back inside her with a powerful thrust that nearly caused her to lose her balance.

She had to take her hand out of her mouth and use both hands to support herself on the work surface as I increased the speed and power of my thrusts.

She began to come for the first time about seven minutes in to our second fuck and as she took her hand away to fill her both I smashed her three times really hard so that she toppled towards the side slipping her left hand off the side. She was now bent at waist with her head closer to her knees her tits squashing in to her legs. 

She had little option but to remove her hand and place it on the floor with her left hand so that she could support herself as I held her by the waist and hammered her hole with all I had. She'd almost shuffled into the corner of the kitchen units and was using them as a sort of balancing aid as well. 

Fiona came again this time with total wanton abandonment, unable to supress her squeals as my dick didn't relent at all even though she was shaking on her legs as her violent orgasm shook her body. Her cunt was soaked and my cock was pummelling in and out with ease now that she'd came twice. 

Once she'd regained her composure I wanted to move in to the front room so removed my cock with a noisy squelch.

"Get in the dining room," I said pushing her towards the kitchen door.

I watched as she had to take awkward small steps with her knickers still round her knees, but she eventually made it and stood in the middle of the room.

I walked in and shoved some of the things aside that were on the dining table and then led Fiona to it and pushed her forwards on to it squashing her tits in to the cold wood.

"Not here please Alan's above us," Fiona pleaded whilst looking back at me over her shoulder.

"Like I said Fiona he's dead to the world he won't hear a thing," I assured her "Now spread those legs for me."

Her legs open and again my target was in sight so I wasted no more time and entered her again and set about fucking her hard, I wanted to make her come again as Alan slept in the room above us, so made every effort I could to make her come before I lost my own load.

Just as I felt my nuts tighten I felt Fiona's cunt muscles constrict around my cock and the same long groan began coming from her mouth and I knew that she was about to orgasm. I fucked as hard as fast as I could and just as my cocked twitched and unloaded she cried out loudly as her orgasm hit home. I couldn't stop as I wanted her to moan long and loud so even as I lost my own load I carried on sliding in to her.

My come being pulled and pushed in to her hole as it spewed my balls contents in to her during my thrusts.as soon as I'd emptied in her I pulled out and stood behind watching my semen ooze from her gaping pussy and run down her thighs.

"Not a peep from upstairs Fiona I told you he was out for the count now join me on the sofa" I said already shuffling over to the big canvas corner sofa with my own joggers round my ankles.

Fiona joined me a moment later.

"Did you enjoy that Fiona?" I asked whilst stroking her left breast and playing with her nipple.

"Yes," she replied.

"There is just one more thing I want you to do before I go up to bed," I said.

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

"I want you to suck me off and swallow every last drop of my sperm," I told Fiona.

She looked at me for a moment and then dropped her head to my dick and began giving me a fantastic blowjob which culminated in me blowing a huge load down her throat within ten minutes. And like a come starved whore she swallowed the lot down.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said as I jumped up and dressed leaving her on the couch half undressed and leaking my sperm.



Mother-In-Law Surprise



For many years Jon had kept a couple of secrets from his wife - that he "likes" lingerie, and that he fancies her mum. After a while, he managed to broach the lingerie subject with her, she was never fully happy with him wearing her bra's, but put up with it on occasion. He never ever dared tell her of his other secret.

A couple of years back, Jon's wife and her mum were going to Portugal to visit family. Jon managed to tag along at the last minute, and all 3 ended up sharing a hotel room (Jon on the sofa). One night, after a game of cards, Jon retired to the sofa and turned off his light. To his surprise, his mother started undressing in front of him. He wasn't sure if she knew what she was doing and pretended not to look, but managed to glimpse her beautiful breasts. Ever since then he has wanted to touch them.

A year later, Jon and his wife were asked to house sit while her mum went on another holiday. One day, on his way home from work, Jon took the chance to pop in, and knowing no one would disturb him he carefully searched his mothers bedroom until he found what he was looking for - her underwear draw. He slowly worked his way through the entire collection of bra's and negligees before retiring to the bathroom and relieving himself. Having made sure he put everything back how he found it, he then left.

Later that summer, his mother asked him to come round and help her in the garden. After a day of digging flower beds, moving rubble and cutting down trees they were both very tired and very dirty, so when they were finished they both had a shower. When Jon came out of the shower, he heard her call him from her bedroom. Wrapped in just his towel, he knocked on the door and she beckoned him in. "My back and neck really hurt from all that work, do you think you could give me a massage?" she asked. Jon readily agreed, and suggested it would be more effective if she removed her blouse so he could rub in some lotion. To his astonishment she agreed, and with her back to him she took off her blouse and laid face down on the bed. Jon felt a slight twitch under his towel and he knelt on the bed behind her, straddling her as he did. He reached forward to pick up the bottle of lotion on the side table, allowing his stiffening cock to press against his mother-in-laws bottom, and apologised for squashing her and not picking it up first. She replied that it was okay and he squeezed a small amount of lotion out of the bottle and started gently, but firmly rubbing it into her neck, shoulders and lower back whilst maneuvering around her bra straps. It was then he got his next shock, she said he could undo her bra if it would make it any easier. Jon eagerly did so, trying hard to pretend he was embarrassed at the thought. 

After about 15-20 minutes of an invigorating massage she suggested she return the favour, and somehow she extracted herself from underneath him and was round behind him in a flash. She took the bottle of lotion and started rubbing it into Jon's back, pushing him into the bed as she did so. It was then Jon's cock became rock hard, because as he hit the bed he felt something dig into his chest and immediately recognised it as the underwires from her bra. His brain raced, that meant that she was topless behind him, he thought. He glanced sideways into the mirror on the side table and sure enough, she was straddling him with nothing on above the waist. Slowly she leant forward, until her nipples were grazing his back. He couldn't help himself and let out a little moan. Just then, she moved closer and started to whisper in his ear. "I know you fancy me" she said, "I can see it in the way you look at me, constantly trying to sneak a peek down my blouse when I bend down. Don't deny it," she continued, "I know you watched me undress in Portugal, and I felt how stiff you were when you bent over to pick up the lotion." Then she said "I had an interesting conversation with your wife the other day..." Jon just lay there, his cock fit to burst with his semi naked mother straddling him, "... she told me that you liked her lingerie, is this true?" She asked, and at the same time grabbed both ends of the bra and fastened behind Jon's back. Shocked, Jon tried to answer but couldn't speak - his mother-in-law had just tricked him into wearing her bra in front of her. "It's okay Jon," she said, "I thought you might be a little lost for words. If what your wife tells me is true, then put your arms through the straps and wear my bra with pride." Jon was unsure of what was happening, but didn't need telling twice and eagerly slipped his arms through the bra-straps. It was only now he really noticed the bra properly, a very sexy deep purple lace balconette. She reached round and gently massaged his nipples through her bra, "What does it feel like to wear your mother-in-laws bra? Does that feel good?" she asked. Jon just nodded and moaned lightly. And then she dropped the bombshell. "I know this isn't the first time you have worn my bra's" Jon's heart stopped. "It's okay Jon," she continued, still caressing his nipples, "you should have asked me though. Alright, I suppose it isn't the easiest thing to ask your mother-in-law if you can wear her underwear. But you didn't ask when you rifled my through draws when I was on holiday. And before you try and deny it, I set up a motion sensing camera before I left."

"Now," she continued, "It is time for your punishment!" She ripped Jon's towel from around his waist exposing his rigid member. As she gently caressed Jon's cock she whispered in his ear "If you are a good 'girl' mummy will let you fuck her, but you must be a good 'girl'!" She squirted some lotion on his backside and slipped a finger in his anus. Jon winced slightly, but didn't fight. "You should have searched the room more thoroughly Jon," she said menacingly, "if you had you might have found this..." and she lifted her skirt revealing a large double ended dildo, that was already inside her as far as it would go, and instantly pressed it into Jon's bottom. Jon winced a bit more, but all he could find himself saying was "Fuck me, fuck me hard!" and she willingly obliged.



Mother Sweet



DISCLAIMER: The following work is another homage (see: Executive Ass.'t) to the writing of Literotica's TheTalkMan, an author whose writing I thoroughly enjoy and encourage you to check out. As such, this story includes such themes as, cheating, betrayal, cuckqueaning, some light femdom, reluctant sex, sex with an, and evil. Evil evil, E-VIL. IF THESE THEMES ARE NOT TO YOUR LIKING, do not continue to read, or, if you do, don't complain that the story wasn't written to your liking. You have been forewarned.

*****

"I can't believe we're finally landowners!" Michael Woods stood on the front lawn, looking up at the house, the vinyl siding gleaming white in the sun. A mature oak shaded the big bay window of the living room, but none of the four bedrooms. He immediately began manhandling the realtor's sign out of the turf.

"I can't believe you talked me into that," Kendra motioned at the French window over the garage adjoining the house.

"What?" He said in disbelief. "Are you joking? It's a perfect little guest room with its own bath and everything. Yeah, it shares a wall with the Master, but Nance said it's totally soundproofed, so privacy's not an issue." Mike waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at his young wife.

"I really wish you wouldn't call her that," she clucked her tongue.

"She asked me to," he said. "She's your family friend, anyway. She even gave us a break on the fees."

"It's just...familiar," Kendra huffed, agitated now. "Besides, she's not a family friend, she used to be a friend of my mother's, and the less said about her the better."

"Anyway, what's the problem with the room?"

"I dunno," her brow furrowed. "The name, I guess. How can it be a Mother suite? My mother in law passed away when you were five, and I haven't seen your mother-in-law since before we met. It's weird. Just thinking about it give me the heebiejeebies."

Mike tossed the sign aside, and walked over to hug his wife. "Ken, it's just a name. It doesn't mean anything. It's not going to summon your mother - though I would like to meet her one day - and we can call it the guest suite or the hobby room or the Velvet Lounge, if you like. Cheer up!" He motioned expansively. "All this is ours! All this space, all this green, all these rooms we can fill up with babies or puppies or balloons or any damn thing we please. No more walkups, no more street noise, no more-"

"...creepy landlords," Kendra supplied.

"No more creepy landlords, or throwing rent money into a shitty two-bedroom apartment we'd never own." He held her face in his hands. "We're finally starting our grownup life."

Kendra's arms slid around him. "I guess things are looking up, after all." She smiled, and pulled him closer. "Well, one thing is definitely up, anyway."

He grinned. "Wanna see how many rooms we can 'christen' today?"

They ran into the house hand-in-hand, giddy and elated.

* * *

Nancy Perillo had, in fact, known Kendra Woods (nee Valentine) her entire life, watching her blossom from a mousy, nervous little girl into a mousy, nervous, unremarkable young woman. She had also, as Mike said, waived a portion of her commission for the purchase of their home; she hadn't told them that she'd also been representing the seller of the house, and took home a hefty commission from the sale of it as well.

She'd even told Mike to call her 'Nance,' a courtesy she'd never extended to Kendra, or ever would. But then, he was a strapping man half her age and much better looking than his shrinking violet of a wife. For Nancy, the attraction had been immediate from the moment the young couple had walked into her office, all wide-eyed and naive. She had given Mike's lean, muscular frame more than a casual glance, taking in his vigor and assessing what he'd be like in bed. Excellent, was the first impression; and he wouldn't have been the first young husband to fall victim to the realtor's well-aged charms. In fact, it usually wasn't long after their first meeting that husbands were making excuses to view properties alone with 'Nance,' particularly after they took a measure of the length of her legs, the brevity of her skirts, and the ample assets hidden underneath her smartly-tailored blazer. Mike, to his credit, didn't even seem to notice her silky blond tresses (shot through with an artful streak of gray), or the glossy plumpness of her mouth. He had eyes only for his wife.

It had taken her almost a minute to notice Kendra was even there, and another minute to realize she was Vivien's daughter.

That had, for once, taken Nancy aback. It was one thing to fuck strapping young men while their wives were picking out window treatments. It was another thing entirely to do it to her best friend's daughter. Not that she ever stopped thinking about it, of course, but even Nancy had her limits. The fact that Vivien was a cutthroat, predatory bitch was probably also a determining factor. A very rich, cutthroat, predatory bitch who happened to to be buying up property on the East Side...

Nancy hit the intercom on her desk.

"Tom-mmmmmy," she cooed. "Can you step in here a minute, please?"

The real estate firm's handsome young intern came galloping in through her door. All his forward momentum came to a halt as he caught sight of Nancy's hand, gently fingering her blouse, unbuttoned far enough to expose a generous helping of well-aged, mature cleavage.

"Yes Mrs. Pirello?" He asked after a long second.

"Can you be a dear and get Vivien Valentine from Valentine Holdings on the phone for me?"

"Um..." he said, watching her fingers slide along the silk. Every now and again he'd catch a glimpse of the lacy pink bra underneath. "Yes?"

"Good!" Nancy leaned back, and kicked her feet up on the desk, revealing miles of leg. She dangled one tall, tan pump from her foot. He stared for a moment, then blinked and reluctantly turned to go.

"Oh, Tommy?" She called, reeling him back. "Are you still seeing that little girl down in accounting?"

"Um," he watched her shoe twitch back and forth. "Janey, yeah. We've been steady for a while now."

"Riiight," Nancy said. "Plain Jane. You know, I don't think she's right for you."

"What?" He said, suddenly snapped out of his trance.

"No, honey. A boy like you needs someone who can take him in hand," Nancy sat up, and leaned over. The yawning cavern of her cleavage drew his eyes like a magnet. "Someone with a little experience in life, someone who knows what a boy needs, someone who can lead and mold him." She let the unspoken conclusion hang in the air. All Tom could do was stare at her enormous, mature chest.

"Anyway," she sat back. "Why don't you go and run my little errand, and think about it?"

"Um, sure. I mean, yes Mrs. Pirello." He took a last longing glance, and left, closing the door behind him. Nancy watched him go, and felt a delicious warmth growing between her thighs.

* * *

"Hey," Mike nudged Kendra as they lounged in the bed, admiring the crown moldings. "Wanna go again?"

"Jeez." She whapped him with a pillow. "Again?"

"Yeah, I figure we haven't properly christened these new sheets yet til we've fuc-"

"Mike," she cut him short. "You know I don't like that word."

He laughed. "Okay, fine. Until we've made love in them a few more..."

"Honey, I'm tired and I'm kind of sore after that last time." She sighed and rolled into him. "We've done 'it' almost every day this week. Maybe we can give it a rest for a few days?"

"Oh yeah? Well, how about I-"

* DINGDONGADINGDONG*

"Is that really what the doorbell sounds like?" Kendra asked. Mike laughed.

"We'll have to change that, I guess. Shall I go or do you wanna?" He gestured towards the door.

* DINGDONGADINGDONG*

"I would, but my robe is over there." She looked at him and pouted. "Pleeeeeease?"

"Alright, alright," he said, whapping her lightly with a pillow.

* DINGDONGADINGDONG*

"Jesus, those Girl Scouts are impatient," Mike said. He swung himself out of the bed and jumped into a pair of pajama pants. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" he shouted, galloping down the stairs as the doorbell went off again.

"Hold your goddamn horses, I'm cum-" he opened the door, and the rest of the words fell out of his brain.

The woman standing on the doorstep snapped her compact shut, and slid it into the pink clutch dangling from an elbow. For the first time, Mike found himself looking up into a woman's eyes, as she towered a couple of inches above his own height. They were green, under a sweep of deep auburn hair that coiled and looped and tumbled lazily down her shoulders. A brief leather jacket was hung around her shoulders, underneath which she wore a simple black t-shirt; the Ray-Bans dangling from the v-neck naturally drew Mike's eye downwards, but that was gilding the lily. The clingy jersey was stretched taut by her sizable chest, and he could just make out the scalloped lace of the bra she wore underneath through the fabric. A smile played at the corner of her plush mouth, painted a shimmering pink.

"Um-" said Mike.

"You must be my new son," the woman said. Her eyes raked him up and down, and Mike was suddenly very aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Nancy did say you were a cutie." She swept in past him in a cloud of perfume. "Be a good boy and bring my bags in, won't you? They're in the car" Her hair brushed his face as she strode by, and he turned his head involuntarily to watch her strut, her impossibly long, lethal-looking legs flashing past in skintight olive jeans that did nothing to hide the sinuous curves of her ass. The tall heels of her black leather ankle boots tik-tok'ed ominously on the hardwood. An enormous red Hummer sat in his driveway, the back door open to reveal a host of bloated suitcases.

"Wait, what?" Mike shook his head, and wheeled around in the doorway, closing the door behind him. She stood at the foot of the stairs, one hand cocked on her hip, clutch dangling; brightly-colored nails sank just a little into the perfectly-rounded flesh of her left buttock. She tapped her foot impatiently.

"Where is that girl?" The woman asked, glancing around. "Ken? Kendra, sweetheart, it's your mother!"

Mike's breath caught in his throat. "Mrs...Valentine?" She glanced back at him over her shoulder.

"Oh, you don't have to be so formal, honey." Kendra's mother said with a smile. "You may call me Vivien, for the time being. Now weren't you supposed to be doing something for me?"

"Vivien, I don't think that Kendra's-"

"MOTHER!" Kendra appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a long white terrycloth robe. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" She came galloping down, feet hardly touching a stair on the way. "HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND US? MIKE! DID YOU LET HER IN!?"

"Um-" was all Mike got out before Kendra started yelling again.

"GOD DAMMIT MIKE!" He took a step towards her, concern written across his features. "DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME."

"Um-"

"Michael, honey." He felt Vivian's hand on his arm. Her voice was smooth as silk, but Mike could hear the steel in it. "Why don't you step outside while us girls have a little family heart-to-heart?" She gave him a gentle push towards the door.

Suddenly, Mike was standing outside watching as his own front door was slammed shut in his face. There was a *click* as the deadbolt slid into place. Raised voices could be heard behind it.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked nobody in particular. The opened door of the Hummer beckoned him from the driveway. He cast one last look towards the front door, sighed in a resigned fashion, and went to work pulling the first bag out.

There were three large Burberry suitcases and a single smaller carry-on bag, packed solid with clothes. It took Mike fifteen minutes of sweating and struggling to get them around to the unlocked back door after his knocks at the front produced nothing. He pushed the door open and poked his head inside. At least the shouting had stopped.

"Helloooo? Ken? Kendra?" With a grunt, he heaved the first bag through the back door. "Mrs. Val- I mean, Vivien?"

"In here, Michael dear." His mother called from within. Pulling the luggage by its handle through the house, he poked his head into the living room. There, on the couch, mother and daughter were hugging it out. Vivien had her arms wrapped around Mike's wife, and was gently stroking her hair.

"Everything okay?" He asked. Kendra nodded silently. Her eyes looked red and her hair was a disheveled mess, particularly in comparison to Vivien's own silken auburn mane.

"Why don't you carry my bags up to the guest room Michael?" Vivien turned her head to regard him. "We're having a little heart-to-heart here." She turned back to hug her daughter, and the hem of her t-shirt rose up out of the back of her jeans, revealing a long slice of creamy flesh at her lower back; Mike glimpsed some intricate scroll-work around the dimples that framed her tail-bone, and immediately looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah, I uh, I'll be back," he stumbled out of the living room. His mother had a tramp stamp! Kendra didn't have any ink, but there was her own mother, tatted up like some co-ed. Mike hefted the handle of the bag he'd dragged in, and began lugging it up over the stairs. Idly, he wondered what Vivien's tattoo looked like. Something tasteful and girly, probably - a butterfly or a tree in bloom - then he realized that he'd been trying to visualize his mother-in-law's ink, and tried to shake the vision away. The spell was broken when the bag finally hit the top stair, and there was just the tiniest ripping sound as if extremely expensive fibers had given way just a fraction.

Mike froze, cursed, then gave the bag a quick once-over. There didn't seem to be anything amiss. Gingerly, silently praying to whomever would listen, he extended the handle and began pulling the bag down the hallway. Halfway down, there was another tiny sound - this time, metallic. He stopped, and fell to one knee beside the bag. It was probably worth more than he made in a month, and there was no way he'd be able to replace it right now.

Closer inspection showed that the zipper had given way on one side, less than an inch or so. He could see a riot of brightly colored fabric just inside. Standing up again, he gingerly pulled it down the hall, even more slowly than before. When he got to the lintel of the guest suite at the end, Mike decided not to tempt fate, and lifted the bag up by the bottom; he gently laid it down on the floor, and gave a quiet crow of triumph.

His elation was cut short by the tik-tik-tik-tiktiktik-tiktiktiktiktik of the zipper's teeth as they all gave way in a cascading failure. He didn't even have time to curse before the top of the bag was pushed open by the pressure of the bag's contents, and they all came tumbling out in a heap on the floor. Before Mike even knew what he was doing, he was back down on hands and knees, frantically scooping up Vivien's belongings and trying to stuff them back into the case. It all seemed to be scraps of lace and nylon and silk and-

He held one up in both hands. It was a thong, in shimmering gold nylon, scarcely enough fabric for an eye patch, with the most delicate lace scalloping in the back. A tiny metal tag along the waistband read "La Perla." Absently, he rubbed the fabric between his fingers - it was richer, sumptuous almost, than Kendra's plan white Hanes. The tag of a lacy pink pair waved up at him, reading "Agent Provocateur." A pair of lavender boyshorts with a tie-dye lace waistband screamed "LOVE PINK."

He ran his hands through the pile in wonderment: he'd never seen such an assortment in his life. Kendra owned one pair of cheap leopard-print briefs for "special nights" (that he was pretty sure she'd chucked shortly after they got married), and her mother apparently traveled with more thongs than Kendra had underwear.

"See something you like, Michael dear?" He looked up to see Vivien standing in the doorway, a bemused smile playing on her plush lips.

"Oh, shit no! I'm sorry I'm so sorry!" He began scooping the panties back into the carry-on at double speed, creating more mess than he'd started with. "The zipper broke and then everything just kind of," he gestured helplessly at the pile of underwear. Vivien toed the pink Provocateurs with her bootie and lifted them off the ground.

"You sure you weren't rifling through your mother's underwear, Michael?" Vivien dangled the panties in front of him. They swayed gently on the polished leather. "Looking for something naughty, perhaps?"

"Um...no? That would-" His eyes were locked on the silky scrap of fabric. His fingers tingled with the memory of how they felt. "That would be wrong."

"Very wrong, darling." Vivien kicked them into his lap. "I'm practically your mother, after all. But I'm sure you would have seen them at some point." She let the words hang in the air for a moment. "I'm going to be here for a little while, and Kendra tells me you're the one who does the laundry. I suppose it's just as well that you get it out of your system now: I'd hate to find any of them missing."

"Hey listen," he rose to one knee. "I'm not sure what you're-"

Vivien kicked another pair at him, and Mike immediately fell back to both knees to catch them. "It's okay, Michael, dear. I'm sure you've never seen anything like these. My daughter's tastes do not exactly align with mine." She gave him an appraising look. "Most of the time, anyway. Kendra's always had somewhat...simple tastes, like a little girl. I prefer the finer things in life, more...complex pleasures that she's never really understood. I came here assuming the two of you were more or less the same, but perhaps I was wrong about you."

Mike was suddenly aware that his fingers were fondling the slick black panties she'd kicked at him. "Hey, I'm not like that." He dropped them. "I really don't understand what's going on here, but I'm not sure I like it." He began to rise from the floor again.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Michael." She waved her hand dismissively. "It's perfectly normal for a strapping young man like yourself to yearn for something more complex, more mature. My daughter is simply a case of arrested development, but perhaps there's still hope for you."

"I'm sorry your bag broke," he said firmly. "I'll pay to replace it if you like. I'll go get the rest and then this conversation is over."

"Of course," Vivien stood aside so he could leave. "Your house is your castle. Except my little annex in here - my little queendom. Please do remember to knock when you come back up. I'd hate to be caught in a...compromising position." He strode out, and the door shut firmly behind him.

Mike was halfway down the stairs before he realized he had a prodigious erection tenting his pajama pants.

* * *

He didn't see Vivien again til later that evening, not even after he'd struggled the rest of her luggage up the stairs. He'd just left them by her door and knocked; she didn't emerge to retrieve them until after he'd gone back downstairs. She made Mike uncomfortable to say the least, but her effect on Kendra was startling - after their little tete-a-tete in the living room, Ken had retreated to the living room to silently watch reruns of House Hunters International in her flannel pajamas. She didn't seem sad or angry, just kind of numb; Kendra wouldn't even answer his questions when he asked about what her mother had said or how long she was planning to stay. She seemed so out of it that he couldn't even work up the frustration to get mad at her.

It wasn't until he was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, that he heard the pad of bare feet on the linoleum and felt a pair of arms encircle his waist.

"Honey, I'm glad you decided to come out of your funk," Mike turned around to find himself staring straight into Vivien's vivid green eyes.




Mother Sweet



"Kendra's still out on the couch, vegetating." Vivien smirked. "I'm afraid you'll have to contend with me." She gave him a lingering squeeze and stepped away. His mother had dressed "down" for dinner, easing into a loose, heather-gray tunic and a pair of bright blue Nike cropped leggings; her toenails were painted turquoise and for a moment, Mike thought they looked like candy. Not that he had a thing for feet - that was restricted to weird dudes - they just looked, small, soft, pretty. Vivien wriggled them and he looked up to see her smirking again. He turned back to the stove.

"What's for supper?" She asked, coming in close behind him.

"Nothing fancy," he said. "Ken's feeling a little down, so I'm making her favorite - grilled cheese and tomato soup." Mike stirred the pot, and Vivien's tiny sigh of disgust was like a small victory.

"Why don't I go see how my daughter is faring?" She said with a sniff, and padded away. He turned to watch her go; the hem of her shirt dusted just above the round globes of her behind, jiggling ever so slightly underneath the skintight spandex; the muscles of her thighs and calves were clearly visible through the thin fabric of her leggings. He sighed and turned back to the stove.

Moments later, muted voices came wafting out from the living room. "Fuck me," he muttered. What was she saying to Kendra out there?

Mike stuck his head out of the kitchen. Vivien was standing by the picture window with her back to him while Kendra sat on the couch, curled up in her Mickey Mouse pajamas and ratty robe. The sunlight shone straight through his mother's gauzy shirt, revealing a perfect silhouette, including the dramatic sweep of her waist. A single beam of light shot through the keyhole between her thighs.

"Kendra, honey, why don't you turn that garbage off and go put on some big girl clothes?"

"Mom, please," Kendra said in a quiet voice. "Just leave me alone and let me enjoy my show."

Vivien turned her head, and opened her mouth to reply when she spotted Mike watching them from the door with a disapproving look on his face. She turned around and leaned over the couch; the neckline of her tunic hung low, giving him a good look at the swell of her breasts, constrained by a heavy blue sports bra. "What are we watching, anyway?"

"Real Housewives of Chicago," Kendra said without looking up.

"Sounds fascinating," her mother said. "Michael, why don't you come join us and we can have a little family time?" She indicated the empty seat on the couch.

"I should really look after supper," he said, gesturing behind him.

"Oh come on. Just for a minute, then you can go back to whatever you were doing." Vivien reached down and patted the cushion. "I don't bite, I promise."

"Alright, just a minute," Mike cast a look back at the stove. The soup was bubbling, but the grilled cheese hadn't yet begun to get warm, so he had time. He took a set next to Kendra on the couch. She hadn't bothered to shower yet today, that much was obvious. Vivien hung over his left shoulder, her hair brushing his ear. They sat there in silence; a cast of rich bitches paraded across the screen, variously screaming at and scheming against one another. Mike noted that, although one or two appeared to have gone under the knife, the rest had all aged like fine wines, their bodies still quite slim and tight. One of his buddies who watched with his wife called it "Real MILFs of Chicago." A brassy blond in the world's shortest minidress flounced across the screen, jabbing her finger accusingly at a gimlet-eyed brunette with a deep tan.

"Ooooh, is that...um, Nicola?" Vivien asked over his shoulder. "I believe I was reading about her. I don't watch this foolishness of course, but I occasionally see something online about it." Kendra grunted in the affirmative.

"This whole fight is real," she cooed. "You can't tell because of how it's edited, but they're fighting over her son." Nobody responded. "Nicola's the brunette over there: she's irresistible to young men, or a real 'cougar' as they say, so she's always got some hot young stud hanging on her arm. Well, she was bringing these hung cubs home with her from the clubs every other night, which was fine-"

"What?" Mike asked. "Sounds a little, uh, uninhibited to me."

"Oh sweetie! How else is a fine, mature woman like that supposed to manage her sex drive? Don't you know that ladies our age are in our sexual prime?" Vivien patted him on the shoulder. "We need someone who's...in sync with our natural needs, not some disgusting old man."

"Anyway, Nicola was bringing home all these young men, when one grew particularly attached to her. A particularly delicious young virgin named James who really needed to be shown the ropes, and she was only too happy to lead him around by the co- nose, I mean." She paused for breath while the brassy blond woman took a swing at Nicola on screen, only to be restrained by another housewife. "So this young man is hanging around Nicola's house all the time, when her son comes home from college with his girlfriend, and he just spends his whole vacation just watching his mother with this young man, listening to them in the evening, in the morning, in the afternoon. Completely neglecting his poor girlfriend, who's just steaming the whole time."

"Why?" Mike said. "Who cares what his mom does?"

"Jealousy, perhaps?" Vivien said. "You know boys and their mommies."

"Wait you mean to say you think he wanted to..."

"Maybe not consciously, Michael," she gave him another condescending pat. "But you have to admit that she's smoking hot, and lots of young men have unresolved Oedipal Complexes."

"I don't buy that," he replied, folding his arms.

"I have a great deal of...personal experience in that area, darling." Vivien chuckled. "In any event, there he was, simply green with envy over this James person, or whatever." She gave Mike some side-eye. "When along comes Candice, that lovely blond woman, to film in Jasmine's kitchen. They've always been rivals, and I guess she saw the opportunity for a little revenge. I'm a little vague on the specifics of what happened next, but suffice it to say that he and Candice ended up in bed together."

"What a jerk!" Mike said. "What happened to his girlfriend?"

"Oh, forgotten, I suppose." Vivien shrugged. "I only know what I read online. Anyway, now Jasmine and Candice are fighting like vipers in a pit. Or they're supposed to be, anyway. I don't think Jasmine's even all that angry about it - apparently her son came back to the house once she snapped her fingers, just like a good boy should. It looks like Candice is the one who's pissed that her little trick didn't work."

"But it doesn't even make any sense!" Mike complained. "Who would do that? Why would anybody do that?"

"I think you're underestimating the power of mature-" Vivien began, but was cut short by the wail of the smoke alarm. "Did you forget something, Michael?"

* * *

"Ah, now this is a little more my speed," Vivien said with a smile as they pulled to a stop in front of La Douceur. A valet dashed out from behind a Doric column and around her Hummer, waiting patiently outside the driver's side.

"This is a little...upscale," Mike said, somewhat nervously. He suddenly felt very out of place in his blazer and jeans combo. He stepped out of the car.

"Oh, don't worry about it Michael," Vivien said dismissively as she handed the keys over to the valet. "It's my treat! A thank you for allowing me into your home." She strutted around the rear of the vehicle and hooked her arm through his. "Just think of me as your sugar momma for the evening."

"I still don't see why Kendra couldn't come," he said as they strode towards the door.

"Don't you remember what she said?" She tut-tutted. "'Go on without me, I don't give a fuck.' Such language! Anyway, it gives us a chance to get to know each other a little. Thank you, Andre," Vivien said to the uniformed man holding the door open. Andre manfully tried not to leer at her and failed miserably.

In his defense, it would have been impossible for any straight man not to leer, even a little. Vivien's dramatic curves and perfectly tight body had been wrapped up in a silver-foil bandage dress that seemed to have been poured onto her, matching the silvery streak that shot through her mane. Despite the tightness of the confining spandex, her creamy cleavage threatened to spill out of the relatively modest neckline of the dress with each step she took; the front of the dress was modest only in relation to the back of it, which swept dramatically down her smooth, muscular back until it almost reached the upper slopes of her ass.

Mike got a good long show from that perspective. "Wait here, Michael, honey while I arrange a table," she put a long-nailed hand on his chest, and strode over to an imperious looking man with a pencil mustache that appeared to be the maitre 'd. As she walked away, Mike's eyes were drawn to the sensual beat of her hips and the muscular little dimples that bracketed her tail-bone; as before, a hint of scroll-work, deep blue against her pale skin rose up above the fabric of the dress. He couldn't really look away - the glittering effect of the silver foil in the lights of the restaurant made it impossible not to look. There was a lot of baroque scroll-work, almost like wings, framing what appeared to be letters. Mike could make out an 'M,' a 'Y'...then an 'I' or something...

"Michael, honey?" His eyes snapped upwards. Vivien was watching him with a bemused smile on her face "Marcel here has arranged a table for us. Come, darling."

He had to walk a pace faster to keep up with her as the maitre d' led them on a circuitous path through the restaurant.

"Madame Valentin' and her companion are here, by the fire," Marcel gestured expansively at a large booth next to an empty fireplace.

"Wait, I'm not her-" Mike protested as he slid into the booth.

"Oh, Marcel, this is my son, Michael, not my date," Vivien interrupted him with a laugh.

"Yeah, I'm married to her daughter, buddy," Mike flashed his wedding ring.

"Pardon, Monsieur," Marcel bowed deeply, "I was mistaken, I'm sure. Jean-Paul will be your server tonight. I'll see to it that he is here shortly."

"Well, that was embarrassing," Vivien said, turning to Mike. "Although I'm sure I can't blame him."

"Excuse me?" Mike said. "You're old enough to be my mo-"

"So? Are you really that sheltered, Michael?" She gestured around the room. "Just take a look around you, dear. What do you see?" As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the dining room, he could clearly see the couples clustered around their candlelit tables. He looked from table to table: the demographics of the place was pretty clear. At almost every table, young men sat with women at least ten, maybe twenty years their elder! In the next booth over, a statuesque woman (who had to be in her sixties at least if the white curls piled high atop her head were any indication) was feeding a bite of her dinner to a slim young man a third her age.

"It's the new hotness, darling," Vivien whispered in his ear. "Every year, more and more young men discover what a more...mature partner has to offer. A woman who not only knows what she wants in this life, but has it, and has no compunctions about taking the rest." Her breath was hot in his ear, and her perfume filled his head, making him dizzy. "A woman in control of her life, who can show him the ropes, teach and lead him in the right way to live. Not some child who can't get her shit together for more than fifteen minutes at a time. And they like it."

"What?" Mike said, turning around. Vivien backed away into the cushion slowly.

"They like having an older woman to tell them what to do," she wrapped the napkin around her finger. "Most of these little boys never quite get over their mothers, you know." The napkin unwound. "Anyway, just to avoid future confusion with Jean-Paul, I think that's what you should call me. Mother, mom, mommy."

"A: I have a mother, and-"

"Of course your have a mother, honey." She smiled. "I mean no disrespect to her. She's clearly raised a strapping, handsome young stud of a man. Maybe you should call me...Mommy Vivien."

"I am not going to call you that."

"Now, Michael-" A young man in a tux hustled up to the table.

"May I take Madame's drink order?"

"Of course, Jean-Paul." Vivien turned to face the waiter, and accidentally swept her clutch off the table. It thudded to the ground. Jean-Paul made a move to retrieve it. She waved her hand. "Nono, JP. Michael, could you be a dear, and get that for me? This dress makes such...contortions difficult."

He huffed, then looked at the waiter, standing impassively with a blank look on his face. "Sure." He said. Biting back his anger, he leaned down under the table. The clutch was near the middle, about a foot away from Vivien's feet, wrapped up in silvery sandals with a five-inch heel, and too far for him to reach. He slid underneath on all fours and crawled forward. To his left, Vivien's clutch leaned delicately against the table; to his right, she crossed her legs, drawing his attention to those long, perfectly muscled stems. She bounced her leg at the knee, and the delicate straps of her sandals glinted in the dim light under the table; the soles of her shoes were bright red, but her toenails were still that bright blue. They reminded him of candy-coated almonds, almost. Mike licked his lips and looked back to her purse. He grabbed it with a suddenly sweaty palm, and she shifted again, bouncing her foot closer to his face. He could still smell her perfume, and it made him dizzy again; he stumbled, and found his cheek brushing against her toes. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. Suddenly, he was wondering what they tasted like. Vivien wiggled her toes, laughing at something Jean-Paul was saying, and her big toe brushed against his lips.

Mike stiffened immediately, coming out of the trance, and wriggled back into his seat as fast as he could, wiping his mouth as he came up for air.

"Something on your mouth, darling?" Vivien asked with a knowing smile. Jean-Paul just smirked. "I ordered for both of us - I hope you don't mind."

Flushed and embarrassed, Mike just shook his head. In a small voice, he said "here" and passed the clutch across the table.

"Will Madame and her gentleman friend require anything else?" Jean-Paul turned to leave.

"I'm not her gentleman friend!" He protested. "She's my momm- mother, dammit, that's all!" The waiter looked from Mike to Vivien; she shook her head slightly, and he walked away.

"Don't pout Michael, it's unattractive," she admonished him. Mike sat up. "Thank you for getting my purse back, honey. You're such a good boy."

Silently, he prayed to a swift end to the evening.

* * *

Mike woke up early the next morning; as usual, Kendra was snuggled close, her arms wrapped around him as if she were hanging on for dear life. He watched her sleep. She'd already gone to bed by the time he and Vivien had gotten back. Once they'd ordered, and his embarrassment had passed somewhat, they settled down to have a lovely evening - Vivien turned out to be a delightful dinner conversationalist, having been everywhere and done just about everything. They'd chatted and joked most of the night away, and it was closing on midnight before they'd gotten back through the door.

Kendra snored softly and drooled onto his shoulder. He felt sorry for her. Gingerly, Mike raised his wrist to check the time - there was still a good twenty minutes before the alarm sounded. Something must have roused him. He glanced over at the night stand, to the alarm clock; sitting next to it was a small pink gift bag. A folded sheet of cream-colored paper was attached to the handle. "For Michael," the outside read.

Quietly, slowly, Mike eased his way out of Kendra's embrace. Rolling over onto his side, he took the bag, and unfolded the note.

"Dear Michael,

Thank you so much for a wonderful evening last night. Please accept the enclosed as a token of my affection.

Love,

Mommy Vivien

P.S. - I know you like the color"

Curious, he pulled the handles apart, only to be rewarded with the crackling of tissue paper. Kendra stirred and mumbled something, then went back to snoring. Rolling slowly off the bed, he crept into the en suite bathroom and closed the door. He locked it without even thinking.

Mike opened the bag again, and pulled out the tissue paper. There was a sudden rush of Vivien's scent, enveloping his face and overwhelming his still-sleepy senses. He took a long, deep breath; Kendra hated perfume, but he had to admit that he was becoming fond of the way her mother smelled. Down at the bottom of the bag sat something small and robin's egg blue. The memory of Vivien's toes came flooding back, and the feel of them on his lips, and how easy it would have been to just let one slip inside, just to take a quick taste...

He shook his head, and reached inside. The thong unfolded as he pulled it out, revealing the tiniest blue pouch of silk, framed by lace scalloping. The bow on the front was a shocking red. Mike's heart leapt to his throat. The bag fell to the floor, forgotten; he held the panties with both hands, inspecting them front and back. Like a guilty teen, he checked the bathroom doorknob to make sure it was locked.

It was wrong, he knew. Everything that was going on here was wrong. He shouldn't be holding his mother's panties. He shouldn't be rubbing the fabric between his fingertips. He shouldn't be inhaling her perfume. There was so much more of it now, filling up the bathroom. Was it coming from the panties? Wherever it was coming from, it was delicious. He brought Vivien's thong closer to his face, following the scent until the touched his face, the gusset draped over his mouth.

Mike's breath was coming in big ragged gasps and his hands trembled like leaves. He'd never done anything so...wrong before. His cock was like a flagpole in his pajamas, harder than he could ever remember it being. He was dying to stroke his aching meat, something he hadn't done since before he'd married Kendra. Just one quick pump couldn't hurt...

He inhaled Vivien's perfume deep inside his lungs, and slid a hand inside the waist of his pants. Mike wrapped one fist around his cock, trying not to think about the way her legs looked the night before (so much longer than Kendra's!), the way her toes had felt against his lips (why couldn't Kendra get a pedicure like that?), those gorgeous milky breasts (easily two cupsizes larger than her daughter!), the prominence of her muscular behind (twitching back and forth in those leggings!), or her sexy smirk (so knowing, like she had already read his mind). Mike could barely restrain a moan as his hand slid from tip to root.

He squeezed hard at the base of his cock and tried desperately not to think of Vivien, standing at the window yesterday, flaunting that squeezable ass all wrapped up in Lycra, just waiting for someone to come in behind and take a globe firmly in each hand, kneading that firm flesh and spreading it before falling to his knees and kis-

Someone rapped sharply on the door.

"Baby? Are you okay in there?" Kendra! Instantly ashamed, he ripped the panties from his face and stuffed them into his pajamas. "I thought I heard you groaning?"

"Sorry, yes honey! Just...last night's dinner isn't agreeing with me is all."

"Mike, that's disgusting." The doorknob rattled. "Can I come in? I've got to get ready for work." Hastily, he flushed the toilet, and turned on the taps. After giving his hands a quick douse with the cold water, he dried them off and unlocked the door. Kendra pushed her way in. As usual, her hair was mussed up in a straggly brown halo around her head, and she was still wearing the Minnie Mouse flannel's she'd been wearing since the day before.




Mother Sweet



"Morning," she said, standing on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. She recoiled instantly. "Ugh, Mike. You smell like my mother."

"Yeah, she wears a uh, a lot of perfume hey?" He laughed nervously. Hand shoved in pocket, he held his shaft down, praying she wouldn't notice.

"God, so much." Kendra rolled her eyes. "You need to wash that shit off, ASAP. Right after I'm done." She patted him on the face and gave him a sleepy smile.

"I will." Mike returned the smile. "I'll go get the coffee started." Offering a silent prayer of thanks to whomever was listening, he slipped out the bathroom door and closed it. Letting go of his hard-on, it sprang back out, straining against the fabric; he held tight to the panties stuffed deep in the pocket. Head still spinning, he wandered downstairs and into the kitchen.

Vivien was standing at the island, quietly sipping an over sized cup of coffee with her back to him. She was wearing an abbreviated pair of satin shorts with pink pinstripes that seemed to be sucked deep into the welcoming crevasse of her behind, and an oversizes satin shirt in the same color. She stood up straight on her tiptoes, making the muscles of her lean calves bunch, and clenching the perfect globes of her ass. Mike watched her and rubbed the fabric of her panties between his fingers.

"Good morning, Michael," she said without turning around. "Enjoying yourself?" He pulled his hand out of his pocket immediately.

"No,I just came down to make coffee," he said. "Did you make some already?"

"Just enough for me, I'm afraid," Vivien turned around and hopped up onto the island, her mouth twisted into a mocking pout. Her eyes trailed lazily down his chest, to rest on his crotch. "I see someone is having a good morning. I take it you enjoyed my gift?" Her nipples drilled through the loose fabric of her pajama shirt, which was unbuttoned just enough to show off a deep well of creamy tit flesh.

"No, what gift?" He could feel his face turning pink. She curled a finger at him.

"The little present I left for you on your night stand, darling," Vivien purred. "We wouldn't want my daughter finding it first, now would we?" Mike shuffled forward, in spite of himself. "Of course, if you're lucky maybe you can tell her it's a little something for her, couldn't you? Would you like that, Michael? If Kendra started dressing like me? If she slid into some teensy tiny little thong, my thong, just for you? Do you like the thought of my daughter putting on a pair of my underwear, after I've already worn them?"

"What? No, that's disgusting." Mike said.

"Oh I know honey," she said. "Poor little Kendra would look disgusting in my thong; poor child simply doesn't have my genes." Vivien slid one hand down across the broad sweep of her hips. "I'm sure they'd hang off her."

"No, I mean how can you talk about your daughter that way?" He protested, coming within arm's length of her.

"Oh Michael. I'm just having a little fun at her expense," she chuckled. "It's how we've always gotten along. Besides, your protests would be much more convincing if it wasn't for that thing." She gestured at his unflagging erection. "Or..." Vivien hopped down and stepped closer. "...if I couldn't smell my panties all over your face." One hand trailed across his firm stomach, toying with the kinky curls of hair that trailed down into his pants.

"Anyway," Vivien said, plucking one button on her sleep shirt, letting her breasts push it open even further. Mike could see the inside curves of her tits, nipples *just* beyond the limit of his vision. "I suppose I should go and get dressed. I'll be up in my room if you need me, Michael." She walked past him, and out of the kitchen, plucking another button. He watched the shirt sag as it opened all the way and tried not to envision what it looked like from the front.

What had he even come down here for in the first place? "Shit. Coffee, right. Coffee."

* * *

Mike sat at his desk, not really reading the document on-screen. His right hand was buried deep in his pocket, gently rubbing the fabric of Vivien's panties. He'd spent all morning either touching them or thinking about touching them. He hadn't planned to bring them to work, but there just hadn't been any opportunity (or so he said to himself) to hide them properly someplace Kendra wouldn't be likely to look.

His phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mike. It's Darren, from Security. There's a lady down here to see you. Says she's your mother."

"Mom?" Mike felt his heart leap into his throat. His mom lived on the other side of town. He didn't think she'd ever even been to his building before; there must be something going on. "Yeah, sure Darren. I'll be right down."

"No rush," the security guard said, and her could hear a woman's laughter somewhere on the other end of the line, which disconnected soon after. He stared at the receiver for a moment, then hung up.

"What the hell?" Mike said, then rushed out of his office to the elevator bank. He impatiently tapped his foot through the dozen or so floors to the lobby level, then darted through the incoming crowd once the doors opened. He wove through a crowd of lunchgoers and slipped out the gate; Darren and his partner were both standing in front of the Security desk, busily laughing and chatting. As he rounded the corner, he saw that they were walking to Vivien, who was standing very close to Darren, and lightly fingering his security badge as they spoke. She was wearing a tight, navy blue shirtdress that fell to just above her knee; the buttons down the front had been opened from above and below to reveal a long expanse of smooth inner thigh, and the depths of her cleavage, from which Darren's eyes didn't seem capable of escaping. Her bright red pumps matched the narrow leather belt around her waist and the slash of lipstick across her smiling lips. One of her legs was between the security guard's as she leaned close to say something in his ear.

"What the fuck is THIS?" Mike said, striding angrily towards them. "Darren, what the fuck?" The guard blushed, and both he and his colleague scurried back behind their desk.

"Michael honey, we were just having a little talk while we waited for you," Vivien gave him a million-watt smile and gestured at the other men, while he closed the distance between them, suddenly back within range of her perfume. He took her by the elbow. 

"Surely you're not jealous, are you?" She teased, stepping into him and pressing her swelling breasts into his body. Again, he found himself staring slightly up into her cool green gaze. "After all, it would be *so* wrong to be jealous of some young man talking to your mother. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah I guess." Mike's anger deflated, but he shot Darren a look nonetheless. The security guard, for his part, looked studiously at his monitor. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Well," she said, taking one small step back. "I was in this part of town, and just about to take lunch with a dear old friend, and I thought I'd come by to see if you were interested in coming along."

"What about Ken?"

"Well of course she's invited, sweetheart. She is my daughter, after all." Vivien hooked her arm through his. "Shall we go?"

Sure enough, Kendra was waiting outside in the back seat of a town car idling by the door. Vivien slid inside first and Mike squeezed in next to her, trying to maintain a maximum of space between them. The split in her skirt widened as she crossed her legs, showing off an ever-longer slice of creamery smooth, toned thigh. Kendra cleared her throat, and he glanced over to see her shooting him a dirty look.

"Hi honey," he said. She pulled her cardigan tight around her body, and looked out the window. "So, uh. Where are we headed?"

"Well," said Vivien, laying a hand on his knee. "La Douceur does a lovely brunch and I know how much you liked it there last night." Her daughter made a noise somewhere in her throat at that. "So I thought we could meet Nancy and her co-worker there for a friendly family lunch." Her hand lingered on his knee, tracing a figure eight with her index finger.

"Great," his wife grumbled. "Now we've got to put up with the two of you. Just how I wanted to spend my lunch hour."

"Kendra, don't be so ungrateful," Vivien said sternly. "And sit up straight. Driver, La Douceur, please."

The drive was spent in an awkward silence that Mike occasionally tried to break by asking about Kendra's morning, her workplace, whatever ongoing projects she had on the hob, to no substantial effect. It certainly didn't help that every time his wife began to speak, her mother would move her hand on his knee, or recross her legs, or adjust the collar of her dress *just* enough to refocus his gaze back to Vivien, making it difficult to converse.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, the valet was quick to open Mike's door and lend Vivien a hand after he'd stepped out; when he showed no interest in rounding the car to open Kendra's door, she huffed and puffed and let herself out.

"Come on now, Kendra sweetheart," Vivien called out as she waited for her daughter. Mike followed close behind as they walked into the restaurant together; his wife looked like a child next to her mother, dressed in her ballet flats and long, baggy flower-print dress. He'd always appreciated Kendra's slim form before, but Mike couldn't help but let his gaze be drawn to the twitching motion of Vivien's firm, prominent behind as it sashayed back and forth, or the subtle line of her muscular calves, enhanced by the tall heels of her pumps. Even her hair looked especially dull next to Vivien's vibrant mane.

The waiter led them inside, where Nancy and her friend, a tall, buff-looking young blond man were already seated at one of the tables. As Vivien approached, Nancy leapt to her feet, honey-blond curls and mature breasts bouncing in time as she did.

"Vivien, darling!" The estate agent enthused as she came around the table; she was wearing a high-necked white silk blouse that could do nothing to hide the twin globes of her enormous breasts, and a loose but scandalously short red wraparound skirt that looked as though it had been painted onto the delicious curve of her behind, enhanced as it was by the dangerously high heels of her black, peep-toe ankle boots.

"Nancy, it's been *forever*," Vivien replied as they embraced, kissing each other on the cheek. "Who is your young man?"

"Oh that's Tommy," the blond said, letting go of Vivien to embrace Mike in a long, lingering hug. "He's one of our lovely interns at the office, but I'm thinking of keeping him around." Tom smiled, and waved nervously. "And of course I already know Mike and Kendra. How simply *wonderful* to see you both!"

The waiter seated Mike next to Tom, and Vivien between himself and Kendra. They ordered drinks, and suddenly Mike felt something plucking at his pants; glancing down, he saw that Vivien's long fingers were stealing inside the pocket where he'd secreted her panties. As Nancy engaged Kendra in conversation, he shot her mother a panicked look. Vivien simply winked, and he felt the warmth of her hand sliding over his thigh. He sat as still as he could, not saying a word, as his mother leaned back slightly in her chair and slid her hand deeper inside his pocket, until her fingers discovered the treasure tucked away in the furthest corner. Vivien chuckled softly, and withdrew her hand again. Mike dropped his napkin in his lap to hide the sudden swelling there. Under the table, he could feel the toe of her shoe lifting the hem of his pant leg and gently stroking his leg.

Their drinks arrived. Tom excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Nancy told him she'd order for him if the waiter returned before he did. In fact, when the waiter arrived, Vivien and Nancy took the liberty of ordering for the whole table. Mike began to object, but Vivien's hand stole back into his lap, and the words fell out of his mouth; Kendra just sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I should go and see what's keeping Tommy," Nancy said after a few minutes of waiting. She stood, and headed towards the back of the restaurant.

"Kendra," Vivien said in a low voice. "It won't kill you to be civil. This is meant to be a friendly luncheon."

Mike watched as his wife's face twisted into a mask of scorn. "Friendly?" She spat. "Yes, I'll it's real friendly. And if I wasn't here I bet it'd be even *friendlier*." The acid in her voice could have etched glass.

"And what is that supposed to mean, young lady?" Vivien said.

"You know damn well what I mean, mother." Kendra took a long pull of her drink, a seven-and-seven which seemed pretty heavy for a lunchtime aperitif to Mike.

"No, I'm fairly certain that I do not," the elder redhead's face was a mask of impassivity.

"You think I don't know what you're trying to do?" Mike watched as his wife emptied the whiskey tumbler; a handy waiter appeared to take the glass and replace it with a full one. "We both know that if I hadn't agreed to tag along with you on this- this-" she struggled for words, and took another drink. "Whateveritis."

"Michael," Vivien said in an even tone. "Perhaps you should step away from the table for a moment while I have a conversation with my daughter."

"Uh-" he began, then Kendra slammed her drink down on the tablecloth.

"Just do what she says, Mike. Be a good boy and go away for a minute." She sneered at her mother.

"Hey, look-"

"Michael." There was iron in Vivien's voice. "Go and check on Thomas. Now, please." Mother and daughter stared daggers at one another. Gingerly putting his napkin back on the table, as though he were afraid it would set off an explosion, Mike slowly pushed back from the table and got up.

Stepping away from the table, he watched as Kendra and Vivien's heads came together and they began to trade verbal blows at a just-less-than-audible volume. He flagged down a waiter and asked for directions to the washroom, and was waved towards a dim corridor at the back of the restaurant.

He pushed his way through the mens' room door, and found it a finely-appointed affair of marble and gold; the attendant's chair was empty, but a thick wad of bills sat in his tips cup, next to an array of toiletries. As the door quietly *whooshed* closed, Mike thought heard somebody grunting in one of the stalls, and grinned. He'd had those mornings, too. He opened his mouth to call out to Tom but the words died on his lips when he heard a decidedly female gasp.

"Oh *my* Tommy," Nancy's voice wafted out from one of the stalls. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint."

"Mrs. Perillo," Tom grunted. "I don't- I don't think this is a good-" his voice was suddenly muffled by something, and Mike heard the sound of clothes rustling. He could clearly see Toms legs under one of the stall doors; slowly approaching (after he checked to make sure that the other stalls were empty), he put his eye up against the crack between the wall and the door.

Nancy was sitting squarely on Tom's lap, tiny red skirt rucked up over her hips as she spread her legs around his body, the heel of one boot braced against the wall behind him, all the muscles in that long leg standing out as she held herself there. Her arms held his head tightly to her prodigious chest while she rocked her hips back and forth on his lap. After a moment, she released him.

"What," he panted. "What about Jane?" Tom's own hands wandered down Nancy's back to fold themselves around her ass.

"Poor little plain Jane," she said in a mocking tone, "never had a chance, sweetheart. Not from the moment you walked into my door and laid your eyes on these." Nancy pushed his head back into her breasts. Mike watched the other man's hands tighten around her behind, and heard a deep, guttural groan from the depths of her cleavage. "And you haven't even seen them in person yet!" She laughed. "It's okay, Tommy. A young man like you is simply built to need a body like mine, made to please an older woman. It's no wonder you were drawn to my tits like a moth to a flame."

Tom came up for air. "I can't do that to her! What about, what about your friends waiting outside?"

"You can and you will," Nancy said. "It's about time I took ownership of this big young cock you've been wasting on that silly little bitch." Her hand snaked in between them, and Mike heard a zipper. Tom's eyes rolled back in his head. "As for Vivien, she's got that boy out there so twisted around-" she stopped talking, and twisted her head around. Mike took a panicky half step away from the door. "Anyway," Nancy said after a moment. "Don't you worry about them. Worry about this."

"Oooh, Mrs. Perillo," Tom grunted as Mike backed out of the bathroom again, scandalized and feeling spun round. He knew Nanc- Mrs. Perillo was attractive, sure. He had eyes, after all. But this Tom guy must be a hell of a jerk to cheat on whoever Jane was; there shouldn't be a pair of tits on earth that could make a man fall out of love with his girl, no matter what Mrs. Perillo said.

As the door shut in front of him, he felt something warm press against his back.

"Did you find them?" Vivien whispered in his ear. Her hand slid easily back into his pocket.

"Vivien, stop." Mike said in a low voice. Her hand felt hot as her fingers quested deeper into his pants.

"I'm just ensuring you haven't done anything...untoward with my little gift," she said, mouth brushing against his ear. Her fingernails scratched against his thigh.

"No, I haven't," he said, turning around. Vivien's hand slipped back out of his pocket as he did, holding the blue thong he'd secreted there. He watched as his mother unrolled them, gave them a gentle sniff, then gave him an approving smile.

"Good boy," she said. "I do so hate to see my things abused." She draped them over Mike's left shoulder and turned on one heel. "Come along, Michael. Kendra insists on behaving like a child, and I refuse to put up with it any longer, so I'm afraid lunch is over." She stalked off without another word, and he couldn't help but watch the hypnotic sway of her behind.

This was his chance, he realized, to get rid of her underwear someplace nobody he knew would find it. Just stash it in a planter or behind something or even go back into the washroom and flush the damn things or maybe-

Behind him, he heard the washroom door opened. Blushing, he snatched the panties off his shoulder and stuffed them back in his pocket.

"Mike, is everything alright?" Nancy asked, smoothing down the hem of her skirt.

"Yeah, yeah sure." He couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the eye. "We're leaving, apparently. Ken and Vivien had a fight."

"Same old story," Nancy said, shaking her head. "They haven't gotten on since Vivien sto- I mean, since Kendra was a senior in high school. "

"What happened?" Mike asked, trying to ignore the disarray of her blouse.

"Oh well," Nancy hedged. "I'm sure Kendra could tell you more. Something about her prom date, is what I was told."

"Vivien didn't approve?"

Nancy just laughed. "Something like that, maybe. Come on, Mike. I'd like to finish my drink before your mother sweeps out of here." She hooked her arm in his, and escorted them both back to the table, where mother and daughter sat in stony silence. 

The drive back to the office was, somehow, even more awkward than before.

* * *

Mike and Kendra sat on the couch in silence, watching TV. Vivien was upstairs in the mother suite, making a racket, moving something around. Kendra looked up at the ceiling and rolled her eyes.

"Honey," he began. "What am I supposed to do? What do you want me to do? I can't mediate here if I don't know what's going on."

"Mike," she said. "All I want, all I have ever wanted was somebody to take my side. Somebody I can trust to take my side over *hers*. Can you do that?"




Mother Sweet



"Of course!" Mike said, and meant it. "That's what I'm here for. To take your side. I just don't know what your side even is in this."

"Does it matter? It's my side. I'm your wife. That's all you should need to know."

He thought about that for a minute.

"That makes sense," he said. "I promise, I will always take-"

"Michael," came Vivien's voice from the top of the stairs. "Can you come up a moment?" He looked over at Kendra, who rolled her eyes.

"Hang on," Mike shouted back, then sighed. "Ken, honey, I will-"

"Michael? Please." His mother's voice took on a stern note.

"Hang *on*."

"Just go," Kendra said. "It won't get any better if you stall."

"I'll be right back," he assured her. "You won't even notice that I'm gone, promise."

"Mhm," was his wife's response as she turned back to the television. "Just...just be careful, okay?"

"Ken," Mike laughed. "She's your mother, not a tiger. I'll be right back. Coming!"

"Sure." Her voice was soft and faraway. Shaking his head, he left the room, and mounted the stairs.

Vivien had retired to her own room, apparently. She wasn't at the top of the stair when he got there. Her door was wide open, casting a warm light down the darkened hall.

"Hello?" He called. "Vivien? Did you need something?" Walking into the bedroom, Mike saw that one of her suitcases was on top of the bed, clearly halfway packed. His heart leapt into his throat as a sudden elation swept through him. She was cutting this visit from hell short and there was light at the end of the tunnel at long last, and he wouldn't have to stumble through any more awkward conversations or hushed arguments he wasn't privy to or weirdly sexual aggression from his wife's own mother.

"Oh there you are, Michael," Vivien walked in from the en-suite bathroom. She was wearing a pair of gray leggings with a subtle geometrical print that took pains to clearly delineate the curves of her lower body, the muscles of her trim thighs, the length of her calves. Her toes were still painted that matte blue, and Mike licked his lips despite himself. She was putting her hair back in a thick pony tail as she entered, thrusting her impressive chest out in the skimpy blue tank top she wore on top. The word "MINE" was spelled out on the front in thick black lettering circumscribed by a heart in black sequins. "I was starting to think you weren't going to come."

"Well," he said, pointedly. "I was talking to my *wife*, your daughter, remember?"

"Of course I remember, silly." Vivien said, walking past him to the bed. Bending over slightly, she reached down and flipped the cover of her suitcase closed. Mike watched the hem of her tank-top rise above the twin globes of her ass, eyes tracing the pattern in her leggings as they dipped deep into the crack of her sculpted behind. Straightening again, she gestured at the bed. "Please, have a set."

"What is this all about?" He asked, suspicious.

"Michael, I just want to talk about what's been going on between myself and Kendra." Vivien gestured at the bed again. "Sit. Please." Somewhat awkwardly, he sat down where she indicated, hands in his lap. "Thank you." She turned and closed the door; the lock slid home with a surprisingly loud click. Turning back around, she leaned against the door, crossing her legs in front of her. She stretched and curled her feet. He shifted, uncomfortably.

"I don't know what you've heard," she began. "I doubt Kendra likes to talk about it."

"Nancy said it had something to do with her senior prom, but not much else." Mike offered, dragging his gaze up from the extended length of her legs to meet her eyes.

Vivien laughed. "Something to do with that, yes." She re-crossed her legs. "Michael, it goes without saying that my daughter and I do not have very much in common." Mike had to suppress the urge to laugh in her face at that. "I don't think very much of many of her decisions, the way she dresses, or her behavior - frankly, I consider her a tiresome bore most of the time, and we have never been particularly close."

"I am not," she said, "a very good mother." Vivien stretched, catlike, drawing the hem of her shirt high above the waistband of her leggings, revealing the flat plain of her stomach, marked only by the faint valley of her abdominal muscles and the dimple of her navel.

"But one thing that my daughter and I do agree on, is that she has great taste in men." One of her hands drifted across her stomach, blue nails lightly scratching the smooth, pale skin. "That mousy child can somehow ferret out and snare the most delightful young studs. Maybe there's something of myself in her after all." Her eyes flickered over Mike, sitting on the bed, and not for the first time, he felt like she was sizing him up like a lioness would an impala.

"But not much." Her hands fell to the waistband of her leggings, hooking her thumbs in and dragging them down half an inch to reveal her hip-bones. "Kendra's a romantic, so she falls in love. And for some reason, they fall in love with her. For a little while." Mike licked his lips. "When Kendra was eighteen, she fell hard for a wonderful young man named Jonathan - they were valedictorians together, though he was on the football team." She uncrossed her legs, and the waistband came down another fraction of an inch; he tried not to think about what kind of panties she was wearing, if any.

"They were inseparable, though he was far out of her league, a beautiful, strapping stud." Vivien bit her lip at the memory. "Basically begging somebody to try and take him away from her." Mike opened his mouth to object, but she talked over him before the words could leave his mouth. "The more time they spent at the house, the more she began to suspect that perhaps Jonathan was beginning to develop an interest in, well, me. There was nothing she could put her finger on, obviously, no evidence for her to find. But she got more suspicious, more angry as time passed; accusing me of trying to steal her boyfriend, trying to ruin her happiness, trying to seduce Jonathan out of her life. I told her she was being ridiculous, of course, but that only made matters worse. She couldn't prove her suspicions, so they only made her angrier and less reasonable."

"Until prom?" He said.

"Until prom, when it all blew up." Vivien nodded. "You see, that child told me that no matter what I tried, I *couldn't* seduce her boyfriend. Those were very dangerous words. I do *not* like being told what to do." A vicious smile crossed her face. "I had no interest in the boy, really. I They're awful lovers, stamina be damned. I prefer men, young men, but men nonetheless. But you see, I couldn't let her be *right*." Vivien chuckled. "You know, I think he really did love her."

"Hold on, you mean you-"

"He showed up in his tux, so tight in all the right places, practically *begging* to be fucked." A shiver ran through her. "And of course it was all so deliciously *wrong*, I could hardly help myself."

"That's sick!"

"It didn't even take very long to accomplish, from the time he arrived until Kendra came down the stairs in her gown and caught us." Vivien's hand drifted between her legs. "I bet you've never done anything so wrong in your life, have you, Michael?"

"Is that a joke? Of course not!" As he spoke, Vivien closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into her flesh through the fabric of her pants.

"Mmmm, I thought not. You're a good boy." She straightened up and withdrew her hand. "For now. Anyway, I'm sure you can figure out the rest of the story. And now you know."

"You're disgusting. If I'd known earlier, I never would have let you into my house. *Our* house."

"No?" She asked, taking a step closer. "You don't think you really had a choice in the matter, did you?" Vivien planted one foot on the bed, between his legs. "Do you think you really could have said no, if I'd decided you weren't going to?" He glanced down at her soft toes with their candyshell paint, and stuffed the memory of how they felt on his lips down as far as it would go.

"Yeah, I do." Mike said, voice a little shaky as he looked back up into her mocking green eyes.

"Michael, you can't even get up now, knowing everything you know." She said. "Admit it: you think I'm far more attractive than my daughter."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Honey, you haven't stopped fondling the panties in your pocket since you came into the room," Vivien threw back her head and laughed. Shamefaced, he quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Go ahead. Try to get up."

Mike grabbed her calf in both hands, intent on removing her foot from where it was planted and storming out angrily; instead, once his hands were filled with warm, firm flesh, touchably smooth in the soft jersey of her leggings, he found his fingers siding up to her knee, then back down again.

"What's wrong?" She asked, softly.

*Everything*, he thought. Mike knew he shouldn't be touching her, knew he shouldn't have kept her panties, knew he should let go immediately and knock her down, run out of the room, find Kendra and tell her what was going on, but...but... he couldn't let go. He knew it was wrong, and that was *exciting*. His hand slid up past her knee, gliding over her thigh, feeling the muscles flex under the fabric. Kendra's legs were thick with fat by comparison.

"Naughty naughty," Vivien cooed, placing her hands on his, and gently peeling them away from her leg. "How about I make this easy for you?" She slid her foot off the bed, and took a step back. Clenching his fists, he stood on shaky legs and walked to the door. Numb fingers struggled with the lock as he heard clothes rustling behind him.

"Michael," she called softly. "Aren't you even the least bit curious about what your mother looks like without a shirt on?" Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that Vivien had dropped her tank-top to the floor, revealing a lacy, seafoam-green, mesh-cupped bra that was filled to the brim with milky-white cleavage and just barely offered a hint of the strawberry pink nipples contained within. Mike's hand dropped from the doorknob.

"Poor little Ken-doll doesn't have anything on these, has she?" Vivien cupped one heavy breast, fingers teasing the nipple through the fabric.

"No," he said in a hushed tone, without even thinking about it. His mother spun on one foot, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings. Her back looked as smooth as freshly-poured cream; his eyes came to rest on the tattooed scrollwork rising up above the waist of the yoga pants. The top of the "M" was clearly visible.

"Now," she said. "Do you want to know what kind of panties I'm wearing?" He nodded. "No, say it." Vivien waggled her behind at him, bending slightly at the waist.

"I want to see them. I want to see your panties."

"But what about my daughter?" She said coyly. "What about your wife?" A pained look crossed his face as he struggled with his conscience. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, not really, not anything sexual. He could back out anytime he wanted to, the door was right there, there was nothing keeping him in the room; it was wrong, the whole thing was wrong, but it was okay to be a little naughty, wasn't it?

"Show me your panties," he growled.

"A little aggression looks good on you, darling." Vivien said, and began slowly pulling her leggings down over the perfect curves of her behind. As they came into view, Mike saw that her panties were little more than seafoam-green film stretched tightly into transparency across her hips before ducking deeply into the crevice between her firm, muscular buttocks, only to slip out again into the full pussy pouch in the gusset. He stared as she wiggled out of her pants, eyes locked not on her ass, but the letters stenciled just above it, wrapped in baroque scrollwork - "MYLF".

"What, uh, what does that mean?"

"Oh *that*," she said with a laugh, kicking her clothes away. "It's a little trashy, isn't it? But the boys seem to love it. It's not rocket science, darling." She reached back, and pointed to each letter with a long blue fingernail. "Mother. You'll. Love. Fucking. Really, a silly decision, but it's so very true, Michael."

"I'm not going to fuck you, Vivien," he said in a strangled voice. "I can't have sex with my own mother! It'll kill Ken-"

"Michael, what did you think you came up here to do?" She gave her behind a little wiggle. "You didn't object to being in here alone with me, even after I left my panties on your doorstep this morning! Admit it: you came up here hoping I'd make you my fuck toy."

"Vivien, look." Mike said in what he hoped was a reasonable voice as he turned 'round to face her. "You're really h- attractive, I can't deny that. I'm not blind. But I didn't come up here to fuck you."

"Oh honey," she said. "I'm the one who decides who fucks whom. Believe me, when I allow that thick young cock inside of me, it will be on *my* terms, and we both know you'll *love* it. You came up here to *get* fucked."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I'm talking about the way you love being told what to do," Vivien said, reaching back and grabbing a handful of ass. "I'm talking about how quick you were to scuttle after my bags when I told you to get them."

"I was being polite!" He shouted. "It's what normal human beings do when-"

"Mhm," she said condescendingly. "That's why you were so excited and hard to do what I told you that the first thing you did when you got them here was open them up to look through my bags and fondle my underthings."

"That was an acc-"

"Sure, an accident." she nodded, dragging her hand down across her thigh, bending over at the waist as she reached down to grab her ankle. "That's why you were so eager to accept my invitation to dinner last night, even though you *knew* how much Kendra would hate it." She dragged her hand back up her body, fingers scraping across ivory-smooth skin. "And then you took the first excuse you could to slide under the table and perv on my legs, look up my skirt. Michael, you went so far as to *kiss my foot* that night. You *like* it when I tell you what to do, darling. I told you to keep the panties and you kept them. I told you to come to lunch and you came. I told you to go watch Nancy and her boytoy fuck in the bathroom and you went." Her hand slid up her side as she straightened up. "Look at you - you can't even leave the room without my permission." She cupped one of her weighty tits in her hand, and Mike craned his neck to see what she was doing. "You come when I call, you do what I say, and it makes you so *hard*, especially when what I tell you is what you shouldn't be doing."

Mike tried to take a step back, and bumped against the door. "That's ridiculous," he said. "I'm a grown man and I definitely do *not* need to be told or want to be told-"

"Ha!" Vivien barked, and released her breast, which dropped a fraction of an inch and jiggled slightly in the filmy cup of her bra. "Every young man wants to be told what to do, deep down. It's encoded in your DNA, honey. You don't really have a choice or a chance. Watch." She shot him a knowing look over her bare shoulder. "Michael, unhook my bra, now."

Mike resolved himself not to do it. He didn't need to do it, he didn't have to do it, no matter how curious he was about what Vivien's gorgeous, perfect breasts would look like, free of their constraints. It's not as if he'd never seen breasts before. Kendra's little chestbumps were perfectly serviceable, even if they did look a little like fried-eggs on a board when she wasn't wearing a bra, unlike her mother's voluminous, creamy titflesh. He wouldn't, and it didn't matter how much he wanted to see them bobbing and jiggling, strawberry-pink nipples thickening and rising in the cool air of her bedroom. No matter how badly he wanted to see her cradling them in her hands, to compare them in the flesh with his wife's insufficient little breasts. To confirm what he already knew: that Vivien's succulent tits simply blew her daughter's out of the water.

He wasn't going to do it, it was wrong, it was terrible, it was disgusting even to think about it, even though it was just a little clasp, straining already and it would take very little to just pop it open. Vivien probably wouldn't even know he'd done it and then he'd get to see them while being able to pretend he hadn't done it and if Kendra asked or found out he'd have plausible deniability. But he would know, and that sent chills of excitement up his spine and an electric thrill through his balls.

He took a step closer, one hand rising of its own accord; it took only one pluck of his fingers to release the clasp, which sprang open under the strain of her breasts. His cock pulsed and strained likewise against the fabric of his pants.

"See?" She said, with a sigh. "Doesn't it feel so good to just do as you're told?" Vivien nimbly shrugged the bra off and turned to face him, one slim forearm holding back her tits. She draped the still-warm lingerie over his shoulder. It brushed against his cheek, and his senses filled up with her perfume, sensual and sweet and dizzying.

"You should kneel now," she said, seating herself on the bed, and spreading her legs. Without even thinking about it, Mike did as he was told, sinking to his knees in front of her. His eyes were locked on the creamery-white flesh spilling over the top of her forearm as she held her breasts back.

"Tell me you need to see them," his mother said. "Tell me you need to see them more than you've ever needed to see my daughter's."

"Yes," he grunted. "I want-"

"Not want," Vivien admonished. "*Need*. You need them, you thirst for them, you crave them like you've never craved anything before. Say it!"

"Yessss," he hissed. "I need to see your fucking tits."

"Mm," she appeared to mull it over. "Not enough. What if I said you could never see Kendra's little titties ever again after I showed you mine?"

"Yes!" Mike shouted. "Whatever you say, I'll fucking do it." Vivien flushed as a shiver ran through her body. She lowered her arm, leaning back on her elbows. Mike swallowed, mouth suddenly full of saliva as he watched those beautifully full tits swing free of her grasp, skin so pale it was practically translucent, particularly around her nipples, where the pale blue tracery of her veins rushed blood away as they swelled up to fingertip-size.

"I can think of a better use for that mouth," Vivien said, spreading her legs wider. Through the mesh of her panties, Mike could see the thin line of red hair pointing directly at the opaque gusset, which had become dark with moisture. She hooked one long leg around his neck, and pulled him closer. "Come here, Michael darling. Come here and put your face in your mother's pussy." Vivien's thighs were silky-smooth, brushing against his cheeks as he was drawn inexorably inwards. Soon, his slack lips were flush with the sopping wet fabric of her panties.

She said one word: "suck." He opened his mouth and suddenly it was full of her sweet, savory pussy juice. Hungrily, noisily, he began to slurp at her still-hidden lips, his body burning with a desire to fill itself up with the taste of her. With every lap, he knew he was degrading himself, knew he was sacrificing a happy future with Kendra, and that knowledge simply drove him to suck harder, swallow more, jam his tongue furiously against her delicate flesh barely hidden behind the panties. Vivien locked her ankles around his back as he pushed himself deeper into her pussy, heels gently tapping against his spine. He grabbed her hips, pulling Kendra's mom into his face as she sprawled out on the bed, hair spreading out in a crimson fan as her back arched.

"That's a good boy," she cooed. "Suck mommy Vivien's pretty pussy." Her hands ran through his hair and pulled on it as he feasted on her cunt. Mike could feel his chin dripping with an obscene mixture of his saliva and his mother's secretions and it only made him hungrier for more. Her thighs clamped down hard over his ears, and it was difficult to make out her increasingly urgent encouragements; looking up, he could see her head rolling back through the valley of her incredible, mature tits as she mauled one with her left hand. She ground her pubic mound hard against his face, eagerly humping his mouth as it worked against her, his fingers digging into the firm, smooth flesh of her buttocks.




Mother Sweet



Suddenly, Vivien unlocked her ankles and shoved him away with one delicate foot. Shocked, he fell back on his ass, panting like a winded animal.

"Tell me," she said, standing up and hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. "Tell me how much you love the taste of my cunt."

"You're fucking delicious," Mike said. "If I could eat only one thing, it would be your pussy."

"Keep talking like that and you'll get your fill," Vivien said, yanking hard on the fabric. It tore away from her body easily and she threw the sodden scrap of seafoam-green aside. Her vulva were shaved bare, and glowed pink from his exertions as the inner lips of her vagina dripped with the same mixture that shone on Mike's chin. "Would you like to taste it again?" She asked, spreading those lips wide with her fingers. The greedy pink orifice of her vagina pulsed with need, dripping with her secretions.

"Yesssss," he hissed.

"Which would you rather kiss? Your wife or my cunt?"

He licked his mouth, savoring the sweetness of her pussy on his lips. "Your cunt," Mike croaked.

"She's right downstairs, you know." Vivien laughed. "My daughter is right downstairs - maybe even right outside the door - and you say you'd rather kiss my cunt than her lips?" He groaned as the wrongness washed through him.

"God help me, but yes!" He said through gritted teeth. "Even if she was right here in the fucking room."

A shiver ran through Vivien's body again. "Once you started, you wouldn't even stop if she walked right in through that door, would you?" He surged forward on his knees and she planted one foot on his shoulder, stopping him cold. "Would you?"

"No fuck no I wouldn't." Mike growled as he pushed against her bare foot. "Just let me taste it again Vivien, please!"

"Is that what I told you to call me?" She said, flexing her foot against his shoulder. He growled again, guttural and deep from the bottom of what remained of his will.

"Please," he said again. "...mommy Vivien, please let me taste your cunt."

"Good boy!" Kendra's mother gasped, reaching between her legs to slide her fingers between her sopping wet pussy lips for a moment. Then she dangled them in front of his face. "Get your treat." Eagerly, he slurped her fingers into his mouth, hungrily sucking them clean. As he sucked on her fingers, she slowly drew her hand up, forcing Mike to get back up on his feet again. Her other hand snaked down to his pants, fingers nimbly undoing his belt, easing open the button, and sliding the zipper down.

Vivien withdrew her fingers from his mouth, and stepped in to kiss him, hard. Her tongue eagerly pushed through his pussy-slick lips as her hand stole into his boxers, drawing out his turgid cock.

"I am delicious, aren't I?" She said, rhetorically, as her fist slid up the length of his meaty prick.

"My daughter certainly has an eye for good cock," Vivien crowed. "I knew, as soon as I laid eyes on you, that you were well-equipped. I almost feel bad for her." Her thumb flicked across his weeping pisshole as precum pulsed out. "Almost. After all, it's not *my* fault she can't keep a man, is it?" Mike's knees trembled as she squeezed the angry purple plum of his cockhead.

"N-no," he gasped. She screwed her fist around the flare of his knob.

"And I certainly can't help it that I'm simply hotter than my daughter in every possible way, can I?"

"Gnnn." Mike's cock throbbed in her delicate fist as she pumped him. "No."

"I mean if nature saw fit to endow me with these glorious tits," she pulled one of his hands to her soft, smooth globe. "Or these legs, so much longer than hers; this ass, so fucking round and firm," Vivien dragged his hand around to squeeze one of her asscheeks, "my mouth, so kissable and sweet, my pussy so delectable and *tight*." She squeezed him hard. Mike's knees almost gave out. "Then that's just nature's way of demonstrating my innate superiority. Survival of the fittest, after all." She pressed her body tightly against his, sandwiching his thick shaft between them. "And I am the fittest, aren't I?"

"God yes," he said in a faraway voice, not even thinking about the words dropping from his lips.

"God yes or GodDESS," Vivian asked with a laugh, furiously flicking her thumb across the precummy slick head of his cock. Mike just made an incoherent noise at the back of his throat. "I guess it's not really fair to ask you to think when you're like this," she purred. "Do you want me to fuck you, Michael?"

"Yessss," he slurred.

"Yes what?"

"Yes please, Viv- mommy Vivien."

"What a good boy," she said, giving him a hard squeeze. "Good boys get treats." Letting go of his cock, Mike's mother put both hands on his shoulders, and jumped, locking both of her legs around his waist and pressing his rampant cock up against the dripping hot slash of her pussy. Mike's hands dropped to her ass, grabbing it and digging his fingers deep into her flesh.

"Are you sure you want this, Michael?" Vivien writhed against him, slathering the shaft of his cock with her slick wetness. "Once you've been fucked by a perfect mature pussy like mine, once your cock enters your wife's mother's cunt, there's no going back. There's no pussy for you except mine. You'll *never* fuck Kendra again, do you understand?"

"Yes!" He said, desperately trying to hunch his cock up inside of her. "Just please fuck me!"

"Fuck me..." Vivien ground her hips in a circle, rubbing his aching cockhead against their joined bellies.

"Fuck me mommy Vivien!"

With a triumphant cackle, she raised her hips and impaled his cock with one fell swoop. Mike gasped and struggled not to cum immediately as the velvety wet glove of her pussy slid home over his shaft, gobbling it up ravenously; his hips needed to buck, to fuck up into her, but it was impossible to get leverage as long as they were freestanding in the room. She began to slowly pump the sucking wet mouth that was her cunt up and down.

"Mmmmm," she cooed. "It makes me so happy to hear you say that, Michael darling. I'm going to be such a good mommy to you, honey. Your mother did a fine job raising you so far, but your new mommy is going to teach you. So. MUCH!" With each word she pumped him harder, the tight seal of her pussy making obscenely wet noises with every stroke as her juices and his saliva dripped onto his feet.

"I haven't decided yet," Vivien ground the head of his cock against the rear wall of her cunt with a swirl of her hips. "If I'm going to let you stay married to Kendra. I kind of like the idea of fucking you here, in her home, for *years* while she's not allowed to access this deliciously fat cock. But," she began grinding in the opposite direction, "I've always liked the idea of a live-in fuckboy of my very own. A stud I can mold to my liking, a blank slate innocent to corrupt and enslave with my pussy. What do you think, honey?" The walls of her pussy fluttered around his shaft. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head. "Do you want to be mommy's fuckboy or," she began grinding in the original direction, "do you want me to fuck you right under Kendra's nose for as long as we can manage?"

Mike didn't have an answer. He just knew he needed to be inside Vivien's pussy for as long as he could manage; he needed it like he needed water, or air. He knew he'd never be able to live without access to her cunt, no matter what the cost, no matter what it did to his marriage. Whatever love he had for Kendra - and somewhere deep down he did still love her - it paled in comparison to the pleasure her mother's pussy was giving him right now. Vivien began pumping her hips faster on his cock, slamming her ass downwards to meet his balls, pulling a long guttural moan out of him.

"Oh I forgot, your opinion doesn't matter," she said, gleefully. "You'll do whatever I tell you, won't you, Michael?"

"Yessss," he hissed, struggling to maintain some semblance of control. "Yes mommy!"

"Of course you will, honey." She was rabbitfucking his cock as hard as she could. "The nastier, the better. And I can get *so* nasty," she whispered in his ear, fingers digging deep weals in the skin of his back. "For instance, if I told you mommy planned to introduce you to her big pink strapon, you'd only get harder, wouldn't you?"

"Nnngh," he grunted. "YES."

"And I told you I was going to fuck you in front of Kendra, you'd only want it *more*, wouldn't you?"

"Yes!" Mike shouted. "Fuck me in front of my wife!"

"Because you're addicted to my pussy now, aren't you Michael? Addicted to mommy's sweet," she pumped once, hard "sucking," and again, "CUNT."

"Yes yes yes!" He declared, pulling as hard as he could on her ass. "I fucking need your pussy! I fucking need your cunt! Make me do whatever you want just please don't take your pussy away, mommy Vivien!" His mother's sculpted, ivory body went rigid as he proclaimed his allegiance to her, and there was a sudden gush of juices as her cunt clamped down hard on his cock.

"Good! Boy!" Her body began to convulse. "Cum for me you fucker! Cum for your mommy's supreme fucking pussy!"

"YES!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as the cream began to rocket from his swollen sac. "I fucking love your cunt!" Thick gouts of cum began pouring forth from her slick hole as Mike came hard into Vivien's clutching grasping pussy. Her vaginal cavity rippled again with each thick plume that splashed against the walls of her cunt before pouring out onto the carpet. As his orgasm waned, Mike felt the strength beginning to drain from his limbs, leaving them trembling and weak.

Without any further warning, they tumbled to the floor in a sweaty pile of limbs.

Vivien giggled in his ear. "Do you think Kendra heard that?"

"I fucking hope so," Mike said, grinning.

"That's my good boy," she said, reaching down to grab his cock. It stirred in her hand. "Let's make those hopes a reality." Vivien swung her leg over his body and pulled herself atop him. "I hope you didn't have anything else to do tonight." Her tits, massive and dripping with their mingled sweat, swung in his face.

"Nope." He reached up and grabbed for one. She slapped his hand away.

"Excuse me?" She said, face darkening.

"I mean, no, mommy Vivien."

"Good boy," his mother said, grinding down on him. "I see I've still got some work to do to. You're in for a long night, young man."

Downstairs, Kendra suckled at the teat of prime-time programming.

* * *

The "visit" dragged on. If Kendra noticed that Mike and Vivien were spending time together, she didn't say anything, but she did become more and more distant, less interested in talking to her husband or her mother, more engrossed with the television. Less engaged with reality, less aware of the knowing looks going on around her, the shared touches, giggles emanating from the next room, mysterious wet spots appearing on her side of the bed.

It wasn't until Vivien's luggage appeared in the master bedroom that she was forced to confront reality.

"Kendra that bed is simply *insufficient* for my needs," Vivien told her, resplendent and glowing in an abbreviated green dressing gown. "It's only temporary, darling."

"Please don't do this, mother. Please just leave us in peace." Tears welled up in Kendra's eyes as she skimmed closer and closer to the truth.

"Oh honey, it's just temporary until I can go back to the city." Vivien hooked her arm in her daughter's, and gently frogmarched her to the suite, which was rank with the smell of sweat and sex. "I promise. It's just for a little while."

She shut the door. Outside, Mike and Vivien were laughing at something. As their laughs turned to silence, she slowly climbed up on the bed, not seeing the obvious stains on the covers or bedsheets.

"It's just a dream," she muttered to herself, staring at the ceiling. "It can't be happening. This isn't happening. Eventually you'll wake up and it'll all be over and you'll be happy with Mike again." Elsewhere in the house a rhythmic bumping could be heard.

"Eventually."

FIN